Hiya! Welcome to my masterlist sorta thing. I kinda don't know what I'm doing but I'll try my best! :D
Intro!
Call me Melissa (it's not my real name i just like it)! I go by she/her and I do lots and lots of musical theater and orchestra. I really like to write, that's why i have this entire blog.
Fandoms I'll Write For!
Hadestown
The Great Gatsby: A New Musical
Shadow and Bone
ULTRAKILL
Iliad/Odyssey, however this will all be strictly platonic
Heathers
Ride the Cyclone
Rules
Will not write anything 18+
You may translate my works but PLEASE give me credit :D
NEVER EVER HESITATE TO SEND IN REQS!!
Genuinely i am starving for requests
What I will do
I will write fics that are rated general audience/teen
will do character matchups, just send me a lil snippet about yourself! Doesn't have to be super specific.
I will do moodboards/camera roll with specific characters
Jesper will hold his frail hand as he whispers a soft goodbye. Jesper will grieve. He will be buried in the backyard, in every painting, in the walls of the house because the house will forever be lined with him.
Jesper doesn't do grief easily. Wylan was so much easier.
And I think that
Jesper will have outlived quite a few of his friends, by this point. Wylan was always stubborn in living. Kaz was not. Inej was not.
And the thing about grief, is
It doesn't go away. Jesper will write letters to those who can no longer read them. Not for him, though. Never for him. For him, there is music. Jesper learned to play when Wylan couldn't hold the flute anymore, when his bony fingers couldn't press the keys anymore, when the house was too quiet and the canvases were empty.
And it hurts.
Jesper will lie in the backyard.
He will wait.
And I think that
One day
Jesper will die.
He'll go home to endless fields, sheet music, hollowed laughter becoming whole again.
Haiii!!! Can you write a Ricky Potts x reader where the reader is like really kooky and believes in very superstitious ideas or a reader that is a cat kemonomimi ^_^! anything you prefer!!! thank you!!! <333
A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQ!!!!!1!!!!!111!11! Anyways if you want anything tweaked pls do not be scared to tell me bc this is lowkey buns. UPDATE: posting will be slowed due to my recent influx of schoolwork, but it'll be back in business soon!
Playing: Be Safe/Be Good
Well, wasnโt this a lovely situation to be caught in.
You looked down at the eyelash, balanced gingerly on your fingertip, as you thought about your wish. Gosh, wasnโt this a challenge. The corners of your lips tugged downwards, why, you were perfectly content in this moment, yet you couldnโt just waste an opportunity like this.
By your side, Ricky was perched on the metal railings, absently tapping the metal of his crutches against the element-worn wrought iron of the St. Cassianโs gate. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking of all the things to be desired in the world.ย
See, some people did this just for the hell of it, yet something in you, some part that you swore belonged to Rickyโs Zolar, knew that this time it was different.
Clearing your throat, you gingerly sat up against the gates.ย
โSo, whatโs a good wish for two people like us?โ
He looked down from the cotton candy skies, eyes clear with curiosity, inviting you to go on without words.
You shrugged, looking down once again at the lash, casting a needle-point shadow over your skin.
โWhen I was younger, I would always wish for an older brother.โ
Ricky grinned, pulling his hands from his pockets to sign you a few words.
I always wished for more cats.
You rolled your eyes, remembering the starry-eyed fourteen year old Ricky, holding his tenth kitten as gently as he held his first.ย
โOf course you did, why else would you have fourteen?โ
He raised his left shoulder half-heartedly as he ran his fingers through his ruddy curls.
This townโs boring without something to keep you awake.
Boringโฆboring.
You perked your head up.
โYes! Thatโs a good wish!โ
Your shout sent a chickadee haphazardly crashing through the brushes as you scrambled up to sit by him.
Ricky looked at you wide eyed, seeming to agree with your small avian neighbor on the suddenness of it all.
I didnโt even make a wish-
You waved a silencing finger in his general direction.
โWell, all you did was spark my creativity,โ
You have no creativity.
Gasping, you feigned offense as you bumped your shoulder against his, marveling the way his eyes lit up with barely concealed mirth.
โWell, I could always wish for you-us-like I did when we were still tiny,โ
He snorted, nudging against you again.
Well youโve had me for a while.
You felt the corner of your lip twitching at his sweetness as unexpected yet as loveable as birdsong in a spring dawn.
โWhereโd you get that silver tongue of yours, Ricky?โ
Tongue?
โYou understand me well enough.โ
You readjusted your seating on the freezing railing, feeling it dig into the back of your legs. With a grimace, you readjusted yourself, shuffling Rickyโs crutches to the side as you tucked your head onto his shoulder. He seemed taken aback, yet didnโt oppose it, opting to press a feather-light kiss to the top of your head.
โMaybe Iโll wish that weโre like this in every universe.โ
Maybe weโre already like this in every universe.
โYou think so?โ
I know so.
