#SORRY I JUST NEED A PLACE TO LAY ON GROUND I JUST DONE RESEARCHING WITH MY DEMONS

[homiu-l]

Limbus Company: Canto 4 (2023) / The Wings - Yi Sang (1936)

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

Forgive the medical inaccuracies, I was writing this when I had no internet connection so there was zero research done. I spent half the time wondering if I even had the characters names correct 😂 (I in fact was not correct, I wrote nearly 2k thinking her name was Kinsley and had to correct, sorry if any mistakes slipped through)

This is for Locke & Key but you don't have to know anything about the series to understand this particular story. This is set post series, Kinsey is about 19 which if I remember correctly puts Tyler around 21-22? I don't remember exactly the age gap, but it's after the show so Tyler is an adult

Read on Ao3

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"-yler! Tyler, please!"

Tyler groaned as awareness came back. His head felt heavy and like it had been stuffed with cotton. Everything felt muffled, including his hearing as he only distantly heard someone calling his name. His mouth was dry and his eyes felt like they might as well be glued shut for how hard it was going to be to open them.

"Tyler, I need you to wake up, please wake up!"

Kinsey? There was an edge to her voice that he wasn't used to hearing anymore, a layer of panic bordering on hysteria as she called out to him.

He tried to turn towards where her voice had come from and groaned as the movement sent pain shooting through his head and neck, which suddenly made him aware of the various pains in the rest of his body. Something hard pressed into his shoulder and across his chest and hips, holding him tightly in place. Something else pressed against his shins and his arms felt as heavy as his head.

He opened his mouth, wincing at the lack of saliva and managed a whisper. "Kins?"

"Tyler! Oh my god, finally. Are you ok?"

He managed to finally pry his eyes open and stared blankly ahead for a moment, his lagging brain trying to figure out the picture in front of him. He sucked in a breath as it finally hit him what he was looking at. Directly in front of him was the deflated airbag from the destroyed dashboard of his uncle Duncan's car. Beyond that the windshield was shattered and the headlights painted a confusing image out of the freshly fallen snow on the ground, deep rivets casting shadows from where the car had ploughed through it.

And the world was upside down.

Tyler dragged his focus back to the interior of the car, trying to shift his body before realizing he was still tightly buckled into the front seat, his arms dangling above his head and resting against the roof of the car where a pool of red was gathering.

"Think I'm bleeding…" he said faintly.

"I know, it's from your head but I don't think it's deep. Are you hurt anywhere else? I need your help."

"I'm… not sure. Head hurts…" he closed his eyes for a moment, furrowing his brow as he tried to concentrate on the rest of his body. The seatbelt keeping him restrained dug into his shoulder and ribs and the joints of his hips, the pressure distracting him from anything else that might be wrong.

"I know Tyler, you probably have a concussion." Kinsey's voice was somewhere to his left, like she was near the driver's side window. "I need you to undo your seatbelt though."

"Seatbelt?" He mumbled, focusing on flexing his fingers and testing if he could even lift one of them to undo the buckle.

"Yes, undo your seatbelt and then crawl towards me to grab my phone."

"Where are you–" he started to ask but cut off as he turned his head to the side and caught sight of her. She lay in the snow just outside the driver side window, most of which was crushed and she could barely fit her head and shoulders through. She had wedged herself in far enough to reach their Uncle Duncan, who was still buckled into the driver seat beside Tyler. His arms hung limply like Tyler's, awkwardly crumpled on the rooftop above his head and blood ran down his neck and face, down to his hairline and then dribbling onto the roof of the car. Following the pool of blood, Tyler realized half the blood on his side of the car was likely Duncan's and not his own.

"Uncle Dunc?"

"He's stuck, Tyler. He won't wake up and I need you to come over here and call 911. I can't do it myself, if I let go he'll bleed out."

Worry for his uncle lit the fire under Tyler's motivation and he managed to fumble his fingers across the buckle. His weight on the belt made it harder for the safety contraption to cooperate, but it finally snapped open and the belt mostly recoiled as Tyler slumped to the ground. He choked on a scream as his shins scraped against the underside of the dashboard. His head spun and he lay there for a moment, heaving for breath and feeling like he might throw up, or fall off the planet completely with how dizzy the movement had made him.

"Tyler! Are you ok?"

He limply held up a thumbs up, which in the upturned car he couldn't really tell which way was up, for himself or for Kinsey, so it was somehow both a thumbs up and a thumbs down. Either way, appropriate.

He pushed himself up, gingerly twisting around in the tight space. The passenger window was smashed, mostly held together by the safety plastic and a light touch was enough to push it outside of the car so he had more space to manoeuvre, eventually he was able to settle in a position closer to the front window with his legs sticking out the passenger window. From there he could see both Duncan and Kinsey.

He choked on another breath as he realized why Kinsey needed his help.

Her phone lay on the roof of the car near her shoulder, just barely out of reach of the pool of blood. Her hands proved to be otherwise occupied, coated in red where she had them firmly pressing around a branch impaled through Duncan's shoulder.

"Oh my god…" Tyler breathed out.

"Tyler, look at me. Tyler!"

He dragged his eyes away from Duncan and looked at Kinsey. Her face was smeared with blood but he couldn't tell if it was hers or his or Duncan's at this point. Her gaze was firm and her jaw tight, she seemed to be alright or pushing through well enough to keep a grip of the situation.

She didn't wait for an answer. "I need you to pick up my phone and call 911."

"Y-yeah." Tyler tried not to look at Duncan or at the blood and gingerly picked up the phone. There was red on it too and he tried to wipe it off, only then noticing how shaky his hands were. He poked at the screen, confused when his password didn't work and the keypad jiggled on the screen.

"Just use the emergency call," she snapped at him. Oh yeah, it wasn't his phone… he clicked the emergency call button at the bottom of the screen and briefly contemplated where his phone might have wound up as he brought it to his ear and almost immediately someone was speaking in his ear.

"I– I'm sorry, say that again?" He asked.

"You dialled 911, are you okay, sir?"

"Oh, uh... no. We were in an accident." Tyler laid his head down against the roof of the car, exhaustion suddenly flooding through him.

"Can you tell me where you are?"

"We are… Kins, where are we?"

She turned her head, looking over her shoulder outside of the car and then back at him. "We were just getting to the edge of Boston." She rattled off the name of a frontage road and the last intersection she remembered crossing.

"We're at… Sorry, Kins say that again…"

The dispatcher cut him off, "It's okay sir, I heard what she said. I'm sending units your way, they should only be a few minutes."

Relief flooded through him and he sank further into the roof of the car. It was getting harder to keep his eyes open.

"I'm going to stay on the line with you. Can you tell me your name, sir?" The dispatcher asked.

"Tyler," he managed to mumble.

"Alright Tyler, my name is Ashley. Can you tell me about your injuries?"

"Uh, I think I hit my head. My uncle is stuck though, Kinsey is keeping pressure on his shoulder. If she moves he'll bleed out." His own voice was starting to sound distant and the phone was getting heavy to hold.

"Okay Tyler, is Kinsey nearby? Can you put me on speaker phone?"

"Sure…" he pulled the phone away and peered at the screen before poking the speaker icon. His hand slumped to the ground, limply holding the phone and all he could do was stare at it as the voice on the other end continued to talk.

"Kinsey, can you hear me?"

"Yes! I can hear you, how far away is the ambulance?" Her voice was loud in Tyler's ear suddenly and he groaned.

"With your approximate location they should be there in just under two minutes. Are you injured?"

"No, I'm fine. The car hit ice and rolled, I was in the backseat but I don't think I blacked out. Tyler was unconscious for about one minute and has a bleeding head wound. Our uncle Duncan has a tree branch through his shoulder, he bled a lot before I could get to it but I'm holding pressure."

"Good, you're doing really well Kinsey, don't move your hands and keep pressure on the wound. The EMT's will direct you when they get there. Tyler, are you still there?"

Tyler groaned in the affirmative, but couldn't gather any more energy.

"Kinsey, is there anyone else with you?"

"No, it's just me, my brother and our uncle. Tyler's eyes are half closed, I think he's losing consciousness again. Tyler?" She raised her voice at him and he raised his eyebrows in her direction but didn't open his eyes.

"My legs are cold…" he muttered.

"Oh my god." He heard Kinsey gasp. "His legs are bleeding. I didn't see them before because he was upside down in the car, but now he's half lying in the snow and there's red all around him."

"Okay Kinsey, the ambulance and firetruck should be there any second, you should be able to hear the sirens. I need you to keep holding pressure on your Uncle Duncan's shoulder, okay?"

"Okay. Tyler, can you talk to me please? You're scaring me."

Tyler furrowed his brow in confusion. "But you're not scared of anything…"

"Not anymore, remember?" He could hear the frown in her voice. "I am scared. I'm scared you're going to fall asleep and not wake up, so I need you to keep talking to me, okay?"

"Okay…" he whispered.

"Tell me about where we were going," she said. He could faintly hear sirens now.

"We were going to stay at Duncan's place this weekend…"

"Do you remember why?"

He frowned, trying to remember. "College?"

"Yeah, you were going to look at colleges again. And what was I going to do?"

Doors slammed and he could hear other voices and Kinsey's voice got distant as she turned her head away from him. He could feel someone touching his legs and one of the back doors opened and suddenly there was a firefighter crawling between the front seats and leaning over him.

"Shopping…" he managed to mumble out and the firefighter squinted at him in concern.

"Shopping is going to have to wait a bit, my man, we're going to get you out of here first, okay?" The firefighter spoke conversationally. "How are we doing…" he trailed off, raising his eyebrow at Tyler. Tyler only squinted at him in return.

"His name is Tyler!" Kinsey chimed up from the side.

"Thank you, ma'am! Okay Tyler, I'm Rick and I'm going to give you some fashionable new jewellery and ask you some questions, sound good?" He gently slipped his hands under and around Tyler's neck before slipping a neck brace around him and setting the velcro straps in place. He couldn't move his head even if he had the energy to try.

"Alrighty Tyler, how are you feeling?"

Tyler couldn't remember when his eyes had slipped shut, but he had to pry them open again to look at the man leaning over him. His hair was fiery red.

"Tired," he muttered. "Head hurts… legs are cold."

"Okay, that's good Tyler." He looked to the side, watching someone. "Can you tell me if you feel this?"

Tyler felt his foot get colder, as though his shoe had been removed and then someone pressed a knuckle against the bottom of his foot. He tried to nod before realizing it was futile with the neck brace. "Yeah, I feel some pressure."

"Good, that's good Tyler. We're going to bring a backboard over here and get you out."

Tyler rolled his eyes upward, trying to look up at Duncan. He still hung in his seat and he could see Kinsey's hands still in place. "Uncle Duncan…"

"Yep, he's next Tyler! We're going to get you out of the way so I can keep him steady while we get his door open."

Something nudged against his arm and Rick shuffled his knees forward, getting closer to Tyler and bracing his hands under Tyler's shoulders. "Alright, time to get you out of here. We're going to roll you over just for a second, okay?" He nodded his head in time with someone's voice counting from outside and on three, everyone lifted in tandem and he was briefly rolled onto his side and then back onto a backboard.

The motion made him dizzy and the world spun around him for a few moments and the next thing he knew he was loaded on a stretcher and being pushed into the back of an ambulance.

Different faces leaned over him and asked questions but everything felt like it was moving too fast, like he couldn't keep up with the plot and every time he tried to answer a question, a completely different one was being asked and he had missed his opportunity to answer the previous question.

He heard doors slamming just before Kinsey appeared above him, leaning into his eyeline.

"Kins…"

"Hey, I'm here Tyler, we're heading to the hospital."

He felt like he was swimming inside his own head, trying to keep sense of what was up or down or why he couldn't move, why he couldn't turn his head to follow Kinsey as she sat back against the wall, moving out of the paramedics way. Something else was missing and he wracked his brain for what felt off.

"Uncle Dunc?"

She leaned forward again and he saw worry etched in her face, chewing on her lip before she answered.

"They got him out and another ambulance already left with him."

"Good…" he muttered, trying not to worry about the time he must have lost somewhere along the way. It was getting harder to keep his eyes open and the light above him was bright, so he decided there shouldn't be any harm in resting his eyes for just a moment…

He heard Kinsey's voice calling for him and a flurry of activity just as everything went black.

---

I lost my creative momentum and also have zero medical experience, so I'm not confident I'd be able to bullshit my way through the hospital bit, but just know that they are all going to be okay lol

[chaoticgremlinwholikescheese]

What You Sacrifice

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Rape/Non-Con

Whump

Angst

Hurt/Comfort

it gets pretty dark but will have a happy ending

Everyone lives

Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley

Protective Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)

Established Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Protective Evan "Buck" Buckley

Hostage Situations

Kidnapping

It should be so simple. Boil some water, put the pasta in, and you're done. So how is it possible that Eddie is messing up pasta? He somehow managed to light it on fire. He's a firefighter for God's sake, he shouldn't be having this issue. It's as embarrassing as it is annoying. He just wanted to help Bobby, and now he's staring down at a pot of burned-to-a-crisp noodles.

"Bobby, I am so sorry."

"Don't worry about it, kid. I'll start a new batch. Why don't you go get Buck?"

Eddie easily takes the out. Buck and Chris are right, he's cursed in the kitchen. He finds Buck sitting on the couch with a book in his hands. It's a new one he started about frogs. He's reading it both out of interest and so he can help Chris with a school project. Back in his day, they had to dissect the frogs. Thankfully now they just have to do some research papers on them. Eddie always hated doing the dissections. Eddie collapses next to Buck, purposely taking up as much space as possible. Buck scrunches up his long legs and shoots him a smile before laying them on top of Eddie's lap.

"I don't believe in curses. But I'm seriously starting to think that I may have a kitchen curse."

"Oh, you totally have a curse. I don't think I've ever met someone who's failed at making pasta."

"I swear, if it weren't for you, Chris wouldn't know what actual food tastes like."

"Hey, he was subjected to your cooking for years, and he turned out just fine."

"But now he's corrupted by your delicious food. He'll never go back to eating my cooking again."

"Good. Cause that means you have a reason to keep me around." He smiles.

"Don't worry, I'm always keeping you around. You're stuck with me."

Buck blushes. Eddie loves that he can make Buck blush. It's adorable, the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears get bright red. And Eddie knows that the flush goes lower as well, but that's something to think about after work. Right now he has to stay professional. That doesn't stop him from giving Buck's leg a quick squeeze. Bobby calls everyone over for dinner. They all sit down at the table, Chimney immediately grabbing the pasta and spooning some onto his plate.

"I can't believe Eddie failed at making pasta," Hen laughs.

"He even managed to set it on fire. Isn't it submerged in water?" Chim adds before stuffing some food into his mouth.

"I tried! That's what matters!"

They playfully squabble through the rest of dinner. These family dinners are always nice. Filled with gentle ribbing, laughter, and good food. It's wonderful. Buck always finds himself at ease here. Being surrounded by love is one of the best feelings in the world.

They're halfway through cleaning up from dinner when the alarm rings. They quickly make their way into their gear and down to the rig. All of it is habit by now, done with ease and certainty. They even have assigned places in the truck. Buck and Eddie always sit next to each other, legs touching.

"We've got a call for a fire at an abandoned warehouse. Caller said they saw some flames, smelled smoke. The place should be empty, but we'll need to run through and make sure. Eddie, Buck, you'll do that while the rest of us get control of the fire. I don't know what's inside the place, so I want you to be fast."

They all nod at Bobby's words. The moment the truck stops, they hop into action. Buck and Eddie pull on their gear and run towards the flames. The door to the warehouse is already open, a loose chain hanging from the handle. The lock lays on the ground nearby. The two of them enter and call out. They receive no response. The flames are getting higher, igniting boxes of mystery things as it travels.

"LAFD! Call out!" Buck shouts again.

"Over here!"

The voice is coming from an open door on the other side of the room. It must lead to another section of the warehouse. Buck immediately runs ahead, Eddie quickly following after him. Buck bursts through the door. His eyes land on a man standing against the wall. He looks unharmed. He's about to ask if the man is okay when he sees the glint of metal. A gun emerges from the man's pocket, and he aims it at the center of Buck's chest. He puts his hands up to show he means no harm. Eddie bumps into his back, but stops when he sees the weapon. Buck can feel him tense.

Two more men emerge from the shadows. Both have guns. They cluster behind the first man, who seems to be the leader. He's wearing a navy coat. It's a brand that Buck recognizes but can't quite name. One of the other men has an eagle tattoo going up his arm, and the third one is wearing a stained jean jacket. Before, it could have been possible to take the boss down. But now it's stupid to even think of trying.

"Sir, we're here to help. We need to get you all out of here." Buck's voice doesn't waver. He needs to stay calm. Plus, it's not the first time he's been held at gunpoint. At least this time he's in a position where he can shield Eddie if he needs to.

READ THE REST ON AO3

[elsanna-shenanigans]

November/October Contest Submission #6: I Survived(But It Got Harder To Breathe)

Words:  894 Setting: mAU Lemon: no Content: MCD, talks of being killed/murdered(no details), body possession, some cursing and nightmares

Anna awoke with a jolt and clutched her necklace. It was her safety net. A way to keep her grounded and her mind occupied. After a few deep, calming breaths Anna looked around her bedroom happy to see she was in a familiar place.  

“Another nightmare?” Elsa questioned from the corner of the room. 

“JESUS CHRIST ELSA!” Anna screamed. “I told you not to do that anymore!” 

“Sorry for looking out for my little sister.” Elsa scoffed sarcastically. 

Anna grumbled “Yea well, thanks”  

Elsa raised her brow and glanced at the tv. “Another crime show? Anna, you can’t keep giving yourself nightmares like this. It’s not healthy.” 

Anna squeezed her necklace again trying not to cry. “Elsa please don’t lecture me, okay? I’m tired. I’m so tired. You’ve been dead a year. And yea, they caught the guy who killed you, but it doesn’t take away the pain. I’ll never get to hold you again, to hug or kiss you again, or even tell people that you’re still here in this house with me.” 

Elsa felt tears in her eyes. “I know sweetie and I know it takes a toll on you. I’m sorry. Did you want me to lay with you until you fall back asleep?”  

“Yes please.” Anna whispered as she pulled the covers back over herself. 

“You should really try something else as background noise. I don’t like seeing you like this.” 

Anna yawned. “I’m okay Elsa, just tired. Promise. I know you don’t sleep anymore but goodnight anyways. I love you.” 

Elsa smiled at her sister. “I love you too. Now sleep.” 

Even before she was murdered, Elsa protected Anna. It was her job as the elder sister to protect the younger one. Whenever Anna was picked on or outcasted by her coworkers or peers at school, Elsa was always there to pick up the pieces. When Elsa came out as a lesbian, it was Anna’s turn to protect her older sister as Elsa had done for her. Elsa looked at Anna’s necklace and smiled again. It was a gift for their first anniversary as a couple. That was five years ago. She’d been dead for one. The trial was hell on Anna. Every day she would come home and just collapse on the couch and cry for hours. When the jury had reached a verdict of guilty, Anna didn’t leave the couch for two days. It was finally over. But it wasn’t. Elsa was still stuck in the house and she didn’t know why. She and Anna had done extensive research on finding a way to get Elsa’s spirit to move on to the next stage of the afterlife. Nothing worked. Anna wanted to go to a specialist, but truth be told, Elsa just wanted to be with Anna. She didn’t care about the next stage. She cared about Anna and what was going to happen to her. Elsa was brought back to the present when Anna shifted in her sleep mumbling something. Elsa must have spaced out for a while because the next thing she knew Anna was thrashing around in bed screaming her name. 

