#the one concerto i had i just decided how it sounded and that's how it was and were my notes all a consistent length? pfff no
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what's a really unfortunate discovery in my life in the last two years is that my boss told me i was racing against my beeper counting seconds last year and confiscated it (secret skill unlocked: can count to fifteen seconds in your head with extreme accuracy) and i'm like he cannot be for real with this, how do you Race Time. and then i play guitar against a metronome and You'll Never Fucking Guess What My Fatal Flaw Is
#'roo are you subconciously racing the metronome' YES I AM AND I'M BAFFLED#HOW did this man watch a horse gallop through a pair of binoculars and know that i am locked in mortal combat with the passage of time#truly insane#anyway we're uh. gonna get better at yknow. letting beats pass.#i think as with horse riding i play music more accurately without the metronome#or possibly i just do whatever i like#i distinctly remember my violin teacher never being able to change the way the uhhhhhh what do you call ems#the one concerto i had i just decided how it sounded and that's how it was and were my notes all a consistent length? pfff no#it sounds good though#oh that's the other thing i never got to do like level testing or whatever for any instrument ever?#but i randomly found out last year that i was at least like intermediate like halfway through the levels or whatever for violin?#false advertising i keep telling people i learnt nothing in eight years#but also can i technically pull off a 3 page concerto? yes. do my hands shake so much my bow sometimes jumps on the strings? yes.#anyway this seemed like a funny story for the masses#get to know you time with roo
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Hello! I had found your blog not too long ago and absolutely fell in LOVE with your writing! As soon as I saw requests were open, I hoped right on in! Could I possibly request the first year group with an S/O who is like the violinist, Lindsey Stirling? Like, beautiful and complex musical creations on the violin and the beautiful outfits designed to represent the songs? Thank you so much!!❤😊❤😊
omg ur compliments are making me blush 🥺. i'm so so sorry that i answered this so late 😭 i've been finisbing up the msot recent req
as, usual. i hope you enjoy!!
Pristine and dulcet tones were the norm for the freshmen. Everyday breathtaking performances, accompanied by fits of your own design. You carried the violin with the aesthetic that you've decided upon.
You turned colors, fabric, and music into artistic violin concertos. From the whites of a barren winter field, to the oranges and golds of wheat on sunset, to the vivid graffiti of modern-day Picassos.
Ace would deny it if asked, but he absolutely adored your tiny concertos. And he had a new idea pop up in his head once in a while. His only problem was how he could get those ideas to you in the least suspicious manner.
His solution? Anonymous notes that littered every single nook and cranny that you could possibly find.
Casinos... Circuses... Broadway... It frustrates him to no end that ideas like these keep popping up without an outlet to share them with. Soon, the notes weren't enough. He thought of more complex things.
A gothic church performance, or maybe something more regal— with golds and reds and purples all around. Or maybe— or maybe...
Or maybe he should just tell you all of it himself.
"So I've got a few ideas... Hey, stop looking at me like that! I'm a genius, y'know? Anyways, wanna hear them out?"
Deuce was a regular listener to your music. And he enjoyed all of them. But one performance stood out to him more than the rest.
A daring showcase of punk culture— leather jackets, graffiti, motorcycle gangs and all that jazz. It hit home, but that's what made it all the more better.
It took him back to his skull-bashing days, which wasn't too long ago, when he had his hair bleached and smoked with all of his 'friends'. He never realized you could turn that stuff into music.
It felt so uplifting, so liberating, so rebellious. And your outfit really managed to fit the theme you were looking for— leather jackets, belts, chains, and some glow-in-the-dark ink 'tattoos' across your forearms and legs.
You know what, why not drive you around the city with that getup. Just let him grab his jacket for a quick minute.
"Hey, that was pretty good, reminds me a lot of the old days. Speaking of which... How does a drive around the city sound?"
Jack never considered himself as an avid music fan, but even he could tell that you were an expert at your craft.
It was empowering, both your performances and your enthusiasm. Just making him hear the soft-yet-impactful sounds from your instrument was enough to have his blood pumping. He wanted to run, and run, and run.
He wanted to feel the wind against his fur, to cover as much land as he could, to consume every sight and every scenery.
Music so inspiring, a fuel for romance. If he could, he would write you sonnets that complimented your works, or adorn your outfits with flowers that would match.
Thoughts of waltzing with you flashed in his mind. For a brief moment, he thought of twirling you around in an open field, with nothing else but the both of you and the wildflowers.
He felt like an idiot. He sounded like a child. But what he said still holds true.
"Hey...Um, do you want to uh... Go out for a run sometime...? Not that I'm forcing you! Just... Just say yes, c'mon."
Your style and genre were new to Epel. But among your many songs, he found the warm comfort of home in a few— specifically your country-themed works.
In a world of gold-laced luxuries and glamorous fabrics, he found the solace of Harveston in your music. It was like he was magically teleported back to his porch, sitting on a rocking chair, and lazing until the sunset gave way to the cold of dusk.
As much as he'd love to feel like he was home again, Vil would certainly nag his ear off if he finds him slacking about.
He applauded the range of themes you can cover. Name it, you've probably done them before. A few of your ideas were taken from Pomefiore's overall aesthetic and elegance.
He took it as a crude training session. He'd rather be with you than Vil's iron-fisted way of 'training him to perfection'.
"Try as I might, it's impossible to learn through Vil's way. Would you mind if I ask for your help instead?"
Out of all of them, Sebek was the one that vocalized his support the most. Often times he'd be found chanting and cheering at your small performance, he attracted a crowd every time.
Outspoken he was, undeniably. It was entertaining honestly. While most would shake his head at his thunderous enthusiasm, you would just giggle at his antics.
It just so happens that you share a hobby with his Lord and Idol, Malleus Draconia. Lord Malleus' solos always have that damp and somber atmosphere around it.
But you were that and more. Your violin took him to places he could only dream of in postcards and stories. The oriental harmonies that depict the east, you made him imagine. The bustling and sandy expanse of the deserts, he was able to feel.
Keep it a secret, but if he were to choose. As much as it pains him, as much as it agonizingly pulls on his heartstrings... He has to admit that he enjoyed yours more.
He knew every artist comes across a wall. And yours just happened to arrive sooner than he expected. But fear not! Sebek was known for his inspiring and uplifting words of encouragement! Or at least he thought so.
"Your music is something I look forward to everyday. That is why it's a shame to see you like this. If you're up for it, I know a few places that could help clear your mind."
#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#gn!mc#gender neutral reader#twst x reader#twst fanfic#twst fanfiction#twst oneshot#twst imagines#twst scenarios#jack howl#sebek zigvolt#ace trappola#deuce spade#epel felmier#jack howl x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#ace trappola x reader#deuce spade x reader#epel felmier x reader#answered ask#writing#my writing
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Tokiya Ichinose (Repeat)
Translator: Koto (twitter: kotowari16)
Proofreader: Mimi (twitter: _mimisaurora)
QA: Raz (twitter: agnadance)
December - Concerto of just one night
Tokiya: “It would be better if we increased the tempo of this part.”
Haruka: “But won’t the words be drowned out if it’s too fast?”
Tokiya: “That would be an issue of my articulation then. I can handle a speed increase to a certain extent.”
December had begun and the time we had to spare for practice had increased more than it had so far.
Ichinose-san joined as many practice sessions as he could in between his activities in the entertainment industry as HAYATO-sama.
Though our song had gotten more complete, it wasn’t perfect yet.
We have to finish it somehow during this month….
Tokiya: “Then, this part… Ah…”
Ichinose-san’s hand accidentally brushed my fingers.
Haruka: “Ah…”
At the same time, we pulled our hands away and averted our eyes. And while trying to pick up a scoresheet that was falling gently to the ground, our hands touched again….
The more I was thinking that I shouldn’t pay too much mind to it, the more anxious I got instead.
I didn’t really know how to respond to that….
Haruka: “E-Erm… let’s…. let’s sing.”
Tokiya: “Yeah, let’s do that….”
I started playing on the keyboard to hide the loud sound of my chest.
“Love is absolutely forbidden”. The words of the principal weighed heavily on my mind.
I must not fall in love with this person if I want to debut with him.
Absolutely not. I can’t do anything but lock away my feelings of liking him. I absolutely cannot have him find out.
But I felt the more I suppressed my feelings, the stronger they became.
Haruka: “Good morning.”
Tokiya: “Morning.”
Syo: “Yo, morning.”
Ren: “Hello, Lady. You’re looking cute today as well. I’m sure you’d also look beautiful in a dress.”
Haruka: “In a… dress?”
Ren: “Yah, the Christmas Dance Party. You know about it, right?”
Haruka: “Dance Party…?”
There was something like that? Uhh...?
Tokiya: “Our teacher mentioned it during last week’s home room class. He said we should decide on a partner because a dance party will be held for Christmas.”
Haruka: “… Now that you say it, I feel like I heard something like that….”
My head was so full with stuff from the final exams last week that I might have fazed out during home room class…
I have to listen properly to what the teacher’s saying.
Ren: “Lady, have you already decided on your partner?”
Haruka: “Erm…. Are they different from your usual partner?”
Ren: “Ah! Excuse me? The composers that both Syo and I teamed up with are guys.”
Syo: “It’s kinda sad, dancing with a guy…”
Haruka: “…I see…”
Speaking of which, those who joined the composer course were mostly male.
Ren: “I’d like to dance with the Lady.”
All of a sudden Jinguuji-san put his hand on my lower waist.
Haruka: “Eh… uh…”
Ren: “Tonight, in my room, won’t you dance the waltz of love with me?”
Tokiya: “Ren. Didn’t I tell you that she was MY partner?”
Ichinose-san grabbed me by my shoulder and pulled me away from Jinguuji-san.
Tokiya: “Even though you should have options to spare when it comes a possible partner, why are you clinging to Haruka- to her.”
Ren: “Haruka? Hm? Since when did you start calling her by her first name…?”
Tokiya: “… That has nothing to do with you.”
Ren: “That’s right. It’s none of my business how you call the Lady. I’m just whispering about love as my heart tells me to.”
Haruka: “Erm….”
Just how should I respond to this?
*door slides open*
Otoya: “Ah, here you are. Tokiya. I’m sorry, I forgot to return the text book I borrowed yesterday. Hm? Did I interrupt something?”
Syo: “We’re somehow all arguing over who’ll dance with her at the dance party.”
Otoya: “Oh~? Seems interesting. Then I also want in!”
Tokiya: “Otoya… Even you…”
Otoya: “Eh, but you see, I also want to dance with her. I want to be able to join in!”
Syo: “In that case, count me in as well!”
Tokiya: “Geez… why are all of you just making this topic more complicated…”
Ren: “It’s not complicated at all. It’s quite a simple, in fact. And? Who does the Lady want to dance with?”
Haruka: “Eh, erm…
Select the phrase!
Haruka: “With Ichinose-san….” (+15 Love, +5 Music) (一ノ瀬さんと・・・・・。）
Syo: “Tch, she prefers Tokiya after all, doesn’t she?”
Otoya: “Yeah, but Tokiya’s her partner after all. You could say it’s only natural. A~h, bummer.”
… In truth, he might have been the one person I shouldn’t have chosen.
Though I love him… There’s no way I can tell him that…
But… Just for now… It should be alright to be honest to my own heart.
Just for the short time until Christmas... until the Dance Party ends…
Tokiya: “Haruka. Will you do me the honour of dancing with me?”
He held out his hand in front of me.
Haruka: “Yes.”
I nodded lightly and took his hand.
This is surely the beginning of my last memory of love.
A fleeting memory that must be the last.
After school, Ichinose-san and I began our dance lessons in between creating our song.
Tokiya: “I heard from Hyuuga-san which songs will be played on the day of the dance party. Let’s play those and dance.”
Haruka: “Alright.”
In doing so, the music that started playing from the CD player was…
Haruka: “…?”
Isn’t this a song from HAYATO-sama?
Tokiya: “!!!
I messed up, it’s this one…”
Flustered, Ichinose-san replaced the CD.
Even Ichinose-san messes up sometimes, doesn’t he…?
Tokiya: “Even though I could say a few words about dancing as there are different styles… The dance this time will be a ballroom dance. Any experience?”
Select the phrase!
