#begrudgingly because it always feels like a chore because i feel like its not worth it for a variety of reasons. and since the character is

[flippedorbit]

how’s everyones morning going

[ghostdrew22]

Can I request a draco x reader where they just stay together all day even tho its a school day so they just like skip school all day and then one of their friends catch them? It probably sounds confusing but I LOVE YOUR WRITING

Where Words Fall Short || Draco Malfoy

So I changed it into a teacher catching them instead, I hope it still suits your fancy. Thank you so much for this request, I had quite a nice time writing it <3

Requested: Yes Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: mentions of mental illness? Idk what I should be warning you against in this one tbh so if you find anything then let me know <3 Summary: Draco is having a hard morning so Y/N keeps him company and they ditch lessons.

WORDS : 2114

~~~

Growing up, Draco continuously watched as a curtain was drawn above the topic of mental health in his household. What should’ve been long, informative discussions about his withstanding family history and hereditary struggles with mental health, was broken down into, “Your father just gets a bit overwhelmed sometimes”, and “Your mother is a woman, and as women do, she often gets erratic until she tires herself out.”

None of it was true, of course, just excuses used to try and avoid the problem. But it wasn’t discussed. Not when Narcissa would sleep for days on end, or when Lucius was hospitalised, and especially not when Draco began to display symptoms similar to his parents. The family healer was called in, Draco was diagnosed and medicated, and it was discussed no further. Because words were just not the Malfoy way.

You’d long become accustomed to his habits when he wasn’t feeling well, he’d told you himself about his struggles, and you’d adjusted quickly enough. Now you know, just by the sight of him, when he’s having a rough day. As hard as Draco tries to follow in his parent’s footsteps and draw a veil on his suffering, he just can’t bring himself to do it when you’re around. You make him feel safe.

You read the watch on your wrist, 8.10am, and sigh when you notice that Draco’s still not in the Great Hall for breakfast. Draco prides himself on being organised and punctual, so when he’s even five minutes late to breakfast you know that he’s having one of those days and he might just not get out of bed.

“He’s just running late this morning, I watched him walk to the showers.” Crabbe says beside you as he notices worry etch its way onto your features. You nod and smile at him.

“Thanks Crabbe.”  You respond before grabbing the empty plate on your other side and filling it up with Draco’s favourites.

It’s another ten minutes before Draco finally walks into the Great Hall, and you feel your heart wrench at the sight of him- hair still wet from showering, faint bags beneath his eyes and a solemn look painting his face- he looks exhausted. You smile at him when he settles into the space beside you and he smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

He interlocks your fingers together as he sits down and you slide the plate of food toward him. He kisses the back of your hand as a thank you and you nod before turning back to your own food. On mornings like this conversation is sparse- it’s like a useless chore that you can both afford to forget- and you both resort to actions as a means of conversation.

Normally, words would be spent on endless declarations of love, confirmations of support, queries of comfort and insurmountable pleas to just sit in silence together. But now, now with this routine and understanding that sits comfortably on the border of your relationship, words no longer need to transpire between you both in order for there to be a mutual understanding of what you both need.

Most kisses are ‘I love you’ or ‘thank you’, but every so often when Draco paints every square inch of your face in adoration with his lips, then he’s telling you that you’re beautiful, that every piece of you is just another reason for him to fall deeper into love with you. Hugs are usually him begging for attention, trying discreetly to drag you away from whatever it is that you’re doing and bring you down to his dorm with him for cuddles.

But Draco’s preferred method of communication on days like this, is squeezing your hand. Information by hand squeeze increases in degree; one is ‘I’m fine, just tired’, two is ‘I’m probably going to disappear halfway through the day for some alone time’, and three is ‘Please spend the day with me’.

So when you feel that familiar pressure against your hand come in waves of three that morning, you know that he’s having a particularly bad day. You turn to him and nod, and this time when he smiles at you, it actually does reach his eyes.

~~~

When the first lesson of the day is underway, Muggle Studies, you and Draco are lying in his bed in his shared dormitory. There’s a risk of one his roommates coming back to collect a forgotten book or leftover homework, but it matters little when the two of you are spaced out in the small world of your own invention. You’re running your hands through his hair as his head sits comfortably on your chest, and his fingers are running up and down your other arm in an effort to keep him occupied.

The two of you spend the next few hours like that, just lying in his bed in silence as Draco thinks himself into oblivion and you try to calm him down. It doesn’t work though, and at some point you grow frustrated at the amount of tension that he’s built up in this shoulders, and demand that he gets up.

“Why?” He asks with furrowed eyebrows as he lifts his head off of your chest.

“Do you trust me?” He nods, and you smile. “Good, then come on.”

You pull him behind you quietly as the two of you roam the castle and head toward the Astronomy Tower- trying desperately not to arouse suspicion and get caught skipping lessons just as the day is ending.

When you reach the top and see that the sun is shining faintly, a satisfied sigh escapes your lips. All that cold and darkness in the dungeons wasn’t good for Draco and you’d lugged him all the way up here for some sunshine. You know that it won’t really fix anything that’s bothering him, but at least the Vitamin D might lift his spirits a little bit or help him to relax a tad more.

You sit on the ground and pull Draco down to sit beside you. He drops his head against your shoulder and pulls the back of your hand up to his lips, Thank you, is what the action says and you smile at the small acknowledgement. You lean your own head against his that’s resting on your shoulder and he shuts his eyes in content as you pull out the book that you’d brought up to read.

“Should I read to you?” You ask and he nods very softly, so you do as he asks and begin to read the novel out loud.

It’s mundane, sure, but Draco thinks that he could spend the rest of his life like this. When words have always failed him, you’ve been there to pick up pieces of his unsaid ministrations. Most people, if not all the people in his life, have always found his failure to conjure up words and describe his feelings, annoying. But not you, never you, you have always loved the way he tries so hard to show you his love instead of tell it to you. Whenever he feels torn apart, like a rag doll being tugged on both arms, you somehow manage to remind him that he’s made of skin and bone, not cloth and plastic. It’s you that reminds him he’s worth something, even when he feels as though he’s worth nothing.

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?” You respond absent-mindedly as you turn your head slowly away from the pages and toward Draco. When you catch a glimpse of his contorted features, concern washes over you. “What’s wrong? Do you want to go back inside?”

“No, no.” He shakes his head softly and smiles at you. “I just want to chat, is that okay?”

“Well… I was enjoying this book…” You tease and laugh when you see that he’s not amused. “I’m kidding, am’ all yours love.” You peck him on the lips quickly before closing your book and putting it aside.

He sighs, “I’ve been thinking-”

“Oh, that’s never good.” You immediately respond and he narrows his eyes at you which makes you laugh, “Okay, I’ll stop now.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” He says with a roll of his eyes, and a small smile, before he takes a deep breath and continues. “I’m going off my meds.”

You take a moment to digest what he’s said before nodding slowly, “Oh…”

“Oh…?” He raises his eyebrows in anticipation, worried that you won’t support his decision. “Are you mad?”

You’re taken aback by his question and turn to face him in confusion. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, mother was furious when I told her.”

“Okay, but your mother is notorious for having the emotional range of a green bean,” Draco, albeit begrudgingly, laughs at your comment with a shake of his head, “What? Am I wrong?” You ask with a laugh as well.

“You’re not wrong but that’s not the point. You’re bloody rude!” He tries to stop laughing but it’s not working and soon enough the two of you are rolling around on the ground, crying your eyes out in laughter.

After a good three minutes has passed the two of you have finally calmed down and the serious atmosphere has returned. “I’m not mad Draco, I could never be mad at you.”

“You were mad that time I tried to force a Ravenclaw to do my Muggle Studies research for me.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone and you shove him lightly.

“That was because you were harassing that innocent child!” You exclaim with another giggle, “I’ve never been mad at you for doing something that involves only you.”

“What about when I dyed all my pubic hair-“

“I told you never to speak of that.” You cut him off sternly before he can continue and a naughty smile appears on his lips at the memory.

“That was funny, admit it.”

“We were on vacation with my parents! Do you understand how awkward the conversation we had, after the swimming pool, was? They were so concerned about the fact that I’d brought home a boy with blue armpit hair!” You exclaim with wide eyes and Draco bursts into laughter again. “You’re such an arsehole.” You grumble out with a pout and he pecks you with a smile.

“You love me though.”

“I do… I really do.” You respond genuinely as you stare at him in admiration. Even on his worst days, when exhaustion wears his face like a mask and words fall short from his lips, he’s still the love of your life and nothing can change that. “I’m really proud of you, for making a decision like that.”

“Thank you.” He sighs and you can tell how much this has been bothering him over the past few days, if not weeks, by the way his shoulders finally relax. “I just don’t think they’re doing what they’re meant to. I don’t feel any better.”

“Mhmm.” You nod at him to continue as you take his hand in your own.

“I don’t feel worse either though, I feel the same. It’s been a year and I feel the absolute bloody same.”

“What are you going to do instead?”

“Whatever else the healer recommends.” He shrugs, “If she’s got nothing else that will work then I don’t know.”