“Anna wake up!!” Elsa yelled as she tried to touch her sister’s face but couldn’t. “Anna! It’s me! I’m okay, you’re okay!” It was no use. Elsa didn’t want to do this, but it was the only thing she could think of to wake her sister. She’d only done it once before and it scared the shit out of her. Body possession. Anna had found it in an old book about spirits and had insisted that Elsa possess her. She caved and possessed Anna’s body all of ten seconds before she quit. Now, it seems that’s the only option as Anna was not calming down. Elsa readied herself floating above Anna, did the incantation, and sunk into her sister’s body.  

‘First things first’ Elsa thought. She used her voice to sooth Anna. “I’m right here, I gotcha.” Elsa repeated. Next, she needed to get used to being inside Anna’s body. Anna was still moving around but not nearly as much which Elsa was grateful for. It made it easier to concentrate. Elsa remembered reading that you have to willingly spread your spirit through the body in which you are possessing. It took a bit more concentration, but she was able to spread through Anna’s arms and legs to calm her down enough to stop moving. Elsa just stayed there, spirit spread throughout her sister’s body, wondering when she could stop to make sure Anna was okay. Anna’s breathing was finally beginning to slow down. Elsa wanted to make Anna feel safe. She used all her energy in wrapping Anna’s arms around herself. To make it seem like Elsa was holding her like she used to. Doing so made Elsa sad that she couldn’t do this without possessing her sister’s body. She missed holding Anna most of all. How they would cuddle on the couch for hours on end watching movies. Elsa started to feel herself get angry at the person who killed her. How he took her away from Anna. He took her away from love and happiness. She was losing control of Anna’s body as she did. Elsa needed to get out and get out now. 

Anna awoke with a jolt. She felt arms around her and clutched her necklace. 

“Another nightmare?” 

[shoutaaizawas]

↳  keigo takami x fem!reader → ❝preening❞

summary: hawks loves your hair, playing with it, brushing it, washing it. you realize that it comes from another instinctual nature of his. you try to figure out how to return the gesture. word count: 2k+ tags/warnings: fluff, bird terminology, hawks being a birdman again  a/n: i don’t know much about birds but i’ll sure act like i do. this is sort of a sequel to shiny things but can be read alone

masterlist 

Hawks was obsessed with your hair.

When you convinced him to take a lazy day off you would lay on your couch and watch movies together, your head resting on his lap. Without a doubt his hand was always in your hair, brushing through it and braiding and upbraiding your hair. It was hard to focus on what you were watching not that you minded. You’d much rather give your attention to your boyfriend.

At night when you laid your head on his chest, he would always run his hand through your hair, nails gently scratching across your scalp. You always let out a sigh of content. It was impossible not to fall asleep when he did that

Anytime he caught you brushing his hair he would insist he does it for you and would offer to do your hair for you. Was he good at doing your hair? No. But in his defense, he tried his best and was getting better every time. It didn’t stop you from wearing said hairstyles out in public. The way he looked at you, so happy that you wore his work out in public more than made up for some of the odd looks you got.

When you had a bad flu Hawks was there for you to take care of you even though you insisted that he stay away for his own good but he refused. He brought you medicine, kept you fed (not his cooking, he couldn’t cook to save his life), kept you hydrated and pretty much waited on you hand and foot. He had even washed your hair for you. You were so exhausted you couldn’t bring yourself to do it but Hawks was more than happy to help out. The way he worked the shampoo into your hair was amazing. You were starting to think he was in the wrong career. It didn’t escape you that he enjoyed it too and since then he offered to wash your hair for you.

You should have realized sooner what the reasoning behind it was. You had been at a pet store to pick up food for your friend who was too bust to run by herself. It was hard not to get distracted by all the cute animals. The cockatiels caught your attention, one playing with a toy in the cage. It was hard not to think of your boyfriend when you saw any sort of bird.

But what caught your attention more was the two birds perched beside each other preening each other. It was so cute to watch and it took a few moments before it clicked in your head.

Oh.

Had Hawks obsession with your hair stemmed from an instinctual need to preen? It wouldn’t be his first bird trait you had discovered. How had you not realized sooner?

“They’re so cute aren’t they.” Looking up you saw the storekeeper standing there looking at the pair of birds. “They just preen each other all day it’s the cutest thing, they love each other.”

“They’re adorable.” You agreed to smile at her. “Is there a reason they do it?”

“Those two are mates, it’s part of the courting ritual but they still do it to show affection to each other.” She explained.

“Aww,” You cooed but you were trying to process it all in regards to Hawks. As you checked out and headed to your friends to drop the pet food off for her your mind was racing. Hawks played with your hair, braided it, washed it to show affection in his own way. That warmed your heart. Keigo never ceased to make you feel like the most loved person on Earth.

But you were concerned. Should you return the favor? Was it offensive that you hadn’t? Had you made him feel unloved? Sure, you loved running your hands through his hair but you didn’t do it as often as he did. Or should you preen his wings? Would that make him uncomfortable?

Sighing you figured you’d leave the subject for later, there was only so much you could accomplish right now. You would have to spend more thinking about it.

The conclusion you came to was that you should return the gesture. You hadn’t quite figured out how you would do that but you thought that then you would see an opportunity arise eventually.

Eventually came a lot sooner than expected. The day had come to an end and you were headed over to Hawk’s place to surprise him by making dinner. You knew he was home he had text you when he got off patrol. It was a surprisingly short day for him.

You had the key to his place so you let yourself in, placing the groceries in the kitchen. Looking around you didn’t see Keigo anywhere. A noise from the master bathroom alerted you to where he was. Walking in you hadn’t expected the scene in front of you.

Hawks sat perched on the edge of the tub, wings spread out his torso turned and hands moving through his bright red feathers. Well normally they were bright red, at the moment they were covered in mud. Keigo turned and looked at you like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Kei?” You questioned.

“Uhh, hey sweetie.” He said flashing you an innocent smile, wings fluttering but didn’t have much movement with all of the mud on them. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to make you dinner as a surprise.” You said staring at his wings, the feathers were sticking in different places in some areas. “What happened here?”

“Oh, it’s a long story. The short version is there was an incident with a mud puddle.” He said sheepishly.

“Looks like the mud puddle won that fight.” You teased. “How did that happen?”

“Villain in the park. The rain left it pretty messy out there.” He explained.

“Poor thing.” You said walking towards him. Standing over him you took his face in your hands.

“You can start dinner if you want while I finish up here.” He said looking up at you with soft eyes.

An idea popped in your head. This was finally the time.

“Can I help?” You questioned.

A look of surprise covered his face along with a light blush.

“You don’t have to-” He started but you wouldn’t have it.

“I want to if that’s okay with you.” You questioned. You knew that his wings were sensitive. You had avoided touching them too much not wanting to bother him. There was a chance he might be uncomfortable at the idea of you touching his wings.

You couldn't lie you loved his wings. They were so stunning, so unique. You could never look away and you had thought about running your hands through them more than you'd like to admit, learning every edge and curve of them.

“I don’t mind.” He said scooting over making space for you. Before you joined him you grabbed some clean washcloths before running some warm water in the bath. Sitting down you straddled the edge of the tub, one foot in the water and the other on solid ground.

With his wings over the tub, you wet the washcloth and held it looking at the brilliant wings in front of you debating where to start. It made the most sense to start at the top and work your way down.

Smoothing the cloth over the patagium, had you done a lot of research on the terminology of birds wings? Yes, your boyfriend had wings what else were you supposed to do? It was just a really just a fancy word for the skin that covered the top of his wings.

“Is this okay?” You asked. You could feel how tense Keigo was in front of you, you hoped you weren’t doing this wrong.

“More than okay.” He said letting out a sigh. “I’m just not used to anyone touching my wings.”

The mud there was mostly dried at the base of his wings and it took a few attempts to get it to loosen up. There was some mud that was especially stuck in his feathers, you applied a little more pressure earning a groan from your boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” You said pulling your hand back.

“Don’t be that felt amazing.” He hummed. He was starting to loosen up and feel more relaxed now.

You cleaned down the wrist of his wings and to the wingtip, once the top of his wings was cleaned you moved through the layers of coverts down to his secondary feathers. It was nice running the cloth through his beautiful feathers. As more mud was gone you let go of the cloth and used your hands to brush out the rest of the dirt. You were amazed by how soft his feathers were. Right now you would never think that they would be able to become so strong and dangerous. By the time you had almost cleaned off all of the mud, Keigo was nearly leaning on you.

“That feels nice, pretty bird?” You teased looking down at him as he rested the back of his head against your chest.

The last thing you expected as an answer was the soft coo that came from him.

Keigo’s eyes shot open and his face turned red with embarrassment as he covered his mouth.

“Was that?” You questioned but he cut you off.

“Please pretend that didn’t happen.” He said covering his face.

“How am I supposed to forget the cutest thing I’ve ever heard?”

“Stop teasing me.” He whined.

“I’m really not for once.” You said your hand covering one of his on his face, smoothing your thumb over his skin. “That was adorable. I didn’t know you could make noises like that.”

“I don’t usually.” He sighed, moving his hands. He sat up looked at you but kept your hand on his. “I used to do it as a kid when I got excited or if I was really comfortable. It’s so embarrassing I learned how to stop but I guess it just slipped out.”

“I love it.” You said you wouldn’t let your boyfriend feel bad for doing something that was natural to him. “Don’t ever feel embarrassed to do it around me.”

Keigo smiled at you, not a cocky smirk or one of excitement. It was gentle and soft, it made you feel like you were wrapped up in his arms.

“C’mon, let me help you dry them off.” You said standing up and grabbing a towel before sitting down on his bed. He followed sitting in front of you. In all truth, Hawks probably could have shaken his wing and had them dry in a moment but you weren’t trying to let this moment end. And you could bet that he was thinking the same thing. It never ceased to amaze you how something so simple could make you feel so much closer to someone.

His feathers dried fast and once they did you reluctantly put the towel aside ready to tell him you were done but he spoke before you could.

“Do you think you could-” He stopped for a moment before speaking again. “Uh, run your fingers through my feathers for a while?”

It was so rare to see Hawks anything but sure of himself. It was something you cherished, the thought that you could have an effect on him like that. Not to mention it only felt fair considering all the times he made you flustered.

“Of course, baby.” You said smiling at him softly. “Come here”

Laying down Keigo followed you, his body over yours. Resting his head against your chest he let out a sigh before you even touched his wings. His wings folded against his back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands reaching for the top half of his wings.

It was relaxing to run your hands through the way too soft feathers. You wondered if he used conditioner for them.

“I love you so much.” He sighed against your skin.

For Keigo, this had been the last thing he expected. He wouldn't lie and say that he never thought of asking you to help him clean his wings or even just run your hands through them. He thought about it a lot. More than he'd like to admit. But he was always so nervous that you wouldn't want to, or worse that his wings weirded you out. It's not like it was normal.

This small gesture had meant far more than you probably even understood. Not only was it a way for the two of you to grow even closer but it fulfilled the care that had never received as a child. His own parents had given him up and things had only gotten worse from there. He never had someone take care of him.

But now he had you and he promised himself he would do anything for you.

“I love you too, Kei.” Your heart never failed to flutter at those words.

You continued the gentle motion, hands brushing over the red feathers and at times between them. His wings relaxed and rested against him. It didn’t take long for the soft cooing sound you heard era lier to return. It was overwhelming the amount of emotion that flooded through you knowing that he trusted you that much.

Laying there with his weight and warmth against you along with the sound of his quiet coos it was hard not to get tired. His arms wrapped around you holding you close.

“I think we might need to order take out.” He mumbled against you, you could practically feel his smirk.

“Mmhm.” You hummed in reply. Food was the last thing on your mind. All you wanted to do was lay here with your boyfriend and never move again. A late nap sounded perfect. If you woke up at once in the morning and had to make a chicken nugget run, it would be a small price to pay to stay here with him and rest.

taglist:  @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis @kandy1410@moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bakugousidehoe@paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi@ourladyofseijoh  @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia

[yostresswritinggirl]

Genshin Boys would be Horrible as Disney Princes

Headcanon and Reader Perspective, Drabble

Sojourner Special (Followers Event)

Despite being the gentleman and sweethearts that they are, in the wrong hands, of badly aligned context and universal rules these boys can barely function as princes given their own ideals.

Diluc in Cinderella

Shortest one, oops.

Our Diluc would honestly be too busy for balls if we're doing this canonically, night time of all times. He's not your prince tonight, he's off somewhere doing Knight stuff...

If by chance you did catch him in the ball and he did indulge you with your dance until you escapaded at midnight, he's not gonna question it.

And since he didn't even REMEMBER your face, the next day just goes on as usual. No decree for searching the whole land for your foot or anything, it's just a normal day after a party.

"They left without a word, no name or promise, who am I to say no when they clearly don't want to stay?"

He's a gentleman. Too gentlemanly...

Childe in Sleeping Beauty

In this scenario, Childe embraces his knight-ness more than the princely aspect. I mean sure, he danced with you in the forest all so lovingly, sang along to your pretty lil voice. But when the prophecy came, his focus changed—

To the thrill of fighting a big ass green fire breathing dragon! Big woah, Childe had soooo much fun fighting it that he didn't even cheese it.

He lived for every hour of the fight and made it as slow as possible. Taunting, playing with his PREY- mid-fight the dragon would realize just how strong and horrifying Prince Childe is, but the entertainment had started, and the dance won't end until Childe wills it.

When he DID finally slay the damned thing, he'll come up to your quarters and stare at your sleeping body, and then think "Hey, if them being put under this spell gave me the fight of the century? What if ANOTHER dragon comes? That would be amazing!" No waking up for you, or the whole city for that matter.

Albedo in Frog Princess

You... You don't even get the chance to be the frog princess in here... simply because he himself REFUSES to change back to normal. You have never met a man so intelligent, much more a frog.

"I know of which you are not, I won't be fooled by cardboard crowns and secondhand dresses," you choke as he berates every fiber of your being, "It matters not, I still have much to learn about the life of an amphibian."

He disappears after that and you've never heard from him ever again, although at the back of your mind you're pretty sure he's a live and well, that bastard is too smart to end up as roadkill.

And well, you're right, he's out there in the world of frogs doing frog things. Triumphant over frog science and the other talking creatures he may meet.

He'll also find a way to revert himself back to normal, either making his own cure or just enlisting the help of a princess to bargain.

He might come to you upon the logic of marriage counting you as princess, but don't get too hyped, you won't be treated as his wife. He'd be too busy putting his frog research into paper...

Zhongli in Beauty and the Beast

A beast he may be, he's still dignified and elegant, upholding his end of the bargain so long as the other does the same.

Your father may have trespassed and have taken some flowers in his domain but well, really it's such a petty crime that can easily be solvable. And even if there needs to be punishment incured...

When you stumble to the mansion in search of your father, ready to take his place from his jail cell, you find him and the beast (ohh half-dragon Zhongles) by an elegant table drinking cups of tea with light conversation. Huh?

"There is no need to fret, your father and I are just discussing the terms of our contract. He spoke of his woodworks that I wish to commission in exchange, such good potential should not be wasted."

You can also, well, pay off things within contract? But either way, it would be hella awakward, he won't impose on your life and most certainly not about the curse when you had so much to live for.

Kaeya in Rapunzel

Little bitch, thru and thru. If Eugene is such a criminal, he's taking it TENFOLD.

He's not even gonna be the slightest bit trustworthy for you, little Rapunzel, because he raises so many red flags your frying pan wouldn't even be enough to threaten him. He probably has a really thick skull, and your resolve won't be able to smack that pretty face.

Bargaining won't work, he'd sleight of hand his way out and get the crown knowing you'd hid it in the pot immediately, and then just backflip outta there.

If you manage to get him to get you out, he's not gonna be of help either. Kaeya would be amused with toying with you, leaving you in the dark as you get scared shitless/dance around with some tavern criminals. Otherwise, ehh...

One way or another, he's gonna find a way to get you off his case. Either forcing you to travel with companions that's headed to the city anyways or forcefully knocking you out and heaving you back to your tower.

"You have a mother that never ages lock you up in this tower? Nu uh, sweetie, I'm not dealing with the dark forces of witchery when I'm already well off with the crown."

He got the crown.

Venti in Snow White

I'm sorry what? Free apples? Eternal sleep in a beautiful bed? He's gonna be glad to just take your place. (Spoilers, he would)

He'd be most definitely entertained with your dwarves, playing his tunes. You life would be filled with his lyre as he plays around, not even caring about the other implications of yours or his status in this woodland forest.

You ran away from home? Cool, freedom, man. Wish he could the same without jeopardizing the kingdom and his family. He'd probably take the apple too just for you~

During your rest, he'll come up with the most eloquent song to play for your seven dwarves as he watches your fate sadly. How peaceful you looked, away from the world and from the grips of death.

The dwarves would force him to please try and break the spell, and he'll shrug and indulge- except it didn't break the spell, as he expected it to be. And they are clueless on who else you had encountered in your life to even spare a true love's kiss.

"How saddening, the princess lays. Maddening to those around as they'd say, if only my kiss was enough for the curse to sway." You died, ouch.

Xiao in Mulan

Brutal. Brutal. Brutal. His voicelines would come in sooooo handy here, oh my goodness.

If you miraculously bypassed his analytical gaze enough to hide your sexuality, you're going to die in his training program. He's not gonna go easy on you, not when the fate of the nation lies upon your capability to keep up. You're gonna go through far worse than what true Mulan went through, and you may or may not just die in the process.

If by chance you survived, this would warrant enough respect to not kill you (oh, you lived) but you better not show up again.

He's never gonna be delighted to see your traitorous face again, he can save China on his own, thank you very much. And you know he can. Try and approach him, and a sword would be at your neck once again.

"Foolish gremlin, you think you had the right to present yourself after the treason you willfully committed? We won't crumble at the loss of one person, your job here is done." How sad.

Cyno in Little Mermaid

First of all, wack, mermaids exist! Sadly, that's nothing new for him. He knows a lot with that intelligent mind of his, so it would be no surprise that the existence of such mythical creatures doesn't make him bat an eyelash. He's been living near water, he's not that stupid.

With that in mind, your presence in your first meeting is going to be bad. Very bad. Cyno knows about sirens and he's not at all gonna fall for it, and if by chance he had known you before the ship was wrecked, he's probably gonna be veryyy keen in capturing you instead.

So if by chance you're stupid enough to interact with him and DESIRE to be on land with him, you're gonna deal with a lot of problems.

You're not getting that kiss easily. No, it's a huge challenge. He'd be repulsed in your naivety and will most likely be more concerned on your voice than ever. He'd be so kind to try and give a shot in helping with the cure but it's not the cure you needed.

He'll drown himself in every literature in full concentration just to see if there's any text he can find about curses and muteness. His curiousity would get the best of him, and you'll barely see him after you managed to explain your predicament without the need for words. Octopus woman doesn't even need to show up to intervene.

"A kiss? Surely not, such ailment won't be cured by fairytale methods." And then he goes back to his library once again. And you will be seafoam the next sunrise. Or was it sunset?

"So now that we've established these grounds," Exiled turns to the other two in the area, "Maybe, these boys would be better off as princesses."

And so the trio concocts a new type of fairytale, collaborated to masterpieces soon after.

