#and even when she asked me to get a closed box of letters i managed to drop this shit up 😭

[emmafallsinlove]

every now and then i want to make friendship bracelets but i’m the most clumsy person i know and everytime i tried to make bracelets somehow i spilled all of the beads on the floor or opened the box in the opposite side. nonetheless instead of making bracelets i had to sit and pick shit up.

[theres-a-body-here]

Love Letter Aftermath

First part

The realization of receiving a love admission sinks in for the killers

Characters: Oni, Trapper, Deathslinger, Mastermind, Cannibal, Ghostface Warnings: Some spice Male!reader

The Oni - Kazan Yamaoka

He's angry

Angry at you for giving him that damn letter

And angry at himself for keeping it

He keeps it on his shrine

Even while he tries to distract himself with training between trials, your letter is all that's on his mind

At least once a day, for a couple of minutes, he stares at the letter while working up the courage to crumple it and dispose of it

He never can

When Rin found the letter, his heat sunk

She thought it was cute, but rolled her eyes at how Kazan was acting

The days following the letter, you've noticed in trials with Oni, he never downs you with his Kanabo anymore, only his Katana

Even during chases, when he's activated his blood fury right behind you, he stampedes off somewhere to down anyone else

And when he carries you to hooks, you've noticed how gently he holds you

But he never stays after hooking you and seems to avoid your gaze

Strangely, Rin has been giving you some leeway during trials as well

The Trapper - Evan MacMillan

When he got back to his realm after the trial, he immediately went to work on making a box for the letter

Yeah, a whole keepsake box for a single letter

He places it next to the box where he keeps his old drawings

Whenever he sees you in trials, he still gets those butterflies

If you step in one of his traps, he's immediately rushing to where he heard you scream

If he sees any other survivors trying to free you, he swats at them

Evan gently pulls at the jaw of the trap and pulls it apart, letting you retract your injured foot

He's trying his hardest not to ogle your legs

"Sorry," he mutters gruffly, his hands holding your leg softly while he inspects the damage

He picked up some gauze that one of the others dropped and begins to bandage your wound

He can feel your gaze burning holes into his mask as he works

He's the one to break the silence

"I've killed you... and your friends, over and over."

There's a long pause on your end before you respond

"I know"

You two leave it at that

The Deathslinger - Caleb Quinn

Caleb keeps the letter under the bar counter in his realm

Whenever he returns from an exhausting or lost trial, he looks at it

A small part of him still thinks you're messing with him

He's way too nervous and skittish around you now to do anything, so you're gonna have to initiate everything

In trials, you do your best to spend time with him

Especially when you insist that he treats you no different

When he carries you to hook, you take the moment to touch him

You turn your head to plant a kiss on the back of his neck

Caleb visibly shivers and lets out a groan

"Yer tryin' ta kill me, ain'tcha?"

"Is it working?"

Despite you asking otherwise, he tends to leave you alone when he can in trials, opting to hide the others

If you confront him about it, he'll deny it

The Mastermind - Albert Wesker

He keeps your letter in the inner pocket of his jacket

You definitely have his full attention now

Don't expect any special treatment, because he's not gonna give it

In fact, he seems to actively seek you out first if he knows you're in his trial

Wesker gets angry when you can't loop him for more than a couple of minutes

"Are you even trying? Pathetic"

While carrying you to a hook, he's lecturing you all the way

"You didn't run it tight enough. You were too greedy with the pallet. You didn't check your blind spots."

He'll get even more irritated if you start to tear up

Can't you see he's trying to help you?

Wesker refuses to have someone so vulnerable as an admirer

So you better get to it

If you do manage to improve and become better in trials, his attitude changes

It goes from scoldings to rewards

He takes off his gloves to hold your chin and pull you close

You feel his lips ghost over your cheek and shiver when he tightens his grip on you

He stares at your face, drinking up your reactions

And then he lets you go, watching as your face twists from dazed to confused

"What? Were you expecting a kiss?"

You're gonna have to do a lot more if you wanna get a smooch from him

The Cannibal - Bubba Sawyer

He tapped your letter to the side of his chainsaw

He gets all giddy when he glances at it during his sweeps, especially if he manages to down a survivor

It's his good luck charm

If he spots you in a trial, he'll literally drop everything to rush over and give you hug

Bubba would honestly hug you all trial if you let him

He's definitely become a bit more protective over you, maybe even prone to jealousy

He doesn't even let anyone work on gens with you, revving his chainsaw if anyone gets too close

Once everyone gets the message and leaves you two be, he'll sit behind you as you work and hug you

Expect lots of nuzzles

Bubba whines when the gen is completed and you have to stand up to find a new one

He follows you like a puppy until you find the next one and the process begins anew

The Ghostface - Danny Johnson

Danny doesn't really have anywhere he can store the letter safely

So he does the logical thing and memorizes it's contents, word for word

He doesn't care what happens to the paper

Sometimes during trials, he'll tease you by reciting it during chases

Even adding things you're certain you never added

"And I promise to always let you smash whenever and wherever you want," he says, mimicking your voice as you dangle from the hook

"I NEVER WROTE THAT!!"

Being her favorite, The Entity doesn't care if Danny spares you every trial

But he won't

Because he's a meanie

"No hard feelings, right boo?" He coos as he plunges his blade into your back

If you're sore about it, he's more than happy to make it up to you

He'll run his cold leather-gloved hands under your shirt, pressing you against a wall as you try to stay angry

"Come on, don't be like that," he mutters into your ear, squishing your sides

If you fold now, he'll tease you for being whipped

But if you stay strong, he'll pull out the big guns

He buries his masked face into your neck, slowly grinding his hips against yours

"You feel that, baby? You feel how sorry I am?" He growls, pressing his hard-on against you

[thecoolnauta]

GENSHIN WITH A TEEN!CREATOR WHO IS LIKE LUZ NOCEDA

So yeah, just some brainrot I though while (crying) doing homework

TW: gn reader, teenager reader (ALL IS PLATONIC), some mentions of bullying but not that many, maybe sm angst and a lot of spoilers abut the archons missions

ALSO VERY BAD ENGLISH, IT'S NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE PLEASE DON'T MIND IT (also I have this feeling that this is gonna be long so maybe it would be part two)

So yeah, you are just some neurodivergent kid, trying to vibe with your especial interest but classmates are being mean like they got pay for it and not very friendly stuff

your dearest tutor (I didn't know If put mother or anything else) decided without telling you first to put you on a weird camp were IN TEXTUAL WORDS: "they will make you think inside the box"

And yeah you weren't doing that shit

Luckly you! some weird... random- CREATURE stole your (insert product of your special interest here) and ran away to a very old wood house you never notice before.

... SCREW THAT YOU ARE GETTING BACK THAT THING

You enter no the house without actually looking back, not minding at all the fact after you cross the old door you ended up in a wild life forest.

When you tried to get back to your city you found out that the door was gone, all the freaking house was gone.

"Don't panic, don't panic, QUENOCUNDAELPANICO, maybe the house had some uhhh… halogenous spores that are making me hallucinate hehe" you said before shouting your lungs out when you bite your arm and hurt... and bleed gold.

You weren't hallucinating, you were in a real place and your blood looked like liquid stars..

"carajo"

Trying to find someone to help you probably run all over the forest you went trap, finding that the animals really liked you and the flowers pratically flourished faster when you were around.

"Heh, this place is kinda nice, maybe I could stay a little longer"

It was night you rested your head over a wild boar who very cheerfully offered to be your pillow, some bunnies cuddle you and a little mockingbird started to sing for you to sleep.

You actually can get used to this, felling so warm, so loved by an unkown earth who seems to let you know all it's secrets...

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEIR PRESENCE IS GONE?!"

"IT'S GONE"

All Teyvat (except for you) heard the cries of the Traveler and their rare pixie

After finding out the secrets of the Hydro archon of Fontaine, they decided to get a little walk before doing missions all over again.

BUT when Aether was resting their head and body on a tree, he felt the divine power and the warm scaping of his body like an armour being destroyed after a very rough battle.

You were gone, you abandoned him.

He almost fall into the sea, if It wasn't for Paimon that grab thim of the braid with all her little strength.

After that he just started to panic and cry all loud and to attack everyting that moves a bit to close to him.

(Paimon had to kick him into his face to stop him but shhhhh)

When he managed to splain himself, It was the turn of Paimon to get panic, only after Ather giving her a berry he had on his pocket she calmed down.

"...So what we do now, Do we tell the others?" the Traveler asked

"Paimon doesn't know, maybe we could them the Archons to-"

"Paimon, look at my eyes and repeat that again"

"Maybe we could..." she stayed quite a long time "yeah maybe they won't fully help us"

"What If we tell Albedo? He knows a lot of things about the Creator!"

"You're right! But we still have some missions to do here..."

"We do them as soon we can, also, we can wrote a letter to him so he would have time to investigate this more" he decided.

"Paimon needs to know now, let's do the request now!"

The flying girl disapeard and the yound boy stayed with a frown.

He could fell Teyvat, It felt different than before, even before he got trapped by the unkown godness.

It feel completed.

Aether just hope that nothing bad happends to all the persons he had the chance to meet. He hoped nothing bad happend to you.

I WOULD DEFINETLY NEED MORE FOR FINISH THIS

[hotpinkrathian]

Ahhhh so I have to admit I have been working on something, it's a very big project for me.

It's 30 000 words long as of now, and I estimate to be about 1/2 - 2/3 of the way through the story. I'm super excited about it, however I don't want to get to a point where I'm almost done and don't finish, which is why I am writing it so much.

I want everyone in the kyalin Fandom to be right there with me when it's ready. So I'm going to do my best to finish it before I start posting.

How would I describe it???

A Kyalin mystery slowburn

Here's a snippet from Chapter 3 (spoilers ahead)

“Here,” Tenzin said, passing Lin a notice.

“So secretive,” Kya joked, pretending to lean over.

“It's not that secret,” Tenzin said, “two more came forward getting letters, bringing the total to-”

“Forty-nine.” Lin finished. The names added to the list weren't familiar to her. An Earth Republic mayor, and a fire nation general. “Something tells me there's one more out there,” Lin said.

“You think? An even 50?”

“Stopping at forty-nine would be good thinking on their end,” Kya said, “I mean, it would have everyone worried over the 50th letter, which doesn't exist.” She elaborated.

Lin raised an eyebrow, shrugging it off.

“What are the odds they get out anyway?” Kya asked.

“You mean the dirt?” Lin clarified.

“Yeah. Are the threats… real? Do you think they actually know something, or is it… broad enough to make yo- people think they did something.”

“Well we've bounced around that idea for a while,” Lin said, “but I think the general consensus was that… they were a little too close for comfort.” She looked to Tenzin, whose harrowing eyes reflected the anxieties of her own.

Her own letter bounced around in the back of brain, waiting to be unpacked. She had divulged so much into dealing with the case, and worrying about Suyin, she hadn't put much thought into how she would deal with the information revealed by her letter.

What she would do.

What she would say.

She didn't inherently think she had anything to be ashamed of, but there were plenty others who wouldn't see it that way.

It would be career ending, perhaps enough to chase her out of town in search of a fresh start.

If Suyin was still alive, Zaofu could make for a nice retirement place.

“Excuse me for a moment,” she said, getting up. She made for the bathroom down the hall, but instead opened the window at the end of the hall.

Delicately, and with precision, even in her wine-induced stupor, she climbed outside, hanging onto the ledge.

She'd done it a thousand times in her teen years. Scaling the air temple had been a right of passage, and a necessity, when she was with Tenzin.

It was second nature to her as she hauled herself to the upper floor.

Luckily, the window wasn't locked and she got back inside with ease.

She walked quietly down the hall, praying she didn't wake the kids. It was as she remembered. Almost nothing had changed, and a strange wave of deja vu overcame her.

It ended when she entered the left door, and not the right.

Kya's room was one she hadn't been in much, especially as she got older. It looked as she had envisioned. It was tasteful and colorful. Lin envied her ability to pick out pictures and tapestries of varied colors, still managing to make them go together.

First she checked the nightstand, which had a lot of interesting things, but nothing she was looking for.

She checked the duffle bag on the chair, nothing but clothes and towels.

She sighed, looking around.

She noticed the bed was lifted slightly off the floor. Tenzin used to keep… stuff under his bed.

Perhaps these airhead all thought alike.

She got on her knees before laying herself gently onto her stomach.

She outstretched an arm under the bed, feeling around until her palm landed on a box.

She pulled it out, and allowed herself to stand up before setting it on the bed and opening it.

The unmistakable waxy green seal.

The inky handwriting on the back with a clear name designation.

The clear indication that it had been open and removed multiple times.

She held it in her hand, her fingers frozen.

Fifty

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to another : blanched?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear steamed scrambled eggs,

I'm so sorry it took a while to get back to you. I landed and immediately started working full-time again. Ugh, the modeling life does not let you down with bookings. My manager told me something about how I'd be busier from now on since I got to walk in Paris this year. My resume is popping... did I use that right. I can't keep up with all this young people lingo and I'm not even old.

I doubt your face card is that bad if what you brought up in our early letters is true. If nearly all of your friends wanted you to get into modeling, then surely there's a reason. It's not like your friends sound like typical models either, so I can only assume that they're actually higher-ranking models or whatever.

Oh. Yes, after this walk, it seems Ada's officially reached supermodel status. She's about to get so much busier... I miss when she had time to attend her local fan events. Well, maybe I'll be like that one day? Who knows. I'm not even big enough for fan events yet.

I'm also starting to have suspicions of who you are. So, if you end up with a stalker... sorry (for reasons this is a joke) but I do have suspicions. I bumped into that roommate of yours while in France. I could put two and two together, but I'd much rather just bump into you again. Surely you won't dodge me when I ask for your number again?

Which brings me to my next point. I did bring you to Paris with me. I had nearly all of our letters boxed up in my suitcase, and it drove my manager mad. My agent didn't care as much since he was seeing his girlfriend, but my manager was going through it. "You don't need a box that big." he said. Skill issue. That's why he's still single (I am too). Oh, oops. My internet persona seems to be seeping into the way I write to you now. Shame.