Haruka: “First time.” (+10 Love, +5 Love) (初めてです。）
Tokiya: “Is that so…? Well then, seems like I have no choice but to teach you from the beginning.”
Haruka: “I don’t have any experience, but… I’ll do my very best, so please take care of me.”
I quickly lowered my head.
Haruka: “Since it's my first time, I don’t know the first thing about how to move my hands and feet…”
I got to be careful to not mess up the steps and accidentally step on his feet…
Tokiya: “We won’t be doing anything too extreme to start with, so please let go of the tension in your shoulders and relax.”
Ichinose-san patted me on the shoulder while he spoke.
Haruka: “O-Okay!”
I replied while firmly straightening my spine.
Tokiya: “Didn’t I just tell you to relax? If you’re that nervous, you won’t be able to dance skillfully. It’s alright, please leave everything to me.”
Ichinose-san smiled gently and softly patted my hair.
Haruka: “… Okay.”
Tokiya: “Place your hand like this…. And then you hold the other hand as if firmly entwining it with mine. Yeah… just like this.”
Ichinose-san informed me in the greatest detail about the position of the hands, or how to step forward and how to look.
The entire time he was instructing me while dancing, the distance between us was closer than usual….
And I felt like he was treating me gentler than usual.
Tokiya: “… It’s still awkward, isn’t it?”
Haruka: “I’m sorry.”
Tokiya: “It’ll be hard to show this dance if you dance this awkwardly. Please dance as if you’re about to fall in love with me.”
Haruka: “Like I would… with Ichinose-san…?”
Tokiya: “Say, could you stop calling me 'Ichinose-san'?”
Haruka: “Eh…. Ah… T-then what should I…”
Tokiya: “I’m calling you by your first name. So… maybe you could call me 'Tokiya'…”
Haruka: “……………….”
C-call him by his first name? Me?
…W-Would it be okay to do such an outrageous thing?
Tokiya: “…Can’t you? You did already… During the school festival you did call me like that, didn’t you?”
Haruka: “T-that time…”
Select the phrase!
Haruka: “That was spontaneous.” (+20 Love) (無意識に呼んでいて。）
Tokiya: “In other words, in the depths of your heart, you were thinking you wanted to call me that?”
Haruka: “Eh… Ah…. I… guess?”
Tokiya: “That’s what spontaneous means, doesn’t it? You’re a real stickler for some social rules and regulations. Won’t you try being honest to your own heart a bit more?”
Honest… to my own heart… I wonder if that would be okay…? Even though… I thought I should restrain… myself.
Haruka: “…”
Tokiya: “Please don’t make a face like that. You're making me feel like I’m bullying you…”
Haruka: “T-that’s…”
Tokiya: “Nah… Forcing you when you dislike it, is exactly what bullying is, isn’t it? I’m sorry. Please forget I asked.”
Haruka: “Ehm… I’ll do my best... to, um, call you by your name…”
Tokiya: “… Yeah. Well then, I trust you will.”
Ichinose-san smiled happily when he spoke.
Haruka: “Yeah.”
Uh… He smiled like there was no use arguing about it. Seemed like I couldn’t go against it.
We then resumed our dance practice.
Tokiya: “Then put your right foot for-… Oops….”
Completely unable to match his timing, I would almost end up falling over sometimes.
When that happened, I was saved by Ichinose-san.
Tokiya: “… Ah, how many times does this make…? You’re not improving at all, aren’t you?”
Ichinose-san sighed deeply while he was holding me.
Tokiya: “Is my leading so bad?”
Ichinose-san stared right at me with a troubled face.
Select the phrase!
Haruka: “T-That’s not it.” (+15 Love, +5 Music) (ち、違います。）
Tokiya: “Then what’s the problem?”
Haruka: “It’s….”
It’s because I got so nervous from being with Ichinose-san. But I couldn’t tell him that…
Tokiya: “…It’s?”
Haruka: “It’s because I’m… clumsy. I’m sorry.”
Tokiya: “No, that’s why we’re practicing. Please improve soon.”
Haruka: “…Alright.”
Tokiya: “I will teach you as much as you need until you’re able to dance. You absolutely have to be able to dance before the day itself, or we’ll be in trouble.”
Haruka: “I’ll leave it to you.”
And so, we continued to practice many times until the day of the dance party.
The day of the dance party.
The venue of the party was almost like a castle in some country somewhere.
A marble floor and shining chandeliers hanging down the ceiling. Extravagant dishes were lined up on the tables as if it was a buffet of a high-class hotel.
Live music was provided by a live band, and a luxurious deep red carpet was spread out over the stairs.
I had been provided a dress by the school for the time being....
But ordinary people like me really feel out of place …
Haruka: “Ah, Tokiya…kun.”
Tokiya: “Ah! Haruka….”
Haruka: “???”
Tokiya: “I… I’m just a bit surprised.”
Haruka: “Ah… it doesn’t suit me after all… does it?”
Tokiya: “It’s often said that fine feathers make fine birds.”
Haruka: “…T-thank you. Tokiya-kun as well, you… look… good…”
Tokiya: “Of course I do. … But even so, to be happy when you’re told that fine feathers make fine birds. … You really are unusual.” (giggles)
Saotome: “Ladies and gentlemen! Sorry for making you wait everyone. This fun party is about to start!
Today is a free and easy gathering. Everyone, please enjoy yourselves!!”
Tokiya: “…Haruka. You’ll dance with me, right?”
Select the phrase!
Haruka: “Of course.” (+20 Love) （はい。）
Tokiya: “Do you remember the steps?”
Haruka: “Yeah… Most of them…”
Tokiya: “Is that so…. Well then, I’ll lead. It’s okay to just leave everything to me.”
Haruka: “…Alright.”
Tokiya: “And one more thing…. Just for today, think of me as… No, it’s nothing.”
Haruka: “???”
It’s… only natural because we’re dancing, but our bodies are really close together…
His hand is on my back, mine on his shoulder. Ichinose-san’s lips are so close that I would be able feel his breath just by lifting my face…
Tokiya: “Haruka… Please lift your face.”
Haruka: “O-okay!”
Tokiya: “Don’t be nervous… Please entrust yourself more to me.”
Ichinose-san smiled gently, and tightly grasped my hand.
Haruka: “…I will.”
Maybe it was because I had a lot of practice, but I managed to dance smoothly by matching my breathing with his.
But…. Was it because … of our clothing being different from usual? My heart was beating really hard.
And Ichinose-san’s eyes were a lot more gentle than usual…
Aah, I really love this person after all. I was convinced of that.
If I could tell him right here that I love him…
Tokiya: “Everything alright?”
Haruka: “Y-yes!”
Tokiya: “It felt like your heart wasn’t really here. Just about whom were you thinking?”
Haruka: “Uh…”
Tokiya: “For just this time tonight, look… Look only at me… please.”
Haruka: “…I will.”
His earnest gaze. It was like I was being absorbed by those gentle and sweet eyes.
Tokiya: “Pfew. As expected, I’m quite tired from dancing.”
Haruka: “… Yeah.”
Tokiya: “Seems like I was a bit festive today as well.”
Haruka: “Is that… so?”
Tokiya: “Yeah. It’s just for tonight, however. Once today’s over, we’ll go back to the usual way of things. That’s how it must be.”
Ichinose-san was looking at me with pain in his eyes.
I’m sure that we felt the same. I could tell when looking at his eyes.
I understood.
I cannot tell him that I love him.
But I can’t help it, I love him so dearly.
I couldn’t control my feelings anymore.
Haruka: “Ehm… I… Tokiya-kun… I love you. For a while…. Maybe since the time we first met…”
I thought I should not have said it, but the three words that I had been holding back, had left my mouth.
It put it into words. I couldn’t help but put it into words.
Wooosh.... The cold wind of winter gently brushed against my cheeks.
Tokiya: “…”
Ichinose-san looked at me with a terribly sad expression on his face.
Tokiya: “…There’s a reason for love at first sight. Are you familiar with something like that?”
Haruka: “… What?”
Tokiya: “It seems like people are instinctively looking for genes that aren’t their own. It might be that they’re trying to make up for something they’re lacking… something they’re missing.”
Haruka: “… Something they’re missing?”
Tokiya: “Yeah, it seems that information is hidden within people’s pheromones.
When two people meet and they will instinctively sense if what they’re missing matches perfectly, and fall in love.
It’s often said that when meeting your soulmate, you can hear bells ringing inside your head. It seems like that is that mechanism.
I don’t know it very well myself, but… I heard such a story a long time ago.
… To be honest, I like you as well.
When I learned that you were my partner, I said some harsh things, but in truth I was happy.”
Haruka: “… Tokiya…kun….”
Tokiya: “…However, besides the processes that make living beings fall in love, us humans also have to think about the workings of our society.
In this academy… no, in the entertainment industry, Shining Saotome’s power is absolute.
And the absolute rule that Saotome has put into place is exactly that love is forbidden. Just how many people have broken this rule before and left the academy-no, the entertainment industry….
I’m someone more or less in the industry as well. I know its circumstances well.”
Haruka: “I know that....”
That’s why I always told myself I shouldn’t say how I felt…
Tokiya: “If I think about it, I might have felt something like that in my heart.
I’d taken a liking to you. I valued you as a musician. … and as a person as well…
And yet, I continued being cold to you, while I understood that I was making it hard on both of us.”
Haruka: “You weren’t cold. You always have been kind, Tokiya-kun. If I turn your harsh words around as well, you were entirely gentle.”
Tokiya: “You think too highly of me. I’ve hurt you a lot, haven’t I?”
Haruka: “I…”
Tokiya: “No, it’s fine either way how things have become now. Anyway, you have fallen in love with me, and again, I …. However, …”
His strong-willed gaze shot right through me.
Tokiya: “I have a dream…. To debut with my own song, rather than HAYATO’s. … I can’t give up on that dream, no matter what.
There’s no way I can continue acting like that fabricated thing…. Therefore… I cannot… accept your feelings.”
Words that were to be expected.
Haruka: “Yeah…”
Tokiya: “But I love the music that you make. The truth is that when I even think about you making songs for anyone else, it feels like my chest is about to burst….”
Ichinose-san pursed his lips tightly.
Haruka: “Tokiya-kun…”
Tokiya: “I’m a terrible man. Weighing you and my dream… And choosing my dream. Someone like me can’t be by your side.”
Haruka: “That's not true.…”
Tokiya: “Even though we love each other and understand each other, touching you is forbidden. Even though you are right in front for me…
Can you endure it? Can you suppress your feelings?
Besides, romance is prohibited, the moment you confirm your feelings, you’re violating the academy rules.
If we want to stay here, we should put distance between us. There’s no way I can stay beside you.”
Haruka: “I-…”
Ichinose-san had a sound argument.
Any feelings of love must be suppressed. I was aware of that this entire time and yet I ended up confessing my own feelings anyway.
I already knew how hard it would be to suppress my love when he’s right beside me…
Tokiya: “I gave up on you for my own dream. No, I resigned myself to give up on you. And that’s why we can’t be together.
In truth, I should have made that decision earlier. But, while putting it off, we have arrived here. I think it’s a good turning point.
The Dance Party. Once tonight is over, I will say farewell to love. That’s why, until then….”
Haruka: “You have been kind to me until the end.”
Tokiya: “I’m sorry. I ended up misleading you.”
Haruka: “Today’s not over yet.”
The hands of the clock were not yet indicating midnight.
Tokiya: “But…”
Haruka: “You said… until the end, didn’t you? I don’t… want to give up on that dream either. So... that's why….”
I was desperately trying to hold back my tears so they wouldn’t fall.
Tokiya: “Please stop crying here. I’ll end up being swayed.”
Ichinose-san hugged me tightly.
Tokiya: “I can’t look at your crying face… so please....”
He was looking at me with gentle eyes. And…
Tokiya: “Smile….”
A light kiss on my eyelids.
Haruka: “Tokiya…kun…”
*clock strikes*
At the sound of the midnight bell, Ichinose-san quickly let go of me.
Tokiya: “The time limit. This is goodbye, Haruka. Let’s disband our partnership.”
*wooosh*
Disbanding our partnership.
Those words pierced my heart deeply.
It would have been so much better if he’d said he hated me instead…
No matter how much we want to be together, or love each other, I understood that we couldn’t date.
