#i need to sleep. im somewhere between fine and not okay in the slightest

[the-kipsabian]

..the realization that he wasnt wearing eyeliner for that bit is fucking me up so badly rn ngl

[sokkabeifong]

Can you write some tokka angst 🙏

ofc I can anon and IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE but better late than never I guess. this is set in modern times because modern times are fun to write for tokka okay? a bit longer than usual but the more angst the better am I right

Toph had promised Sokka that she’d go to the hospital when it happened, so that’s exactly what she’d done. She hadn’t promised that she’d actually get anyone’s attention. Or check in. Or ask for help.

Although… the contractions were getting more insistent, and she doubted the medical staff would leave her alone if she stripped off the stupid maternity pants and just squatted down right there on the lobby floor.

With a heavy sigh, she waddled her way over to the nearest front desk. Spirits, she hadn’t been in a hospital in years. She wasn’t even sure what the different branches and buildings and desks were all for. But there was no way that she was giving birth at home. Katara was in medical school, sure, but she wasn’t done. And Toph wasn’t about to risk her life and her child’s life for a “practice trial.”

Still, there was something unnerving about the hospital, with its stuffy feeling and too-squeaky floor. It feels clean, clean in a way that you can just sense. She didn’t need sight to tell her just how antibacterial this place was.

A pinging, traitorous part of her wishes that someone was here with her, that she didn’t have to do this alone. But it was her own stupid pride that had taken a cab all alone in a Wednesday night, and the only person she truly wanted present was somewhere she could never get him back from. She’d promised him before he died that she would go to the hospital if she felt even the slightest change. He wanted her to be safe, he said.

And now, of course, Sokka was dead and gone while she was here, swollen belly stretching out her sweater and maternity pants. As much of an annoyance as labor would be, getting the thing out of her was going to be a blessing. She’d spent too long unbalanced and vulnerable to attack.

“Can I help you?”

Toph was broken out of her musings by the question from someone sitting at the closest desk. She turned her head to where she hoped the person, a woman by the sound of it, would be.

“I hope so,” she smiled, falling back into a generic cover ID face. “I should probably see a doctor.”

“All right,” said the woman. She heard the clicking of nails on a keyboard, then something sliding across the desk. “Why don’t you take one of these forms, fill it out, and bring it back here?”

“Can’t ,” she said shortly. “I’m blind.”

“No worries.” The woman clicked her pen open like she had blind pregnant ladies come into the ER every day. Who knew - maybe she did. “I’ll ask you the questions and you answer, okay?”

“Okay.” Toph winced as another contraction hit her. At least the protruding baby bump gave her something to lean against. She made sure to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth as the woman began questioning her, just as Katara had instructed her to do. I’m a few hours, the whole thing would be over and then - she bit her lip and redirected her thoughts.

She wished Sokka was -

She redirected that thought, too.

“Reason for your visit?” the woman asked, yapping the pen against the clipboard.

Toph waited a moment before she turned around yet again, because she was in the middle of another contraction and couldn’t decide whether she’d rather scream or just go ahead and kill the lady.

“My contractions are about eight minutes apart,” she said.

The lady blinked once and then repeated, “They’re eight minutes apart from each other? So you’re in labor. Are you in active labor?”

Toph smiled sweetly. “Are you asking me to stick my fingers down and see whether or not I’m dilated to seven centimeters?”

To the woman's credit, the crudity didn't seem to faze her, and she plowed ahead with, “Ma’am, this is the ER. We’re not equipped for a birth. I’ll call you a wheelchair immediately, and we’ll get you up to Labor and Delivery. Trust me, it’ll be faster than checking in here and waiting for a transfer.”

“Where’s Labor and Delivery?”

“Fourth floor, and I -”

“I’ll just walk over there. It’s fine.”

“Ma’am, I really must insist. You’ve technically checked in—” she waved the yellow paper “—and you’re our responsibility now.”

Toph leaned heavily against the counter and deftly snatched the page out of the woman’s hand. At least her coordination was still functional.

“There. Now I didn’t check in, and I’m my own problem.”

“Ma’am, please. You’re in no condition to go wandering the hospital, whether you take that against your pregnancy or your eyesight. Let me just call someone to wheel you over.”

Luckily for the woman, another contraction rendered her unable to give a snappy retort. She waited for it to pass, quietly, quickly, then faced the lady once more.

“Fine,” she said tightly. “Fine. Fine.”

“Thank you,” the lady said, obviously relieved. Apparently she did not deal with stubborn blind pregnant women on the daily.

By the time she had been put in a wheelchair and taken through the long halls and winding corridors to Labor and Delivery, Toph had managed to calm herself down. Not because the situation was in any way calming, but because she’d stressed her body and mind out enough that she’d fallen into full-blown mission mode.

Which was fine. It’d probably be easier to give birth with that attitude.

“Well, you seem pretty together, Toph,” the nurse gushed as she checked in yet again at the front desk. “We’ll get you back as soon as possible. For now, if you can just take a seat in one of those chairs, and listen for your name.”

Toph let her real self fade into the background, giving over control to the five other women sitting in the waiting room, and promptly closed her eyes. If she was going to be in pain, she might as well rest while she could.

-

The calm blind girl out in the lobby was already a topic of discussion.

It wasn’t completely unheard of for someone to come in alone. Life was weird and sometimes people gave birth without anyone they knew to help them through the experience. But this girl? The calm young girl with ebony in her hair and in her eyes wasn’t any of the typical stories. She was clean and put together. She was calm and young and looked like the kind of person who would have a dozen friends by her side, even if the father of the child was no longer in the picture.

And yet, there she sat. First in the waiting room and then in her hospital room.

Alone.

Moreover, Miss Toph Beifong had claimed on her paperwork that her contractions were now five minutes apart. However, she was sitting too calmly for that. In fact, the nurse had sat with phone in hand and timed out more than ten minutes, and the girl hadn’t moved once. She’d sat there calmly. No wincing, no cursing, no crying.

It wasn’t until the nurse pulled the woman back and got down to take a look that anyone believe the claim at all.

"Shit,” the nurse murmured.

The doctor startled and glanced up to see if Toph had been offended by the curse. Fortunately, the girl seemed more concerned with how many fingers she had, and didn’t seem to have heard.

“What?” the doctormurmured, more quietly.

“Her cervix is nine centimeters,” the nurse answered.

“Shit,” the doctor echoed.

-

By the end of it all, Toph had decided she did not like labor. She’d made that decision before she began crowning, and nothing that followed did anything to change that. While she had experienced worse pain in her life, she had never experienced that kind of pain.

She had once spent four straight hours being absolutely crushed by a girl at the gym and, at the peak of labor, she was pretty sure she’d trade out that experience for her current one.

Nevertheless, she didn’t scream. She screwed up her eyes and doubled her body up and flexed her fingers. Tears leaked from her eyes from the sheer stress of it all. But her lips remained tightly closed. The skin around them grew white from where she bit them between her teeth, and the nurses were afraid she’d draw blood.