“Well… I’m here for you, always.”

“I know.”

And it’s true, he does know, sure as he knows that he’s a Slytherin. There aren’t many things and people that Draco relies on, the fear of them letting him down always a barrier, but you he puts his absolute faith in. Because when words fall short to describe the amount of love that he has for you, and the amount of love that you have for him, there will always be actions and you two will always have each other.

You take your hands and cup his face in them before peppering kisses all over his face. He giggles under your touch, an effect that you’ve always had on him and he hates, but you make no move to stop until every corner has been graced with feel of your lips. It’s every word that you could possibly say to him, every sentence that could hold the weight of your adoration, because sometimes, words just fall short.

“Y/N-“ He begins when you finally pull away, wanting to tell you that he loves you, but you cut him off with a dopey smile.

“I know.”

The two of you lie down against the cold, hard gravel- fingers intertwined as you both shut your eyes and bask in the soft rays of sunlight. It’s almost perfect.

Until.

“Mr Malfoy, Ms L/N.” A voice drawls.

“Shit.” You mumble when you remember that it’s Wednesday- Astronomy.

<~>

Did I impulsively write this after declaring I’m going on a week’s hiatus to move? Yes. Did I put off packing for this? Yes. Do I have any regrets? Nope.

anyway,

love you all,

jean <3

[monokyokyo]

Life Saver | SeongSang

Seonghwa x Yeosang Vampire!Seonghwa Work Count: 5k

Dark, mysterious and enticing. Three words that Yeosang would use to describe the forbidden woods resting just outside his village. Ever since he was warned of its horrors he had been drawn closer and closer to its edges and the potential thrill that lay just ahead of it. Yet his lust for adventure was restricted by the laws of his own town.

1.One must not enter the forbidden woods 2.Those found conversing with evil shall be fined with treason 3.Report anyone who fails to abide by these rules

Yeosang was often reminded of these rules even as he stared into the vast forest from the window of his home. The sparse glimpses were just enough to lure him to it. Only to be snapped back to reality mere seconds later. "You're staring again," Stated Wooyoung, the young blonde's roommate. He was often the one to take him out of his traces, which was obviously never appreciated.

"And what about it?" Was his grumpy reply. The older male lounged by the window, his frowning face resting on its cill. "Is it so wrong that I long for a bit of adventure in this godforsaken town? What is there to do here anyway?" He heard Wooyoung hum. The older's moment of indolence was interrupted when a basket of bread was shoved into his arms.

"You can make yourself useful and send this to Mr Kim. I am sure he would appreciate seeing your face. It's not like anyone really does nowadays..." Yeosang scoffed at the way he simply walked off, leaving him with the chores. One Wooyoung himself was meant to do yesterday, in fact. Working at a local bakery to earn their living, they spend plenty of their time delivering bread and baked goods to the villagers of their town.

However, recently, Yeosang couldn't bring himself to so much as leave the house. Why? It simply wasn't worth it. Nothing in this tiny town of tedious troubles was worth leaving the comfort of his home for. Apparently, Wooyoung seemed to think otherwise, and shouted for his roommate to get going.

Begrudgingly, the young male trudged out of his home, hissing at the bright rays of the blinding sun above him. Mr Kim's house was on the other side of town. A walk that, when strode with purpose, wouldn't take more than fifteen minutes. However, for Yeosang, there was no ambition in the way he ambled through the village streets. Annoyance was the only feeling present and it made it difficult for him to care about his final destination.

Yeosang stared at the sky as he walked down the road, potentially looking like some sort of mad man due to his uneven stride. It was because of this wonky walk that he began to inch towards the outskirts of the town. He smacked his head, cursing himself for being so clumsy yet didn't change course. Instead, his eyes travelled towards the groves.

They were so uncanny yet so alluring. Why were the forbidden woods forbidden? It was something Yeosang had always wondered. Whether he knew it or not, his legs began to shift towards the forest. Each step he took gave him a greater sense of enthusiasm as his thoughts became clouded by what may lay ahead of him. It wasn't long before he was in.

His world was encased in instant darkness, surrounded by black plants and ominous glowing eyes. Vines more akin to snakes, bugs the size of monsters and what was once a blinding sun was now a desolate moon resting comfortably in the night sky. The atmosphere was nothing but eerie and to any normal person, uncomfortable. Yet Yeosang found a strange sense of solace in this peculiar setting, urging him to continue his trek forward. He brought out one of the loaves of bread in the basket meant for Mr Kim and munched on it with a grin.

He wondered if Mr Kim would be looking for his delivery and out of curiosity, glanced back to see how far he had walked. To his surprise, there was not a hint of sunlight in sight, when he could've sworn he hadn't been walking for that long. Frantically, his eyes travelled for some hint of familiarity. Yet there was nothing.

The wind blew through the forest, intruding on the thin sleeves of Yeosang's shirt. He shivered, feeling a sudden urge to be back at home by his fireplace. To achieve this, however, he would need to find a way out of here. He would need to think of a plan before one of those eyes watching him decided to strike.

A low growl filled the blonde's ears and it was just enough to send him sprinting. Yeosang dropped the basket of bread, using all of his strength to dash through the deeper parts of the forest. Constantly glancing behind him, he could still hear whatever the creature was chasing after him. It all came to a halt when Yeosang's foot collided with a tree root, sending tumbling to the ground. He screamed, rolling and falling from what felt like an endless cliff until he finally pummeled to the dirt floor. Yeosang groaned in agony and clutched his bruised stomach.

After collecting his fleeting breaths, the male trembled to his feet, eyes going wide at what he had landed in front of. It was a mansion. Yeosang didn't give himself much time to admire its dark exterior before he scrambled to the front door.

Isolated and seemingly left to the harsh elements outside, the house was lifeless. Cobwebs rested in the rooms corners, sheets covered the living room furniture and when Yeosang removed them he was met with a whirlwind of dust. The holes in the floorboards made him cautious of every step he took. Each one followed by the pained croak of the wood beneath him - all on the first floor. He hadn't even gotten to the staircase yet.

From the brief glance he had gotten from outside, the mansion was huge. Far too big for its inhabitants, regardless of how many may have resided there.

The waxy smell of candles filled Yeosang's senses. Torches? Here? In such a desolate place? A shiver ran down the hairs of his neck as the familiar breeze from outside blew through the room, fizzling out the candles and removing any sources of light. Ignoring his natural instinct to run, Yeosang followed the vague smell of smoke emitting from the once lit sticks, now faced with a wide and winding staircase. His eyes went to the interesting paintings on the wall, each of a dignified noble.

The one that intrigued him the most, was of a young man. Though his sight was limited, Yeosang could clearly see his distinct features and sharp red eyes. He was, dare you say, ethereal.

"Well now, what an interesting surprise," Yeosang whipped around. His heartbeat quickened at the massive shadow casting over his small frame. The same glowing eyes as in the painting stared down at him, only now, they were going right through his soul. "A human? How peculiar..."

Yeosang wasn't sure what to do, and from the looks of it, neither did the stranger. They both just stared at one another, examining the other's features. His hair shady blonde, several large strands sticking out, and dark eyebrows creased with unpredictable intent. It was difficult to see, with the only reliable light source coming from the stranger's bright red pupils but it was enough to keep Yeosang captivated.

After one minute of silent gawking, the blonde cleared his throat. "Are you not going to say anything?" This question snapped the older man out of his odd trance, as he leaned closer to Yeosang as if to be sure he had heard him correctly.

"Pardon me?"

"Why are you so silent? I would expect you to at least have some sort of reaction other than confusion. Maybe anger? Irritation? I have broken into your home after all. As...grim as it is, a home nonetheless." The stranger did nothing but blink at such a statement. His evident confusion made Yeosang scoff. "Of course, you're a homeless man that lives in the woods. That must be the reason it is forbidden. It is for the unemployed."

Expecting to just be able to walk off, Yeosang moved away from the man, only to be yanked right back. The stranger glared down at him, his eyes now baring a furious crimson, opposed to their neutral colour before. Yeosang gulped, the man's hand looming over his throat, the other raised. Yet instead of a strike, he snapped his finger. The candles were suddenly relit, giving Yeosang back his full vision.

The man's pale skin accentuated his eyes and his lips were a light shade of pink. His teeth...Oh...now Yeosang understood. Deadly sharp canines pointing out as he dragged his tongue over his upper lip, relishing in the new found fear on the human's face. "Y-You're...a vampire..."

"Well now, don't you catch on quickly? Not quick enough, however," The vampire got ready to bare his fangs, only to be sharply interrupted by the pure look glee on Yeosang's face.

"Amazing!" He cheered, to the pure bewilderment of the vampire in front of him. He was so shocked, that he stood a step back from the smiling male.

"Are you alright?" He asked with genuine concern. "That's not usually the first response someone has when meeting a vampire..."