I knew how painful that would be…
But, not being able to be together and aim for the same goal is many times harder.
Haruka: “… I don’t want to.”
I squeezed out the words when I told him.
Tokiya: “Why…?”
Haruka: “I love you. But I love the idol Ichinose Tokiya even more.
I want you to absolutely debut. And I don’t want it to be with anyone else’s song either. I….
I want you to debut with the song I’ve made. I want to aim for greater heights together, as an idol and composer.
If it’s not your song, my dream cannot come true.
If my feelings of love get in the way for us to be together, I will seal them away.”
Tokiya: “Can you that?”
I didn’t really have any confidence I could. But it’s all I can do. I have to do it.
Haruka: “I’ll do my best. Because I want you to sing my song at any cost.”
Ichinose-san thought in silence for a while and sighed.
Tokiya: “I understand. Then, please complete that song within one month.
If you can make a song that makes me think like that is the only song that I must use for my graduation audition....
I may have the willpower to throw away my love for you completely and see you just as a composer.”
Haruka: “Alright. I’ll do my best.”
Tokiya: “For the time being we’ll meet just to check up. Once the song’s finished, please let me hear it.
Let’s avoid any other interaction as much as possible. That’s okay, right?”
Haruka: “Yeah.”
I myself through that I had made a tough decision. But I couldn’t give up on him no matter what.
Therefore, I don’t regret it. I want to aim for our debut together with this person. That’s enough for now.
Mini Game
Ryuuya: “Yo, Nanami. Sorry for calling you out here. Then, there’s this. Today, I wanted to hear your opinion as a composer for a minute.
Though these are unfinished lyrics written by a student, it seems like I’m still worried by a number of things.
As a composer, when you think about matching the melody, how would you choose the phrases? Won’t you try choosing from amongst these?
Well, it would be alright if you think of this like the lyrics test you did before.
But since the lyrics haven’t been decided yet, it’s not like there’s a clear-cut answer.
If anything, you’ll understand to what extend your feelings match his… or something like that. Nah, it’s nothing.
Brace yourself. It’s about time.”
S Rank
Tokiya: “The many words you spin, permeate very honestly into my heart. It’s surely because we’re connected in the depths of our hearts.”
Connected in the depths of our hearts.
I see… if the feelings that words and music want to convey are the same, they will be delivered to the people that you properly want to convey them to.
Let’s work seriously on music with the same feelings from now on as well.
Chapter End
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2, 16, 18, and 20 :3
2:A song you like with a number in the title
6 day working week is a pain - Otoboke Beaver
Very fun band that my friends introduced to me. I love how they decide to scream in this song, sounds very therapeutic!
16:One of your favorite classical songs
Concerto polonois in G Major - Georg Philipp Telemann
Biased - this is the song that made me first chair viola back in high school. I rode that high for a solid year before I was deeply humbled at my new school lol
Years later though I still like it because that slide from Dolce into Allegro is so much fun
18:A song from the year that you were born
Song 2 - Blur
Still a song that has to be played at max volume whenever I hear it. I originally picked it up from the Tony Hawk games because that was my PT when I snapped my arm as a kid. Had a massive impact on my taste in music.
20:A song that has many meanings to you
You want to talk about a song that is loaded for me now?
Mary on a Cross - Ghost
I remember when this song came out. It was the footnote to Kiss the Go-Goat at the time, but I liked it as a song for my and my partner, Aurora. Then suddenly this song takes off and now I associate it with having to defend Why I Like Ghost to a lot of my friends that weren't familiar with them yet, and this song was their first exposure.
That was a wild time. Still like it somehow though. It's just a fun riff on 1960s music and a dumb song about marijuana and blow jobs.
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“
@sallycinnamons hehe okay. sorry this took forever I was like ‘ok if I post it I have to make double extra sure I’m satisfied with every song on there’ (special shout out to “Every Night” by THEE Paul McCartney, which I adore but decided was not right. It’s the only one I culled)
anyway HERE is a link to this playlist and below is a bit about why each song is on here or what gains the song entry to this playlist. Basically the organizing question is what does Love sound like to me, Mimi [REDACTED]? Like many great playlists it started as an informal shortlist in my head and I decided I really did want to keep track of them. You’ll notice maybe like I did after making the playlist that a lot of them are about someone you want to listen to or want to listen to you more than anything. clearly that’s the height of romance to me...
its not in any particular order, just how I added it.
1. “Jesus, Etc.” - Wilco - “I’ll be around / You were right about the stars”
2. “Only for You” - Heartless Bastards - first song I ever felt sounded like love to me, would have been first song if I had not been actively listening to Wilco when I decided to pull the trigger
3. “The Book I Read” - Talking Heads - “I’m embarrassed to admit it hit the soft spot it in my heart when / I found out you wrote the book I read”
4. “Ask Me Why” - The Beatles - “I love you / ‘Cause you tell me things I want to know” also John’s cold voice sounds like hes cryinnnnggggg :)
5. “This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)” - Talking Heads - as I mentioned earlier, often considered The love song in a catalogue characteristically devoid of them. Can’t pull out a lyric, all of them fit
6. “Ladies” - Fiona Apple - “Nobody can replace / anybody else / so it would be a shame to make it a competition”
7. “I Want You To Love Me” - Fiona Apple - Hey Guy Have You Heard This Song.
8. “Village Green” - The Kinks - ok this one is more getting at the fact that you can love a place so much, and also I always love how he goes back and sits with Daisy even though she’s married to the grocer. sometimes when you go to college out of state you form strong emotional connections with village pastorals okay?
9. “If I Needed Someone” - The Beatles - kind of incredibly blasé for a love song but thats why I love it I think?? It’s saying listen I don’t actually need anyone else but. If i did it would be you..
10. “Sugar on My Tongue” - Talking Heads - YAYYYYYYY BEING ALIVE IN A BODY AND HORNY FOR ANOTHER HUMANBEING IS BEAUTIFUL YAYYYYY LETS ALL HOLD HANDS
11. “Tim I Wish You Were Born a Girl” - Of Montreal - a repression enjoyer classic but its on here because he literally loves tim more than he knows how to think about. ok wow
12. “Concerto for Philodendron & Pothos” - Mort Garson - I have dreams about trying to orchestrate this one day and I’m giving the synth around :45 to a lone trumpet. That’s Love
13. “Nothing But Mine” - Billie Marten - “Be my friend / there is no other way to say it”
14. “Slide Away” - Oasis - “I dream of you / and all the things you said” & “Let me be the one to shine with you” & “We talk of growing old” NEED I GO ON? This one very recently has become an instant cry in the first ten seconds kind of song, which is nice. It deserves it
15. “Don’t Let Me Down” - The Beatles and Billy Prescott who is really quite crucial here - best John vocal of all time. Sorry. Don’t let me down please don’t let me down. Don’t let me down........
16. “Live Forever” - Oasis - “Maybe you’re the same as me / We see things they’ll never see” - man. man. man. man. man. yeah
17. “People Take Pictures of Each Other” - The Kinks - “People take pictures of each other / just to prove that they really existed”
18. “Village Green Preservation Society” - The Kinks - “Aren’t they the same thing? Love and attention?”
ok yay this was fun. If I ever add more songs I might come back to this post I really enjoy annotated lists
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I just came across your analyses of all the 5sos albums and can I just say: chefs kiss. amazing. from the way you approach them both musically and lyrically (are you a musician? you have a very good ear) to being able to tell who is singing which part of the harmony (when there’s more than 2 singing at once I have No Idea, and even when there’s just 2 I’m still a little hit and miss). so grateful you exist and did them!!! not only for my enjoyment purposes but also because of my crazy projects I’m about to tell you about just in case you’re interested
anyway, it started with the RAH version of teeth. I’m a classically trained violist, I’ve played in many orchestras, I looked and asked everywhere I could think of just to lay my hands on something like the score so I could maybe pull some musician friends together and play it. No avail. Then, sleep deprived and slightly manic and very unmotivated in the middle of writing my honours thesis I must’ve played that bass riff when messing around on my viola and was like ‘this isn’t even hard let me just open musescore’ and decided Luke’s voice best fit the cello and calum the viola and six hours later it was a whole orchestral piece with the riffs passing around the upper strings like the RAH version and also woodwind and brass instruments somehow and then the bass riff led me straight into thin white lies which quickly morphed into NITSW (and can I just say that bridge is the best thing ever when played by strings) and I was like, this is telling a story. That became the first movement of the concerto.
second movement had to start with the flutes playing the piano intro of lover of mine, then I borrowed ghost of you from youngblood and threw in lonely heart, all the ones in vaguely 3’s as far as timing goes went in, all satisfactorily longing (if mvmt 1 is Relationship Angst) ending on a reprise of ghost of you chorus a semitone up (I’m not even sure anymore tbh, it’s def less cohesive but pretty I think) and I tried to copy its RAH intro as an outro. By then I realised I wanted to make the third movement about self discovery that ended on red desert because the album is just SO SAD and it deserved a happy ending and I wanted to try fit as many songs from the album in as I could (no shame and kill my time didn’t fit thematically unfortunately and easier should’ve been in movement 1 but sonically it just didn’t go, at least not yet I’m open to attempting to incorporate any of those songs) so started with old me. I realised I could overlay it with best years. Weird choice I know but the chords and melody worked well enough (and I still don’t think best years has been brought to justice ngl). Then I overlaid wildflower with high which is surprisingly a combination that I love, and it worked music wise and I thought they offset each other alright?? I’m still not quite sure where I’m going with it yet. but then comes red desert and I did the RAH intro and the whole song with harmonies (does get repetitive and idk what to do with that yet) and it’s like. yay, I gave CALM a happy ending.
I guess what I’m asking is I want to do more of these for more of their albums or combination of them (like they’re genuinely so fascinating from a musical and storytelling lens I can’t get enough) and I’ve got some ideas but I want to hear if you have anything you can just hear coming after each other. like complete mess and red line or smth?? even moodswings and space between a rock and a hard place?? idk. just ideas. throw them all at me. I’ll do it and dedicate it to you
Okay, first, no, not a musician, it's just that my dad was a dj, so i grew up around a lot of sound equipment because he's very particular about sound quality and that totally developed my ear for that type of stuff and my interest for music is that much more intense because of it (i did teach myself how to play the guitar and i do sing, but, like, i don't have any real training) and I really appreciate you coming here to say these, because i have a lot of fun writing those. Also I saw your tags, don't know if you ever figured it out but the milf anthem is mrs all american lol
Second, I'm desperate to hear what you did with calm, from the description alone it feels like something impressive, I'm very interested to see how you overlayed high and wildflower because i can see it, but i can't really imagine how that would actually work sokaosksokas
And third, I actually have quite a few smaller combos i like to push together (i went through a mashup phase when i was learning how to play 5sos songs lol) but i usually go from lyrics and adjust the guitar to fit my voice, i have no idea how that could work for you, but one i always do is vapor -> lie to me -> why wont you love me -> bad omens (it used to be high at the end, but then they dropped bad omens and i liked the way that narratively bad omens closed the loop, you end up trapped in the relationship you know it's not working I like that a lot for this combo), i have a few weirder ones, that are mostly the ones that i never fully managed to make it work but i think they could, like moodswings into bleach, story of another us into close as strangers, i know you saw my post about rearranging 5sos5 to tell a story and for some reason i think you can overlay caramel and bad omens, and red line and you don't go to parties (this one i admitedlly don't really know, but i think the red line riff with the ydgtp riff could be something, just a feeling lol), there's the rhythm section mashup, tomorrow never dies -> babylon -> tears, that I think you can make something with the bass in all of them, for some reason vapor and me myself and i, talk fast -> not in the same way -> blender -> kill my time, this one i think its cool because of the 80s pop of the melodies and the progression of the story with the lyrics, lover of mine -> best years -> older -> ghost of you, again you have the narrative and i think the piano can work all of there to make this tragic love song. And this is everything i can think of right now, but i will probably think of more as soon as i hit post tho soaskookasas
But seriously, this sounds really cool, please let me know how it progresses <3
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If you're still accepting this, would love to know these about Niles and Luca: 🌌📷🍼🎵🌪
🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?