One well-intentioned nurse had advised that she just give in and cry out.

Toph had rolled her eyes, widened her legs, and pushed again.

In the end, nature was inevitable. Toph had always had someone to remind her to take good care of her body, so the whole experience was over in a few hours. She collapsed back against the wet bedding. There was sweat and blood and who-knew-what all over her, and she’d probably never feel clean again.

There was screaming in the background, and her eyes finally focused on the small infant being washed by the hospital staff.

Then her view was cut off by the ring of congratulating nurses.

“It’s a beautiful girl. Do you have the name ready for her?”

“Call it Toph, for all I fucking care,” Toph murmured, too quietly for anyone to make out. She turned over on her side, away from the child, and shut her eyes tight.

-

Later that night, after hours of tossing and turning in her sleep, Toph was awoken by the small mewing sound coming from her bedside. She sighed. She’d tried to have the baby whisked away to some far-off nursery where she wouldn’t have to ignore its presence, but apparently the hospital didn’t “do that anymore.”

Spirits, she felt so empty. Tired and empty and drained.

Deciding she could avoid it no further, Toph feels her way to the other side of the bed. The hospital is quiet, and she can’t even guess what time it is. Probably late at night. She waddled over to the bassinet, and the mewing became a full-fledged scream.

She jumped. The baby continued screaming, but less so, as if it hadn’t realized anyone was there. She found herself reaching down, feeling the child, the blankets, so afraid she would drop it or break it or… worse. For a moment she hesitated.

This is your baby, she thinks. You’re allowed to pick it up. It’s yours. And his. You can pick it up.

Her. She could almost hear Sokka’s voice echo through the room, reminding her that their child wasn’t an it. The thought made her smile.

Slowly, carefully, as though her life depended on it, Toph lowered her arms around the tiny, tiny baby and lifted her up. The baby stopped bawling and snuggled against her mother’s chest.

“Hello,” she said stupidly, like the kid could respond. But her mouth kept moving. “Um. Uh, my name’s Toph. I’m your - Spirits, I guess I’m your mom now, huh?”

The baby gurgled, her lips curled like she might cry again. Toph hurried to keep talking.

“Oh, God, um. What else, what else… uh, you have a bunch of aunts and uncles,” she said. “They’re all gonna help raise you. They’re annoying sometimes, but they mean well. You’re our first baby, you know.”

Our. The word made Toph close her eyes for a second. Try as she might, there would be no more “our.” There was only “she.” The “our” in her partnership was long gone. How was she supposed to tell her child that?

She decided to start with the basics.

“Your daddy was so brave,” she whispered. It hurt to talk about Sokka in the past tense, but she kept going. “He was so, so strong and brave and I just know he would have loved to meet you. He already loved you, you know. He wanted to meet you so bad, kid. He just never got the chance.”

The baby blinked, her eyelids heavy like hearing about the father she would never meet was too much for one night. Toph wholeheartedly agreed and set her down in the bassinet once more, making sure she was secure before plodding back to her own bed and face-planting on the blankets.

The nurse had told her the baby’s eyes were blue. She let that thought sink into her heart before drifting off to sleep.

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//just criss-cross things. bokuto koutarou//

Request: Because of you- Im getting hella forced to rank Bo higher up in my list so can I ask for any fluff of him too?- all writing reign is up to you bby- asdfghjkl

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 1.8K

Notes:  i hate that i wrote an almost 2K word fic about BRAIDING HIS HAIR

There was a routine in the Bokuto household.  The alarm went off promptly at 8:30 every morning and was snoozed with a tired groan until at least 8:45.  Your boyfriend would roll over, slowly opening his eyes to give you a sleep smile.  He’d plant his lips to yours, his upper half hovering slightly over your body, letting you run his fingers through his bedhead, knowing just how much you loved it when it sat softly against his forehead rather than styled into its normal spikes.  He would whisper a gentle, “Good morning,” voice still heavy from sleep, nuzzling his nose with yours.  Those five minutes of soft morning affection were always his favorite part of the day.

But, he’d roll out of bed, remembering what time it was and that he only had an hour before he needed to get going.  You would go make a pot of morning tea while he was in the bathroom, showering and going through his regular morning routine.  It was rare when things were thrown out of balance, but no matter what, it always felt like your little world was crashing down around you.  Sure, it sounded dramatic, but mornings tended to be rushed already.  There was little room for error in the tightly knit schedule.  

But when you heard Bokuto’s heavy groan of frustration bubbling from his chest as you were pouring the steaming tea into two mugs, you weren’t sure what was wrong, but you knew that it couldn’t be good.  You were already on your way to the bathroom to see what happened when he called out a loud, “Babe!”

Pushing the door open, you didn’t know what you were expecting.  But, Bokuto with half of his hair spiked up?  That was not it.  He just turned to look at you, puppy eyes filled with sadness.  “I’m out of hair gel,” he mutters, lips contorting into a pout as he shows you his empty container.

“I thought you went and got some yesterday, Kou?”

He see him shift awkwardly in his place, hand going to rub the back of his neck.  “Well, you see, I was going to but then, you know that pet shop on the way to the store?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you-”

“I wanted to play with bunnies and then, I just forgot!”  He whines, voice filled with exasperation, throwing his hands up in frustration with his one-track mind.  “But, now what am I supposed to do? I can’t go out like this,” he points to his hair disaster, “and if I leave it down, it gets in my eyes and I won’t be able to concentrate on practice, because I keep having to push it back!”

You place a hand on his back and push him towards the shower.  “Why don’t you wash the gel out and we’ll see what we can do, okay?”

“But, I already showered!  I don’t have time for another!”

“It’s just your hair, baby.  It’ll take you five minutes.”

Your boyfriend nods, not having any other solution to his current predicament.  And you were right, in a matter of minutes, he was out of the shower, hair plastered down against his forehead as if it had never been gelled in the first place.  Back in his clothes for practice, he sat up on the counter, furiously rubbing a towel against his hair while you rummaged through the cabinets, trying to find anything that could keep his hair out of his face.  You could use hair spray, but it probably wouldn’t be a strong enough hold.  You had a thin elastic headband, but as much as he moved around, it would just fall off his head more than it would stay.   Bobby pins? No, Bokuto would probably fidget with them like he always did when they were in your hair. 

It’s while he’s watching you contemplate a solution that he has one of the best ideas he’s ever had.  He tugs on a strand of your hair to get your attention.  “You know that criss-cross thing you do?”

“Criss-cross thing?  What are you talking about, Kou?”  You ask, looking up at him.

“You know, the thing with your hair.  The criss-cross thing!” He shouts, hopping down from the counter in excitement, rummaging through a drawer.  He knew that you kept them in here somewhere . . . 

Bokuto is beaming as bright as the early morning sun as he holds up your little container of elastics.  “You can do that to my hair!”

Your mouth opens in a little “Oh” as you finally figure out what the hell he was babbling about.  “You want me to braid your hair?”