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @struggljng @ellitx @kookieyachi @dandelion-dreams

[bumbleklee]

Bestieee reading your parenting headcanon lowkey gives me baby fever. Can I please get some hcs on Diluc, Zhongli and Albedo taking a lil family portrait. Aksjkakajaka it's going to be so cute :'D. Thank you for your hard workk <3333

sorry this has taken so long bff hope u enjoyed it

before reading: 100% sfw, cut for children/parental + length

diluc

he kins a frantic, middle aged white mom when family portraits roll around

he's so busy dressing the twins and getting them ready that he forgets to get ready himself and despite his efforts to be on time, your family is always late

diluc hired a photographer from mondstadt to come down to the winery for the day and the maids create a makeshift backdrop with the items around

this year, your twins are two and are making the family portrait quite difficult

For a moment, it was peaceful. Your family was positioned in front of the grape vines, a child in both you and Diluc's arms. The photographer only snapped one photo before a butterfly flew by and your daughter twisted her body.

"Come on..." Diluc pleaded softly, trying to turn her attention back to the camera. The little girl only whined and began to struggle even more in her father's arms. Diluc sighed and bent down, placing the toddler on the ground and holding her hands. "Mind if we take a quick break?"

With your daughter on the hunt for the butterfly that passed, your son craned his neck around. "Daddy?" He asked, watching Diluc walk away with his sister.

"Daddy will be right back," You tried, bouncing your son on your hip but the boy only whined similar to his sister. "Diluc?"

Soon enough, the tall man came back into sight holding a still-fussy toddler. "It flew away," He told you, resuming his spot next to you. "Let's just get these photos done with."

Only your twins got distracted by something else seconds later and wiggled their way out of both your arms again. Diluc apologized profusely to the photographer to chase down his toddlers once again.

The family portrait didn't come out good this year.

zhongli

when your second daughter is born, you're the one to suggest taking a family portrait to celebrate your family coming together

zhongli, being zhongli, decided you needed extravagant outfits, a professional photographer and a beautiful background and before you could complain, he had everything set in stone

shortly after sun rise one morning, your little family trekked to the guyun stone forest to meet your photographer

"Daddy, my outfit itches," Your older daughter complains. Zhongli is holding her hand and lifting her above any uneven ground. "Why couldn't I wear my panda shirt?"

"Your panda shirt isn't appropriate," Zhongli tells her quietly and you roll her eyes. But these outfits were just for a photo so you say nothing. Your younger daughter, who was only a baby, was sound asleep in your arms.

Zhongli leads you to the area and your photographer is waiting. You get started right away and sit down on the bench. He poses your family accordingly and you can't help but feel stiff.

You notice the four-year old squirming in Zhongli's lap, muttering about her itchy outfit again. You think nothing of it until she's leaping off his lap and nearly throwing her clothes off of her. Zhongli looks mortified and you hold back laughter.

He jumps up after her and tries to grab her but she slips through his fingers. The photographer thinks the situation is hilariously and snaps quite a few photos of the scene. Finally, Zhongli wrestles your daughter back into her traditional dress.

When the photos get back to you, you can't help but sneak the photos of Zhongli chasing your daughter around before he can get a hold of them and throw them out.

albedo

the day that your family portrait was supposed to happen, your son woke up horribly sick

he was throwing up, had a fever, and wanted to do nothing but stay in bed all day

and, of course, that's what you did

albedo still wanted something to hang above his research desk so when you brought your son out to the living room to lay on the couch with you, albedo observed you with his sketchbook

Your son had finally fallen asleep after hours of feeling miserable and you took advantage of the situation to cuddle up to him on the couch. A warm blanket wrapped around the two of you and Albedo placed a cup of tea for you on the coffee table.

"I'm sorry we couldn't do the portrait today," You said sweetly as Albedo took a seat in the armchair. A sketchbook and a pencil laid on his lap and he tied back his hair.

Albedo smiled at you, "We can do one anytime. He needs to rest."

You hummed in response and pressed a kiss to the top of your son's head. Your eyes eventually fluttered closed and you fell asleep. Unbeknownst to you, Albedo wasn't just drawing anything in his sketchbook.

He was drawing a portrait of you and your son for himself. He couldn't stop grinning the entire time, wondering how he got so lucky to be blessed by such an amazing partner and child.

When you both woke up some time later, a beautiful hand-drawn portrait laid on the coffee table. It was a million times better than any photo could ever capture.

[ellitx]

Beguilement | Albedo x Reader

Klee asks for Albedo’s help to make bombs with her.

word count: 2.9k

           “What are you doing?”

            Albedo peered at you from the corner of his eyes, raising an eyebrow why you were holding his cheek. His work ceased when he felt your warm hand touched his face, bringing down the papers on the desk.

            “What am I doing?” You echoed with a slight tilt of your head. “I’m checking if you’re okay. You’re overworking yourself again.” You sighed, placing your hands on your hips. 

            “I’m not.”

           He latched his gloved hand on yours and bring it down back to your side. “Hm…” Your [eye color] eyes had a tint of a doubtful frown as you pout. Seeing the Chief Alchemist stuck in his research lab worried you. It’s been a while since you’ve last seen him and that’s why you’re here today.

            He didn’t mind when you waltzed in suddenly while he was mixing different kinds of herbs. He knew you wouldn’t cause a ruckus inside considering how dangerous his and Sucrose’s works are.

            “Klee really wanted to play with you, you know.” You started and took a sit on a nearby chair in his workshop. 

            “And so are you.” He placed back the various types of equipment to their rightful place and chuckled when he noticed your cheeks reddened. 

            “I—!”

            “Albedo!!” The door slammed open surprising the two teens. The said male felt someone glomped onto his leg. He looked down and saw the Spark Knight wrapped her little arms on his leg so tightly, her ruby eyes scintillating so brightly that was donned with a big grin.

            “I saw the sign wasn’t in your door anymore!! Does that mean you’ll play with Klee?!”

            Albedo rested his hand on the top of her head but threw a confused glimpse at her. He’s a hundred percent sure last time he checked, the “Experiment in Progress” sign was still hanging to let everyone know he’s busy.

            His aquamarine eyes landed on you who was innocently reading his notes, awing at his written discoveries and sketches of a place you've never seen before. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, heaving a sigh. The Kreideprinz knelt down before Klee and ruffled her big red hat whose eyes were bright as the sun and smile so innocent.

            “Yes. My research is almost done so might as well take a break.”

            Your ears perked up at his words and lifted your head away from the notebook. “If that’s so, then I wanna make more bombs with you!!” The child tugged his lab coat and pulled him to the table, laying her hefty backpack on the chair. 

            She let out her collection of bombs to the Chief Alchemist and stretched her arms to showcase her invention. “Ta-da!! I tried to make a different Jumpty Dumpty!” Albedo placed his fingers on his chin as he inspected the object.

            You peered over his shoulder and eyes glimmered admiring the cute little red bunny device. “Woah!! This one seems different from your usual Jumpty Dumpty, Klee!” You leaned against him to get a closer look. 

            The blonde child giggled but let out a yelp when she felt that her feet weren’t touching the ground. Her small hands were now laying on your shoulder as you carry her small stature in your arms.

            The Alchemist’s focus was now on the timer hidden behind Jumpty Dumpty, surprising him. “It’s dangerous if we keep the bombs here. How about we go to Stormterror’s Lair to test it out?” His suggestion made the two girls looked at him with sparkling eyes and nodded eagerly.

            You put down Klee and helped her pack her stuff back inside her backpack. Both of you were chanting happily making the corner of his lips tugged upwards at the adorable scene. 

            “Well then,” He said, taking their attention. “Let’s get going.”

            Before Master Jean scolds us. He said to himself, sweat dropping.

            Both of you threw your arms in the air to cheer. Before you head off, you hung the strap of Klee’s bag on your shoulder and patiently waited for her to come to your side. She clutched your hand a bit tightly but one that won’t hurt you.

            Albedo took his own satchel and kept his notebook and some other materials needed in their experiment. He left a little note for Sucrose, letting her know he’ll be away for a while in case she goes looking for him. 

            Once he was ready, the two girls were already outside the room sticking around until he appears. Klee beamed in delight and grabbed his hand tugging both of you together. She was in the middle while you and Albedo were by her side.

            She started humming joyfully and marched towards the exit. 

            “Klee, Albedo, [Name], and Dodoco are off to Stormterror’s Lair!!” You chuckled at her cute declaration whilst she swung both of yours and Albedo’s arms, sauntering to the old ruins to do the experiments.

  —

             “We can try using flaming flower stamen.”

            “Oh, you mean those burning flowers?”

            Albedo nodded as he tinkered with the Jumpty Dumpties, and letting out the contents carefully on the cloth. 

            “There are few scattered around here, so it’ll be no problem for us to find one.” He lifted up his goggles, placing them atop of his head. 

            “Oh! Klee knows all the locations!!” The said girl jumped from her sitting position, raising her hand like how a student wants to be called by their teacher. “There are few around the lair and some almost at the end!”

            “Waaah!! That’s Klee for you!!” You praised her as you pat her head fondly. She giggled hearing your flattery and clasped your hand with hers. “I’ll go look with big sis [Name]!”

            “Ah, wait—!” But before the Chalk Prince can stop them, both of you were already running carelessly in search of the flaming flowers. He sighed in defeat and continued tinkering with the gadgets.

            Not even a minute later, he heard a loud KABOOM and the cries of the hilichurls in the distance. Several monsters flew in the air and slowly dropped onto the ground while some slimes were running for their lives.

            Thank goodness your vision wasn’t Electro or else the elemental reactions between yours and Klee’s attacks will cause massive damage to the ancient city.

            Sighing for the umpteenth time, his focus went back on dabbling with the bomb, pretending he wasn’t involved with their mischievousness.

  —

             “Oh! We should bring some bone samples for Sucrose for her research!” You exclaimed, watching the hilichurls’ bodies disintegrate in the thin air. You picked up the arrowheads and some horns from the ground left by the monsters.

            “Klee will gladly help big sis!” Your shoulders shake with laughter and ruffled her hair. “And I’ll happily accept your offer~”

            “I think she’ll accept anything as long as their bones, right? I did see some of her collections…” You muttered to yourself as you looked around the area to find anything interesting. 

            “Does fish blasting work as well to find bones?” Klee questioned innocently whilst holding her Jumpty Dumpties in her hands ready to throw them away. “No, Klee. Fish blasting is not good. If Master Jean caught us, you’ll be confined again!”

            “B-but… I’m sorry… Please don’t get mad at Klee.” She clamped her hands behind her back, eyes cast downwards turning glossy. Your heartstrings tugged and felt like an arrow pierce right through you, immediately feeling guilty at your words. 

            “Ah… Klee, I’m not mad! I was… I was worried about you, that’s all.” You raised her and carried the little girl between your arms and nuzzled your noses together. Her ruby eyes brightened up and giggled, slithering her arms around your neck to hug closer.

            “I can’t bring myself to get angry at you and Dodoco! I cherish both of you!” 

                      “Is big sis [Name] saying she loves me and Dodoco?” 

            “Absolutely!” You puffed your chest like a proud mom and rested one hand on your hips.

            “Klee and Dodoco love you too!!” 

            The two of you shared a few laughter and wholesome moment. From the corner of your eyes, a camp of hilichurls spotted you both, ready to attack. You shared a glance with the Spark Knight then smiled, sharing the same ideas. 

            “Hilichurl bones would be a good sample for Sucrose’s research!”

  —

             The Chief Alchemist was busy gathering glands from the frogs, carefully extracting the mucous from them. Others would be grossed out seeing this, but for him— it’s almost like an everyday habit for him to perform this.

            He became inquisitive and wondered where you and Klee are. You were just going to gather a few flaming flower stamens, why are you taking so long? 

            Too distracted from his concern for your state as well as Klee’s, he didn’t notice a figure creeping behind him. Albedo’s perception then blackened and a shiver ran down his spine when he felt something blew on his ears and whispered. 

            “Guess who’s back?”

            His fingers wrapped around your wrist and gently pulled down your hand back to your side. His eyes were met with your own [eye color] gems as you smiled down at him. 

            “You’re finally back.”

            “Bzz! Wrong!” Your arms formed an X, indicating his incorrect answer. The Chief Alchemist snorted at your childish antics, failing to see the Pyro-vision user jumped on him.

            “Albedo, Albedo!! We brought the flaming flowers! Oh, and we also got these!!” The child poured out all the contents inside her bag and showed them to him like she won the biggest prize. Various materials were scattered all over the ground; masks, horns, arrowheads, scrolls, and a bone…?

            “So that’s why both of you haven’t come back for a while.” He observed the items gathered together and nodded to himself. He didn’t dare questioned them what and why were there cartilages included. 

            His eyes caught onto the flaming flower stamen. The cores were still emitting heat even though it was already extinguished. This can be a good time to create a flaming essential oil. The needed ingredients were already here, all he needed to do was to create it using alchemy.

            Good thing they don’t need to come back to Mondstadt just to make a simple potion, as long as the Chief Alchemist is with you, he can create anything. He put out a portable alchemic table— one of his inventions— and commenced to perform his alchemy.

            You and Klee watched him crushed the stamen until it turned to small particles. He then poured the extracted frog’s gland and mixed it together. The scent was odd and strong making you almost puke. How in the world can this man handle the smell?!

            Klee almost looked like she was about to faint as she held on to your coat to maintain balance. Albedo apologized and told you you can take the mint grass inside his satchel to get rid of the smell. 

            Wow, he’s already prepared…

            It brought a smile to your face at the thought of it. You rummaged inside his bag and saw the mints were kept inside the ziplock pouch. You motioned for the little girl to come with you, straying away from the Kreideprinz’s works as to not ruin it, and opened the pouch letting the cool smell waft around you.

            You both breathed a sigh at the refreshing air, forgetting the awful smell that lingered inside you minutes ago. Albedo was already done making the essential oil and attentively spewed the liquid in one of Klee’s bombs.

            A small smoke emitted from it and he cautiously set the cover back to its place. 

            “Is it done?” You asked. The male shook his head and threw the device at an empty area to see the result. He told you to stay back as he used his geo skill to cast a shield to all of you. A sound of a clock ticking can be heard from it and the three of you patiently waited for the outcome yet nothing happened.

            “Did it fail…?” Your question was answered when you sensed the ground shook and a massive outburst greeted your view. Your mouth gaped open in shock and awe, watching many sparks flew in the air almost resembling fireworks during Ludi Harpastum Festival.

            Klee was the one who’s more amazed than you, her eyes wide open and crimson orbs sparkling in admiration at the tremendous explosion. 

            “Waah!! Klee has never created a big kaboom like this in her entire life!!” She faced Albedo and tugged his coat repeatedly. “Can you please teach Klee how to make that? Please please please pleeease with a cherry on top?”

            The male furrowed his brows, slightly troubled whether he should accept it or not. He was quiet for a while, still contemplating his decision. His eyes darted to where you were standing to ask for help but when he turned around, you were gone. 

            In his rear vision, he noticed you used your elemental skill to stamped out the burning grass. His face paled and heart raced when you knelt down and slowly approached the small remains from the bomb to touch it.

            Albedo immediately dashed towards you and extended his arm to reach for you. He screamed your name so loudly surprising you. You felt your hand heating up and your instincts kicked in telling you to run away, but even if you do so, a bright light has already blinded your eyes and ears ringing from the loudness of the bomb’s blast.

  —

             “What are you doing?”

            You peered at the male from the corner of your eyes, raising an eyebrow why he was holding your cheek. Your hands stopped midway from the plate when you felt his warm hand touched your face, bringing down the spoon on the table.

            “What am I doing?” He echoed with a slight tilt of his head. “I’m checking if you’re okay. Your face is red again.” He sighed and took out a thermometer to check the reading. 

            “I’m not!” 

            You latched your hand on his and bring it down back to his side. “Hm…” His turquoise eyes had a tint of a doubtful frown as he sighed. For some reason, this brought a sense of deja vu to him.

            Your behavior was odd after the explosion incident. You’ve been so cold towards him, making him slightly worried. He knows it was his fault that caused you like this, but he didn’t expect you’ve been so hostile to him these past few days.

            It’s like a sudden switch of personality.

            Every time he checks up on you, you just puffed your cheeks and turn your head. He asked the other Knights of Favonius about your condition and all they said was you were perfectly fine.

            How is this perfectly fine?!

            “[Name]!!” The door slammed open surprising the two teens. The said female felt someone jumped onto her bed, making her stomach hurt at the sudden weight. “Klee is so worried about big sis! When I heard you were sick, Dodoco and I were going to give you gifts! Klee thought you were fine yesterday. Diona even said she saw you going to the plaza—“

            “A-Ah— you and Dodoco brought me gifts? That’s so sweet of you! Ahaha..” Your nervous chuckle made the Chief Alchemist raised his brow at you in suspicion. You were fidgeting underneath the bedsheets and avoiding not looking at him in the eye.

            “Klee, what did Diona said about [Name]?” The girl’s attention went to him before she could rummage inside her bag. “She said that she saw big sis walking around the plaza!”

            “K-Klee!!” Your face flushed even more than before. You were stammering so much and you felt like the world was spinning around. 

            Albedo wanted to confirm his suspicions, and so he kept on pushing questions at the little girl, ignoring your attempts to shush him.

            “What kind of gifts are you going to give to her?”

            His question quickly made you sat up and threw your pillow to his face. “Th-that’s none of your concern!! It’s something private okay?!”

            “[Name] told me if I can give her the bombs you made to me. I tried to copy what you did and she seems satisfied with it!”

            Your hands were flailing in the air, not knowing whether you should continue pressing the pillow on Albedo’s face or to cover your face in embarrassment. You didn’t want to clasp your hands on Klee’s mouth to silence her, she might get hurt from your sudden actions!

            Bombs? What is she going to do with those?

            He snapped out from his train of thoughts then eyed you conscientiously. His brain connected the pieces of information together. The heat from your body, the smell of the mint grasses, and a faint of ash from it made sense. Especially how your body temperature dropped all of a sudden.

            He grabbed your wrist and intertwined your fingers together as he pressed his forehead with yours. The close proximity between you two made your head go blank and your attention was solely on his eyes, mesmerized by their colors.

            Klee naively looked at you two with a curious gaze.

            Your body heat skyrocketed and your lips quavered after his words reached your ears.

            “You know, you could’ve just told me you wanted me to take care of you instead of putting an effort to do this.”

            Your shoulders shook in aggravation and embarrassment, smothering him with the pillows to shut him up.

            “I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you!!!”

            Albedo just let your antics be, not bothered by the fact you’re slapping the pillow on him each word escaped from your lips. 

         His lips tugged upwards thinking he caught your trickeries once again.

 reader was pretending she's sick just so he can take care of her lol           

[fuckingthefictional]

Hi! I would like a request about Derek from teen wolf, please. The reader is trying to approach him, taking care of him "because Derek is too busy taking care of the others", BUT IT'S BEING SO HARD because of all of his past. Derek and the reader argue one night because of the overprotective nature of the reader about him, and when she tries to leave the loft, completely upset with Derek, he tries to fix things between them. Could you do this with a lot of angst and, then, tons of fluff? Thanks!

Ignored

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: Angst bbyyyy, and some fluffy goodness at the end, not checked over (so probably a crap ton of spelling errors)

A/N: hello hope you enjoy, sorry it took forever! I’m so busy with work, college and personal issues that writing has been put on the back-burner.

When the name Derek Hale was mentioned- one immediately thought of the broody, salty, sarcastic young man who lived by himself after the tragic Hale house fire.

Nobody would ever associate the name Derek Hale and caring. It just wasn’t in his nature. Because under no circumstances could Derek be remotely kind, caring or soft in any way possible.

That’s what people thought of Derek. But not you- or the majority of the pack for that matter.

Yes, you saw where others came from with their ideas and judgement (Derek’s lack of colour in his wardrobe obviously didn’t help either).

But to you when you heard the name Derek Hale, you immediately thought of the kind hearted man who would give up anything for the safety of his friends and family (as much as he claimed otherwise).