The inspiration for both of them came from this prompt. Visually, Luca's inspiration is partly drawn from how I would imagine a modern day Dorian Pavus, from Dragon Age, though it's not a direct map. Niles' inspiration is partly from a friend of mine back at Uni, though he was less 'Goth' and more 'general eccentric', but the laid-back, 'wibbly-wobbly-gender' vibes remain the same.
First thing I decided about Luca was that he was absolutely unabashed and unapologetic about everything that makes him 'him'. First thing about Niles was that he was quiet and awkward but sweet, and that he had a white husky that talks more than he does.
📸 CAMERA - do they enjoy having their picture taken? what’s their go-to pose? do they like taking photos? what do they take photos of?
Luca very much enjoys having his picture taken. He's good looking and he knows it, but he's not too obnoxious about it. He's one of those 'smoulder for the camera' posers, and the next instant he's falling about laughing because he knows it looks ridiculous. I can see Niles taking pictures at both moments and loving both resulting photos.
Niles is ok with having his photo taken, but he's an awkward poser and doesn't know how to stand or where to look. He'd prefer to take the photos, and he's pretty good at it, though he prefers landscapes to portraits of people. He does take gorgeous photos of Spectre's mismatching eyes, and he's even got a cute one of Tobias.
🍼 BABY BOTTLE - what are their thoughts on children?
Niles hasn't ever thought about having children. It's not that he's against the idea, but it's just something that hasn't crossed his mind. He'd be surprised if it's brought up, and would probably take a while to figure out how he feels about it.
Luca wants kids. He loves children, and he's got a nurturing, patient personality, and is really good with them. Ideally, he'd like at least three.
🎵 MUSIC NOTE - what is their playlist like? their favourite artists? do you associate a particular song with them?
Luca listens to all sorts. He's a 'put the radio on and see what's playing' kind of guy, though he has a few specific albums and CDs that he goes back to in certain moods. His mother used to listen to a recording of Martha Argerich playing Chopin's Piano Concerto No.1, and he listens to that when he misses her.
Niles has fairly varied tastes, and while he listens to much of the same music as his friends - Bauhaus etc. - he also enjoys other bands like Metallica, Tyr, and Omnia. Metallica his his go-to for long coding sessions :). He loves going to local gigs and festivals with smaller, less-well-known bands, and he also enjoys folk music, but while Luca will almost always have music on in the background, Niles needs to be in the right mood to have music on. He's quite audio-sensitive, and certain sounds/noises/volumes can stress him out, so he's got to be in the right headspace for them, including music.
🌪️ TORNADO - what is the biggest change you’ve ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?
I don't think I've made any significant changes to Luca since that first prompt, but Niles acquired his 'cliffhanger secret' after a little bit of thinking about his family and how it all slots together. :)
Thanks for asking this!
(Emoji asks here)
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guy’s playlist 🩰 (a glimpse)
꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ …also for @morgansplace LOL
☆ stargirl interlude - the weeknd (he walks around the apartment saying “my back arched like a cat” while leaning himself against the wall, counter, etc. and arching his back. honey is sending an sos signal. when he isn’t being a total shithead, however, guy actually has a deep understanding and appreciation for music. this song in particular riles guy up to the point where he has to pick honey up, set them gently on the bed, and worship all of them until they really do see stars.)
☆ el tango de roxanne - broadway cast of moulin rouge! the musical (guy was a theatre kid in high school and has always had a soft spot for musicals. this one specifically sends chills down his body and honey has come home to him singing this song in the shower; he’s surprisingly really fucking good at singing. the strings are “orgasmic” and the vocals “make him nut.”)
☆ call me little sunshine - ghost (guy has been listening to ghost for awhile and refuses to go a day without referencing at least one song. he loves the acoustic guitar in this one and just…generally loves the stage presence ghost has. he thinks they’re hot LMAO and he makes honey watch concert clips with him…he squeals when something attractive happens.)
☆ mariage d’amour - paul de senneville (before guy went to school for writing, he was originally going to do music. he played piano for years and this was one of the pieces that stuck with him. he longs to play piano for honey, but he has a small fear of them thinking it’s too cringy despite their agreement to the offer. he also picked up the alto saxophone for a time strictly because of careless whisper, but ultimately decided that reeds were not for him.)
☆ piano concerto no. 23 in A, k.448: II andante - mozart (he loves how tragic it sounds. when he listens to it, he imagines one of his characters from his writing going through different stages that lead them to being the villain. it’s a song that never gets old in his book, and he’s looked up the score to it dozens of times to read the music. he loves tragedy, and this piece portrays it perfectly in his mind.)
☆ i was made for lovin’ you - kiss (“tonight, i wanna give it all to you in the darkness. there’s so much i wanna do.” he listens to kiss and other kinds of dad rock, but this song was what he did constantly on just dance 3 when it was popular. he sings the lyrics to honey on repeat—he mostly likes the excuse to call them “baby.” he cannot keep himself still when he hears the familiar guitar and bass—he “has to shake that ass” and “honey you gotta see this—“)
☆ custer - slipknot (he thinks the vocals are silly and he loves to head bang to it. he listens to it with the straightest face while he washes dishes at the end of his shifts. he nods his head gently to it while he does so, but internally he is jumping up and down and pouring marinara sauce all over himself /j. he and honey jump around their apartment with this shit on full blast sometimes, god bless their neighbors.)
☆ creep - radiohead (do i need to explain? …okay but on a serious note, despite how it’s meme’d literally everywhere, he believes it to be a genuinely good song. the music feels so melancholy, and that kind of vibe is his favorite despite how happy-go-lucky he appears. he thinks the chorus ruins it LOL)
☆ rule of nines - spiritbox (he heard this song randomly somewhere and looked up lyrics until he found it. this is a song that guy and honey enjoy together specifically—when honey is in the mood for it, you know they’re both going to have a dance party. guy also does the screamo, growly lyrics surprisingly well…)
☆ let you break my heart again - laufey (plays this on the more quiet nights while they’re doing the dishes and cleaning up after dinner just before the weekend. he likes to wrap his arms around honey’s waist and give soft neck kisses as they simply do their thing. when the lyrics say “one day, i will stop falling in love with you,” guy gets all sappy and reiterates that he falls in love with them every single day, over and over again. it sometimes results in them slow dancing together, smiling like idiots and giggling. they feel like they did when they first moved in with each other; not exactly sure what the future brings, but all too welcoming of the hopeful warmth that spreads through their body.)
☆ puppy princess - hot freaks (he kinda hates the lyrics and the cadence of them but the chorus is too cute in his opinion so he keeps it on there anyway:) )
refer to guy’s playlist cover(s) at the bottom; i think guy could go for two very different vibes when it comes to his vibe, so i picked two :3
꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ
TWO IN A DAY?? …yes…i’m obsessed w this idea rn. a chaotic mix of music for our chaotic mess of a boyfriend <3. this one is definitely the most diverse of the three so far, but it’s fitting in my opinion. guy is ironically one of the most complex characters 💀 and he was supposed to be a fucking background character. again, if you want more then lemme know :3 i love doing this omg it’s so fun and i like how people are AGREEING WITH ME THATS SO COOL :(. okay ramble over. the contrast in guy’s covers is so fucking funny to me omg someone help porqué soy loco y necesito dormir pero no querer 💕
also, p.s., i am very new to tumblr (four days in) and i have a question: is there any way i can respond to someone reblogging my post without also reblogging my own…bc i make big posts and it takes over my whole page.
k bye 💟
#redacted audio#redacted asmr#redactedverse#redacted headcanons#redacted guy#redacted honey#redacted asher#redacted david#redacted caelum#samuel collins#redacted gavin#vincent solaire#i’m using all the tags i can#i love guy#i’m such a silly little guy#i need him on a spiritual level#don’t judge me#i didn’t forget the tags this time woohoo#:p#my headcanons are basic as hell#headcanon#song association
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The kindest of sounds.
Please listen to this while reading:ON REPEAT
https://open.spotify.com/track/3Dgmyz32dxvtxvUTPS0CUI?si=cr2Bf3ouQ_KqinBREqullQ
Warnings: fluff. Kissing.. ig? Oh and some NSFW (;
—-
Here you are, staring at the damn piano again. The desire to play again always sits in the back of your head, itching for you to go and press the key just to hear the sound.
But, you never dared. Not wanting to maybe ruin it, but right now it seemed almost unbearable.
Growing up you had loved to play, you played everyday to express how you felt on the inside. Every key was another note freeing from your heart.
That all changed when your father decided to sell you to Lady Dimitrescu for coin. You were terrified when you first arrived, you were simply a women meant to be turned into wine. Then the lady herself changed her mind, making you a maid with the excuse of “we need more maids, now that I recall.”
At that time you believe her. You had to, what other choice DID you have. But looking back now you knew it was a lie, still a mystery as to why she changed her mind.
But after a year, you begin noticing a shadow always being near you whenever you cleaned. To large to be you, and to big to be another maid. You noticed, the scent of perfume in the air always. Sometimes stronger than most but still, it was always there. Always.
Then you noticed that Lady Dimitrescu would tell the head maid to assign you to clean rooms that were near wherever she was. If she was in the library you were in that hallway cleaning, if she was in the dining room you were cleaning that dining room.
Not noticing the way she would stare at you with curiosity but of course she kept a cold look on her face. Never showing any emotion.
She was the mistress of the house, she could not show such “weakness” especially around her staff.
She would sometimes ask you what else you have to do, or point out something you missed to clean.
Simple. Professional, always. Never did her voice or eyes give the idea of her interest in you. But the more time went by those questions would turn into “how are you today.” Or “If you’re tired you may take a break.”
Sometimes she would smile, while sipping her wine. Soon it became a routine, you would clean and she would watch and do whatever she was doing.
That went on for three or so months, Until the head maid called you to dining room that day and told you that you were from now on assigned as Lady Dimitrescu personal handmaiden.
You were scared of messing up, but.. you were more scared to disappoint your mistress. Oddly enough,
You two seemed to move well with eachother. She would wake up and you would walk in with her daily coffee (which of course had blood in it) with fresh clothes set out for her before exiting the room. Waiting outside,
Then she would walk out and head towards the library where she tends to do paperwork for most hours of the day. Depends on what day it is.
You would stand a few feet behind her and watch, the way her fingers would glide across the paper before dipping her quill in ink with the most perfect handwriting you’ve ever seen.
Afterwords she would head down to the dining room where you would of course set the table, supply the meals for her and her daughters (sometimes) and wait to refill her cup.
Then she would retire to her room to sleep, and this went on for awhile. Never did she say anything or of course give anything away.
You noticed though that when you handed her something her hand would touch yours much to long for it to be a accident.
Or the occasional “Thank you.”
Sometimes if she was in a good mood, she would smile and say “thank you darling.” It scared you how it sped up your heart , butterflies going off in your stomach.
It was just a simple nickname, darling. So innocent yet so intimate. The more you served her the more she trusted you. The more she trusted you , the more she showed you.
After months of this back and forth game it seemed. Her being kind to you, then cold.
You doing your job while feeling her stare, or her working and you staring at her.
It was like you two were dancing but not together, but around eachother.
Seeing who gives in first, with her getting more comfortable with you she talked to you more,
“Sit and have a drink with me.”
“How did you sleep?”
But your favorite was.
“You should smile more around me, I’m not going to hurt you dearest. I do find your smile the utmost comforting.”
You swear she heard the way your heart would race whenever she said that, because her smile would turn into a mischievous smirk. Just slightly.
Soon that smile appeared almost every time she made eye contact with you , soon those “accidental” hand brushes were now on purpose. Her staring down at you whenever you were infront of her smiling.
Sometimes she would put her hand on top of you head and pet you. As if rewarding you, and god did you love it.
And then.. everything changed, the way you stared at her changed. The way you thought her changed.. you realize that you had grown feelings over the time with her.
You tried hiding it, you had to! You didn’t know how your lady would react. She would surely send you back to be a random maid.
And.. you couldn’t bear it. So you tried hiding your blush whenever she looked your way, or the way your body shivered in delight whenever she touched you.
You hoped your theory that she could hear you heart beat was just a theory, because you couldn’t hide the way your heart skipped a beat or sped up around her.
You hoped she wouldn’t notice the change, the way you would shy away from her touch.