“Yeah!”

“I don’t know, baby,” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, examining it’s length.  It was longer than it usually was, sure, but it was still pretty short.  But, Bokuto was looking at you with expectant golden eyes, a look that he knew you could never refuse.  “I’ll try my best.”

He gives a hoot of excitement, wrapping his strong arms around you.  “You’re the best!  Okay, so what do I do!?”  The man is practically bouncing as he stares down at you, ready to do whatever he must to let this to be executed as well as possible.

“I just need you to sit,” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder to try to get him to sit, but he refuses to budge.

“Wait.  Can I make a bowl of cereal first?”

You can’t suppress your little giggles and just nod your head.  “Yeah.  Go get yourself some breakfast, baby.”

You don’t even have to say another word before he’s bounding towards the kitchen.  In a matter of seconds, he’s sitting on the floor of the living room in front of you, a bowl of Lucky Charms in his hands.  He had the television on, reruns of your favorite sitcom playing on the screen.  You would’ve taken a picture of him right then and there if you weren’t pressed for time.

You part his hair down the center where he normally separates his spikes.  You take three sections from the front, pausing before you start the ‘criss-cross thing.’  “Kou, if I pull your hair too much or it feels too tight, just let me know, okay?”

He just turns his head so he can smile up at you.  “Oh, come on, babe!  The criss-cross thing can’t be that bad!  I’m a tough guy.  I’ll be fine.”

And he was, but you on the other hand?  You were not.  Your fingers were cramping from tightly holding his hair before you were even done with the first braid.  It was way harder than you had initially thought.  The short strands of grey hair kept slipping from between your fingers, frustrating you further.

But, Bokuto didn’t notice in the slightest.  He was so lost in the gentle tugs of his hair and the feeling of your fingernails gently raking his scalp as you collected another section.  You should’ve seen his content grin, happily munching on his cereal, wiggling happily in his spot, cute little hoots and hums escaping him every few moments.  He looked like a happy toddler, watching Saturday morning cartoons.  

He’s shaken from his bliss by a firm hand on his shoulder, “Baby, I need you to sit still,” you say, tying off the end of the first braid.  It only spanned down to the crown of his head and the hairs at the nape of his neck were left out, but the braid accomplished what it needed to. 

Bokuto takes your words into accounts and stops moving. You can hear him give a little “Hmph” as he settles down, sitting firmly into his spot to finish off his cereal while you get to work on the remaining section of hair.  

Fingers near exhaustion and hand muscles tensing with each passing criss-cross motion, you manage to pull your boyfriend’s hair into two little braids.  “Kou, can you turn to look at me?” you ask, wrapping the last elastic around his hair. 

He twists in his spot so he can stare cutely up at you.  He looked absolutely adorable, two dutch braids running down his head, the tiny fluffs of remaining hair sitting cutely at his neck.  There’s a soft hum of approval as you tug some of his baby hairs down to frame his face.  “What do you think, baby?  Will it hold for practice?” You ask, stepping back and taking your phone out.  There was no way that you were letting this moment go undocumented. 

You snap a quick photo before Bokuto gets up, shaking his head vigorously, jumping around all to see if the braids will break their hold.  When he’s convinced that they're not going anywhere, he hovers over your shoulder, staring down at your phone screen.  “Aw, come on, babe!  I look terrible in that!  Delete it!”  He whines, making a grab for your phone.

You pull your phone closer to your body in an attempt to shield it from him.  “What are you talking about?  You look very cute, baby,” you say, looking up at him with sweet eyes.  

“Can we at least take a better one before I go?”

You can’t even give an answer before he’s snatching your phone, the front-facing camera pointed towards the two of you.  Your boyfriend slings his arm around your shoulders tugging you closer to his body as you both give goofy smiles for the camera.  He places a soft kiss to your lips, leaning his forehead against yours as he pulls back.  “Thank you, Y/N.  You’re the best, baby girl,” he whispers, pecking your lips one more time.

You’re completely prepared for him to hand you back your phone and get his things to leave, but rather, he holds your phone out of your reach, tapping away at the screen.  “Kou, what are you doing?”

“Sending them to myself.  I have to post my pretty girl to Instagram later,” he claims, beaming down at you as he hands you your phone.  He presses another kiss to your lips before heading to the front door to slip on a pair of sneakers and grab his practice bag.  “I’ll see you later!”

You say your good-byes, checking your phone as it vibrates.  There’s a smile that takes over your face as you see your new lock screen.  Bo’s smiling face is filling the screen, slightly obscured by:

                                      1 New Message: Kou :)

                                      I have the other half ;P

[whumpsideblog]

Part One//Part Two//Part Three//Part Four//Part Five//Part Six//Part Seven//Part Eight

 These links are getting a bit outta hand and I feel like there’s going to be a few more parts to this so after this they’re getting put in a masterlist and just linked on the post asdfgh @im-not-rare-im-rarr @constellationwhump @justwhumpitwhumpitgood @maybeawhumpblog @lumpofwhump @whumpity--whump--whump @inky-whump @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @ihaventwritteninsolong

tw for lots of noncon touching and groping

***

Dahlia hadn’t seen Silas like this in a long time, completely broken down. She hadn’t seen him cry in almost ten years, usually anger replaced any other emotion he felt. She couldn’t just watch him cry though.

 “Silas…? I’m going to hug you, okay?” She said softly, and he slowly nodded, allowing her to pull him into her arms. They’d had that system in place forever now, she barely ever touched him without giving him some sort of warning. She knew it made him feel safe, and right now that’s what he needed, to be safe. She let him cry as much as he needed to, she hugged him tightly and gently played with his hair. She didn’t let go until his sobs softened into cries, and then into the occasional sniffle. 

 “He… He’s going to use that against me… I don’t know how… but he will.” He murmured. “I didn’t want him to know, but I couldn’t let him keep hurting you… I want you to be safe… I want you to escape...”

  “Silas.” He glanced up at her. “From now on, as long as you’re here, I’m here. I’m not going to let you finish this alone.” She said seriously.

 “I… I don’t know how I’m going to “finish” it… I think I’m just… here now? I don’t see a way out…”

 “/You/ don’t need to worry about that.” She smiled. “All you need to do is stay alive, okay?” She told him. He nodded, finally pulling away from her. 

 “I… I’ll do my best… but you also need to be careful. Please, don’t get hurt anymore…” He looked worriedly at her wrist. 

 “I’ll be fine.” She assured him. “No matter what happens, we’ll both be fine.” She smiled at him, hoping to comfort him somewhat. She needed him to be at ease, have hope they’d escape, while she tried to figure out how in the hell they were ever getting out of there. 

 ***

  “You need to relax, love.” 

 “ ‘M sorry…” he murmured. It was nearly impossible to relax, half undressed in a vampire’s bed, knowing Dahlia was locked up in the mansion somewhere, knowing the vampire had all sorts of control over him. Given that it was the middle of the day by now, Alastair wanted to get some sleep, and he wanted to be sure Silas didn’t leave his side. 