Which brings me back to the point. No gift this time? Seems I need to step up my game with you a bit. Mm... should get some help from a friend. Ah, right. Favorite flowers?

See you soon (threat) Christmas

It's not hard to put two and two together. If Ada had pointed out the letter with that kind of look in her eye, then there was definitely something she knew. Considering everything about her, it's not hard to deduce that he's been writing to you. You. Literally. From day one, the universe sent you right to him and he didn't even put two and two together until Ada had made it somewhat obvious. It's a little silly of him considering that he did graduate top of his class in the police academy with perfect grades for everything, but it's fine. He's just rusty, or something.

Well, he can't ask her for your address since you probably live with her, but he can most definitely ask someone else who happens to know the two of you rather well.

"Sancho!" Luis laughs. "Fancy seeing you here, eh?"

"Yeah." He hums, closing his eyes as the makeup artist touches him up. "I had a favor to ask of you, Luis."

"Oh, of me?"

"I'd like to send flowers to the model I walked with last time. Surely you can help me out?"

"By doxing them? I don't think so, sancho." Luis shakes his head. "Told 'em you had a crush on them, but they told me there was no way back then. Seems like I was right, hm?"

"Yes."

"Aye... shame. I can't help much. But, I can extend an invite to a certain something." He sends an image to Leon's phone.

"It's like... August right now."

Luis shrugs. "Invites went out a week ago. You'll be our guest of honor. I'll send you further details as we get closer. You can meet them there, sancho."

Leon doesn't have a particularly good feeling about it, but anything to scare you shitless, he assumes.

"Why are you so willing to help?"

"You're a nice man." Luis waves. "You owe me, though."

"Didn't realize we were keeping count."

prev letter : masterlist : next letter

[kumabeom]

this love - kang taehyun

letter 13 ; pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks

synopsis: what happens when soccer player!kang taehyun, who isn’t focused on school but is smart enough to pass, sees yn walk in the hallways nearly everyday after homecoming. taehyun’s new hallway crush begins to grow into something bigger, but what happens when he has to make a choice between yn or continuing to fail school ? will taehyun be able to focus on sports, classes, and trying to win yn over ?

“wait for me here, i’ll just ask ms.kim about this and then i’ll be right back.” beomgyu said, grabbing a box from your hands and entering the said classroom. you stood there patiently, a few seconds passing before you felt a small tap on your shoulder, turning your head over to see a girl, hair nicely styled but you could tell that it was just naturally like that. a subtle blush settling just on her cheeks, a bit of the same product on her nose. eyelashes perfectly curled, she looked right at you.

“you’re yn, right ?” she questioned, causing you to furrow your eyebrows, confusion running through you as you wondered how she knew you’re name. “you’re taehyun’s new partner, no ?”

taehyun was quite a popular person, not only was he athletic but now he was making rounds for how well he was managing his life. he was already known for his ability and amazing skill in soccer. he was also known for the way he would go around dating just about anyone before breaking their hearts and moving onto his next target.

“yeah.. you are ?”

“i’m nari. i kind of needed help on my way around, been here for years and i still don’t completely know my way around.” she let out a breathy laugh at the end of her sentence. she pointed at the lanyard around your neck which indicated that you were a school helper.

“oh i can help, where do you need to go ?”

“can you help me get to this classroom, my teacher needs something from that teacher.” she replied, pointing at a few numbers that were on a sticky note. you nodded your head agreeing to take her with you. sending a message to beomgyu to let him know that you were going to be elsewhere instead of waiting for him.

“just follow me..” you kept an eye on nari, ensuring he that she was following right behind you as you guided her towards her destination. she kept herself close to you, looking around the area and recognizing the way towards the place that you were taking her.

“so.. how has taehyun been treating you ?” nari asks, a gentle smile softly resting on her face as she listened to your reply.

“it’s been pretty surreal.. are you two friends ?” you couldn’t help but feel a bit curious due to the amount of mentions of taehyun from nari.

“not really, i’m his ex..”

“oh..”

“the last serious ex he had, but don’t worry.. i’m not here to make things hard or uncomfortable for you. plus taehyun made it quite clear that he was done seeing me. i kind of don’t plan on seeing or even confronting him either, a lot of drama came with dating him and i really don’t.. i don’t want to relive that.” nari explained, making you feel less tense as you were previously a bit worried on what nari would say to you about taehyun. you did have a few encounters with taehyun’s less serious exs which was why beomgyu wanted to make sure that you were by his side most of the time.

“if you don’t mind.. what happened ?” you look back at her as she caught up to your pace, beginning to walk side by side.

“i’m surprised you don’t already know, you’re friends with sunghoon, no ?” she took a small look at you, receiving a nod in reply. “well sunghoon and heeseung used to be the bestest of friends. heeseung was on the soccer team, and between taehyun, heeseung, and i.. we had a love corner-“

“a love corner.” you tilted your head at nari, you hadn’t really ever heard that term before which of course made you wonder what nari was trying to say.

“y’know a love corner, kinda like a love triangle except one person likes another person and someone likes the one person. mm.. kinda like say you and taehyun like each other.. well you do like each other BUT that’s not the point. you and taehyun like each other, right. but say someone likes taehyun but obviously he has eyes for you and you have eyes for taehyun. a love triangle is more like if you liked taehyun but taehyun liked someone else, but that someone else liked you.. does that make sense ?”

“oh yeah !! in a love corner, two people actually have reciprocating feelings..”

“that’s right !” she grinned, “so heeseung liked me, i liked taehyun and taehyun liked me back. well everything was fine, i didn’t even know that heeseung liked me until one night when taehyun was in the middle of his game, heeseung suddenly made me question taehyun’s feelings for me so when i asked taehyun how he truly felt about me.. he just brushed me off, and then heeseung talked about how much better he could treat me. he told me that taehyun made a mistake when he asked me out. i ended up rejecting heeseung because it felt like he made me throw my relationship away all because he wanted to prove that he was better than taehyun. but ! i have a sinking suspicion that taehyun truly does love you, i don’t know you can kinda just tell by his eyes when he looks at you.”

nari stood right next to you as you listened intently to each of her words. pure shock going through you as you realized why heeseung was contacting you all of a sudden. it wasn’t necessarily because he liked you but because he wanted revenge on taehyun for ending up with nari and for so easily brushing nari off. you weren’t too sure why he was so upset about the fact that taehyun brushed off nari if it only made heeseung look the way he said he was.. “better” than taehyun. you gave nari a nervous smile, fiddling around with your fingers.

“oh- this should be where you needed to go.” you point at the door in front of the two of you, opening the door for nari and seeing a clean art room, a few spills of paint here and there, but it was polished for the main part.

“thank you, i can take it from here.. i have a few things to do. but thank you so much for your help.” she grins widely, entering the art room and placing on an apron. which made you question if she truly knew where she was going the entire time as she seemed to have an entire routine. had she lied to you, even if she did, it seemed quite harmless.. not anything for you to worry about. you waved at her, before walking away, checking your phone to see that beomgyu had yet to respond, signifying that he was still in the same area. as you made a turn, you heard your name being called out. looking back, you notice as taehyun ran towards you, happy little giggles leaving his lips.

“ynie !!” he exclaimed as you shushed him, by placing a finger to his lips. your eyes scanned the area before taking him into the stairway where you were bound to be safe from being caught.

“tyun.. what’s up ?” you questioned, taehyun noticed you acting a bit different than when the two of you typically meet up in the middle of a class which he usually skips a bit just for you. first of all, you have yet to give him a hug, not only that, but he hasn’t even received a single kind of kiss from you. and you never ask him ‘what’s up’ the both of you typically just end up spontaneously talking about your days so far. he opens his arms wide open for you, as you hesitantly accept the warm embrace that he was offering.

“is something up ? you never forget to give me my hugs or kisses ?” he whispers into your ear, patting your back as if showing you a signal of support and love. you weren’t mad at taehyun, he didn’t have to tell you about his ex until he felt comfortable and that’s only if he felt like he had to tell you. although, right now, he felt like that part of life was something that he wanted to dig deep away from himself. he, himself, didn’t really want to even think about that drama-filled period of time that he lived through. however, you couldn’t help but feel worried, would heeseung really be so stuck on the past that he would end up harming your own relationship with taehyun. if nari had moved on from the situation which harmed her mentally more than heeseung, then surely he should be able to move on.

“nope, i was just.. you caught me off guard today, i was just in my own world.” you reply, pulling away from taehyun and pressing a kiss to his cheek. nerves calming down as you took in his warmth. taehyun could only smile, to be honest, he had seen you with nari. you hadn’t seemed that down with her so he couldn’t help but feel a bit insecure about the situation. he knew that nari truly didn’t mean any harm, he was dating her for a good amount of time to get to know the kind of person she was. he couldn’t say that he trusted her with his life but he trusted nari a fair amount.

“oh, yn !” he exclaimed, wrapping his hands around yours. bringing them up to his side and holding them close. “i wanted to ask you something.”

“yeah, what is it ?” you questioned, playing with taehyun’s hands as you smiled at him. your warm personality returning, knowing that you and taehyun had nothing to worry about, you trusted him.. he trusted you, was there anything to truly even question if the two of you trusted each other so well.

“do you think that maybe.. mm can you come to senior night as my plus one ?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, attempting to hide his shy feelings with a small smile. although, you could easily read behind his smile, feeling his rather clammy hands against yours.

“of course ! i just can’t believe you’re giving me the honor.” you grinned, pulling the boy into your arms. just the other day you were there to support the boy in his first game of the season and now he was approaching his last game of the season. in fact, it was going to be his last game as a student, and it was going to determine whether his team became champions or ranked in second place. taehyun’s team had never truly won, they always made it to the finals, but were often defeated and ended up in second place. so taehyun felt like this was his last chance to prove that him and his team were much better than what they seemed to be. he was certain that he could lead his team into victory this year.

you’ve gone to all of taehyun’s games this season, and he knew that you were bound to support him to his final game. but he was still surprised that you agreed, he felt proud. taehyun felt like he was walking on cloud nine, he just never felt like he had been so supported by someone and now here he was.

“thank you.” he smiled, bringing his lips towards yours. pressing a sweet kiss against your lips, tiny bits of a smile sneaking into the candy-like kiss. that was until the two of you heard the door open, pulling away and waving at each other before rushing out the stairway through different exits. as you walked away, you passed a teacher, glad that you left before the two of you got caught. you returned to a copy room, realizing that you needed to help someone by making a few copies for them before returning back to beomgyu, who immediately noticed your blushy appearance when you returned to him. a laugh cracking through his mouth as he couldn’t help but tease you.

©️kumabeom

this love taglist : @run2seob @soobadooba @soobnuuy @pockychuwu @crazynyctophilia @rencarnationofangel @esther-kpopstan @mrsyawnzzn @matcha-binz @michinri @hanstarrs @ariam-96 @pinkheadflowers @kittyhyuka @run4gyu @txnwvc

an : GUESS WHO IS BACK IN STATS CLASS 😃😃😃😃 get ready for my mental breakdowns

[fireflowersandblood]

Letters From Home - Preview

i promised a preview so. here it is. or maybe. a first chapter. maybe. i'm not promising anything.

Pairing: Tom Bennett x f!reader

WC: 800-ish words

TWs/Warnings: strong language, adult themes

Summary: Knitting for Victory has never been bigger and Tom gets a nice, cozy package from home.

“Hey, look at this, lads!”

Tom’s head snaps up. Immediately, his lips curl into a smirk. One of the men has jumped up on a box of supplies, holding a paper in his left hand. With his right, he’s trying to ward off the poor sod who has just lost his picture. Tom can’t see what it is with all the waving about, but he’s almost entirely sure it’s a lady, maybe even a lady with very little clothing. Little else gets the men this worked up.

“Bennett, for you.”

Before he can react, a paper wrapped package has been placed in his lap. It looks almost like a wrapped Christmas gift, with the string that ties it together, and is no bigger than the Encyclopedias that Lois collected when she was younger. 

“What’s this?” Tom glances down at the package and frowns at the handwriting. It’s nothing he recognizes and he can’t think of anyone who would want to send him something. Maybe his dad, but even that seems unlikely. 

“Red Cross”, his superior explains. “Knitted socks and the like. You’re not the only one.”

Tom gives an appreciative hum and glances back down on the box. The handwriting is neat, neater than anything he could manage, and spells out his full name. To his own surprise, he runs his fingers across the letters, before he takes care to open it.

The box is filled to the brim. He finds not one, but two, pairs of navy blue socks. A matching pullover and hat, as well as a small box of hard candies in all sorts of colors. It feels strange to hold something so normal in his hands, and it reminds him of when he was smaller. His mother used to have them, he remembers, in a small tin box by the radio. She’d always give him and Lois one each, and let them pick between the fruit shaped ones.

“You got socks”, someone next to him complains, and the sigh is nothing if not envious. It makes Tom feel just a tad superior, and he immediately kicks his boots off, tears the old socks from his feet, and pulls the new pair on with a self-satisfied grin. 

“I did”, he boasts. It’s all in good fun; now that the first few months have passed, there’s not as much fighting. Everyone has seen battle one too many times to spend any time asking for trouble, even Tom. “And they’re cozy.”

Everyone close enough to have heard laughs, and Tom takes the opportunity to make sure he hasn’t missed anything. He would hate to leave another tin of candies for the rats. 

Tucked away in a corner of the box, he finds a letter. Again, with a handwriting he doesn’t recognize. Not the same as on the wrapper around the box, but something a little smaller and cleaner. He tears the envelope and is met by a sweet, light scent. It takes a moment too long to realize it must be perfume. It reminds him of the one Lois wears, and the thought makes his nose scrunch up. To take his mind off the rather unpleasant thought, he unfolds the letter.

Dear soldier,

When I’m writing this, I have no idea who you are. I might never know who you are. You, however, will know a little something about me when you’ve read this letter.

I’m the person who has made you the socks and the sweater. I hope you’ll find them useful and warm. The rationing has made it difficult to get a hold of yarn and I decided to unwind an old sweater of my father’s. I know he would much rather it be used by you.

