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rosesanddecay · 1 year ago

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Oscar Isaac Characters Finding You Dead

Minors DNI

Featured Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Moon Knight System, Basil Stitt, Blue Jones, Poe Dameron, Nathan Bateman, Duke Leto Atreides, Prince John, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Anselm Vogelweide, Llewyn Davis, Abel Morales x gn!reader

Sorry if anyone is ooc!

CW: death, murder, suicide, blood/gore, break-in, various wounds, torture, etc. + pet names, untranslated Spanish, so on.

Notice! Not all of these scenarios are romantically founded, the reader is just someone who knew the character/was close with them.

These are just some short, dumb little rambles/headcannons of mine, so it’s not written the best.

Not proof read or heavily edited

Miguel O’Hara - Villain Attack

There was never a doubt in Miguel’s mind, he knew that one day he’d have to save you. But not like this…

A Green Goblin anomaly had appeared and started bombing Nueva York.

You’d think with all the Spider People so close by, there’d be no casualties. But being so focused on protecting other universes, he almost neglected his own.

The moment Miguel was aware of the anomaly, he and many other Spiders rushed in to help protect the city.

The damage was already extreme, with two buildings nearly demolished.

Spiders spread across the scene, saving and moving the bystanders as Miguel focused on the alternate Goblin.

After capturing the terrorizer, Miguel started barking orders to everyone, wanting everything cleared up asap.

He was heading back to base as the spiders cleared the rubble.

“Oh god- MIGUEL!” One of the Spiders cried out as they tried to lift a large blanket of concrete up. The urgency in their voice quickly set Miguel off.

Miguel rushed over, his heart dropping seeing your dust covered body.

How long had you been under there? Why didn’t anyone sense you sooner? Miguel’s mind raced with panic.

With his sheer strength, he threw the debris away from your body and checked your vitals, his eyes focused on your face the entire time.

Open your eyes… please… mi amor…

When didn’t feel a heartbeat, he went to start cpr, but realized your ribs were broken. The broken bones had stabbed your vital organs, he couldn’t save you, it would’ve only caused more damage.

Miguel didn’t even realize he was crying until he saw his tears hit your face, muddling the dust covering your skin.

It wasn’t often he cried, hell, it took a good few minutes for him to start crying over Gabriella’s death. But after another loss, he couldn’t hold in the pain he was already barely containing.

His arms cradled your broken body with the most care possible. It didn’t matter that you were gone, you were his, the person he swore to protect.

I failed again…

Sobs ruptured through the bombing site. The boss who everyone saw as intimidating and cold, was now hunched over, sobbing over your limp body.

I failed.

I failed…

Moon Knight System - Steven / Marc / Jake - Break-in and Murder

Steven, once again, had a late night of work at the gift shop. He was exhausted when he came home, but was more than happy to be back home after stocking shelves for hours.

He was almost tempted to let Marc or Jake front instead, but Steven wanted to see you before Jake took off to do Konshu’s bidding later in the night.

“Love, I'm back!” He says, keeping up his cheerfulness. It had been a long day, he just wants to see you.

Looking around the house, Steven felt confused. You normally rushed to meet him, to welcome him back.

Where were you?

Walking into the bedroom, Steven saw your form under the blankets.

“Love? Are you not feeling well?” He asked quietly, worried he might wake you.

You looked at peace, your hair tousled as it lays on the pillow. Your skin was a bit pale, but Steven smiled softly, assuming you were just tired, he knew he sure was.

His hand fell on your covered stomach as he sat beside you. But a warmth quickly spread over where he had applied pressure to the blanket.

Looking over, Steven nearly had a heart attack. His hand was tacky from blood that now soaked the thick comforter that’s covering you.

With fear rushing through his veins, he ripped off the covers to reveal the stab wounds littered across your torso.

A scream ripped through his chest as he quickly tried to see if you were still alive. His heart dropped when he felt your cold skin and lack of a heart beat.

Despite Jake and Marc trying to desperately front, Steven wouldn’t let them or listen to their pleads.

Instead, he grabbed your body and sobbed. His hand clasped yours, wishing yours would squeeze his, that you’d wake up and kiss his worries away.

No, no, no— what happened— love… oh god…

It took a good while for Steven to let one of the others front, but Marc took over when he got the chance.

Both had been confined to the mirrors in the bedroom, wishing they could hold you like Steven had. Instead, for over an hour, they were stuck in the mirrors, cursed to grieve from a distance.

Steven faded back into the subconscious, too drained to watch Marc from the mirror.

Jake, on the other hand, took a step back into the subconscious because he had his own plans.

Marc didn’t sob as much as Steven did, but his pain was just as bad.

He had lost so much in life, he was almost confused on how to express his grief for you.

His fingers run along your face, tracing every detail he loves so much. Marc wished you would open your eyes, but your body was long since cold.

Marc wished he complimented you more. Sure, he praised you often, but did you know how much he loved you?

His heart ached with guilt. Marc wanted to make you blush once more from his compliments and soft kisses.

He didn’t know who did this. But he would. They’d find out who did this.

They all would get justice for you.

By Konshu’s word, he swore they would.

It was Marc who called the police and watched as you were dragged away to the hospital morgue.

It was Marc who watched the security footage that showed your killer breaking into the apartment and leaving an hour later.

It was Marc who found out the explicit details that came with your murder.

Marc was the one who told Steven and Jake the details.

This shouldn’t have ever happened… but now we know. What do we do next?

Jake was the protector, or so he’s supposed to be.

Standing over your body in the freezing morgue, Jake stared at your expressionless face.

He could remember the last time you two had a date night. The night was warm as he drove the two of you around town. He could remember the beautifully warm smile that broke across your face as the date came to a close.

Jake would do anything to see that smile again.

The others had already fronted to say their final goodbyes, Jake wanted to be the last one. He wanted to talk to you one last time.

“We found out who did this, amor.” He whispered, trying to contain his wavering voice.

“They won’t get away with this…” His lips brushed your forehead.

”I’m sorry I couldn’t save you…” His tears finally fell down as he reluctantly pulled away.

As he left the hospital, Jake dawned the suit and slipped into the night, ready to enact revenge for you.

Your murderer will regret ever laying a finger on you…

Basil Stitt - Suicide

Basil hadn’t seen you in a while. Yes, part of it was because he had locked himself in his apartment, but he also just hadn’t seen you pass by his door.

He always had his eye to the peephole when you should be leaving or getting home from work.

Is that weird? Of course, but it made him feel less alone. He wanted to talk to you, but his scars contained him to his room.

Where were you? He wondered after spending an entire day looking out into the hallway.

Basil’s heart dropped when he saw movers taking garbage bags out of your apartment.

What are they doing to your things?

Despite his fear, Basil dawned his paper bag and poked his head out.

“What are you guys doing?” Basil questioned nervously.

“There was a suicide. The family wanted us to collect the person’s belongings.” The confused and hesitant workers answered.

Basil slammed his door and collapsed to the ground instantly. The paper bag tumbling to the floor as he clutched and pulled his hair.

His body trembled with grief and hatred as tears pooled on the floor.

He never was good at reacting to bad information, but this was worse.

Why did you leave him too? What did he do wrong?

First it was his face, then his job, then his family and girlfriend, but now you too?

His tears turned to screams and Basil went on a destructive rampage in his apartment, the agony overwhelming him.

He blamed himself for your death, despite barely knowing anything about it.

Maybe if he hadn’t gone into hiding, you would’ve lived. Maybe you two could’ve been lonely together.

But he was also angry.

How could you leave him after everything that happened to him? When he needed you the most?

You didn’t know though. How could you? Your neighbor, the only person you saw everyday, had disappeared for weeks without a word.

Basil knew that, but nothing could stop the emotions flooding and pouring out of him.

Why did you leave me? Why? Why?! Why?!?

Blue Jones - Murdered by a Client

Working for Blue always had its risks, and everyone knew that, including him.

But Blue didn’t expect this.

You had been bought out for the night by a rich newcomer. Nothing bad was supposed to happen.

Blue gave them permission to use you as you saw fit. As long as the merchandise didn’t get damaged, anything went.

Blue stood over your strangled body, his face neutral and flat.

Your glossed over eyes stared back at him, lips hung open loosely.

He didn’t expect his toy to be destroyed, let alone strangled to death.

Your costume was still on, but your makeup was out of place. Blue’s doll was a beautiful, broken mess.

Blue exhaled a puff of smoke as he turned to the killer, the man a sobbing mess.

“I didn’t mean to- they wouldn’t listen to me- please let me go, I’ll compensate you-“ He tried to ramble out, shutting up when the barrel of Blue’s gun pressed against his forehead.

The shot rang through the entire building. The girls and clients quickly rushed out of the other rooms to see what happened.

Screams and tears broke out from the girls as Blue pushed past everyone going to his office.

But it was once he was alone that Blue had the chance to process what happened.

Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw your dead ones. It hurt seeing something he owned in such a state.

Only one tear falls down his cheek as he reviews the footage of what happened. He always kept cameras in the rooms, it was a security measure, but he didn’t think he’d actually ever watch the footage for something like this.

Blue already knew the man was lying about why he killed you, but it hurt to watch you get choked and beg to be let go of.

The man was just angry, he only wanted to kill. You had done nothing wrong. Which made Blue mad.

He leaned back in his seat as the hot, silent tears fell down his cheeks, hidden by the cigar smoke flooding the front of his face.

Blue decided that, from the forward, he was going to be far more strict with who could touch his toys…

My poor bunny…

Poe Dameron - Spaceship Crash

You and Poe had agreed to stay safe, to meet one another after the fight concluded.

Together, you were going to celebrate the victory.

Poe knew you were an intelligent flier, that you were going to do great things for the universe.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that everything went well, until he joined the celebrations…

Everyone was celebrating over the successful stop to the First Order. But as Poe searched the crowds, he realized you were missing.

Fearing the worst, he darted to the medical tents, desperately looking for you. His fears were met when he saw your barely breathing body.

Poe fell to his knees besides the cot you rested on, analyzing the damage you had taken.

He called out your name, to no response.

“Their ship was shot and crashed. There were some malfunctions and the safety’s didn’t trigger. They don’t have much longer, there’s nothing we can do on such short notice.” A nurse sadly explained.

“So you're just leaving them to die out!?” Poe exclaimed in horror, his tears falling fast and hard.

Despite wanting to reprimand the nurse, he knew it would do nothing. Instead, he held your hand to his lips as he watched you until your final breath.

In your final moments, Poe had been whispering soft and loving words to you, hoping you could hear him.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner, that any of this happened. You deserve the world, the galaxy. You helped save us. You’re a hero… you’re my galaxy…”

Poe couldn’t stop crying, and he could barely hear himself over the cheering outside.

He should’ve been celebrating with you, this shouldn’t have happened.

No one knew where Poe had gone, and hours later, Finn had to pull Poe away from your body.

Despite all reluctance, Poe eventually left your side for the night, but he didn’t stop mourning you.

That night, he spent his time in your room holding your belongings close, not wanting to lose the last bits of you he does have.

My galaxy, I’m so so sorry…

Nathan Bateman - Killed by a Prototype

You had been one of the few people Nathan trusted enough to come around the house.

Not that he ever let you go downstairs, no.

He didn’t need you to.

When first developing Ava and her predecessors, he had chosen to try and study a real person. Not through the cameras like he did later on, no.

He thought it’d be better to model the AI after someone he liked.

But he was wrong. One of the few times he had let his emotions make his decision, and it was the worst one.

While trying to work out the kinks of the AI, it had escaped. It had knocked him unconscious for long enough that it made its way upstairs.

The girl stared at you in horror as you stood in the kitchen, knife in hand from making dinner.

You looked just as shocked to see a nude woman coming up from the basement, wires hanging from her broken arm.

She even looked oddly similar to you.

Before you could even react, she tackled you, the knife going flying.

Nathan, having heard the crash, awoke and ran upstairs.

He came up from behind and broke the AI’s skull, the body falling on top of you.

“For fucks sake. That was awf…” he trailed off once he shoved the AI’s body to the side and saw you.

Nathan didn’t know how to react seeing your bleeding body, knife sticking out from where your heart is.

There was no hospital nearby, and with how glassy your eyes looked, he knew you were doomed.

Silently, Nathan sat back on his knees and feet, just staring down at your lifeless body.

He wasn’t an emotional person, but he didn’t like how he felt at that moment.

His eyes searched yours before shifting to the dead AI woman, his creation, your killer.

Nathan’s fists reacted quicker than his brain had, and before he knew it, his hands were bloody from breaking the AI down to nothing but shards.

His feet moved to the bar, and before he knew it, he had drunk a full bottle of vodka.

His knuckles, caked in dried blood, chucked the bottle at the wall. The shatters go flying, some even hitting you…

Nathan stood over your body, once again, staring down at you. His expression unclear.

After your death, Nathan was far more careful. Adding keycards to open doors, not just simple locks.

He even kept the prototypes locked up no matter what.

And who knows, maybe your death is what got him to start drinking so much…

How idiotic…

Duke Leto Atreides - Poisoning

Leto knew the dangers of loving you, yet he still did it.

He always made his love clear, practically worshiping you in private.

Leto would risk his life and title as Duke just to care for you for forever.

He wanted to propose eventually.

But your life was taken long before he had the chance.

The Duke looked down at your slumped body, your poisoned drink spilt from where your head had fallen.

In that moment, Leto regretted never marrying you.

He loved you, but in theory, it was better to stay unmarried, open to alliances with the other Great Houses.

But this wasn’t worth it.

Your life wasn’t worth it.

Leto had to keep his composure in front of his men, but in the comfort of his room, he cried. He weeped.

His sobs shook his body as remorse and grief overwhelmed his senses.

Seeing your body in such a way, it shook him to the core.

Sure, he had experienced death before, but this was different.

He loved you, and he saw where you died, he saw you dead.

Choked sobs escaped his lips as he recounted all the moments you two shared.

He wished he could’ve kept you safe, stopped you from drinking the poison.

You were in the House of Atreides, you should have been safe.

That’s what ate at him. That you died where he swore you were protected.

You died under his care.

Why you were killed, he wasn’t sure. But he swore to find out, to avenge you.

If nothing else, he’d make sure to get you justice.

He loved you, and he messed up never marrying you.

I wish I had made you mine, my dear…

Prince John - Assassination

John, the prideful idiot, should’ve never put a bounty on Robin Hood’s head.

It only made his reputation worse.

John should’ve lowered the taxes, but he didn’t.

And now all the citizens hate him, rightfully so.

But John always had you to go back to, you to love and receive love back.

You tried to reason with John, to show him he was being unreasonable and bleeding his kingdom dry.

Yet he never listened, and he now knows the danger of not listening to the advice he gets.

You had just been going about your business, crossing through the towns when you were attacked.

What was supposed to be a simple robbery, turned to an assassination. One of Robin’s troupe mates had gone rogue; they wanted to send Prince John a message.

The message was received.

John had gotten word of what happened.

He found out about how you begged for your life.

How you cried before your body was abandoned on a wooded path.

It made him angry. It made John furious.

You didn’t deserve this. You advocated for the citizens, yet you were the one killed.

John had destroyed everything in sight upon hearing of your murder.

His guards and mother had barely been able to calm him down. But once he had come down from the rage, John broke out into sobs.

He was barely consolable, all he wanted was to fall into your arms and be comforted by you.

Just one more time, John wanted to feel you caress his scalp as you reassured your love for him.

He couldn’t believe he lost you, the only person who loved him.

In spite and pure hatred, John raised the bounty on Robin Hood and his gaggle of followers.

John wanted them alive so he could execute them on your behalf, but he’d take their dead bodies as well.

As long as they were dead, he would be content.

Robin Hood… you’ll regret this… hurting my beloved…

Santiago “Pope” Garcia - Car Accident

Santi had been through so much in life, and it made him extremely overprotective of those he loved.

He always was worried and tried to protect you.

He didn’t want to risk you getting hurt, especially in the dangerous world we live in.

So why did the world still take you from him?

Santi didn’t know how to react when he got the call from the hospital.

He initially had ignored the call, thinking it was a reminder to set up an appointment or something. But when they called again a few minutes after, the blood in his face drained.

“… died… car crash…” those were the only words his brain registered the operator saying.

His heart broke into a million pieces and he felt like he was hyperventilating.

You died..? How could you die in a crash? After everything tried to do to protect you?

The call had ended and Santi sat hunched over, crying into the palms of his hands. His breathing was erratic and uncontrollable.

If he had picked up the first time, maybe he could have made it to the hospital. Maybe he could’ve said goodbye. At least, that’s what he thought.

“I’m so sorry- oh god, no…” He murmured over and over, desperately wishing it wasn’t true.

He almost wished he was at the crash, that way he could’ve seen you one last time. But now, he’s stuck waiting for the morgue to call, waiting to confirm that it’s your body on the table.

Santi’s sobs only stopped when he passed out from exhaustion.

Why did this happen to you? Why you…

Anselm Vogelweide - Shot on Accident

Anselm was known for his erratic and random behavior. That included when he’d change his mind on a whim.

Despite his absurd actions, you cared for him, as he did you.

Anselm always kept you nearby, and everyone knew that. Even people just passing through his office knew that.

He treated you differently, he treated you better than most of his other employees.

Where he’d change his mind as he saw fit with his clients, he was very firm with his decisions regarding you.

And it didn’t go unnoticed.

So when Anselm decided to raise the price out of the blue on a client, the client was pissed.

It wasn’t unexpected that a gun was going to be pulled, but the gunshot that rang out- that was a surprise.

His men had already detained the perpetrator before Anselm realized that you’d been shot.

Your hands clutched at your bleeding heart, and your eyes quickly fell shut, your body following suit.

Disregarding his squeaking leg brace, Anselm dove to collect your body in his arms.

His eyes were wide with horror and disbelief at the sight of you dying in his arms.

The world was practically silent for him as he watched you breath your last breath.

Anselm sat there for a moment, pulling your body close to his chest in an attempt to preserve your warmth. He felt an ache in his chest when you gave no response, your body limp and spilling blood.

Anselm didn’t give himself the time to mourn or cry, instead he went cold, his heart stilling for a moment as his attention turned to the shooter.

Looking through the fogged glass lens, Anselm ordered to have your killer chained up in the basement as he carried your body to another room.

For months after your death, Anselm tortured the person who killed you.

The basement became a crime scene of horrific activities. Teeth and nail pulling, breaking bones, slicing skin, it was all incomparable to what Anselm felt the murderer deserved.

They killed his dear dove. This was the least he could do.

His disappointment was immeasurable when he found the murderer dead one morning, Anselm felt far from done torturing them.

The body was disposed of swiftly, and afterwards, Anselm visited the extravagant grave he made special for you.

It was only then, after everything, that he let himself cry over your passing.

My dove…

Llewyn Davis - Suicide

Llewyn was your friend, and the two of you always helped one another out.

He needed a couch to sleep on, you were open. You needed a drinking buddy, he was there.

You both couldn’t offer much monetarily, both just trudging through life and old habits.

But you always left the window unlocked, just for him.

Llewyn hadn’t heard from you in a while, and it had just so happened, he needed a place to stay and was in the area.

Throwing open the fire escape window, he hopped through, entering your apartment.

He called your name as he wandered around, confused where you could be so late in the day.

Yet, when he arrived at the bathroom door he paused, knocking before entering.

He instantly wished he never opened the door.

In the tub, surrounded by bloodied water, he saw you. Your face was towards the window, like you were watching the sky before you died.

The sight made him nearly hurl, but the tears made it out first.

What have you done…

Just when Llewyn thought his life couldn’t get worse, you decided to leave him just like Mike did…

Of course, he knew it wasn’t actually a choice to go against him, but it still felt like he was part of why you took your life.

And that broke his heart.

If he had just visited you or bummed at your place more often, would you still have gone through with it?

He called the police after a bit of a breakdown, and a few days later, he was alerted that your only goodbye was a note scrawled with “I’m sorry.”

Maybe the note was for him, but boy, he wished there was more.

A simple “fuck you Llewyn” would’ve been better than this…

You had always asked him to play a song, but he alway said no. He always said he was too tired, that music was his work, not something he wanted to do all the time.

You never pushed him to play for you, not like other people did. So, he never played for you.

But now, in front of your grave, Llewyn played his heart out to you. His tears bouncing off his guitar, onto the frozen ground where you’d been buried.

‘If I had wings, like Norah’s dove,

I’d fly up the river to the one I love…’

Abel Morales - Accidentally Killed During Work

Abel knew the dangers of letting his employees continue their oil deliveries and solo inspections.

So many of his employees had already been attacked, yet he still took the risk.

He just didn’t expect the attacks to get worse.

Sure, some had been threatened with a gun, hell, one was kidnapped and beaten.

But this was the first time someone actually died…

Upon hearing about your death, Abel stopped in his tracks and demanded to know what happened.

He felt like his life was falling apart the moment his wife explained what happened.