Yet. This is Lady Dimitrescu, the most observant women you’ve ever met.
She knew. But you didn’t know that part. Yet.
Walking into your ladies bedroom you were shocked to see her already out of bed and sitting at her desk staring out the window. The sun hitting her face , showing every wrinkle, every pore. Fully exposing her but.. she was gorgeous, you couldn’t even take your eyes off her. She was.. breath-taking. While staring at her you didn’t notice she had turned her head at the sound of her door opening and was staring back at you.
Embarrassed to have been caught you duck your head trying to hide the blush that was on your cheeks.
You heard her get up off her chair, heels clicking off the ground. You hear her come closer and closer to you, feeling hand grabbing your chin and lift you up , there she was. Your lady bent down to make direct eye contact with you, her face was so so close! You could feel her breath on your lips. Her eyes staring so deeply into yours, the golden glow was beautiful. Her hat resting on her head making a shadow , seemingly intimidating but not to you of course.
you just found it attractive, as you did with almost everything about her.
She stares at you , smiling.
“Darling... why do you hide this face from me. You know I dislike you hiding from me.” Lady Dimitrescu spoke softly to you, but her tone still stern.
You stare up at her opening and closing your mouth not knowing what to say.. what do you say?
“I’m sorry m’lady it won’t happen again..” you whisper out , to nervous to even move.
Her hand on your chin moved to your cheek rubbing a thumb up and down. You try so hard not to lean into it, and it seemed as though she noticed.
Of course she did.
chuckling , her thumb went towards your lip. Grazing it, her eyes leaving yours to stare at your lips.
“You think I don’t notice the way you look at me ?” Lady Dimitrescu said to you, at that moment you felt your heart stop. Scared, nervous, worried. Everything in your head told you to run for it, but the grip on your chin tightened and a hand was soon wrapping around your waist, not a second later you were lifted up now at eye level with the woman.
Letting out a loud gasp you wrap your arms around her neck in fear of falling.
Staring deep into her eyes , yet again she speaks.
“I noticed the way you looked at me so long ago, but.. I’m the utmost surprised you didn’t notice the way I looked at you.” She continued , shocked at what you just heard. No way.. your lady felt the same.. not a second later everything clicked, the shadow, the perfume. The smiles, the hand touches. Everything.
Alcina chuckles at the shocked look you held.
After a moment you respond , “my lady..?” Still not quite believing your ears.
Alcina sighs before pulling you close you squeak like a mouse at the closeness.
“Must I just show you?” Alcina said, before taking you by the back of your head and kissing you.
Gasping you kiss her back, running your fingers through her hair.
“Alcina..” you whispered out when you backed from a kiss, first time ever saying her name her eyes widen before looking at you fondly continuing the kiss. Backing you up into a wall and you two just stay there, kissing feeling eachother, exploring.
Alcina backs away, staring at you before chuckling taking you away from the wall and you turn to see where she’s taking you and blush wildly.
Alcina was walking you to her bed, laying you down on it she straddled you being very careful about her size leaning down to kiss you again.
Alcina kisses your lips to your cheeks to your right ear,
“Let me show you how I feel about you..”
Then again.. everything changed, but this time. For the better.
That was about 7 months ago. Your relationship was rocky at first, because of the fact she didn’t know how to be compassionate with a human. But she tried, and that’s all you could ask for.
You told her a lot about yourself. But never about the piano, you look around to make sure no one was near before almost sprinting to the piano.
Sitting down you felt a familiar feeling. As if you were right back at home, away from your father, away from the responsibilities of your drunken father.
You felt peaceful. More than you usually do, like the piano was calling you for awhile. To return home.
With a slightly shaky hand you touch the keys..
You began playing the same song you always did,
The song starts here <—-
Fingers go against the keys fast, like you never took a break. You closed your eyes and just enjoyed the sound, the sound that made you feel so free,
You thought of everything that’s ever made you happy,
Your favorite meal, your favorite animal,
Alcina. The love of your life the women who forced her way into your heart without even trying.
You begin to feel the meaning of the song shift in your heart, and you began playing it as if she was right infront of you.
Eyes still closed you just listened and played letting your heart play the piano.
Alcina had been sitting in the library for about an hour waiting.
Waiting for her lover to walk through that door so she can pick you up and put you on her lap, as she always does.
But you weren’t showing up , annoyed she gets up out of her chair and walks out the door after bending down.
Walking down the halls of her home she hears the piano from the ball room playing, something she hasn’t ever heard be played. Just simply being there for decorating or because she felt like learning. She didn’t remember,
Walking towards the ball room she opened the door quietly as she could to take a peek of who was playing this beautiful melody.
To her wildest surprise it was you.
Alcina eyes widen as she stares at you, your eyes are closed like nothing else existed but the smile you had made Alcina smile herself, she feels herself fall for her little pet more and more everyday.
Walking over to you quietly she stood behind you, staring down at you as you play.
And just watched. You never noticed her and just kept playing, Alcina wanted so badly to run her fingers through your hair and kiss you. Rather she decided to watch this play out.
Soon the song came to an end. You sigh happily and lean back but feel a body right behind you jumping you turn around and go pale when you see Alcina staring down at you fondly, you had to look up so high that it hurt your neck because of her height.
You begin to stutter in fear you had upset her
“I’m so sorry my love I didn’t mean to-“ you were trying to say but she cut you off by placing her lips to your own after bending down.
Leaving the kiss a little to soon for your comfort,
Alcina chuckled moving a strand of hair behind your ear before taking a seat next to you turning her neck to look at you.
“My little dove.. why have you never told me that you played?” Alcina asked you, you blushed.
“I never thought it was important.” You replied to Alcina
She arches an eyebrow , leaning close to you almost a breath away from your lips staring deeply into your eyes
“Everything about you is important and I want to know all of you my dear. You simply shouldn’t hide such things from me, am I clear dove?” Alcina spoke out
You look at her fondly before cupping her cheek and kissing her, even sitting she was a lot taller than you. So she had to lean down of course.
She groans as your lips hit hers and Alcina quickly takes control of the kiss lifting you up and onto her lap where she likes you.
You wrap your arm around her neck pulling her closer,
“I won’t hide anymore from you my love, I swear it.”
You tell Alcina through the kiss,
Alcina pulls away to smile at you, before I quickly turned into a smirk that told you what was about to happen.
“Good, as it should be. But now let me show you how I play..” Alcina whispers into your ear, and grabs your hips with gentleness but roughness to let you know that she was very in the mood and you weren’t leaving that ballroom for awhile.
And well.. let’s say that piano isn’t going to have the same memory as before.
#Spotify#lady dimitrescu x oc#lady dimitrescu x female reader#lady alcina dimitrescu#hot vampire lady#lady dimitrescu#Dimitrescu#resident evil#GXG#alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu x reader#gxg#dimitrescu#house of dimitrescu#alcina x reader#gaming
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tua headcanons (vanya + music):
considering how vanya is a violinist + was part of an actual orchestra, i think it’s safe to assume that she went to a conservatory after she left the academy
and since she’s a strings major, there’s a very big chance she would’ve had to take up piano lessons as a minor subject
so think about this
what if after every apocalypse has been dealt with, the siblings move back into the mansion and of course, there’s a grand piano waiting just for her, perfectly tuned even after all this time, thanks to pogo’s constant upkeeping for the last thirty years
she hasn’t played in a while of course, but as soon as her fingers are properly warmed up, muscle memory takes over and she’s on a roll
it becomes a part of her daily routine, along with getting her violin skills back on track. it’s a lot harder than it used to be, considering how she hasn’t held an instrument in more than a year, but hey, they’ve got all the time in the world now
it especially warms her heart whenever her siblings--new ones included--randomly pop into her music room and sit for a while with their books or laptops, extremely willing to listen to her as she slogs away at scales and etudes and tchaikovsky
eventually, it becomes a Thing
most of the time, you’ll find at least three of them at once in the music room with vanya, reading or working or sprawled out on the floor contemplating the meaning of life with vanya’s music curling through the air in the background
sometimes, when vanya goes to get food, she’ll hear the piano playing by itself. just rough strains of a melody that somewhat sounds like whatever she was working on that day, but by the time she returns, whoever it is will be gone
sloane takes to her like a house on fire, and sooner or later, the sparrow girl is asking her for simple piano lessons
jayme and fei are still quite wary of her, but eventually, they start sitting in on sloane’s piano lessons, and sometimes, vanya catches them poking at the keys together under sloane’s careful guidance
christopher takes to hovering nearby whenever she practices. apparently bach relaxes him
even the sparrow academy boys warm up to her eventually, but ben still avoids them like the plague. vanya tries not to let that one sting. she’s already come to accept that he’s not their ben, not the same brother who saved her and held her and told her she was never a monster, but this one wears his face and still has all his mannerisms, and sometimes, when she forgets and he shrugs off her efforts yet again, she'll simply disappear into the music room for hours and practices until her fingers are numb and shaking
luther tries to learn at first, just so they can bond, but after he breaks a piano key one too many times, they finally decide that piano isn’t for him and he simply takes to working out in the next room over while she practices
diego’s hands are perfect for both piano and violin, but after a couple of lessons, she asks him if he’d want to try the cello instead
she sets him up with a cellist friend from her old orchestra, and soon enough, the sounds of yet another instrument fill the house
diego is a natural, his perfect aim meaning he never misses a note, no matter how high up on the fingerboard, and sometimes, vanya catches him blissing out at three in the morning as he practices, and it’s adorable enough that she never tells him, if only to keep seeing him love music almost as much as she does
of course klaus, being the little drama queen that he is, starts complaining that she’s got to teach him as well, which leads to everybody gaining a daily, very unwanted alarm clock in the form of klaus mercilessly butchering clementi
“oh god what have i done,” vanya groans as they all stand in the doorway of the music room, bleary-eyed and half her hair falling out of the ponytail she’d pulled it into before sleeping
marcus, who is annoyingly chipper even at four in the fucking morning, simply pats her on the head. ”there, there, tiny, he’ll probably tire of it in a few days and find something else to bother us with,” he says, and wanders off towards the kitchen with allison in tow to get breakfast started
after a few months, ben starts to hover in her peripheral vision, leaning against the doorframe whenever she works on her violin concertos, but when she turns to greet him, he’s already gone, leaving no trace whatsoever like the ghost he once was
so she lets the matter be, never mentioning it at dinner when the others ask her how practice went for the day, simply tuning louder when she’s about to start practicing the tchaikovsky as a signal for ben to come listen if he wants
one summer day, she goes to the music room, only to find ben already sitting there. there’s a second violin case by his side, already open, and when vanya starts to ask, he cuts her off by saying “look, that stupid piece you were working on wouldn’t leave my brain, so i figured i’d learn it so it’d go away. tchaikovsky, right?”