 He’d been cleaned up and given clean clothes before bed, and Alastair kept a tight grip on him. Silas didn’t want to face him, kept his back to his chest and just tried to go to sleep, but as always, Alastair could tell something was wrong. He sighed and sat up, looking down at Silas. 

 “You’re safe, little hunter. Your friend is safe. Everything is okay.” He told him. He didn’t feel okay. His body ached from the beating he’d received, his head hurt and eyes burned from crying so hard, in general he felt scared and hopeless and so very tired. He’d rather sleep on the hard floor than in bed with Alastair though.

 “Um… Th-that’s what’s bothering me sir…” he said quietly. “Dahlia, her wrist is broken… she… she needs some sort of treatment…” Alastair seemed to consider this. 

 “I suppose you’re right.” He leaned down, kissing his forehead. “How about, if you be good for me, I’ll help her. Can you do that?” He asked. 

 “Yes sir…” he murmured, closing his eyes.

 “Good boy…” the vampire kissed his cheek, his jaw, down his neck, he couldn’t relax, he couldn’t relax at all. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, holding his breath. Hands roamed his body freely, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move, he had to be good. He’d never been grabbed and groped like this, he certainly never wanted to be. He tried to hug himself, cover himself somehow, but Alastair forced him on to his back and grabbed his wrists, pinning them to the bed. 

 This suddenly felt so much worse, the vampire straddling him. His lips pressed against his own, Silas didn’t even know how to kiss back, he almost felt embarrassed about that. He told himself to be good though, just be good and it would be over soon. Fangs scraped his lower lip, he wondered if it was on purpose. He squirmed uncomfortably, he didn’t like being straddled like this, but the vampire gripped his wrists harder. He kissed him hard, like he’d been wanting to do this for a long time, and when Silas didn’t reciprocate the way he was expected to he seemed to get angry. 

 “I-I’m sorry, I’ve never done this before…” he murmured when the vampire pulled away from him. His face was bright red, he felt so uncomfortable. The vampire just laughed, finally getting off him. 

 “Is that so? I wouldn’t expect that from someone who looks the way you do.” Silas relaxed somewhat, hoping the vampire would drop it. “Just relax love, I’ll take care of you.” He leaned down, kissing at his neck again, and Silas had no choice but to tilt his chin up and let him. 

 “W-why are you doing this…?” He murmured. It didn’t feel good to him, he felt even worse than before, and he didn’t see how Alastair could enjoy this. 

 “You only pull away because you associate touch with pain…” Alastair said softly, still uncomfortably close to his throat. “If you could associate it with, say, pleasure, then you wouldn’t have to be so scared all the time…” he kissed near his collarbone, hand trailing down his chest. Silas had to bite his lip, this was the worst feeling in the world, he almost wished it was pain, he’d take a vicious beating over this any day. 

 “I-I don’t… please, don’t do this…” he whimpered. “I can’t…” he finally jerked away as soon as he felt a hand between his legs, he couldn’t just lie there and take this, he had to stop it. 

 “Didn’t I tell you to be good?” He sat up, glaring down at him.

 “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just, I can’t, I don’t want it to be like this, please, anything else, just not this.” He rambled, already feeling panic rise in his chest. He flinched when a hand wrapped around his throat, Alastair didn’t squeeze, just held him there, threatening to cut off his air at any moment. 

 “You do a lot of negotiating for someone in your situation.” He tightened his grip just slightly. “I have complete control over you, yet you think that you can decide when something is too far?”

 “I-I’m sorry, sir, I’m so sorry..” he whined, fighting to stay put and not struggle against him. The vampire just tightened his grip more, Silas grabbed his wrist but he couldn’t move his hand at all.

 “Not to mention, I’m trying to help you. Do you want to continue living in fear? Do you want to continue to suffer?” His grip tightened, he really couldn’t breathe now.

 “N-no sir, I’m sorry sir!” He choked out.

 “And I did tell you, you had to be good if you wanted to help your friend.” He just squeezed tighter and tighter, Silas feared he may break his neck. He gave up fighting the urge to struggle, he pushed against him, he fought and thrashed and did everything he could to escape but he wasn’t going anywhere until Alastair said so. “You know I wouldn’t have to hurt you if you’d just behave.” He finally let go as his vision began to fade, and when he did he harshly shoved him off the bed. “You can sleep down there tonight. If I find out that you left this room then your little friend will pay for it, understand?”

 “Yes sir…” he murmured, curling up on the hard floor. It was cold, and uncomfortable, but it wasn’t in bed with Alastair, so he considered it an improvement. He stared across the room at the unlocked door. Alastair would fall asleep sooner or later, he’d be completely unsupervised. And yet, he found he didn’t have even the slightest urge to get up and leave. 

[lokirogersgirl]

Running From Me

Characters: Negan x Emery (OC)

Summary: When Negan returns hurt from a run, his pride gets in the way of Emery helping him.

Warnings: Language, a smidge of smut, blood

* Not my gif! Credit to the original owner. *

—————————————————————

Negan barged into our room, his breath heavy. I noticed blood streaming down his shoulder, staining his once white shirt

I immediately jumped up, looking at him in shock. “Negan! What the hell happened to you?” I let my hands roam across his body, looking for any other possible injuries. His signature smirk spread across his face. “Feelin me up, doll?” This wasn’t funny, not even the slightest. “Negan, can you be serious for once? You’re hurt. We need to take you to Ca-“ He cut me off, “Fuck no, I am fine. I don’t need to see a fuckin’ doctor.” I rolled my eyes, as much as I loved him, he was a stubborn ass sometimes.

After Negan and I almost died, we started becoming closer. Eventually, I moved into his room. I understood he only had the wives because of his reputation so we rarely fought over them. As we’ve gotten closer I’ve learned two things. One, Negan never asks for help. Two, he believes people who go to Carson are just pussies. His words, not mine.

“Negan, you need to see a doctor.” I lifted the sleeve of his shoulder slightly, seeing the deep gash leaking blood. Jesus, this man was too reckless for his own good. I sighed, showing him I was clearly worried. He put his thumb on my chin, lifting my eyes from his shoulder. He pressed his lips to mine is a gentle kiss, I kissed him back. Cautious of where I put my hands.

He pulled away quicker than I would have liked and spoke in a deep and assuring voice, “Emery, I am fine. A little fucking cut isn’t gonna kill me. I’ll go when I am damn good and ready.” I heard the sincerity in his voice but I still was concerned for him. “Please, just be careful. I gotta go, but I’ll see you later okay?” He nodded, I planted a chaste kiss on his lips and walked out of our luxurious room.