After so many troubles and hoops he’s had to go through for his company, he didn’t think he’d be losing one of his best employees as well.

You were doing a simple house call and sales pitch.

That’s all it was supposed to be.

If he had known your colleague wasn’t feeling well, he wouldn’t have sent you out to the call at all.

He never would’ve guessed you’d decide to go alone…

Abel felt guilty over your death. You died because the competition was trying to send a message, or at least that’s what he assumed.

Abel held his head high as he found out about the circumstances of your death.

Apparently, the murderers were only meant to rough you up a bit and dump you just outside city limits, in a particularly snowy area.

But as you tried to run away, one of the goons tried to shoot a warning shot to get you to stop.

The bullet hit you in the Achilles tendon.

You collapsed into the dense snow instantly, crying out in pain.

In fear of getting arrested, the shooters fled, leaving you to bleed in the snow.

You died of hypothermia. You could’ve been saved.

That’s what hurt Abel the worst.

If your killers had just tried, they could’ve brought you to the hospital. But instead, they’re now awaiting a trial and eventual imprisonment.

But because they confessed, and it was an accidental death, they would be able to have parole, they could walk free one day.

To Abel, they deserved to rot in prison forever. But he didn’t have the right to oppose the judge, not when your family had already accepted the punishment.

Abel paid for the funeral, and there he saw you for the last time.

I’m sorry this happened… I’ll take care of your family from now on. I promise…

—————————————————

Brb sobbing in the club rn…

For real though, thank you for reading!

Feel free to send over any requests/suggestions

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winniethewife · 5 months ago

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Oscar Isaac Characters as angsty Quotes/Lyrics

Steven Grant: I am not a violent dog, I don't know why I bite

Marc Spector: I am not your pet, I never liked you, I don't care about you, I won't wait for you. I bite.

Jake Lockley: I suppose if it worked, we'd be dead already

Llewyn Davis: I Know I could have Loved you (But you would not let me)

Kane: I'm well beyond you now, and travelling very fast

Leto Atreides: No good deed goes unpunished

Blue Jones: It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane.

Nathan Bateman: Genius must ever be imperfect.

Santiago Garcia: A hero of war, Is that what they see? Just medals and scars, So damn proud of me.

Abel Morales: I can pardon everybody’s mistakes except my own.

William Tell: I lost a game you couldn't even lose in.

Poe Dameron: When heroes fall from the sky, many more will learn to fly.

Rydal Keener: If you're not having me nor I you that doesn't mean I will stop loving you

Peter Roiter: I love you in every universe

Mikael Boghosion: I got soul, but I'm not a soldier

Miguel O'hara: Listen, don't meet your heroes. If you meet your heroes, you're always going to be disappointed.

Jonathan Levy: Maybe then you could've loved me like you don't know how to

Outcome 3: I could disappear forever and it wouldn’t make a difference.

Orestes: If I'm a pagan of the good times, My lover's the sunlight

Masterlist

Taglist: @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial

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jellyvibes710 · 8 months ago

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How is it April already?? My birthday is in 3 days- how?

And l'm sick 🫠

I figured for the days before my birthday l'll do an asks sort of thing? It can be about little baby blue, it can be about last hope, side projects, and about me? I suppose haha,

Little baby blue consists of 5 chapters and last hope so far has 3 l've built up.

if you want a spoiler for future parts let's go ahead and set it up as chapter # [script, meaningful character line, WIP animation draft, main focus]

If you want to get to know more about the characters and their personalities in this au put [leo, Donnie, Mikey, Raph, splinter, ect.] fun fact, fears, backstory, how certain things will effect them, or just anything you can think of haha, same thing can go for wanting to know what characters will be in both stories

Ive put a ton of thought into the stories and characteristics

There's just a lot :]

Till then, I'll be perishing

{same thing can go for the meaning behind some drawings and how it'll effect the story]

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a-really-cool-blog-name · 8 months ago

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I think we should give Rise!Casey a little brother named Angel and do something angsty with that

#Because in 2003 Casey had a little sister named angel I think that'd be fun #I personally think that all the caseys deserve a little sibling named angel and I've seen people at her or an equivalent to her in 2012 #But never in rise and I feel like that's a shame cause I think you can get some really good angst out of that make him feel hurt about her #But then again this fandom doesn't really do anything with Cassandra they all just forget about her existence and only think of JR #And Junior is great and all come on guys he's shadows equivalent he's the Casey Marie of rise NOT the Casey Jones ™#Uh I got ranty #Also give him dyed blue hair #a rare original post #I've never actually watched 03 so I don't really know her personality very well but -\_(o-o)_/-#tmnt #rottmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #Casey Jones #angel jones #I can't believe I forgot the Cassandra Jones tag #Cassandra jones

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clazaries · 4 months ago

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Anyone want to fire in some requests for a quick fic?? Im bored and need to get back in writing!!!

Moon knight boys

Miguel O’Hara

Jonathan levy

Leto Atreides

Santiago pope Garcia

Blue jones

Nathan Bateman

Poe Dameron

Please and thank you ☺️☺️☺️☺️

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captain-camille · 9 months ago

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_𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞_

‣ Jack Sparrow x f!reader

‣ As a young woman of noble blood, society is a golden cage. There is no mention of you unless the subject is marriage or manners while your trip to Port Royal has become a rescue maneuver. One faithful night aboard the Dauntless you finally snap. And meet the captive Captain Jack Sparrow...

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 18+ language, old society rules, emotional chaos, very light angst ‣ 3,4k words

Your dress weighed heavy on your shoulders, the corset strangled your lungs to a delicate point where you began to feel dizzy.

Silver cutlery laid untouched next to your empty plate. The hunger had long passed.

Either way was it impossible to properly eat with this torture device crushing your ribs. You would fetch a banana later.

“Miss Sheffield“ Lord Somerset hardly drew your attention while he adjusted his white wig “I find myself greatly invested in the many stories of your brother. They're indeed impressive, are they not?“.

It took nerves to hinder your eyes from rolling.

Instead, you gave him an appreciative but short nod. There was bitter sarcasm within the subtlety of your gesture.

Another man's head, adorned with a teal hat with feathers, turned towards you. Father.

“They are, clearly“. You verbally lend weight to your faux-assent as your father's stern gaze fixed on your face.

You suspected him pleased now.

However, his interest in you promptly vanished and a song of praise of someone else continued to fall from his pale lips.

Sweet, boisterous praise for your great brother, of course.

You were sick of it but with time had begun to see it as an opportunity to reign over your own life as freely as possible.

For as long as possible.

Every eye and word was on your brother while you, the sister of the new Governor of Nassau and member of the Privy Council, were neigh invisible.

And still you could never leave the shiny prison that was the English noble society. Like living in a nightmare that had occasional sunlight in it but was full of madness anyway.

As the men's triumphant laughter echoed across the room, you pictured how Davy Jones' Locker would be a better place to bide your time.

Or maybe you should run away and live a seamstress' life. Alternatively, a barmaid.

In the corner of your vision you saw Norrington slightly leaning over to you. The new Commodore stationed in Port Royal, as he was.

“You look fabulous tonight, Miss“ he cooed, voice low.

His blue gaze rested on the glittering necklace you wore. A collective of silver, sapphires and pearls Lord Somerset had gifted you upon boarding the Dauntless.

Or perhaps Norrington's gaze laid on your cleavage but if so, he concealed it well.

He had to. Hell would come upon him.

You flashed him a polite smile and a demure “Thank you, Commodore“ before your eyes wandered off to the sea that was painted in the colors of a tropical sunset.

The windows were small but still incapable to diminish the glimmer. It went straight to your heart...

“Since you are a young woman, too-“ the man continued, hoisting a chalice to his lips. Beneath the table, your hand balled in a fist.

It did little to soothe your nerves, though.

“-I wondered whether you would think Elizabeth liked such jewelry as, um, a wedding gift?“ his smooth voice asked but the hesitant tone betrayed him.

You had long seen it in his eyes that Norrington's desires to marry Swann's daughter weren't as honest as he tried to make it seem.

Just as Elizabeth struggled to let go of the young blacksmith Will Turner she was currently trying to rescue.

Just fellow souls lost in this noble dilemma, you almost chuckled to yourself.

Luckily, you were quick enough to bridle any inner jests and looked back in Norrington's eyes.

“I’m most certain she would be delighted. However, it occurred to me that Miss Swann prefers silver to gold.“ you advised him before he got dragged back into a naval discussion with the men.

Not even thanks were left for your input.

Once again your brother's name was thrown around like a cricket ball.

The urge to just leave this charade of a dinner grew stronger while darkness began to fall upon the majestic Dauntless.

Candle light reflected in the men’s white and grey wigs like it would in the feathers of doltish pigeons.

Nearly scoffing, the focus of your eyes blurred.

Thoughts wandered off to the small bits of information you had grasped throughout the last two days; a business trip to Port Royal had turned into quite an amusing rescue maneuver as Norrington spotted the smoke signal Elizabeth was sending from a lonely island.

She was brought onto the ship along with a mysterious pirate who turned out to be none other than the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow.

Lord, he seemed so different to the men you were used to. So interesting…

“Yn, the Lord's question was, would you be his companion on a visit to your brother?“ The raspy voice of your father suddenly cut through your thoughts like a sharp knife.

You cleared your throat, hiding a muttered “god, no“ along the cough.

No, you simply couldn’t do this any longer tonight.

Tomorrow morning the misery would begin anew and the nights were too short anyway.

Dinner was over for you, you decided and shot up, heading towards the door.

“Young Miss, where do you think you are going?“ your father called across the room, causing you to spin and face him along with everyone else seated on the grand table.

An unreadable expression settled on your face, lips moving on behalf of your temper.

“Father, I do believe you won’t miss me much while conversing solely about my brother“.

Norrington let out a shaky breath, his head turning to expect your father’s answer. Obviously, he was used to Elizabeth's docile manners.

The grey wig beneath Lord Sheffield's hat shifted slightly as he cocked his head.

He looked ridiculous.

“Then go, yn. I do not have the time nor the patience for your behavior right now“ he sighed, waving his hand in an enervated gesture of dismissal “Check on Miss Swann when you pass by“.

The stingy sensation of the corset fighting your big breaths vexed you, along with your father's aloof attitude.

Nevertheless, he granted you exactly what you wanted; to leave and mind your own business.

A business that had preferably sparsely to do with these men.

“Thank you, sir. I will“ you curled your lips, forcing a hasty smile before your knees bent in a curtsy. “Lord Somerset, thank you again for the generous gift. Commodore“.

The Lord stood up with his chest puffed, trying to address you. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Sheffield. I wish you a good-“

But the rest of his irrelevant set-phrase was cut off by the door closing behind your back. It snapped shut with a soft rock of the Dauntless.

As if she felt sorry for you.

Taking a big breath of the fresh sea breeze your tongue finally spoke some truth. “Damn you, Somerset“.

It felt good, even if it did little to improve your situation.

You knew you had to get away from the cabins or else your words of pent-up frustration would eventually find them.

Maybe you would find solace on the quarterdeck instead?

As you marched up the stairs with a grimace on your face from how impractical the heavy dress was, a young maid brushed past you with filled wineglasses on a silver tray.

She smiled with respect, but could barely hide her excited look at the luxurious necklace.

Her soft lips parted when she spoke up in awe “If I may, Baron Somerset really is doting upon you, Miss“.

At her comment, the matching earrings with the similarly cut sapphires began to itch.

“So it seems“ you answered flatly, still trying your best not to let it all out on the innocent girl.

“I happen to have overheard him talking about how beautiful your children would be“ she added with enthusiasm, unaware of your aversion to said nobleman.

You felt your gut twist and tighten at the vision alone.

Children with this man? No.

On the brink of screaming or crying, your hand flew up to grab one of the glasses.

“Did he now?“ You hoisted it and bathed your upper lip in the sweet taste of Portuguese wine “Golden me“.

Hearing her colleague call for her, the maid quickly curtsied and made her way down to the main cabin.

You sighed heavily, taking another sip.

Up on the spacious quarterdeck you wasted no time, set the glass down on a random barrel and began to take off your earrings.

They were burning on your skin now.

Anger, chagrin and despair rioted in your veins like a hurricane.

So untamed, you didn’t even notice the man at the helm observing your actions through curious eyes.

“To hell-“ you shouted, kicking your right foot so that your shoe flew overboard in a wide arc “with you, father“ the other shoe followed suit.

“And Somerset“ you tossed one earring into the black sea, holding the other one while you unhooked the expensive necklace.

You didn’t hesitate a second to proceed with this macabre yet somehow weirdly freeing act of rebellion.

With your right arm outstretched, jewelry in your hands, you stood at the ship’s railing, wind in your face.

“And to the depths with this society of hypocrites and it's stupid rules“ your now hoarse voice exclaimed bitterly before your tossing arm got stopped mid way.

What?

Twisting on your stocking feet, you ended up only inches away from Jack Sparrow’s face who was grinning at you with a pleased sparkle in his dark eyes.

You didn't dare to breathe, mouth agape.

He was still holding onto your arm even though you had lowered it in a mixture of shock and awe.

“Not good. Ye wouldn't wanna be doin' that, lassie“ the pirate purred, gold teeth adding to the captivating shine of his eyes.

Since the Navy took him prisoner, you had never spoken to him. Only eves-dropped when he had persuaded Norrington as if it was easy.

And now you could feel his breath fan across your face, the scent of the sea and rum intoxicating your brain.

Slowly, he unwrapped and lifted his fingers off your arm. One by one like a fan.

“Why not? You cannot stop me“ you eventually found your courage again and yanked your arm away.

The man scrunched his brows, lips closing. The many trinkets in his dreadlocks clinked as Sparrow cocked his head.

Your eyes were slaves to his eccentric mimic for a little while before you finally got to step back.

His presence somehow calmed you down, brought your nerves to a halt. All the way to the point where you remembered your manners.

“My apologies, Mister Sparrow. I didn’t mean to-“ you began to apologize for the snappy behavior but he interjected with a finger pointing at you.

“Never be sorry for disobeying rules that aren't worth following, luv“.

Irritated by the unexpectedly wise words, you found yourself at a loss for an answer.

This man was a real pirate after all. The closest thing to an anarchical life there was.

Your heart pumped awe through your veins that began to pacify the storm within.

Features dropping from trained, polite distance to honest distress, your gaze darted down to the jewelry in your hand. It was worth at least as much as your entire collection of summer gowns.

The blue stones seemed somewhat black tonight.

As grim as your future. With Somerset. Or any other noble, dim-witted aristocrat.

The pirate just stood and watched the tragic poem being written all over your beautiful face. His silence allowed the gears in your mind to shift.

Then, you seemed put.

“What even are you doing at the helm, Sparrow?“ You asked to avoid any potential questions when you mindlessly chucked the bundle of jewelry to him.

He grinned again as an audible clink and clatter signaled you that he had caught it.

You were sure that Sparrow had a better use for it than you did. Whatever it may be.

Admittedly, you would have just thrown it overboard or locked it away in a random jewel casket for eternity.

A husky gravel met your ears when he cleared his throat after sinking the necklace deep into the inside pocket of his brown jacket.

It was as if he knew you didn't have any expectation of thanks or desire for inquiring about your deed.

“Isla de la Muerta can only be found by those who already know where it is-“.

Slow steps of heavy boots on wooden tiles neared you from your left.

“And rumors have it me, meself and I have a heading Norrington doesn’t, savvy?“ Sparrow slurred, snapping open a compass as he leaned his back against the railing next to you.

With your eyes raking over the dusk ocean, you couldn’t help but risk a peak over to his hands.

You grimaced. The compass obviously didn’t point north.

Was he tricking the Commodore?

Suddenly, Jack chuckled, clearly having seen your expression.

“Nah... tale for another night“ he simply stated closing the small, brown box again.

His intense gaze crawled all over your side profile and pinned updo. “Tell me somethin’ about ye, Missy. Plagued by those wig-suckers, eh?“

You gave a snort of laughter, enjoying his unfiltered way of addressing the men you were used to calling 'Lord', 'Governor' or 'Commodore'.

“You know exactly who I am. Do not call me Missy“ you snapped, biting down a playful smile no one had ever elicited as easily as the foreign pirate did.

Perhaps it should worry you but it didn’t in the slightest.

Jack arched his figure to lean back more and study your edged expression from the front. You tried to shoot him an unfazed look but the pirate saw right through it and smiled widely.

How he could read you so emphatically was far beyond what you were used to from men. It confused you.

Just as it puzzled Jack that your behaviour was so devoid of any of the hospitality and judgement he had come to expect from your class.

It only drew the both of you deeper into whatever this conversation would become.

“Apologies, me bad. Miss Sheffield“ his deep voice cooed, finally cracking your surface and putting a soft blush on your cheeks.

“It never occurred to me that Pirates can be this charming“ you snickered with a hint of irony, eyes resting on Sparrow’s unique features for a moment.

His tanned skin was reflecting the flickering light of oil lamps. Sparrow was a handsome man, you realized.

Effortlessly and in tune with the ship's rocking, the man pushed off the railing to trail behind you.

“I always expected Pirates to be more- rogue, I suppose“ you mused, more to yourself.

Sparrow tsk'ed but he didn't seem hurt.

Your head cocked when you felt his hot breath close to the nape of your neck.

“A Shilling that I can alter your outlook on Pirates all by me onesies, eh?“ His comment was nonchalant and smug but in a swinging way.

This man had nerves.

“Didn't I just give you a collier worth far more than one Shilling?“ you asked rhetorically, amplifying the perky tone.

The pirate hummed, as if contemplating. “Alright, then. Consider your debt paid“.

It was utterly refreshing to converse so freely without any rules or boundaries. You grew fond of it with every passing second.

When Sparrow didn’t re-appear on your other side, you turned around to spot him chugging down the wine you had abandoned in your rage.

“Sorry, it’s no rum but-“

“-good. That’s good“ he complimented the red liquid, analyzing the ornate chalice through narrowed eyes before he sat it back down.

Carefully, with his pinky stretched out with decorum.

You caught yourself giggling but promptly covered your mouth with a palm. Habits.

“So, Miss Sheffield...“ the pirate urged you, swaggering closer until he stood by your side again. His elbows were quickly propped on the reddish railing.

“Pray tell“.

You sighed. However, the will to empty your heart was unbreakable.

It was easier when your gaze found shelter in the darkness of the Caribbean night but Sparrow’s stare lingered on you nonetheless.

“I- I feel like- No, I am trapped. Trapped in a golden cage with only dull bumbles who want to possess women of standing as if they were accessories for their prevalence-striven plans“ you began to complain, your words gaining speed and intensity throughout the sentence.

Honest pity flashed behind the pirate's charcoal outlined eyes.

The man had never thought he was capable of pitying those who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths.

And still, there he stood, stricken by the pain in your melodic voice.

You gasped for air, your mind wanting to go on but your throat began to burn on the verge of crying.

“I must behave according to the rules of society, no matter what it is I truly desire. All the poisoned praise goes to my brother while I am only of importance when the subject of my marriage is discussed“.

“Ye brother be the new Governor of Nassau?“ Sparrow eventually asked, his gaze sliding down to where your nails were nervously scratching lines into the wooden railing.

You couldn’t help but scoff in annoyance of his title. “Yes, that be him“.

The man next to you shrugged his shoulders, the trinkets and charms once again clinking. You would love to find out where he got each of them from.

“I could, in fact, sack Nassau port for ye as soon as I rip me Pearl from Barbossa’s slimy, old hands“ a tad of disgust infused his bold words at the foreign name.

“Jus' a humble offer. What ye say, lassie?“.

Sparrow was trying to cheer you up.

A small smile began to reign over your lips again, toes curling. “That would only get you killed, fierce pirate“ you noted, trying to sound as judicious and rational as possible.

Instead, he grinned even broader and spread his arms in an eccentric, self-presenting pose. “I’m Captain Jack Sparrow, luv“ he declared as if it was self-explanatory.

For the first time in a while the sea breeze caught and carried your sincere laughter.

Sparrow’s braided goatee twitched as he found himself biting his lip at the pretty sound and look.

You were a stunning woman in noble clothes with noble blood in your veins but with a spirit as wild and ravenous as his own.

You enthralled him.

“Bring this to my daughter. She shall eat, at least. The Commodore risks too much by rescuing young Turner, he cannot afford to see his fiancé unwell“ Governor Swann’s order suddenly boomed across the main deck, followed by hasty steps of a maid.

Instinctively, Sparrow snaked his hand around your shoulder, across your chest and pulled you back with him.

Out of sight.

His rough hand on your mouth muffled a shrill cry just enough.

“They thinkin’ yer asleep, eh, Miss Sheffield?“ His voice was lowered, almost just a husk and yet it was filled with this mischievous, flirtatious tone.

God, this man sent shivers down your spine like no other.

But he was still a lawless pirate.

A prisoner, even.