"Why is that? What could be better than this? You're a vampire for god sake! And by far the most interesting thing to walk into my life!" The vampire didn't like the sound of that, and as far as he was concerned the only thing he planned to do was suck his blood and throw his body outside for the wolves. Yeosang, on the other hand, seemed to have much different plans in mind. "I'm Yeosang, and you are?"

Understandably, the vampire was hesitant to answer anything to this strange man. Yet he told himself that the sooner he got this over with, the quicker he could help himself to a meal. "Seonghwa..." Though the way he phrased it, he sounded unsure. Not the Yeosang minded, or even noticed.

"You're a rather strange human..." He murmured. "Why...?"

"Did you just ask me when I'm strange?" Yeosang gawked at the oddity of this sort of question. Yet it seemed Seonghwa was genuinely expecting an answer. As absurd as it sounded, the blonde shrugged at him. "Boredom will do that, I suppose."

"Bored? Why are you bored?"

"You ask quite a lot of questions, you know that Seonghwa?" The vampire lowered his head, apologising under his breath. His sincerity made Yeosang giggle. It was clear that he didn't interact with many people. Not that there would be many people to talk to in the forbidden forest anyway. "I'm bored because my village is miserable to live in. Nothing ever happens and I would much rather be anywhere in the word but that dull dump."

"I suppose that would explain a bit..." Seonghwa finally saw the way Yeosang, clutched his stomach from his fall earlier and furrowed his brow. "You're hurt..."

"I fell..." The younger murmured in repose. He heard Seonghwa sigh and before he knew it, he was hoisted into the vampire's arms. "H-Hold on! What are you-"

"You're wounded and I refuse to let you walk around injured." Faster than Yeosang could have imagined, the vampire sped to the top of the stairs and into a bedroom. In the blink of an eye, they arrived at a new location and Yeosang was amazed by Seonghwa's speed. He was gently placed on the soft fabrics of the bed and left to get comfortable while the vampire fetched a few bandages. In contrast to the rooms on the first floor, the second level of the mansion, this room, in particular, was practically spotless. Purple wallpaper, black carpet and a pretty, candlelit chandelier to brighten it up - this room was much more to Yeosang's liking.

"Remove your shirt," Seonghwa instructed. Yeosang did as he was told and slipped his long-sleeved shirt off. The vampire sat down next to him and began to clean his wounds. There was silence between them, as Seonghwa focussed on Yeosang's torso rather than the human himself. Yet Yeosang's eyes kept travelling to the vampire's face. His features were absolutely exquisite and the longer he stared the more drawn to him he became.

Questions began to circulate in the young male's mind, and he was dying for some answers. "What are you doing alone here? The forbidden woods are quite dangerous you know..."

Seonghwa chuckled. "I could ask you the exact same. What's a human of all creatures doing so deep in here?" Blush rose to Yeosang's cheeks at the memory of the embarrassing fall he had and the way he had gotten lost so easily.

"I asked first, didn't I?" Seonghwa could hear how defensive his tone had gotten, but laughed regardless.

"I've always been here," He replied. "It's my home after all." Yeosang hummed. It was a simple response but he supposed it made sense. He winced when Seonghwa pressed down just a little too hard on his stomach, causing the vampire to apologise immediately.

"It's alright...But...When are you alone?"

The older paused. His gaze went dark for a moment, evidently trying not to look towards Yeosang and frighten him. "You may want to ask the people in your little village that." He hissed. The moment his torso was wrapped up, Seonghaw stood to his feet, allowing Yeosang to put his shirt back on. His eyes travelled towards the window, something interesting catching his attention. Just outside the house was, what could only be described as a graveyard of plants. A part of Yeosang wondered how nice it would be to fix it up.

Yet before he could dwell on the thought, the vampire said that caught his attention. "You're all done. I'll escort you back to your town so you don't get lost on the way back."

"No!" Yeosang shouted to Seonghwa's surprise. "I can't go back! There's nothing for me there. Please...Allow me to stay with you."

"You can't..."

"Why not? I'm not scared to live with a vampire!" Seonghwa growled. Before he knew it, the human was shoved to the bed, his back hitting the soft cushion below him. Yeosang moved to pull himself up but was pushed right back down. The same hand that had held him to the mattress slowly began to caress the soft skin on his cheek.

"You're not scared because I'm not allowing you to be. If I wanted you to be scared, it would've been when I sucked you dry of the delicious blood in your system," Shivers were the only thing Yeosang felt, as Seonghwa's cold fingers traced his face. "You can't survive in this forest. You may not feel anything now, but trust me, you will."

"S-Seonghwa..."

"And that's why I'm taking you back." Once again, he was hoisted into the vampire's arms, this time, protesting by shouting and smacking at his chest. All his efforts were in vain, however, as Seonghwa was able to speed through the forest with ease, hardly phased by Yeosang's difficult reaction.

It was pitch dark once they arrived at the village. Not a soul in sight. Just the way Seonghwa wanted it. With that, he tossed Yeosang onto the ground. He watched, his hand on his hip and a blank, yet still amused, expression as he watched him roll to his feet. Yet again, they stared at each other. Yeosang noticed the way the vampire bit the inside of his cheek like he was holding himself back.

"Am I ever going to see you again?" The human asked. Seonghwa hated the way his eyes fell. His hands went to Yeosang's face, surprised when the younger blonde didn't even flinch. His soft lips pecked his forehead and Seonghwa smiled at him.

"Not without reason," He told him. "It is forbidden for you to converse with evil. I don't wish to cause you any trouble." The soft hold on Yeosang's face began to slip and away, and he instantly attempted to grab it back, trying to feel what little warmth the vampire's cold body had to offer. It made Seonghwa's face soften. "Though our first encounter may have been short-lived, had the circumstances been different, I would have loved to see you again, Yeosang."

Then he left. Leaving nothing but a breeze and Yeosang, frozen in grief. His one taste of life. Gone before his eyes. Slowly, he drew his hand back, solemnly realising that it was left where Seonghwa's hand once was.

The blonde trudged back to his home, a new wave of exhaustion washing over him. He lit a candle and made his way through the empty house. There was usually a light or two no matter how late it was. Wooyoung must have been out. Yeosang shrugged it off though, too tired to so much as think of where his loud roommate may be.

Seconds within touching the bed, Yeosang was out like a light. There was only one thought on his mind when he went to sleep that night.

Seonghwa.

That same name was on his mind even as he was shaken awake that very night. A plank of wood harshly slammed onto the back of the young male, causing him to cry in pain as he slowly inched up. Yet, to his surprise, it wasn't only Wooyoung standing over him, but guards and the local priest as well. "What's going on? What are you doing in my room?"

"Kang Yeosang, you have been fined with high treason." The guard stated bluntly.

"And for what?" He shouted back, sliding off of his bed. "What crime have I committed?"

The priest stepped forward, a book and bottle of mysterious liquid in his hand. "I can sense it all over you," He ominously spat. "The scent of evil. You reek of dark magic!" Yeosang scoffed at such an accusation. His eyes travelled to Wooyoung, expecting the younger to say something. Yet he did nothing.

"It's true. I saw him leave the forest with a vampire..."

"What? Wooyoung..." His roommate did nothing but watch with a cold face as the guards grabbed Yeosang's arms and began pulling him out. His kicks and screams were useless and they managed to tear him from his house with no strain.

Yeosang wasn't sure how long he had been knocked out, or when he was even knocked out for that matter, but when he awoke his eyes went wide. Surrounded by his fellow town's folk, each scowling with disgust, his arms tied behind his back and to a wooden pole a few feet off the ground. It took a moment too long for him to adjust to his surroundings because the moment he came to, the torches were already moving towards him.

"On this day, we rid ourselves of the evil that has invaded our town," When the priest said those words, the crowd shouted in approval, leaving Yeosang to tremble at the stake. "Darkness has filled this boy's mind and he has allowed it to poison him! And for that, he must be made an example."

Fear was all Yeosang felt, his arms desperately trying to free themselves from the thick rope surrounding him. Then he saw it. The bright flames of torches shining in his direction. And with two words, he could see his life flash before his very eyes: "Burn him."

Panic rose through Yeosang's body and then, terror. A terrified scream left the petrified boy's mouth. His legs kicked and wiggled as the fire raced towards him. He could feel its flames begin to pierce his soft flesh.

This is it.

He wept, eyes filling with tears. Yet before Yeosang could feel the true burn of the fire, a violent breeze swept through the village. People were pushed back, their arms thrown up to block the winds while the fire at Yeosang's feet flickered. Screams echoed from the crowd when the priest suddenly fell to the ground. His face pale and his neck impaled by fangs.

Before Yeosang could so much as react, his bondage was cut, leaving him to fall to the ground. Instead of hitting the floor though, he fell right into a pair of strong arms. "S-Seonghwa?" The blonde marvelled.

"You idiot..." Sure enough, the vampire stood over him, blood staining his lips and a bit of his chin. His dark figure, while frightening, was still radiant under the bright rays of the moon.

"D-Did you kill the-"

"There's no time," By now, the townsfolk had recovered from their shock and the sight of the bloody demon laying ahead of them as well as their dead priest quickly turned them to an aggressive mob. The dark grimaces of abhorrence were enough to signal anyone with a functioning brain to run.