Walking down the hallway I ran into Simon, Negan’s right hand man. “Oh hey. Simon I was just coming to see you.” He looked confused, did Negan not tell anyone? “Why? What’s goin’ on?” He spoke with a southern drawl in his voice. “What happened to Negan? His arm is all bloody. I'm worried, he wasn’t bit right? Or shot? Or..” He shook his head quickly, causing a bit of relief to enter my body. “Nah, he just cut his arm on a tree. He said it wasn’t a huge deal. So we all brushed it off. Was it bad? Is he alright?” I could sense he was almost as nervous as I was. “He’s okay, his arm was just kinda bloody.” He nodded, “Well that's good. I gotta go sweetpea. You tell Negan to get that shit checked out!” I chuckled and nodded.

After we parted ways I went out and ran errands. Planting, hunting, inventory. Negan tells me I don’t have to help, but I want to. It makes me feel like I have a part in this world. A purpose.

—————————————————————

After about two hours, I returned to Negan and I’s room. When I walked in, Negan was on the bed with his shirt off. He was trying to look at the injury on his shoulder. By the looks of things, he hadn’t heard me walk in. “Negan?” I spoke timidly, he immediately stopped what he was doing. Looking up at me. “Fuck darlin, tryna give me old ass a heart attack?” I smiled and shook my head. “No, of course not.”

My eyes trailed down from his eyes, to his plush lips, to his broad shoulders, then finally down to his gorgeous torso. I licked my lips. He must have noticed because he looked at me and smirked, “See somethin’ ya like, gorgeous?” I blushed and giggled like a damn schoolgirl. I strolled over to him, putting my hand on his thigh. “Ya know what I’d really like?” I purred out, pressing a kiss to his neck. “I’d really like to make sure you live. So let me help you clean your shoulder. Please?” Hearing my words made him sigh. “Doll, what did I tell you.” I scoffed. “Negan, for fucks sake. Just let me help you.”

I rarely swore, especially not at him. But I wanted to make sure he was okay, it didn’t matter if he was mad, it mattered that to me that he was alive.

He glared at me. He looked mad, but all he said was, “The shit you need is in the bathroom cabinet.” His voice was stern, but not angry. I nodded, walking to the bathroom I grabbed things I thought I would need. Gauze, alcohol, cotton balls, and disinfectant wipes. Walking back into the room I saw Negan pouting. I knew he hated being talked down to, but he knew it was for his own good.

Sitting between his legs, I grabbed his arm gently, making his shoulder face me. “This is gonna hurt like hell.” I warned him. Grabbing the alcohol, I poured it over his shoulder. I watched his face contort slightly into a pained expression. His eyes shut, and his chiseled jaw clenched. I wiped the blood off of the injury and tried to clean the area around it. I wrapped it in gauze, doing the best job I could with what we had in our room.

I finished off the ‘bandage’, tying it to insure it didn’t come apart. Looking over it one last time I nodded, “Okay. You’re done.” He didn’t look at me. I didn’t say anything. “I guess uh, I’ll just go somewhere else.” I told him quietly, not sure what to say to him. “No.” His voice came through before I could leave. I turned around. “No?” I repeated in confusion. “Don’t go. Come here.” I walked over to him nervously. He grabbed my waist, pulling me onto his lap in a straddling position I expected him to kiss me, or try and punish me for speaking to him the way I did. Instead he pulled me into a tight embrace, his head leaning against my breasts. I stroked his hair softly, a smile spreading on my face.

I kissed his head and whispered, “I love you Negan, I don’t ever want to see you hurt. For any reason, ever.” He looked at me, admiration and love gleaming in his dark eyes. “I love you too. Im sorry I was a fuckin’ asshole to you, honey. I know you only mean well.” His gravely voice sent shivers down my spine. Pulling away from him, I looked at his face, then my eyes trailed down his body once more.

Leaning down, I captured his lips in a hungry kiss. He groaned in pleasant surprise, his hands immediately coming up to grip my ass in a tight hold. His hands urging me to grind against his growing hardon. I did as he requested, rolling my hips against his groin. A moan falling from my lips. I pulled away from the kiss, another breathy moan coming from my plump lips as I grinded harder. “Fuck, honey..” He attached his lips to my neck, sucking a bruise into my pale skin. His groans sending vibrations down to my core, urging me on. A wildfire in my lower abdomen encouraged me to continue. Rolling my hips harder, I groaned in pleasure.

Lost in my ecstasy, I grabbed onto his shoulder to steady myself. Causing him to wince and pull away. I immediately stopped my movements, “Oh shit! Negan I’m so sorry, are you okay?” He opened his eyes, a grimace on his face. “Maybe we should hold off on this.. Continue another time.” I nodded, “Anything you want, let's just cuddle for a while.” I smiled dreamily. He nodded, I helped him adjust his position so he laid comfortably on our bed.

Snuggling up next to him, I pulled the blankets up to my shoulders. My head resting on his chest, our legs intertwined together like vines on a tree. I sighed, “Don’t run from me anymore, please.” I whispered. Looking up I saw he had already drifted off into a deep sleep. Somehow, I knew he wouldn’t.

[arigathanksgozaimuch]

22 vs. 4

genre: fluff x 1000000. character/s: im changkyun | reader. overview: explaining love to a four-year-old wasn’t all that difficult, especially when your boyfriend is a child at heart. word count: 2974.

“Babe?” she called out while slipping her shoes off as soon as she entered the room. Tiptoeing carefully over empty soda bottles and Xbox controllers, Y/N advanced to the first bedroom and opened the door. As usual during weekends, he was still dozing off and buried under thick, white comforters.

Quietly, she climbed up the mattress and slid under the covers to wake her sleepyhead of a boyfriend. “Changkyun,” Y/N said, sliding her arms around his waist before her hand reaches for his butt and pats it repeatedly. “Wake up.”

He stirred slightly, winding his arms around her and hoisting her up to lie on top of him. The boy in nothing but his checkered green boxers groaned against her ear. “Were we supposed to go somewhere today?” Changkyun mumbled groggily. With his eyes still closed, he blindly reached for his phone on the bedside drawer to check the time. “You’re here early.”

“Yeah, well—” she started, rolling off of him with a grunt and pausing only to yawn, “—my parents are arriving in a few hours to drop Miyeon off before heading to the airport.”

“Miyeon…?”

“My sister, yeah,” Y/N replied nonchalantly, hopping off the mattress before she could fall back asleep beside him. Grabbing his blankets in handfuls, she peeled it off of him to keep him from dozing off once more. “So if you could go get dressed so you could help me out, that would be great.”

The boy whined, shifting to lie on his stomach and bury his face on the pillow. “I was supposed to sleep in today!”

“Come on, I have two tests to study for. I need help looking after the kid.”

When he didn’t budge, Y/N frowned, letting his blanket pool around her feet. “Aren’t you going to come help me? I thought you loved me.”

At her statement, Changkyun flailed his arms and legs on the bed, as if throwing a tantrum, before pushing himself up to sit over his knees. If he ever had a weakness, it would be the pouting woman with her hands on her hips standing at the foot of his bed. “Alright, alright, but you have to get me breakfast,” he said, scratching the back of his head before dragging himself to the bathroom to wash up while grumbling, “The things she makes me do, really…”

Despite his complaints, however, he found himself at her own dorm room more than an hour later, blinking back at the child who had been staring at him the entire time Y/N was talking to her parents. Wet-haired and bloated with breakfast, Changkyun tried chatting her up by asking about the cartoon character on her backpack, but Miyeon refused all advances.