Suddenly, whyever, the gravity of your situation and the futility of tonight's zeal made you feel how cold and wet the floor was without shoes.

Brown dreadlocks pressed against the back of your head irrevocably disheveled your updo.

“Asleep, as I should be...“ you muttered, infused with a hint of re-surfacing anger and despair.

You wriggled yourself out of his protective grasp. The pirate's brow was raised, eyes narrowed on your face.

There was a haze of danger and waywardness about Jack Sparrow that made you question your own courage and spirit.

“Why did I even tell you all that in the first place?“ you exclaimed, hands thrown up. Slowly stepping away from him, you felt all the emotions crushing your mind.

“You most likely do not care, neither do I profit by wailing. It doesn’t bear contemplating...“.

Sparrow wrapped his right hand back around the handle of the helm, looking rather unfazed by the confusion that was spreading in your system like the Portuguese wine in his own.

Heavy silence and the occasional laughter from the men in the Captain’s cabin mingled with the soft splash of sea water.

Your feelings were now as erratic as the rhythm of the crashing waves.

“Look 'ere, luv“.

Your gaze was just about to turn from pleading to the usual bored emptiness as you saw his free hand wander down to his leather belt.

A smirk adorned his bearded face when skilled fingers rapidly detached the compass and threw it over to you.

Stumbling slightly as the ship rocked, you caught the brown box before it could hit the ground.

You heard Sparrow mutter a muted “Thank god“ that made you want to snap at him but the gesture was too interesting not to query.

Why would he think you needed a compass?

Fluster painted your features when you met his weirdly satisfied expression.

“Aren’t you Captain Jack Sparrow? Don’t you need a compass for... that?“ You asked with less challenge in your tone than initially planned.

He chuckled beautifully, shaking his head with eyes closed.

“What?“ You probed when his dark gaze began to rise up from the floor, along your figure.

“I may be without me compass but not without heading and a plan“ the pirate finally explained, taking another step closer to the helm “You, contrastingly and tragically, lack both“.

Your arms came up and crossed defensively in front of your chest.

But his words and the tight corset made you drop them again rather quickly.

He was right. You had been lamenting about your situation barely three minutes ago.

“So? What exactly is your compass going to change about that, Sparrow?“.

You peered down at the inconspicuous looking box.

“Everythin'.“ Sparrow stated with a touch of mystery. “Listen what ye heart wants and the compass is gonna give ye a heading, savvy?“.

A big part of you wanted to believe what this infuriatingly interesting man promised while another voice was whispering to you how it was literal magic he was implying.

Magic.

With a hesitant gesture of offering it back to him, you hoped to find out which voice to listen to.

“But you would want it back, right? It is yours after all“ you commented your action with genuine concern and a small smile.

Plus, the fear that Norrington would kill Jack if he couldn’t find the Isla without his compass.

Captured by the pirate for one last time, you watched his gold teeth flash in a wide grin, his tattooed hand spreading on his chest as a sign of integrity.

He was being honest, you felt it.

“I will be gettin’ it back, luv. Don't ye worry“.

Before you creeped down the stairs and eventually headed for your cabin to ponder on your heart's desires, the last you saw of Captain Jack Sparrow was a charming wink.

The last for now, at least.

♡ thank you so much for reading my very first POTC fic ever ♡

𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐲𝐨 𝐡𝐨

@mochie85 @holdmytesseract @socksracoon10 @goldencherriess @chronicallybubbly @kcd15 @always-on-hiatus

#jack sparrow x reader #captain jack sparrow #potc x reader #potc #jack sparrow fic #fanfiction #jack sparrow x y/n #pirates of the caribbean #jack sparrow #Pirates of the Caribbean fanfic #captain jack sparrow x yn #jack sparrow x f!reader #language

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mr-cha-n · 3 months ago

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The Pen Pal Project

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x reader

Genres: Fluff, fluff, and more fluff

Warnings: Profanities, sappiness, cheating (third party), a tinsy hint of angst

Word Count: 10.2k

Summary: Over a decade of handwritten letters later, you can happily say that the Pen Pal Project was your greatest success.

Reaching up into the top shelf of the wardrobe, toppling onto your tiptoes in order to do so, your fingertips brush against a satin, bowed box. Pulling the box down to your chest, you perch at the edge of your large, periwinkle-sheeted bed, gingerly untangling the pretty blue ribbon and lifting the lid off of the top. Leafing your fingers through the stacks of paper inside, you feel a wave of nostalgia enrapturing your body. Your head rolls back, eyes falling shut as your mind is overtaken by memory.

"Honey, the guests will be here soon!" Your husband yells out from down the stairs.

"I'll just be a few minutes! Can you take the cake out, my love?" You call back, praying you have the time to reminisce before everyone arrives.

You gently pull out the first letter from the top of the stack.

April 5th 2007

Dear pen pal,

I am writing to you because my class has signed up for the Pen Pal Project this year. Because I don't know who you are or anything about you, I am going to answer some of the questions my teacher has given us, and hopefully you can answer them too in your reply!

1. What is your name?

My mom said that I shouldn't give out any personal information, so I can't actually answer this question. My friends all call me Dusty, so you can call me that too.

2. What hobbies do you enjoy?

I am really into skating, starcraft, hockey and rocks. Yesterday, me and my friends went out to the outskirts of the city to see if we could climb the big oak trees, and I found a piece of dolomite next to the river! I really want to find a meteorite but they're very rare so I think it'll take a lot of searching. I also play in my school's field hockey team - my mom wants me to stop playing because last week I cracked one of my teeth, but I think she's going to come around when she sees our tournament next weekend.

3. What do you want to do when you grow up?

My dad is a teacher and my mom is a nurse, so my parents want me to go to university and become a doctor or a professor, but I'd quite like to be an astronaut or Indiana Jones, whichever pays better.

4. What's one thing you want to know about your pen pal?

I want to know everything about you (more than one, sorry)! What's your school like? What year were you born in (mine is 1995)? What do you do for fun? Do you like dogs? Do you have a phone?

I'm not sure if I'll get a response to this letter, but if you do want to, I hope we can keep in touch for a long time :)

Yours truly,

Dusty

May 21st 2007

Dear Dusty,

I'm really glad I got your letter. Some of my friends got letters that didn't even have a return address, but thankfully I get to write back to you and answer some of your questions. I was also born in 1995 so we are same-age friends. I'm finding this year in school a bit harder because of all the tests we are doing, but we just started doing football again in Physical Education so it's not too bad. Sports are my biggest hobby - I do football and basketball and I want to start wrestling this year. I mostly like to go and play with my friends at the park. I'm on some of the school teams, but my friends tell me I'm too competitive to play professionally.

I also really like gaming and reading. I finished the Protoss campaign over the winter break, but I've had to stop now that school has started again. My friends are all really excited about the announcement of Starcraft II, are you too? Will you keep going with the original or switch to the new one?

When I grow up, I either want to do sports or I'll study to work a good job in business or finance. Being an astronaut would be so cool! You'd definitely be able to find a meteorite then.

About your other questions, I don't have a phone yet but I do love dogs. When I'm older I want at least one dog, if not more. Do you have any pets?

I hope that we can keep writing to each other too - it's fun to have a secret friend.

From,

Cherry

January 4th 2011

Dear Cherry,

Sorry it's been a while - I've been really busy over the winter break, but I just had my tonsils removed so I have a bit of free time in recovery to write this letter. Before you ask, no - I didn't wake up during the surgery which I was a bit disappointed about, but I did manage to swallow enough blood to make me throw up after waking up so that was kinda crazy.

I can't believe that your friend did that! One time my friend Jiwoo got suspended for unscrewing all of the lightbulbs in the science classrooms, but that was because of a dare, not her own free will! I've never been suspended before, but I came close for tardiness last year. Have you ever been suspended?

I also appreciated your inquiry into the Heiran - Hyunki situation. I can't believe I forgot to update you in my last letter, and you'll be glad to receive it! Unbelievably, they got back together. I know it's what we feared would happen, but apparently Heiran has made some of her own mistakes in the relationship, so she's willing to overlook the whole thing. Absolutely crazy - I think that she's just scared to break up with him, which I suppose is a fair concern - just not for a 16-year-old. The whole situation really made me think about the purpose of relationships and love. All of my friends keep rushing into relationships this year, and I feel like I'm being left behind. I just don't care as much as they do, but they act like I'm some alien creature for not wanting to make out with someone in the school locker rooms. Perhaps this isn't something you can relate to, but it would be nice to know if you think I'm justified in my opinion or if there really is something wrong with me.

The thought of starting school again after the break is actually making me want to run away to the mountains. My sister is leaving for university and I don't want to go to school without her. Of course, I can't tell her that, but it's going to be really lonely walking in on my own. Plus, my parents' attention is firmly on me now, so I can't mess up in exams this year. The amount of pressure is going to make my head explode. How are you feeling about the year? I guess because you have the football season to look forward to your mind is probably focused on that?

I'm thinking about rejoining hockey this year. Even though it was too much last year, I did really miss it and I think I can better manage my time now that I don't have to be in the choir anymore. I think my mom might have a fit when I tell her, but the way you talked about sports really made me miss playing. Plus, apparently, I need an outlet for all these teenage hormonal emotions seeing as I'm not getting it on in the McDonald's parking lot.

Anyways, I need to get going now so I have time to blend some fruit up before lunchtime.

Yours truly,

Dusty

A chuckle leaves your lips as you read back over your letter. You'd been so worried about who was dating who and, more importantly, who you weren't dating. You were always so grateful for someone to discuss your fears with - your friends at the time certainly didn't understand. You'd had your first kiss a few weeks after you'd sent the letter. A party at a friend of a friend's house had devolved into typical teenage party games and you'd been pressured into kissing a boy whose name you couldn't remember. In fairness, you remembered that he was cute - curly dark hair and sharp cheekbones - but you'd made a joke about not being able to engage in tonsil tennis and he hadn't laughed so you'd known he wasn't the one.

June 27th 2011

Dear Dusty,

I finally asked out Myunghee and she said yes -

Nuh uh, skip that one.

October 23rd 2013

Dear Dusty,

All the kids in the year have planned a big Halloween party to celebrate our last your of high school. It's pretty exciting - apparently, they've bought some major decorations and they're going to set out the host's house to have scary surprises in all the rooms. I wouldn't be surprised if someone dresses up and decides to chase drunk kids around all night. It's a bittersweet feeling - our last Halloween party, but perhaps our best? Do you have any plans for Halloween and the holidays? I'm thinking of doing a Superman costume, but I'm wondering if that's a bit too obvious?

I put off writing about it first because I didn't want to open the letter with bad news, but I wanted to let you know that me and Myunghee broke up. Even though it's pretty sad, I've known it was coming for a while. If you remember my last letter, I told you about the fight that we had about next year, and I think that was really the beginning of the end. I was hoping that we could make it work a bit longer, but she said that we'd just be dragging out the inevitable and I guess she's right. I think I'm still a bit annoyed about the rollercoaster of the last month seeing if she's known the whole time that we should break up but I'll get over it. It's mostly just weird not having her around all the time. Everywhere feels a lot emptier now. I'm glad I can write to you about this - it's a bit awkward talking about it with my friends because they are also friends with her, but I can actually be honest with you.

Anyway, I hope you are doing a bit better than me. Your date sounded pretty cool - I've always wanted to go on an ice-skating date but I'd be a bit scared of falling over and making a fool of myself so I admire your confidence. If you are still seeing him, I hope he's treating you well. Chocolates and flowers at least once a month - and you can tell him I said so if he asks. If you're not seeing him, I (pre-emptively) can't believe he did that to you! What a jerk...

Are you watching the AFC Champions League final? A few friends and I are going to go down to the bar to watch it together and pray for a good result - either way, it should be fun. I suppose your dad will have it on in the house, but I'll be shocked if you tell me you're going to watch it with him after last time. Best to avoid the flying wrath of a TV remote. There's something about dads and sports, isn't there? I wonder if I'll be like that when I'm an adult. I hope not, but I already get too into it so maybe it's inevitable.

Yours,

Cherry

That date had been a good one as far as you remember, but the memory has become blurry after all the times your husband has taken you ice-skating since. You'd dated that guy for a few more weeks after this, but he made a weird comment to one of his friends when he didn't think you could hear it so you knew he wasn't the one.

Finishing high school and moving on to university had been a formative time for you. You gained a sense of identity that you'd lost as a teenager, and reconnected with your younger self. A smile crinkles your lips as you think about that time. The stupid escapades of adults let loose on their own for the first time, the lifelong friends you'd made, and the wealth of knowledge you'd gained about yourself and about the world. Your husband never attended university so he never experienced any of that, but you suppose he did have his own life-changing revelations during this time.

February 8th 2015

Dear Cherry,

I'm in crisis and I need your advice! I haven't spoken to anyone else about this yet, but I have a feeling building in me that needs to be released and you always give me the best advice. I'm thinking about dropping out of my program.

I know this sounds super rash and stupid, but I really hate it. I find it so dull and confusing, and everyone else is much better at it than I am. And, if I'm really being honest, I only chose medicine because my mother wanted me to. I would feel so stupid revealing that to anyone else, but I think you already knew that was the case. I'm struggling to keep going with it without the passion that other students seem to have, and when I hear about my friends' courses they sound so much more interesting.

If I actually go through with it, this may be the last letter I write to you. But, given that I survived my mother's wrath, a life studying literature or archaeology sounds so much more fulfilling to my brain even if not my pockets. What do you think about all of this? Is it worth following a passion that may lead to nothing or sticking it out with a stable, reliable path to future success without enjoyment?

As you know, I make very impulsive decisions, so I need your help in deciding whether or not this would be one of those.

Yours truly,

Dusty

P.S. I got asked to the dance by this really attractive guy who works at the coffee shop on campus so not everything is going wrong.

P.S.S. I found a rock which I thought was a meteorite but it was actually a magnetite - better luck next time!

You'd dropped out of your medicine major the moment you'd received the reply. Of course, your pen pal was a lot more supportive of your decision than your parents were but they got over it in time. Your fate had been decided the moment you'd stepped out of your first archaeology class - heart beaming and mind brimming with all of your plans for the future. Despite your parents' apprehensions, it had been the right decision. It didn't take long for your burning enthusiasm and insatiable appetite for learning to be picked up by your professors, and by your second year in the major you'd been invited on an exclusive trip one of your professors was going on with a handful of other students.

It was around this time that you'd started wondering more about your pen pal. The flutters of your heart each time the small envelope appeared in your dorm pigeonhole had been drowned out by the rush of university life. Reflecting back, your obliviousness to your own emotions makes you shake your head in disbelief. But then, you'd met Daejung. He'd taken you out dancing, brought you flowers and laughed at your jokes, and you began to wonder if he was the one.

May 16th 2017

Dear Dusty,

Officially, you may know me better than anyone else. I know I already sent you a letter this month that you probably haven't even received, but I realised that it is the tenth anniversary since I received your first letter. Not to be soppy, but it truly means the world to me that we've been able to keep up this correspondence this whole time.

As far as I'm aware, we won the Pen Pal Project. No one else I know stayed in touch with their childhood pen pal for nearly as long as we have, and I think that we deserve some kind of reward for it.

But, beyond any records we must have broken, I'm most grateful for the friendship we have developed. In any other circumstances, I would have said that it was impossible for people who have never met to be each other's closest confidants, but I can confidently say that there is nothing I wouldn't tell you. If it turns out you've been some 60-year-old man this whole time, consider me logged off from this life.

My wish is that we can keep doing this for as long as we are able to hold pens in our hands, and even then I'd consider getting a scribe to write the letters for me.

As a gift, I feel that it's about time that I tell you my name - my real name. If you (and your mom) still don't feel comfortable sharing yours then Dusty is still perfectly fine for me, but the fundamental disconnect between telling a person your deepest secrets and not telling them your name has gotten too overwhelming for me, so it's time to rectify that.

Yours,

Seungcheol

P.S. If you still want to call me Cherry that's also a-okay!

The first time Seungcheol revealed his name to you, you remember you'd dropped the letter in shock. As if knowing his name changed things, as if he didn't live a completely separate life from you already. It wasn't like knowing who he was would change anything about your life - you had no connection to him other than your letters - but the intimacy of his name had you staggering a few steps backwards, eye bulging from your head at the fallen letter. It seems rather overdramatic now, but in hindsight it always does.

This letter had been a bit of a turning point in your relationship, beyond the end of the nicknames you'd used for ten years. You'd always felt close enough to Seungcheol to pour your heart out to him in writing, but the closeness you felt was compounded in this letter. You wipe a few rogue tears from your eyes as you read back over it, moved by the raw declarations Seungcheol had been brave enough to express. If you really think about it, this letter was the first time you'd truly tried to picture what your pen pal looked like. Up until this point, you'd been enflamed by his words and unloaded all of your deepest thoughts to him in return, but this was the first time that you'd realised that your pen pal was a real man your age that you were already deeply connected to. The thought had been scandalous in your mind, and the shame that overwhelmed you when you'd met up with Daejung later that day made it hard to look him in the eye. Fantasising about a man you had never seen before had felt as bad as cheating, and the various forms of him that had appeared in your dreams for the rest of the week only compounded your guilt.

August 4th 2018

Dear Seungcheol,

Happy 24th Birthday! It's actually shocking to me to think that we're this old already, but I think mid-20s is a label that suits you well these days. Jokes aside, I hope you have a really lovely day doing whatever it is you have planned. I'll assume you're off bungee jumping with Jeonghan or on an all-inclusive golfing retreat until you tell me otherwise. In all cases, I hope that you are surrounded by friends and family to remind you how special you are.

Also, congratulations on your new job! I can't believe you didn't tell me that you were interviewing for it, but I suppose you didn't want to jinx anything by putting it into writing. I always thought that coaching would suit you - you could scare me into coming to practice any day! You should be really proud of yourself; I know that I am.

You'll never guess who got in contact with me this week! All out of nowhere, I got a message from Heiran of all people inviting me to her and Hyunki's wedding! I guess I was really wrong about that one... For their sake, I hope that their relationship is a bit better than it was in school. I was very surprised to be invited seeing as we haven't spoken in years, but I suppose it'll be nice to see everyone from school again. Perhaps I should tell Daejung that he can't come and you can be my plus one instead - I think you know the couple better than he does!

Another one of my friends just gave birth to a baby boy. All of this marrying and birth-giving is really screwing with my head. As far as I was aware, that's a thing that proper adults do and we're nowhere close to that yet. Even if I know that 24 is a very common age to be doing that stuff, it's still more than my brain can process. Once again, I am left behind as everyone else moves on to the next stage of life. I'm grateful, at least, that Daejung is pretty relaxed about all of that stuff. Hoping we can have a few more years before we start thinking about any of it - I still have so much travelling to do, things to see, and meals to eat before I flush all of my money down the toilet.

Jiwoo got really excited this week because she thought she saw Lee Byunghun walking past her work, so that made me feel a bit better about my life priorities.

Yours truly,

(Y/n)

P.S. I'm spending extra money to make sure this gets to you on time, so if it doesn't you cannot blame me.

P.P.S. My new address is - XXX

That year you and Daejung had finally moved in together. The apartment was small and in a less-than-nice area, but you'd been ecstatic at the chance to live with the man you loved. It had been a rough year before that - Daejung had missed out on a job offer for his dream role and you weren't able to go abroad on an excavation because he didn't want you to leave for months just as you were moving in together - but you'd seen the new apartment as symbolic of the new beginning you two would get together.

You'd also thought a lot about meeting up with Seungcheol that year. Looking back, it was crazy that you never did. Both of you expressed a will to do so, but something had always prevented you from actually doing it. You were completing your postgraduate degree part-time and working a service job that was supporting both you and Daejung at the start of the year, moving in together in the middle of the year, and Seungcheol had gotten busy with his new job in the latter half of the year. Even though you had never met up before, that you weren't able to that year was the first time it felt like a loss.

December 12th 2019

Dear (Y/n),

I've been thinking about you a lot recently. Writing to you has been the highlight of my month for a while now, and I'm so proud of you for everything you've achieved. It's amazing that you're already being asked to go on your first excursion as a proper expert, and I hope that Daejung comes around to the idea of you being away for so long. I'm sure that I'll miss your letters so I can imagine he's feeling much worse about it - but that shouldn't stop you from going. You might find an ancient vase and accidently release a curse upon the world, or discover a new dinosaur! Even if you go and are just digging up dirt with no results, I'll still be impressed.

One of the kids I mentor asked me if I knew what Starcraft was yesterday, and at that moment I really felt my age. I think it's led to some level of introspection I usually avoid, but one thing that has become clear to me is that I'm very grateful for this friendship. I hope that one day soon you can perhaps travel to Daegu and visit, or I can come see you in Seoul. Or perhaps it will take away the great fun of having a pen pal if we meet - you may be expecting someone completely opposite from me and seeing me may ruin the magic?