You rolled your eyes, looking up at him with a cocky grin.
โThen Iโll wish for another cat.โ
His hands flung up, signing you a no so fast you almost toppled over.
โJesus-fine! Fine, no more cats.โ
Wish for something moreโฆimmaterliastic.
You thought for a second, gears churning in your head as you flickered through what you truly did want.ย
The answer was there all along.
โThen Iโm afraid Iโll be wishing for us to be happy.โ
It sounded so childish, then, but at that moment you didnโt care. All you could hope for was a chance to be drunk on life, to taste the bitterness in your cup alongside the sweet, and there wasnโt anyone youโd be more willing to do so than Ricky.
He nudged you again.
See? Not so hard after all.
So yes. You believed. Believed miracles, because under the Saskatchewan sky, with a shooting star blinking across the dark velvet sky, you knew that your wish could come true.
Warnings: mentions/implications of death, hurt no comfort, not proofread
Overview: In his final moments, Matthias dreams of you in his arms for the last time.
A/N: I tried making this one longer and sadder. Again, don't be scared to give constructive criticism and pick out any problems you see in my writing! Enjoy <3
Playing: Two Slow Dancers (Mitski)
He was dreaming againโฆ
His arms were around you, spinning you in a slow circle as the candlelight flickered, reaching up to brush gently at your cheek like some long lost lover.ย
Matthias smiled as your laugh rang out, pulling you close as you swayed like a pair of butterflies in the wind.
โDo you think we end up like this in every universe?"
He blinked out of his daze, brushing a strand of hair out your face.
โI donโt think, I know.โ
You had grinned then, the gentle curve of your lips in the low light etched behind his eyelids. He would think of it, every so often, when the weather got cold and frost sewed patterns on the windows of the slat.
Matthias knew if he could freeze in this moment, let this be the way time passed on from now to infinity, he would. He would trade his life, his heart, his pride to keep you this close.
You smelled like petrichor and sunshine and life, his pulse swelled as you placed your tousled head on his shoulder.
โStay with me.โ
He laughed, staggering as he tried to dance with you clinging onto him like some lovesick cat.
โIโm not going anywhere, rรถed fetla.โ
He swore he was holding his soul when he held you, like his were the arms that the whole world was in. Matthias had no words for the way that he felt, opting to spin you across the floor of their dingy living room, the crooked, tired building of the slat coming to life. It was as if the warped wood and the creaking stairwell was responding to you, bringing a light that he believed even Sankta Alina could not conjure into existence.ย
You had kissed him, then, promising to him a life that he let himself believe, for one fleeting, heart-wrenching, would be yours someday. Matthias cupped your cheeks in his warm, dry palms, gazing down at you with utter adoration.
โYou make it sound so simple, songbird.โ
โI make it sound simple because I know thatโs what fate has in store for us, Matt.โ
His nickname sounded as soft as Fjerdaโs summer sunrises slipping off your tongue. It reminded him of home, of sleigh bells and the cinnamon scrolls his mother baked on winter solstice.
Matthias leaned down again, lips almost brushing yours, breath mingling in warm puffs-
A sharp knock sounded on the door, and he groaned.
โDjelโs teeth-โ
Kazโs sharp voice was muffled by the door, something about a mission and his new labyrinth of a plan, yet Matthias couldnโt stop admiring the way the light cast shadows on your cheeks.
โWeโll be home safe before we know whatโs happened, rรถed fetla.โ
The gnawing pain, sharp as a Djel wolfโs bite, drew him from his reverie. The young drรผskelle, pale faced, wide eyed, stood shaking with his pistol clutched to his chest. Something warm and wet hit his face, achingly close to the April showers he used to run through with you, hair plastered to his brow that was softened by laughter.
Past the panicked voices and the shouting of orders, Matthias could hear the wolves-
He pressed his hand to his chest, brow furrowing in confusion as it came away red.
"No-"
Your sob ripped through your body, and Matthias reached out to you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
"No, no, no, no-"
You were a Heartrender, you could pull blood out of the veins, charm your way from Hellgate if you tried hard enough. So why wasn't he getting better?
You had an overwhelming urge to scream, demand justice, eat the heart of the world barehanded. Yet all you could do was watch your Saint of snow and winter fade away from you.
The boy who fired the shot couldn't have been more than sixteen.
"You're supposed to be dead, you're a traitor-"
His voice warred with yours in Matthias's remaining snips of consciousness.
"Don't you dare forgive him-"
"He's just a boy."
The tears burned hot down your cheeks, just hours ago so rosy and flushed in delight. You pressed your hands to his chest, willing his heart to keep beating just for a minute longer. You would defy death, you had to defy death-
Matthias watched you choke on sobs, his own icy blue eyes wracked with grief and so much love it wrenched out your gut and threw it in the depths of the true sea.
"Let me go, this is hurting you-"
"I don't care!"