I know our Navy must need as much as our Army, but if you have no use for two pairs of socks, perhaps you can give the second pair to a friend. I know the endless walking that the Army does tears the garments rather quickly, but two pairs might have been too much. I couldn’t help myself, when they said that the packages will be delivered to people who rarely, if ever, receive mail. I wanted you to know that there are people who think of you back home. 

The candies are made in London and remind me of my childhood. I hope it brings back pleasant memories for you, as well. 

I don’t know if people actually spray their letters with perfume, but I read it in a book once, and I thought it might lift your spirits. Pass it along and let the boys sniff it like a pair of used knickers, for all I care. 

Write, if it would please you. I would love to hear if the clothes have come to use, and make sure that you’re safe. I will pray for your safe return and a quick end to the war. 

Most love.

Tom flips the letter to find a name and an address.

“Mate, you got paper and a pen?”

[jienem]

His Human

Part 1 Part 2

Y/N kept herself busy for the most part. Her parents own a shop in their hometown, selling different types of dishes, and she sometimes chirps in to help in the kitchen, cleaning, or managing the customers. Epel Felmier her childhood friend, sometimes spends time with her by carving apples. When she had free time, she would often spend it writing letters, though she didn't send them to whomever she had written them to. After weeks of coming into their cabin, she forgot to ask about their address, so now she was in this dilemma of how she could contact them. She asked her mother if she had a contact name for Zigvolt and Vanrouge. But her parents reaction surprises her.

They said the last name she mentioned was pretty much held as a noble in fae society. So much so, even if they would receive the letters, there is a chance it would buried deep into other letters adressed into their family. Lilia Vanrouge on the other hand, both her parents didn't know where he lived. Y/n felt saddened by this revelation and still asked for Zigvolt's addresses. After much consideration, her parents reluctantly gave her their address. As soon as she got them, she made her way to her room and wrote a letter. She soon sent it in the same day, waiting for weeks for a response despite knowing the possibilities of a non-response. Still, she didn't get discouraged and still sent letters, hoping Sebek or Silver would respond. Days turned into weeks, and there was still no letter. And the letters she is writing turn into drafts at her table.

"Y/N dear, would you mind helping me sew the unfinished shawl I made in the living room?" Her grandmama knocked on the door while speaking on the other side.

"Yes, of course," she responds, dropping the quill at the stand before following suit. She passed through the hallway until she noticed the window was opened. It would be chilly in here if this continued. She was about to close it when she noticed the mail boxes were full from the outside.

"Ah, grandmama? Didn't you get the mail earlier?" Y/N called, still staring at the mail box.

"Yes I did hon, why?"

"Nothing grandmama."

Curious, she went outside and pulled the mailbox lid, and many letters soon started to pour out. "What?" bewildered. Y/N picked up the fallen letters one by one, to her amazement. Most of the letters were from Sebek and Silver. She honestly felt excited as she picked it up and dragged it into her bedroom, passing by her grandmother, and yelled that she would come back.

She laid down the letters, categorizing them one by one, even the date they were made. She picked up the letter addressed to her parents, laid it down in their bed chambers, and headed back into her room. She read them one by one, and nostalgia soon took its place. Silver's letter often talks about the animals that have helped him or how drowsiness always seems to consume him, and judging by his handwriting here, he was half asleep when he wrote it. And then he told her about his training and how it went well every single day. At the end of the letter, he put a reminder at the bottom, saying, Don't push yourself too hard. He knew her too well.

Sebek's letter made her laugh or chuckle. She could practically hear his voice boom, ' I have received your letter, human! How forgetful you are- You should learn from Waka-sama-'

Amused, she moves on to the next letters he has sent. He wrote about his library back at Zigvolt's estate, proud of having so many books, and kept rubbing it against her face as she read. He talked about his highness Malleus and how majestic he was. He didn't write a lot, but she was content. What she didn't expect was that Lilia Vanrouge himself wrote a letter addressed to her.

His letter was about Silver and Sebek, who waited for a letter from her. When she didn't in the first week, Sebek threw a fuss. He talks about how maybe she has forgotten them and will soon move on with her life. Lilia must be amused by Sebek because he exposed too much about him in this letter. He mentioned that Sebek exclaims every day.

-I'll grow into a successful Knight!

-I'll grow stronger every day for Waka-sama!

-grr just you wait! I'll grow taller the next time you see me!

Y/N had a fond smile written in her face, she laughed even more when Lilia mentioned how dumbfounded Sebek was when his grandfather visited them in the cabin accompanied by letters from her in a basket hanging into his grandfather's arms. He was stuttering even after receiving it, just staring at his hands wide-eyed. And then closed himself and bombarded his room with papers and ink, writing nonstop.

Y/N laughed when she indeed received a number of letters from Sebek ranting about her carelessness. At the end of the paper, Lilia made a request to her to write for his highness Malleus. Y/N was surprised and nervous. She hadn't met his highness before, so she didn't know what pleased him. But she did try in the end, she wrote as politely as possible but still treated him like a person.

She took her draft papers and began to resume them. She sent them to the mail station the next day while the sun was at its peak. When she returned to her home, she was tackled by both of her parents and grandma, screaming.

"You're going to be a big sister!!! "

"What?!"

At least she got to know why they wanted her to leave the house before.

~~~

Summer turns into fall, and fall turns into winter. With just a few more months, she could return. But judging from her parents, they didn't seem to plan on going back to the valley of thorns. They were too preoccupied with her little brother here at home. Y/N didn't mind and loved her months-old brother, but she didn't have the heart to ask them, thinking she was too selfish. But her parents didn't go unnoticed.

"You wanted to come, didn't you?"

"I... yes," Y/N admitted as she cradled her brother. "But I do not mind being here with all of you, she added.

"Sweetheart, you didn't have to be so modest. Pack your things; we would be leaving in the next few days."

"Really?! Thank you, thank you! "

"Your welcome hon, always."

~~~

She didn't tell any of them about her coming, but she knew they knew. This was around the time she met them almost a year. With excitement bursting into her body, she woke up as early as possible and packed the foods she made before kissing her sleeping brother behind and leaving a note for her parents, careful not to awoke them and head her way.

She walked slowly. reminiscing about her time here a year before. The scene looks the same as if nothing has changed. The scent of the wood and the breeze greet her with glee. She was finally here. Her feet carried her to a familiar lake. She stops and looks at the reflection on the water while she gets lost in her mind. She was afraid.

What if it gets awkward?

What if they didn't really consider her a friend anymore?

What if they thought it was a chore to write her a letter?

But then again, they would mention it.

But what if?

What if?-

"Oya? Well well, miss L/N. Welcome back. "

Y/N moved her figure so fast, and happiness was written all over her face. Worries disappeared in her mind as she turn to malleus. She was back. "Yes Malleus-san!"

~~~

"Se- Sebek?!" Y/N gasped as she took in Sebek's physical form. His hair wasn't down anymore, but he replaced it with a slick back. He was also buffer than the last time she saw him, and he was nearly her height.

"HUMAN?! HOW DARE YOU MAKE AN APPEARANCE WITHOUT TELLING A WORD!" His voice had gotten pretty louder than before, making her flinch before shaking her head. Chuckling softly.

"I did want to make a surprise, don't you see?" She went ahead and was about to ruffle his head as a greeting when he held it before it happened. His hands were much more rough and callous than before, she noted. His familiar glare greeted her, and she braced herself for what was coming.

"HUMAN! DO NOT TOUCH MY HAIR SO CARELESSLY! I TOOK MY TIME AND STYLED FOR MINUTES IF YOU LAY-" Ah she misses this.

~~~

"Silver! It was nice to see you!" y/n greeted when silver appeared a few moments later. His eyes widened in surprise before he greeted her with a simple smile and nod.

"Welcome back, Y/N."

"Hmm? Oh? What a surprised, Welcome back, dear L/N." Lilia's figure appeared behind Silver, floating. Y/N manage to hide her surprised and greeted him.

"Lilia-san! It was nice seeing you again."

Y/N brought out her basket and moved it in front of them. The scent of the food pouring from the inside "Here, I figured you all needed this before your activities for today." 

The two of them were surprised. The scent was too tempting, Lilia was more delighted. "Fufufu, how can we refuse such a treat?"

~

She was bored. She knew the two were focused on their training, while Lilia and Malleus were nowhere to be seen. She watches Sebek launch himself upward to Silver, who dodges in time and plans for a counterattack when his opponent defends himself to clash his sword with his. Y/N's not gonna lie; they improved a lot compared to before. But watching them spar was much more tiring when she worried about them. She was here for days, with a routine of getting up early, making breakfast, greeting her parents and brother before making her way towards here, giving them food, watching them until nighttime, and so on and so forth.

Reading books was making her more sleepy than normal, so she switched to knitting, only to leave it back at her abode and was too tired to go back.

Sighing, she moved away from the scene and began dozing off. She found a tree branch nearby, climbed herself upward, and sat on it. Her eyes fluttered closed despite the loud sparing they were having, and she drifted to sleep.

~

"Hey, wake up." Someone nudges her in the shoulder while she sleeps. Y/N, in her half-asleep state, swat their hand and continued sleeping. She was dreaming. A really good one, she couldn't bring herself to move. Often drifting unconsciously. She could hear the person nudging her as she sighed in annoyance before a pitched boom woke her up.

"HUMAN! WAKE UP FROM YOUR SLEEP!"

"Ah! Okay, okay. Geez, please tone your voice down." Startled, Y/N positioned herself upward and held Sebek's shoulder for support.

"What... What time is it?"

"It was late in the afternoon."

"Ah... I see. Well, I guessed I have time."

"What do you mean you have time?! I do not want to escort you again late at night just like the last time!"

"My apologies, dearest knight, will you join me this late afternoon? This lady in distress wanted to hear about your achievements you've made so far this year. May I?"

"OF COURSE NOT!"

"Oh? Why not? You see, I have been dying to get to know since last year about your achievements. I must admit, your letters read nothing about it, and here I was, waiting." Y/N knew she was blackmailing him at this point, but she was curious. His letter indeed showed nothing about himself, and that was weighing on her mind.

"Hngrhh, FINE. IF YOU WISH WEAK HUMAN! I SHALL INDULGED YOU WITH MY ACHIEVEMENTS FOR WAKA-SAMA WITH MY GREAT TRAINING!"

Sebek joined her by her side while the sun was glistening up in the trees. Sebek was the one initiating conversations, while Y/N made a few comments here and there. Even teasing him from time to time before adding her own story. By then, it was already sunset. Sebek, in the end, escorted Y/N back into her house, much to his dismay. Y/N waved a goodbye before heading back to help her parents until nighttime. She fell into her bed with a smile painted on her face.

~

"Silver?! Did you see Sebek around here?!" Y/N asked, panting and almost stumbling forward in exhaustion.

"No, I didn't; why? Is something the matter?"

"Nothing happened! Thank you and goodbye!" she quickly replied before sprinting away while he looked confused. Before he remembered what today was.

"Ah, it seems I have lost track of time again."

~

"Lilia-san, Malleus-san, greetings! Have you seen Sebek?" Y/N exhaled after running around for so long. Lilia stared at her and knowingly shifted his eyes to Malleus, who also had a knowing look on his face.

"He went that way, he was also waiting for you."

"O-oh! Really? Thank you and have a nice day!" She blushed for being so obvious before sprinting again.

~

"YOU ARE LATE!" Sebek's voice boomed behind her, making her yelp in surprise.

"I'm sorry! I got caught up in something before I went here, she excuses, but Sebek notices her hesitation and is about to accuse her when suddenly his face is merely inches away with a cake.

"Happy 13th birthday, Sebek! To the dearest crocodile~ I wish you a happy birthday."

He couldn't even be mad at her when she was so shy when she held the cake in front of him. His eyes lit up, and an appreciated smile graced his face something that was rare from him.

"Thank you, human."

~

"Huh?! You can paint?! " Sebek repeated.

"Was it so hard to believe?" Y/N asked, tilting her head while furrowing her eyebrows. "Other than reading, I enjoyed making art in my free time."

"Hmm, not bad for a human like yourself."

"You are also a part human you crocodile!"

~

Y/N watches as Sebek glares at the cut page on the book that he was reading. Currently, they were at the spot they met a year ago when he brought out a book about histories and noticed a small cut on the side of the paper.

"Sebek, it was just a small piece. Let's continue, shall we?"

"I refused! I want to know who was the one behind this! Human! Help me find this person!" Oh boy.

~

"You know I am capable of defending myself, Y/N exclaimed happily.

"If you counted running away when a deer was following you, I guessed you are."

~

Y/N sat down with her legs hanging from the end of the lake while she hummed. She was taking a break from Sebek's teaching her self-defense. She had to admit that she was exhausted already, but he was a strict teacher, she had to give him that one, and he kept her on her toes before allowing herself to rest after she had committed it to her memory. Just a few more weeks until she goes home. She was starting to feel sad again.

"The next time we all meet, I hope you all are at your highest..."

Tag List

@growingupnrealizing

@fluffle-bean

@luciel1

[db-gochifan]

GoChi Week 2023 - Day 2: Letters/Flowers

Days: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Title: The Secret Admirer Pairing: Goku/Chi-Chi; minor Bulma/Yamcha Characters: Son Goku, Chi-Chi, Bulma Briefs, Yamcha and Ox King Summary: A letter brings up the romantic side of Goku. Do not copy, repost, use it in any form or claim this work to be your own. Cross-posted on AO3

It was a typical winter day on West City. Valentine’s Day was just around the corner, which meant the halls from Orange Star High School were filled with pink and red hearts and other Valentine’s decorations. Goku sighed deeply when he got closer to his locker and saw the amount of boxes around it.

“I don’t get why you’re so annoyed with that.” Yamcha stated with a confused tone, as he tried to get near his own locker. “Most guys would love to be on your shoes right now.”

“I would gladly trade places, without even questioning it.” He opened his locker and a bunch of letters slipped down to the floor. “How the hell did these girls managed to push all these letters through my locker?!”

“You should never underestimate them. They are capable of anything.”