But the main reason I've been thinking about you is because I finally finished Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982. You were very correct in your recommendation - I can't believe it took me so long to read it! Summary of thoughts: I'm raging and also apologising to my mother and grandmother every time I see them. You have to send me another recommendation now that I'm finished - maybe some sort of mystery or thriller if you know any?

Yours,

Seungcheol

P.S. I suppose I should send you a whip and brown fedora and then you can officially say you're Indiana Jones.

January 7th 2021

Dear Seungcheol,

I'm glad you had fun on your trip! The picture you sent of the mountains was absolutely gorgeous and was a hilarious reminder that I have no idea what you look like. I keep saying I want to go to Japan but can hardly find the time, but after seeing the picture I really must go now.

I have some big news.

Daejung proposed and we're getting married!!

I know it's a bit out of the blue - I was surprised too. He's been putting off any mention of marriage for the last few months so I assumed he just wasn't interested but I guess that was all a cover to stop me from suspecting the proposal. It happened a few days after I got back from Vienna. It was really sweet - he threw this big party with all of our close friends and family to celebrate the end of my project and proposed at the end of the night. I was pretty shocked which I suppose was the point, but I'm really just excited that we're taking that step together.

My main purpose for writing is that I wanted to invite you to the wedding. It's a big step, but it wouldn't feel right to get married without one of my oldest friends there. If you decide you don't want to and you want to keep our friendship strictly on paper then I'd totally understand. But if you do want to come, we'd love to have you with us. I'll cover any travel and hotel fees if it means I can have you here.

Your continued support via letter means the world to me.

Yours truly,

(Y/n)

The wedding. Oh, the wedding.

A few nights before your wedding Daejung had come to the hotel you'd been staying in that week to finalise all of the preparations and observe some old-fashioned pre-wedding rituals your mother insisted on as if you and Daejung hadn't lived together for years before that. He'd given you a marriage gift a bit early because you were supposed to go straight to your honeymoon in Japan on the day of the wedding. Your heart fluttered in excitement as you opened the box, electrified at the surprise of what your future-husband could have gotten you to symbolise your union together. The reality had been, you could now admit, disappointing. The necklace had been pretty, and certainly not cheap. A silver heart set with a gleaming diamond to match the ring that Daejung had picked out for you. You'd smiled, thanking him for the gift and tried to ignore the discontent brewing in your own heart.

The first time you saw Seungcheol was at your wedding reception. Because of his job and the distance, he hadn't been able to make your morning ceremony, but the fact that he even chose to come all that way meant a lot to you.

"Who's the hunk with the green scarf?" One of your bridesmaids, Jiwoo had asked, pointing out a man standing alone by one of the drinks tables.

For a moment you didn't want to believe that it was him, but who else would be at your wedding that you didn't recognise? Tall and broad with fluffy hair and a handsome-beyond-belief face, Seungcheol had been a picture to witness. All dressed up in a suit, you thought he looked rather like a super spy or a CEO from one of those corny romance books. In any case, you were shocked to your core that that was the man you'd spilt your darkest secrets to for over a decade now.

"Oh, I think that might be Seungcheol," You breathed, voice wavering with uncertainty even though you were now certain it was him.

"Seungcheol - hmm, why does that name sound so familiar?" Your other bridesmaid, Mirae, pondered, her brow crinkled as she tried to identify the name in her memory.

"Oh my god, you invited your pen pal to your wedding?!" Jiwoo exclaimed, spinning on her heel to give you an incredulous look.

"Of course I did, I've known him for almost as long as I've known you!" You stuttered, your head still trying to play catch-up after the dizzying appearance of said topic of conversation.

"Why didn't you tell me that your pen pal was so hot?" Mirae scoffed, mock fanning her face in a way that made you feel shamefully irritated.

"Surprisingly, he didn't mention it in his letters." You responded, offering her a deadpan look and an eyebrow raise. She shrugged, but you'd known that wouldn't be the end of that conversation.

About 15 minutes later, you'd finally managed to make your way over to Seungcheol's perch. It was hard to decipher if your delay was because of all of the people trying to talk to you at the same time (perks of it being your wedding) or because of the unexplained fear and anxiety that was bubbling inside you at the prospect of finally meeting him face-to-face. As you finally made eye-contact, and he'd flashed his teeth at you in an infectious grin, you'd felt all of that melt away from you.

"Hi," You greeted, not able to wipe your own smile from your face.

"Hi," He responded, a peace settling between the two of you. "You look really beautiful."

Your face was all ablush and you felt a sense of dread at what would happen if you started like this. Starting down at your dress, you were unable to look back up at him.

"Thank you, I had it specially made," You smiled, your eyes gleaming as he chuckled at your joke. "I really appreciate you coming all this way, it means so much to me that you're here. Please let me know if there's anything you need - have you eaten yet? I can get you some-"

"It's okay, I'm feeling great." His hand reached out to still your own, which you hadn't realised was nervously picking at at skin around your nails.

"I can't believe that this is how we're first meeting," You breathed, a sense of shyness overwhelming you at the feeling of his skin against yours.

"If you ask me, we've definitely met before. Just not physically." His words had your head spinning so much that you were struggling to remember that you were both at your wedding.

"Poetic," You agreed, trying to present at least outwardly calmer than you felt inside.

"Oh! Before I forget, I got you this." Seungcheol extended a hand out with a small, wrapped box in his palm. "It wasn't on the registry, and really it's only for you so I thought I should give it to you personally instead of putting it on the gifts table."

"That's really generous of you, you didn't have to." You offered him a shy smile, taking the gift from him. The neatly wrapped box had been laced shut with a pretty blue ribbon, and you remember the thumping of your heart in your chest as you undid it. A small gasp involuntarily left your mouth, your hand moving to cover it in shock.

"Important backstory - I found it a few years after you told me you were looking for it. I wanted to just send it to you then, but I thought that I should keep it for when we met. I never thought that it would take so long to do so, but I hung on to it just in case."

A small chunk of dark meteorite sat in the box in your hand. Looking up and down between Seungcheol and the rock, you felt your eyes well up with tears that you had to force back down to not ruin your wedding makeup.

"Oh wow," Your voice cracked, "Seungcheol, this is seriously so sweet. I'm shocked that you kept this for me."

You felt unable to tell him all of your emotions, hoping that the gratitude in your eyes was enough to express them all to him. The sweet, adoring expression on his face told you that he understood without you needing to say any more.

That, unfortunately, had been the highlight of your wedding.

Not an hour later, it had all gone to shit, starting with a well-intentioned comment from your best friend.

"The wedding is so gorgeous (Y/n), I'll have to take notes for my own." Jiwoo gushed, pointing at all the flowers that had now been revealed as people moved into the outside area of the venue.

"I know, Daejung did a really good job picking out this place."

"I'm so happy for you two, especially after the whole Vienna situation."

A bolt of alarm rang through your bones as you a struck still by the comment. You didn't miss the panicked look Mirae sent Jiwoo, who looked equally as confused as you felt.

"What-" You tried to compose yourself amongst the rushes of fear that were threatening to render you completely useful. "What do you mean the Vienna situation?"

Jiwoo was now floundering, looking between you and Mirae with a gaping mouth.

"I just meant - I mean, nevermind - I thought... I thought you knew?" The last whispered part had your heart sinking to the bottom of your chest. Mirae was refusing to meet your gaze, and that was telling you all you needed to know.

"Did something happen when I was away?" You demanded, your voice slick with emotion.

"(Y/n)..." Mirae started, but the withering look you gave her immediately stopped her placating.

Four words later and your entire life had exploded. He cheated on you. Whilst you were away, no less. And then, as if it would magically make everything better, proposed instead of telling you.

The look on your then-husband's face when you stormed up to him demanding to know the truth was enough to convince you of the reality of your friend's words. You could now admit, amidst all of the hurt, anger and disgust you felt towards Daejung at that moment, your overriding emotion was utter panic at the thought of having to tell all of your guests that the wedding was to be stopped and annulled. A trivial emotion amongst the personal grief you were experiencing, but undoubtedly the cause of your greatest distress at the moment.

You didn't see Seungcheol as or after it all happened. Any pretence of calm instantly slipped the moment you began speaking to your family and friends - a speech which ended with you in floods of tears being escorted away from the hosts of shocked guests. It was only hours later that you realised that you hadn't said goodbye and, worse, that you'd invited him all of this way just to witness the shitshow that was your failed marriage. Too ashamed to burden him further, you chose not to write to him for months afterwards He gave you space too, and you weren't sure if you felt grateful for it or utterly alarmed that he may just never want to speak to you again.

May 6th 2021

Dear Seungcheol,

I'm deeply sorry for my complete silence, although I suppose I do not need to explain to you the reason for it. My hand has been itching to pick up my pen and write to you every month that goes by, but only now have I overcome my own shame and disgrace to do so. First of all, I have to sincerely apologise for making you waste your time coming to such an awful event. I can only hope that you managed to get a slice of cake before it all fell apart so that I could at least offer you the condolence of a delicious snack. I also must apologise for completely abandoning you during your trip to the city. I was really looking forward to showing you my favourite spots, and I let my own misery get in the way of being a good host.

I hope you are well. As I haven't heard from you in a little while, I don't know what's going on with you so I have little to comment on. But, at the very least, I wish for your good health and general happiness. If you are worried about me, you don't need to be. I have taken the last few months to put my life back together, and I feel like I'm making better progress these days - hence the letter writing. I'm thinking of getting a dog for companionship since I have vehemently sworn off men for the foreseeable future.

I also wanted you to know that I treasure your gift. As it turns out, meeting you and getting a meteorite was the best part of that night, if you'll believe it. I have it kept in a special box on my desk just to make sure that it's safe and that I'll never lose it. I wish I could have given you something in return. If we end up meeting again I'll have to start planning now to make sure my gift is just as good as yours was. Speaking of, you are welcome to come and stay with me any time you want, and we can rain-check that city tour. Alternatively, if you want to ignore this letter and never speak to me again, I'd also understand.

Yours truly,

(Y/n) 2021

May 19th 2021

Dear (Y/n),

I'm so glad to have heard from you, and that you are doing okay. As much as I appreciate all of your apologies, none of them are necessary. If anything, I feel that I should be apologising to you for leaving you in the dark for just as long as you left me - you had a much better excuse too. Although I didn't want to overwhelm you with letters after such awful news, I realise now that leaving it so long was not the right course of action.

I think getting a dog is a fantastic idea. Company is something you'll never lack with a dog around, and I can agree that dogs are much better companions than men.

As for me, I am doing well too. It's mostly just been a cycle of work and sleep, so I haven't got much to report, but I'm hoping for a more eventful summer. Visiting the city would be a wonderful way to achieve this, so perhaps closer to the time I'll write again to arrange coming to stay with you. I would love to see you again soon. My only other news that I know you'd be interested in is that Jeonghan has seemingly met someone. He's keeping all of the details close to the chest, so I'll have to update you in the next letter when I know more, but it's an exciting revelation. He seems very happy, which is all I can hope for.

When I told you that I wouldn't stop writing to you until I could no longer hold a pen in my hand, I meant it. I hope that you will never again think that I wouldn't want to speak to you -it's the highlight of my day.

Yours,

Seungcheol

P.S. I'm sure you don't want to talk about the wedding, but just so you know - he was a fucking fool to let you go.

You remember the relief you'd felt at getting that letter. The uncertainty of whether or not Seungcheol still wanted to talk to you was enough to keep you on edge for the entire 13 days that it took for you to get his response. But, as always, your friend was reliably there for you.

The time you'd taken over those last new months, and the few months afterwards had been tumultuous, but cleansing. In your post-marriage clarity, you'd realised all of the opportunities you'd missed because of Daejung. Deciding that you wouldn't let him take anything else from you, you'd arranged to go on a long excursion you'd waved off for wedding planning when you'd first heard about it. Learning about the project from one of your old professors who'd transferred to Cairo University, you were offered a position on the ongoing expedition in Saqqara. Although Egyptology was not your speciality, your master's dissertation on the mummified scarab beetles found at Saqqara in 2018 and your tutor's reference got you onto a low-level position on the expedition.

Six months in Egypt had been exactly what you needed to move on from Daejung. At that time, your relationship with your closest friends was also on the rocks, and it was really only Seungcheol and your family that you missed during your time abroad.

December 23rd 2021

Dear Seungcheol,

I've finally got some time off over the holiday break, and I'm ready to give you the download of everything that's happening here in Saqqara! But, first, I'm going to have to beg you for the details of your double date with Jeonghan and Jooyeon. How was it!? Was Jooyeon's friend nice? Were there sparks? How many times did Jeonghan bring up embarrassing stories about you as a kid?

I hope it went well - you deserve all of the happiness in the world.

Now, onto the important stuff!

I'm not sure if you saw on the news, but we've made some pretty huge finds since I got here, Obviously, I can't give myself all the credit, but just being part of the team that made it happen is pretty incredible. We've found multiple tombs of dignitaries from the reign of Ramses II. I'm doing a bit of research on one of the tombs, belonging to a military leader called Hor Mohib, but I have to keep taking breaks every 20 minutes to pinch my arm and remind myself that this is reality.

My Arabic has gotten significantly better now - I was rather rusty when I first got here. I'm able to have reasonably complex conversations with the Egyptian members of the team and the locals helping out, and it's pretty cool for my nerd brain to be surrounded by a group of people equally as excited to be digging up ornamental graves as I am.

I'm really glad I came. It's hard to admit, even to you, but my life really fell apart after the wedding. Honestly, I didn't even know if I wanted to keep working in archaeology or if I wanted to jet off to Iceland and buy a farm. And the worst bit is that it's been so lonely since. Losing Daejung was one thing, but I haven't spoken to Jiwoo or Mirae since. I can't bear to look at them knowing that they hid that secret from me for so long. Maybe one day I'll be able to forgive them, but it certainly won't be now. Your letters have been my only sanctuary of human connection in these past few months, and that's something I'll have to add to my list of neverending gratitude I hold for you.

I realize now that I haven’t been very good at expressing how much your friendship means to me, how it's been my lifeline in this mess. Your letters are the only constant, the only thing that feels like home even when I am surrounded by ancient wonders and new colleagues.

And so, I have a confession. I want to see you again. I want to tell you all of this in person. I can't say what will come of it, but I know that after all of these years, after all the letters and confessions and secrets shared, we owe it to ourselves to meet in a way that isn't rushed or overshadowed by anything else.

Maybe we could meet halfway between Seoul and Daegu, or I could take the train down to visit you? I need to see you again, not as a guest at my ruined wedding, but as Seungcheol, the one person who’s known me at my best and worst, and still chooses to write back.

Let me know what you think.

Yours truly,

(Y/n)

P.S. I've included a small rock I found on the dig - nothing special but it reminded me of our old conversations. I hope it makes you smile.

P.P.S. Please don't feel pressured to say yes, but know that I would really like to see you again.

You can't quite recall what possessed you to write such a bold letter. Perhaps it had been the desert sun, the thrill of discovering something new in something old at Saqqara, or simply your immense loneliness.

Days had turned into weeks as you anxiously waited for a response, checking your makeshift mailbox daily. Then one morning, there it was—a simple white envelope with Seungcheol’s familiar sloping handwriting.

January 17th 2022

My Dear (Y/n),

I've thought about meeting you countless times since our first encounter. After reading your words, I realise that I've been waiting for this just as much as you have. How's this - I'll take the first train up to Seoul when you're back and we can spend the day together. No distractions, no interruptions - just you and me, finally getting to know each other beyond the pages of our letters.

I'm looking forward to me, more than I can express. Until I see you again, take care, and know that I'm counting down the days.

All yours,

Seungcheol

P.S. the best bit about the date was spending time with Jeonghan. No more needs to be said.

You stare down at the letter, your heart pacing as fast as it had the first time you'd received it. Beautiful words from a beautiful man with a beautiful soul.

You'd gotten back to Seoul by the end of March 2022, and, as promised, Seungcheol came to visit you that first weekend in April. When he'd stepped off the train in the bustling station at the heart of the city, you were there to greet him. You'd spotted him standing there, taller even than you'd remembered, with that same easy smile that had always leapt off of the page.

The world around you had seemed to blur as you walked toward each other, nerves fluttering in your stomach but quickly dissolving as he pulled you into a gentle, lingering hug. The connection between you, once confined to words on paper, felt more real than ever.

You spent the day wandering through the city, visiting old bookstores, sipping coffee in quiet cafes, and talking as if no time had passed since that fateful wedding reception. Every shared laugh, every story swapped, deepened the bond you'd forged in ink.

June 14th 2022

Seungcheol,

It feels like only yesterday that we were wandering through Seoul together, but at the same time, it feels like a lifetime ago. I keep finding myself replaying that day in my mind - how easy it was to talk to you in person, as if we'd done it a hundred times before. It's strange, isn't it? How someone can feel so familiar, even when they're a whole new experience at the same time.

I've been thinking about our conversation in the bookstore. You said something about how some stories are better left unfinished, that sometimes the best part of a tale is imagining what could be. I can't stop thinking about that - about how some stories do need an ending, and how others are meant to keep going, even if we don’t know where they’ll lead.

There's something I've been meaning to tell you, but I haven't found the right words yet. I guess I'm still figuring it out myself. It's just that being around you feels different to how I expected. There's a comfort, yes, but also something more, something I can't quite define. It's like we're on the edge of something new, and it's exciting and a little terrifying at the same time. I'm not sure if you feel it too, but I hop you do.

Anyway, I don't want to get too ahead of myself as usual. I'm just really glad we've reconnected, and that we've managed to keep in touch after all these years.

It means more to me than I can say. Let’s make sure our next meeting isn’t too far off—I’m already looking forward to it.

Until then, take care of yourself, and don’t work too hard. I’ll be watching the clock until I see you again.

Yours,

(Y/n)

That day in April 2022 hadn't been the last time you saw Seungcheol. You'd made that mistake once in the past, and neither of you was willing to do so again. He continued to come to Seoul to see you, and you travelled down to Daegu to meet him and his friends. Your letters ceased for a while over this time due to the frequency you were seeing each other, but for the first time that didn't bother you.

You remember, with teary eyes, the day that you finally confessed your feelings.

It was 25th September 2022, after a whole summer spent together, and the air was tinged with the first hint of autumn's chill. THe leaves were just beginning to turn, painting the streets in warm hues of amber and crimson as you walked side by side in a quiet part in Seoul. The easy laughter and conversation that had marked your friendship over the years felt heavier that day, as it something unspoken was lingering in the crisp air between you.

You had spent countless days together that summer - visiting museums, trying new restaurants, even embarking on a spontaneous week trip to the coast. Each moment with Seunngchaeol had felt like a dream, a slow realisation that your heart was no longer just content with friendship. But with that realization came a fear you hadn't expected. What if this was enough for him? What if risking everything by confessing how you truly felt would unravel the beautiful bond you had spent so many years cultivating?

That evening, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the park, you found yourselves sitting on a bench overlooking a small pond. The water was still, reflecting the fiery colours of the sky, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. Seungcheol had been quieter than usual that day, his expression pensive as if he, too, was wrestling with unspoken thoughts.

You felt your heart pound in your chest, each beat louder than the last as you tried to summon the courage to speak. The words were caught in your throat, but the fear of losing him if you didn’t say them was stronger. Finally, unable to hold it in any longer, you turned to him, your voice trembling as you broke the silence.

"Seungcheol," you began, your hands nervously fidgeting in your lap. He turned to look at you, his eyes soft and attentive, encouraging you to continue. "There’s something I need to tell you… something I’ve been feeling for a while now."

His gaze didn’t waver, but you noticed the slight hitch in his breath, the way his fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the bench. The world seemed to shrink to just the two of you, everything else fading away as you gathered your thoughts.

"I—" You paused, trying to find the right words, but there were none that seemed adequate to express the depth of your feelings. "I think I’ve fallen in love with you."

The admission hung in the air between you, a fragile confession that you could no longer take back. For a moment, time seemed to stop, the world holding its breath as you waited for his response. You searched his face for any sign of what he might be thinking, every second feeling like an eternity.

Then, without a word, Seungcheol reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had escaped down your cheek. There was a tenderness in his touch, a warmth that radiated through you, calming your racing heart.

"I’ve been waiting to hear those words," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Because I’ve been feeling the same way for a long time too."

His words washed over you, a wave of relief and joy so overwhelming that you felt your breath hitch. You had been so afraid, so uncertain, and now, with his quiet confession, all those fears melted away. He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull back if you needed to, but you didn’t. You closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a gentle, tender kiss that felt like a promise—one of many yet to come.

Hearing the doorbell ring down below you, and the sound of your husband's voice calling out to say he'll get it, you rush forward to reach your favourite letter - just one more before you return to reality.