So without wasting another second, Seonghwa fixed Yeosang in his grip, allowing his eyes to wander towards him, saying: "You'll be alright," before rushing as fast as vampirically possible out of the town. Yeosang held onto Seonghwa the whole way. His eyes were pressed shut, not daring to be reopened even if he knew they were far from the village.

Whether he liked it or not, it was still his home. Boring and uneventful as it was. Now, he could never return.

Yeosang felt his body become weak the moment his feet touched the floor of Seonghwa's house. He was supported only by the arms of the vampire holding him. The adrenaline was wearing off. "Are you alright?"

The human's throat felt parched all of a sudden, too dry to elicit a single word. Seonghwa took note of his lack of response and perceived it as exhaustion. "It's okay. I'll take you upstairs." Opposed to last time, where Seonghwa carried him, the vampire opted to walk next to Yeosang while they made their way up the stairs, slowly but surely.

The last thing Seonghwa wanted to do was overwhelm the younger. Especially in the state he was in. So when Yeosang finished hobbling up the stairs, Seonghwa thought it would be best to leave him be once he was under the covers of the blanket. Yet a slight tug on his sleeve kept him in place. "Stay...?" The human pleaded, his voice soft and frail, nearly on the edge of breaking.

"Yeosang, you should rest. I shouldn't-"

"Please..." It was so strained. Hardly a whisper escaping those chard lips of his. This human, so frail and weak, with an attitude like fire - Seonghwa found him hard to resist. As idiotic as he thought he was for actively seeking danger. Nevertheless, the vampire slipped off his coat and circled to the other side of the bed. The two never broke eye contact, not even as Seonghwa rested himself under the soft fabrics of the bed.

Yeosang shifted closer, Seonghwa did the same. Though his body may be cold, his eyes felt warm, filling the blonde with a strange sense of hope and safety.

That was how Yeosang ended spending years with the vampire. Two years, to be exact. He kept Seonghwa company, entertaining him with plentiful banter and silent nights of comfort. Yeosang lived off the foods in the forest and despite not having to eat, Seonghwa had proved to be an excellent chef. Every night, he would provide the human something better than the last. The two had even taken to fixing the unruly first floor of the house. It was a good way to spend time with one another.

They would curl up with one another on the couch, staring at the blazing fire, try, and fail, to bake, and never hesitated to be in the comfort of the other. Seonghwa treated Yeosang as if he were the most precious being on Earth. Rubbing away his sores and attending to his every need. He'd even massage his shoulders as they sat together in the bath.

Yeosang spent much of his time in the back of the manor, tending to the garden of black roses that rested outside its dark walls. He smiled contently at how he had managed to turn this dishevelled swarm of weeds into something lush and wonderfully atmospheric.

"They're gorgeous," Marvelled Seonghwa. The vampire strutted over to the smaller, amazed at the beautiful array of midnight flowers. "Never did I think I would see this garden return to its former glory. Yet you've done it. A true miracle worker you are."

Yeosang giggled at such a compliment. Seonghwa didn't fail to notice the way he tucked his hair behind his ear, a sly grin starting to form on the vampire's face. Carefully, he plucked one of the roses, cautious of their thorns. Its scent was heavenly and when he handed it to Yeosang, the human caught a whiff of its amazing blackberry-like smell.

"For the most radiant person the world has gifted me, not even a rose from the most stunning depths of heaven could compare to you, Yeosang." The blonde, taken aback by such a proclamation, allowed his face to grow warm at Seonghwa's words of sentiment.

"When did you become such a poet?" He chuckled, head facing downwards to hide the blush. Yet he let Seonghwa slowly lift it back up, a gentle smile on his ethereal face.

"The day I became so in love with you, of course."

However, not all was well. Over time, Yeosang began to feel his body start to give out on him. Basic things such as moving felt near impossible for his feeble form. Seonghwa had warned him of the risks of living in the forbidden forest. It was a realm for those of dark descent. A land that would practically shatter the soul of any human if they so foolishly chose to stay.

By the first month in the woods, he was sleeping for longer. By the sixth month, he was hardly awaking at all. One year later, he had lost his appetite, and by two years...

Seonghwa kept the human in his arms, holding him close to his chest as he stroked his soft locks. "Stupid human, I told you..." His face had grown pale, his eyes gone dull and his hair a sickly shade of grey. "You'll be alright, Yeosang. Just hang on a little longer, will you?"

"Seonghwa..." His voice, once firm and commanding, was relegated to nothing but a vague whisper. "T-Take care of the r-roses..."

"No, no stop that! You're not going anywhere!" The weak chuckle he received nearly broke Seonghwa's heart.

"I know y-you don't know the f-first thing about p-plants...but do it...for me?" Tears welled in Yeosang's lifeless eyes that Seonghwa gently brushed away. He could do nothing but hold him tighter, promising that he would do whatever was asked of him.

"Just stay with me," Was all he pleaded in return, even if he knew it was hopeless. Gently, a hand as cold as Seonghwa's cupped his cheek. A sweet smile was the most Yeosang could offer him, but it was just enough. His desolate eyes, although hollow still told him that everything would be okay. The last thing Yeosang wanted to see was him cry.

So he gathered the remainder of his fleeing breaths and told him: "You've made every part of my life worth living. And for that, I will always be grateful. I don't have much, but I hope my love is just enough to repay your kindness." Before resting his eyes.

Never to be opened again in this lifetime.

There he was, left with the body of the first and last man he would ever love. Why god? Why? He didn't deserve this...Seonghwa kept his eyes up, for he knew the moment he looked down at the corpse in his arms, he would be sent to an unending world of grief.

With much anguish, he tucked Yeosang under the blankets of his velvet, purple bed. Seonghwa placed one final kiss on his forehead, before exiting the room. The clicking of the key in its hole was the last activity he would ever hear from that door, as he tossed the object to reopen it through an open window just ahead.

His hands clawed at his hair, desperately attempting to not let his thoughts get the better of him. Yet there was one thought lingering in his mind. And it came from that damn village.

As Wooyoung cleaned off his hands, he whistled a light tune to himself. A soothing sound to scathe off that irritating tinge of guilt had still been feeling. It had been two years, yet even now he thought back to his lost friend. "He was asking for it," He told himself for what could have been the hundredth time. "He shouldn't have wanted to go into that forest so badly, now that damn vampire's killed him..."

"You sound like a man with no regrets. Now that doesn't sound very right to me," Wooyoung froze. A strange breeze blew through the windows of his home, a large shadow casting over his shaking frame. Seonghwa hissed when he didn't turn to face him, yanking by the shoulders and harshly shoving him against the wall.

Wooyoung stared in horror at the obscene amount of blood staining the man's attire. Lips red with metallic liquid of a human's inside spilt gleefully on his pale face. His eyes showed no mercy and no semblance of goodwill. "He wouldn't want you to do this! T-This won't bring him back!"

The dark chuckle rumbling in Seonghwa's throat only told Wooyoung that this wasn't someone willing to be reasoned with. "I know, but sure will make me feel a hell of a lot better."

[lonestarbabe]

Holding Out For a Hero

Chapter 1: Where Have All The Good Men Gone

When T.K. Strand was eight years old, his father died on 9/11 with the rest of his fire station, and T.K.’s life forever changed. Luckily, in his grief and anger, T.K. found music, which gave him an outlet and kept him out of trouble… at least enough to keep him alive. At the age of sixteen, T.K. was propelled into stardom and with the grief and anger still very much alive within him, he began to use drugs, alcohol, and one-night stands to cope. As one of the most popular pop stars alive, T.K. has been accustomed to screaming masses and fanatical adoration but his manager, Judd, and best friend, Marjan, seem to think T.K. needs someone to look after him. T.K. doesn’t want another bodyguard, not after the series of uptight tightwads he’s had, but when he’s introduced to buff, sweetly handsome Carlos Reyes, T.K. begrudgingly decides that he can put up with a little eye candy hanging around (but it’s not because he needs someone to look after him, definitely not…)

T.K.

“I don’t need a bodyguard,” T.K. refuted, petulantly crossing his arms over his chest, but Judd gave him a sharp “don’t argue with me” look. The look usually didn’t go very far. After all, arguing was one of T.K.’s favorite hobbies. Though, he rarely took arguments too seriously. Mostly, they were just for sport, but this time T.K. knew to shut up, at least while Judd lectured him.

“Come on, this is my job to look after you. Let me do it.” Judd adjusted his wristwatch, still not used to the heavy metal Rolex that Grace had gotten him. She’d told him maybe it would him look like an actual manager because looking at Judd, you’d pick a barista from Starbucks as the talent manager over Judd.

Judd’s flannel shirt and blue jeans set him apart from not just other managers but also most of LA. Originally from Texas, Judd may have been a high-profile entertainment manager, but he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a suit to work. If you squinted, you might mistake him for a hipster, but Judd would snarl if anyone ever called him that (he had no beard or weird coffee). Lumberjack would be less offensive (again, no beard or no ax). Cowboy would be better than redneck. He might even take cowboy with pride.