“Tell me about it.” Goku growled when he accidentally kicked one of the many boxes near his feet. He bent down and grabbed one that has a full-page picture of a brunette attached to it.

“So what are you going to do with all these presents?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.” He glanced at Yamcha and couldn’t help but laugh when he noticed he was nearly drooling at the photo. “Could you be less obvious?”

“What?” The long-haired man blinked a few times and shook his head.

“We were close to getting drowned here.” He teased and then handed the box to his friend. “Do you want to keep this one? Maybe you can get lucky.”

“You don’t want it?”

Just as Goku was about to answer, his eyes fell on a brunette girl walking down the hall. She was so distracted talking to Bulma that she wasn’t paying attention to anything or anyone else. His neck could have easily been broken due to how much it followed her around.

“Earth to Goku.” Yamcha waved his hand in front of his friend’s eyes, to get his attention.

“What?” The spiky haired man shook his head slightly. “Do you really want it? I mean…”

He glanced at the direction the two girls had gone and Yamcha followed him suit.

“Yeah, it’s better not to. Last thing I want is to piss Bulma off. It can often get pretty bad.”

“That’s true.”

****

“I can’t believe you’re not gonna give to him.” Bulma stated with astonishment as she and Chi-Chi headed to their class.

“Believe it or not, I’m not.”

“I don’t get it, you wrote it for nothing?”

“Did you see how many things there were in front of his locker? I don’t stand a chance.”

“Are you kidding me?” She shouted. “I guarantee the other girls don’t come anywhere near you.”

“I feel flattered, but I still don’t believe it.”

“Well, you should. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re distracted.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m still not giving it to him.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want.”

“It is.” Chi-Chi ended the conversation and the two girls headed to their seats in silence. ****

Bulma waited hidden for Chi-Chi to leave the dressing room after changing into her fighting outfit later that day. She sneaked in very slowly and went through her friend’s stuff to get the letter.

“I’m sorry, Chi-Chi. But you’ll thank me later.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Yamcha asked for what seemed to be the millionth time.

“Yes, I ‘m sure.” She replied firmly and with some annoyance. “If you don’t want to help me, that’s fine. But I can’t just stand here and do nothing to help my friend.”

“What happens when she finds out? She’s gonna be really pissed.”

“I can deal with it when the time comes. For now, let’s just put our plan into action.”

“Fine.”

“I knew you’d be part of this plan!” The bluenette exclaimed with excitement and threw her hands around his neck. “Before we know it, Goku and Chi-Chi will be in each other’s arms.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Honey, I always am.” She said, full of confidence.

****

Chi-Chi was feeling rather uncomfortable with so many guys looking at her during martial arts class. She wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Much to her surprise, someone else seemed to have noticed her discomfort too.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“Huh?” She looked at him with her eyebrows raised. “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine. I just don’t like being the center of the attention like this. For some reason, guys look down on women being fighters. Or they think it’s sexy, which is kinda disgusting in my opinion.”

“Hey, leave me out of this.”

“So you don’t think it’s sexy?”

Goku couldn’t help but think her tone almost sounded a little disappointed. “No, that’s not what I meant. Of course I think it’s… anyway, guys may look down on women who fight, but not me. I actually think it’s great.”

“Do you really?” Her face beamed in happiness after hearing what he said.

He couldn’t help but think she looked cute when she smiled like that. He automatically smiled back at her.

“Yes, I really do. Would you feel better if I told these guys to stop looking at you? Or I can just beat them up if you want.”

“It’s not necessary to beat them up.” She put her hands up between them, almost close to his chest. “Just telling them will be enough.”

“Alright.” He was slightly disappointed with her request, but tried his very best to hide it.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

****

Goku and Yamcha made their way to the changing rooms after taking shower when martial arts classes were over for the day. The latter was feeling a little nervous about the letter his friend was about to find. He still didn’t have a good feeling about this.

“Some nice training today, huh?” The spiky-haired brunette asked while he dried his hair with a white towel.

“It surely was.” The other brunette tried to push his worries away and replied in the coolest tone possible. “Once again you couldn’t stay away from Chi-Chi.”

Goku couldn’t help but grin when he was nudged on the ribs by his friend. “You know me.”

“I sure do.” Yamcha very discreetly looked over his shoulder to see what his fellow martial arts friend was doing. He put on his best fake surprised face. “What’s this?”

“It’s a letter.” Goku flipped it around, looking for any signs that could tell him who it was from, but he couldn’t find anything.

“You don’t know who sent it?”

“No, there’s nothing in the envelope.” He didn’t bother hiding his frustration, though he was also full of hope it would be from Chi-Chi.

“So you got yourself a secret admirer, huh?”

“That seems like it.” With a sigh, he put the letter in his bag, flinging it on his shoulders right after. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Yamcha quickly followed him out of the changing rooms. “I’m surprised you didn’t open the letter right away. It almost seemed like you weren’t too thrilled about it.”

“It’s probably from one of these girls who are desperately to have a boyfriend.” Goku shook his head and shrugged, keeping a very cool tone as he spoke. “I will open it when I get home.”

“I see.” He pressed his lips together. “Either way, I’m curious to know what you will think about it.”

“Really?” He spiky-haired boy looked at him with his eyebrows raised. “Why is that?”

“For no reason.” Yamcha began to panic and his eyes widened when he realized he almost gave himself and Bulma away. “I just want to know what’s in the letter.”

“Alright, I guess.”

****

Goku was lying on his bed chilling and staring at the ceiling when he remembered the letter was still in his bag. He jumped out of his bed and ran to it, returning to his previous position as soon as he grabbed the envelope. He carefully tore it open, so he wouldn’t accidentally rip the paper inside. Then he unfolded the paper and began to read its content. He didn’t remember seeing that handwriting anywhere before, but his heart still started beating faster on his chest. He couldn’t tell whether it was his wishful thinking or something else, but he was sure that handwriting belonged to the girl he had been crushing – sometimes not so subtly – for quite a while.

Hi, Goku!

I hope you forgive me for writing this letter, but I couldn’t find any other way to say what I wanted. In person would be an option, but I’m just not brave enough to do it. Anyway, maybe I should go straight to the point. Okay, so… I’ve been observing you these past few days… maybe admiring would be a more suitable word. Honestly, I don’t know what I intended to do with this letter… maybe just let you know I admire you? Well, either way, I hope you don’t feel embarrassed with it and my confused thoughts. I surely do, now that I’m reading it.

I guess I’ll see you around.

Your secret admirer.

Goku had a huge grin on his face by the time he finished reading the small confessional letter. But he didn’t find it embarrassing in the slightest. It was the opposite actually. He found it sweet. He folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. When he was about to put it away in a drawer, the scent of lilies invaded his nostrils and he shivered slightly. If there was any doubt Chi-Chi had written that letter, it was just gone. For the second time in less than fifteen minutes, Goku jumped out of his bed. This time, however, he rushed out of his house.

****

Chi-Chi was about to leave for school that morning. She yelled bye to her father and opened the front door of her house. Her eyes immediately fell on a single flower lying right in front of it. She bent down and picked it up, silently looking to her right and to her left for someone or something that could tell her who had put it there. But there was nothing.

“Chi-Chi?” The Ox King, her father, walked into the kitchen and saw her frozen on her spot. “Is something wrong?”

“Someone left a lily here.” She walked in again, grabbing a glass and filling it with water for the flower.

“A flower?” He asked while she turned around and put the glass in the center of their table. “It was just there?”

“That’s right.” Chi-Chi nodded and looked at the flower for a few more seconds before shaking her head and smiling. “Well, I should go to school or I’ll be late.”

“Alright. Have a good day, darling.”

“You too, dad.”

****

Chi-Chi was taken aback when she stopped in front of her locker and found another lily attached to its lock. She had just grabbed it when Bulma stopped beside her.

“Well, well, looks like someone’s got a secret admirer.”

“I’m sure that was an accident. Someone must have confused someone else’s locker with mine.”

“Do you really think so low of yourself? Why is it so hard for you to accept someone may have a crush on you?”

“That’s not…” She pressed her lips together, deciding not to argue with her friend. She may have a point. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I am.” Bulma bragged with a grin. “And looks like this person actually knows some of your tastes. Not everyone has lilies as their favorite flower.”

“It looks like it.” The brunette bit her lower lip as she placed the flower on her locker. She could only hope it wouldn’t die before she went home.

“Don’t you wanna know who sent it?”

“Of course I do, but apparently they don’t share the same thought.”

There was a bitter tone in Chi-Chi’s voice; almost like she was disappointed for some reason, but she couldn’t understand why. Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit it.

“It’s possible, but I think we both know who put it here.”

“And also who had left another one at my door earlier.”

“What?” Bulma asked, visibly surprised.

“I came across another lily when I left for school this morning. Whoever left it must know where I live.”

“That’s so sweet!”

“More like creepy.”

“Why must you ruin everything?”

“Come on, you have to admit it was a little creepy.”

“Well…” The blue haired girl had to agree with her friend. “So what are you going to do now?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.” Chi-Chi looked at her. “Wait and see if this boy will reveal himself eventually, I guess.”

****

“Why are there so many petals near your locker?” Yamcha couldn’t take his eyes off the floor while he and Goku went to grab their things to go home after class.

Goku didn’t say anything, he simply opened his own locker and showed him the bouquet of lilies inside it.

“What the…? Did you receive them from a girl?”

“Nope, I’m actually sending them to one.”

“Chi-Chi…” He said after he fully understood the situation. “What did she say about it?”

“Nothing yet. I didn’t tell her they were from mine, so she doesn’t know. At least I don’t think she does.”

“Chi-Chi is smart, she will figure out. If she hadn’t already.”

“That’s true.”

“So what are you going to do now?”

“Now it’s time to put the final part of my plan into action.”

****

Goku felt his heart pounding hard on his chest and began to get nervous with everyone glancing at the bouquet of flowers in his hand. He noticed a group of girls standing not far from her, undoubtedly wanting to know who was the lucky girl that would get the lilies. He prayed Chi-Chi didn’t take too long to walk out of school or that she was still inside. Otherwise he would make a fool out of himself.

The single lily swung smoothly under Chi-Chi’s grasp as she and Bulma left the school building and headed towards the exit. Her heart skipped a beat when she found another one in their path and she knelt down to pick it up.

“Whoever this guy is, he’s really good.” Bulma commented when her friend returned to her previous position.

“Maybe.” She couldn’t help but smell it. “I’m surprised no one took it, to be honest.”

“I guess not everyone likes lilies.”

“Yeah, that may be it.”

For some reason, Chi-Chi felt her heart racing as they got near the gate. She noticed there were more people around than usual that day, clearly waiting to see how things would unfold. As soon as she crossed the gate, she saw Goku from the corner of her eyes, standing on her left.

“Goku.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she watched him get near her. “So it was you all along.”

“That’s right.” He gave her one of his signature smiles and handed her the bouquet. “I heard lily is your favorite flower.”

“It is.” She smiled kindly and was surprised to see he had offered her his arm.

“May I take a beautiful girl home today?”

Chi-Chi felt her cheeks blush slightly, but still linked her free arm with his.

[ask-aesop-sharp]

Dear professor Sharp,

Follow up question, have students ever declared their affections straight out? Have they tried to not so subtly hint at very suggestive situations? That's probably not how it works in reality, but alas, I have only read books.

Much love

-S. Devereux (a very curious 7th year)

Ps. How often do you ever actually have encounters with these admirers????

Aesop leaned back in his chair for a moment, reminiscing on a rather uncomfortable memory he tried his best to suppress. Though much like the incurable pain in his knee, there are some things a person simply doesn't live down easily - and his colleagues liked to remind him of that. Still, he had hope for one, so why not the other? Chuckling to himself he reached for his quill...

Miss Devereux, I'm sure it hasn't escaped your notice, at least one student in a class asks me about it, that any personal effects I carry with me are... for a lack of better description: quite well secured. Whether it be with a double buttoning pocket, an exceptionally well charmed wallet chain, or simply keeping the item so well hidden on my person that only a fool would go fishing for it, I do keep an exceptionally close eye on my belongings. Likewise, there are several locked cabinets in my classroom, and several more I keep in my personal office. Much to the chagrin of would-be pilferers, a simple Alohomora won't be enough to get them open (though I do so enjoy a laugh at watching them try, when they aren't aware I'm nearby). I, and only I, carry the sole key to each of them - I assure you this is relevant to your inquiry. I hadn't been a year or two separated from the Ministry, and in my role as Potions Master when, well, I'm afraid I was a bit careless. Perhaps my experiences as an Auror still predominated my thoughts... or, perhaps, I had simply forgotten what incorrigible little bastards some teenagers can be. Forgive my brusque generalization. I'm not sure how the concoction was brewed, or otherwise "acquired", but an unknown Slytherin student managed to spike my personal stash of Firewhiskey. ...with Amortentia. Just enough to be effective, and just a small enough amount even I didn't notice the change in aroma - I suppose I can commend them for their expert dosage, at least. Fortunately, I'd already locked myself into my personal quarters for the night - less fortunate was I when @ask-professor-weasley came to investigate a commotion she likened to, in her words, "a rabid, lone wolf gone mad, trying to rut the moon". She and I haven't spoken of it since... and I appreciate Matilda's excellent tact. Other than that, it's mostly anonymous love letters and crude notes I confiscate during class. I keep a box of my favorite, and most embarrassing ones in the top drawer of my desk, if you are ever in want of a good laugh. Yours, Prof. A. Sharp

[yanderes-galore]

Hi, hope you're having a nice day!! May I ask for some headcanons for the Platonic Yandere Alpha Kids, or just Jake and Roxy if you'd prefer, with a Reader that REALLY likes dolls and ends up sending them a doll of themselves? Like, sending them a doll that's almost identical to them(the kids!) and a little note with it, apologizing if the doll looks weird or doesn't look like their friend at all

Sure! I'll do a little thing for them :) I just did two since that's my max. I hope I interpreted this right- I did not use Roxy's typing style for this, I still struggle with all of the HS typing quirks lol.

Yandere! Platonic! Jake English + Roxy Lalonde with darling who makes dolls

Short Concept/Reactions

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Tame yandere themes, Dubious companionship, Slight possessive friend themes, This wasn't as yandere as I wanted it-, Invasion of privacy, Swearing.