November 3rd 2023

My dearest (Y/n),

I'm so glad you're having such a good time in Rome - I'm rather jealous of all of your sightseeing and pasta-eating. Kkuma and I are holding the fort down at home, although I had to be scolded yesterday for breaking the toaster when I tried to make Kkuma some breakfast. I sent some more suncream over in the mail because I know you've already run out and forgotten to get some more - I'm not sure if this letter will reach you first, but if it does look out for the parcel.

Now, I'll admit, the main purpose of my letter is something a little different than simply catching up, as much as I love those letters too. I thought about doing this once you returned home, but you've already had one man declare his everlasting intentions to you after you returned from an excursion, so I thought it better to avoid rehashing those memories (we'll do this again when you're home, but I thought it might be fun to do it this way).

If you have the suncream box already, then you may have a sneaking suspicion of what I'm about to say.

I've loved you for as long as I've known you. As a twelve-year-old kid, I didn't know that was what it was, but the level of obsession I had with writing to you and receiving your replies was beyond any normal friendship. You were always so fascinatingly cool, out of reach, and genuinely yourself. Being in love with your pen pal isn't always an easy thing - the cold sweats I would wake up to after dreaming about meeting for the first time, the constant updates about a life that I wasn't a part of, the announcement of your engagement to another person. I tried to pretend it wasn't real for a long time, see other people, because of how silly I felt about being in love with someone I'd never met.

And then I saw you standing there, in that beautiful white gown with your hair up and that gorgeous smile on your face. Did you know that my hands were sweating when I gave you that gift? I don't think I've ever told you that before. I became certain then that I was completely screwed. Entirely head over heels.

I'll never be happy that that marriage didn't work out for you - all I've ever wanted is your happiness, be that with me or someone else. But I won't lie and say that nothing has made me happier than the consequences of it.

This past year has been the happiest time I've ever known. Every moment with you is filled with such joy, and every moment without I'm left with a record of memories to remind me of the time we've had together. When I look at you, I don't just see my past, but also my future. I see a lifetime of shared experiences, of laughter, or quiet moments that mean more than words ever could. I see us growing old together, supporting each other, and playing trash hockey on the wooden floor of our kitchen.

You are my best friend, my partner, the love of my life. And I want to spent every day making sure you know just how much you mean to me.

So, that being said, will you (Y/n) (Y/l/n), do me the honour of marrying me?

All yours,

Seungcheol

P.S. Please don't feel pressured to say yes, but know that I would really like it if you did.

You fiddle with the precious ring on your left hand, your fingers lingering over the smooth chunk of dark stone in the centre.

A gentle brush of a hand on your shoulders brings you back to the real world, tears now flaking on your cheeks as you sniffle at the words on the page.

"Are you okay, darling?" Seungcheol asks gently.

"Yes, sorry, I know the guests are here now - I just wanted to look at these," You reply, holding up the letters for your husband to see.

You watch his expression soften, a suggestion of moisture in the corner of his eyes as he looks over the written words.

Swooping down, he places a long, loving kiss on your forehead, letting your bodies rest together in harmony for a moment.

"I can't believe they still make me cry," You huff, letting out a soft laugh. "And I don't even think I can brush it off as hormones."

"Seeing that just looking at them has me tearing up, I don't think I can either." Seungcheol smiles, stroking the back of your hair affectionately.

"They're probably getting antsy downstairs, right?" You say, beginning to pile the letters back up into the box.

Standing up, you lean forward to press all of your passion and adoration onto your husband's lips. You can feel his intensity matching yours, his hands finding the side of your hips to keep you stable.

"They can wait," Seungcheol replies, his forehead leaning softly against your own. "They're not the ones who are pregnant after all."

You laugh, a sound filled with both joy and contentment, feeling the warmth of his love surrounding you. "I suppose you're right," you say, a smile spreading across your face. You take one last glance at the box of letters, a testament to the incredible journey you've both shared—one that began with innocent childhood exchanges and blossomed into a love story more profound than you could have ever imagined.

Hand in hand, you and Seungcheol make your way downstairs to greet your guests, the letters safely tucked away in their satin box. As you step into the room, you know that no matter what the future holds, you'll always have those words, those memories, and most importantly, each other.

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arcane-vagabond · 1 month ago

Text

Fool's Fare: Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Content Warning: Flashback Chapter, Cursing, I played around with mythology in this one, Myths, Curses, Magic, Deals, Mentions of death, Mentions of suicide, Smoking pipes (Tobacco), Regret, Angst, some fluff. I think that's everything, but please let me know if I've missed something!

Word Count: 4.6k

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

Smoke wafted towards the ceiling, disappearing into the air before the soft tendrils could reach the wooden rafters. The glow of the embers illuminated Tom’s face as he sucked the tobacco smoke into his lungs, the burn a familiar comfort to him after so many years. Blue eyes scanned the crowded room, men gulping down mouthfuls of ale as women sauntered around the room looking for their bed fellow of the night. Laughter broke out on the far side of the room, cheers following it as the last hand of cards was revealed.

These too were familiar to him.

“Don’t suppose the information we were given was wrong,” Beau muttered beside him. Tom’s eyes drifted over to him, studying the quartermaster. Tom wasn’t sure he altogether liked Beau very much, but he trusted the man, and in this life, trust was worth its weight in gold. While Tom knew the quartermaster was loyal, he also knew that Beau’s interest aligned with his own.

“He’ll be here,” he replied, shifting in his chair to lean back, feet propping up on the table. A pretty, young woman strolled casually over to him, fixing him with a sultry gaze and a confident smile. Tom waved her off, earning a pout, but he paid her no mind. He was on a mission tonight, waiting for a man he knew would show his face sooner rather than later.

Pete Mitchell was a right bastard as far as Tom was concerned—the newly appointed captain of the Maverick had earned himself quite the reputation even before earning the mantle from his predecessor.

Tales of the new captain capturing and sinking enemy ships had made their way to every port along the coasts, whispers twisting tales until no one knew what was true and what was falsehood. What had remained consistent, however, was the fact that the young captain had been going around boasting about how no man could best him, not even Davy Jones himself.

Tom wouldn’t stand for that.

The door to the pub opened with a sharp crack to the wall behind it, a smirking young man with fine features, dark hair, and blazing, blue eyes roving over the scene before him.

“That’s him,” Beau whispered, and Tom let out a low grunt in acknowledgement, watching the young man strut into the room like he owned the place. Tom’s jaw tightened as he gritted his teeth, feeling his own irritation rolling off of him in waves. The lad seemed to sense him because his gaze turned to fix on the older man, a brow arching curiously. Slowly, Pete walked over to him, confidence shining from every pore as a lazy smirk curled on his lips. He didn’t wait to be invited to sit, he simply did—the chair knocking against the stone floor as he plopped down in the seat. The man who followed him, much taller than the captain and mustache adorning his upper lip, peered around anxiously before fixing his eyes on Tom and Beau. Tom surmised that he must be Pete’s quartermaster, Nick Bradshaw.

Tom turned his attention back to Pete as the younger man’s smirk became a full-blown grin.

“Evenin’, pops,” he greeted, nodding at him from across the table. Tom felt the vein in his forehead pulse with irritation, leaning back in his chair with a creak and another drag from his pipe. Tom studied the young man before him, noting how at ease he seemed to be despite the dangerous aura that rolled off of Tom in waves. Men twice this boy’s age cowered in his presence, and yet here he was—grinning like a cheshire cat.

It pissed him off.

“You know,” Pete drawled, leaning back to mirror the older captain, “it’s considered polite to answer back.”

Tom snorted, bringing the pipe away from his mouth and staring down the young captain.

“Pleasantries fly out the window once I hear of some upstart going around boasting about how none can best him—even Davy Jones himself.”

“I haven’t even seen you on the seas, old timer,” Pete grinned. “You think I’d beat you like all the others?”

“I think I’d sink your ship in ten seconds flat without even raising my voice,” Tom spat, earning a wary side-eye from his quartermaster.

“Tom here doesn’t exactly appreciate people invoking his name needlessly,” Beau supplied, shifting in his seat as waves of anger rolled off the captain. “Especially when it’s spoken in boast of oneself.”

Pete’s brow arched as his quartermaster’s brow furrowed.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Nick spoke, leaning forward to look over his own captain’s shoulder. “We don’t even know your name.”

Tom hummed, tapping his fingers on the top of the table. “I think you do.”

A moment of silence passed between the four men, the rowdy crowd around them continuing on in their revelry as if nothing were amiss. It was Pete who broke the silence first.

“You’re supposed to be a myth,” he murmured, all trace of mirth gone from his face. “A legend.”

“Any sailor worth his salt knows not to invoke names of power,” Tom retorted. “Names themselves have power. You shouldn’t speak the name of anything whose wrath you don’t want to earn.”

“And is that what I’ve done?” Challenged Pete, squaring his shoulders as Nick gave him an exasperated look. “Have I incurred the wrath of Davy Jones?”

Tom considered him for a moment. The gall of this man was something Tom hadn’t seen in decades, and he found that he quite liked the challenge the young captain was issuing him. He tried to remember the last time someone had done so so openly and brazenly.

“You’ve certainly incurred the annoyance of Tom,” he replied finally, not missing the sharp look Beau shot his way. Pete frowned in confusion.

“Tom?”

“That’s my name,” he replied with a shrug, inhaling from his pipe as he watched the younger man process his words.

“I thought you were Davy Jones?” Pete asked finally, lips pursed as his guard was up.

“Davy Jones is more of a��moniker,” Tom supplied, closing his eyes as he basked in the warmth of the tobacco in his lungs. “Has a better ring to it than Thomas, wouldn’t you say?”

The young captain stared at him in disbelief before letting out a humorless chuckle.

“You aren’t at all what I was expecting,” Pete mused, and Tom snorted.

“You weren’t expecting much,” he countered. “You didn’t even think I was real until a few moments ago.”

The two men talked well into the night, and Tom had grown a sort of strange fondness for the plucky captain. You’d never get him to admit that he felt somewhat impressed by the stories Pete told him of the several ships he had managed to capture, but he was sure Pete caught the way his eyes alighted with intrigue. As dawn broke above the horizon, the sky painted in a hushed blue and warm pink, the captains bid farewell to each other, Tom warning the young captain one more time to not invoke his name lest there be consequences.

Years passed, and in that time, Tom and his crew had taken many treasures from doomed ships, the begging of crews falling on deaf ears. The captain of the Flying Dutchman having long lost feeling in his heart for the plight of others. No, in this world there was only take, his endless life proof of that.

His crew was not dead, not in any way that may truly matter. Rather, they sat in limbo thanks to a god long thought dead—a goddess that Tom had betrayed.

Thetis had been beautiful, strong, and perhaps the most coveted woman in antiquity at one time. Tom, who had gone by a name he had long forgotten at that time, had wooed the goddess, and perhaps at one time he would have said he even loved her. Together, they had seven sons, but only one would grow to be a man, the others lost to mortality. Thetis had been driven mad with grief, and Tom had closed himself off completely.

Perhaps it was a mixture of pride and the folly of his youth that had led him to betray her. The now faded memories of sailing with a band of his brothers had filled his mind then, and Tom had decidedly wanted more. He knew his wife held great magic in her hands, and he had begged her to use it to secure him power over the seas. Of course, she had been reluctant at first, warning him of the dangers that came from such a request, but Tom had been insistent. The first moment he held the star in his hand, he knew he had doomed himself.

He had left shortly after, leaving his wife heartbroken and his son in the care of a trusted friend. His wife had bestowed power to him, and Tom was ever the fool to think that it had been anything other than her final act of revenge.

He and his crew were doomed to limbo, to wander the seas forever craving more from those who were unfortunate to cross their paths. Time passed around them, and it wasn’t long until Tom learned of his son’s tragic fate, mourning him as best he could despite the never-ending greed that gripped his heart. Time marched forever forward, and soon Tom took on new name after new name until one day he realized he had no memory of who he once was.

The star had been lost to him, having lost it in a gamble or having misplaced it at some point—he wasn’t sure. He wanted it back though, but no matter how hard he tried, the star remained lost to him. The magic cursed to him by his estranged wife, however, made him slave to the whims of the ocean, his name crossing into legend then myth. He took up the moniker of Davy Jones, a name that now struck fear into the heart of every sailor that sailed the seven seas.

All except one.

It was a dreary day when Tom felt the call. Mist clung to his skin as the ship moved forward in the dark waves, an eery silence surrounding him when he felt the call of his name.

It had taken a while for him to notice the first time it happened. His name a beacon on the waves for those sentenced to death on the ocean’s surface. But, soon he realized the call that stirred deep within him. Where the call came, treasure awaited.

Tom signaled to the helmsman to change course, the ship creaking in protest against the crashing waves. Still, the ship spurred on at an unnatural pace, and it wasn’t long before Tom realized he had been summoned to the shore off of southern Massachusetts. He frowned at the location, choosing to go ashore himself and leave his crew behind until he could determine what was happening.

Tom secured the lifeboat up onto the shore, confident that it was far enough inland that the tide wouldn’t pull it back out should he take long. The sand shifted beneath his feet as he walked along the shore, the summons guiding him to where he needed to go. The sun was drifting towards the skyline, the sparse clouds above streaming past up above as his eyes scanned the beach for what he was looking for. It wasn’t long before he came upon a familiar figure sitting amongst the rocks.

Pete was older than Tom had last seen him, only three years having passed since the last time they had seen each other—ten since the first time they had met. Strands of grey started to spot against Pete’s temples, lines littering his face to give him a more distinguished look. He looked up as Tom approached, smiling in way of greeting as the old, sea captain came to a stop beside him, dropping down next to him with a grunt. Tom pulled out his pipe, striking a match and puffing on the old, wooden piece as he let out a sigh.

“Been a while since I seen you,” he offered up after a moment’s silence. Pete nodded with a hum, turning his attention back to the sea.

“It has,” Pete agreed.

“Didn’t exactly part on the best of terms last time,” Tom continued.

“No,” Pete acquiesced. “We didn’t.”

“I don’t have the power to bring the dead back, Pete,” the older man reminded him. “The magic doesn’t work that way.”

“So you said,” Pete muttered, and Tom let out another sigh.

“I’d bring Nick back if I could,” he frowned, shoulders stiff. “You know that.”

Nick’s death had been a terrible accident—a stray bullet lodging into his heart during the heat of battle. Pete had taken it hard, locking himself away to mourn the loss of his most trusted friend. Nick had been a good man, though he had his secrets. Pete had mentioned that Nick had a wife and child tucked somewhere secret that he’d visit from time to time. Not even Pete knew where Nick would run off to during those times.

“I do,” Pete agreed. The two sat in silence for a few moments more before Tom rolled his shoulders, inhaling the tobacco smoke once more.

“So why’ve you brought me out here, then?” Tom prodded.

“Do you remember that girl I told you about?”

Tom paused. He did remember Pete mentioning a girl he’d been spending time with. “Penny, right?” He asked.

Pete nodded, a small smile creeping on his face at the mention of her name. Tom vaguely recalled seeing the girl on one of his last visits with Pete, a pretty thing with a fire that matched the young captain’s. Tom was surprised that she had managed to stick around.

“What about her?” Tom asked, peering over at the other captain.

“We’re married now.”

Tom started at that. He wasn’t sure he’d ever peg Pete as the marrying type, but he supposed he wasn’t one to talk.

“Married,” he echoed with a low hum.

“Two years now. Three in April,” Pete grinned.

“You called me out here to tell me that you’re married?” Tom snorted, the embers of his pipe glowing in the fading light as he inhaled once more.

“Actually,” Pete started, “I’m here to ask a favor.”

“A favor,” Tom echoed once more, this time with a frown. Pete knew there was a price to Tom’s favors—it was the way the magic worked.

“Penny and I have been trying for a family,” Pete explained, “but we haven’t had any luck. I see the way she tries to seem like it doesn’t bother her, but I also see the way she looks after the kids in the village. I want to give her everything I can, Tom. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t try everything?”

“You know there’ll be a price,” Tom warned him, casting a look his way. “There’s always a price to pay for these things.”

“Whatever it is,” Pete murmured, “I’ll pay it.”

“Why?” Tom retorted. “Why would you even risk it?”

Pete smiled at him, a soft look in his ocean blue eyes. “I love her, Tom.”

“Love is for fools,” Tom scoffed.

“Love is the price we pay to feel something in this world, Tom,” Maverick said, looking at his friend knowingly. Tom snorted, shaking his head.

“Fool’s fare then,” Tom relented. Pete’s head tilted back as he laughed.

“Call it what you like,” he chortled, “but the facts remain. Now are you going to help me or not?”

Tom considered him for a moment. What Pete was asking was no small task, but perhaps…

“Tell me,” he spoke. “What do you picture your life being?”

Pete thought for a moment.

“Penny wants a child regardless, but I think I want a son that I can pass my legacy onto. A son to teach the ways of sailing and ride on the waves together,” he paused. “Yes, a son.”

Tom hummed with a nod. He could work with that. He could manipulate the magic in that one, small way.

“The price for a life is a life in return,” he warned. “To gain your son, you forfeit your life after seven years.”

Pete hummed, rubbing at his chin as he considered the price. Tom waited, wondering if his friend would forfeit his own life to make this woman happy. Pete wasn’t a particularly selfish man, but he had a zest for life that was rare in Tom’s experience. People like Pete lived for the love of life, and the thought of willingly forfeiting that should seem like an impossible decision to the young captain.

“I’ll do it.”

Tom blinked, momentarily letting his mask of impassiveness slip to show his surprise at Pete’s decision. He recovered quickly, clearing his throat as he shifted.

“Alright,” he conceded. “If you’re sure about this.”

Pete nodded. “I am.”

Tom felt the magic swirl within him, building as he readied to make the deal. Slowly, he extended his hand, settling on the wording of the spell.

“To gain a child,” he said slowly, “you forfeit your life.”

Pete nodded, grasping his outstretched hand. “I get my son, Penny get’s a child, and you gain a soul.”

Tom frowned. Magic was specific, it was precise. He wasn’t sure if Pete’s added words would affect the spell, but he was sure that he had enough control to alter that one piece.

The magic settled around them, a low hum that rang in Tom’s ears as he let go of Pete’s hand. He took a long drag from his pipe, holding the burning smoke in his lungs before blowing out long and slow.

“So, tell me,” Pete grinned. “What treasures have you found since I last saw you?”

Years passed, and Tom’s plan worked. Soon after his deal with Pete, he received the news that his friend would become a father, and nine months later he received word that Pete’s daughter had been born, a healthy, happy child according to Pete. It was a couple of years later when he first met the little girl.

Tom had never seen his friend look so happy, smiling and bouncing the toddler on his hips as he cooed at her, earning small giggles that made the young captain grin even wider.

“She may not be my son,” Pete told him, holding the little girl close as she dozed off against his shoulder, tiny thumb popped into her mouth, “but she’s my little guppy.”

Tom would have gagged if it weren’t so sweet. He thought back to his long dead son, how small the boy had been in his own arms, and warmth stirred in his chest.

“I’m happy it worked out,” he replied.

“I know you finagled the magic,” Pete told him. “No son means no forfeiture of my life, right?”

“That’s the idea,” Tom admitted. “You’ll live a long, happy life with your family.”

It was two years later that Pete brought a young boy named Bradley into his home, dubbing the boy Rooster.

“He reminds me of Nick,” Pete told Tom one day. “Looks just like him. So much so, that sometimes I wonder if Bradley really is-”

“Don’t,” Tom interrupted, placing a hand on Pete’s shoulder. “Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t torture yourself with possibilities. Just focus on what you have now.”

Pete had smiled and nodded, content with the old captain’s words. Several more years passed, and the two children grew up as Pete grew older. Six years after Pete Mitchell had brought the boy into his home, he sealed his fate.

“Bradley’s grown strong,” he told Tom, pride evident in his voice. “He’s almost ready to take his first job. And, Guppy’s growing up so fast. She takes after her mother, I think.”

Tom snorted, but didn’t voice his opinion that Guppy took after her father rather than her mother—her stubbornness and talent for mischief qualities she inherited directly from the man who sat next to him.

“A son and a daughter,” Pete sighed. “I couldn’t be more proud to have them.”

It was like time stopped moving for a moment, magic stirred in the air like waves against rocks in the surf, crashing into Tom so hard, it knocked the air from his lungs. He started at Pete in horror, terror coursing through his veins for the first time in eons.

“What did you say?” His voice sounded small, even to his ears. “Do you know what you’ve just done?”

“I do,” Pete nodded, unfazed by the magic that now counted down the moments he had left to walk the earth. “And I’ll say it again. Bradley is my son, Tom. I won’t deny him that part in my life to save myself time.”

Tom continued to stare at him. Had he misjudged his friend so badly as to think that this boy would not hold such a place in his heart? Pete was different from the young man he had met over two decades before. Where he had been an inferno in his youth, scorching anyone or anything that got in his way, now he was the steady fire found in the hearth—a beacon to those around him.

“Seven years,” Tom murmured, hanging his head. “You have seven years.”