You knew him differently, you knew him like the back of your hand. You knew that his favourite food was Spagetti Carbonara without the mushrooms, that he didn’t like Coca Cola, that he secretly loved watching trashy tv shows like keeping up with the kardashians, and most importantly that he was running himself ragged.

He had bitten off more than he could chew when it came to helping everyone out. He was the one giving lifts and helping with homework and hosting pack nights, and handling Isaac’s nightmares, all of this happening at the same time as some supposed lizard creature being on the loose.

You had been ignored by Derek Hale for approximately 72 hours. Now this wouldn’t be bad if it weren’t for two things.

1. He wasn’t aware that he was actively ignoring you.

2. The idiot wasn’t your husband of 2 years.

Over 68 hours ago you hadn’t minded, you had even brushed the silence and distance off- knowing that Derek liked to have a little time to himself.

But when it hit the 5 hour mark of the 4th day, frustration and disappointment had begun to set in.

There was one more thing that made the whole situation worse. He was blatantly ignoring you- and only you.

It hurt. You could admit that to yourself easily without any qualms at all. It hurt.

Whether that was to do with the whole ‘mate’ side of things you didn’t know- all that you did know was that Derek Hale was drowning and he wasn’t going to swim until everyone else was okay.

-

Thud, thud, thud, creaak

“Der please sit down”

“I can’t. I gotta figure this shit out before the school finishes for the day.” Derek grunted from his spot in the middle of the room. His head firmly stuck in the thick, dusty book that he had been pouring through for the majority of the afternoon.

“Der please, take a break.” You pleaded with him, begging him to just stop for a second and relax.

“I can’t,” Derek murmured again, before he pivoted in his heel and walked away up the staircase.

His heavy footfalls retreated upstairs, the musty book still clutched in his grasp.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you willed the tears in your eyes to stay put and to not roll down your cheeks in fat drops.

Why couldn’t you be enough for him?

-

The next plea came around 2 hours later, when you brought a bowl of homemade pasta and garlic bread up to Derek. Hoping that just maybe it would strike up a conversation, that maybe he would utter more than two short sentences to you.

“Babe- I made you lunch.” You elbowed your way into the room, balancing the bowl and plate in your hands.

“Just leave it on the desk.” He motioned to an empty slot on the overcrowded surface.

“I just thought that maybe we could have lunch together, have some time with each-other.”

“Y/N/N’s I would- but I have so much to do. Stiles and Scott are already on my ass about the damn lizard freak in town.”

“Der, you need to take a break.” You placed your hands on his shoulders. Instead of feeling them relax you could feel his muscles tense up.

Shrugging your hands off, he pushed the fresh plate of food away, “I can’t.” He spoke simply.

“But-“ you tried to object in protest, trying to plead with the broad shouldered man in front of you- hoping that maybe, just maybe he would come to his senses.

He did not.

“I said no Y/N.” Derek ground out, “I’m busy. Please for the love of God stop bothering me.”

The words stung you, causing you to stumble back in shock. Derek had a hard exterior, everybody knew that. But he had never spoken like that to you.

He had promised on your wedding day that he would always be kind, that he would be your biggest supporter and largest source of love.

But all those words felt like lies now. You felt alone, like an empty shell of yourself. Why couldn’t you just be enough?

-

Hours flew by, the watch on Derek’s wrist occasionally beeping to signify the new hour. If he were being honest- he had lost track of what the time was.

The only signifier was that Stiles, Scott and the others were in his presence- meaning it was at least 4pm

And judging by the sky outside of his office window, it was late evening, as the sky itself had melted from cool blues into a fantastic array of oranges and purples.

But besides the low chatters and bickering coming from Isaac and Stiles, the house felt almost too quiet.

There was no tv hum coming from the living room, no occasional flush or running of water from the restroom, no sizzle from food coming on the oventop, no sound of a page in a book turning. Nothing. Just silence.

“Hey Derek,” He looked up to see Scott staring at him, “Where’s Y/N?”

“Well-“

“Yeah, I haven’t seen her yet today.” Isaac chimed in.

“I’m not actually too sure.”

Derek was met with a sea of blank stares.

“I’m sorry- there’s a kanima out there roaming Beacon Hills, the very same kanima that is killing more people by the day. And you don’t know where your wife is?” Stiles asked incredulously, “Are you kidding me.”

“Well I’ve been so caught up on this research that I haven’t been spending as much time with her.” Derek attempted to defend himself.

“Derek, please tell me that you haven’t been ignoring your wife.”

Everybody had there eyes on him again.

“Well-“

There was an uproar of protests, all of which were yelling at Derek for ignoring and deserting his wife.

“You better find her Derek, before something happens and you regret it for the rest of your life.”

-

You really didn’t know how long you had been out here for. All you knew was that the night was closing in and the chill was setting in your bones.

But you didn’t want to go back to the loft, you honestly didn’t think you could handle seeing Derek after his outburst earlier.

The cold, damp ground soaked into your body- sucking all the warmth out of your body at a creeping pace.

The spot you sat in, hadn’t changed much since your first date with Derek. It was still isolated and it gave off the best views in Beacon Hills. Nobody knew about it but you and Derek.

Sighing deeply, you looked out over the viewing point- watching the tiny specks of light flicker in the distance. Every single light showed a different life that was being lived, each one with their own struggles. Beacon Hills was something else to say the least.

“I knew I could find you here.” A familiar voice broke your train of thought.

You kept silent, staring straight ahead, willing that your bottom lip wouldn’t start trembling and the flood gate wouldn’t open in your eyes.

“Look I’m sorry.”

You sniffed, still unable to look your husband in the eyes, “Are you though?” You briefly shut your eyes to stop any tears from breaking through, “or are you just saying that to get on my good side.”

You could feel Derek’s presence settle down besides your own. His breath creating little puffs of mist under the dark sky.

“I didn’t realise you were trying to help me, until it was too late and you’d left the apartment” He muttered, “It’s my fault, I should’ve taken your advice, I should’ve listened to you.”

You listened intently, knowing his words were sincere and heartfelt, “Why didn’t you listen to me then Der?” You responded bitterly.

“Because accepting help means showing weakness, and showing weakness is something I haven’t done since before the fire.” Derek’s voice was small now, “Before I met you, accepting help was off the table- I was a lone wolf, with no pack or family. And now I’ve found you and I’m desperate to not lose that again, I can’t lose you to this new threat in town- I can’t be alone again.”

Silence hung heavy in the air as your husband’s words set in. It made sense to you; why he was studying non-stop, why he had barely slept or ate.

It was apparent that while he was trying to protect his loved ones, he was also pushing them away in the process. That needed to change.

“You won’t be alone Der,” You lay your head down on his shoulder, “I promise that much- it’s you and me forever.”

“Through every supernatural event that happens in this town?”

You giggled softly, “Yes, and every single thing in between.”

[skzsauce01]

Harmony

Synopsis: Dogged by a shameful past, you try to fit as your new identity in a new dance program at a renowned music conservatory. The school heartthrob and world-class violinist takes interest in you, which would be fine if he wasn’t also your childhood best friend.

Warning: hysterectomy, infertility, panic, mention of murder disclaimer: fertility does NOT determine your worth as a person

Word Count: 10.3k

Pairing: fem!reader x Kim Seungmin

There he is. Of course, there he is. Where else would the handsome prodigal son of the most prominent violinist go if not the best music conservatory in the country? You watch his bleached head of hair make its way across SKZ Conservatory of Music’s courtyard as fans flock him from behind. 

As for you, you sit on a random bench by yourself, waiting to start your first day at the conservatory’s new and nameless dance program as Emily Regan, not Y/N L/N, and most definitely not the gifted Kim Seungmin’s long-lost childhood best friend.

You must have stared at him too long, for he catches you and smirks. Blushing, you quickly clear your throat and head to class. He couldn’t have recognized you, right? No, you definitely look nothing like you did when you were six. If so, then why is he following you? You speed up, and while he makes no attempt to do the same, he surely is still on your tail. You turn the last corner and he does the same. You enter a room and take a seat. He— oh, you have the same class. First year literature. Just your luck. 

He walks by where you are seated and stops. “Hi there. What’s your name?”

You wish the ground would swallow you, but at least he didn’t call you Y/N or something like that.

“R-Regan. Emily Regan,” you mutter.

“Oh, American?”

You nod, still avoiding his eye.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Emily. I’m Kim Seungmin.”

He extends a hand out to shake, and you take it hesitantly. You aren’t sure you are on first name basis yet, but Kim Seungmin does what Kim Seungmin wants, you suppose.

“Hello, Kim.”

He smiles and takes the seat next to you and you wish you could disappear. But you can’t, so you excuse yourself to use the washroom. You thought you could get another spot when you returned, only to find him reserving your spot next to him for you.

The whole class, you do your best to focus on the professor, but he makes it difficult for you. He makes no effort to hide that he’s stealing glances at you, and fear creeps up your spine. What if he connects the dots and realizes you are your father’s daughter? He’d hate you, that’s for sure. After all you’ve done to him, it’s only natural.

You shake your head and he looks at you curiously. No, the one who did all that isn’t you, but Y/N L/N. You’re Emily Regan now. You just have to make sure you keep it that way.

Still, you’re glad to be able to see him again.

You know you should not be doing this, and there is no reason for you to potentially embarrass yourself even more, but you cannot help yourself. His pieces of work are right there, and his door was propped open so that you could see the music inside. So, you let yourself in.

Being the son of a major benefactor of the school, Seungmin has his own studio on campus. Instruments of all sorts line the wall and his Stradivarius violin lays on the table beside the draft of his latest composition. No one will steal it anyway; it’s chipped and insured. 

It does, however, mean that Seungmin probably just stepped out for a bit, so you’ll have to be quick. You look at his piece and hum the notes to yourself.

A small smile forms on your lips as you read the sheet. It’s a duet, and he’s only written the second violin part for now. 

This whole thing feels familiar. Reading music with him, cheek to cheek, is something you did often. In fact, that’s exactly what you were doing that day you got that call to rush home only to find where you once lived was turned into a slaughterhouse. Your fingers curl around your cardigan as you recall that day. It was Albinoni’s Adagio. You shake your head and refocus on the notes before you, humming a little louder to drown out your thoughts. You need to finish before—

“You have perfect pitch.”

—Seungmin returns.

You shoot up straight and turn slowly around. Seungmin leans against the door with his arms crossed.

“You have perfect pitch,” he repeats, walking over to his piano. He takes the sheet and plays it on the keyboard. “You weren’t even a microtone off.”

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t—”

He holds up a hand to silence you. “You’re a dance major, right? Do you play anything?”

You shake your head and lie. “Not really.”

“That’s a shame. Well, it’s never too late to start.” He picks up his violin and hands it to you. “Do you want to hear how the piece actually sounds?”

Your eyes widen at the familiar instrument and you visibly flinch backwards to which he raises a brow.

“Emily? Something wrong?”

“No, er, I, uh…” What should you say? “I’m alright. Thank you, and sorry for intruding. I need to use the washroom now.”

“Hold up,” he calls, effectively making you freeze in your step. “You don’t think you can just walk in here and leave unscathed, do you?”

“W-what do you mean?” you laugh nervously.

“You’ve got to pay the admissions fee,” he replies. “If you don’t play the violin, then here.” He hands you his music. “Compose the first violin.”

“What? I don’t even play!”

“You can try, or I can call security. You might even get suspended,” he smirks.

You open and close your mouth soundlessly. If you fail here as Emily Regan the dance major, then what will become of you? You have no choice but to concede and take the paper from his hands.

“Great. It’s only thirty-two bars, so bring it by tomorrow!”

“But I—!”

He takes out his phone and begins dialing the number for security while reading out each digit.

“Fine! I’ll do it!” you relent.

He grins victoriously. “Great!”

You frown at your new project. “But if I may ask, why the first violin? Don’t people usually compose both at once or the melody part first?”

“I like playing second best,” he answers casually.

This you remember from your childhood days, but that was long, long ago, and only because you always wanted to play first. His skills have improved tremendously since then. Anyone who calls Kim Seungmin a second violinist these days would surely be mocked. “Second? But you’re a renowned soloist!”

“I just haven’t found the person I want to follow yet.”

There’s a pain in his voice that makes you bite your own lip. Even if that person is still here, how can he, the prodigal son from the greatest violinist in the nation, stand next to, let alone play with again, the child of a pariah?

“I better get started on this,” you excuse yourself. You can’t bear to see the scars you left on him any longer.

Seungmin finds you the next day with your face on your desk. 

“Rough night?” he chuckles.

You pop your head off the table and swipe your hand over your mouth to rid it of any drool. At this point, you should give up ever looking good in front of the school’s heartthrob. 

“Here,” you cough, sliding over your work. “I’m forgiven with this, right?”

He hums approvingly and pulls up a keyboard on his phone. After playing it once, he shakes his head and pulls out another score and places it in front of you. 

“This won’t do. Try again.”

Your eyes widen. “But—!”

“You didn’t put yourself into this piece did you?”

How can he say that after you spent all night researching and writing drafts, trying to make something that wouldn’t disappoint the great Kim Seungmin? You open your mouth, however, no objection comes out. Something in you knows he’s right.

“Take your time with this next one. Just bring it to my studio when you’re ready, okay?”

You give a small nod and look at the paper on your desk with dread.

“But you did work hard on this,” he continues, “so here. A reward.” He slides a cup of coffee to you.  “Tell me what you like and I’ll get that next time.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to,” you say, a little surprised by the gesture. “This time or the next.”

“Oh, come on. A little boost is nice after a rough night, isn’t it? How many hours did you even sleep?”

Good question. You’re curious yourself. You went to bed at four and were awakened at seven by your bladder, so one, two, “Three.”

He looks at you weirdly.

“What?” you defend. “I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

“You’re not from America, are you?”

That came out of the left field. “What?”

“Americans count like this.” He raises his index finger then his middle and then his ring, counting a number with each digit. “But you went like this.” He holds up five fingers and progressively puts one down, starting from his thumb.

“I must have gotten used to it here already,” you laugh sheepishly. “Oh look, the professor!”

You feel his stare, but thankfully, he does not say anything else after the instructor greets the class.

The next attempt takes you eight days. You wouldn’t mind a little longer to work out the finer details, but seeing him in class pressures you to just turn it in.

You hold your breath as he scans over your new attempt. Your nervousness does not last long though as he does not even bother playing it and instead drops it right into the bin. He takes out yet another copy and slams it on the table in front of you.

“I really am trying my be—”

“That’s not what I’m looking for,” he cuts sternly. “Remember what I said. I want you in this piece. Not your best— you.”

“I—”

“No. Look here. Look at me. Focus.”

You gulp and do as told. His lips are pursed and his eyes intense.

“What do you feel?” His question sounds more like a statement.

“Happy?” you try.

He scowls.

“Sad?”

“No, you don’t,” he says. “Look at me. What do you feel?”

You rack your head for emotional words. What answer could he possibly be looking for? “Attraction?”

Seungmin breaks his seriousness and laughs loudly. “Attraction?”

“I mean, you have all those fans and the looks, wealth, and talent,” you try to explain, “so I thought you were looking for that.”

He pokes your forehead. “This isn’t about me or what I’m looking for. It hasn’t been since I gave you this piece. Think about it honestly. What does Emily Regan feel?”

Emily Regan? “Frustrated.”

Another shake of his head. “Deeper. Think. What do you feel?”

You bite your lip and flick your eyes to meet his. What do you feel? What do you feel, posing as a dancer here at SKZ Conservatory in front of Kim Seungmin?

“... shame.”

He smiles bittersweetly and hands you a pen. “Write,” he whispers gently.

You stare at the empty bars, pen quivering slightly above the page. Finally, you draw a small oval in a line.

You write and write, humming the notes to yourself and not realizing how time has passed. When you finally finish, the sun has already gone down. You look up and see Seungmin with his elbows resting on the table across from you and his hands clasped, not having moved a centimeter for the past few hours.

When you finally put down the pen, he turns the sheet towards himself. He stares at it for a good ten minutes before standing up with it and pulling out his Stradivarius. From his phone, he first records him playing his own composition and then plays yours over it.

The whole thing could not have been more than five minutes, but to you, it feels like an eternity. 

At last he finishes the piece with an up bow and brings his arm in a circle to his side. He stares at your work for a few more silent moments before saying, “Have you published music before?”

That certainly is not the comment you were expecting. “No?”

“It’s… familiar. I don’t mean the piece, but the style, it’s…”

“Well, do I pass?” you cut in before he can think too much of it.

He sets down his instrument. “It’s a little bland, but I'll take it. Good work, Emily.”

“I’ll be taking my leave then. Goodbye, Kim.”

“Wait—” He calls after you, but you are already out the door.

You speed walk until you are in the safety of a nearby washroom. You rest your back against the stall door and let out a sigh. Does he remember the amateur pieces you made almost two decades ago? Did you accidentally just expose yourself? No, prodigy or not, there is no way he can connect you to Y/N L/N just from thirty-two bars of music. At any rate, it’s best to lay low from him for now, you decide.

Laying low does not really work when you are one of the few members of the conservatory’s budding dance ensemble though. Seungmin is hosting a charity concert and requested dancers for his show. You manage to finish your numbers for the night without complications and are now waiting in the wings for the curtains as Seungmin begins his final piece.

You close your eyes and allow yourself to enjoy his music until something about the tune strikes you. Your eyelids flutter open as a familiar melody fills the auditorium. It’s your piece! Sure, he wrote it into a solo, but the resemblance is unmistakable. 

When he finishes, he bows and makes a speech. Your classmate nudges you to snap you out of your surprise and urges you onstage for the curtain call. The whole time, you stare at Seungmin, unsure of what to make of the situation. 

At the end of his speech, he gestures for the dancers to come forward. He meets your eyes with his usual smirk and grabs your hand for the bow.

When all is done, you want to find an explanation for that last piece, but your bladder demands to be released right at that moment. You’ve been finding yourself needing to go more and more or the area starts to hurt, so you quickly relieve yourself and speed out. To your luck, it seems Seungmin took his time packing up his violin; you see his silhouette just across the field from the performance hall.

“Wait,” you call out, running after him. He doesn’t hear you until you are closer. “Wait!”

Seungmin turns around as you stop in front of him, resting your hands on your knees to catch your breath.

“Emily?”

He takes a look at your state. You’re still in your costume from having rushed out, and your sheer asymmetrical skirt is doing nothing for you against the night wind.

He shakes off his coat and wraps it around you. “Are you here because of that last bit?”

You nod and stare at him, hoping your gaze draws an explanation out of him.

“It’s a good piece. I felt the need to share it.” He fixes the collar around your neck. “I know I should have asked first. I’ll buy you food sometime to make up for it, yeah?”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter that you played it; I just want to know why you did it.”

“I told you already. I like it,” he shrugs.

“You like Paganini. You like Strasate. Anything from them or even something you wrote would have made a better finish. Why this?”

“It’s a charity concert for the needy. Your piece had fitting emotions.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Is there really nothing else?

“Hold on.” He narrows his eyes back at you. “How do you know so much about composers?”

“I— It’s— This is a music conservatory! I’ve just seen their names around in murals and such!”

“Makes sense,” he nods.

“Good. Well then, have a good evening, Kim,” you bid, relieved, and begin to turn around.

“Do you want me to walk you back to the dorm? It’s quite late,” he offers.

You turn around but do not stop walking away. “I still need to change. Thank you though!”

It is only when you’re in the green room do you realize you still have his coat.

“Kim,” you call out, shuffling your feet quickly after him.

A wide grin spreads over his face as he turns around and sees your form. There’s a tuba on his shoulder. “Emily! Looking for me?”