While he was still very much a Texan at heart, Judd had followed his wife, Grace, out to LA so she could chase her dream of being an actress. Considering that Grace Ryder was going to be in what could be the summer’s big blockbuster, the move had paid off and things were going well for the Ryders. T.K. was just relieved that for the last five years he’d had Judd on his side. It was good to have someone who cared, even if T.K. was still a fuck up (because that was inevitable).

His former manager, Misty, had been a robotic woman who cared more about her pantsuits than her clients. At sixteen, he’d signed on with her, and from the start, she’d wanted more than T.K. was willing to give. Albums, tours, books, perfume lines, signings— she’d wanted him to do it all, but T.K. never got a moment of rest. She manipulated him and used all his youthful optimism against him. At first, it had been fun, but then it was just exhausting. Misty had cracked T.K., and she had made music a chore, but it wasn’t like T.K. knew anything else. He felt trapped. He wanted to love music again, but he knew he couldn’t do that with Misty breathing down his neck. Misty wasn’t evil. T.K. had good times with her even if he couldn’t keep up with her demands. She’d helped him start his career. She’d taken a chance on him. Nevertheless, she wasn’t good for him. She was too concerned about her own desires to pay proper attention to his. He needed someone who saw him as an actual person rather than a problem.

Now, Judd had the unenviable job of trying to piece a broken kid back together, but Judd didn’t seem too dismayed by the task. He’d been doing it for five years, after all. T.K. had come to Judd after a long search for the perfect manager, and it had been a cosmically right fit. Marjan Marwani, T.K.’s best friend, had actually been the one who had found Judd, and she still held it over his head that she had found him the best manager on the planet. He really loved his best friend even if she liked to taunt him mercilessly.  

In the time that he had been T.K.’s manager, Judd had been patient with T.K. He worked so hard to keep T.K. vaguely functional. Judd actually cared for some reason. Unlike Misty, Judd wasn’t the kind of manager in it for the money. He’d even suggested that T.K. take a break whereas other managers would have tried to keep their top-earning talent working as much as possible. Judd wouldn’t care if he didn’t get another dime from T.K., but T.K. was too stubborn and too lost to take time from the spotlight. He needed music in his life.

“All celebrities of your caliber use bodyguards,” Judd explained, his accent muted slightly by LA influences. When he went home to Austin, Judd’s voice always reverted to its original sound just like T.K. always sounded most like a New Yorker when he was in New York. “It’s a security risk to let you go running around alone. I know you like your independence, but when you have as many fans as you do, things are bound to get out of control.” T.K. suspected Judd was less worried about fans than T.K.’s behavior.

“Yeah, and I’ve had fifteen bodyguards in the past six months alone. I think that’s quite enough.” The last thing T.K. needed was another big slab of man following him around with a faintly disapproving look. His former bodyguards all tried and failed to keep a neutral expression when they worked for him. They’d been discreet, but he could always see the way their eyebrows scrunched, and lips pushed together with a nearly inaudible grunt. Even when he was drunk and higher than the moon, T.K. could see the disdain or, worse, the pity, in their eyes. He was just another teenage star turned adult fuck up. He wore the badge as proudly as he could even though he hated himself for becoming an out of control stranger.

“You know I’m not happy with your revolving door of bodyguards. It’s a major hassle, but I’d rather hunt down schmucks willing to deal with you than for you to get into trouble. Believe it or not, I prefer you alive.” T.K.’s heart flipped at the sentiment, and for whatever reason, he felt touched. The warm feeling sent a surge of anxiety through his body because somewhere along the line he’d learned concern was dangerous. He fidgeted in his seat, trying to retain his cool demeanor.  

T.K. rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Dad,” he said before he could think. The joke scratched against T.K.’s tongue like sandpaper. He hadn’t used the word dad in… well, he couldn’t even remember how long. Since his dad had died, T.K. had always the term father to refer to all dads. Dad was too personal, so he usually saved that word only for use with his own father, whose memory had become terrifyingly blurry in T.K.’s mind.

Judd grunted, an affectionate, slightly exasperated grunt. You could tell a lot about Judd’s mood based on his grunt. Grace always joked that he had a language composed all of grunts. “Someone has to look out for you.” Because your dad is dead.

“I don’t want to be protected,” especially not by his big brother of a manager.

“Yeah, well I can’t trust you to quit your self-destructive shit. Sometimes I wonder…” Judd trailed off shaking his head. His voice had quivered, softer and more hesitant.

“What? Wonder what?” He was already starting to feel defensive.

“Never mind, kid. It doesn’t matter.” Judd bit his bottom lip, knowing that he had almost said too much. His eyes were concerned, which made T.K. feel angry more than loved. He didn’t like when Judd tried to give him “much needed guidance.”

“No, tell me, what is it?” T.K. hated being coddled and kept out of the loop even if it was for his own good.

Judd looked at the picture of Grace on his desk. Emotions were more her thing. She’d be much better at this, but T.K. was worth making the effort when need be. “It’s not something you’d want to hear.”

“I don’t care. Tell me.”

Judd sighed, worrying that this thought would do more harm than good, but it had been growing in his mind for a while. He took a deep breath. “Sometimes I wonder if it doesn’t matter to you if you live or die.” T.K. eyes shot up to meet Judd’s. He wasn’t sure where this conversation was headed, but he didn’t like it. Yet, he couldn’t retreat from it because he’d been the one to press Judd to tell him what he was thinking.

“I’m not suicidal.” It wasn’t like he was going to jump off a bridge or something. “I wouldn’t try to kill myself if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Maybe not. I’m not exactly the best person to talk about all this stuff but seems to me that you wouldn’t mind dying if it happened to you.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Judd,” but it did. T.K. knew exactly what Judd meant, and it scared him how close to the truth Judd was.

“I just think that it doesn’t scare you that one night you could overdose, and I think you’re playin’ Russian roulette with your life, half-hoping that maybe you won’t get lucky.”

“Psychoanalyzing is for shrinks.”

“Yeah, I know, but it can’t be healthy to be so unconcerned about your own mortality.”

“There wouldn’t be much I could do about it if I died, so I don’t bother worrying about it.” T.K. thought about death sometimes. He’d even imagined himself dying, but it wasn’t in a weird way he didn’t think. Everyone thought about it. Him maybe more than others.

“No, I guess not, but I’m just saying that it seems to me you’d be okay if it just ended, relieved even.”

“Not to get nihilistic or whatever, but there’s not much to live for is there? But it’s just like going to work. Each day, you just gotta do it.” Life, even the glamorous life of a superstar, could be a monotonous jumble of highs and lows, but T.K. had learned that there wasn’t much he could do about it. He had to keep trudging along even if he didn’t know where to or why.

“Man, I don’t know what to say to that, but I think you’ve got it all wrong. Life isn’t that grim.”

T.K. backtracked. “I didn’t mean to suggest it was. It isn’t all bad, really. It’s not like I always hate it or anything. I do have fun. I have my pick of men, and I get invited to lots of parties.” T.K. smirked. “I’m sure you’ve seen some of the viral videos.”

“Getting so wasted you can’t remember how many fingers you have ain’t fun.”

“You’re just lucky none of my sex tapes have been leaked, but let me tell you, they’d do real well on Pornhub.”

“Keep those to yourself. The ‘I only have six fingers’ video was enough of a nightmare.” It should have been humiliating, but T.K. had just laughed when it had come out. His management team had been clucking like hens, but something so silly wasn’t worth all that headache, so T.K. just reminded that everything that happened to him was one big cosmic joke.

“I don’t even remember that night honestly, but that’s the fun of it, Judd—forgetting all the things you normally have to remember.”

“Yeah, well, how ‘bout trying to remember a little more.  You’ll forget yourself if you’re not careful.”

“As long as I don’t forget how to carry a tune, I think I’ll be okay.” As long as he could still got on the stage and do his job, he’d be fine.

“You’re more than a singer.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be. Life would be so much better if you only had to be one thing.”

“I want you to slow down on the partying.”

T.K. laughed. “And you think a bodyguard can help me with that? Yeah, right.” T.K. didn’t believe he needed a bodyguard at all. He was a big boy, and he wasn’t going to wilt just because a crowd gathered trying to get his attention or he drank a little too much. Bodyguards were basically just pieces of furniture who turn into stone walls when danger struck.

“He’ll make sure you make it out in one piece. I’ve picked a great guy.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“I mean it with this one.”

T.K. exhaled, still not thrilled about the idea of having someone follow him around. “What’s his name?”

“Carlos Reyes, and I think he’s just your type.”

“My type?”

“Trust me. He’s the kind of guy you’d like. He’ll keep up with you.”

“Oh yeah? Another bald forty-year-old? You know that those Mr. Clean types really get me going. It would be really hot to see my reflection on one of their shiny heads. Narcissistic goals.”

“You better bet careful, T.K. One of these days someone will think you’re serious.”