“Don’t feel bad, Tom,” Pete said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You did for me what you could, and you didn’t have to do that much. You allowed me more years with my family than our deal allowed, and for that I’m grateful. More than you can imagine.”

Tom shook his head, letting out a growl of frustration at his friend’s apparent lack of self preservation. Pete shot him a sympathetic smile.

“Guess the magic got its way in the end, huh?” Pete chuckled, though there was no humor in his tone.

Tom said nothing, and the two sat in silence long after the sun had dipped below the horizon.

Tom ran into Pete several times during those years, either on the sea during their adventures, or when he’d pop into the local tavern. During that time, Tom himself had fallen in love for the first time in ages. She was a pretty, young thing with chestnut waves that rolled down her back and eyes to match. Laughter that filled Tom’s heart with a mixture of warmth and longing, and how he wished she’d pay him more mind.

Kate was her name, and Tom was in love. He watched from afar as she chased after some local boy. Tom wished it was him that she yearned for, but he would love her from afar.

No good would come from entangling himself in her life.

He watched after her for years, content to be her silent protector. In between his moments of quiet pining for her, he’d visit Pete, cognizant of the fact that his friend’s time was quickly running out.

“Have you told them?” He asked one day, Pete looking up from the map he had been studying. Pete grimaced, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

“No,” he admitted. “I don’t want them to lose sleep over the inevitable. When I go, it will be a sudden, tragic accident. They’ll grieve, but they won’t torture themselves with the notion that they could have done anything to prevent it.”

Tom nodded, fidgeting with his pipe as a moment passed.

“I think I know what you meant about love now,” he admitted. Pete’s brow arched, the twinge of a smile evident on his lips.

“Don’t give me that look,” Tom groused, scowling at the younger man. “I’m only telling you because you’ll be dead soon enough, anyway.”

Pete threw his head back in laughter, Tom slowly joining in after a moment.

“Never one to beat around the bush, aye?” Pete chuckled, wiping a tear from his eyes as aftershocks of laughter rattled through him.

“Never,” Tom agreed with a grin.

That had been the last time Tom saw Pete. The magic had pulled tight at his chest, poised like a string before snapping, and Tom was left with a breathless, empty feeling. The tears came unbidden, a sob choking up out of him as he hunched his shoulders. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt sorrow like this, the last time he had allowed himself to feel close to anyone. Now he remembered why he was cold, why he gave himself to the ocean beneath him.

He would not make that mistake again.

As if to hammer home the lesson, news of Kate’s death reached him only days after. She had confessed her love to that same, stupid boy she had been chasing, and the boy had denied her affections. In her despair, she had thrown herself into the sea, drowning beneath the surface of the waves.

Tom was livid. How dare that boy take such a thing as love for granted. It was no matter, Tom would be the one to teach him a lesson.

And a lesson he had certainly bestowed. The boy had begged for mercy, but there was none to be found in Tom’s empty, aching heart. He thought of his friend who had given up everything in the name of love, something the boy before him had spit on as far as Tom was concerned. And so he had cursed the boy with the very curse that had been bestowed upon him lifetimes ago.

If more is what the boy wanted, it was more he would seek.

Tom had turned his back on the boy, the cries for mercy blending in with the wind as he disappeared into the shadows of night.

He saw the boy six years later during a visit to see you and Bradley, the blond having the swagger of any young captain, and his demeanor almost reminded him of another captain from so long ago.

Almost.

Tom hated him. Hated the very sight of him, and he was sure it was written all over his face as he scowled at him. Of course, the boy had no idea that he was talking to the very man that had cursed him so many years before. Tom made it a point to not let his civilian form slip to reveal the cursed soul that lay beneath. The night he had cursed the young man, he had let his control slip, revealing the skeleton of the man he truly was.

He knew better than to raise his voice in opposition to the idea that Bradley join this man’s crew. Much like the man who raised him, Bradley was more inclined to do the thing you told him not to do—a trait that Tom had found most annoying in Pete. However, he watched you trail after your brother, desperation clouding your judgement, and Tom shook his head in pity. He could try to speak up, but that would risk his exposure. Besides, there was no guarantee Bradley would listen to him, let alone believe him. He watched helplessly as Bradley signed his life away, signed away his future.

Tom could not meddle in the affairs of common folk, not without a price anyway. Stopping Bradley would have meant paying a terrible price, one that Tom would have no control over. Cursing under his breath, he watched as you stormed out of the tavern, tears streaming down your face. A wave of sadness washed over him, and he hung his head lower, squeezing his eyes shut against the realization that you truly would lose everyone you held dear in your life. All because of him. He had played a part in creating your family, and now he was the reason you would lose everyone completely. You’d be alone, just like him.

“I’m so sorry, Guppy.”

A/N: I'm so excited to share this one with you guys. This chapter has been swirling around in my head basically since the inception of the fic. I loved getting to explore the backstory of Tom and his origins as well as his friendship with Maverick. Did you pick up on the mythology? Can you guess Tom's true name? Only one more chapter to go and then we have our epilogue!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @arcanevagabond-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

#ff #fool's fare #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you

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padfootagain · 8 days ago

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Love in Verses (XXV)

Chapter 25: ‘They will think of ways to make you smile so you can be happy for a while’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! Some embarrassing scenes for both our babies… it’s pretty cute! Also, Siobhán is back, hence the poem!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2247

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

A Friend

A person who will listen and not condemn Someone on whom you can depend They will not flee when bad times are here Instead they will be there to lend an ear They will think of ways to make you smile So you can be happy for a while When times are good and happy there after They will be there to share the laughter Do not forget your friends at all For they pick you up when you fall Do not expect to just take and hold Give friendship back, it is pure gold.

Gillian Jones

You were kissing him.

Hands in his hair, gently pulling, not enough to hurt, but enough to tug and make his brain short-circuit altogether.

Your lips left his for a moment, he blinked his eyes open, bending further to keep you close. You were in his arms, he was holding you against him, and you were bringing your lips to his ear, and it was divine, really, the feeling of you so close, your warm breath fanning over his cheek as you whispered.

“Andy, I want you…”

He held your face then, to bring your lips back to his, and you let him… and not only did you let him kiss you, you let him deepen that kiss, you kissed him back, you moaned into his mouth…

“I want you,” he whispered against your lips, breathing heavily, panting even. “God, you have no idea how much I want you, Y/N…”

You kissed again, both of you breathless while you struggled to walk across your living room, and all the way across your flat. You stumbled a little on the bed, both of you struggling to take your clothes off.

And suddenly there was so much skin to touch, to kiss, to gently bite on…

The way you sighed his name…

“Andy…”

He was kissing the skin of your thighs when you spoke his name again, louder this time.

“Andy.”

Your taste on his lips when you shouted, but it didn’t sound like a pleasurable cry…

“Andy!”

Andrew jumped up, startled, opening his eyes and falling onto the floor as the chair under him was pushed away by his rushed movements.

“Christ! Andy, you’re alright?”

He blinked, facing wooden tiles, a floor he recognised instantly…

“Andy?”

He looked up, following your voice. You were crouching by his side, fully dressed, in your black jeans and blue jumper, staring at him with worry in your eyes.

His eyes grew round.

He was at work. He had fallen asleep, he was in your office, in the same room as you while he dreamt of…

He sat up in a hurry, blushing to an extreme, looking anywhere but in your direction. Jesus… how could he ever look at you again…

His breathing was a mess, you stared at him with worried eyes, he knew you did, he could feel your gaze on him and the intention behind it.

“You’re okay? You look like you’re panicking…”

“I’m alright, sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, you just… you were dozing off. I should have been more… gentle, I guess, to wake you up.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost 10 p.m.”

“Christ, we should go home anyway. Thank you for waking me.”

He was still doing his best to look away, to not make eye-contact with you…

… for now, he could see your eyes looking down on him while his tongue was…

“Well, if it makes you fall off your chair, that must have been some dream you were having,” you joked, unaware of how true your words were.

“Yeah,” he joked. “I don’t know, can’t remember to be fair.”

He was finally back on his feet, and you were standing too. You gave him a smile, again, he wasn’t looking at you but he could feel it. He could hear it in your voice too.

“You look flustered, Andy,” you chuckled.

He nervously rubbed at the back of his neck.

A lie, a lie, a lie… he needed to find a lie. He couldn’t tell you the truth, obviously, how he had dreamt of kissing you, of doing much more than simply kissing you…

He rested his hand on his desk for support, but when he looked as his own fingers, he could see them again touching your bare skin, picture them pleasuring you…

He cleared his throat, reached for his jacket.

“Yeah, well… I did fall asleep on the job and then made an arse of myself so…”

“Oh, Andy…”

Your voice was so soft, so filled with fondness that he had to look up at you.

“You truly are adorable when you blush, you know?” you said, and even though he guessed that there was teasing in your words, your voice sounded too genuine to feel this way.

You chuckled, embarrassed at your confession, it seemed. You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

And then you started laughing, trying to hide it behind your hand at first, but then you were gone in a fit of laughter.

“You…” you choked on your own words, brushing tears away, and your laugh was so infectious, Andrew started to chuckle as well. “You falling from your chair… was hilarious though… you just…”

You dramatically imitated his fall, making him explode with laughter too. You couldn’t stop laughing for a good five minutes, both of you holding your painful stomachs.

“You’re right though, let’s go home. It’s late, I’m exhausted… and we do have to do this all over again tomorrow.”

“My God… don’t mention that…” Andrew smiled, waiting for you to turn off your computer and put on your coat.

For once, he would have preferred to make a quick escape, so he could curse at himself all he wanted and let himself fully feel the unbearable weight of embarrassment that came with his fantasies; but it would have seemed strange, completely out of character and habits, and he didn’t want you to ask more questions.

He walked with you out of the empty building and all the way to your cars. You chatted about the classes you had the next day, the book he had just begun reading. It was so easy, talking with you, Andrew almost forgot his dream. He was only hit with the memory again when you turned to him to bid him good night, all grin and shiny smile, looking unbearably beautiful in the orange streetlights. He wanted to kiss you again then, and that’s when the images came back, how he imagined you lying in bed under him, moaning his name…

He cleared his throat, bid you good night and hurried to disappear into his car while he fiercely blushed again.

“Y/N!”

“SIOBHÁN!”

People looked at the two of you as you ran across the train station, falling into each other’s arms, but none of you cared. Your best friend was back for a week, you had so many things to say and do together!

You helped her with her luggage while you crossed the station, then the parking lot all the way to your car. Before going to your flat, you needed to drop by Trinity for a meeting with Lydia you couldn’t move around in your schedule. There would be a conference organised later this year, hosted by Trinity, and she needed to start planning some details with you. Lydia wanted you for a conference, even if she hadn’t asked you officially yet, it was obviously the reason behind that meeting. You were grateful already that she would include you as one of the main speakers.

So, you took Siobhán to Trinity, showed her your building, got a coffee with her before heading to your office. She had brought her laptop, wanted to get some work done while waiting for you. After all, no one was truly on vacation when doing an academic job…

You spent some time talking with Colm in the corridor leading to your office, and he greeted your friend with a joyous tone. You were surprised to learn that he knew about Siobhán’s work, and you were almost ready to leave them alone for the rest of the afternoon as they were enthralled in a discussion about their work, when the door to your office opened. You saw Andrew walking out, bending down to avoid the doorframe. He greeted you with a warm smile, one that turned shyer when he noticed your friend.

Meanwhile, you saw the way Siobhán was raising a surprised eyebrow at your colleague, the way she blinked a couple of times and let her eyes trail along his frame for a couple of seconds, before catching herself.

“Hi, Andy!”

Siobhán sent you a questioning look that silently asked ‘THIS is Andy?!’

“Hi,” he answered with a tender smile.

“I’m glad to bump into you! I wanted to introduce you to my good friend, Siobhán! She’s staying in Dublin for a week. This is Andrew,” you added as you turned to Siobhán, without any other explanation. After all, you talked about Andrew often… or maybe, all the time.

“That’s very nice to meet you,” Andrew spoke in his softest, quietest voice, the one he used when he was feeling particularly shy, or when he wanted to soothe people around him.

He offered your friend his open palm, and she shook his hand with a grin.

“It’s nice to meet you too! Y/N can’t stop yapping about you, you know?”

You nudged her in the ribs, but she barely noticed. Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, and yet you witnessed his expression turning into a smug one, almost cheeky.

“Does she now?” he asked, his tone teasing, and you hated your stupid heart for skipping a few beats at the light in his eyes, at how low and deep his voice sounded, at the hint of flirt in his tone…

“All the time. It’s exhausting!”

“Siobhán!” you complained, but your friend merely shrugged.

“Just telling the truth!”

“I only hope Y/N doesn’t tell too many bad things about me.”

“Nah, don’t worry! On the contrary!”

“Alright, we’ve got to go now, sorry! Weren’t you heading for a class, Andy?”

“I was, yeah…”

“Good…”

“But I can stay five more minutes if your friend can provide us with some terribly humiliating stories about you…”

“Ha, I’m afraid I can’t disclose such information to you, Andrew,” Siobhán replied.

“Really? Why not?”

“I have a feeling she would prefer to be more… attractive, to you.”

He raised a surprised eyebrow again, while your eyes were going as round as saucers.

“Bye, Andy,” you mumbled under your breath, grabbing Siobhán by the arm and dragging her inside your office while she waved at Andrew. You didn’t turn around to see his reaction, didn’t want to bear witness to your own humiliation…

You shut the door and locked it before turning to your friend, aghast.

“What the fuck was that?!”

“Are you banging him?!”

“What?! Of course not! He’s a colleague! He’s a friend!”

“He’s so bloody hot, though, Y/N…”

“Siobhán!”

“I am only speaking the truth. You’re single. He’s single. You’re hot. He’s hot. It all comes together beautifully. And such a nice voice he has… so damn sexy…”

“I am not sleeping with Andy nor will I sleep with him in the future.”

“He likes you.”

You snorted.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied sarcastically.

“He does! Did you see the way he beamed at you? He’s into you.”

“He’s not.”

“He is!”

“He’s not!”

“But you are into him.”

You blinked, opened and closed your mouth a couple of times trying to think of something to say, of an argument to find… but there was nothing that could come out of your mouth for a long time. Too long for your next words to be believed by this woman who knew you better than yourself.

“I… am not! I’m not! Not at all!”

“Oh, yes… you are…”

“I am not! I… I’m trying to get Frank back!”

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow, but you merely heaved a sigh.

“Sorry, I really do have to go to my meeting now, I’ll be back later.”

You left for your meeting, which turned into exactly what you had expected. You obviously accepted to be one of the speakers at the conference, and started planning a subject for your lecture.

Over an hour later, when you came back to your office, Andrew was chatting with Siobhán. You recognised his nervous laughter, the way he bent his shoulders a little to seem smaller and less intimidating. He was shy, but he seemed to genuinely get along fine with your friend, and for some reason, you felt a great feeling of pride run through you at the sight.

They both turned to you as you entered the room.

“So?” Andy asked, and you merely grinned at him. “Ha! I knew she would ask you to be one of the speakers!”

“Has she asked you yet?”

Andrew shook his head.

“I’ll apply, once we can officially do so.”

“Fingers crossed!”

He heaved a painful sigh.

“Christ, I hate those things…”

The three of you kept on chatting for a little while, but then Andrew was heading to another class, and you and Siobhán were going home. You had barely walked out of the building that your friend held onto your arm and leaned closer to whisper in your ear.

“Christ, Andrew is so much better than Frank. I give the two of you my blessing!”

You rolled your eyes.

“There’s nothing between us!”

“There should be! You deserve someone better than Frank. Someone like Andrew. Someone who looks at you the way Andrew does.”

“What do you mean?” you frowned at her words.

She gave you a knowing look.

“Y/N… his eyes lit up every time I mentioned you. He was looking at you like you hung the stars and the moon… the lad is a goner. Don’t waste your chance.”

You laughed at her, brushed it all off, told her she was mad and should stop talking nonsense. Andrew didn’t even like you. He couldn’t have…

… could he?

#hozier #the hoziest #andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier fic #hozier professor au #hozier au #hozier fem!reader #professor au #au #fanfiction #series #hozier series #writing #fanfic

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oswildin · 26 days ago

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For Old Times Sake (Loki x Witch!Reader)

Summary: Loki finds himself in need of help, and there’s only one person who can aid him with his quest. But his past actions have left him in a dubious position… Can he convince you to aid him? For old times sake…

Rating: SFW/All ages, mentions/threats of violence, possibly a little suggestive?

A/N: Inspired by Agatha x Rio/Agatha All Along, lovers to enemies leaning trope, ‘complicated history’. Mainly angst, but also romantic in a ‘I hate you but I really love you’ kinda way. AU, set after ‘Thor The Dark World’ and references back to pre-Thor. Gender neutral reader.

Divider by @whimsicalrogers

Loki took a breath, his azure eyes fixed on the sign above the quaint book store on the side of a quiet street in the city. It had been a few weeks since the God of Mischief had faked his death on Svartalfheim in front of his brother and his… mortal. Even though he had aided Thor in trying to stop the Dark Elves, getting them to the enemy realm in the first place, he couldn’t trust that as soon as he returned back to Asgard he wouldn’t just get thrown straight back into his cell by Odin. The All-Father had been quick enough to throw him in a cell and leave him to rot over a year ago, and Loki had no doubt he would be willing to do so again. Especially with his mother now being…

It was a desperate attempt once again for some control, for some agency over his own life. But also, he was the God of Mischief, I mean… What did they expect? Besides, he was rather proud of the performance he had put on for his brother. But since then, he had been lying low, keeping out of Heimdall’s all-seeing eyes with a simple spell. But it was a temporary solution. Technically, all spells were but there was only so long that the one he had cast could go unnoticed by Asgard’s gatekeeper before he could see through it, begin to sense him. It needed to be stronger… And more permanent. And unfortunately for Loki, that meant seeking help… From a witch who was rather knowledgeable on such magic.

You. It would’ve always been you. A green witch. One that he had… history with. Another person he had once betrayed. ‘It was long ago, surely they can’t still be holding such a grudge?’

With a sigh, Loki glanced briefly left and right before walking towards the door to the store, smoothing his sleek, black suit jacket with one hand. He knew it was a risk, coming to see you… To ask you for help. It also bristled at his pride, of course… But the alternative of being discovered by Asgard, or even one worse - Thanos - was rather… unfavourable to the God.

Pushing the painted dark blue wooden door open, the bell above it chimed, that specific smell that book stores held reaching his nose in a way that was oddly comforting. He took a breath, stepping inside as the door closed behind him, his steps slow and cautious. It was quiet, save for the sound of movement further into the store. He felt a mix of trepidation and thrill at the fact he would see you again after so many years. The last time he saw you was before… well, everything.

The bell above the door of the store dinged as you put another book from your cart onto the shelf, unable to see the door from where you were behind the bookcase. You heard the bell at the counter ring out, signifying that someone needed help. You sighed, putting the book you had in your hand back onto the cart before you began to move out from behind the bookcase. ‘It better not be Mrs Jones, here to complain once again that she didn’t like the book she had willingly picked and paid for, only to want to return it after owning it for months.’ Mrs Jones had quickly become your mortal enemy.

However, as you rounded the corner, you spotted an all too familiar figure stood at the counter, his back to you. You froze for a moment, eyes widening. ‘It can’t be him. Right?’ That raven hair… You took a quiet breath, feeling your heart quicken in your chest. However, as the person turned their head slightly to the right, clearly sensing someone behind him, you caught sight of their profile.

‘It is him.’

It wasn’t long before the shock morphed into irritation— No, anger. ‘The nerve!’ You instantly creased your brows, lips pursing as you stalked towards the counter, making your footsteps loud enough for Loki to hear your approach. As he slowly turned to look at you, you narrowed your eyes, coming to a stop before him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked lowly, your fingers twitching at your sides as you allowed a flicker of emerald magic to appear at your fingertips. “You have some nerve.” There was no mistaking the venom in your voice, the years of being sat with his betrayal, the consequences… It all began bubbling closer towards the surface.

Loki’s expression shifted into one of charm and nonchalance, his signature smirk tugging at his lips at the sight of you - your clear anger. Your sharp glare reminded him of just how fierce you could be, and if he was a mere mortal, he would possibly consider leaving. But he was Loki, the God of Mischief. And he wasn’t one to back down from a confrontation, not when he was a rather good diplomat and possessed a silver tongue. Besides, a part of him relished in seeing you so riled up, even if your scorn was aimed at him.

“It’s good to see you too.” Loki mused smoothly, an undercurrent is his familiar mischief in his voice. “It’s been… Quite a while, hasn’t it?” He tilted his head faintly as he regarded you. His posture remained relaxed, yet his mind remained sharp, ready for anything you may throw his way - or ready for any punch you may attempt to throw at him.

You clenched your jaw slightly at his nonchalance, finding it particularly insulting after what he had done. How dare he just waltz in here, acting as if he didn’t utterly stab me in the back all those years ago.