“She takes quite a while warming up to strangers,” her mother explained, noticing the sullen expression on Changkyun’s face. “Eventually she’ll open up to you.”

Rubbing his nape, the boy only nodded, standing up and bowing politely as Y/N’s parents bid them goodbye. As soon as the wooden door meets the frame when it closed, Changkyun immediately went to work, approaching the couch carefully while hiding something behind his back.

“So… do you like milk?”

He placed the pink carton on the table and pushed it across with his fingertips. All his advances so far had been rejected in cold blood. He swore he had never met a girl so difficult.

“Miyeon, he gave you a drink. What will we say…?” Y/N said, trying to coax her sister into saying something other than just huffing.

“Thank you,” the girl mumbled, almost inaudibly, before quickly snatching the milk. Changkyun attempted to help her put the straw in, but Miyeon had already turned her back on him to do it herself.

Defeated, the man sank further into the couch. Y/N reached out to squeeze his hand affectionately, but her sister wasn’t having any of it. Miyeon started to whine loudly at every physical contact her sister made with her boyfriend.

Opening her arms, Y/N called out for the little girl and made her sit on her lap comfortably. “Why don’t you like him? He came with me sometimes whenever I went home to visit, right? And he always gave you presents,” she said, as if trying to make Miyeon remember. The girl only responded by shaking her head, her attention still intently focused on the TV. Y/N sighed. “He’s going to look after you for a while because I have to study.”

“Can’t I sit with you while you work?” the four-year-old huffed, finally using her words, causing Changkyun to look up from where he was slouching.

“You’ll get bored. I can’t talk to you the whole time because I have to finish my papers, and you can’t watch cartoons on my computer because I’ll be using it,” she explained, her thumbs gently caressing the younger’s cheeks. “But he can bring you outside if you want. You can go to the store with him to buy more snacks, too.”

“But—”

“But what?” Y/N prodded.

Miyeon alternated glances between her sister and sulking man beside her. Realizing she had no other choice, “Okay, fine…” she huffed, her shoulders slumped.

Changkyun jumped at the sudden opportunity and wasted no time. He hopped off the couch and knelt on one knee, flourishing a hand towards the child. “Would you, the lovable and beautiful Princess Miyeon from the land of Dorm 242, bestow on me, a lowly peasant from the land of Dorm 098, the honor of carrying you to the 7-Eleven outside the campus?” Before he could finish talking, however, Miyeon was already on her way to the front door. “…or you know we could just walk. That’s what I was thinking,” he said, getting up to follow after the girl.

He wanted to help her put her shoes on, but she was already wearing them. “You tie your shoelaces nicely. That’s cool,” Changkyun said as he led her out of the dormitory. “Your sister always gets them loose, I don’t know how. So I have to tie them for her.”

The girl seemed to know her way out of the building as she led the way, leaving Changkyun to follow a few steps behind her. Since it was a weekend, most of the students were either catching up on sleep or enjoying their free time, so he didn’t expect to meet Minhyuk and Jooheon as soon as they rounded the corner.

“Where are you guys headed?” Changkyun asked, placing a gentle hand over Miyeon’s shoulder to keep her close and within his reach.

His two friends didn’t seem to be interested in him, however, because all their attention was focused on the little girl. “We were on our way to you, actually,” Jooheon explained. “We were planning to wake you up and have you join us for brunch.”

“Nah, I can’t, obviously,” the younger said, suddenly feeling betrayed when Miyeon runs into Minhyuk’s arms. “I’m on future brother-in-law duty.”

“She’s Y/N’s sister?” Minhyuk exclaimed, lifting the child up and laughing when the latter squeals in excitement. “No wonder you look so similar!”

“Yeah, we were on our way to the store to buy snacks,” Changkyun said, frowning. “And I’m trying to make her like me.”

Minhyuk’s eyes widened. To test the theory, he pretended to hand Miyeon over to Changkyun. “He’ll give you a piggyback ride to the store so you won’t get tired,” he proposed, but the child whined, squirming in his arms.

The outright rejection broke Changkyun’s heart further, but it only amused Jooheon more. “Ya, she’s a girl. All you have to do is tell her she’s pretty and she’ll stop being upset.”

Rolling his eyes, Changkyun stepped a good distance away from the two boys and the girl to give Y/N a call. “Yeah, this isn’t working out,” he greeted as soon as his girlfriend picked up.

The woman snorted, unamused. She only had her phone pressed in between her ear and shoulder, as if holding the phone properly would cost her a year of backlog. “That’s the spirit!” Y/N exclaimed in the most sarcastic tone she could muster. “Come on, you’re probably not even out of the campus yet.”

Changkyun looked from left to right. “How did you know? Are you following us?”

“Tch, it’s the blood connection, you airhead. I can feel her still near.”

Now, it was his turn to snort. “What, are you a psychic now?”

“Did you bring her to the fountain? The wishing well?” she asked, completely ignoring his mockery. She spun on her swivel chair and leaned back. “I swear to God if anything bad happens to my sister I’ll chop your toes and feed them to you.”

“She’s not even looking at me!” he whined, looking over his shoulder to where Jooheon had Miyeon sitting over his shoulders while they try to chase after Minhyuk, who was having the time of his life running in slow motion. “She’s with Jooheon and Minhyuk right now.”

“Oh, well, that’s cute. At least she’s not with Hyunwoo.”

“But how come she likes them? She’s literally just met them!” he groaned, stomping his foot in irritation.

“Hey, take your time,” Y/N cooed, using the calm tone she uses with her sister when the latter is about to throw a tantrum. “You’ll probably be the best of friends when you return.”

Huffing, Changkyun pouted. “Fine, we’ll be back in a couple more minutes.” And he ended the call as he walked back to where his friends were.

As Jooheon sets the girl down, he gave her a small wave. “We have to go and eat, but we might drop by Y/N’s dorm later so we can play, okay?”

The girl seemed reluctant to wave back, even as the two boys started to walk away. Turning to Changkyun, who held his hand out for her to hold, Miyeon wore a frown as she walked by his side, ignoring his hand completely. He sighed, letting his hand fall eventually.

When they pass by the gates of the campus, Changkyun had to present his student I.D. before being allowed to leave. “Look at this,” he said, wearing the lace over the girl’s head. “I look grumpy in my picture because my mom wanted to style my hair for me. She spat on her hand and used it as styling wax.” He swore he saw the slightest hint of a smile on Miyeon’s face as she looked at his photo, but he pretended not to notice.

Being the gentleman he is, he opened the heavy door of the convenience store for her. She skipped merrily to the aisles, browsing through shelves of various snacks and drinks. Whenever Miyeon wanted something far from her reach, Changkyun came to the rescue, lifting her up to let her choose by herself.