Jake English 🔫

Jake has always been one for more exhilarating activities.

To him, it's all about adventure, firearms, and brawling.

Jake no doubt has you friended on Pesterchum and is close to you there.

You're one of Jake's only friends besides Jane, Roxy, and Dirk.

As a result he'd pretty close with you.

Somehow you two managed to share photos of each other which is how you got a reference photo of him.

That or you two have seen and spoken with each other through Dream Bubbles.

Really anyone can meet anyone through Dream Bubbles-

Either way, Jake isn't normally a doll person.

Although he takes interest when you mention your little hobby.

When you say you make dolls and enjoy doing it, Jake's just happy you're happy.

He may not understand the appeal but he likes to see you so passionate.

It's a good luck on his best friend!

Jake's obsession is really small at this point.

In this case he's obsessed with the idea of being your closest friend.

He wants to be the one you have the strongest bond to.

The moment you tell him you have a gift for him through Pesterchum, he's interested.

A gift? For him?

He's actually quite excited.

If you're making a gift for him, you must really care for him....

When you send it to him he waits eagerly.

The moment the box arrives with a note from his best friend, Jake tears into the gift.

It surprises him to see a doll in the box.

Not just any doll... a hand sewn doll of him.

Jake's left speechless for a moment before quickly reading the letter.

It's of you apologizing if you didn't get his features right...

The letter even says you made it because you see him as such a good friend.

He's your good friend...

He's over the moon!

While Jake may not be one for dolls, he can make an exception.

You've put so much effort into this!

You've put so much effort all for him!

Jake actually finds himself dropping the letter and quickly snatching up the doll.

He holds it to his chest for a moment before finding somewhere safe to put it.

Jake's definitely going to cherish this gift.

After all, it's a sign of your friendship!

This doll must mean you care for him as much as he does you...

As Jake puts the doll in a safe place, he vows he'll make it up to you.

When you two manage to meet in person Dream Bubble or not, he'll show you just how much he cherishes your friendship!

He can do so much more than just a gift... he'll just have to think of what.

Either way, Jake would happily accept a doll from his darling even if dolls aren't his thing.

Anything made by his best friend he'll cherish for as long as he lives... he just cares for you that much!

If anyone tried to take such a cherished gift away from him may quickly be met with a gun to the face.

"Oh, I loved the gift you sent me! The craftsmanship is exquisite... you've really outdone yourself! I'm happy you thought of me, I'm so lucky to have you as MY friend."

Roxy Lalonde🍷

Roxy most likely knows you through similar means as Jake.

She speaks to you on Pesterchum and sometimes sees you in Dream Bubbles (Not often).

While Roxy is nearly always drunk when speaking to you, she's very pleasant to talk to.

Roxy and you engage in casual chat often, sometimes even including Jane.

Roxy is a bit more invasive with her obsession compared to Jake.

She still sees you two as "bestest friends" bit also... uses her hacker skills to get on your PC and uses appearifying tech to take small things of yours-

She can't help it!

She just likes to know all about her friend and have something of yours to keep-

There's no doubt you two share pictures with each other.

She already has a ton of you but wouldn't mind a few more.

It's dubious on if Roxy would be one for dolls, but I think she doesn't mind a few.

However, Roxy finds the fact you love to make dolls adorable.

In her eyes it's such a cute hobby.

It really fits her best friend.

When you eventually tell Roxy you have a gift for her and ask her to appearify it, Roxy's interested.

A gift? She likes where this is going....

So, she does, and what she receives is easily THE best thing EVER.

Inside the box you prepared for her is a note beside a doll.

A doll of her that she can tell you made yourself... with your own hands.

What's even better?

You included wizard and cat elements, all with a pink aesthetic because she adores them.

You paid attention to her interests....

If that doesn't say you're perfect friends, what does?

Roxy is essentially fan girling at the gift you gave.

IT'S SO DAMN CUTE.

Roxy no doubt keeps it next to the other stolen items she's gotten from you.

She's convinced you two were meant to be the closest of friends after that gift.

You spent so much effort.

Next time she sees you she's going to smother you in affection.

You'll drown in it.

She barely even sees the letter before she's flinging herself back to Pesterchum to ramble about how grateful she is.

Your Pesterchum notifications keep pinging with her trying to correct her spelling mistakes while telling you how much she adores the gift.

She's so happy you're friends.

You have no idea how much you mean to her... she'd do anything for her best friend.

"OMG the gift is PERFECT. You made that? Really? All by yourself and for ME? Holy shit, dude! That's amazing! Fuck, I'm so lucky to have you as a friend...!"

[moved-to-satoruswaifu]

𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 ! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

late pocky day satosera drabble! pure fluff ‘n kisses. you probably know the drill. somehow wrote this in two hours lmao ?? maybe finally managed to beat writer's block a little word count: 641

There’s a small box on her lap now. While she was evaluating the latest test of their students (a fun surprise they had decided to do to improve their theoretical knowledge of jujutsu sorcery), it was neatly placed there — the all-too-familiar white package adorned with blue letters begging for as much attention as the one who gave it to her.

“Pocky?”

“Uh-huh. Cookies and cream. Your favourite. Since we committed an awful crime yesterday.”

Sera narrows her eyebrows in visible confusion, but doesn’t get the chance to ask.

“We forgot Pocky Day. It was yesterday,” Satoru quickly explains.

Ah.

A giggle escapes Sera. She’s certainly not one to easily remember these types of special occasions, and neither is Satoru. Anniversaries and birthdays? Yes. Anything else? Not really.

Picking up the box, she swiftly opens it to reveal the bag filled with Pocky inside. Her husband is already sitting on the couch next to her, watching all too gleefully while Sera tears it open and pulls out one of the chocolate-covered biscuit sticks.

“So you wanna make up for it now?”

“We have to, baby! What kind of a married couple would we be if we didn’t?” Satoru cries out in exaggeration, placing a hand over his heart, as if the very thought physically pains him. His wife, on the other hand, just smiles and bites into the sweet treat — causing the sorcerer to gasp.

“Sera? Are you rejecting me?”

It is difficult for Sera not to smile at the feigned hurt dripping from his words, a marvellous and playful act that Satoru puts on to entertain them both. Of course, she plays along.

“What if I am?

“My wife!?” Satoru gasps this time. “My precious little wife who I love more than anything else in the entire world? Rejecting her amazing and utterly devoted husband?”

As if to prove her words, Sera takes one more bite of the Pocky, before her husband pouts at her. Yet Satoru is already leaning in, closer and closer — wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist to close the remaining space between them.

“What have I done to deserve this cruel punishment?”

“Well, you forgot about Pocky Day, for a start.”

Placing one end of what remains of the Pocky between her lips, Sera looks up at Satoru, the faintest hint of pink dusting her cheeks. Even after already spending several Pocky Days together, her heart still skips tiny beats in anticipation when Satoru wraps his own lips around the other end of the treat. Knowing the effect this has on his wife, Satoru can’t help but smile, before nibbling away as fast as he can.

With a noise of protest — a silent “at least give me a chance!” — Sera races right towards him, only for their lips to meet somewhere in the middle. Both of them giggle into the kiss, like lovesick teenagers who have just shared their first one, and remain connected for a few moments longer. Satoru is the first to pull away, if only to snicker and proclaim his victory.

“That was clearly a draw!” Sera argues, ever amused at his antics, already pulling out the next Pocky. Satoru tilts his head to the side.

“Oh yeah? I think you’re just a sore loser, wifey~”

She’s the one who is pouting now, and Satoru, visibly eager to start their next round, pulls Sera even closer so that they are hip to hip. Sera's hands come to rest on his chest, determination flickering in her honey-brown eyes.

But again, Satoru makes sure to win, reaching Sera’s lips in nothing more than three bites.

“You’re no fun, 'toru,” she whines after their second kiss, only to be kissed again…

“Sorry, ‘m just too eager to get my kisses…”

…and again…

“Mhm... Satoruuu…”

…and again.

“I don’t need Pocky as an excuse to kiss you~”

[obihiro-division]

It was late into the night in the division of Obihiro and Hisoka Tetsumasu had been sitting in his living room after a long day of work when all of a sudden Hisoka heard the doorbell and there sitting pretty on his doorstep were two gifts addressed to him. Bringing them inside his house, Hisoka grabbed the gift closest to him and began to open it.

The first gift was a large two layer cake with three horses on it. Seeing there wasn't a note in the box, the horse lover turned to the box and began to open it.

The second gift was 2 horse themed knit sweaters that looked pretty comfy. Seeing a note, Hisoka picked it up and began to read.

Hisoka-san,

Happy Birthday! I hope you’re enjoying your birthday! I know we haven't really met, but I got you something! A cake as always from me and some sweaters I made! Enjoy!

– Kanra A.

Hisoka was completely taken aback. Never in his life had he had a whole cake to himself... It hurt a little to think about, but he was happy nonetheless. The two sweaters, felt more his speed and he was happy to open them up. However, he was suprised to read the letter. After the interview from the months prior, he only heard about Kanra through Daiki... Alongside some shady dialogue from Jack. He didn't think she would go out of her way to send a gift.

"He didn't tell me she knitted... Or that he even talked about me to her." Hisoka's smile turned into a frown. To think he was afraid of her, all because he some similar traits to someone else... He felt guilty for thinking such thoughts about his teammate's close friend.

Taking his battered cellphone out, Hisoka began to go through the motions to send a message to Daiki. Well, he tried, but his finger slipped and a call began instead. Before the Hisoka could manage to press the button to take back his mistake, Daiki instantly picked up the call with a cheery voice.

"Hisoka! Is something wrong? Hey, hey~!"

Cringing at the volume of his voice, Hisoka clears his voice and answers cautiously. "S-Sorry. I didn't mean to call."

"Oh? Okay!"

"W-Wait!" The redhead is quick to stop the naïve boy from instantly hanging up. "I just... Did you mention me to Kanra?"

"Huh? Uh, yeah. Of course."

"...Why?"

"Because you're my friend?" Daiki seemed puzzled, before he suddenly gasps. "Wait, did you get a cake from her yet?!"

"Yeah?" Hisoka replies, puzzled. "Did you ask her to do that for me?"

"Kinda? I just thought you'd like one too! She baked me one for my birthday as my friend? So I thought, maybe you can become friends with her! Since you don't have a lot of friends." The young man then laughs when he hears Hisoka give him an angry grunt in response. "I figured as one of your few friends, I could help you make more! So I asked Kanra to send you something for your birthday!"

Hearing that, Hisoka couldn't find it in himself reply back. All he could muster was a grumbled thank you, followed by a gruff goodbye. Cutting off the unbearably enthusiastic happy birthday from Daiki, Hisoka set his phone aside and got to putting these new presents aside.

"That kid..."

Thank you for the gift! Daiki fr said "My leader is a friendless bitch" ( ❛ ֊ ❛„)♡

[separatist-apologist]

The Wildest Winter

In the cracks of light, I looked for you

Summary: Viviane had not been Under the Mountain. As her childhood friend, Kallias had been protective of her to a fault over the years- had placed the sharp-minded female on border duty to avoid the scheming of his court. He didn't let her near Amarantha, either. Didn't let anyone get a whiff of what he felt for his white-haired friend, who had no clue- not one- that he had loved her his entire life.

Read More: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 Chapter 6 | AO3

[50 years before Feyre]

Kallias stood before the army that had defended Winter for centuries. Amarantha, too, surveyed them with gleaming interest. 

“Yours isn’t half as large as Autumns,” she crooned, her eyes sliding up his clothed chest. Beside her, Rhysand from Night grinned, as if every filthy remark she made was the height of comedy.

Kallias could have forgiven Rhysand if he’d done what Beron Vanserra was attempting to do—seem mildly pleased with Amarantha’s cruelty, without outright joining her. But Rhysand had sold them all out and for what? Kallias heard half his court had been wiped out the morning after Amarantha’s coup. Perhaps he truly did thrive in darkness, and it didn’t matter who wielded it, so long as he got to have his fun. 

Kallias also didn’t bother to mention that this was merely three fourths of his army. The rest were with Viviane at the border. Not enough to challenge Hybern and still better than nothing at all. He knew what Amarantha meant to do the moment she raised her hands. Rhysand stepped forward, her little puppet given Amarantha couldn’t actually utilize their magic. She was merely a rather ugly box, holding it until someone managed to steal it all back. 

Kallias didn’t dare close his eyes. Standing beneath a bright morning sun in snow that came to his knees, he watched that entire army collapse to the ground row by row like falling dominoes. It was all a miserable waste of life. Kallias meant to send a letter to every family, to offer them a warrior's burial even if Amarantha mangled their corpses, too. As if that offered their families any peace. 

“Anything else?” Amarantha asked, eyes sliding to Rhysand. Kallias refused to speak, furious when that claw slid itself over his own mind. It was a warning of what Rhys could do to him should he choose, a violation of everything Kallias was.

“Just his hatred.”

Amarantha mockingly pouted. “You hate me? Perhaps some time at court will fix that.”

Her cursed court in their sacred mountain. Kallias waited for Amarantha to turn her back before he spat at Rhysand’s boots. Rhys merely smiled, rolling his eyes. As if it was all some hilarious joke. He was too busy obeying Amarantha’s every whim to truly look into Kallias’s mind, which was a blessing.

Kallias knew what he’d find. Viviane and Wegen and everything he loved and held dear, laid out for a mad woman to wreck and ruin. He had no doubt she wouldn’t torture Viviane just to see Kallias submit. 

He pushed all thoughts of Viviane from his mind until Amarantha and Rhys departed. Off to harass another court–Spring, if he had to guess. He still had his spies, just like everyone else. Only Tamlin refused to submit. Kallias wondered if he’d choose the same fate had Amarantha wanted him to be her consort. 

Kira came out of the palace, dressed like a courtier and not a warrior. She’d wanted to join and Kallias had told her no. He needed someone. Nikolai was gone—all that was left was Kira. It was odd to see her dressed in a pine green, fur lined gown and yet it was better than staring down at her dead body.