“As for why I’m here, well truth be told, I find myself in need of…” Loki paused, raising his chin faintly, as if the word he was about to say was difficult. “Assistance…” He uttered the word quietly, a hint of reluctance in his tone. A moment of silence fell between them before you let out a humourless, breathy laugh.

“You must have a death wish.” You murmured, a hint of warning in your voice. At the flick of your wrist, you summoned a small, black handled dagger, your free hand moving to his chest as you shoved him back against the counter, the dagger raising to under his chin - not quite touching, but close enough in a threat and a warning. Loki remained calm, a flicker of amusement going through his eyes at your boldness. You took a sharp breath at the sight.

“And why on earth would I want to help you?” You raised a brow, tilting your head faintly, keeping him trapped between you and the counter. “You who betrayed me…” Your grip tightened on the handle of your dagger, a small snarl curling at your lips. “I should kill you.”

Loki couldn’t help but let out a small, rumbling chuckle, his lips widening into an almost cat-like grin. “Be my guest.” He shrugged lightly, unfazed by the threat of the blade under his chin. “But it appears there is a line. And technically… I’m already dead.” Your brows twitched at that, unaware of the lengths Loki had gone to escape his imprisonment, his consequences. Slowly, he raised his hand, his slender fingers wrapping around your wrist. It was gentle, his cool touch against your skin. Although, he made no move to lower your hand.

“You see… I thought perhaps you would find some… satisfaction in having me beg for your help.” His voice dropped to a near whisper, holding a hint of intimacy that felt nostalgic to the complex past you once shared.

“I don’t hear much begging.” You spoke as low as he, holding his gaze unwaveringly, your body still close to his as you kept him caged. Loki’s lips twitched ever so slightly into a smirk, lifting his head higher as he looked at you through his lashes, baring his throat in an almost vulnerable yet powerful manner. Perhaps even a challenge. Your name fell from his lips, almost softly.

“I implore you to listen to my plight… and consider my request.” He murmured, eyes flickering to your lips briefly, not going unnoticed by you, his fingers around your wrist sliding upwards ever so slowly to rest over your hand, holding the hilt of the dagger with you.

“Please.”

Your lips pursed, the simple word hanging in the air between you. You hated the way your skin tingled at his touch, the coolness of his fingers against your warm skin. It stirred memories you had long forgotten, that your anger had readily converted for so long, twisting into falsehoods and misremembering.

“You must be desperate to risk seeking me out.” You finally spoke, eyes flickering over his face, searching for any signs of deception. Loki couldn’t help but let out a breath, one of wry amusement.

“You have no idea.”

“I think that’s everything.”

Loki clasped his hands behind his back, having just filled you in on everything that had occurred since you last saw him, albeit it vaguely. He’d told you about how he had acquired the throne of Asgard, before finding himself in a ‘partnership of sorts’ with Thanos for his attempt to rule Earth - which you had, of course, already been aware of. It wasn’t like you could miss it. His face was plastered all over the news, New York was being evacuated as a giant alien army destroyed it. He’d also explained his current predicament, the fact he had been thrown into a cell on Asgard by Odin before Thor came to him for help to fight the Dark Elves… in which then he chose to fake his death, to allow his people, his family to think him dead and gone.

You shook your head faintly in disbelief, leaning against the counter with your arms folded, dagger sat on its shiny surface. Truthfully, you had heard him out because you were curious. Curious about what had happened to him in those years, especially after witnessing the events of New York. But you could feel there was more.

“Liar.” You finally uttered, raising a brow. You could sense that he was holding back. Loki’s eyes narrowed slightly, he always did hate how you could see through him. “What else?”

Loki took a sharp breath, unclasping his hands as they moved to his sides, one drifting to smooth the front of his suit jacket - an almost nervous habit, a way to try and keep his outward appearance composed to disguise the storm of thoughts within his mind. You sighed, rolling your eyes as you picked up your dagger once more, shrugging. “Well, I suppose I’ll just continue with my original plan to kill you then.” You took a step towards him, the God raising his hand to hold up in a ‘wait’ gesture.

“Okay, alright-“ He breathed out, nodding faintly. You paused, raising a brow expectantly. “That isn’t exactly… everything.” Loki pursed his lips, gaze flickering to the dagger in your hand before meeting your eyes again.

And so, Loki told you of the truths he had kept hidden; how he had discovered he was not Asgardian, but Jotun, taken by Odin as a babe with hopes of one day restoring peace between the two realms. He also told you of his mother’s death, still rather fresh. And you hated how you felt a twinge of sympathy, of pain for him, anger on his behalf. You shouldn’t care. Not after what he did to you. Your anger refused to let you forget that so easily.

“Sounds like it’s been hard.” You raised a brow, nodding faintly, holding his gaze. “Complicated.” A shrug. “Lonely…” The word was spoken quietly, dagger still in hand as you once again took a slow step towards him. Loki’s keen eyes flickered over you, reading the lingering tension in your frame. “I mean, you were lied to… Betrayed by those you thought you could trust… Possibly even felt abandoned?” It clicked into place for Loki, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment, feeling the faintest tug of guilt in his chest. You noticed. You took another step closer. Your name fell from his lips again, softer this time, but you cut him off.

“Do you even know what happened after you left? To me?” You asked, brows furrowing faintly. You used your dagger to gesture to yourself, the tip pointing at your chest. Loki remained silent. “I don’t know what would be worse… If you did know and chose to stay away, or if you didn’t because you didn’t care enough to find out.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours again, a hint of defensiveness appearing in his sharp features. He wanted to rebuff your words, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know, but it wasn’t because he didn’t care… It was… quite the opposite.

“And judging by your silence…” You let out a brief humourless laugh. “I would say it was the second option, hm?” You shook your head subtly. “Why don’t I tell you then?” In a flash, you were once again stood before him, one hand grasping the fabric of his suit jacket tightly, the other still wrapped around your dagger as you pointed it towards his chest. Loki didn’t react, his expression unreadable. Even as he tried to remain detached, nonchalant, you could see the flicker of apprehension in his eyes. You stood close, close enough that you could see every minute detail on his face, every small micro-expression… Just as he could see yours.

“After you betrayed me, my coven deemed me a traitor, unfit.” You began lowly, voice barely above a whisper. “I was exiled, hexed, left with weakened magic.” Loki blinked, jaw twitching. “All because I helped you.” A tense pause. “And now you come here… to ask for my help once more?” You tilted your head faintly, eyes narrowing dangerously. “No…” You whispered, leaning ever so slightly closer. Loki didn’t flinch, remaining calm despite the regret he could feel spreading through him. “How about we make your faked death a reality?”

You knew you couldn’t do it. But you wanted to make him believe you could.

You pulled back the dagger, as if you were going to strike him, already knowing he would be one step ahead. His form quickly shimmered from your grasp, a faint smirk tugging at your lips before you whirled around, seeing the trickster with his signature green magic summoned at his fingertips a few feet away. “Surely being truly dead would solve all your problems?” You mused sardonically, raising a brow. “This is me helping you.”

Loki let out a heavy sigh, clicking his tongue. “You’re much more drawl than you used to be.” He remarked, flicking his wrist as the dagger in your hand flew out of your grip, landing across the room on the floor with a metallic clink. You let out a low snarl, your own magic flickering to life.

“Oh, I can be far more drawl than that.” You quipped. “How about… I cut out your heart?” You continued, as if you were merely discussing the weather and not ways you would murder the God of Mischief. “If I can locate it.” You sent a blast of emerald magic towards him, the trickster deftly countering it with his own.

“And they say I’m the dramatic one.” Loki mumbled under his breath, sighing once again. “Look, I understand, you’re upset-“ He tried to reason, but you simply laughed.

“Upset?” You repeated in a scoff. “I’m livid!” You exclaimed, sending another blast of magic towards him, the God stepping out of its path as it hit a nearby bookcase, creating a charred mark on the spines and wooden shelf.

“Now you’re just destroying perfectly good books.” Loki quipped, gesturing towards it with one of his hands. You hated that apart of you had missed this, missed his… wry, incessant commentary.

“Then stay still!” You growled, frustrated, drawing as much power as you could muster from what your coven had left you with. Your fingertips flew a brighter green, and just as you were about to send the powerful wave towards him, you saw his eyes flash emerald. Your eyes widened faintly, knowing exactly what he was doing. But it was too late, before you could react, you felt your wrists be suddenly grabbed and pulled to the sides, rendering them useless. You couldn’t see them, but you knew they were there. His shadows.

“Why don’t you take a breath, hm?” Loki let his own magic dissipate from his fingers, taking a small step closer to you.

“Bite me.” You hissed back, making the God raise an amused brow.

“Maybe later.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes. You struggled slightly against his shadows grip, even if you knew it was futile. After a moment of struggling, you let out a sound of frustration, the fight slowly going out of you. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths, your features shifting into something more vulnerable. Loki noticed, his smirk fading. The consequences of his actions were always something he ran from, refused to take accountability for… But this was… different.

It was you.

Loki took a quiet breath, steeling himself for the words he was about to say.

“I’m sorry.”

Your breaths stilled for a second, turning quieter, your eyes flickering up to look at him. His features had shifted into something more sincere, more… reflective. Loki waved his hand, the shadows disappearing as your hands fell back to your sides, freeing you.

“You are right. I didn’t know.” He admitted, referring to your earlier words about him having not cared to find out how his past actions had affected you. “But it wasn’t because I didn’t care.” You almost scoffed, but seeing the way his blue eyes bored into yours… Intense and strangely raw… You refrained. Loki took another tentative step closer. “A part of me… Didn’t bother to look because perhaps I already knew the consequences you would face for my betrayal.” He continued lowly, honestly. “But another part of me… Cared too much to know.” A pause. “‘Never look, never know’ I believe is the sentiment.”

Silence stretched between you, Loki giving you a moment to process his words, his honest explanation. Even if he knew it wasn’t good enough. He didn’t expect you to forgive him, but possibly understand to some degree. He watched you closely, seeing the way your brows relaxed ever so faintly, the tension in your frame ebbing. He took it as a more positive sign, choosing to continue.

“It wasn’t long ago that I believed sentiment was a weakness, and I still do believe it in some measure.” He murmured. “But losing my moth- Frigga-“ He corrected, sighing as his brows creased slightly, pain glinting in his gaze. “It… makes one realise certain things.” He breathed out. “And I realise that… Self preservation, whilst in my nature, is not always the best and can lead to further harm and consequences that cannot be so easily forgotten or forgiven.”

You bit your lower lip gently, chewing at it lightly, your mind racing from his words. You hated how your anger began to fade, how it began to retreat into the recesses of your mind and heart, understanding and even empathy taking its place. You too understood the need for self preservation, the need to lash out, to react… Hurt others before they can hurt you. He had taught you that. Your coven had taught you that…

“I have not come here expecting forgiveness.” Loki took another step closer, more confidently this time, his posture more open and relaxed than before. “And I know I have no right to ask you to help me.” His eyes trailed over your features, searching. “But… I beg of you.” It was barely above a whisper, almost breathy. “Grant me this one request, help me remain out of sight from those who wish to cage me… And afterwards, I will leave you be if that is what you desire.” He offered, even if part of him hoped that it wasn’t. That you wanted him to stick around, to try and reconcile the past. “For old times sake.” He added, the faintest of smiles tugging at his lips, as if he himself was remembering exactly that - the old times. The time before he had completely destroyed any trust between you.

You swallowed the small lump in your throat, clearing it softly. He was a lie-smith, a silver-tongue, manipulative and charming… Yet, his offer, his plea, felt genuine. Perhaps it the most genuine you had ever seen the trickster be. And that complicated history between you both implored you to agree, to grant him his quest for help. You let out a slow breath, straightening, seeking to regain some semblance of your composure.

“If I help you…” You began tentatively, arching a brow. “I need assurances.” Loki couldn’t help but feel a hint of respect and almost admiration at that. It seemed he had taught you well. He gave a brief nod. “I want you to help me get back what I lost.” You stated simply, determination in your gaze. “Not my coven, they can go to hell for all I care-“ You added, raising your chin slightly, Loki’s lips tugging into an amused smirk. “But my power. I want it back. All of it.”

Loki let out a thoughtful hum, taking the last step closer before he was stood directly before you. His presence was as comforting as it was unsettling, quite the contradiction… But it seemed that was something that always followed you both - contradictions.

“I’m sure I can… come up with something.” Loki finally spoke, low, an intimate timbre to his voice. “After all, I am the God of Mischief, am I not?” He mused, a playful tease.

“But-“ You added, tilting your head. “If you betray me again…” You narrowed your eyes, a dramatic pause. “You’ll wish you had accepted your fate from Asgard.” Loki couldn’t help but feel a little thrill, the fierce promise lingering in the air between you. He knew what you were capable of, just as you knew what he was capable of. You were both dangerous to one another. Loki’s lips slowly curled into a feline grin.

“Don’t tempt me so.” He replied smoothly, oozing that mischievous charm you knew all too well. “Are you sure you’re a witch and not a demon?” He teased, making you roll your eyes again, however, you couldn’t prevent the faintest smirk that pulled at the corner of your mouth. “Or maybe you are just… bewitching in your threats…”

“You’re already making me regret my decision.” You muttered with a sigh, shaking your head. You stepped to the side, moving to go around him, trying to put some distance between you, but Loki’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist - firmly but gently. He halted your movement, shifting on his feet to stand before you once again, this time even closer. His thumb brushed your pulse point, barely noticeable, but you felt it.

Loki’s gaze was intense, his blue eyes searching yours as he could feel the way your pulse had quickened. That small thing was significant to him. It meant that the door wasn’t fully closed, not truly. Truthfully, there wasn’t a day that went by that Loki didn’t miss you. Even if it was buried beneath his aloofness, his self preservation and denial of sentiment… But it seemed there was hope after all.

“And for the record…” Loki murmured. “My heart is located in the exact same place as yours.” His eyes flickered down to your lips, subtle and quick, but you noticed it. “So, you wouldn’t have any trouble in finding it, if you do find yourself inclined to ‘cut it out’.” There was a hint of wry humour underlying his words, but you could read between the lines.

‘I feel the same as you. I do have a heart.’

After a few moments, you cleared your throat, gently tugging your wrist from his hold, the God allowing you to do so. You let out a quiet breath, pursing your lips. “Good.” You breathed out, nodding faintly. “I do hate when I have to dig around for it.” You wryly quipped back in return, Loki letting out a breathy chuckle in response.

“Do you often find yourself cutting out the hearts of those who betrayed you?” He asked in amusement, cocking a playful brow.

“No.” You murmured. “I reserve it only for those who are special.”

For old times sake.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki oneshot #loki fanfic #loki mcu #loki marvel #Loki #marvel x reader #light angst #angst with a happy ending

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aaronhotchswife · 1 year ago

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THE WAY YOU MAKE ME FEEL

Drew Starkey X Female Reader

Chapter 2

Warnings : alcohol, panick attack, angst, want to give the reader a hug, smut, loss of virginity

If you missed chapter 1

"One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter." - James Earl Jones

Y/N's point of view

I'm at Madelyn's, curled up on the couch with a hot tea in my hands. I don't want to go home, because I know that Drew will be there, with Odessa probably. I don't have the strength to see him. Even if at the same time, he is the only person I want to see.

I now know what heart break feels like and I now know that I have to teach my heart to accept disappointments, even from the people I love, even from him.

Madelyn is sitting next to me, playing with my hair. I respond to the worried texts of my friends, saying that I'm okay and that I'm sorry to have ruined their night. They are all understanding and tell me to have a great trip at my parents for the holidays, and to take time for myself. I respond to all of them except Drew. I just write him that I'm at Madelyn's and that I'll pass by tomorrow to get my suitcase for the holidays. I ignore his texts asking me what happened. I just answer him to have a great Christmas before turning off my phone and go to sleep.

Drew's point of view

I think I'm in love with Y/N since I saw her for the first time. When everyone got cast, we had dinner at the restaurant to get to know each other. I was sitting with the boys, talking about what we liked in life, when I saw her, making her way to the table. She was wearing a yellow summer dress with white converses. Her hair was tied up in a effortless ponytail, and I swear that in that moment, I saw the most beautiful girl in the world.

But I think that I truly fell in love with her 3 months after we met. We were walking in the city, and we saw a kid looking for his parents. Without hesitation, she made her way to him, kneeling at his height, asking him if he needed help. The kid was inconsolable so she sat with him, telling him stories and making him laugh until his parents found him again. In that moment, I knew. I knew that she could have broke my heart in a thousand pieces and I would've been grateful.

Since that day, three years ago, it always been the two of us, until tonight.

So when I arrive at Madelyn's apartment, I want nothing more than to have answers. I feel sick to think I could've put her in that state. I knock at her door, rubbing my hands in my face. When she opens the door, I can see how annoy she is at me.

"She's sleeping."

"Ok, then tell her I passed by and that I want to talk. Please," we're both surprised by my shaking voice. "What the hell happened out there ?"

"Maybe you should ask that to your friend Odessa, Drew. I know she is your friend, but you should've seen the state Y/N was. Getting humiliated like that in front of her friends, in front of you."

"In front of me?" I struggled to ask, my brows furrowed.

"Please Drew," she chuckled coldly. "As if she wanted you to know that she was a virgin. I'll let her know you passed by, but you need to let her some space, she has a lot on her mind right now."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You should go, Drew, she'll talk to you when she's ready."

I leave her house, cursing to myself. When I go to bed that night, I can't stop thinking about her, about us, about how I lost something I never had.

Y/N's point of view

I leave Madelyn's apartment early this morning, figuring out that if I go to our apartment early enough, chances will be that Drew will still be asleep. I guessed right because when I unlock the door, I can hear him snoring lightly.

***

As I'm driving to my parents' house, I put my Christmas playlist on shuffle, question to get into the mood. As I get on the highway, the song Blue Christmas by The Lumineers starts playing. I feel like it's the first time in my life where I can really relate to this song. My mind starts to wonder, how will Drew's Christmas will be like. How will my Christmas be like. I can feel the tears burning my eyes as I try my best to stay concentrated on the road.

***

I'm sitting on the sofa; my parents and my brother are talking about something I can't decipher. I'm scrolling on my phone, through Instagram. My heart skips a beat when I see a picture that Mackayla posted. I look at the picture, where Drew all smiling, is photographed with his family. I read the caption as it says "Merry Christmas from our family to yours.'' I double tap on it, liking it, even if it feels as if my heart throws itself down the 18th floor to see him smile like that.

Drew's point of view

Christmas sucks this year. I try my best to act like everything is fine, to act as if she's not mad at me. But my mind keeps wandering and I keep asking myself why she acted like that. I mean, sure what Odessa did was not nice, but I keep asking myself what was the meaning behind Madelyn's words.

''Drew!'' Brooke's voice pulls me out of my thoughts, ''We're opening the gifts!''

I sit on the floor, watching my mom handing me a gift. I unwrap it, finding an air fryer under the paper. Before I can say anything, my mom almost screams, ''It's for you and Y/N! I know how you both love easy and quick cooking.''

I laugh slightly, trying to push away the thought that I miss her, that I love her, and that I hope that our friendship can pass through whatever happened that night.

Y/N ‘s point of view

As I come home 2 days later, I see Drew laying on his bed, reading a book. I feel my heart throbbing in my chest, and weirdly, for the first time, I don’t know how to act around him. A mix of thoughts is spinning around in my head, and I find myself wondering if I should apologize to him for how I acted at the bar. Madelyn told me how he went to her apartment to have answers and I can’t imagine how bad he must’ve felt.

He must have felt that I was standing in the doorframe of his room because he turned his head, looking at me with so much gentleness, as if he was afraid to break me just with his gaze.

''Hi.'' I say, making an effort to keep my voice steady.

''Hi.''

I make my way to him, laying next to him on the bed.

He clears his throat before speaking again, ''how was your Christmas?''

''T'was fun,'' I answer, my eyes focused on his bedroom's ceiling, ''what about yours?''

''Was great, my mom says hi,'' he smiles.

''We should talk,'' we say at the same time.

Drew chuckled softly, and for the first time since I'm laying next to him, I stop looking at the ceiling, looking at him instead.

''I feel like I owe you an apology for how I acted at the bar,'' I say, my voice not even louder than a whisper. But I know he heard me he interrupts me.

''No, I should apologize. I should've done something while you were having a panick attack. Does it happen often ?''

Drew's point of view

I look into her eyes as I ask my question. I can see her breath getting stuck in her chest.

''It's fine if you don't want to talk about it,'' I say, giving her an occasion of changing subject.

''No, it's ok,'' she answers, ''I used to happen a lot more when I was younger. I used to do them when there were a lot of people or noises. But the one a couple of days ago was the first in a long time. I thought I was getting better, I honestly did. But sometimes, I just lay in bed at 3 am, trying to figure out what is wrong with me and why I'm never enough.''