You nod and thrust forward the bag in your hand. “Your coat. I came to return it.”

Seungmin dramatically wraps his hands around the instrument. “Oh no! My hands are full right now! Could you bring it to my studio in fifteen minutes?”

Your grip on the bag tightens in frustration, but he leans towards you, tuba looming overhead, and blinks thrice.

“Please? I’ll make it worth your effort.”

You fumble backwards, flustered, and drop your hand and the bag to your side. “Fine,” you relent. “Fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes,” he promises. As you walk out of the music hall, you hear a tuba playing fanfare.

Fifteen minutes later, you knock at his door which opens before you even finish your first knock. Seungmin greets you and gestures inside where a plate of mochi sits on his table with two cups of tea.

“Care to join me?” he invites.

You again hand him the bag and keep your feet planted where they are. “I think I’ll have to pass, but thank you.”

“Aw, don’t you like sweets?” He reaches for the plate and circles it around your face.

Still, you shake your head. “Again, thank you, but based on the last few times I was in here, I would rather not be.”

“I promise not to make you compose again. Just come in before the tea gets cold!”

“Why do you want me to anyway?”

“Huh?” His eyes widen at the question.

“I mean, other people have perfect pitch, yet you only sit with me to work through a composition. You sit next to me and buy me coffee and now you’re inviting me to tea. Why are you so interested in me?”

He tilts his head to the side. “‘Cause I like you, obviously.”

That sets off your alarms. Quickly, you dart your eyes around, looking to see if any of his fan girls are around to hear that and murder you. You then push him into the room and slam the door behind you.

“Excuse me, what?” you exclaim.

He sits by the food, crossing his legs. “I. Like. You.” he repeats slowly.

“B-b-b-but that’s impossible,” you sputter. “Curious? Maybe. But attracted to? No.”

He chuckles. “Why not? I mean, it did start out as curiosity, but the more I poked around, the more intrigued I became. You’re a woman full of mysteries, Emily. I like that.”

You put your hands in front of you and slowly back up. “No, no. No. No. There’s nothing to me at all. We don’t know each other very well. Of course a stranger is going to have a lot of unknowns. Once you get to know me, you’ll find that you’ve wasted your time and energy.” You like your acquaintanceship right now. Even being ignored by him is totally fine, but if he ever finds out who you are, he’ll hate you and spit on the person you’ve tried so hard to become.

“Oh really?” He stands and advances to you, making you shrink. “Then let’s put your theory to the test, shall we?” 

“What do you mean?” you gulp.

“You answer my questions and I’ll see if I still like you then.”

“Q-questions?”

“Yeah. We can go slowly if you’d like. Maybe one a day? How does that sound?” 

When you don’t respond, he begins. “Why do you seem so afraid of touching a violin?”

“I— uh…”

“Why did you lie about your home country? Why did you feel ‘shame’? Why did you sneak into my studio to look at my work yet claim to have no interest in music?”

With every question, he takes one step in your direction, finally backing you up against the wall. 

“And” —he lowers and softens his voice— “how does it feel to kiss you?”

“I’ll— I’ll—” You squirm in your shoes, head down and fists balled. The silence is deafening between your stutters, but he makes no effort to fill it, waiting patiently for your response.  “I’ll answer the last one,” you finally squeak.

“Alright then.”

You hear one of his hands pressing on the wall behind you and feel the other coming up to your jaw. He leans closer and closer and you squeeze your eyes tighter and tighter. You’re shaking so much, you can’t tell if you’re even still standing anymore.

His breath fans your lips as he suddenly chuckles and straightens up. He leaves a quick peck on your forehead and steps back.

“You don’t have to do things you don’t want to, Emily.” He has a soft smile which you stare at with surprise at the turn of events. “Doesn’t mean I’ll stop annoying the daylights out of you though,” he adds cheekily.

He slides the mochi back into the box they came in and hands them to you. “Go back to your dorm. Maybe we’ll continue our interrogation next time. Oh, and there’s a closer toilet if you turn right since you seem to go all the time.”

You stand there, mochi in hand, with your jaw opening and closing without any audible sound. He laughs again and turns you around towards the door.

“Go, before I poke you with my bow.”

Mention of a violin snaps your soul back into your body. “Okay, okay. Goodbye, Kim.”

“Thanks for returning the coat,” he calls after you as you disappear into the washroom on the left.

“Remember to choose a partner for this project. Let me know if you can’t get one by next week,” your literature professor concludes and whisks out the door.

You feel the entire room turn towards your direction no thanks to the one and only Kim Seungmin sitting next to you. He himself turns toward you with a plotting grin.

“Emily.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, pain rippling through your belly as you do so. There is no point resisting, and you don’t feel up to it today anyway.

“Are you free tonight? I’ll pick you up after your practice and we can get a head start.”

That night, you already know who has just arrived when the girls come squealing into the locker room. You couldn’t care less though. You try to rub away the pain that’s nagging at your belly and fumble around for some pain killers. You allow yourself five minutes after tossing back the pills, but begrudgingly drag your feet outside so as to not keep Seungmin waiting. 

He greets you with an electrolyte drink which you take and thank him for as discreetly as possible without catching the attention of his fans. He thankfully seems to take the hint and follows you outside, only fully approaching you when the last of the girls retreats back into the changing room.

“Ready for our project?”

“You’re awfully excited for homework,” you comment.

“It’s not just any homework.” He bumps you with his shoulder. At that moment, another wave of pain grips your stomach, causing you to stop in your step and bend over.

“Did I nudge too hard?” he gasps. “I’m sorry!”

You shake your hand. “Just… premenstrual cramps. It’s a little hard to manage these days,” you squeeze out.

He walks you to a nearby bench and kneels in front of you. He opens your drink for you and wipes sweat from your forehead.

“Are you okay? Do you want to go home and rest for today?” he asks worriedly.

“I’ll be fine in a bit; I just need the medicine to kick in. Sorry for delaying us.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He takes your hand and massages the pressure point between your thumb and index finger. “Is there anything you need?”

You assure him that you’re fine and can continue with the scheduled homework session which you know he cut short with one excuse or another. You two do the bare minimum on the assignment before he “realized” he scheduled an appointment to restring his violin. After Seungmin walks you to your dorm, you quickly put on a liner and head to bed.

That night, you learn that a liner was a mistake. You wake up as you often do by a call from the bathroom. Groggily, you swing your legs off your bed and are startled by a loud ‘squish.’ Too distracted by the gnawing in your pelvis, you think nothing of it, until you open your door and the hallway lights pour into your room, illuminating your blood-covered feet. With a gasp, you quickly turn around and see the trail of red behind you. You quickly reach for your heaviest pad only to be gripped with the worst shock of pain you’ve had yet. You fall to your knees then ultimately to the floor.

Waking up on the floor makes you forget where you are, and realizing that you are laying in a pool of blood and urine does not help. It takes a moment for you to recover from the shock the state of your room gave you, but when you do, you decide to get yourself cleaned up first then deal with the room later.

Twenty minutes later, you again face the disaster that is your dorm. Thankfully, you do not have literature today, so no one— and by no one you mean Seungmin— will notice if you take a day off to take care of it.

You begin pulling off your bedsheets to wash when you hear a knock at your door. You panic and look around. It doesn’t take a genius to know your room is in no condition for a guest right now.

“Emily?”

And of course it has to be Kim Seungmin. You freeze in your spot, not knowing what to do.

“Did she leave?” you hear him ask himself. This is good. You hope he leaves.

“I guess so,” he mutters. 

You hear some plastic shuffling outside and then his retreating footsteps. You breathe a sigh of relief which you immediately regret because of the pain that comes with breathing too heavily. Your periods have never hurt this much, you note with worry.

You return to your sheets until your phone vibrates with a notification.

Kim Seungmin- Lit [10:59 AM]: Hope you’re feeling better. I left some soup and food at your door since it seems like you aren’t home.

Kim Seungmin- Lit [10:59 AM]: Call me if you need something. Or if you need a ride to the hospital.

Hospital? You rub your abdomen, wondering if the pain warrants a visit. You take some more painkillers and eat the food before finishing cleaning your room. As you leave the washing machine running downstairs, you sit at your table after another washroom stop for a quick nap. You nestle your head in your arms and close your eyes…

… and open them a few hours later, feeling like you’d rather be dead. You can barely breathe and your room spins around you. You don’t even remember to grab your keys as you stumble out the door. Hospital, hospital. No, the hospital’s too far. The conservatory’s health center will have to suffice for now, and it’s only two buildings away.

You must look really unwell, for as soon as you step into the facility, there are already three staff members rushing to your side. You aren’t sure what happens next. It looks like your arrival caused quite the commotion, but all you can hear is Mozart’s Requiem playing somewhere. The world is closing in on you, and you feel your legs give out.

“Seungminnie…”

You wake up to the humming of machines in a hospital room. You realize they transferred you when you see an old lady sleeping in the bed beside yours.

Thankfully, you feel much better now, though you suspect it has something to do with IV connected to your wrist.

Seeing that you are awake, a nurse comes in to check your vitals.

“Are you feeling alright, Miss Regan?” she asks.

You nod and thank her as she replaces your IV bag.

“The doctor wants to see you in a bit for your consultation, but I need a bit of information from you first. We couldn’t find any family members attached to your name, so you’ll have to fill out some forms for yourself, alright sweetie?”

After making sure you are able to, she hands you a clipboard which you complete steadily until one section. “Emergency contact,” it reads.

Seeing your hesitation, the nurse chimes in. “It can be anyone. A friend, teacher, anyone you can trust just in case, you know?”

You smile politely. "May I leave it blank?"

The nurse looks stunned. "I suppose, but what if something happens?"

"You can call a lawyer."

She looks doubtful but stays quiet save for the few instructions she gives to reach your doctor’s office. As you walk there, you think about what just happened. Emergency contact? You'd just moved here for school. Your mother passed during childbirth, and your father— Emily Regan doesn’t have a father. There's no one you could have put down, you tell yourself. No one. Not even a certain overzealous violinist. 

You knock twice on the door you were told. 

“Miss Emily Regan?” the doctor greets as you walk in.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Nice to meet you. My name is Doctor Lee. How are you feeling right now?"

"A lot better."

"Glad to hear it. Please take a seat. Tell me, have you experienced frequent urination lately?"

You walk out of the pharmacy with a paper bag in your hands. Your heart drums in your ears but for a completely different reason this time. What will this mean for you? You’ll need to be resting for two months after the procedure, and as a dance major, this means you can’t attend class. Never mind its impact on your school year, what will this mean for your entire life? Your father has already tarnished the name Y/N L/N. You’ve tried so hard and lied so much just to make Emily Regan real. What have you made her into now? Dirty. Fiendish. Despicable. Even if you escaped being the daughter of the most hated artist who shamed his whole nation, you’ll never escape who you really are. And now this? Your hand unconsciously rises to your belly, rubbing it. It’s only further proof of what a defect you are. 

It is around four by the time you arrive back at the dorms. Thankfully, the hospital phoned your resident assistant who has your keys for you. You’re still distracted by your thoughts as you approach the building and nearly miss the man pacing up and down the front door.

Seungmin has his shoulders hunched and hands clasped together as he blows on them to keep warm, his grey cardigan not doing much against the evening chill. 

“Kim?” you call out, not believing your eyes. You are, after all, on a lot of drugs.

He immediately runs towards you when he recognizes you. You stand where you are and wait for him to come, now believe that he truly is here. Was he out here waiting for you? Your hand curls around your belly. He shouldn’t be wasting his efforts like this on someone like you. Never mind the faults of Y/N, even as Emily, you no longer deserve the love of someone like Kim Seungmin. You’d never wish for your childhood best friend to be with someone as flawed as you.

“What are you doing here?” you inquire as he stops in front of you, raising his hands as if wanting to hold you but is afraid you’d break under his touch.

“You didn’t pick up the phone…” he whispers. “You weren’t home and you didn’t pick up the phone…”

“I… had something going on.” You tuck away your prescription in your coat. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t—”

“Kim.”

“—the phone—”

“Kim Seungmin!”

His eyes look up to meet yours and you see the daze being snapped out of them.

“Huh?” 

You exhale sharply and repeat. “What are you doing here?”

“Your dorm doesn’t allow guys past twelve,” he replies matter of factly.

Your brows knit together. “You were out here for four hours?” 

He nods. “Where were you? You were sick yesterday, and now you’re off the map until four in the morning.”

You shouldn’t have snapped. You know what he means by his words, but you aren’t exactly having the best day, and Seungmin isn’t supposed to be here. You aren’t who he actually likes. You aren’t the six year old Y/N nor are you an ideal bachelorette. No, you are some imposter and you hate it. You hate it, so you state flatly, “Why does it matter to you where I was? If you’re worried about the literature project, then I’m sorry. I promise to finish it on time, but it was you who ended the homework session early yesterday, and as far as I’m concerned, we don’t have anything scheduled for today. Thank you for the meal earlier, but if stuff like that’s going to make you feel entitled to knowing about my every whereabouts, then please stop doing it.”

“That’s not what I—”

You close your eyes and let your head roll back. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, so please just leave me alone for a bit.”

You walk past him, expecting the conversation to be left at that. You hear him hesitating, which you also expect, but you are not ready for the:

“No.” 

Seungmin runs in front of you and spreads his limbs out, blocking your path. “You’re suffering. I don’t know from what, or if it’s even really period cramps, but you are. I’m not letting you do it alone.” He sucks in his cheeks as he tries to find his next words. You half expect him to take you to his studio and sit you down with a drink until you give him at least a hint of what’s happening, but he surprises you with, “I’m not saying you have to share it with me, but you need to have someone.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t,” he objects. “And trust me. I’ve seen a man try and it cost him his life and his daughter.”

The familiar story makes you freeze. Despite yourself, you ask, “Who?”

“My father’s best friend. The late violinist, L/N.” 

“T-the one who turned out to be a murderer?” Why are you saying this? Just leave him and go!

Seungmin approaches you now that you’ve stopped. His presence makes your eyes water. “He only got involved with the wrong people and ruined his name because he tried to deal with the grief of losing his wife on his own. He even hid it from his own best friend, and that’s how everything tumbled out of control.”

“And his daughter?” Stop it! Y/N— no, Emily, stop it!

“No one knows, though she could be dead. My father immediately sent out searches for her, but nothing ever came up.” His voice softens almost to the point of inaudible as he talks about her. “Father hasn’t played a duet since, and neither have I.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you say.

“Don’t be. You didn’t even know about it, so what could you have done?” he laughs dryly. 

The irony makes your toes curl.

“Just don’t make me watch another person go down the same path, okay?” he pleas gently.

Again, you should have done something else. You should just say, “Okay, I’ll reach out if I need it” and leave it at that. Instead, you turn to him and ask, “Can you play me ‘Méditation’?”

You watch his eyes widen at the ‘coincidence’ of your request, especially after that story. 

“‘Méditation?’” he asks.

“Yes. Massenet’s.”

He visibly takes a step back and you know why. After all, you’ve made this exact request a million times whenever you were left to sleepover at your father’s best friend’s house.

You wake up on the couch of his studio. Seungmin lays sprawled out on the floor next to you, violin on his chest and bow dangling from his thumb. You use the blanket he put over you to lift the ten million dollar instrument onto a table before he can roll over and crush it. You cradle the Strad, lifting it over its owner to the table on the other side.

“You know who composed ‘Méditation’ but you can’t touch a violin?”

The voice startles you, and you jerk backwards, stumbling back onto the couch. Once you’ve regained your balance, you glare at the man who’s still laying on the ground, moving only his eyes to look at you.

You sigh and pull the blanket over your head. “Don’t pry my secrets or I’ll have to keep avoiding you,” you warn.

“Oh!” he hums.

You pull the blanket back down and see him sitting up now with an arm propped on his knee. “What?”

“You finally admitted to hiding things,” he tells you.

“Everyone hides things.”

“But not everyone sucks at denying it.”

“Hey!”

He points at your jacket. “Your pill bottles are literally rattling with every move you make, Miss I’m-totally-fine.”

You wrap your jacket tighter around yourself. “They’re— they’re—”

“Pill bottles,” he insists. He folds his hands on the couch and rests his head on them. “Your inept lying is adorable.”

You groan and toss the blanket over his head. He tries to pull it off, but you clamp your hand over his to stop him.

“I don’t want to tell you this, but you did house me for a night, so you deserve to know at least this much, I guess.” Your serious tone stops his resistance attempts. “I’m scheduled for surgery in a little over a week. I’ll be in a hotel for two weeks after the procedure with a nurse since I don’t have someone to care for me during the bed rest period. It’s a relatively safe procedure, so don’t worry.”

Seungmin flips your hand over and grabs it. The blanket slips off his head and you are left looking at his glassy eyes.

“I…” He takes a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing. “I won’t ask you where you’re staying if you don’t want to tell. Just promise you’ll text after the surgery. Let me know that you’re still alive at least.”

You nod. “You’ll see me working on our Powerpoint for the project at least.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he tells you.

“I won’t be able to dance for a month and a half after this. My general education classes are all I’m going to be doing,” you assure him.

“If it gets too hard—”

“I know. Thank you, Kim.” 

You roll your suitcase off the bus. You aren’t sure if it is extra windy today or if it’s just your nerves, but you shiver as you stare at the hospital before you. You take a deep breath and take a step forward only to find your feet glued to the sidewalk. 

Just then, you hear a ping through your earphones. You pull out your phone and see a message.

Kim Seungmin- Lit [7:41 AM]: [get_well_soon.mp3]

You click into it and a piano and violin playing a familiar intermezzo fills your ears. You then look down at your feet and successfully lift one up and place it in front of the other until you are in front of the reception.

“Hello. I have an appointment under Emily Regan, and I'd also like to update my emergency contact information.”

After two weeks, you’re at last pushing open the door to your own dorm room.

You aren’t sure if it’s the morphine or the darkness of the room, but stepping inside after two weeks and seeing your curtains sway lightly in the evening air makes you feel emptier than you’ve ever felt before. Suddenly, your emotions overwhelm you all at once and you succumb to the floor. Your throat tightens and you wrap your arms around your abdomen, tucking your knees to your chest. You think you are crying, but you can’t be sure. The walls are closing in. You feel yourself being shackled by chains and no matter how hard you scream, no one hears you. Your voice bounces in your head like a ricocheting bullet and water is seeping in from somewhere, filling your nose and mouth, depriving you of air. All the while, your heartbeat echoes in your head.

Ba dum.

Ba dum.

Ba 

… dum.

With a strangled gasp, you manage to break one hand free for a split moment, and you immediately look for the remote that has called a nurse for the past two weeks. Of course, you are no longer at the hospital, so the only thing you grab is your phone.

“Seungminnie… Seungminnie, Seungminnie.”

You fumble with the device, but the chains are tightening around you again. Fog clouds in and you can’t see your phone anymore. You don’t even hear it hit the floor as it slips from your hand.

Ba dum. Ba dum. Ba dum.

Suddenly, you’re six again. Before you is the empty hallway of Violinist Kim’s mansion. Your plastic princess heels thunder with every step as you run down the hall.

Ba dum. “Seungminie?”

There’s no one there. Every turn you make just leads to another empty hall. The ground begins to morph, twisting and turning under your tiny feet. 

Ba dum. Ba dum.

The giant bow on your dress unravels and cinches around your ankle, and you trip and scrape your chin.

“Seungmin!”

“Emily!”

The ribbons shrivel. The chains clatter to the ground. The water drains. You gasp haggredly for air as your hands fly up to his shoulders for support. Beside you, your phone sits on the floor, his name illuminating from the screen.

“Emily, what’s wrong?” he asks, lowering his own device from his ear.