“What about chocolates or ice cream? Don’t you want any?” he asked, looking at the bags of chips and cookies in her arms.

She glanced at the freezers longingly, but in the end shook her head. “Mom says I should eat a full meal first, but I haven’t had lunch yet.”

“It’s okay, we can eat ice cream here, so Y/N wouldn’t see, and then quickly go home to eat lunch,” he offered, already picking up two chocolate popsicles from the freezer. When the girl still looked hesitant, “I promise I won’t tell your mom. I won’t even tell your sister!” Changkyun whispered, raising his right hand up to swear.

Convinced, Miyeon nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Changkyun repeated, smiling. He took the snacks from her arms and brought them with him to the cashier. As soon as the cashier rings them up, he fished for the popsicles from the plastic bag and handed one to her, before gesturing towards the seats near the windows. “Let’s eat this here so Y/N won’t know.”

The two quietly ate the popsicles for a while, with Changkyun occasionally dabbing napkin over the child’s mouth where the cold treat gets smeared. He watched her in silence, smiling only when she catches him looking. “You know Y/N used to ignore me a lot, too,” he started, looking for a spot in his popsicle where the ice cream was melting before licking it up. “I had to work hard to get her attention, so now I’m doing the same for you.”

“You bought her ice cream too?” Miyeon asked, her voice now louder and clearer.

Changkyun nodded. “Of course, together with cookies and other snacks too.”

“You like her that much?”

"Yeah, well… no.” He scrunched his nose, suddenly deep in thought. “I love her a lot. You do, too, right?”

“So you… want her to be your sister too?”

His eyes widened in panic. “No! Not that kind of love. There are lots and lots of kinds.”

“Like what kinds?” she pried, almond eyes blinking up at him.

“Well, you love her as a sister, right? And your parents love you both as their daughters. Her friends love her as their friend. But our love — how do I say it — is like how your dad loves your mom, and your mom loves your dad. That kind of love, probably only a little less since we’re younger than your parents.”

Miyeon clasped a hand over her mouth as her face contorted in disgust. “You mean like the kissy kind?!”

When Changkyun nodded, she only let out a louder and longer “Ew!” to further express her disgust.

“Hey— when you get older and meet someone you really really like, you’ll be all kissy too!”

The girl furiously shook her head, giggling all the while. “Will not!”

He laughed at her response, gesturing towards her ignored ice cream that was already starting to melt. Her little feet couldn’t quite reach the floor yet, so they dangled to and fro while she ate. Their mindless banter about childish things continued until it was time to go. The moment she finished eating, Miyeon hopped off the stool and carried her own snacks on the way back to the campus. She was the one who presented Changkyun’s I.D. to the guards standing by the university gates. And, unlike on the way to the convenience store where she led the way and he followed, the two of them walked side by side, the awkward distance already having dissipated.

“So… you’re not mad at me anymore?” he slowly eased asking, tone light yet careful.

She nonchalantly shook her head.

“Really? So you’re going to let me kiss your sister now?”

“No!” Miyeon screeched, stopping in the middle of her tracks. “I’ll tell mom you said that.”

Changkyun crossed his arms. “Well— I’ll tell your mom you ate ice cream before lunch!”

“Hey, you said that was a secret!”

“But I’m telling if you’re telling!”

The little girl huffed. “Fine, I won’t tell.”

“Do we have a deal?” Changkyun asked, extending his hand out.

Two small hands grasped his before shaking. “Deal.”

“Okay,” he said, smiling, and nodded towards the hallway. “Let’s get back to the dorm.”

“Are your friends coming over to play, too?” she asked, climbing the stairs one step at a time diligently.

“Maybe,” Changkyun replied. He reached the top of the stairs faster, so he stayed behind and waited for her to catch up. “Are you sure you want to play with them? I’m more fun, you know.”

“Do you study with my sister a lot?” Miyeon prodded, ever curious. Unconsciously, she reached for his dangling hand and held onto it as they walked side by side. When Changkyun only hummed in response, she looked up at him and continued, “Like drawing pictures and coloring?”

The innocent inquiry had him smiling as he knocked on the door using the hand that was carrying all their snacks. “Yeah, only a little more complicated.”

Y/N opened the door with a huge grin on her face at the sight of her sister. She spread her arms out wide to welcome Miyeon before lifting her up and carrying her to her bedroom. The age gap might have been baffling — so much so that Y/N could seem like the child’s mother — but it only made them look all the more adorable in Changkyun’s eyes as he trailed behind them after closing the door.

He set the bag down on the couch and headed to the bedroom, where he could already overhear their conversation.

“He did?” Y/N exclaimed, using her fingers to comb through her sister’s messy fringes.

“Mmh! He looked funny in his I.D. picture too. I think the people from security were laughing at his face,” Miyeon said, giggling.

The two of them pretended to clasp a hand over their mouths when Changkyun entered the room. “Alright, what is it now?” he asked, feigning innocence as he sat behind Y/N on the mattress.

“Nothing!” the siblings said in unison, causing them to erupt in giggles once again.

“She didn’t give you a hard time, did she?” Y/N asked softly, leaning back against the boy’s chest.

“Nah, I’m used to girls giving me a hard time,” he replied playfully, which earned him a gentle nudge on the shoulder.

“Miyeon, can you show me what snacks you bought?” the woman asked again, now turning to her sister. But before the child could hop off the mattress, Y/N gave her left cheek a light tap with her forefinger. “Come give me a kiss first.”

Obediently, Miyeon scooted closer to her sister and pecked the older’s cheek once before pushing herself off the bed. Changkyun did the same and presented his own face. “Me too!” he blurted out, hopeful, but the girl had already run out of the room and was in the process of getting the bag of snacks, leaving Changkyun hanging.

As Y/N clutched her stomach in the middle of peals of laughter, Changkyun huffed. “Okay, we’ll work on that.”

[roseylaces]

26 “Honey, you’re sick. Go lay down, I’ll make you some soup.” or 38 “You complete my life. I love you so much.” for Kaitomi!!!! you can do one or the other~ or both~

AWW THANK YOU FOR THESE!! they’re so cute!! im going to put them under a cut because i wrote quite a bit hehe!~

send me a number and a character or two and I’ll write a short/long imagine.

prompt list can be found here

26. “Honey, you’re sick. Go lay down, I’ll make you some soup.”

The light streaming in through theshimmering curtains roused Kiyomi from a light sleep. She scrunched her eyesclosed before they flittered open, taking in the brilliance of a new day.Particles of dust floated airily through the beams of light, dancing playfullyin the light breeze from the window. She watched as they floated up and down,swirling around each other, as if in a trance.

The scene was so peaceful. So, so peaceful.

Every day since everything had ended,things had become tranquil and still. Sometimes, Kiyomi awoke expecting thatsame dark, isolating room. Yet every time, she discovered that those times wereover. That past self had gone. She was reborn.