“Want help?” she whispered. 

Kallias swallowed. He wanted to fall to the ground and scream at the gods. There were so many bodies that the only true way to dispose of them all was to burn them. It was still a warrior's death and yet Kallias thought the snow would never fall white again. The stain of Amarantha’s cruelty, the ash of the dead, would linger for centuries after her inevitable death. 

It wasn’t just him and Kira. Anyone who could, came to help stack pyres and bodies. To lay coins and offer prayers and light torches. It was utter misery, writing the names in the journal Viviane had sent for his birthday. He’d meant to use it to write her love letters, not remember the seemingly endless dead. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. There had been no response from Viviane, though his fox had returned. She’d read his letter, had taken the ring, and done exactly what he wanted. To send a response risked everyone now in her care—and yet, Kallias was so deeply, unearthly afraid of what she made of it. 

He needed to get Viviane out of his mind or he’d never survive. Regardless of her personal feelings, Viviane would never abandon Winter—or him, for that matter. Swallowing a deluge of tears, Kallias scanned the horizon. Not out of love—he willed himself to be made of ice. To pretend he felt nothing at all. 

He knew he wasn’t the only High Lord with a culled army. With a populace now suffering for Hybern’s continued success. Everything Winter was capable of producing had now been doubled, only to route all of it to Hybern. If he wanted to ensure his people didn’t starve, Kallias had to demand a triple output. 

While acrid smoke curled towards an icy sky, Kallias turned his back to all of it. He was a leashed High Lord, worse than the male before him. He’d get everyone killed through simple inaction. It was a choice to do nothing and Kallias couldn't abide by it. Wouldn’t. He’d rather die than see his home reduced to an enslaved territory. 

“What are you thinking?” Kira whispered, eyes scanning his face. Telling her was a death sentence.

The whole damn thing was a death sentence. She’d been spared because she was a member of his court before she was his captain. She could have fled—he’d given tacit permission the very night he’d lost his powers. Some of his court already had, packed up for the continent before the dust had even settled.

If they ever managed to get free, Kallias would be executing traitors. 

“I’m thinking she can’t rule us all unless we’re complacent,” he all but whispered, yanking Kira into his bed-chamber—away from prying ears. 

“They won’t all fight back,” Kira whispered, her voice so, so soft. And Kallias knew that. Beron would wait it out to see if they had a shot before he ever entertained the thought. Rhysand was an obvious no—he’d been so quick to align himself with Amarantha that Kallias couldn’t fathom his motivations. Thesan, too, was unlikely to join unless he knew they had a clear path to victory and Tamlin was too busy trying to break the curse (at least, he hoped) to consider war.

That left Summer and Day. Atticus and Phoebus. He didn’t know them at all. 

Nothing forbade Kallias from reaching out. From writing twin letters asking the High Lords if they’d like to have a meal and discussing how they might redesign long established trade and taxes in an effort to keep their collective people from starving. 

“Kallias,” Kira all but pleaded, reading over his shoulder. “Kallias, she will kill you.”

“She’s going to anyway. Once she’s gotten whatever she’s after, she’ll kill us all,” he replied, well aware his words were only angering Kira further. He knew it, though. Knew in his bones that none of them would be allowed to live. Even Rhysand, for all his calculated treachery, would die in the end. He wouldn’t go groveling—wouldn’t leave the world a coward on his knees. 

“Viviane will kill you, Kal,” Kira hissed, grabbing him by the arm when he tried to walk past her. It was enough to stop him, to force him to think about her again. What was she doing? 

Did she miss him?

“Viviane would understand,” Kallias decided, turning to look at Kira. He felt resigned to this fate, to always wondering without ever knowing. “She would never love me if I rolled over like a traitor.”

“She would want you to survive.”

Kallias held out a hand, unable to draw up even the barest frost. Everything he had, he’d given to Viv. Surely she understood the implications. He was wholly leashed–he had nothing to defend himself with. The once endless river that flowed through him wasn’t even a drip. It was a poisoned sludge he couldn’t touch, lest he betray Viviane and the rest of his home. 

“If I’m successful, we will survive,” he said, careful with his framing. “She’ll survive, and so will I.”She had his heart, after all. Kallias didn’t want it back—she could keep it even when he died. Kira only shook her head, as pale as Kallias so often was. 

“You’re stupid,” she whispered. 

“The alternative is doing nothing. I would rather…” Kallias took a gulping breath, swallowing his anger. It wasn’t right, directing it at Kira. She should have been with Viviane and they both knew it. It should have been Nikolai with him. Nikolai would have understood what was necessary, that duty always came first. Kallias was half glad Viviane had him—Nikolai would temper some of her impulsivity. 

“The alternative is Rhysand,” he finally told her. “Doing nothing is still a choice—it helps her. I can’t…how could I ever look Viviane in the eye and ask her to love me when I sat aside and let a foreign despot destroy our home?”

Kira wrapped her arms around the blue coat she wore. “This is why you’re High Lord, Kal. I don’t think you’ll succeed, but I’m with you until the end.”

He took a breath. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Kallias needed hope. 

He had nothing else. 

VIVIANE:

[40 years before Feyre]

Refugees had been trickling into Wegen over the last decade from more than just Winter. Whatever was happening in Autumn sent people scrambling for the mountains, hoping for safety in Winter. A border Viviane had once been tasked with defending was now wide open. She and Nikolai had decided if someone survived, they deserved to be let in.

No one was allowed to leave. No letters could be sent out, warded impossibly tight by the remainder of Kallias’s magic. It was the only way she could justify letting people in at all—once they knew, even if they hadn’t realized or meant to come, they were not allowed to leave. Viviane and Nikolai locked the city down at sunset, patrolling heavily at every exit. She had bears and wolves trained in the woods and though no one had ever tried to escape, Viviane could imagine a scenario some fifty years in the future where someone got desperate.

You could argue with soldiers, at least. Plead for mercy.

The bears would merely shred someone to pieces. 

Most days, Viviane could pretend nothing had changed. Kallias was High Lord, which meant he was too busy to visit. She had that ring hidden in one of her drawers, his letter stuffed between the pages of a book. Viviane could go a full week without digging either of them out for her inspection. It had taken her a decade to manage. 

And though she had his last letter committed to memory, Viviane was still no closer to a decision regarding her own feelings. Of course she loved him. Kallias had been her best friend for the duration of her life. He always would be. He’d never given her even an inkling that he loved her, and she’d never once considered it. 

Considered him. Kallias was off-limits, and why want something you knew wasn’t for you? She could be practical. Rational, even. 

And if Viviane was honest, she was so, so angry with him. He’d made yet another decision without consulting her. He’d been in love with her since he was ten years old and never, in the centuries they’d been alive, had he ever thought to involve her in that. To tell her. He’d instead sent her far, far away from him and part of Viviane wondered if he hadn’t done that to keep anyone else from taking her from him. 

If he hadn’t done it to keep her from distracting him. 

Fingers snapped in front of her face. Viviane looked up from the dining table and her rapidly cooling porridge. Nikolai was the only thing keeping her from saying fuck it, and going back to the palace to demand he answer for himself. 

“Are you going to eat today?” he asked. She needed to. She couldn’t fall apart, not when so many people were counting on her. It was another spartan meal. Everything in Wegen was self-contained. They could no longer count on the support of the rest of the realm, and Viviane wasn’t going to be the reason someone went hungry. She took a bite, and then another, silently scarfing down the food in response to Nikolai’s watchful gaze. 

“Sentries think there are refugees from the capitol coming.”

Viviane knew what that meant. Kallias had personally sent her someone. She nodded, mentally calculating all the things she needed to do. They’d been drafting anyone willing to serve into the only standing military left in Winter. It had once been open only to High Fae—Viviane had very quickly abolished that, which saw a surge in membership, and had created what she thought was a rather vibrant, almost terrifying army in all of Prythian, assuming the rumors about the winged monsters Rhysand supposedly commanded wasn’t true. 

“Let's go check,” she agreed with a heavy sigh. 

They were quick to button themselves into warm coats and fur-lined boots before heading out into the cold. Viviane jammed her hands into her pockets, her thoughts were more restless than usual. Dawn had broken a brilliant pink over the city, throwing blinding light over freshly fallen snow. In some ways, everything seemed normal—she could hear the sounds of the bustling market and children screaming. A calendar of the week's events was tacked to a light pole. Now that travel was banned and no one could leave, a group of upbeat citizens worked each week to create activities that brought everyone together. Viviane noted cooking classes, quilting circles, and combat lessons in regular intervals.

She’d gone on ice skating excursions on more than one occasion if only to continue the charade that everything was normal. Kallias was just busy.

Kallias was coming back. 

She and Nikolai made their way to the now gated entrance of the city. A group of ten lesser fae sentries waited, shifting nervously as they always did. Winter, like all of Prythian, was divided among the High and Lesser—Viviane couldn’t undo millennia of injustice over the course of a decade. 

“Riyan,” she said with a smile instead, looking up at the ice-coated male. He was the perfect supervisor of the guard, given he stood nearly nine feet tall and his face had never once broken anything but a frown.

Today, he offered her a grim smile. Viviane’s heart stuttered in her chest as fear coated her tongue. Nikolai, scenting it on the icy wind, took half a step forward to peer around the males. 

“Oh,” he whispered, pushing open the opalescent gate quickly. Viviane half hoped it would be the High Lord waiting on the other end, come to tell her the ordeal was over. 

It was her mother. Only her mother, bundled in warm furs. Her hands laid protectively over a sling on her chest, and as Viviane came closer, she realized it was a child sleeping, tucked away from the cold. 

“Where is dad?” she asked, her stomach splattering at her feet.

Her mother blinked her jewel-bright eyes. “There was—” she stopped herself, her voice cracking. No one moved as they waited, the first news they’d head of the rest of Prythian in over a decade.

“Rebellion,” her mother finally whispered. “Your father is dead.”

Nikolai joined Viviane on the edge of their border, dark eyes searching her mother’s face as if there was some clue he might uncover.. “What do you mean there was rebellion?”

She swallowed hard, rubbing the white, fur-lined fabric that held the child. Viviane’s only sibling. 

“The High Lord allied with Day and Summer,” she all but whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. Viviane rubbed a hand rough against her face, drinking in her mother's elegant silver hair pulled off her lovely face. She hadn’t seen her in so long, had forgotten just how much she missed her family. “They tried to bring an end to her rule.”

“What happened?” Nikolai demanded. Viviane came forward, reaching into the sling to pull out the baby. A little pink and silver bow was pinned against pretty, snow-white hair. The child flung out chubby little arms, her mouth pulling in a tiny frown but ultimately she settled against Viviane’s body. As if she knew she was safe. 

“The High Lords are dead,” her mother said. Viviane was grateful she held the baby—she might have winnowed to the capitol on the spot. “Day and Summer lost their High Lords.”

“And us? Did we lose ours?” Nikolai pressed, his olive skin ashen with fear. She shook her head.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. Viviane turned plaintive eyes to Nikolai. 

Please, she silently begged, holding her sister so tightly she threatened to wake her. Her legs shook with fear, the wound in her chest opening until she was certain she must be bleeding all over the dark cobblestone.

“I left because the High Lord told me to go. And I heard—” her mother's voice broke a second time, eyes shifting to the child Viviane held. “I heard she punished us by killing the children at court.”

Nikolai shook his head back and forth. Behind him, every sentry turned their faces away, struck by the sheer cruelty of such an act.

“She wouldn’t dare,” Nikolai breathed. 

“Please,” Viviane whispered.

“I’ll go,” Nikolai agreed. “Because my High Lady is ordering me to, and I obey.”

She ignored the way her mother’s eyes widened, or how the wind carried his silent words to the city behind them. It was well-known, to Wegen, at any rate, that Viviane was the seat of power.

Nikolai stepped away from her, inclining his head respectfully. She watched him start down the road, certain that he would wait until he was far from the city to winnow. She knew Nikolai would die to protect their secrets.

She knew he’d come back.

“Come on, mama,” Viviane whispered, her chest aching. Father was dead.

Kallias was too.

“Let's get out of the cold.”

KALLIAS:

[40 years before Feyre]

He was being summoned beneath the mountain. He, Helion and Tarquin would not be allowed to return to their homes. Kallias had sent away anyone he could reasonably spare that was willing to go. Many of his courtiers had opted to remain in a show of silent support he didn’t deserve. 

Twenty dead younglings. Every child in his court had been slaughtered in the cruelest way imaginable. Rhysand’s power, though the High Lord had been too cowardly to show his face, had ripped through the children in the night. Waking them from the pain, forcing frantic parents out of bed while their children endured a slow, painful death.

Kallias had been spared. He couldn’t fathom why.

No one had presented him with the option. Amarantha had merely delighted that he remained alive and Kallias privately wondered if she held the older High Lords of Day and Summer more accountable than him.

Or, perhaps she had grown bored with the killing, with the not knowing which new High Lord’s would arise after slaughtering the families of Summer and Day. Helion had been merely a scholar, and Tarquin the prince of Adriata, so far removed from the High Lord’s family by marriage and birth that, had they not all been murdered, he never would have been more than a prince. 

He had no family to kill. No parents left alive, no wife, no children. Only his court, now left in crumbling ruins. He’d been given a week to bury his dead, but his palace was in shambles, wrecked and crumbling. Five sets of parents had chosen to follow after their children, and Kallias couldn’t bring himself to look at the rest of them. 

So he sat on that throne of ice, alone in his throne room. Immovable, drowning in his guilt. Trapped under the sacred mountain was a fitting punishment for the High Lord who had sent twenty children to their death. He couldn’t contain his grief, couldn’t squash his misery. 

Footsteps echoed on marble. Somewhere in that dim room, Kira stood as she always did. She’d send the interloper away.

“Nik,” her voice breathed. Kallias looked up, stunned to see his friend striding through the cracked columns of the once magnificent throne room. Kira, his mirror image ever since the atrocity, seemed to crumble at the sight of him. Nikolai looked well. His cheeks were pink from the cold, but his brown eyes were bright, his hair neat, his spine straight. He looked as if he’d been eating well—like he slept at night.