“I am. That dude three, no four, bodyguards ago took me way too serious. I think he actually thought I was into him.”

“I think Aaron quit just because you kept calling him a sexy Mr. Clean.” Judd shook his head, smiling a little.

“I think that guy’s suit was glued to his body. He didn’t even try to fit in. Bodyguards should be discreet. Plus, I got homophobic vibes from him. Like the kind of guy who will say he’s fine with gay people but then ask who’s the woman in the relationship.”

“The new guy isn’t like that.”

“So, if he’s not like Mr. Clean, what is he like? Hot? Eighty years-old? An actual robot?”

Judd gestures a zip across his lips. “You’ll see his pretty face soon, Rockstar. He starts tomorrow.”

“Maybe give me a week. I need some me time before I’m shackled to a piece of meat. ”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Judd was decisive, “But no, you cannot have a week. I’ve already told him he could start tomorrow.” He left no room for arguments.

“Fine.” T.K. stood up from his chair, letting it teeter unsteadily with the force of him pushing it out behind him. The chair settled, all four legs back on the ground. T.K. took a breath. “I guess I better enjoy tonight, then, before this guy comes in to try to tame me.” T.K. winked. “Many men have tried. Very few have succeeded. Like Miley Cyrus would say, ‘I can’t be tamed.’”

“Don’t tell me you want to get on a wrecking ball for your next video?”

He shook his head. “That’s not controversial enough for my taste. Full frontal nudity or nothing. The wrecking ball would just get in the way.”

Judd didn’t feed into T.K.’s joke. He gave T.K. a firm look. “You’ll call me if you need a ride home?” Judd had long ago made it clear that he was always available if T.K. needed him, no questions asked. T.K. had never taken him up on that offer.

“I’m not the kind of fuck up who crashes his hundred-thousand-dollar car. I know to hire a driver if I’m going to drink,” among other things, “or I’m sure I’ll find a nice young man to take me home. Or old. I’m not that picky.”

Judd gave him a disapproving look because T.K. liked to jump in bed with people who didn’t give a damn about his wellbeing. “That’s what I’m worried about. One of these days the young man, or old one, won’t be so nice.”

T.K. liked that thought. Good guys weren’t his thing, after all. Sweet guys were cute, but they always seemed unobtainable, especially with how much T.K. expected of his men. He liked them tough, sometimes even mean. He liked to watch them fight for dominance. He liked to watch them puff their chests and try to pin him down. He liked to roll them over and tease them with his lips and tongue. He liked to give in just as much as he liked to resist. “Even better.”

[spring-emerald]

Hi... um... I'm not sure if you're taking a request but... Can I have TsukiKage roomate AU?

Thank you for your patience @hannycho12! I’ve been juggling two different roommates au, and this is the first one i’ve written when I got your request, before the inspiration for the other one came and I got more excited for that so I along with a friend developed it more than this one, but then I found that I couldn’t let go of this one, so I finished it and i really like how it came out... anyway i’m rambling. I hope you like it and I hope the wait was worth it! Enjoy! :)

----------

if music be the food of love

It starts, as most things does when it comes to Tsukishima, with Yamaguchi’s suggestion.

“Why don’t you try asking Kageyama?” he says over the phone.

“What?” Tsukishima asks, frowning a little at the suggestion as he easily sidesteps a group of elementary schoolboys gesticulating wildly with their stories while walking along the sidewalk.

“Try asking Kageyama,” Yamaguchi repeats with emphasis because he’s like that, even though he knows that the tone Tsukishima’s taken isn’t really asking him to repeat himself. “His uni is actually nearby your area and last I heard, he’s looking for a place to stay. Apparently, he turned his confirmation letter late and lost a slot for the dorms, so he had to find a place somewhere else,” Yamaguchi explained, like it was so easy.

Granted, it should be. And honestly, it would actually solve Tsukishima’s roommate problem. But then again, this is Kageyama they’re talking about and this is Tsukishima he’s talking to. Nothing was ever easy when the two of them are involved.

Tsukishima grunts in discontent and years of friendship allowed Yamaguchi to translate what it means even over the phone and without seeing his expression.

Why the King?

“Come on, Tsukki. Why not? It’s better to have a roommate that you know and can at least tolerate than a completely new stranger who you might not be able to tolerate, right?”

A long silence follows. Years of friendship allowed Tsukishima to feel Yamaguchi’s small, triumphant smile over the phone, even without seeing his expression.

Tsukishima huffs. He hates it when Yamaguchi is right.

And so it is. Six months of living together with Kageyama and Tsukishima still stands by begrudgingly accepting Yamaguchi’s suggestion for being right.

It turns out, Kageyama is actually a really, really decent roommate. Who would’ve thought?

Certainly not Tsukishima, especially not at first.

He’s counting on Kageyama being neat because he’d seen how he takes care of himself back then during camps and away games, and it’s usually a good indicator of how clean they are with their surroundings and living space as well, so that didn’t come as a surprise. And he’s already thankful for that, at the very least because that’s one thing he doesn’t have to worry about.  

What came as a surprise however, is the unexpected knowledge that Kageyama needs to have music playing in the background.

Tsukishima comes home one night, a little later than his usual time, even later than Kageyama who has to stay until well in the evening for volleyball practices, and arrives to a pop song playing in the Bluetooth speaker in the living room. He finds Kageyama seated on the rug, his bag and some textbooks sprawled over the coffee table, unbothered by the noise and even bobbing his head up and down to the rhythm as he silently mouths along whatever passage he’s reading.

Tsukishima moves on autopilot from the shock of this new discovery, mechanically putting the keys into the bowl by the doorway and just felt generally out of place, like he’d stepped into an alternate universe of sorts, and only snaps out of it when Kageyama is serving him re-heated take-out food so he can finally have his dinner.

“I didn’t take you for someone who would listen to Kpop, King” he says while breaking the chopsticks that came with the meal. ‘I didn’t take for someone who listens to music at all’ he tacks on in his mind.

Kageyama blinks at him then finally registers the question. “Ahhh… That’s Natsu’s influence. You know, Hinata’s sister? Whenever I visited them, she always showed off the new songs and dances she’d learned.”

Tsukishima hums around the chopstick as he quietly chews his food, taking his word for it, but Kageyama seems to take it as expression of discontent.

“Does it bother you?” He asks, a little hesitant. Their arrangement is still fairly new and while they get into petty arguments right here and there, they already have established rules, though none of which covers playing music on the speaker. He didn’t think Tsukishima would be against it, knowing how Tsukishima also likes listening to music.

“No,” Tsukishima replies. “I don’t mind, as long as it isn’t too loud. I was just surprised that Your Highness was the type to always want some background music.”

“Well, living alone in a big house has something to do with that,” Kageyama shrugs. He further admits to Tsukishima that the house gets too quiet sometimes and that he had even spooked himself on some occasions because he wasn’t sure if he’s actually hearing things or just imagining them.

He tells it so nonchalantly, so dismissingly, but Tsukishima can’t help but imagine Kageyama alone in the house, doing chores or whatever with only having music for company just to try and fill the normal chatter, the normal sound of life going about that would surround a typical household. He puts down his chopsticks, his stomach twists because of uncharacteristic pity and the food he’s eating seems bland all of a sudden.

“Do whatever you want then,” he finally says. “As long as it’s not too loud or disturbing.”

Kageyama looks at him surprised, before the wobbly smile of happiness he’s wont to show when he’s grateful appears on his face, making his eyes sparkle and his cheeks pinker. Tsukishima’s stomach twists again but because of something else.

Since then, there would always be soft music playing around the house, and he’ll always find Kageyama whispering along as he washes the dishes, or swaying along as he mops and sweeps the floor when they’re cleaning.

And if some kpop songs with fast pumping beat found its way on Tsukishima’s music player, then it just goes to show that he is capable of listening and liking other genres, and is not a music elitist as Yamaguchi thought him to be.

And if they sometimes have an impromptu sing-off or dance-off (which Yamaguchi didn’t thought him to be capable of) well, it just makes living with Kageyama bearable, and dare he say it, even enjoyable.

[jodiereedus22]

Regrets

A/N: This was requested by @louistwinslover, so sorry it took sooooo long, for some reason I thought I had already posted it!! But here it is!!! I hope its what you wanted!!! 

Word Count: 2661

Trigger Warnings: Slight Panic Attack

The group had been run ragged, everything seemed to go wrong every time there was a chance.

First the CDC was a bust. The RV had broken down on the road to Fort Benning, leaving everyone in a precarious position. And this time was no exception, this was the most dangerous position you had ever been in.

When the herd finally filtered through the maze of cars, you thought you were all safe, that was until Sophia ran into the woods, Rick in tow, only for him to come back empty handed.

It was a dark day for everyone, losing someone always was, but Sophia, she was just a kid, it weighed heavy on everyone’s heart.

To top that off , what seemed like the endless list of misfortunes, you had gotten word that Carl had been shot and was residing on a farm not too far by.

Not wanting to give up the search quite yet, you stayed behind with a few of your group members to continue the search.