vanya nods and shuts the door behind her. “yes, but that’s a concerto, ben. it’ll take years of practice before you even get to that level and--”
“try me,” ben replies, cutting her off, and vanya hides a smile. no wonder this version of ben and five get along so well somehow: they’re both arrogant little shits
they start working together most afternoons, and eventually, ben stops avoiding her and starts seeking her out instead, asking her opinion on his intonation and technique today, asking if she’s already heard this version of a piece they both like, if she’d like to practice with him today, and it isn’t quite like old times, not just yet, but she’ll take what she can get, because her entire family has finally been returned to her, has doubled in size even, and this is the most peace she’s had in what feels like ages
they hold mini-recitals at the end of every month for those who’ve recently taken up instruments, and yes, it is a Mandatory Thing, stop rolling your eyes, five, we know you love it when diego plays
they all groan when klaus gets up to play but to everyone’s surprise, he plays an excellent nocturne instead of the sonatina him and vanya have been preparing, and when alphonso asks him where that came from, klaus finally reveals with an enormous shit-eating grin that he’s actually known how to play piano since childhood
there’s like a beat of silence as everybody processes that nugget of information
calmly, jayme flips the nearest cushion into diego’s waiting hand with one socked foot
fucking whoop his ass, her eyes say, and diego’s mouth curves dangerously
klaus starts backing up in horror but there’s nowhere to go
and thus the Great Pillow War ensues
vanya tries to stop them at first (”hEY MY VIOLIN CASE’S STILL OPEN THAT’S AN AUTHENTIC STRAD, I SWEAR TO GOD--”) and promptly pauses when sloane nails her in the head with one of the many stuffed toys klaus brought to the party
OKAY FUCK THIS NOW ITS ON
its pure pandemonium for the next fifteen minutes, and what’s even better is that it’s a free-for-all, so nobody really stops anybody from hitting klaus over the head with pillows
in fact there’s even a line
vanya takes a break from whacking five in the face and looks around at her tiny family, at its chaos and mess and fei yelling “aL, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T STOP HITTING ME--no, not you, allison, the other al, there’s too many of you--five, i can fucking see you lurking, you cheater, stop it!" and just sinks back into the cushions with a big smile
because this is it; this is exactly what she’s wanted ever since she was a child
vanya hargreeves is home
#the umbrella academy#tua#ua#umbrella academy#the sparrow academy#tua s3#tua headcanons#vanya hargreeves#ben hargreeves#five hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#allison hargreeves#diego hargreeves#luther hargreeves#christopher hargreeves#jayme hargreeves#sloane hargreeves#alphonso hargreeves#fei hargreeves#marcus hargreeves#eliot page#justin h. min#aidan gallagher#robert sheehan#emmy raver-lampman#david castaneda#tom hopper#cazzie david#genesis rodriguez#jake epstein
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Piano for Relaxation
Happy Nessian Appreciation Week! I love these two together and I love writing them. Oh, this will be fun! *grins maniacally*
Prompt 3: Music
Warnings: Absolutely none
Word count: 1405
@nessianweek
~
Despite how much stress she was under, and as a pre-law student her default stress level was “high,” Nesta Archeron never failed to spend a spare bit of time at a piano. Some days, she was lucky enough to steal an hour with the University of Velaris’s prized Bösendorfer grand, which lived on the stage of the concert hall, some days she settled for the baby grand in the recording studio, and some days, she was relegated to one of the crappy and usually out-of-tune uprights in the practice rooms.
This Thursday evening, she’d managed to get into the performing arts hall before it “closed” for the night. She scoped out the practice rooms and recording studio, mentally scratching the studio off her list of pianos since the “recording in progress” light above the door glowed red. Daring a peek into the concert hall, she smothered a little squeal. The stage door was unlocked, and probably would be for the rest of the night, leaving her free to play the best quality piano on campus.
She carefully placed her messenger bag by the leg of the piano, retrieved her worn brown leather music portfolio, and set it on the piano’s smooth music rack. Going through her usual warm-up motions, she stretched her fingers and hands, shook out her wrists, and rolled her neck. Then, with a musician’s soft pre-performance exhale, she lowered her hands to the polished ivory keys and began.
With scales, of course. How else would a musician begin practicing? Fifteen years of piano had ingrained a set of warm-up exercises into Nesta’s muscle memory, and she played methodically through each, from scales to arpeggios to rhythmic exercises, chord progressions and exercises, and her old nemesis, octaves and tenths.
Now fully warmed up, Nesta opened her portfolio, closed her eyes, and leafed through the scores, opening her eyes after a brief moment. Her gaze landed on the page and swept to the top, seeking the piece’s title. As it happened, she’d passed the first page, so she flipped back a few pages to reach the beginning.
Rachmaminoff Piano Concerto no. 2 in C Minor, Op 18, II: Adagio sostenuto.
A favorite.
And an extra challenge to play solo, sans the orchestral cues.
Nesta debated pulling up a recording of the concerto for background, but decided against it. Using the cues and her knowledge of the concerto, she merely played the first few chords, then slipped gracefully into the floating melody, doing her best to make the music a true sostenuto.
Her whole focus shifted to her hands on the keys as she played, all sense of her surroundings lost to the lush concerto. Rachmaninoff might have been one of the banes of pianists’ existence, but damn her if she didn’t love playing him. Especially as her very favorite mid-movement run came up. Her fingers flew over the keys in an intricate dance, rolling out the spritely chords and arpeggios, trilling up to the top of the phrase, and slowly descending back into adagio. This movement, one of her comfort pieces, never failed to drive away the pressures of her degree, not even when she was playing bits of orchestral accompaniment with the piano solo.
So deeply lost in the music was she that she didn’t even register the footsteps that crossed the stage, or the presence of another person by the piano.
Her consciousness lifted from the piano as she played the final chords, letting them decrescendo into silence before opening her eyes. And then nearly slamming her knee into the underside of the keyboard as she started.
“God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” gushed the blonde woman standing by the back of the piano. “I just heard Rach II coming from the hall and had to listen, and then find out who was playing it so brilliantly.”
Nesta flushed. “I’m all right, and so is the Bösendorfer, and thank you so much but I’m definitely not brilliant.”
“Yes, yes you are. Or at least that was. I’ve played piano for fourteen years, myself, and never once have I been able to perform Rachmaninoff like that. Aelin Galathynius, by the way,” said Nesta’s audience.
“Nesta Archeron. Fifteen years, myself. And before you ask, no, I’m not a music major. That’d suck all the joy out of playing.”
Aelin nodded. “Amen to that, and nice to meet you, Nesta. I’m not in music either, but I do play sometimes, usually when I need an escape from the living hell that is cardiology. I’m hoping and planning to be a surgeon. Hooray for expensive schooling!”
“Good Lord, that sounds horrible. But as an aspiring lawyer, I’ll toast to years and years of expensive school and then more years of struggling to pay student loans on a crappy salary.”
“Ooh, a lawyer. Do you have a specialty in mind?”
“Civil, preferably business litigation. I want nothing more than to stop corruption and see that companies are receiving all of their rights, and this is my path to that goal.”
“Impressive. So is Rachmaninoff just a side hobby of yours, then?”
Nesta smirked. “Yes and no. Yes, it’s not my main focus, but no, it’s more than a hobby. It’s how I relieve the intense stress of my life.”
“Me, too,” grinned Aelin. “You know, there are currently two grands on this stage…”
Nesta looked across the stage, where the music department’s other grand, a mahogany Steinway, sat. “That there are. Care to join me? You pick the piece.”
Aelin’s grin turned devilish. “Good thing I warmed up in the recording studio, then.”
Nesta smothered the questions she longed to ask as Aelin carefully folded back the cover of the Steinway, sat down, and shook out her hands.
And launched into the opening chords of Saint-Saëns’s Danse Macabre.
With a smirk to match Aelin’s, Nesta took up the phrase. Fresh indeed was the memory of playing this very piece as a duet at age sixteen, with her teacher as the second pianist. Two skilled pianists plus two excellent-quality pianos plus one magnificent piece equaled the notes echoing through the dark, empty concert hall. The Danse wound down, final notes fading into silence, and Aelin and Nesta looked at each other and burst into a two-woman round of applause. Which somehow became a six-hand round of applause, causing both women to turn sharply toward the stage door and notice a broad male frame taking up most of the doorway. Nesta rolled her eyes.
“You know, most people would either walk away when the piece ended or make their presence known to the pianist,” she deadpanned.
Cassian Ilnair flicked on a backstage light, granting a view of the grin creeping across his face. “I’m not ‘most people,’ sweetheart.”
“That much is obvious.”
Observing the exchange between the two, Aelin smirked, closed and covered the Steinway, and headed for the door. “I’d better leave you lovebirds alone. Whatever you do next, don’t do it on the Bösendorfer!” Snickering, she left the concert hall, footsteps clicking off towards the dorms.”
“She seems delightful, who was that?” inquired Cassian.
“Aelin Galathynius, probably my new piano person,” was Nesta’s reply. “Now if you’re done gawking at a real instrument, I need to close up the piano, finish an argument and sleep, preferably in that order.”
“You won’t play for me?”
“Cass, I’m entirely sure you just listened to that whole duet and probably some of the Rach I played before that.”
Cassian widened his eyes in innocence. “But that wasn’t for me, Nes. And Aelin’s right, you are brilliant.” He placed a finger to Nesta’s lips. “No protesting, Lawyer Archeron, you and I both know I tell no lies.”
Nesta snorted. “Right. I am serious about the sleep, though.”
“I know, I know. Far be it from me to deny a chronic insomniac her precious sleep.”
“Uh huh. About as far as your bed is from your minifridge full of caffeine and alcohol.”
“Touché, sweetheart.”
Closing the stage door behind her, Nesta headed for the campus apartment buildings, Cassian at her side.
“I mean it, Nesta. You’re a brilliant pianist, whether or not you believe it. And you’re going to make an even more brilliant lawyer, sleep or no sleep.”
“Don’t be smarmy, Cass.” But she was smiling, softly, as her fingers tapped out a bit of Rachmaninoff on the soft, worn leather of her sheet music portfolio.
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Twice HC- How They Would Make Their S/O Feel Better After a Bad Day
Requested: Yup
Request: How they would make their s/o feel better after a bad day
a/u: Hey, guys! So I hope you all had a great new year and yay first post of 2021! I meant to go on a break but not posting makes me nervous so I wrote an HC for the first in over a year. I hope you guys like it, but my posts still might not be as frequent so I’m sorry about that. I love you guys!
Category: Fluff and Minor NSFW
Nayeon
Nayeon would immediately notice the far off look in your eyes the second she greeted you at the door
Your usual cheerfulness was replaced with something more solemn as your smile never reached your eyes
She would immediately go into “Mom Mode” as she sat you down on the couch, and went to make you a cup of hot cocoa
Ordering take out from your guy’s favorite restaurant while she cuddled with you on the couch
By night’s end, delivery boxes littered the coffee table as your body began to feel heavy in Nayeon’s hold, “Thanks Jagi.” She would smile as she placed a kiss on your forehead, “Anything for you, Y/N-ah.”
Jeongyeon (This is my favorite gif of her)
Jeongyeon tapped her foot against the cement as she checked her watch, you were late getting out of work. Which was strange since you always made a habit of not staying longer than you had to
Another five minutes passed before your disheveled form made its way out of the building, and your girlfriend immediately knew you had a bad day
You didn’t even need to say anything as she placed a kiss on your lips and began walking towards the park outside your work (coincidentally, the same park the two of you had your first date)
Jeongyeon would talk about practice and the rest of the girls to ease your mind off today, knowing she did her job when she saw the way your eyes lit up at the sight of your favorite ice cream stall
A bright smile eventually finding its way on your face as Jeong fed you small scoops of her ice cream. “You’re amazing Jeongie.” The sincerity in your voice made your girlfriend’s face scrunch up in “disgust”. “Sweet talker.” You chuckled at her words as you leaned into her. “Only for you.”
Momo (This is perfect because Boo’s actually in this)
Usually it was you who would be taking care of Momo when she had a bad day. But now that the roles were reversed, she was determined to make you feel as special as you made her feel
By the sound of your voice on the phone she knew today had been rough and she wanted to make it just a bit better once you got home
So she got set with making your favorite foods for dinner. Even sending you a cute photo of herself and Boo with the caption, “We can’t wait for you to come home!”
As soon as you opened the door you were hit by the different smells of the dishes Momo had made, your mood lifting slightly as the sound of paws and feet came at you as your girlfriend wrapped you in a hug and Boo circled around your feet
The Japanese girl leading you to the dining table that was scattered with all your favorite foods. A smile broke out onto your face as you felt your heart swell, bringing her in for a kiss as you hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Momoring.”
Sana (Penny for your thoughts -> What’s on your mind?)
From the way the door slammed when you came into the house, Sana could tell you were not exactly happy
Her frown deepened as you went straight for the fridge to grab a beer. It was worse than she thought, as she watched you fall back into the couch. A heavy sigh leaving your lips as you just sat there
Sana made her way next to you slowly as she noticed the way your eyebrows knitted together, “Penny for your thoughts?” You nodded, leaning into your girlfriend’s touch as she ran her fingers through your hair as you talked about your day
“Wow, I do feel better. Thanks Satang.” You whispered as you buried your face into the top of your girlfriend’s hair as she snuggled into you
“Anytime, Y/N-ah.” She whispered back, placing a kiss to the top of your hand that was intertwined with hers
Jihyo
Jihyo could sense the second you walked through the door your day had not gone well, if the fact you were missing a shoe and soaking wet didn’t give any hints
You took one look at your girlfriend before sliding down to a sitting position at the front door, hitting the back of your head as you groaned, “Never tell me, ‘You should try jogging, it’s fun!’ ever again.”