Your hands climb up to his face, cupping it. Your eyes are still glazed over. Blood drips from your lips from having been gnawed on too much.

“You’re… you’re not Seungmin.” You put your hands all over his face, feeling its features. “Or are you? No…”

“Emily—”

“Who’s Emily? You’re not Seungmin.”

“Stop biting yourself.”

“Seungmin’s not blond. Seungmin’s not—”

“Emily!”

“WHO’S EMILY?”

He freezes and looks at you. You’re drooped over at this point, defeated and tired. He then puts one hand behind you and pulls you into his arms.

“I am Seungmin,” he says gently. The vibration of his chest as he speaks lulls you. “I am Seungmin,” he repeats. “I’m right here. You’ve found me. I’m right here.”

Shakily, one of your hands reaches up and grabs his shirt while the other circles around to your lower belly.

“... Seungminnie…”

You’re in the furthest corner of the bed, staring at him. He’s just standing there, staring at you, juice in one hand and your keys in the other.

“So,” he begins. “What do you remember?”

“Nothing,” you answer truthfully. Your eyes shift to your desk where some medicine including a bottle of Kadian and a pack of birth control sit carelessly. “But I don’t suppose I had to say much for you to figure things out.” He’s going to leave you all alone now. Why is he even still here? He should realize how unsuitable you are for someone like him. There’s undeniable evidence in front of him now.

He clutches at his chest and scrunches up his face as a glaze passes over his eyes. He takes a moment before taking out one of the pills. He hands it to you with the juice, obviously having read the administration instructions.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “That and the frequent urinations. How much did they take out?”

You look away and your hand subconsciously reaches down. So he is still holding onto hope for some miracle. That’s why he hasn’t left yet. “Enough.” Now go, Seungmin.

He sits beside you, fiddling with the blankets between his fingers.

You break the silence first. “Don’t feel inclined to stay.”

“Huh?” he questions, looking up.

“I’m” —you motion downstairs— “you know. You’re here because you like me, right? Well, I can’t exactly produce an ideal family anymore. You should probably look for someone who can help you continue your and your father’s legacy.”

He looks more confused than you’ve ever seen him. “What?”

“I’m saying you should walk away now. I won’t hold it against you, so you don’t have to live with any guilt. I never considered our relationship possible anyway.”

Confusion shifts to anger. “You— You think I— I—” He struggles with his words after having been presented a scenario he’s never even considered. He exhales long and hard. “No. Just” —he grabs at an imaginary stress ball— “no. I’m not leaving, and you can’t make me. I don’t like you just because of your fertility. How could you think that? I don’t want a child. I want you. Do you understand? You! I couldn’t even sleep or drink for the past two weeks you were hospitalized, and the only time I could eat was whenever you sent a text or when I saw your little cursor on the Powerpoint. You think a surgery like that can weigh out whatever I felt that drove me to do this?”

“Still, I’m—” 

“Worthy, beautiful, and loveable,” he insists.

Those words are foreign to you. They’ve been long before you went to the hospital. How can he believe such things about you? Would he say the same things about Y/N? 

Seungmin sighs when you don’t respond and drags you closer. You don’t resist which he takes as a good sign. “So you don’t have to hide things from me anymore, okay? I’ll be here for you.”

You try to bite your lip only to find ointment there, so you play with a loose thread on your blanket instead.

“I… I’m already hiding a lot of things from you that I’m afraid to confess,” you admit. “Will that still be okay?”

You feel him nod. “Take your time. I’ll wait until you’re comfortable.”

You close your eyes and bask in his warmth. Will he really be okay if he knew he has in his arms the daughter of a drug addict murderer? Will he really be okay knowing you’re his “best friend” who left him without a trace for all these years?

You hope so. 

You want to believe so.

“It’s out! It’s out! It’s out!” you exclaim. 

“It’s just one grade. Relax,” Seungmin chuckles. Still, he stops playing the piano and swings his legs over to look at your phone.

“Not all of us have an established violin career to fall back on,” you remind him while logging into your account. You cover your eyes and hold the phone away from you as the page loads. “I can’t look.”

Seungmin takes the device. “I think you should.”

“Why? Is it good or bad?”

“We got a hundred.”

“We did?” You uncover your eyes. “We did! We did!” 

In your excitement, you give him a quick hug. He puts your phone on the table and drags you onto the piano bench. “You’re not doing anything right now, right?” He puts a simple piece in front of you. “Try this.”

“Kim, I don’t play.”

“It’s simple. Look.” He squeezes in behind you and puts your hand on the keyboard. “That’s middle C.”

He presses on the key and you scoff. You lift your left hand up as well and humor him. You’re definitely a bit choppy, but you make your way through the piece slowly and surely. Seungmin wraps his arms around your belly and rests his head on your shoulder with his eyes closed, swaying slightly to the music. When you get to the end, you lift up your hands and rest them on your lap.

“You’re just cuddling, aren’t you?”

He opens his eyes and looks at you. “Are you uncomfortable?”

Your eyes shift to the music. “No, I like it.”

You feel his heartbeat accelerating at your words. “So uh, you’ve played piano before, haven’t you?”

“Uhm. I played a few different things.”

“Violin?”

“That was my focus.”

He’s not surprised. “Were you good?”

“I was better than you,” you tease.

“Oh, really?” He jumps up and puts his violin under his chin in a challenging stance. 

You put your hands defensively out with a laugh. “That was like years ago!”

He wiggles his eyebrow and starts performing up-bow ricochet and left hand pizzicato.

You roll your eyes humorously. “We get it, Mr. World-class-musician.”

He laughs too and sits back down beside you. “Speaking of which, I’m playing with the JYP Philharmonic next weekend. You’ll come, right?”

You nod. “If I can manage to walk there.”

“I need to get there early, but I’ll have my driver take you.” He smiles widely. “You have to come, you have to. I have someone I want you to meet.”

“Who?”

He holds a finger to his lip cheekily. “Now it’s my turn to have a little secret.”

You fix the ribbon around your neck and smooth out your skirt as your driver comes around to open your door. You thank him and make your way into the building where Seungmin asked you to meet him. You hear him before you see him.

“Oh, she’s wonderful. She really is.”

There’s another lower voice that mumbles a reply you can’t make out. 

“Kim?” you call, approaching his waiting room.

Seungmin’s grin widens as he turns around and sees you. You, on the other hand, drop the chocolate and banana you brought for him when you see the other man in the room.

Seungmin gestures to you and looks at his companion. “Dad, this is Emily Regan, the girl I’ve been talking to you about. Emily, my father.”

Violinist Kim looks as shocked as you. “Emily… Regan?” His eyes narrow.

Seungmin furrows his brows. “What’s wrong, Dad?”

He doesn’t say anything and extends a hand out to you. “Nice to meet you, Emily Regan.”

You shake his hand uncertainly, unable to look at his unblinking eyes.

“Emily? Dad?” Seungmin looks between the two of you.

The older gentleman turns to his son. “See me for a moment.”

After Seungmin sits you on a couch, the two step out into the garden as per his request. You watch as Violinist Kim says something that makes Seungmin run a hand through his hair then stab them into his pockets as he slouches backwards. He replies with something that his father quickly rebuttals. What can they possibly be discussing? It’s clear Violinist Kim does not approve of you. Does he realize who you are? Or is Emily Regan the one he disapproves of? As a parent, it’s not uncommon to want grandchildren after all.

Suddenly, someone else bursts into the room. “Mr. Kim Seungmin, the conductor is looking for you!”

The stage worker is surprised to see only you in the room, and you inform him where the performers are. He thanks you and lets himself outside to deliver the message.

You stand as Seungmin and his father walk back in. Your friend pauses in his steps to talk to you.

“I’m sorry about that,” he apologizes. “This isn’t how I thought my dad would react to this. I’ll talk to you after.” He then spots your hand which has again found its way to your abdomen and frowns. “I swear that’s not something we talked about nor is it even something worth getting upset over, okay?”

You give him an assuring smile. “Break a leg.”

You watch as he hurries to catch up to the stage worker who is giving a briefing as they walk. You don’t bother to ask what is wrong. You can already tell from the cold eyes of Violinist Kim what is wrong. All you can do is wonder how much he told his son.

The concert goes well. You can tell that whatever happened with his father took a toll on Seungmin’s mentality, but his concerto was still dynamic and captivating. A few rows in front of you,  you spot Violinist Kim still nodding along to the music and supporting his son. 

After forty minutes, the house lights come back on and it is time for intermission. Seungmin is done with his concerto, so you go back backstage to see if you can catch him. You don’t have to go that far though. On your way, you hear a tree go, “Psst, Emily!”

You look and see him waving you over. He’s still calling you Emily, so that’s good, you note.

“Why are we out here?” you inquire.

He takes you a little further into the woods until he finds a boulder for you to sit on. He hoists you up so you’re comfortable.

“I thought I should clear things up before my dad talks to you,” he explains. “I’ve seen enough K-dramas to know what kind of headache misunderstandings cause.”

You nod, prompting him to go on. He does.

“You remember when I told you about Violinist L/N?” 

This sends your heart racing. Has he found out?  

“Well his daughter used to be my best friend. The thing is, my dad thinks you look a lot like her, and he thinks I’m only with you because of it.” 

Oh, it’s just that. Thank goodness. 

He grabs your hands, his eyes serious. “I just want you to know that no matter what he tells you, that’s not it. I like you for you, Emily, and nothing more and nothing less.”

You’re still convincing yourself that he isn’t aware of your past identity, and you must be making a face that he registers as doubt for he slides a hand up to your cheek, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Please believe me.”

You snap out of it. Of course you believe him, and it wouldn’t change much if he were in love with Y/N L/N anyway. However, you don’t miss the opportunity to ask, “What would you do if she is not dead? What would you do if she came back?”

“I’d celebrate her return. I’d grab lunch with her and introduce the two of you, but that’ll be the extent of it.”

“What if she’s been doing well all these years, and you were the only one left hurting and alone, wondering where she is? Could you forgive her? Could you accept someone like that, not to mention a child of a murderer, with open arms?”

Seungmin retreats his hand and frowns at you. “Why are you saying things like that? She’s my best friend!”

You grab his hand before it can go far. This time it’s your turn to stare him in the eye. “I’m not accusing her. I’m just asking if you, Kim Seungmin, would be able to forgive her in this scenario, and I’m not going to say that you’re right or wrong if you do or don’t either.”

“Then why do you ask?” His frown shifts to a perplexed one.

You let your hand drop to your side. “I… I’m in a similar situation. I don’t know if my friend will accept me if I try to reconnect.”

“Do it.” He has on a smirk now as he walks closer. “If it’s you, I’m sure she’d love to reconnect.”

You pout at his unsatisfactory response. “You’re just biased.”

Your pursed lips only makes him stare at them. “I sure am,” he mumbles. 

He again brings his hand up to your neck, index finger resting behind your ears. You can’t tell if he’s avoiding your question or just distracted, but who cares? You’re distracted now too. The woods are setting the perfect mood, and the orchestra is playing something romantic inside. Your eyelids begin to close. He looks at you one more time, his own eyes drooping.

“Is this okay…” he whispers raspily. “... Emily?”

Your eyes fly open and you shove him away a little harder than you intended to. This isn’t you. The person he wants to kiss isn’t you, and you can’t steal that away from him, even if you desperately want it yourself. You can’t have this. You can’t have him. It isn’t yours and it isn’t right.

He falls down and looks up at you, bewildered.

“I’m— I’m sorry!” you blammer. “I, uh, I have to go.”

You jump off the boulder and walk faster than you know you should post-op.

“Emily.” You hear his feet crunching leaves right behind you. “Emily. Stop. Emily. Emily. Emily.”

Why does he keep saying that name? 

You don’t turn back and you don’t slow down.

You hear him curse and speed up, which scares you, but before you can react, he sweeps you off of your feet and carries you in his arms.

“What are you doing?”

“Something you won’t on your own,” he replies vaguely. He storms to his green room and kicks the door open. He sets you down in the middle of it and pulls out his violin. “Play,” he commands you.

You shrink back at the sight of the instrument. It’s a glorious instrument carved from a choice tree and shaped over a careful flame by masterful hands, capable of drawing out the soul of its player. You know touching it will draw out what you’ve been working so hard on suppressing. You aren’t Y/N, daughter of Violinist L/N. You have no business with a violin. “I can’t. You know this, Kim.”

“You can’t play or you can’t admit the truth? Play, Emily.”

Wait, what?

He holds the Stradivarius in front of you. His tone is firm and his eyes are fierce, but he doesn’t hold the violin any closer than thirty centimeters away. He needs you to make this last leap.

“What do you know?” you demand.

“Play.”

“Tell me, what did your father really tell you?” you screech.

“Play.”

You begin shaking. The f holes are taunting you. You hear the screams of your father’s victims. You hear the TV reporters all cursing his name. They’re all inside there. They’re all inside, waiting for you to release them with your playing and eat you alive. “Kim, please.”

“Play.”

“No, I— I—”

“Play.”

He already knows. You’re sure he already knows, yet somehow, this still feels like a chasm far too wide for you to cross. Can you accept this violin? Can your past? Y/N is the child of a drug-addicted murderer. She’s a six year old whose own father bathed her in blood and blacklisted her existence. Can you accept Y/N L/N?

You look up at the deep brown eyes before you. You know he can.

“Seungmin…” you choke.

He lowers his voice and softens his gaze. “Play,” he tells you.

And so you do. You timorously reach for the instrument and perform Albinoni’s Adagio, the very last piece he’s heard you play. 

Tears roll down your face as your fingers fly across the board like you’ve played the piece all your life. You’re scared, you’re scared, you’re so, so scared. You didn’t even realize how hard you’ve been working to repress this part of you, and now that you’re facing it head-on, you don’t know what to make of it, but for once, it’s okay. Even if you fall. Even if you break apart, you finally have someone who will pick up the pieces. 

You play, and play, and play until you don’t know what to play any more, yet still you played. You don’t know how long it’s been, but you play until you can no longer lift up the scroll. You let the violin slip to your side and the bow clatter to the ground. A pair of arms wrap around you to stop you from collapsing. You close your eyes as one final tear makes its way down your face.

Seungmin presses your head into his shoulder. “I forgive you, Y/N, because I love you.”

<four years later>

You look onto the expecting crowd. Your heart’s beating quickly and the violin in your hands feels heavier than usual. Seungmin steps up next to you with his instrument. He adjusts your white skirt, his new golden band glistening under the lights as he does so.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

You smile at the familiar question. “Ready,” you reply.

He smiles back and lifts his Stradivarius under his chin. You do the same and he begins to play three one-eighth C’s followed half one. You feel his music envelop you. You close your eyes, place the tip of your bow on your E-string and let “Wedding March” flow from your soul.

A sense of peace overcomes you. After learning about your father, starting your life over, and losing your fertility, peace seems almost foreign to you, yet you’ve done it. Amidst all the chaos, you’ve finally found your harmony. 

~ ad.gold

Read it from Seungmin’s perspective here.

[pascalpanic]

Oooh the fluffy prompts are fun! Could you do “are you sugar personified or something?” with Javier?

Birthday Cake (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: Your best friend Javi, the storm cloud to your rainbows and sunshine, is celebrating a birthday today. Gotta cheer the grump up!

W/C: 1.9k

Warnings: language, Javi has dirty thoughts. of course he does.

A/N: idk I just think he’s neat 💖 thanks for the prompt!!

Few people know things about Javier that weren’t common knowledge. Most people know that his full name is Javier Peña, he’s from Texas, he’s fantastic at his job and he’s a womanizer.

You and Steve Murphy are two of the people with more knowledge. You know that he has a sweet tooth but doesn’t recognize it. You know his favorite brand of cigarettes, his favorite brand of whiskey, he always knocks twice in a quick succession on a door. He’s a wild card in the field, but he’s incredibly predictable around the embassy and as a friend.

You work as an Intelligence Research Specialist at the embassy, processing raw data and turning it into intel. This means you work closely with the agents, but Peña and Murphy are your favorites. Steve is the only man who doesn’t hit on you in the entire building, and Javier is the only man who can do it in a way that makes your stomach flutter a little.

You’re the go-to gal for the two mustached men. If they need data, you’re the one they find. And that’s often- the two men love to make impulsive decisions about fieldwork, and you’re the one who has to give them the grounds to go do things. You’re the one who decodes the wiretap that the agents place. You help with interrogations sometimes, and give the men recommendations on what they should do. It’s rare that any of them, besides Peña and Murphy, listen to you, though.

The three of you are the triple threat around the office; wherever you go, the other two men aren’t far behind. They follow you like ducklings to the mother bird with the information, the details, the who-what-when-and-where to their how.

The two men enjoy you too. Steve loves your baking. It reminds him of home. Javier, on the other hand, rarely comments when food is presented to him, but he’ll eat plenty of the sweet treats when he thinks no one is looking. Javier refers to you as a “ray-of-fucking-sunshine,” usually through a mouthful of whatever you baked last. Your positivity and energy is the complete opposite of his gruff demeanor.

Javier really likes you, more than he should. He wants you, wants to kiss you deeply and lay you down on his bed and absolutely destroy you. You’re just so fucking cute, always with that infectious good mood. You see the shit these men do on the daily, and you still seem almost naive. No, not naive. Just hopeful. That’s rare, and Javi admires it.

You like them, as more than coworkers, as friends. Steve is a funny guy. You like him and his wife, Connie. They’re good company. You live next door to the Murphys, which puts you right near Javier too.

Javi, you two called him outside of work. He had a dry sense of humor, and was hard to pull away from the job. They both were. You were better at compartmentalizing than they were. He was handsome and flirtatious, but you figured he’d never like you. Too different of people.

The three of you shared details of your lives at work. Steve would talk about his adoptive daughter’s latest milestones, about his wife and his arguments. You and Javier didn’t have much to share. Your heart twinged every time Steve mentioned another hookup Javier had had.

Something about him is magnetic. Javier makes you grin and giggle and shy away but come out of your shell at the same time. But of course, you’re coworkers and friends. Just friends. It would be impractical to think that you could be something more, if he even wanted to in the first place.

November rolls around in Colombia, and with it comes Javier’s birthday. November 8th, in a year he refused to tell you. Steve told you later. The Murphys and you are the only people aware of this. Javier doesn’t like a fuss to be made over him. Of course, knowing you, a fuss is the only thing practical.

It’s a Sunday when Javier turns a year older. Connie and Steve are doing something with their daughter, probably. Javier doesn’t have friends besides you or Steve. That motivates you to go even grander.

You wake in the morning with a grin. November 8th. After taking your time waking, you find your way to the kitchen and begin the process. You lovingly fold the dry ingredients in a bowl, then add the wet ones. A beautiful looking cake batter forms, and you dare to lick the spoon once the cake is in the oven. It’s good.

As it bakes, you hum to yourself and find your way to the phone. “Murphys,” a sweet voice rings out. Connie.

“Hey lovely,” you say with a grin. “Is Steve home?”

“Yeah, what’s up? Please don’t be calling for work,” she says, even though the tone of your voice indicates it isn’t.

“Oh, no. I guess you’d know: it’s Javi’s birthday. The two of them doing anything tonight?”

“I completely forgot,” Connie gasps. “But no, not that I’m aware of.”

“Just checking. Thanks, girl.”

“Yeah, any time.” Connie hangs up right as the oven beeps that the cake is done.

-

A knock comes at Javier’s door in the evening. He opens it to find you with a beautifully iced cake, a bottle of whiskey, and a grin. “Happy birthday,” you say as you see him, and his neutral expression grows to a small smile.

“You know I hate birthdays,” he chuckles lightly.