You mostly went out with Daryl, the two of you seemed to have this infallible connection when you were out there. You trusted one another, you didn’t know how that trust came about, but somehow it did, and you made a good pair.

After a day or so of fruitless searching, you all decided it was best to re-join the rest of your group at the farm, get a handle on things, and start again properly.

With multiple people pulled out of the search – Rick on doctors’ orders, Shane because of his ankle – it was up to you and Daryl to find this little girl.

Hours upon hours of looking, no clues to speak of and losing light, you decided to call it a night.

It was a quiet and solemn walk back to the farm with a disgruntled Daryl, you knew he meant well, you had probably spent more time with him than the others, you saw a side to him he probably didn’t mean to show to you, but you saw it.

He wore his heart on his sleeve, and he felt the loss of that little girl strongly, and you wanted to find her, not necessarily for yourself, maybe not even for Sophia or Carol. But for him.

He needed this, you weren’t sure why, whether because it’s a little girl, maybe because he felt protective, maybe it was for himself, to feel some self-worth, but whatever the reason, you were gonna be there for him.

Exiting out of the woods, with just a field in between you and the farm, you made your way towards your little camp, walking slightly behind Daryl as he took point.

You decided you wanted to say something, anything to let Daryl know you were on his side, so you picked up your pace a little to walk side by side.

You walked in silence for a little bit, contemplating what you were gonna say.

“We’ll find her,” you spoke up as Daryl turned his head towards you in surprise at your words.

“We will,” you said sterner when you saw him look at you.

Daryl didn’t respond in words but with a nod, that was enough for you, you knew Daryl was a man of very few words, to him actions counted more than words.

Once returned to your small campsite you bid Daryl good night and headed to your tent.

Removing your shoes and getting comfy, your eyes closed as soon as your head hit the pillow.

Waking up the sound of bustling in the camp and the smell of breakfast, you arose, to find you were the last one up.

Saying a few good mornings to people you quickly got to your duties and had a little breakfast.

Looking around camp you saw that Daryl was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey,” you said leaning over to T-Dog. “Have you seen Daryl anywhere?” you asked.

“Nope, he must’ve got up early to look for Sophia,” T-Dog told you.

“Okay,” you said, slightly confused.

You had always gone out with Daryl, maybe it’s because you overslept, you didn’t know, all you knew was you were going to go out there and find him, you wanted to help.

By the time you had gotten all your chores done that was required, it was getting later into the afternoon, slightly worried about Daryl being out there for so long on his own you decided to get your stuff together.

A commotion outside your tent drew you from packing, upon exiting you saw a few people running in the same direction, grabbing your knives you followed them into the field.

Running far behind them you heard a gunshot ring out and the supposed walker go down. When rick started shouting you realised that something wasn’t right, and your heart began to sink at Rick’s desperate tone.

Picking up as much pace as you could, arriving to see Rick and Shane pull up what you thought would be a walker, only turned out to be Daryl, covered in blood, a wound on his side and now on his head, you couldn’t help but give off a worried look.

“He’ll be okay, I promise,” Rick stopped just in front of you, reassuring you when he saw the look on your face.

Not being able to respond you nodded and followed them up into the house where Hershel could take care of him.

Once Hershel had finished patching him up he told everyone that Daryl needed rest, so you pulled yourself away from the door, in which you had been standing at ever since they brought him up, and headed downstairs to get some food.

Once you finished yours you decided to take some up for Daryl, he needed to get his strength back up and food was a good start.

You gently knocked on the door, and slowly made your way into his room.

Coming around the door, you saw Daryl quickly cover up, it hurt you to see him like this, a bandage on his side, one on his head, looking tired and defeated.

“I brought you some food,” you said gently, not wanting to make too much noise.

Daryl said nothing only responded with a grunt.

You placed the food down on the bedside table.

“You need to eat Daryl, please,” you pleaded, as Daryl looked up he saw the look in your eyes, he picked up the plate and started to eat, you didn’t know if it was because he knew you cared, or to shut you up, you didn’t care as long as he had something to eat.

You turned away from him and started making your way to the door, with one hand on it ready to close it you spoke up.

“You shouldn’t have gone out there alone, you should have waited for me, or better yet woken me up,” you said with a sad tinge to your voice.

All you could think about was if you were there you could have helped, and he wouldn’t have gotten so hurt.

“Don’t need no babysitter,” Daryl grunted at you.

You looked at him, a sad look in your eyes, you thought he was different with you, that’s what it always seemed like, maybe you were wrong.

Not wanted to get into an argument, for Daryl’s sake, he needed his strength, you decided not to say something smart.

“Fine,” was all you said as you closed the door behind you and made your way back to your tent.

A couple of days had passed since Daryl’s accident and his comment to you, you hadn’t spoken to each other since.

You didn’t know if you were pissed at his comment or just giving him some space, sometimes that’s what Daryl needed, all you knew was - you missed him.

Even if you never really held a proper conversation, you missed his presence.

You woke up at your usual time the next morning only to find, yet again, that Daryl wasn’t around, knowing where he went you wasted no time in going after him this time.

You packed your things and headed towards the woods.

You weren’t a tracker, whatever skills you had – which were limited at the best of times - you had learnt from Daryl.

If ever there was a time to put them in good use, this was it.

Following a trail, you believed was Daryl’s you made your way farther into the trees, looking back, hoping you could find your way out of here if you needed to.

You carried on following a trail, you heard rustling in the trees ahead of you.

It was getting denser the farther in you went, so you got out your knife, getting prepared for whatever it was and made your way closer to the noise.

Stalking slowly through the undergrowth, staying as silent as possible you got a fright when you suddenly had a crossbow pointing at your face.

“Damn it (Y/N), I could’a killed ya,” Daryl shouted.

“Well it’s a good thing you ain’t trigger-happy then isn’t it?” you remarked.

“Why ya here?” Daryl asked begrudgingly.

“Why do you think? You’re injured Daryl, you shouldn’t have come out here all this way without back up, you heard what Rick said,” you said following Daryl as he continued his search.

“I told ya, I don’ need no babysitter, and I don’ have ta do everything Rick says, I do wha’ I want,” Daryl argued, not even looking back to talk to you.

“I just want to help you that’s all,” you pleaded with him.

Without warned Daryl turned on his heel and with large strides made his way towards you with anger in his eyes.

“I don’t need ya help, I don’t need anyone’s help, I’m better on my own, now why don’t you just leave me the hell alone and go back, I don’t wan’ ya here,” Daryl shouted, getting into your face.

You knew deep down that Daryl would never hurt you, but you couldn’t deny that at that moment you were scared of him.

Keeping contact with his anger filled eyes, you took a step back. With tears burning the back of your eyes you refused to let Daryl see he got the better of you and you turned on your heel without saying a word and headed back the way you came.

Walking clumsily back through the tree you hit every branch of your way back in frustration, with tears streaming down your cheeks, you didn’t know if they were from anger or from sadness, sadness that Daryl could speak to you like that, after everything you had been through, the connection you thought you had, maybe you dreamed it all up.

With all those thoughts swimming through your mind, you were paying no attention to your surrounding area, by the time you heard the noises it was too late.

A walker had come out of nowhere and grabbed you by your hair, making you lose balance and fall straight onto your back, knocking the wind out of you.

Trying to catch your breath you kicked the walker as much as you could whilst trying to shuffle yourself backwards to get more space from the walker so you could get back onto your feet and have an advantage.

But for whatever reason this walker seemed to get the better of you, with the walker grabbing your feet and pulling you towards its chomping jaws, you let out a desperate scream as you tried to reach for your knife.

Struggling to escape from the walker’s grip, and your knife seemingly impossible to grasp at, you continued screaming, knowing that this was it, in the middle of nowhere with no one around to save you, this was how you were going to die.

Time seemed to slow down as you saw your fate before your eyes, saw what you were destined to become, there was no getting out of this situation, no miracle that was going to intervene.

In that moment you realised who you were, you were a fighter, you had survived this world so far, and you weren’t gonna let yourself go out this way.

With whatever strength you could muster you began fighting back as hard as you could, screaming yourself into a fight mode.

Tears streaming down your face, your eyes blurred and your breathing getting less manageable by the second, you knew you needed to do this now.

But before you could give yourself that last push the walker went limp and an arrow protruding from its head.

Your brain couldn’t keep up with everything that happened in what all seemed in an instant, when a pair of hands grabbed you again.

You tried with everything you had to fight back, but you were losing strength every time you moved your body.

With blurry vision and what clearly was a panic attack setting in, you managed to make out the thing grabbing you was talking to you.

You felt two hands gently placed on either of your cheeks. When your vision slightly started to return you started to make out the figure in front of you.

It was Daryl.

You could see his lips moving, but you couldn’t hear anything coming out of them, which panicked you more.

With Daryl leaning in even closer to your face you started to make out what he was saying.

“Breathe (Y/N), just breathe, you’re okay now, ya hear me, you’re safe, just breathe. Follow me okay!” Daryl said as loudly as he could making sure you could hear him, at the same time sounding gentle and caring.