The brunette bit back a smile as she came to kneel in front of you, brushing away the hair from your eyes, “Y/N, what happened?”
You looked Jihyo in the eyes as you explained how a branch had almost fallen on you, which caused you to dive into a person’s front yard, when their sprinklers turned on and their dog came out and started chasing you, then just you thought you weren’t gonna get away you threw your shoe to distract it
Jihyo concealed her laughter with a cough as she wrapped you in a hug, “My poor baby. How could I ever make it up to you?” The teasing glint in her eyes wasn’t lost to you as you smirk. “Well, I can think of a few.”
Mina
Mina had noticed the far look in your eyes when you got home, but decided against prying when you offered to play a game with her on the new Switch you had gotten her for Christmas. An offer you rarely made which caused her to take it when she had it
Your girlfriend didn’t find it difficult to beat you, but after about the fifth time you loss Mina could see it was starting to become more personal than she thought
“Let’s take a break.” She offered, pausing the game so you would look at her. “No, it’s fine.” You insisted but Mina refused. “Something’s wrong Y/N. What happened today?”
You sighed as you revealed that the project you had been working on had fallen through and your months of hard work had pretty much gone down the drain. You sniffed hard, holding back your tears as Mina pulled you into a hug, “Oh, Y/N. You should have told me sooner, I’m so sorry.”
You shook your head, “It’s not your fault, my boss is just stupid.” Mina cupped your cheek, “The stupidest.” The Japanese girl’s words made a smile break out onto your face as you pressed a kiss to her lips.
Dahyun
Dahyun had noticed the somber look in your eyes when you had picked her up from work. Your smile replaced by a persistent frown as you pulled into the driveway
Before you could go any farther into the house Dahyun caught your wrist in her hand, “Tell me what’s wrong Y/N.” You were about to open your mouth to protest when Dahyun held a hand up, “Save it. Just come with me.”
You shrugged as you allowed your girlfriend to drag you into the living room. Before she sat you and herself down at the piano, not saying a word as she let her hands glide up and down the keys
Your eyes closed as you let the music move you, feeling your body lighten as your girlfriend concluded her concerto. “That was amazing Dahyun-ah.” A light blush colored her cheeks as she smiled, “Thanks Jagiya. My mom used to play it to me when I wasn’t feeling too good either.”
You let her words sink in as you pressed a kiss to her cheek, “You’re too good for me.” Dahyun shook her head, as she rested her head on your shoulder, “No, you just need to realize you’re worth a lot more to me than you’ll ever know.”
Chaeyoung (TW: Meantions of pet death, P/N -> Pet’s Name)
Your red eyes weren’t lost on Chaeyoung as you did your best to wipe away any stray tears that fell. The news of your family dog’s death had really hit you hard and she’d be lying if she said it hadn’t hurt her too
She had met your prized pup many times visiting your family and knew from the first few dates she had gone on with you, that your dog meant the world to you
So deciding that she was going to put what she did best to good use she went to work. Her nose buried in her sketchbook for most of the day as you left to pay your respects
It wasn’t until later that night did she see you again, a wrapped present on the table as she stayed latched to your side, “I’m so sorry about today Y/N, I know how much you loved P/N. And I made something for you.” She handed you the wrapped present, “Open it.”
You bit your lip as you pulled back the wrapping paper, gasping as you turned over the picture frame. It was a drawing of you and your dog in Chaeyoung’s style with the caption, ‘In our hearts forever.’ The sound of your tears hit the glass of the frame as you tackled your girlfriend in a hug, “I can’t thank you enough.” Chae smiled as she held you tight, “No need baby.”
Tzuyu
Tzuyu knew as soon as she had stepped into the apartment something was off. And her suspicions were only confirmed when she noticed your papers had been thrown in the trash
Following the sound of sobs to your office, pushing open the door to find you curled in on yourself in your desk chair. She quickly rushed to your side as she cupped your face, using her thumbs to brush away your tears, “Hey, Y/N. It’s okay, it’s me. I’m here. What happened?”
You sniffed hard, “I got passed up, I broke my back for the bastard and they passed up my promotion.” Tzuyu frowned, she knew how hard you had been working these past few weeks, “Oh, Y/N. God, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
You couldn’t respond as your body continued to tremble so your girlfriend opted to just hold you. Whispering sweet nothings in your ear till your breathing finally evened out. Your eyes puffy from crying as you leaned into Tzuyu’s hold
“Thank you Tzu.” Your girlfriend smiled as she placed a kiss to your forehead, “No need. I’m sure if you ever want it, we’re always looking for new managers.”
#fortwice#twice#twice imagines#twice prompts#twice headcannons#twice hcs#twice fluff#im nayeon#yoo jeongyeon#hirai momo#minatozaki sana#park jihyo#myoui mina#kim dahyun#son chaeyoung#chou tzuyu#twice nayeon#twice jeongyeon#twice momo#twice sana#twice jihyo#twice mina#twice dahyun#twice chaeyoung#twice tzuyu#twice x reader#snowrubies#twiceinadream
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Levi x K-pop! Reader - It's not what it looks like - Chapter IV
Summary: Did he... Kiss you?
Based on @cakeswashere KISS CAM prompt: x
Previous Chapter | Master List | Requests | Next Chapter | Chapter I
It's not what it looks like
《 Chapter IV》
It had been a long day at the office. This month had proven a little overwhelming, R.I.E, three months before, had bought a small marketing firm in order to integrate it into its ecosystem. Every month without fault there was some kind of miscommunication with them that resulted in some sort of internal problem. And who had to fix it? Him, it was always him. He would have stayed later at the office if he hadn’t made plans with you.
He looked down at the tickets in his hand; You’d gotten floor seats.
“Did you find her?”, Hange asked. He didn’t answer instead his eyes wandered around trying to locate you. There you were. Sitting, one leg hammering the floor, your face glued to your phone. He smirked, “There”, he said pointing his nose at you. “My Queen!”, Hange screamed waving ferociously. He saw your face detach from your phone, your eyes scanning for Hange’s voice. You couldn’t locate them, his smirk deepened as he scooting into the row, Hange trailing behind him.
When he reached you, he took a second to look at you. You were wearing a short thing that hiked up way too high up your thighs. His eyes lingered on your legs, they looked smooth. Without even thinking about it, he took off his leather jacket, throwing it brusquely on your lap. This visibly startled you, your eyes looking up to him riddled in confusion; your face half shaded by your cap. His expression was neutral. He looked good; his dress shirt looked a bit wrinkled, his sleeves rolled up. He probably came straight from the office. Of course, you knew that he had been dealing with a particularly tricky absorption. You smiled up at him, he didn’t correspond, simply stared. “My Queen, hello!”, greeted Hange, poking her head from behind Levi’s shoulder. He rolled his eyes and sat down.
You looked striking.
He wasn’t the only one who had noticed. It felt like the whole section around your little trio was pointing and taking pictures. Hange sat at your other side. He felt pleased, at least you wouldn’t be sitting next to a stranger. Sometimes you could be quite dense, like now, you were chatting away with Hange about some new singer, seemingly unaware of the lustful eyes around you.
He didn’t like it.
There was little he could do but glare when he felt the person too close to your seats. He sank into his chair, already feeling a bit riled up, being in the public eye was adding to his stress. He crossed his arms in front of his chest not really in the mood to engage in conversation. This didn’t seem to be a problem for you, too busy waving at nearby fans, smiling without a care in the world as people pointed and treated you like some kind of display. They could at least have the decency to leave you alone on your time off. Hange was no help, she was basking in the attention, poking you so that you would look across the court at gaping fans desperately trying to catch your eye. He was getting a little frustrated. Feeling a bit antsy, he took out his phone reading unnecessary emails. That would keep him distracted. Why did he come? This was far from a good idea.
He briefly looked at your lap, his jacket covering your lap. He couldn’t even begin to think the mess that would spur from that little act. Sure, the media now knew you were strictly just friends and that you actually went out together in a platonic way. But they hadn’t seen you in public, there were no pictures. Everything was just retellings of people who had seen you together like at the bar, the other day. He groaned quickly typing an email to PR.
Stop any stupid pictures from leaking.
It sounded threatening. “Serves them right”, he thought sending the short message. They had enough to prepare for what the media would do seeing you and him in public. He wasn’t completely delusional, he understood that not everything could be blocked but, this much they could and would do. After the hell that had been your little crowd diving, they needed to remind him why he paid them the exorbitant amounts of money they billed him monthly.
Contrary to what the media was spitting out, you and he weren’t all that different. There was a reason you were… friends. As had become painfully obvious, you both had a love for the same kind of food and wine, not to mention concertos. That first dinner, he had mentioned his favourite composer in passing, but you latched on to that for the rest of dinner. He hadn’t been able to talk to someone so thoroughly in a very long time. Perhaps that’s what made him venture into inviting you to a concerto. And boy was he glad he had. That had been the most pleasant of your surprises; that you shared so much in common with him. You even recommended a few modern composers that he had dismissed years before. And what’s worse? You had been right.
The one difference? He could never get used to how public you were. Even If the media didn’t publish any pictures of the two of you together, they always knew where and with who you were. Storied came a mile a minute with so many listed sources that he couldn’t possibly track them all down and shut them up. That had never happened to him. He was well known at best, but people barely knew who he was because he rarely showed his face. Recently, however, that had changed. He couldn’t go to his usual tea shop anymore without at least someone taking a picture of him. He knew why it was happening, but, if that was the price to have you close, he would gladly pay it.
He sighed, reclining further into his seat. He didn’t even like basketball, except, you had looked so proud holding the tickets. Your voice was so hopeful that he would come. He had stayed the afternoon watching videos to at least understand the game somewhat.
“Sorry”, you whispered at him. His eyes lazily looked at you, his face still facing forward. “For what?”, he asked a little taken aback. “I know you’re not exactly a fan”, you said apologetically. “Hmm”, he answered his eyes returning to watch the court. “I didn’t tell you this”, you said still whispering. The only indication that he was listening was his raised eyebrow, “but I also got us tickets for Yann Tiersen”, she said her voice dripping with excitement, “but I only managed to get two”, you explained further. Ahh, this is why.
Hange liked basketball. You didn’t want her to feel left out. “Then why am I here?”, he asked his voice deep and velvety. It made you feel as if butterflies had hatched in your stomach. “Well,” you said licking your lips, “I didn’t want to be the only one who didn’t understand what is going on”. He smiled, startling again the butterflies. He chuckled, covering his mouth with one of his hands. “Speak for yourself”, he answered playfully. “PASS THE BALL!”, Hange screamed, “PASS.IT”, she yelled. Both of you turned to watch her, frown in place, eyes glued at the court. You chuckled, his eyes now on you, he smiled. Perhaps basketball wasn’t that boring of a sport.
* * *
It had been a long fifteen minutes; too many noises, people hailing, complaining, everything had to be a scream. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate on the game, he kept getting distracted by your knees occasionally knocking into his. Every time without fault he would jolt to attention. You seemed to not notice at all; your attention fully on the game. This somewhat irritated him.
You were always like this, he knew you didn’t particularly enjoy basketball, in fact, he would bet his right leg that you didn’t even know any players besides LeBron James; but, like anything you did, you always got weirdly excited just immersed yourself in it despite your lack of interest. He had already seen you make your small hands into tiny fists and shaking them whenever the yellow team made a point. It was cute.
He sighed looking down at his phone, they were finally taking a break from the game and he could check on the emails that had already accumulated in the short period of time since he last checked. His thumb scrolled reading the latest proposal for budget from the marketing department; they were asking for, yet again, another increase in budget. He frowned, the overwhelming chatter around him dying down.
Something felt off.
He could feel the whole court staring his way. He turned to check on you. You were looking down at your lap fiddling with his jacket. You were nervous, his eyes narrowed. He could make out a pink tint colouring your cheeks. “Also embarrassed”, he noted. His eyes shifted to Hange, she was staring wide eyes mouth opened. His eyebrow rose in confusion. The fuck was going on.
“Well?!” Came a voice from behind him, “kiss her!”, the voice screamed.
He could have choked.