He adjusted his blue jacket, catching Kira against his chest mere seconds before she might have slid to the ground at his feet. He held her, pressing his face into her dark hair. Kallias felt new fear sweep over him, forcing him to his feet. 

“Viviane is–”

“Alive,” Nikolai assured him, not releasing Kira. “And I can’t stay long. I swore I’d come and see if you survived.”

Alive. Kallias descended those steps numbly. She’d sent Nikolai to check on him? Kallias blinked away the urge to fall to his knees, to give in to the sobs he’d been suppressing. He had no right to cry. No right to do anything but accept his punishment silently. Gratefully.

No right to Viviane’s concern. No right to her at all. “How is she?” he whispered, needing to know despite everything. 

Nikolai pressed his lips together. “You should have told her before you did. She’s trying to pretend she doesn’t miss you.”

His heart jumped in his chest. “Is it working?”

A smile tugged at Nikolai’s lips. He released Kira with the softest kiss to her scalp, the only admission he felt anything for Kallias’s Captain. Kira didn’t react at all, though her brown eyes were glassy. Nikolai crossed the marble, clapping Kallias on the shoulder.

“It’s not.” His smile faded and Kallias knew what was coming. Felt utter dread knowing Nikolai would take back his answer to Viviane. Would she still miss him then? “The children–”

“Gone,” Kallias said, turning back for his throne. “Their minds were shattered, they—” They suffered. 

Oppressive silence rang around them. “A…another High Lord slaughtered children?” Nikolai asked, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Yes,” Kira answered, the word dripping with condemnation. “He’s a traitor. He could have allied with us, could have spared us and instead he stands beside her and delights in the cruelty he inflicts in her name. Not even Hellas herself would have him and I hope he rots.”

“How…” Nikolai shook his head, pressing his hand to his mouth. “Even Beron Vanserra wouldn’t…”

“We’re being sent to her court,” Kira told Nikolai, reaching for his arm. “You and Viviane will be all that’s left of us.”

“There’s no more fight,” Kallias added, squashing the hatred he felt. Not at Amarantha—he couldn’t sustain his anger for her any longer. He’d merely turned inwards, had directed it fully to himself. Trying again was unthinkable. What else could he risk losing? 

“For you, maybe,” Nikolai disagreed. “Not for us.”

Kallias didn’t respond, didn’t dare ask what he and Viviane were up to. “The only thing that matters to me is her life,” he told his friend, holding Nikolai’s gaze. Nikolai understood what Kallias couldn’t say well enough—she was to be protected at all costs. 

“Don’t.”

Nikolai’s jaw set in a hard line. “You made her High Lord in your stead. I obey her.”

Kallias shivered without meaning to. The thought of a whole city bowing to Viviane’s rule made his body tight and hot all at once. For a moment, Kallias indulged himself in a daydream—one where Viviane amassed an army strong enough to challenge Amarantha. Where she liberated him. Came for him.

Wanted him.

And Kallias swallowed it, because he knew how it ended. It wasn’t just Amarantha, but Rhysand and whatever armies he was hiding, too. Rhysand, who had more power left at his disposal than any of them. Amarantha, who could draw on the full might of Hybern to crush them.

He’d watch her torture Viviane.

Kill her.

“Don’t,” he whispered, unable to force anyone to do his bidding anymore. He had no authority other than the useless crown atop his head. Nikolai shook his head back and forth.

“You would do it for us.”“Look what it cost me,” Kallias replied, his anguish coloring his words. “What are you willing to lose?” 

The unspoken hung between the three of them.

“I can’t—I won’t—risk her.”

Nikolai inclined his head. He took a step back, his regret plain. “I will see you again.”

Even Kira winced at his words. To have their hope, their belief they could do something to save their home. Each other. Kira and Kallias no longer believed there was anything left to do. Any hope left to them was centered on Tamlin and the loophole Amarantha had offered. Kallias would do nothing else to draw Amarantha’s attention to Winter or what he’d hidden high in the mountains. 

Nikolai turned, leaving Kallias and Kira alone in that emptied throne room,

Surrounded by nothing but their grief. 

VIVIANE:

[an endless eternity]

Viviane stepped from the palace just as she always did. Dressed in well-fitted, fur trimmed white pants and a blue coat dress, she’d come to appreciate an unfussy wardrobe. It was practically a uniform, both practical and a sign of the unchanging times. Dyes were hard to create and blue was one of the few still available with what they could get from the landscape around them. 

The color was lovely, warm and somehow icy all at the same time. They were still in the brutal season still, though spring wasn’t far off. Viviane was looking forward to seeing the ice melt and children back in the street.

Beside her, Nikolai crunched into the snow. Hands crossed over the white military jacket on his chest, she knew he intended to go to the barracks first thing. He’d run drills until the sun set, leaving him exhausted and wrung out enough to sleep.

She knew that feeling all too well. Most nights they ended up in the same bed, backs facing the other, pretending they weren’t wallowing in their combined misery. That after nearly half a century, they were used to this. Used to life as it was. No High Lord—Kallias had been banished beneath the mountain decades ago. No one had heard from him and rumors swirled that he was dead.

Viviane couldn’t prove they weren’t true. A new High Lord might not even realize Kallias had bound the remaining magic to her. A new High Lord might have decided not to say anything and take his chances. She’d never know.

Viviane had nothing but her regrets and that fucking ring she half hated, half worshipped. She’d never been able to put it on.

He could do it himself. Could tell her properly. 

In her imagination, she pictured telling him she loved him, too. She imagined what it would be like to press her mouth against his own, to feel him hold her as he whispered everything in that letter against her cheek.

And sometimes she imagined hitting him across the face so hard it left a mark. She imagined what it would be like to see him sink to his knees while she told him she hated him and would never forgive him for what he’d done. For sacrificing himself. 

For leaving her.

Fifty years, and Viviane had no more clarity than she had when she’d gotten that letter. She’d always loved him.

She didn’t know if she was in love with him. Viviane could barely take care of the remainder of Winter's people, let alone herself and her own feelings. At night she tortured herself with it, tossing and turning until she went looking for Nikolai—assuming he hadn’t found her first. 

Viviane was their General. Their Lady. 

Hilarious. 

“The air smells different today,” Nikolai noted. Viviane inhaled sharply, letting the icy air flood her lungs. Ice and pine invaded her senses–just like always.

“If you say so,” she replied with a shrug. Still, her stomach tumbled at the thought that maybe the world had shifted. Good or bad, at least it was something. She didn’t dare hope, not after so much time, but she did let herself imagine his face when she’d last seen him.

Happy.

Alive.

Brutally handsome in a way that made her ache. 

Gods, she wanted to see him smile at her. Wanted to see his pale blue eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement. She wanted him sprawled over a chair, his lips tugged upwards as he tried—and failed—to pretend he wasn’t interested in every word coming out of her mouth. 

While Nikolai went to run himself ragged, Viviane threw herself into the mindless activities that came with running a city. Mostly, Viviane worked on settling petty disputes and maintaining their existing infrastructure. She collected no taxes in an attempt to alleviate everyone's burden given they were all struggling together. It didn’t stop people from the endless bickering over property and goods and sometimes just each other. 

And sometimes when things erupted unforgivably, the very structures Viviane was trying to preserve were damaged. She wouldn’t pretend that there was no tension. People were restless and exhausted and angry. They vented their rage on everyone around them—the lesser fae, people who disagreed with them, and most often, her. 

A decade earlier, a group had decided to leave and Viviane had slaughtered them all without mercy or regret. It wouldn’t be all for nothing. She vowed that if nothing else. Alive or dead, Kallias’s sacrifice would not be wasted on the restless and the weak. 

She wondered if people would forgive her when it was all over. A good third of the city still resented her for that choice. She’d warned them, and everyone else, what would happen if they tried to cross the border. Maybe it would have been better to leave the slaughter to the sentries.

It was an impossible situation. 

Not just the decisions she had to make, but all of it. Every choice felt weighty, like something terrible would happen no matter what she chose. Fixing a roof or barring people from leaving provoked the same panicked reaction. If she lived a thousand years, Viviane didn’t think it would ever truly leave her.

She met Nikolai in the city square. They dined there every night now, just like everyone else. He had two bowls in his hand and when he saw her, he offered up the stew. His face was battered and bloodied and she wondered if he let the recruits vent their rage on him because he couldn’t do it himself. 

“Anything interesting happen?” he asked with a wet cough. Viviane could smell the blood in the air. 

She buried her face in the stew, inhaling the meat. 

“The mountain pass is snowed in again,” she told him, sighing heavily. “And there’s a crack in the schoolhouse.”

“Could be worse,” Nikolai told her, just like he always did. Viviane titled her head upwards towards the dark sky overhead. Twinkling stars peered back against, bright in the violet night. Her breath clung just ahead of her face, creating delicate clouds all around her. She’d once found such a thing fascinating.

Now she found it tiring. Viviane plowed forward until they reached the arching doors of the mountainside palace. Her chest ached more than usual that night, and when her feet clipped on the floor, she turned to face Nikolai so quickly her stew sloshed over her dress.

“I miss him.”

Nikolai nodded his head with glazed over eyes, his jaw tight with emotion.

“I’m afraid he’s dead.”

Viviane hadn’t dared to ever actually say it. “I’m afraid he’s dead and I didn’t…”

Gods, but she couldn’t even admit it to herself. It was too painful to acknowledge the truth. Furious, angry, burning with hatred—and she still loved him, too. Loved him so much. And if he was dead, it didn’t matter. She felt doomed to miss him until she faded into ice. 

“I know,” was all he said. She knew he did. He’d lost people to that cursed mountain. Had people he was afraid were dead. That he loved. In the scheme of things, Viviane had so much. Her sister was an adult, her mother was alive, and she was bound to Winter as its Lady and Steward as long as there was a High Lord to sit on the throne.

“Come eat.”

One day, Nikolai would stop speaking entirely. Viviane wasn’t sure what would happen to her then. They ate in almost near silence and when it came time to part ways, she looped her arm through his.

“Why pretend tonight?” 

“Your room,” Nikolai agreed, his voice gentle. “Your room is nicer.”

He vanished just long enough to change, giving Viviane a moment to pull out that letter and reread it. 

I love you. Did I tell you that? Well, just in case.

I love you.

She could hear the words with that rich, deep voice. How his lips would be tugged into a playful smile but his eyes would be tight with worry. Kallias never did like not knowing how things might turn out. 

Pulling out that amethyst ring, Viviane slid it on her finger despite swearing she never would. Nikolai stepped in, dressed in his night clothes, and offered an appreciative chuckle. “Feeling optimistic?”

“Maybe it's good luck,” she replied, immediately embarrassed she’d been caught. 

“It looks good on you,” Nikolai offered, taking her hand to admire and silver on her hand. “You should keep it.”

She twisted the band, intending to take it off. “I think—”

Her knees slammed to the floor before she could finish her sentence. Palm stinging against the hard floor, Viviane took a gasping breath. Something in her chest ripped, unwinding decades of magic. Viviane was going to be sick. Distantly, she could hear Nikolai calling her name, his hands gripping her shoulders.

How foolish, to think Kallias had ever died without her noticing. She pushed Nikolai off her, stumbling for the window. The shimmering wards that had long shielded the city were gone. 

“Vivi–”

“He’s dead,” she whispered. “Kallias is dead.”

KALLIAS: 

[an eternity and a day]

I’ve come to claim the one I love. 

Three months. That was how long the filthy, underfed human named Feyre had managed to last. Kallias was still as breathless at the sight of her as he had been the first day she’d said those words. 

I’ve come to claim the one I love. 

He’d stopped dreaming about the sky. Of fresh fallen snow blanketing bright green pine. Of the smell of the cold, the sound of cracking ice.

Of blue eyes set beneath a cascade of silver hair. Kallias had stopped thinking about Viviane long before Feyre ever arrived, though she had a starring role in all his dreams. He indulged because he had no other reprieve from the endless horror of forty years beneath a mountain. 

All Feyre had to do was kill three of them. The crowd shifted anxiously, awash with a mixture of anticipation and hope. She was too pale, blue eyes wide with horror. No one held it against her. No one from his court, a small mercy given how few were even left to pick through. He saw another Summer court denizen, stolen with eyes squeezed shut tight. Across the room, Tarquin’s lips moved silently in prayer. 

The next was from Day. Helion set his jaw grimly, looking at the female with unguarded pride. Her life for everyone. For her home, her High Lord. She murmured encouragement to the trembling human. If anyone breathed, Kallias couldn’t tell. His own heart was still in his chest, his hand numb from how tight Kira squeezed it. 

Feyre hesitated.

Please, he prayed. His first since Amarantha had stolen everything from him. Please do this.

A second ash dagger stole a second life. All was left was one, was—

Kira dropped Kallias’s hand at the reveal. Of Tamlin, still in the horrible golden mask, staring back with such open defiance. Kallia turned his head, blood rushing in his ears. He’d been too hopeful. Had forgotten the little tricks of their kind. With knee wobbling fear, he forced himself to suffer through Amarantha’s taunting, of the shaking hands of the human who loved one of them. Love them enough to risk the almost certain death Kallias was certain Amarantha would foist upon her.

Feyre might survive this, but she’d never survive the humiliation of besting Amarantha. He didn’t care if it meant he could leave. It wasn’t the love of his life up there, after all. She was safe. Protected and secure.

Happy, he hoped. 

Feyre raised the dagger, blinking away rushing tears. Kallias knew what Tamlin did—what every High Lord in the room knew. Their hearts were stone, held by Amarantha and her unusual magic. Tamlin would survive, but the attempt would satisfy the deal. 

Please let her succeed, he prayed, unable to take his eyes off her.

The ash tip pierced Tamlin’s chest. Blood sprayed against Feyre’s too place face, throwing the scent of metal in the air. Across the room, the Vanserra siblings all shifted anxiously, eyes darting toward the door. She’d done it. Spring was free. Kallias didn’t know what he expected at that moment. Tamlin, perhaps, to shed the immortal skin for the famed claws and fur. Kallias wanted to see blood dripping from the High Lord's fangs. Wanted to see Amarantha ripped to pieces and eaten, so there was nothing left of her.