Turning over in bed, the cool, cottonsheets shifted. She pulled them closer to her, savoring the lingering warmth ofthe morning despite donning a nightgown, before brushing stray hairs from herface.

He was asleep.

Her eyes softened as she took in his restingform. It wasn’t until his eyes were closed that she realized how long hislashes were. Bed head suited him, complimenting the already messy locks of hairas they swept over his forehead.

Soft, even breaths.

That was when she noticed theuncharacteristic redness of his cheeks. How his forehead glistened lightly witha film of sweat. Kiyomi frowned. He was usually such a cold sleeper.

She delicately sat up, securing the sheetaround her chest, and reached a slender hand out towards him. It brushed thebrown of his hair, before coming to rest on his brow.

He was burning up.

At her touch, Kaito stirred. He reached ahand up groggily towards hers, removing it from his head and holding it gently,yet firmly enough to transfer his radiant heat.

“What’re you up to so early in the morning,Kiyomi?” Kaito murmured, rubbing his eye with his free hand.

“Your body temperature is higher thanusual, are you feeling okay?” Kiyomi enquired softly, rubbing the back of hishand tenderly. At the mention of this, Kaito used his free hand to ruffle hishair from his eyes, and looked at Kiyomi properly.

“Is that your way of telling me that I’mespecially good looking this morning?” Kaito jested, a small smirk lining hislips. Kiyomi scoffed lightheartedly at the notion, then smiled in return.

“No, I’m being serious. You’re really warm.Maybe you’re coming down with something?”

“I feel fine.” The grip on her handtightened, and he pulled her closer to him, “Maybe it’s because you’re here.”He added, staring deep into her eyes. His expression was so serious, soheartfelt and real that for a second the blood rose in a flourish to Kiyomi’scheeks, mirroring Kaito’s rosy complexion; but it soon died down, and she ran ahand through his hair playfully.

“I can tell the difference between anillness and the incurable disease of love, Kaito-kun.” Kiyomi quipped, lightlytapping him on the nose before removing the sheet from around her, and steppinginto a pair of slippers.

Kaito began to sit up to follow her, butshe quickly leaned back on the bed, her nightgown flowing with the movement.She rested a hand against his chest, pushing him back down.

“You just stay right there. I’ll be back.” sheteased sweetly, “Patients should be good and do what they’re told by theirnurse.” Kiyomi gave him an angelic smile, before jumping off the bed and movingto the kitchen.

Kaito lay back down, stunned. Since whenhad Kiyomi become so witty?

He remembered back to when he had first mether. It seemed like a lifetime ago. They were both practically children; fifteen,their first year of high school. At the slightest of glances, touches, orgestures he gave her, she would blush profusely. A timid girl, yet so veryadorable.

It had made him want to protect her.

However, somehow, during the time thateverything seemingly ended and began all at once, she had grown. She hadmatured not only physically, but mentally. She was beautiful and radiant andbright.

She was an angel, and she was now the onethat was protecting him.

Something profound and warm fluttered inKaito’s stomach at the thought, and it made him come to terms with how deeplyshe had become ingrained in his life. They were open with each other, sharedeverything with each other. And now they were here.

Perhaps Kiyomi could not tell thedifference between the curable and the incurable after all.

38. “Youcomplete my life. I love you so much.”

The sky was tainted a crimson, thebrushstrokes of clouds lining the open air. In every direction, once beautifuland brilliant, yet now crumbled and ruined skyscrapers lined the path of theisolated road. Cars were smashed, debris floated through the sky, and no pulseselectricity or life could be seen or felt.

Yet Kiyomi stood in the middle of it all.She stood against the lifeless scene in front of her alive, her charcoal hairfluttering in the wind as her white hospital gown flowed against the definedfeatures of her body. She faced away from him, one hand behind her back, theother pressed to her chest, taking in the scene in front of her.

The fact that this happened was not herfault. The fact that the once boisterous ward of Shibuya was a wasteland and theonly things above her were the sky and the faintest outlines of the stars were nother fault. She did not have the power to control such an outcome.

Yet she could not help but feel thatsomehow this was all her doing.

She took a step forward, and another,unable to drag her eyes from the beauty of the vast crimson canvas back to theultimate destruction in front of her. It reminded her too much of what had tobe done to get to this point, and she no longer had any tears for crying.

The sole of her sandal hit something, andshe stopped. Finally peering back down towards the solidity of the ground, shecrouched to better see what she had stepped on. Her hair fell over hershoulders in waves, and she delicately placed the loose strands behind an ear.Her hand touched something solid, yet intricately designed, and she picked itup. It was covered in dust, but she could already tell that it was something ofsubstantial value. Brushing the debris aside, a beautiful, crystal ruby ringshone in her hands.

The band was splattered with blood.

Standing back up and holding the ring closeto her chest, she said a silent prayer to the one who owned this ring and hadlost their life in this ordeal. Although she swore she had no more tears tocry, somewhere, from deep inside, a glistening streak lined her cheek.

Why was she the only one still here?

“Kiyomi…” A voice called out to her softly,and she was snapped from her lament. That’s right, she was not alone.

Slowly turning around, her gaze driftedslightly upwards, locking onto a pair of grey, metallic irises like a target.

She clutched the ruby tighter in her hands, and placed it delicately on her slender finger.

Kaito only stared at her, not knowing whatelse to say. He only knew that her mind was sinking down into somewhere dangerous,and he had to get her out before anything untoward happened. That being said,he did not even have the ability to say anything else, even if he wanted to.

Kiyomi’s beautiful, russet eyes glowed witha brilliant red in the fading light, strands of midnight hair framing hergentle and frail features. Her skin seemingly glowed against the bloodied sun’slight as it shimmered through her hospital gown.

She was ethereal, and he did not know howto tell her so.

“Kaito-kun…” she finally replied, taking ina breath she did not know she had been holding, “Is it finally over?”

He nodded in confirmation, then took a stepforward, then another, until he was standing right in front of her.

Bringing her into his arms, he held her inan embrace that both healed him and hurt him. He nuzzled hishead into the crook of her neck, and whispered,

“We’ve done it, Kiyomi. You’ve been sostrong, but it’s over…” he paused, trying to phrase his next thoughts intosomething coherent that possessed everything he felt, “Kiyomi. You remainedstrong when the world tried to break you. You persevered with life when itwould have been so much easier to just be dead. You have overcome everything Iwish I could have done. You are my strength, you complete my life. I love youso much.”

Such heartfelt and passionate words hadnever left Kaito’s mouth before, and it made Kiyomi’s eyes widen in surprise, her lip tremble with emotion, and her breath to hitch in her throat.

She finally reached her hands up and gripped onto the back of his t-shirt,feeling the first signs of the warmth she had longed to feel for so long. She had somuch she had to say to him in reply, so much to tell him, but now was not the time, and she did not yethave the words to fully express herself.

She needed one last ounce of strength.

Instead, she whispered softly, in a way that resonated within his heart,

“I love you, too, Kaito-kun.”