The shout was a thunderbolt, a gunshot louder than the one that lodged itself into his heart where only you belonged.
"You promised, you big brute, you promised-"
He pressed your fingertips to his cold lips.
"You'll have enough for both of us, rรถed fetla, you'll have enough Fjerdan winters and cinnamon scrolls in the mornings to carry me with you."
He kissed you, soft and tender like he would ever be able to see you again.
"And its all because I love you."
He felt tears slip down his cheeks, drowned out by the rain, he hasn't cried since he was a little boy.
"Live for me, my songbird."
Then his heart-the one you stopped on the battlefields and the one you started with a kiss-fell silent.
The rain fell harder as a bell in the harbor chimed on, unforgiving, a sickening mockery of normalcy.
You wanted to laugh. No, this had to be some cruel joke, Matthias would spring up and take you in his arms, eyes crinkled as he promised to make you tea when you went back to your room.
It was almost childish, the way that you begged the saints long unforgiving. The grisha part of you screamed to make him rise, yank his ghost from the air and make this hollow carcass Matthias again. Yet that one human part of you realized something that sent your heart reeling.
Love can't be commanded:
It had to be let go.
So all you could do was press your forehead to his still chest and let your world shatter around you.
Matthias was dreaming about you again. But he was at ease. The wolves have called him home.
Overview: After entering this marriage of convenience, Kaz finally faces the knowledge that he loves you, and now must be brave enough to be vulnerable.
A/N: Baby's first fic! I might've mischaracterized him a lil because I'm still getting to know the Grishaverse better. Pls give feedback/corrections if you see anything that is funky in this! thank you for reading <3
Playing: Be-Acoustic (Hozier)
The Ketterdam air was stale. Stale to a point that even the ever-toiling waves of the harbor couldn't cover the stench of deceit slipping through the cobblestone cracks of the city.
Kaz Brekker stood, his brow furrowed in concentration as he pondered over the streets, lit ablaze by gaslights planted sporadically against the sidewalks.
His gloves were still on, dark leather molded to his skin, caressing each centimeter of scar tissue he was too proud to show the world and too embarrassed to call his own.
The door creaked open behind him, a knife-edge's worth of light chasing in behind you, clinging lazily to your sleeves as you stepped in, ever so comfortable to just...be in his presence.
"Kaz."
The sound of his name slipping from your lips jerked him awake from his reverie, the cold stoicism he wore like a costume slipping seamlessly back into place.
"What is it?"
He did not let his eyes stray from the stone of the curb, knowing if he let his gaze gravitate towards you, he would see everything he ever inconveniently loved.
He would see the way your hair curled by your ears, the way the moonlight pressed its cold lips to your skin. You would look ethereal, and he was not a man who could afford to fall further.
"You haven't eaten yet, Kaz,"
He scowled at the window, scrutinizing the way the curtains were shockingly orange against the cream of the wall. He would have them changed tomorrow.
"I'm not hungry."
"The human body doesn't exactly run on kruge and spite, Kaz."
The way you said his name made him shift uncomfortably. It reminded him of the Lij, long burnt away with disease, of the golden fields a boy once ran through, knees stained green from the grass and shirtsleeves torn from hauling himself up trees. Hell, sometimes he forgot that was him.
โI said Iโm not hungry-โ
His brotherโs face, the water was coming, it wrapped its cold embrace around his wool-clad shoulders, frozen fingers digging deep to the marrow of his bones-
Kaz shook the thoughts from his head; he wouldnโt let him break. Not like this. Not in front of you. Yet he was no fool; he knew you would see. Gingerly, he turned himself away from your prying gaze.
โKaz-โ
Saints, damn it all.
โWhat.โ
โYouโre-โ
โI advise you to stop talking.โ
He knew, saints, he knew. The way tears clung to his lashes, refusing to betray his dignity.
โGo. Leave.โ
Kaz met your gaze, steady as the warmth radiating from his hearth. You werenโt pretty, no โnot after a day of filth in Ketterdamn. You were beautiful, radiance shining from your depths.
He sighed, fingers tugging at his gloves. Time slowed as the pale expanse of his palm showed, upturned like a canine baring its throat. An olive branch, as his fingers gingerly reached towards yours.
The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, your pinky finger curled around his like a childish truce. You looked up at his face, hearing blood rush through your ears as his eyes met you, the slopes of his cheek glowing in the firelight, lashes casting shadows onto his hazel pupils.
It happened in an instant, his lips were on yours-chapped, dry from nerves-then he pulled away. It was as chaste as it was on your wedding day, vows made, and a ring slid on. All for what? For business, for the kruge that was like an addiction Kaz couldnโt rid. You regretted it, you regretted him-
His palm cupping your cheek jerked you out of your reverie, dark eyes meeting yours with a gaze that said everything.
I love you.
Iโm sorry.
And for the first time in a long time, Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel, let himself be pulled back towards sunlight, towards Lij, towards the life before the water.