“That’s too damn bad, because I love them. Do you have any plans for tonight?” You ask him.

He’d been considering calling up one of his girls to fuck until he forgot his name or how old he was getting, but he’d much rather be with you. “No,” he shakes his head.

“Wanna share this cake and whiskey?” You ask, hope in your eyes as you lean forward a little.

Javier laughs.

“Are you sugar personified or something? Come on in,” he says and moves to allow you in. You set the cake and whiskey down on his counter and immediately head for a cupboard where you know he keep the plates. “Thank you for this.”

“Of course. It’s my best friend‘s birthday, gotta treat him.”

“I’m your best friend?” He asks, somewhat in disbelief as you return with two plates, two forks, and two glasses of whiskey.

You shrug. “Of course you are. Who else would it be, Steve?” You snort as you sit at his table and he sits across from you.

“Just… no one back home?”

You give him an honest smile, your perky demeanor dropping. “No, Javi. You’re my best friend. I genuinely enjoy you as a person. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.”

You sigh and reach for your purse. “You’re a piece of work, Peña,” you sigh as you stick a couple of candles into the cake. You don’t smoke, but you carry a lighter for Javier and Steve, which you grab from your purse and use to light the candles. “Okay. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” you sing softly to Javier, grinning and looking into his eyes.

He doesn’t deserve you, he thinks to himself. Someone so beautiful and kind and yeah, beautiful, so stunning, and yet you never go on dates or hook up with anyone, even when it’s so easy. Why? He selfishly hopes it could be because of him.

“Happy birthday dear Javi… happy birthday to you.” He knows the drill. He blows out the candles and they go out easily. “What did you wish for?” You ask sweetly and quietly, slicing into the cake.

“Can’t tell you.” It was you. He can’t tell you that not because he fears it won’t come true, but because he fears what could come after it.

You sigh. “You’re impossible,” you tease and scoop a slice, handing it over to him. He pops the bottle of whiskey open and pours a glass for each of you.

“You’re the impossible one. All sunshine and rainbows in the middle of a fucking drug war.”

You shake your head as you scoop yourself a piece. “Someone has to be. No one else was taking the job. You think I enjoy it? I get pissed sometimes too. I hide it.”

“You, angry? I’d like to see it,” he shakes his head and takes a bite.

Rolling your eyes, you take a bite of the cake too. “Hiding my feelings for the good of others since the day I popped out of the womb.”

His face softens. “Hey.”

You shake your head. “Sorry to be depressing. It’s your birthday, after all. How does it feel to be a year older, hm?” You ask, trying to put the facade up again. It only half works.

Javier sets down his fork. “Hey, brillante.” Shiny. “I know you have more feelings in there. Tell me them.”

“Since when have you been one for emotions, Javier?” You ask dryly and raise an eyebrow.

He nods. “That’s fair. But you can tell me anything. I’m your best friend, right?”

Sighing, you look down at your plate. You don’t want to admit that what you’re thinking about is how you don’t want him to be your best friend, you want to love and adore him and be more. Lovers, partners, anything. “Hey. Answer.”

The frustration gets you and you snap. “I care about you, Javier. I like you. I think about you a lot. As more than just a friend, really. And I shouldn’t, because we’re coworkers and friends.” The words flow before you can stop yourself.

He’s taken aback. He certainly didn’t expect that. “Oh.”

You bite your lip. “That’s exactly why I held that in for so long. Because you responded like that. It’s not your fault, either, so don’t say that, that you’re sorry you don’t feel the same, that-“

Javier stands and walks to your side of the table. He squats to your seated height. “Look at me.”

You do, albeit in a confused way. “Yeah?”

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I’m about to do this for me and me alone, because I know you want to do it too.”

“What?”

He kisses you, cupping your face in his hands. He tastes like frosting and whiskey and cigarettes and oh god, it’s heavenly. His calloused fingertips against your cheeks, his warm and plush lips against your own. He means it, you can tell it. He breaks away, breathing heavily. “Hey. My ray-of-fucking-sunshine. I want you, I’ve wanted you for a long time now. Since I first laid eyes on you.” He brings your face close to his. “Never hold it in again.”

You close the gap between the two of you, kissing him again. Hard. Passionately. You hold the back of his head with one hand, the other snaking around his shoulder. You stop for a second and stand, and he follows. “Goddamn, you really are sugar personified.” The gap closes between your lips, from mutual movement forward, into another needy kiss.

You throw your arms around him, making a soft noise of need into his lips. “Javi,” you shudder as his lips trail to your jaw and then to your neck.

“Got my birthday wish.”

[ohworm-writes]

Could I request sniper mask with a s/o who had a tubal ligation b4 coming to the high rise world? Like would he be protective of her? Would he walk slower for her to keep up cuz of the pain? Would he look for some pain meds for her? Would he ask the emotionless masks for something to help? Would he find a comfortable place to sleep? Just something sweet and heartwarming.

I just had my surgery today and I need something to help distract me from my pain😖😭 my poor tummy hurts, but I'm still happy I did it😄😁

High-Rise Invasion/Tenkuu Shinpan: Sniper Mask Boyfriend Headcannon

high-rise invasion/tenkuu shinpan masterlist

‼ Sniper Mask with a s/o who had their tubes tied (tubal ligation) ‼

Featuring: Sniper Mask, Yuri Honjo, Mayulo Nise (implied), Kuon Shinzaki (implied)

Warnings: spoilers for High-Rise Invasion/Tenkuu Shinpan, mentions of pills/pain-relievers, mentions of surgery

a/n - thank you so much for the request mate! i had to do a bit of research before writing this (and i was asleep when you sent it in) so sorry for the wait! i hope your surgery went well and that the pain subsides soon enough!

content below the cut!

when you first came to the High-Rise world, it had been a little under a week since you had your surgery

you were healed for the most part, but side effects from it still lingered

it hurt to walk most times, you had constant cramps, you felt dizzy sometimes

it really sucked

thankfully, a few hours upon your arrival, you met up with Yuri's group

she had offered to let you join her friends in getting out of this world

of course, you were thrilled. you didn't want to stay around murderers longer than you had to

but, of course, you told them about your surgery, and how you worried you could become a dead weight on their operation

after some reassurance, you joined them, finding yourself with Sniper Mask more often than not

he was whipped, easily, and quickly became protective over you

he was extremely anxious when it came to you

he didn't want to risk you pushing it or being put in harm's way

when you opened up to him about the side effects you had been experienced, the worry only grew

he stayed at your side as often as possible, slowing down his pace to not rush you

he didn't have a problem with walking a bit slower, as long as it would help ease the pain somewhat

never lets you carry anything

it's a bit frustrating, yes, but again he doesn't want to risk anything

he's worried about you, and he wants to take away any unnecessary possibilities of pain

onto the topic of pain medications

when the pain gets really bad, he'll give you some Ibuprofen

he always makes sure to have some on hand (this being a bottle or two)

whenever he gets close to running out, he either does one of two things

one, he'll start scavenging

he'll go from one building to another with the single goal in mind of finding something to relieve your pain

he'll make a mess where he goes, apartments upturned, furniture flipped, whatever he needs to do to find it for you

or, two, he'll try to go to the emotionless masks for help

they already bring everyone food and weapons, so they must be able to have some medication on hand, right?

surely enough, they do

they usually hand it over without a second thought

at first, he tried to threaten them, but immediately felt bad when they just silently handed it to him

either way, he makes sure he always has medication on hand for you

switching over to the topic of comfort

he always tries to make sure you're wearing something comfortable

something that doesn't restrict you or rub up against your stitches

usually, this results in you wearing baggy shirts and pants or warm sweaters

all gifted to you by our lovely sniper himself

when night rolls around, he always tries to make sure you have a bed to sleep in or something that isn't on the ground

he'll give you any blankets he finds

usually, he just sits against something and dozes off

but for you, he'll lay down and hold you until you fall asleep

he usually falls asleep first though

on the off chance, you guys have to sleep outside

he'll have you lay on him and cover you with a blanket

granted, it's not the most comfortable, but it's better than the hard concrete

backtracking to him being protective

he's very wary of letting anyone around you

the girls you two travel around with being the only exception

he'd kill any mask who even dares coming close

and it doesn't even have to be relatively close

if another mask is in his line of sight, they're done for

when you eventually do recover fully, he doesn't let up being by your side

still protective as ever, but he knows you can handle yourself

he just doesn't want you to be alone doing so

[sweetwolfcupcake]

Allurement: Waves

Yandere Namjoon x Reader

The scantily-leaved trees held on to the last of their dying offspring. But the west-winds seemed to be unbothered, trying to tear away those leaves from the branches as the rest, hued in dull to bright shades of nature danced along on the ground.

And a few crushed beneath (Y/N)'s shoes, it would have been a fun activity: crushing dried leaves under her shoes. But she was rushing towards the car waiting for her.

"So quick!" Park Jimin, as sweet and polite as the man could be, was no less a sassy hellion if he required to be. And of all, he loved to sass around her the best. But most of the time, he did have a good reason to.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I woke up late." (Y/N) was quick to apologise, as she passed him a sheepish smile while taking a seat beside him.

"You are lucky that I like you, besides, we can always drive a bit faster, or take the shortcut? So do put on your seatbelt." he smiled at her before the car roared to life and the wheels came to life and the car went off.

It had not been too long since she had begun working under Mr Kim as his secretary, temporary secretary. About three months or so. But the previous autumn, when he had put forth the proposal of giving her the job, it did not feel long ago, while in reality. it had been a year, a whole, complete revolution of the earth around the Sun and there she was, riding with Jimin to her workplace- the Kim Group of Companies' headquarters, where the respected young CEO sat and operated from.

And within a year, nothing seemed to have changed, the water of life seemed to be stagnant. But she could feel the change, deep, greater changes like upheaval in the ocean, the waves, gigantic, monstrous, terrifying. Threatening to drown her. There was so much that had changed.

Park Jimin was a great company and an excellent friend. She had found out soon after the bond of friendship had been established between the two.

Kim Namjoon was an excellent boss and that, her job as his secretary, as reasonably draining, had so much to learn from. She admired Miss Choi for her efficiency, (Y/N) had so much more to learn, both from her job as well as her employer.

And she also discovered, gradually of course, that behind the all too sophisticated, groomed gentleman laid a clumsy gentle giant who would often burn his fingers trying to make himself a cup of coffee, or even trying to pass on hot food and drinks to her. And it was devastatingly endearing.

But most of all, (Y/N) had learnt that her mother was dying. The illness was eating her mother away, chipping away her health and endurance and there was nothing (Y/N) could do about it, nothing could prevent the inevitable. So she made peace with the fact, even though she knew that deep within, she was dreading the day her mother's sunken eyes would close for eternity. But she came to accept the fact that her mother could not be saved. All she could do was to make peace with the tragedy of life, that lied within the shortness of it.

So on the surface, (Y/N)'s life was calm and stable as a lake, yet the giant waves of changing wind terrified her under the same surface.

----

"You have a meeting with the lead investors this morning, the files and reports have been arranged at your desk." she listed off from her phone gifted by the company. It was not the day's schedule, a day in Kim Namjoon's life was nothing if it could not be defined as 'busy', it was the first half of a typical Monday morning in the company.

As soon as she was done, which was rather quickly, she placed a cup of steaming brew in front of her employer- double expresso with two cubes of sugar- just the way he liked it. Mr Kim smiled at her appreciatively. It was one of the many things she liked about him and admired. He never took his employees for granted, he had never failed to let her know that he appreciated her efforts to keep his day running smoothly and sorting things out for him.

"Thank you (Y/N), I hope you had your share of morning booster as well?" she nodded with a faint smile playing on her lips before handing off the files to him as she began to brief him regarding the topics and issues he and the company had been working on.

The projects and the required consumptions and stock- price data. It was not every day that the investors would gather at the conference room, but since a new project at hand was to begin, a meeting with the investors was required.

"Well, the reports look good (Y/N), did Mr Min mail you the required files?"

"Yes, the deal was explained there. He would be presenting along with you, it is regarding the profit margin and how the chances of loss and risk are low this time," she explained, to which he nodded

"Yes, and I require you to be with me in this meeting."

"Of course I will be with you, Sir, I am your secretary."

"No, I mean sit beside me, you won't be standing behind as you have been. And I expect all your focus on the presentation, okay? There is so much you would be learning from this." she gave him an obedient nod with a small smile.

She did not intend to disappoint him at any cost. Mr Kim was her role model, she looked up to him. Given, that she despised the spotlight and the position of CEO was not for her, but she was found herself to be a perfect fit for the position of secretary.  Despite how demanding her job could get, Mr Kim was an excellent boss and mentor. He was at ease, most of the time. At most, she had seen his eyes grow cold and jaws clenched, perhaps only twice, that too if something went seriously downhill. It was a sliver of what might be laying under the controlled and calm persona. He was a human too after all.

She made her way towards her desk as soon as the briefing was over. Mr Kim's office was massive, and he did not wish to waste time on having to ring her to come to his office, thus he had a desk for her arranged in his office itself. It was kind of a mini-open office, her boss and her working under the same roof, no barriers between them, she could approach him anytime she wanted to and he did not need a phone anymore to summon her.

They had settled into a routine like that. She would begin her day by bringing him his much-needed cup of coffee and listing the first half of his morning schedule, then she could begin with her works of arranging files, stacking reports, sending emails, scanning through and replying to the mails, researching on the potential business partners, making and answering phone calls, deciding and listing appointment and other project-related materials those were deemed necessary by Mr Kim.

And all the months of working under him had been able to provide her with a unique perspective of him. There were so many things she would have never been able to discover otherwise, for instance, the fact that he loved crabs- not on his plate- but on his palms as he would gently cradle those tiny creatures whenever he would come across them. He even owned a crab, a pet crab. She would not have known had he not rambled off regarding his love for crabs while he had ordered gourmet food for them when she was required to stay some extra hours, which was a frequent occurrence. The workload could be a bit too much for him to handle, besides, those extra hours consisted far less of work one would expect and more of them talking, she had finally been able to let him enter her comfort zone, she would be damned if she had not. He had been exceptionally generous to her, he was kind and approachable, time and again he had proved it, both as a superior as well as a person.

He was warm, gentle and funny, unintentionally funny. Especially when he would break his glasses more than once a month, it would be a miracle if his AirPods would not be lost within the first week of purchase. And while his constant misplacement of files and other such important documents had managed to make her purse her lips in annoyance more than once. The warm, dimpled sheepish smile had did not allow the annoyance to remain. Because even if he would be exhausted after a day's of overwhelming work, he would not forget to wish her good night before they left the office, because even if she would be a bit late with her coffee, he never threw a fit like one would expect the boss to do. And because despite his busy schedule, he would manage to inquire about her mother's health.

Mr Kim was different. He was everything any woman would crave for and desire. And despite not being the one with shallow indulgence, she had found herself falling for her employer. It did not happen overnight. It was a gradual process, like sleep.

(L/N)(Y/N) was in love with Kim Namjoon, her boss, the heir of the legendary Kim Group of Companies.

And it had been so easy to fall in love with that man. Despite her previous reservations. And she was well-aware that the love would go tragically unreciprocated. They were worlds apart in more than one ways, the social gap, the economic gap, the professional. Everything laid in front of her to see, understand and accept the fact that her love for Kim Namjoon could not bridge the distance between the moon and a mere earthly admirer. To him, she would be many of the faceless women waiting for his attention and thronging around him if he came to know about her newfound feelings. And she did not want that to happen. She did not wish to ruin the sweet, friendly professional bond she had established with him.

And yet, she could not help the bittersweet blooms in her heart every time she would see him smile. Because she knew that sooner or later, he would be having a much warmer smile, eyes shining with love and adoration for a woman who would own his heart. It was impossible for a man like Kim Namjoon to remain single for long, he was the country's most eligible bachelor after all. Or perhaps he already had someone special in his heart, a secret lover perhaps. The mere thought dimmed her mood and often made her shoulders slump.

Of all the massive, daunting waves threatening to crash upon her, her newfound romantic attachment to her employer was the most terrifying one. Because she knew that wave would come crashing down and drown her. And that single wave against all others frightened her the most because it threatened to cause upheaval on the calm surface of her life and become the cause of her ultimate demise.

****

Taglist(Kindly remind me later if I missed anyone)- @whatpageisthis @amoc94 @theresa-nam-nam-me @dearbambideer @casualminiaturetimemachine @njrwifey @kpopisnicee @illnevertrustmyselfagain @potterbrooke @luvaffaire @bighitfics @mochimochipie @vixenwerr

[toyama-division]

ECO BooN Drama Track 2 - Word Games

Part 1

【 Toi Pharmaceuticals Company Building 】

In a laboratory, Kensaku Morimoto is seen cleaning up his work area and removing his protective gear. He hums cheerfully to himself, while across the room a few of his other associates continue their work.

Scientist 1: Ah, Mori-kun! Are you sneaking off again?

Kensaku: Mm? Heh, did you guys catch me? No, I have some business with my new team so I gotta leave early.

Scientist 1: Team?

Kensaku: Did I not tell you guys yet? I got into the D.R.B. for the Toyama division!

Scientist 2: The D.R.B.? Ya mean the government thing with those newfangled weapons of theirs?

Scientist 1: I believe they’re microphones… But weapons? Hey, can a bunch of wacky mics really be a weapon?

Scientist 2: Of course! They affect the user’s targets psychologically! Ya know how many poor folks get our painkillers to remedy the pains from that sort of thing?

Scientist 1: Wow, seriously? Mori-kun, you’re getting mixed up in that sort of thing?

Kensaku: Yup! Although [Scientist 2], you sound like a paranoid old person.

Scientist 2: Why shouldn’t we be paranoid? For some madman to create that sort of technology is something we have to be worried about. What’s the chance that someone will try and enhance those effects and do something worse!

Scientist 1: Hey now, calm down…

Kensaku: No, they’re right. We should be worried. Honestly, if something comes of this, you guys can use me as a guinea pig after all is done.

Scientist 2: Suit yourself. As long as you’re gonna represent us… Hey, if you win you should donate the money back to the company!

Scientist 1: Why the hell would he do that?! Mori-kun, just escape while you can.

Kensaku: Haha, we’ll think about it!

Scientist 1: Come on! We could use some extra research funds! Hey, don't try and cover my mouth!

Closing the door, footsteps echo down the dull white halls as Kensaku makes his way to the elevator. With a press of the button and a moment of waiting, the silver doors open up, and the scientist steps in and make his descent back to the ground floor.

Kensaku (mumbling): …Do something worse huh?

As the words settled in, something stirred within the man.

Kensaku: Ngh…!

Flinching in pain, an unfamiliar scene filled Kensaku’s head. An empty street filled with rain, followed by a heavily breathing Kensaku running somewhere before a group of voices chirp behind him.

████████████: Uh oh. Did you run out of places to run?

Kensaku: No! You get away…!

████████████: Hold still for us, will you?

The dizzying swirl of pain and sickeningly pink color spots began to dwindle down, before Kensaku could finally hear someone calling out to him from the open door of the elevator.

Medical Student: ...sensei? Morimoto sensei? Are you alright?

Finding himself hunched against the wall of the elevator, Kensaku finally stands straight. Becoming a bit flustered at being caught in such a vulnerable state, he could only nervously laugh at the med student who had caught him in the lift.

Kensaku: Y-Yeah, sorry. I had a really bad migraine. I think I just need to get home and lay down.

Medical Student: Really? You need to care for yourself more sir…

Kensaku: I’ll be fine. And come on, I told you to not be so stiff! You can drop the polite attitude around me!