Not even her awful, ugly hair. 

“Oh, Mother save us,” Kira whispered when Amarantha barked out one of her awful laughs. He turned to Helion, to Tarquin when the human began screaming. What did it matter, his eyes silently pleaded. She’d free them on her deathbed ten thousand years from then. 

What did it matter? 

“Kal–”

Rhysand rushed forward, a knife in hand. Kallias couldn’t make sense of any of it. Bracketed between Helion and Tarquin, open mouthed like the other two, he merely stared in open mouthed horror. 

Rhysand bleeding against the wall.

Tamlin pleading on the floor.

“Love,” Feyre choked out wetly. The room went utterly still again. Horror and revulsion sharpened into unmistakable blood lust. “The answer is love.”

Her spine snapped loudly, but the words had been said. Beron Vanserra barred his teeth in a cruel, hungry grin. Thesan angled his body closer to that dais, eyes narrowed with unmistakable want. Kallias, too, wanted to paint himself in Amarantha’s blood. Anticipation flooded the room as Tamlin stood. His mask clattered to the floor along with the rest of his court, though it didn’t seemed to have registered for the High Lord.

Sharpened fangs erupted from Tamlin's gums, his fingers elongating into razor-sharp talons. The evisceration that followed was art, was every fantasy Kallias had harbored come to life. He delighted in Amaranthas terror, that her final moments were consumed knowing she lost to a human. That everyone she’d harmed clamored for more, would have stood there for a month to watch it drawn out. 

Though, it was smart to finish her quickly. Her last breath wooshed into the room, slamming into Kallias so hard that he, along with Helion, both nearly tumbled to the floor. Helion and Tarquin had never felt the full breadth of magic but for Kallias, it was like waking up again. He felt the soft snapping of that little pulse he’d sent to Viviane, cracking like fragile ice beneath the weight of his might. She’d feel it too.

He’d need to go to her before she panicked. 

Bring her back, a voice whispered in his mind. For her sacrifice, give her immortality. 

Whether it was his own thought or not, Kallias was too numb, too shocked and keyed up to do anything but step forward. Tarquin and Helion came with him, joining the remaining four. Kallias added his own wisp of magic to the bleeding, broken body cradled against Tamlin’s chest. 

He would have given far more than one immortal existence if it meant he could see Viviane again. It was all he could think about, even as he stood witness to the most remarkable thing he’d likely ever see in his life. Color flooded Feyre’s once hollow cheeks as life wormed its way back into her ravaged body. The bloodied wounds knitted themselves, her bones cracking and snapping back to where they belonged. 

She took a breath, and then another. It was enough to send Kallias scattering. He wasn’t the only one. The Vanserras were practically running from beneath the mountain, while both Helion and

Tarquin were gesturing for their new court, scrambling with their new power. Kallias needed to do the same.

But they wouldn’t remain. He was following just behind the Vanserra’s just as soon as he got the words from his mouth.

“We meet in Wegen,” he said, looking over the brutalized remains of his court. Amarantha had destroyed the capitol, and after forty years lying in ruins, Kallias wasn’t inclined to rebuild. Viviane was there.

And Viviane was home. 

“Collect whatever it is you need from this place. Leave everything else.”

A sea of faces stared back with disbelief, a feeling well echoed in Kallias’s chest. Decades of despair had taken their toll. The thought of going outside filled him with anxiety.

“I’ll meet you there,” he told them. Kallias didn’t want anything. Not his clothes, his crowns, his jewels. Just her. Gods, Kallias wanted to see her so badly that he, too, almost ran out of the room. He wasn’t the only one. Kira, as she had been since everything went to shit, grabbed his elbow. She squeezed when they climbed the steps to the tunnel leading out—leading to Autumn.

There wasn’t one directly into Winter, an impractical undertaking given all doors tended to freeze. 

“Can you winnow?” Kira whispered, glancing over her shoulder. Kallias was tempted to look back, too. He kept waiting for Amarantha to pop back up, to drag them all back by their throats. His whole body trembled when he stepped into Spring, his lungs filling with the first free breath he’d taken in five decades.

“Yes,” he replied, swallowing the knot in his throat. 

“What are you going to do first?” she asked, lacing her fingers with his own.

It was pure hubris that responded. “I’m getting married.”

[imaginedreamwrite]

Break my heart with Steve + song lyric. Please just shatter me!

Here’s my attempt! Trigger warning for death, loss of life, mourning and grief

“Hi Steve.” He smiled bashfully and smoothed his hair down, aware of his newer size and strength, of his change in appearance. “It’s been a while.”

“I’m on a little leave before I have to go back.” He blushed, studying you and paying special attention to the hair bow you chose.

He would have to bring you back some fancy bows from France or England, something you’d really love.

Gave his order to a girl with a bow in her hair

He's a little shy so she give him a smile

So he said would you mind sittin' down for a while

And talking to me, I'm feeling a little low

“Do you have a minute?” Steve felt nervous, anxious to his core while you poured him a coffee. “I’d like to talk to you.”

“Yeah…I’ve got a minute.” You flashed him a smile, your pretty eyes and beautiful smile making his entire uniform feel tight and rigid, instilling an incessant need to fidget. “Are you okay?”

“I’m shipping out soon, again.” Steve drew his hand over the edge of the napkin, his heart skipping a beat the longer he looked at you, the longer he searched your beautiful face. “And I was thinking when I came back…”

“Steve,” your hand rest upon his, reflecting the same small town and meagre upbringing he experienced, “are you asking me out?”

So they went down and they sat on the pier

He said I bet you got a boyfriend but I don't care

I got no one to send a letter to

Would you mind if I sent one back here to you

“You’re not…you don’t have a soldier…?” Steve felt foolish, he felt like he was crossing a line and making some kind of mistake.

“No,” you squeezed his hand and brushed your thumb back and forth against him, “I don’t have a soldier. Its just me.”

“Me too,” Steve spoke with forlorn, dropping his gaze to your ring finger wondering what it would look like in the future, “but maybe when I get back we could see a film?”

“A film.” Your lips formed a small smile, nodding excitedly. “I’d really like that. To see a film with you.”

“I can write you too, if you want.” He could see it now, the life before him in a tiny place in Brooklyn. “I’d like to have someone to talk to.”

“Of course, Steve. You can write me anytime.”

I cried

Never gonna hold the hand of another guy

Too young for him they told her

STEVE ROGERS, HERO OF THE AMERICAN PEOPLE CRASHED INTO THE OCEAN—

Your hand shook and your eyes screwed closed. Nausea befell you, a cry or scream ripping from your throat as you clutched his last letter and broke down on the floor of your small apartment. You couldn’t deal with the immense loss and the papers that printed the news of his death had caused a great deal of mourning among people around you.

You were alone when you found out, you had little to remember him by. His letters and his Saint Christopher necklace he gave you was safely tucked in your drawers. Your heart felt like it was turning to ash in your chest, your mind thinking of nothing but him.

You finally cried, you finally broke down and managed to verbally mourn him. Your tears were rolling down your cheeks hot and heavy, your back pressed against the cracking plaster wall.

You’d been visited by one of the soldiers he had fought with, one of the men who returned home alive had given you something from Steve. The box that you hadn’t even touched yet had sat on your kitchen table with his handwriting scrawled across the tag.

“I know it hasn’t been long, but I wanna marry you. I’m gonna come home and we’re gonna get married.”

Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier

Our love will never end

Waitin' for the soldier to come back again

You kneeled in front of the grave they had for him, your fingers clutching the stone as you cried. You could barely breathe, barely speak and hardly get out the goodbye he deserved. Your heart shattered when you read the epitaph and you felt as if part of you died with him.

“I miss you.” Your voice shook, your fingers trailing across his name etched in stone. “I miss you so much.”

Never more to be alone when the letter says

A soldier's coming home

[jianghuchild]

In The Wind

I wrote this story a couple years ago, as a response to my anxieties about the Russian invasion of Ukraine, the pandemic, and the idea that lifelong separation often disguises itself as something much more trivial.

I was angry with you that night, the last night we would ever see each other. You’d forgotten to take out the trash again. The house was a mess, and the twins were bouncing off the walls.

“How many times do I have to say this?” I told you, voice stringent. “I can’t put my foot down anywhere. Look at this.” I picked up the papers strewn across the dining table and slapped them back down. I kicked at the cardboard boxes blocking the hallway. “And this. Malachi, take that out of your mouth. Mara, watch your brother.”

“Gonna see gramma, gonna see gramma,” the kids chanted, either gleefully oblivious to my ire or purposefully ignorant.

“It’s fine,” you said, flapping a hand at me. “I’ll clean it when we get back.”

My annoyance simmered all night and flared to new life the next morning. The wind was so strong it almost blew us apart and I just managed to wrangle the kids into the airport’s stillness. I watched you pat your jacket, a look of infuriating innocence on your face.

“Where’s my passport…” you mumbled. The PA system chimed and announced that our flight was boarding. And here we were, stuck at check-in. You looked up, apology in your eyes. “You take the kids. I’ll catch the next flight.”

Looking back, I imagine that I felt a prickle of unease go down my spine. But maybe it was just the last vestiges of my frustration. Should I have stayed?

No, I would have said, It’s alright. We’ll go home together.

But the kids twisted in my sweaty hands and annoyance made tangled knots of my thoughts and if truth be shamefully told I wanted to punish you. And, not so shamefully, I am glad for my selfishness because it took the kids with me.

“Let’s go,” was what I really said, tugging on their hands. “Your father will catch up.” Mara turned to look back at you curiously. I gave her a gentle tug. “Come on. Time to go see gramma.”

Did you know what would happen? Sometimes, when I am desperate for poetry, when I am hungry for some sense to the closed borders and gas shortages, I imagine that you must have. I imagine that you knew the airlines would shut down and we could no longer stay in the country and that you made some great sacrifice to push us to safety. I imagine I am the ill-fated heroine in a tragic play, watching the threads unravel into my inevitable epilogue.

But I am weaving story where it doesn’t exist. Because of course you didn’t know. How could any of us know, if even the presidents and prime ministers did not?

You’ll be glad to know I watch the news now. I don’t do it like you did, with a rice bowl in your left hand and a foot propped up on the edge of your chair. I do it sitting straight, fingers stilled on my chopsticks and a mug half-raised to my lips.

And sometimes I don’t, because sometimes a man with blue eyes in a windless mansion drools false sympathy into the TV.

“I hear what you’re saying, Sarah, I do,” he lies, and says words like “collateral damage” and “economic recession.”

Malachi asked me when we could go home, some months or weeks after we left. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that this was home. I stroked his nose with my knuckle and smiled.

“Well, the airplanes are very tired.” He swung his legs in his seat. I glanced at his clumsy letters. “But planes like boys who work hard, so if you do well in school maybe they’ll make you an exception.”

I refused to feel guilty for the lie. We all need some false hope.

My mother and I watch the news together, sometimes. That man, Jared Thompson or Karl Cobbler or whatever his name is. (I know the news anchor’s name, but I am trying to make a point.) The blue-eyed man smiles genially from his tall ivory office.

“He reminds me of someone,” says my mother. “We didn’t have TV back then.”

She takes my hand in hers. I trace her finger, slightly bent at the same angle as mine. I’m startled to find I have callouses in the same places she does. The air is heavy, so I grab a cracked banana leaf fan and fan us both. The weight in my chest does not lift.

Mara lost her temper once. (More than once, but I am telling this story so it makes sense. At least in my head, I need this to make sense.) I took her to get the E string on her half-size violin replaced, and she wouldn’t get out of the car.

“Dad will fix it,” she said.

No, he won’t, I tried to say, but the words stuck like a fishbone in my throat.

“Of course he will,” I said instead, “but in the meantime you still want to play it, don’t you?” I perched on the cracked leather of the backseat and reached for her hand. She jerked it away, tucking her toy into her armpit.

“Dad will fix it,” she said again.

My own string snapped with a sting. I grabbed Mara’s tiny elbow and tugged. She shrieked. I yanked harder, but she scrabbled against the flaking leather and kicked her Skechers in my face.

“Fine!” I snapped, red face and wind-tossed hair giving the impression of a smoking fire. I slammed the back door and jerked myself into the driver’s seat, muttering all the way. “You want to play with a broken toy, you do that. I drive all this way, waste precious gas, you little ingrate—” The seatbelt jerked to a stop in my impatient hands and I resisted the urge to tear it to shreds.

Mara cradled her broken violin in her skinny arms. When we got home, I rested my forehead against the steering wheel until my mother coaxed me out of the car.

I’m a light sleeper. I bar the windows so the night wind will not wake me. I always got annoyed with you for opening the bedroom windows. Now, alone in my bed, the air stagnant as a dead summer, I pretend I am arguing with you. In my mind you slide the windows open and I grumble as the draft slides cold fingers down my arms.

“You’ll swallow the sky and float away in your sleep,” I mumble.

“A little breeze is good,” you say. You wrap your furnace of a body around mine. “The wind will carry me to you.”

My eyes snap open. The sheets are cold and the air is still. I turn on my side. The windows in this house aren’t the sliding glass kind like we used to have. They’re shutters that swing open like doors, bolted from the inside.

Eventually I tire of watching the news. When the blue-eyed man says words like “our heroes” and “liberation,” I stand at the door and watch the dirt road like a forlorn girl in one of those romances. Your silhouette never breaks through the dust. The road throws up eddies of dirt but the wind is aimless and smells of spider lilies. (I don’t know what spider lilies smell like.)

Malachi graduates middle school at the top of his class. Mara plays the cello and learns to change her own strings. They track airlines and ticket prices on our beat-up desktop computer and close the tab when they catch me watching. Some borders open, but not all, not yet.

Maybe not ever, no one says.

The night you return is the night I know you will never return. Papers are strewn across the table and cardboard boxes clutter the cramped halls. I startle awake on the worn couch with Malachi’s jacket around my shoulders. Mara is playing a rendition of Baikal Lake, but that isn’t what woke me. I sit up. Malachi’s jacket slides into my lap. I turn around. 

A wind has blown the window open, warm despite the autumn night.