''I'm sorry,'' I say to her. I truly feel sorry for her, because I know that she can't see herself the way I see her. So strong, always there for the others, always happy. I'm cursing mentally to not have realized how she was doing.

''You don't have to be sorry Drew.''

My hand reaches for hers and my gaze goes from her eyes to her lips. I can see hers do the same. I just want to close that gap between our lips. But before I can do anything, she turns her head, excusing herself and leaving me alone in my room.

Taglist -

@willowalexissss

@abbybarnesstuff

@ethanthequeefqueen

@pet1t3

@drewstarkeysbae

@prentissesredtanktop

@jjmaybankisbae

@f4ll-for-you

#drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey angst #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #drew starkey fanfiction #Spotify

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pygmi-cygni · 2 months ago

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Deadly Seven

a new series! yay! Instead of doing kinktober because I'm not that comfy with writing smut yet and because I'm already doing fluff and angst, I made up a little alternative: for each of the seven deadly sins, I'll pick a few characters and write a little fic for each of them based on the cardinal sin (will be smut or at the very least spicy) (no i am not bashing any religions that follow this, i just thought it would be fun)

THE PLAN SO FAR (not in order)

gluttony - king john (oscar), javier pena

sloth - cecil dennis

pride - blue jones, nathan bateman

greed - oberyn martell, marc spector

envy - miguel o'hara, jake lockley

lust - poe dameron, steven grant

wrath - din djarin, santiago garcia

this is the plan I will add the links when they're done (ofc they'll be added to the main masterlist but this is also an option)

xox

(tw will be added on a fic-by-fic basis)

if you'd like to be tagged in this series, comment or dm me

current list

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @krakenkitty @bulletgoth

@ominoose @justsomeonecalledemma @iolaussharpe-24 @steven-grants-world

#fanfic #fanfiction #oscar isaac characters #pedro pascal #din djarin #moon knight system #x reader #moon knight #miguel ohara #spider man 2099 #coming soon!

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jellyvibes710 · 1 year ago

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Little Baby Blue AU (Character + position)

I gave up on the character sheet so I'll just give you all what I got and tell you who's gonna be all in the comic and their positions

The first chapter of this au will mainly be focused on Donnie and his journey of saving his brother Leo, in the first part(s) he'll be with leo and his brother's as he tries to help him recover, sitting in the medbay and being the only two awake they share some words, tips, worries all of that stuff.

Once Donnie notices that Leo's conditions are just getting worse he pushes his family out so he can focus on saving him, then just a few hours later Leo falls into a coma then his first flatline happens.

After the first flatline Dee changes his course of action, we'll follow Dee and his struggles to convince draxum to let him use his last remaining clone products and his struggles to receiving a device he needs to collect, safely confine, and transfer Leo's soul from big mama It takes multiple nights of no sleep, no eating, and constantly working to finally bring his brother back, although not quite the way he wants, It was his only chance he had though thus little baby blue is born.

Although being in an undamaged body is great, the events leo went through were still very traumatic. The second chapter will be focused on leo recovering from his traumatic experiences and finding ways to work with what he's got. Once being brought back he heavily relys on his twin senses and discovers that despite hearing Dee's thoughts, he can't hear Leo's. So he finds a way through communicating with chirps and body language. Dee also relys on their twin senses and thanks to this their twin sense basically gets an upgrade from constantly being used, they can sense when the other is hungry, sad, happy, the basics, but they can also sense when the other is in danger, when they use their ninpo, they can even feel the others presents

Example: dee can sense when leo is safe and when he's in need of saving, leo can sense if dee can save him or if he needs to portal or land safely.

There is going to be a lot of disaster twin comfort in chapter two haha

Admittedly, Donnie becomes very, VERY protective of leo for the first few parts of second chapter. Even going as far to hiss at April when she tries to pick Leo up to which she responds "Oh, you did not just hiss at me." At first he only trusts his brother's and splinter to handle leo because they know just as well as he does that leo is not only smaller but now much more vulnerable. He does warm up though and goes back to his normal, not super protective self.

If leo feels unsafe or threatened he chirps as loud as he can and in a matter a moments his brother's will be on the scene, especially Donnie, who if he sees leo is safe, you'll be safe

But in his defense he sacrificed so much just to have leo back and he is just scared if anything goes wrong he won't be able to get him back and will lose his twin forever.

If you can't find leo in any of the panels, check everyone's neck/shoulders. It's his favorite spot to perch and relax because the heartbeat and steady breathing from his brother's calms his frantic mind and helps him relax, in the previous picture when donnie comes to the rescue the first place he goes is to his neck, not only to calm down but to also let donnie know that he feels and is safe.

Despite being the biggest and spikiest turtle, raph is the most gentle with leo, if you can't find leo on anyone's neck or shoulders check raphs hands, leo feels secure in raphs hands and if raph needs to add extra protection he cups his hands over leo and is sure to leave his fingers cracked so he's not left in the dark but is safely secured

Whenever his brother's will pick Leo up they'll naturally set leo in his favorite spot because they'll get a bit of comfort feeling him curled up there or holding onto them, so not only is it comfortable for leo it's comfortable for his brother's too, donnie will never admit that though.

I am very excited to share this with everyone (I had to remake this because I accidentally deleted it so I'm sorry if some parts seemed rushed ^-^')

Leo (Little baby blue, figuring out his challenges and finding ways to pull through them while being there for his brother's)

Donnie (has to make a deal with draxum and big mama, saves his brother, never stops working till Leo is back, sacrifices his tech for leos sake)

Mikey+Raph (are there for leo through his battles and have each other's backs while overcoming their own battles)

April (the older sister, knows when to put her turtles brothers in their place when they act out, sass God, has a huge crush on Cassandra)

Splinter (is there for his sons, allows hugs at any time, will drop his life for his boys safety, helps treats mikeys and raphs injuries after donnie kicks them all out, always brings food to Dee's door and is happy the few times dee does eat)

Cassandra (is the backbone when fighting kraang zombies, confidence that helps boost everyone else's confidence, doesn't know when to quit, has a huge crush on April, will break things because April is being too cute, is Jr's adopted mom and proudly holds that title)

Casey Jr (has the knowledge of kraang weakness and strengths, handles himself very well, always feels like he's being watched, is Cassandra's son, helps gets supplies)

Hypno + Warren (are the babysitters of leo, helped the turtles after the events of the movie, have cut back on crime since helping almost end the world, still have a tendency to blow things up sometimes, may or may not be dating, no one really knows)

Draxum (helps supply donnie with the tools and knowledge needed for cloning ones brother, helps donnie through the failed subjects, helps him through his journey and always suggesting ideas for dee)

Big mama (makes the trade for donnies tech, tries to cross dee, learns why you never try to cross him on his final straw)

Kraang

Thank you guys so much for your patience!! The next update will be Part one of the actual comic!! I even got my own tablet so I don't have to wait till I see my sister, yes the comic series itself will be colored and outlined, sketches are faster for stuff like this though. Anyways I'd like to tag @ilivelikeimtrying @skylabrea @wandering-ghost (I hope I didn't mix any of you guys up if I did I'm sorry haha) you all seemed super excited to read this series and that makes me over the wall happy! You have no idea ahhh! I swear I won't let you guys down :D

.- / -- .- -. / .-- .... --- / ... - .- -. -.. ... / -... . ..-. --- .-. . / .... .. ... / ..-. .- - . --..-- / - .- -.- . / .... .. ... / .-.. .. ..-. . / .-- .... --- ... . / - --- / -... .-.. .- -- . --..-- / - .- -.- . / .... .. ... / ..-. .- -- .. .-.. -.-- / -... . / .--. ..- - / - --- / ... .... .- -- . --..-- / .-- . / ..-. .. --. .... - / - --- / .-.. .. ...- . --..-- / -. --- - / ... ..- .-. ...- .. ...- . --..-- / - --- -. .. --. .... - / - .... . / ..-. --- . / ... .... .- .-.. .-.. / .--. . .-. .. ... .... --..-- / .- - / - .... . / .... .- -. -.. ... / --- ..-. / - .... . / .... . .-. --- / - --- / .-- .... --- / - .... --- ... . / -.-. .... . .-. .. ... .... . -.. .-.-.-

MORE LITTLE BABY BLUE

Here

Over there

And here

Oops and here?

#save rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #unpause rottmnt #rise movie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt angst #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt cassandra jones #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt splinter #rottmnt april #little baby blue au

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miela · 1 year ago

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Shattered Memories

Prologue

Pairing: Peter Parker x Silk!Avenger!Stark!Reader Length: Series (Longish, maybe a little over 10 chapters) Series Genre(s): Romance with Dramatic and Comedic undertones (if you squint) Series Theme(s): Fluff, Angst, Smut Series Summary: After Peter sacrificed his identity for the sake of the world, five years go by before he finds you back in his life again. Series Warnings: Mentions of substance abuse, alcoholism, s*icidal thoughts, and possible abusive relationship (not Peter x Y/N) in later chapters. warnings subject to change. Please proceed with caution. Extra Content: One of my OCs are in here! Let me know if you want me to make a character list to reference.

Masterlist

➼ divider by cafekitsune

In the sky there is a crackling sound as a jagged purple band of fluorescent and electric strips open in the air like someone took a knife and cut open the blue of the sky. Peter swung over by your friends, while you swung around the premise of the Statue of Liberty to make sure that no one was left behind from needing to go back to their proper universe. It was a crazy few days. It was a crazy week really. First, going to Italy on the school trip just for it to be interrupted demands from Fury to Mysterio making out Peter to be public enemy number one to this, fighting people from different dimensions just to fix everything.

Just as you thought things couldn’t get any worse, you weren’t prepared for what was next.

“You’re okay!” Michelle Jones-Watson, aka MJ, exclaimed once Peter swung by them.

They all joined in on a group hug before Peter pulled back from them and studied them worriedly. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, we’re okay.” MJ said with a sigh of relief.

At that moment you swung down as well as you took off your spider mask while catching your breath. “Well, that was another successful adventure for the Iron Spider Gang!”

MJ and Ned let out exhausted chuckles with you as Celina smiles big. Everyone looked exhausted and honestly you were exhausted. Your shoulders dropped in relief before Peter grabbed your face gently with his gloved hands, noticing the gash on the temple of your forehead above you eye. His touch took you by surprise as you looked up at him wondrously.

“Oh my god,” He exclaimed as he scanned your face for other injuries. “You’re bleeding…!”

You had gotten the cut during the battle and you had gotten worse injuries before, and each and every time, Peter got so concerned…even if he was in worse condition.

“Oh this? ‘Tis nothing but a scratch, Parker.” You smiled softly. “I’m sure it’s already halfway healed.”

He looked into your eyes filled with worry and a hint of skepticism. “Are you sure?” He rubs his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks gently and lovingly.

“I’m fine,” You smile reassuringly. “I’m okay, I promise.”

His shoulders dropped in relief. “Okay….okay….good.” He then turned to look at yours and his friends, Ned, MJ and Celina, to make sure they were okay. They all gave him tight and thin lipped reassuring smiles and nods in response.

“Um…We should go then, right?” MJ asked after a moment.

“Yeah,” You nodded. “I can summon the Quinjet and we can be home in no time.”

For a moment, Peter struggles to find the words to tell you guys the truth of how this mission will end. Thunder echoed in the sky as you all looked up to see the purple rips that dance across the sky. Doctor Stephen Strange, a sorcerer, was levitating in the sky casting a spell that is meant to solve the merging of the multiverse issue.

Peter let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes and pursed his lips together for a moment before speaking those dreaded words that you never thought you would ever hear in your life.

“You’re gonna forget who I am.”

All four of you look at him confused.

“What?” Ned asked, voicing what all of you were thinking.

“Forget who you are…? What are you talking about?” MJ added.

Celina cocked her head to the side in confusion.

You, who has been through the craziest of situations and knew that anything and everything was possible due to your thankless job as an avenger, caught on to what he was meaning very quickly. You looked up at the purple rips, to Strange and then to the spell before looking at Peter horrified for an elaboration in hopes that he didn’t mean what you thought he meant.

Peter noticed your expression and continued. “It’s okay. I’m gonna come and find you, and I’ll explain everything.”

All your faces fall as you realize that he definitely meant what you were afraid of him meaning.

“No…” was all that you could manage coming out of your mouth. It sounded almost pleading.

Peter cradled your face again and looked into your eyes with determination. “I’ll make you remember me, and it will be like none of this ever happened. Okay?”

MJ, in a slightly panicked state, replied. “Okay, but what if that doesn’t work?”

“Yeah!” you agreed, tearing up. “What if…What if that doesn’t work? What if we can’t remember you? I don’t want to do that. I don’t…I don’t wanna do that, Peter. I don’t want to do that…” You shook your head rapidly.

“I know, (Y/N),” He cradled your face again and looked into your eyes sadly. “I know.”

“But…Is there not something we can do? We can come up with a plan or something! There’s always something we can do…We always find a way. Always. It's literally our job…!” You began thinking of other ways immediately. “What about…what about…” You were at a loss for words as you tried to scramble up an idea from your scattered brain.

Peter shook his head. “There’s nothing we can do.” He brushed his thumbs over your cheek and wiped away your tears before adding reassuringly. “But it’ll be okay.”

“No,” you say again, shaking your head rapidly again as your vision becomes blurred because of your tears. “No, no, no, no….no, Peter, please there must be another way.” you hold on to his arms with an iron grip as you start shaking in fear. “There’s always another way…!”

How could anyone think that you could accept this? You and Peter always had each other’s backs, especially in battle and on missions. You two were a perfect pair, a match made in heaven. How could you let yourself forget him?

You wouldn’t let yourself forget him.

You wanted to graduate with him. You wanted to enjoy the summer before college with him. You wanted to go school supply shopping with him and help him pick out stuff for his dorm room. You wanted to help him move in and set up his room and then spend the rest of the night watching your favorite movies together. You wanted to go to a halloween party with him as you wear matching costumes and be cute together as he introduces you to all of his new friends. You had a plan to make a friendsgiving and you wanted him to be there. You wanted to spend Christmas together and go ice skating and snowboarding. You wanted to move in together and spend the rest of your lives together.

But you couldn’t do all of that if you couldn’t remember who he was now could you?

“We will find another way.”

“(Y/N)...”

“No! Peter, I-I can’t accept this. What if it doesn't work?” You sniffled out as you let your mind race with the possibilities of what could go wrong with this horrendous plan. “You’ll be all alone…”

MJ tried to catch her breath, as Ned’s eyes brimmed with tears. Celina was silently crying. The air was thick but at the same time, it was way, way, way too thin. You felt both hot and cold at the same time and you could’ve sworn your body was going into shock over this.

“Hey, hey…” Peter cradled your face again. “Look at me.”

You looked up at him with sad eyes and a quivering lip.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“(Y/N) S-stark.” You sniffled out.

“That’s right,” He smiled softly. “And what are you?”

“An Avenger.”

“And what do Avengers do?”

“Save the world,” You replied again, you swallowed hard as you tried to not to scream and sob. “W-we save the world.”

“And how do we plan to do that?” he asked, referring to the two of you.

You recalled the day you both became the dynamic duo of the Avengers. You both had promised that you would always stick together no matter what. You both were two halves of one emotionally and biologically, since you both were bitten by the same spider.

“Together,” You gave him a small smile remembering the first time you guys made that oath. “Until the bitter end. Like we promised.”

“And I keep my promises, yeah?” He smiled sweetly. “This isn’t the bitter end. Not yet. I will come and find you.” He glanced up at the others. “All of you.”

Ned looked down for a moment before speaking. “You promise?”

Peter turned to Ned and looked at him with a reassuring smile. “Yeah,” He let go of your face and walked over to his best friend. “I promise.”

Peter and Ned did a bittersweet version of their special handshake. It was almost heartbreaking to see due to how…final it felt. Then Peter pulled Ned into a hug.

“I’ll come find you, okay?”

“I know you will,” Ned smiled sadly.

When they pulled back from the hug, Peter turns to MJ and Celina. He goes over by Celina first.

Celina’s shoulder shook as she hiccuped from crying. Peter worried for her since they’ve been attached at the hip since they were little. They were practically siblings and she would be losing the last of her family…and he would be losing the last of his. But he knew she would be in good hands with how strong the bond of your friends group was.

“Hey,” he started. “I know you’ve been thinking about training with Strange. I think you should do it, Who knows you might need to use a spell one day.” He smiled at her and petted her head endearingly. “You’ll do great out there. I'll always be your big bro, Celi.”

Her lip quivered as she nodded and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back and kissed her head. She’s always been like a little sister to him, despite them being the same age. Once she pulled back from the hug she went over to Ned and hugged him as she cried into his shoulder. Peter then turned to MJ.

“You better come find us.” She sniffled. “If you don’t, I’m just gonna figure it out. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.” She let out a barely-there soft chuckle. “And I will do it again.”

He hugged her for a moment before saying. “I promise I’ll fix this mess.”

He turns back to you again as you look at him and nod knowingly. There was nothing you could do and you knew that this was for the greater good…even if you hated the hell out of the idea of it.

“You better come find us, Parker. Do you hear me?” You said sternly as you poked his chest. “You better come find me. If you won’t then I’ll come find you myself. And If I have to come find you…I swear to the fucking heavens and Asgard, If I have to come find you…I’ll kick your ass into another dimens-”

His lips were on yours in a deep, passionate and desperate kiss, and you returned the kiss back while wrapping your arms around his neck. He kissed you like it was the last time you guys would ever kiss and you returned the energy of the exchange. After a moment he reluctantly pulled back slowly and leaned his forehead on yours softly.

“I really fucking hate magic,” You stated.

Peter laughed softly with a knowing grin. “Yeah,” He replied. “Me too.”

You guys stood there for a moment in each other’s arms in a moment of silence before you spoke up.

“I love you, Peter.” you said to him as you cradled his face as you looked into his eyes.

He looked back into your eyes sadly and endearingly. “I-I lov-”

“Just wait,” You interjected. “Hold on to it and tell me when you see me again.”

“Sure,” Peter responded. “As long as you promise that you won't think I’m some creep and kick my ass.”

You let out a laugh and looked down at your chest for a moment before you pulled at the chain that was under your suit revealing your necklace. You hold it in your hands in a fist for comfort as you close your eyes and sighed deeply with determination. It’s the necklace Peter gave you when you first told you that he loved you. It was a silver spider necklace with two red rubies on it. You thought it was both sweet as heck and corny as hell, but that’s what you loved about it and that’s what you loved about Peter. You unclasped the necklace and looked at it for a moment before putting it in his hand and pushing his fingers down to his palm gently so he could hold it. He looked at you wondrously in response.

“Give this back to me once you find me.” You smiled softly. “I promise I'll remember you.”

The sky around you all began rumbling even more as the sorcerer did his work. The new spell was taking effect and you wish you could freeze time, just so you could memorize Peter’s face a little longer. Hold his hand a little longer. Kiss his lips a little longer. Although you never took for granted the time you both spent together, it still felt like there wasn’t enough time spent together.

Crazy how things can change in a blink of an eye.

You all looked at the sky for a moment before looking back to each other sadly and eyes full of hope that this was just some horrible, messed up nightmare. Peter and you met eyes and he pulled you into another passionate kiss and you returned the kiss back. After a moment he pulled back again, hating the idea of having to do it.

“I promise, I’ll give this back to you.” He whispered, trying not to cry.

“I know you will,” You smiled sadly. “Or else I’ll take it back from you instead.”

He let out a choked laugh.

“This isn’t goodbye,” He added. “Just a see you later.”

“I’ll see you later,” You choked out. “Call me around seven? The usual time?”

He chuckled. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ll explain everything then.”

He planted a long soft kiss on your forehead before he pulled away and stepped back reluctantly. You let your fingers glide along his shoulders and arms and hands as he moved. You both hesitated for a moment before you held each other's hands for a long moment before letting go. The feeling was heartbreaking, agonizing and agoraphobic. You wanted nothing more than to latch yourself on to him and never let go as if that would force you to never forget him.

You guys never broke eye contact for that entire moment as if you were trying to find a way to keep the connection between you two alive for as long as possible.

He sighed one last time and jumped onto the ledge you all were standing in behind and looked up at Strange, who nodded at him as a last goodbye. Peter had a knowing look on his face….a look of ultimate defeat and the acceptance of it. He looked back at you one last time, taking in your form like a photograph in his mind.

Although you would forget him, he would never forget you.

You mouthed “I love you, Peter Parker.” With a reassuring smile.

He gave you a sad smile before swinging off the edge. It all hit you right then and there and you let out a choked sob as you collapsed onto the ground and cried so hard you thought your body was going to explode. You had lost so much…so, so much and now you had to lose something else…someone else.

You don’t remember your friends trying to catch you when your legs gave out on you, you don’t remember the spell passing through you, and it only took a moment before you didn’t remember why you were crying.

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