Patting the student on the shoulder, Kensaku passes the student laughing cheerily as if he wasn’t in a really bad situation just mere minutes ago. However, as soon as Kensaku makes his way outside the building, an emergency cigarette is quickly lit to alleviate the remaining pains that faintly throbbed in his head. After taking a deep inhale of the nicotine, Kensaku could only sigh out dismissively.

Kensaku: I should be fine. Just another… Hallucination is all. Nothing to be worried about...

To be continued...

[wrenhyperfixates]

Perfect

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: After much research and seeking out advice from Tony, Loki asks you on a date. Warnings: dialogue heavy and an adorably awkward Loki A/N: Thank you for requesting @akhansen2800! I hope you enjoy :) 

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

The common room was a mess, thanks to the trickster god. There was paper and books littered all over the floor. Not to mention bits and pieces from the computer he may or may not have smashed against the ground. It really was hardly his fault, though; it was the insipid machine that dared defy him.

“Woah, Reindeer Games,” Tony said, walking in, sidestepping the junk on the ground. “Did a tornado hit or something?”

“Oh, very funny, Stark. If you ask me, it is an improvement over this drab decor you have picked,” Loki quipped, eyes never leaving the page he was reading.

“No, how could you! My heart, it can’t take this,” Tony overdramatically gasped, flopping on top of the papers strewn on the couch. “Goodbye, cruel world.”

“Your theatrics never cease to amaze me,” Loki sighed, finally looking up at the man he’d come to call friend. “And that says a lot, coming from me.”

“You’re right, it’s high praise.” Tony picked up one of the papers he’d crinkled from laying on top of. “What is all this, anyway?”

Just because Loki considered Tony a friend, didn’t mean he necessarily wanted to say what he was doing. He was still a rather closed off person and, in all honesty, preferred to avoid any and all talks about his emotions. Which, of course, brings him right back to why he’s sitting in the middle of this mess, anyway. His emotions, which, despite his best efforts, he did still have.

Loki stood up and stretched his muscles, achy from being hunched over his reading material for so long.  He snatched away the page Tony was perusing, only for him to grab another one to skim. Realizing any effort to keep confiscating the papers one at a time would be fruitless, Loki moved it all to his room with a snap of his fingers. Then he sat next to his companion and began wringing his hands in that awful nervous tic of his. Truth be told, he could use some advice, but that only brought him back to square one of having to talk about his feelings. Tony leaned back on the couch while patiently awaiting Loki’s answer.

“I was doing some research,” Loki finally admitted. “On some Midgardian things.”

“That’s cute, Reindeer, but you could just ask me. Or maybe Peter if it's a pop culture thing.”

“It is not.” Loki wondered how much he could beat around the bush before he either had to give up on the conversation or genuinely say what was wrong. “It is just something I am not entirely sure how to go about.”

“I’m great at giving advice.”

“No, you are not,” Loki rolled his eyes.

“Sure I am!” Tony exclaimed, feigning hurt. “How would you know, anyway? You’ve never actually asked me for any.”

“Maybe not, but I have seen the way you live your own life, Stark.”

“That’s entirely different,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Come on, give me a chance. Fire away, I’m ready.”

Loki merely rolled his eyes again, though he was actually considering it. He hated to admit it—he really hated to admit it—but Tony had become somewhat of a father figure to him. That was absolutely ridiculous, of course, considering how Loki was a thousand years older than the man. But after his childhood, he’d be silly to reject that kind of relationship. Loki supposed that if he had to go to anyone with this problem, Tony wasn’t a terrible option. Besides, he should probably let himself be emotionally vulnerable very once in a while, right? That was supposed to be good or something, he thought. So, he steeled himself, and told Tony his issue.

“There is this Midgardian that I know. They are very sweet and kind and perfect... I mean, they are as bearable as a Midgardian can be,” Loki covered up, blushing slightly from how much he had just revealed. “I would like to ask them to spend some time with me, but I am not sure how.”

“Awww, you have a crush,” Tony cooed. “How sweet. You want to ask them out.”

“No,” Loki protested, stubborn as ever. Tony just raised his eyebrows at him. “Ok, fine! Yes, I would like to take them on a date, but I am dreadfully lacking in knowledge on Midgardian dating etiquette.”

“You’ve come to the right place,” Tony grinned. “Oh and take notes.”

And so, Loki spent the next two and a half hours listening to Tony ramble on. Most of it was just him going on rather useless tangents about his own endeavors in love. The God of Mischief rolled his eyes so many times, he began to fear they might roll out of his head. His notes, at least, were pretty amusing. Ok, to call them notes may be a little generous. They were mainly silly doodles of Tony monologuing, with the few helpful things he said jotted in the margins. He got so invested in one of his little caricatures that he didn’t even notice Tony stopped speaking.

“Hey, that’s not what I look like,” Tony pouted, peering at the drawing.

“Well nothing you were saying was helping, Stark.” Loki put the note pad in one of his dimensional pockets. “I am not like you. I am not a flashy person when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Oh, so you want to go the be yourself way. You know, the sappy speeches and flowers and chocolates direction.”

Loki perked up a bit. “Yes. Yes, that sounds splendid.”

Tony sighed and gave Loki a list of movies to watch. And told him to speak from the heart. That troubled Loki; no one ever really cared to listen to him speak before. But, he dutifully watched all the assigned movies, supplemented by some of the books he was still combing through.

After a week of preparation and many, many drafts of a speech to say to you, Loki was finally ready to ask you out. Donning his best Midgardian suit, he walked out of his room, greeted by a bright flash of light. Tony was standing there, camera in hand.

“Look, at my little boy,” he fake cried. “All grown up.”

“Stark, will your antics ever stop?” Loki looked at the camera out of the corner of his eye. “And delete that photo, I was not ready.”

“Nope. It’s payback for all those unflattering doodles. Now, go get ‘em, Reindeer. Remember: Just be yourself.”

Easier said than done, Loki thought as he called upon his seiðr, teleporting to your street. You were an employee at Stark Tower; that’s how the two of you met. Loki had been looking for his brother, his search taking him into the cafeteria, one of his least favorite places in the whole building. It was always too loud and populated for someone who liked his silence and solitude. The sheer number of people in the room was overwhelming to the god that day, but he needed to speak with Thor, and he’d searched just about every other place his brother could be. He could not spot him in the crowd, but his eyes landed on you, off near a corner at a table alone and reading a book. He cast one last nervous look around the room before heading towards where you were, his social anxiety kicking in.

“Hello,” he said after clearing his throat.

You looked up at him with a dreamy sort of gleam in your eye that revealed how enchanted you’d been with your book. It gave Loki a little boost of confidence to know that that happened to you, too. That you could get so lost in a story that the world around you disappeared. It calmed his racing heart a little.

“Oh uh, hi,” you greeted with a chipper smile. Then more nervously, added, “It’s Loki, right?”

“Yes, that is correct. Loki of Asgard, pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said, sweeping into a small bow. “And you are?”

You told him his name, extending your hand for a shake. “How can I help you?”

“I am looking for my brother, but I cannot find him. You have not seen him around, have you?”

“I actually did see him earlier, though I’m not sure- Wait!” you suddenly exclaimed, and Loki followed your gaze. “He’s over there.”

Loki gulped. Of course his brother was at the table in the center of the room, surrounded by people. He really needed to talk to him about a mission, but the thought of going over there was making his stomach feel queasy. He tried to take a step forward, but his feet were apparently glued to the floor.

“Hey, if you’re nervous about going over there, I get it. Crowds can be scary,” you said, picking up on his subtle fidgeting. “The room usually clears out significantly in about ten minutes from now. I, um, was going to that little cafe over in the corner and get some tea or coffee, if you want to come.” Loki stared at you for a moment, unused to being invited places, especially by mortals he did not know. You seemed to mistake his silence, though, and rushed to assure him he didn’t have to. “Sorry, that was probably stupid. You’re under no obligation to say yes, of course. I understand.”

“No! I mean, yes.” He sighed and mentally smacked himself. Ever since moving to Midgard, his silver tongue was not what it used to be around strangers. “I mean, no that is not stupid, and yes, I would like to go to that cafe with you.”

And go to that cafe you did, launching into an animated conversation about reading. Loki even made you laugh, which felt like a huge accomplishment to him. The both of you sat back down at your table with your warm drinks, still chatting. There were very few people Loki ever felt so relaxed with, especially so soon after meeting them. You didn’t talk about anything groundbreaking, but he enjoyed talking to a kindred spirit. Somehow you even got a smile tugging at his lips, getting wider by the minute.

True to what you’d said, the room noticeably emptied nearly ten minutes later. With only a few people left and after such an amazing conversation, Loki was sure he could go grab his brother out of the room. But that was the problem; the conversation was too amazing, and he didn’t want it to end. And it seemed you didn’t either.

“Hey, um, maybe this is weird, but do you maybe want to talk again sometime? Like if you ever need a friend or are bored or anything?” you ventured.

“I would love that,” he genuinely replied.

You quickly wrote down your number and, after double and triple checking it, handed it to him. He tucked it safely away in one of his inner pockets before getting up and you bidding you goodbye. Then, in a better mood than he’d been in in a long time, Loki waltzed over to Thor’s table and successfully extracted him from the few people still clinging to his every word. He glanced back at you one last time before exiting, and you gave him a small, somewhat shy wave. He returned it along with a smile.

Loki kept that all in his heart as he walked up to your door, finger hovering by the bell for a minute. Maybe this was silly. No, this was definitely ridiculous. But, if he stood here any longer, your neighbors would probably think he was some crazy person.

Really, he shouldn’t be so nervous. You talked all the time since that day of your first meeting, and you’d never seemed bothered by him before. Not even when he started bringing surprise morning coffees to your desk. Or when he started leaving you books he thought you might like. Or when he started giving you little hugs when you seemed down. In fact, you seemed touched by all that. But this was all so new to him, so different from anything he’d known before. What if he was reading it all wrong? Before he could talk himself out if it, he rang the bell.

He heard you shout that you were coming in response. He quickly adjusted his tie and then stood with the flowers hidden behind his back. He made sure to get a bouquet of your favorites. You opened the door and your mouth made an adorable little “o” of surprise before your lips formed a sweet smile.

“Loki!” you greeted, smoothing down your sweatshirt. “I wasn’t expecting you. Don’t get me wrong, though. It’s great to see you. Um, do you want to come in? The place is kind of a mess right now, but-”

Loki whipped out the flowers from behind him, making you cut out in surprise. He stared at his feet and nervously mumbled, “These are for you.”

“Loki, these are so beautiful. This is so sweet. Thank you.” You gave him one of those shy smiles that he loved so much. “I feel bad, I don’t have anything for you.”

“That is quite alright. I have come here to ask you something.”

“Oh! Ok. I’m all ears.”

Loki smiled at the Midgardian expression, calming him a little. “We have been friends for some time now, and I have thoroughly enjoyed every minute—nay, every second—I have spent with you. You are the most kindhearted being I have ever met, beautiful both inside and out. And thus, I find myself wanting something more than friendship, if you will allow it. My dear, sweet, darling little mortal, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”

“Oh, Loki,” you breathed. “That was beautiful. I would absolutely love to go on a date with you.”

He cheered on the inside, and you hugged him close. After you pulled away, the two of you stood there for a minute, smiling like dorks. It seemed to Loki that no matter how badly he wanted to say something else, the only thought occupying his brain was that you said yes. He could hardly believe you said yes.

“So, uh, what are we going to do on our date?” you sheepishly asked.

Loki’s face dropped. He couldn’t believe how foolish he was. “I do not know yet. I knew there was something I was forgetting. I am sorry, darling.”

“That’s ok, Loki,” you kindheartedly laughed. “Tell you what, there’s a bookstore with the most adorable little cafe in it, just a couple blocks from here. Why don’t we go there?”

“That sounds perfect,” he replied, his smile returning already. “How does tomorrow sound? I can come pick you up around noon?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You stared at each for another minute, those same goofy grins that gave away how happy you were plastered on your faces. When Loki began to overthink how awkward he probably looked, he found it in himself to tear his eyes away from your beauty.

“So I shall see you tomorrow then,” he nervously said.

“Yup! See you then,” you replied, your nerves equaling his own.

After a quick hug and waving goodbye to each other, you parted ways. Soon, Loki was back home in the Tower, happily sprawled on the sofa, book in hand.

“Hey Reindeer Games,” Tony greeted. “So, how’d it go? Was I right, or was I right?”

“As much as it pains me to admit it, Stark, you were right.” Loki smiled to himself, already daydreaming about your date. “It was perfect.”

Loki found that after so much anxiety and uncertainness, there was finally one thing he knew; tomorrow was going to be perfect, too.

[blu-joons]

You Have Heart Surgery ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

You were understandably quiet as Jin drove you to the hospital, glancing across at you every few minutes, feeling his heart break as you stared helplessly out of the window.

He sighed softly, “it’ll be alright,” he whispered, reaching across to rest one hand against your thigh, “I know it’s scary, but you’re going to be in safe hands throughout it all.”

“It’s such a huge operation,” you frowned, turning your eyes to look across at him. “I know it’s going to help, but the thought of having it is beginning to feel very real.”

“I know what you mean,” he smiled, “this morning I woke up and I panicked a little, but then I remembered it’ll be alright.”

Your head slowly nodded, biting down on your bottom lip. “I’ll just be relieved when it’s all done, and I don’t have to worry anymore.”

“So, will I,” Jin agreed, “and when it’s all done, you’ll have me to look after you and you can get me to do whatever you want me too.”

“That definitely is one of the bonuses of having this.”

“I’ll take the best care of you, I promise,” he smiled, “you’ll have nothing to worry about with me keeping an eye on you.”

“You’ll hate me by the time this is over.”

Yoongi:

His heart dropped when he got the call to say you’d been in an accident, racing down to the hospital, you had already gone into surgery before he got the chance to see you.

A nice came up to his side, “she’s alright,” she whispered, encouraging him to take a seat, “I’m guessing you’re her boyfriend, I can tell you what’s happened if you want to know.”

“Please,” he whimpered, staring down at the ground as he began to fear the worst. “I don’t understand how this has happened, it’s all a lot to take in.”

“It is,” she sympathised, “but I can tell you that Y/N’s gone into surgery for heart surgery, she was taken down as an emergency case.”

Yoongi’s head nodded, struggling to really take in what was being said. “So, is she going to be alright? Or is this something more serious to worry about?”

“She’ll be fine,” the nurse assured him, “I know it’s a little overwhelming right now, but we’ll take you to see her as soon as she’s out of surgery.”

“Do you have any idea how long that could be?”

“Right now, it’s hard to say,” she informed him, “but I promise as soon as I hear anything, I’ll be straight down here to let you know.”

“Thank you, please take care of her.”

Hoseok:

He raced forwards as your eyes slowly opened, staring around the room, smiling when your eyes fell on Hobi sat beside you, reaching out to take a hold of your hand.

His thumb brushed over your hand, “everything went well,” he quickly assured you, watching as you let go of a sigh of relief. “How do you feel? Or is that a stupid question?”

“I don’t really know how to feel,” you giggled, “I still feel a little bit dizzy, and I’m not really sure exactly what just happened, at least I know everything went well.”

“The doctor said it would take a little while for everything to settle,” Hobi informed you, studying your face closely. “You’ve just got to rest.”

Your head carefully nodded as best as it could. “I definitely feel like I could rest forever with how I’m feeling right now, it feels like a brick got dropped on me.”

“I’m not surprised,” he laughed, “you just need to focus on looking after yourself now though, I’m going to be the best nurse you’ve ever had.”

“You’ll be the only nurse that I’ve ever had.”

“At least that automatically makes me the best nurse,” he chuckled, squeezing your hand, “I’ve got no competition to compare to.”

“You were always going to be my favourite anyway.”

Namjoon:

Your eyes looked across at Namjoon who sat beside you on his laptop, as you studied his screen, you noticed yet again he was reading up about your surgery.

He felt your eyes watching him closely, “I want to be prepared,” he informed you before you could speak, “I want to know exactly what’s going to happen to you.”

“It’s open-heart surgery Joon,” you said, as if he didn’t already know, “there’s only so much research you can do before you end up going insane with worries.”

“You can never do too much research,” he smiled, “it’s going to be up to me to look after you when all of this is done, and I want to do it right.”

You smiled appreciatively up at him, “I know that you’ll take the best care of me, without reading up on all of these blogs and websites.”

“It probably looks stupid,” he groaned, closing his laptop lid down, “it just worries me that it could be on my shoulders that something goes wrong.”

“It’s not stupid, it makes me happy that you care so much.”

“I just want to make your life as easy as possible,” he smiled, “this is a huge thing that you’re about to go through.”

“I know, but everything will be alright.”

Jimin:

Your eyes lit up as Jimin walked into your room on the ward, holding tightly onto a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates that he’d bought from your favourite store.

He placed them down beside you, “treats for the patient,” he smiled, before taking a seat beside you. “How are you feeling today? Have they said anymore about getting discharged?”

“I’ve still got to stick around for a couple more days,” you informed him, “but they said the initial recovery seems to be going well, so that’s a good thing.”

“Sorry I wasn’t able to come and visit yesterday,” he smiled, taking a hold of your hand. “Everything was just so busy with work, and then visiting hours were over.”

Your head shook, “I can’t expect you to be here every second of every day, you’ll be sick of me when I have to start recovering at home.”

“I quite like the thought of looking after you,” he grinned, ripping the box of chocolates with his free hand, “it’s what I’m supposed to do anyway.”

“It’s alright for you now, you can get breaks and go home.”

“I wish that I could be here right now for you always,” he assured you, placing a chocolate into your mouth, “the thought of leaving you terrifies me.”

“I’m well looked after here; you don’t need to worry.”

Taehyung:

He hadn’t been able to take a break since he arrived at the hospital a couple of hours ago after receiving a phone call to say you’d been brought in for emergency surgery.

He’d paced your room again and again until finally yours eyes opened, blinking several times. “You’re in hospital,” Taehyung spoke, finally taking a seat at your beside. “You’re alright.”

“Why?” Was all you could say, failing to recall how you ended up where you were. Your smile dropped as you looked around at everything that was in your room.

“You were in an accident,” Taehyung informed you, spotting the confusion in your expression. “You’ve had heart surgery Y/N, it’s a pretty big deal.”

Even though you nodded, none of the information really sunk into you. “I want to go home,” you whispered, staring blankly across at Taehyung.”

“You’re going to have to wait a few days,” he sighed, resting himself beside you, “it’ll make sense soon once you’re a bit more with it.”

“I just remember going to work, how did I even get here?”

“I’m not entirely sure myself yet,” he sighed, “hopefully when the nurse comes, we can get a few more answers and find out.”

“I can’t believe I have to stay here now.”

Jungkook:

His leg continued to bounce as you waited in the hospital, placing your hand over it to try and encourage him to stop, Jungkook could only sigh back at you.

His eyes stared across at you, murmuring a quick apology. “It just scares me that this is happening today, there’s so much to worry about and stress over.”

“You’re more nervous than me,” you laughed, “and you’re not even the one having the surgery. I’m sure that nothing will go wrong today, you’ve just got to be confident.”

“It’s easy for you to say, you’ll be put to sleep, I’ll be awake and worrying about you,” he vented, “I’ll have to sit for hours and stress.”

Your smile grew, resting your head down to lay against his shoulder. “We can swap positions if you’d prefer to have heart surgery.”

“You joke,” he laughed, “but I would swap positions in a heartbeat, I’d much rather it was me in your position today then you.”

“At least at the end of the day I’ll be better.”

“I know you will,” he sighed, “I just can’t wait to get to the end of the day and for all of this to finally be put in the past.”

“Me too, but it won’t be long now.”

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Masterlist