You couldn’t utter a word so instead - to show him you could hear him - you nodded.

Daryl started to slowly breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth, as he encouraged you to follow, you started to copy what he was doing.

Slowly your breathing was getting back to normal, your vision was returning, and you could hear Daryl more clearly.

“Ya okay?” Daryl asked, placing his hand back on your cheek as he leaned in.

“I’m fine, I’m good,” you said still a little breathless from the panic attack, checking your body for any sign of bites or scratches, much to your relief you found none.

Without a word Daryl pulled you into his chest and embraced you, you felt safe wrapped in his arms, breathing in his scent. You knew you were going to be alright now.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N), so so sorry,” Daryl said apologising as he pulled away so he could look at you. “It’s ma fault, I should never have sent you away, you could’ve died ‘cause of me, I’m sorry,” Daryl said tears slowly making their way down his cheek, cutting lines into the dirt that caked his face. 

“Hey,” you said taking his face in your hands to make him look at you. “I’m here, I’m alive, and that’s because of you. You can’t blame yourself for everything, I know I don’t.”

As Daryl looked you in the eyes another tear fell.

You wiped the tear away with your thumb.

“It’s okay,” you repeated.

Staring into each other’s eyes, you leaned in closer and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, as you pulled away you saw Daryl still gazing straight into your eyes, a small smile graced your lips as he stroked your cheek with his thumb.

Then out of nowhere, he used the hand already on your cheek to pull you in for another kiss, this time harder, more desperate, but still loving.

You both pulled away, slightly breathless, but this time from the kiss and not a panic attack.

You sat there together for a little while, making sense of what just happened.

Daryl then stood up, offering a hand for you to join him and you made your way back to the farm, hand in hand. 

Taglist: @crossbowking @viraloutbreakcontrol @coffee-obsessed-writer @bluesfortheredj @shutupimtryin2write @crowleysreigningqueenofhell @selenedixon @cbarter @cole-winchester @alyisdead @hopplessdreamer @infinitewcr @blogsporadicartist @mtngirlforever @serfyan18 @sassi-luna @twdsunshine @momc95 @emo-potato-virgil @sourwolf-sterek32 @tatertot1097 @wilhelmjfink @coffeebooksandfandom @twdeadfanfic @cutiepiemimi13 @kickin-with-dixon @feartheendlesssummer @twdeadlysins @apocalypse-haven @baseballbitch116

IF ANYONE WANTS TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST JUST LET ME KNOW!!! <3 <3 <3

[01010010-posts]

— nightmare's insomnia.

requests: Hi! I love all your writings!! c: soooo... this morning I woke from a bad dream about Connor getting hurt (I believe Gavin did it) I woke just after it happened and was really upset I didn't have connor there to comfort me... maybe you could do a post about all three of them all there to comfort you when you wake up?? If you want... omg I'm sorry for rambling. Have a nice day!!!💖

HeyA! You might get this alot- but just wanted to add to the list lmao. Your writing is amAZEBALLS! I love how your so laid back in your writing and its HILARIOUS how you express the RK's!! so; if you don't mind, can I request some fluff about the reader having trouble seeping ((cuz that's legit what's going on now lol)) and the RK's are being adorable and protective as always? You don't have to if you don't wanna, but no harm in asking :) Thanks!

disclaimer – don��t fucking watch tv if you can’t sleep JUST DON’T OKAY IT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE SHIT NO VERY BRIGHT PHONE EITHER BABIES don’t listen to RK800-60 he’s the fucking fren that tells you that yes punching a road sign at twoAM and drinking carbonated drinks is a fucking reasonable thing to do just because me: idk if fusing them was a good thing or not but i liked the idea mhhhhHHmmH also me: taking advantage of kind people that said that i make funny headcanons and making the fluff that they asked for but putting a lot of stupidity in it i’m sorry it’s just who i am as a person

Connor:

• he very much likes ‘sleeping’ with you so he’s always in rest mode when it’s night • and he doesn’t notice that you’re awake bc you’ve had a nightmare • you stay in silence for something like five minutes but • but then you guiltily tug the hem of his t-shirt • and he slowly wakes up • he sheepishly smiles at you and asks what’s wrong • aaaah but now you feel so guilty • you just hug him and hide your head against his chest • he giggles a little and hugs you back • he starts stroking your hair • “what’s wrong?” he asks again • you mutter something that he doesn’t understand • “mh? I can’t hear you like this, [name]” • doesn’t he fucking have dolby surround newest audio processor or something • “i said that i can’t sleep” • “and why is that?” • “i had a nightmare” • he hums a tiny bit and kisses your head • “do you want to tell me?” • you don’t want to but you begrudgingly do so • “i dreamt about you getting hurt” • he laughs a little and hugs you more tightly this time • “you know that i always upload my memory so i’d come back like nothing happened. of course i’d need some repairs but nothing that a CyberLife technician can’t handle” • “yeah but…. in the dream you didn’t come back” • oh, that’s…. • he presses his lips firmly without saying anything • and just continues cuddling you • “can we stay awake tonight? please?” • he shakes his head a little, smiling again now • “i can go to work tomorrow even if i don’t ‘rest’ tonight but what about you?” • “don’t worry about me! please please please!” • if you say please one more time he’s gonna melt • “and, if we stay awake, i said if mind you [name], what would you like to do?” • “mmmh we can…. we can watch tv! that series that you like very much!” • he raises a questioningly brow at you • but in the end he gives up • and turns on the tv with his super android powers

RK900:

• since he’s an advanced model he doesn’t need to recharge that much • and since he’s a sucker for you he doesn’t go into standby mode every night • actually watching your sleeping face is more satisfying than ‘resting’ • and he gets to hug you and kiss you so??? • 100% worth it • but when you wake up in the middle of the night? • your face a sweaty mess • he becomes very worried • his LED is fucking crimson • he lets his grasp on you falls lose just in case you need air • he also waits for you to calm down • and when you’re done he gently asks you what’s wrong • “i had this fucking nightmare i– it was so vivid.” you whisper still scared • and he honestly doesn’t know how to react • dreams and nightmares alike are beyond his comprehension • they are such an abstract concept • all of his knowledge on this kind of things it’s from your experience so • so he just does what he knows best: cuddles you • and he’s so gentle, like you are made of stained glass • he kisses and hugs you as long as you need • he murmures sweet nothings into your ears • even when his software tells him that your heartbeat has stabilized long ago he doesn’t stop pampering you • he behaves like this bc he wants you to feel better • but also because he’s so scared of something bad happening to you • even if it’s just a dream • “you should sleep now, don’t worry, i’ll be here for you during the night.” • you know he will be there, awake • “i don’t want to” you pout • and he snorts a little, relieved now, because you’ve returned to your usual self • “what are you, a human child?” • “what if i am?” • that’s a dangerous game you’re playing there little brat • “very well then i’ll stop kissing you since kissing a human child might not be seen as an appropriate action.” • !! fuck he’s really smart • “since when do you care about what humans deem ‘appropriate’?” you smirk • oKAY YOU MAY HAVE WON THIS ROUND BUT IT WAS JUST STROKE OF LUCK • and he smiles a little and kisses your temple “but you need to work tomorrow” • “i’ll just drink some coffee” • he sighs because you drink too much coffee but • “then what would you like to do?” • just tell him whatever the fuck you want to do • do you see how weak he is for you? •  he’s letting you awake for almost an entire night i mean he’s putty in your hands • you could tell him that you want to watch ‘magnum, p.i.’ and he’ll be ‘alright’ • ofc course the next morning you’re a mess of a sleepy person but?? worth it • he teases you and makes you sleep early the same night

RK800-60:

• you would think that he ‘sleeps’ every night • i mean since he likes humans things so much • and since he’s just so hyperactive • but no, he just charges when he needs to • he actually prefers being with you in complete silence • he likes to occupy the time by replaying the day in his head • sometimes if he’s really helpless and replaying everything it’s not enough he just gets up • and starts to do things • he might or might not try to prepare your breakfast at 4AM • or will start to do chores like laundry or cleaning • but in the end he returns to bed like a tired kitty before you wake up so you don’t get startled first thing in the morning • so when he hears you fumbling on the bed he sticks his head out and looks into the dark bedroom • you’re awake!! • i mean bad human! you should sleep!  • he smiles widely and gets on the bed • but his smile turns into a frown very quickly • “is everything all right, baby?” • “not quite” • and he kicks his slippers off and curls up with you • “what’s wrong?” • “i had a bad dream” • he bites his lips and makes a sad face • “i’m sorry about that” • he rubs your back while you softly nod • “do you want me to make you some chamomile? with honey maybe? it’ll help you sleep again” • “i don’t want to sleep again tonight….” you grumble • you said the magic words • “but you have work tomorrow morning” that’s a weak protest • “i know but…. pretty please?” • do you need to say more? come on it’s him • he kisses you • and then disappears into the kitchen • and then you hear it!! you hear popcorns popping • he comes back grinning • “two minutes and they’re ready, what do you want to watch, sweetie?”