His eyes were fully alert, he twisted his body to turn to see who the fuck was talking. “The fuck?”, he asked annoyed. “Yeah! KISS HER!”, it was a woman this time. He quickly turned to see her. “KISS HER!”, yet another. “Kiss her!”, “kiss her!”, the crowd began to chant.
“It’s the kiss cam!”, mouthed Hange. He immediately relaxed. He looked up at the massive screens, sure enough. There was a heart-shaped filter focused on you and him, “kiss cam” scribbled at the bottom. Raising both hands and crossing them in an “x” shape at whoever was filming him. A chorus of boos echoed through the court. He sighed, crossing his arms in front of his chest and sinking into the chair again.
He looked up at the screens, a failed animation playing. He sighed, the camera turning to another couple. “Calm down, it left”, he whispered. You nodded, unable to speak; your cheeks still flushed. His eyes scanned over your figure, they glimmered with curiosity. Smirking, he returned his gaze back to his phone, “Good”, he thought.
* * *
Yet another break came.
Finally, half time.
He just needed to get through another two breaks.
As he had decided, he took out his phone yet again, reading the budgeting proposal; they were finally making some sense. It looked coherent and well structured, they hadn’t asked an exorbitant amount either.
“Levi”, he heard Hange call out. Unwillingly, he twisted to look at the woman. “Look!”, she mouthed pointing at the goliath of a screen. He groaned, there he was, frown displayed on TV with you next to him, “KISS CAM”, written in big bold purple letters. He could see you blushing even from the low-quality camera pointed at the both of you.
“Just do it”, Hange said making you flinch. His eyes narrowed at your response. “Common! Kiss her man!”, someone screamed. “Yeah, kiss the girl!!!”, “Kiss her!”, “Don’t be a pussy! Kiss!”.
The previous chant echoing throughout the court, “Kiss her! Kiss her!”.
You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, bones included, being rejected on national TV was pretty embarrassing. Did he not want to kiss you? Had this tension between the both of you simply been in your head? You wanted him to kiss you. You wanted him to want to kiss you.
“Fuck it”, you heard Levi whisper. Callous hands cupped your cheeks, softly guiding your head to face him. Steal grey eyes greeted you, his nose next to yours.
And then…
You felt it.
His lips came soft, barely gracing yours. The front of his bangs tickling lightly your cheeks. His eyes were half-lidded, avoiding your shocked irises. You couldn’t move. It had been so fleeting you that you could have missed it. You blinked, feeling the warmth leave your lips.
His face retreated from yours, his body returning casually to his seat.
You simply stared, too surprised to react.
Your stomach somersaulted, a faint ringing sound covering your ears; loud enough that you barely registered the crowed erupting in cheer and whistles.
His lips had been soft.
Your hand reached up to your lips, your fingertips touching gently your lower lip.
He kissed you.
Heat. Your cheeks coloured gently turning peach.
You didn’t say a word.
#levi ackerman x reader#levi#levi x reader#rivaille#levi rivaille#rivaille x reader#levi ackerman#levi ackerman x you#levi x y/n#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#aot fic#aot fanfiction#snk fic#snk fanfiction#reader insert#it's not what it looks like series#levi aot#aot#snk#kiss#kpop reader#alternative universe#cute#fluff
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Unseen audience
(actual piece under the cut, Mozart Piano Concerto 23)
It was late evening, the only ray of sunshine entering the room was a subtle line coming from the curtains. Almost close curtains, like the window that let new and fresh air make its way in the room. The moment he saw that line of light in the dim room, a music played in his head. A single piano note, followed by another one and then by another, creating a melody so well known. That melody fascinated him since the first time it reached his hears.
Everything felt immediately calmer that day, like the world was at peace forever. The urge to walk near the piano was strong, so he went and sat, starting to gather the courage to let his finger move on the keyboard. For some reasons, the thought that it was not the right moment to play music was stuck in his head. That melody matched his humor. To pour out his feelings meant to recognize them; there were no coming back from that assessment. Even if the piece he was meant to start was a calm and peaceful melody, nonetheless it concealed a sense of loss, intimacy, and pain. If it came across your mind without thinking about it, it means something, it must, isn’t it? So just start.
With that voiced thought, he started. The first touch, and then, after some time, the second. You know the exact moment when you must press the following key. The flow will tell you. Trust music, become a unicum.
If a moment ago he was reluctant to start playing, there was not any reluctance anymore. It felt liberatory indeed, his finger dancing the purest of all things. How long had he longed to play; but he was simply not aware. The moment finally arrived out of necessity from the deepest of his heart. As he continued to play, he remembered how much he enjoyed playing music. As a kid he just felt amazed by how so many different sounds could come out from the piano, and by the infinite combination of notes that generate beautiful melodies. The act of creating. Shaping. He thought of his cousin, now a Silent Brother, and wished they could play together. No, he wished he was there with him. He wished he had stayed a little more after the attack at the Institute. The sound continued, and it made him realize that he somehow knew that Jem could understand him. He could tell him how he felt at the thought of his sister with a broken heart, how he desperately wanted to be useful, how he felt guilty for everything he had done, actions that made Cordelia reluctant to ask for his help eventually.
He was there, playing alone in the room, silence his only companion. Now he remembered the last time he played in front of people. It was that party organized by that one shadowhunter family, where he showed up late and saw that everyone, his sister included, was quite in high spirit and decided to match the atmosphere. No one would notice my improper aria, he believed, while directing the body toward the piano, except that someone did, and got scolded for that. He smiled at the memory. His mind went to the person who arranged the composition, a piano concerto. From what he could remember, it was composed in occasion of a public event in Wien. There must have been a lot of people. Now, and in general, he did not desire to be surrounded by a particular large audience. For him, to play for someone he held dear, or for someone who simply appreciated music, was everything he could ask for. As soon as he was arriving at the end of the adagio, like before, not a sound but a figure of another person shaped in the back of his mind. There were concerns and sensations toward that person he could not express with words, but the music that came through his fingers from the piano...maybe could alleviate his sorrow. Alastair decided to indulge a little more, and resumed the melody, one more time.
Late in the evening was not the best time to have a walk, or at least not when it was too cold outside. Still, the only thing he felt he could afford doing, without having to feel the heaviness of the countless questions that run thorough his head, was walking. The question was why, declined in a lot of different outcomes. Why things turned out like this when everything seemed to be adjusted. Why did I believe there was a chance? Why did he say it was not possible? Whydidn’t I insist? Why the way he hurts me the most is always with words?
He wanted to talk to him, at the Institute, but the last time he attempted to look at his face he knew better it was not the case, because the sorrow and discomfort around his face told enough of his state that even if he tried to have a conversation, he would have leaved. Not that he did not understand: the worry for his sister and mother probably occupied all his mind. He let got that time, again. He did not encounter him since that day. His walk brought him near the house of that person anyway.
Notes came from the distance. What he heard where timid sounds that seemed to come from far, far away, but which were nearer than one could imagine. Something in the style of that music made it unique, as if the person that was playing was unmistakable. The person’s house was at his sigh, and he came nearer. There was no doubt, it was him playing the piano. The window was slightly open, but he could not see inside because of the curtains. The melody was refined and elegant, so delicate. He thought of Mozart, though her was not sure this was also one of hi pieces. He abandoned himself to the sound of the piano, leaning on a wall near the window, looked up, gazing at the sky. He traveled thanks to that music of his. He saw moments of the past. Alastair standing up at a gathering, looking around, apparently sure of himself, his eyes the only sign to deceive his insecurity. He saw that time when those same eyes softened when they were both standing at the entrance of an estate, making him realize, or convincing him even more, that Alastair was more than what his fellow seemed to consider. He was indeed more, and he wanted more of him. For now, all he could have, was this precious moment. There was a moment, during the flow of the music, he felt like he could hear his voice saying You were everything I could not dare to hope to desire. You accepted me when I thought everything was lost. I am here, listen, I pray you. He let himself indulge in the sound, allow it to enter and warm his heart. For some time, Thomas felt this moment was the right place in the world he had to stay.
By the Angel, you play so well, I would remain hours here, just to listen.
The music ended with an ultimate gentle note, leaving Thomas’s eyes fixed to the sky. It took some minutes for him to recompose, before realizing he had shed tears, now on his cold cheeks. Eventually, they would dry as he resumed walking the street, distancing himself from a place he desperately wished to have a chance to enter.
#thomastair#thomas lightwood#alastair carstairs#thomas x alastair#the shadowhunter chronicles#the last hours#fic#SoundCloud
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Crying. Why was he crying?
ye, infelix doesn’t cope well with his past, it haunts him so to say
he’s one of my more broken characters
full story under ‘read more’
PAST LIFE
(witten as a comission by the amazing @/tomokoseph on twitter)
Infelix had the flat all to himself. It wasn’t a first for him—far from it, he’d say—but it was still a rarity. Not only that, but he had a week without any of the others running about; it was a far cry from the two days at most he’d spent alone. And how did this begin? A modeling gig? It was only the third day of his isolation, and he already wasn’t sure. Though even if the memory had become a haze, he could still find necessary details.
It all began as a long conversation on a rainy afternoon. With a sudden text letting Dorcha and Flora know they’d been selected for a bigger modeling job, they gained congratulations, only to surprise the rest with how long they would be gone. Misha would join the pair—it seemed everyone expected that—and after that, it felt like everyone wanted to join along. Diopetes seemed more than eager to join the newly created trio. After contemplation, Mire decided he didn’t want to be left out of this team of sorts and tagged along even if the whole thing was of no interest to him.
And then there was one. But even with all of the others’ pestering, metaphorically and literally tugging on Infelix’s arm so he could go out farther than the city for once, he wouldn’t budge. As far as he was concerned, someone had to look after the apartment (a lame excuse). Admittedly, he was surprised that everyone let him get left behind, but he wasn’t complaining.
Infelix didn’t do much throughout the days, savoring the time to himself that slowly counted down to the group’s return. It’s not that he hated their presence, but sometimes the constant conversations became overbearing, and silence only came about in the dead of night. Hell, the more he thought about it, he should have gone along to make sure no one got in trouble. And yet, out of his volition, he let them go without a peep. Considering they were all used to their human vessels, nothing too wild could stem from one week unsupervised. Hopefully.
Now, on the third day, he could admit he was getting used to this mundane routine of his. It began to grow on him, even turning into a comfort he never thought he’d ever experience. To know it would disappear within a few days didn’t click yet, so it felt like paradise being able to stay anywhere he wanted without anything to interrupt his train of thought. With that, he decided to do something he hadn’t in a while: listen to music.
After laying on the couch for what felt like hours, he stood up and walked towards their old, small shelf. While it remained empty for a while, Flora insisted they decorate at least a little. That’s what ended up with them owning a few potted plants, books they’ve never read, and a used record player that came with a collection of vinyl records. Pulling the record player out of the top shelf along with a random record, he walked towards the couch, having to place it on the ground to plug it in. After a bit of fumbling around, the record was in its place, and the needle set down and slowly bringing it to life. He then stared down at the album he had picked out. Brahms? Not a bad choice. As the sounds of Piano Concerto No. 1 filled the room, a thought came to Infelix’s mind: I need a drink.
After a quick jog to the kitchen and rummaging through the shelves, he pulled out an ornate bottle of whiskey that he didn’t touch too often. It was on the more expensive side—one he doubted anyone could drink regularly with its price—so he saved it for special occasions. Well, special wasn’t exactly the right term, but it felt most appropriate to how he felt then. Taking a glass one shelf down from the alcohol, he walked back to the living room, falling back onto the couch as he poured himself some whiskey.
Taking a sip as he placed the bottle onto the coffee table before him, Infelix let out a sigh as the strong drink slid down his throat. As the intense playings of a piano that graced his ears died down, transforming into soft strings, he stared at the wall, his previous thoughts washing out of his mind into nothingness. As he relaxed further into the couch, taking a bigger swig of his drink, he wondered what would have happened if he had Dorcha and Flora’s lives. What was it like running about in pretty clothes, getting pictures taken and blown up for others to see, feeling somewhat significant in this anomaly of a universe?
Then, he paused. Once, he felt like someone of significance, somewhere in a land from long ago.
Deadramel.
No, he hadn’t forgotten about the realm. It would always be lingering in the back of his mind, still waiting to come to the forefront. After getting used to human years, that moment in time felt like an old memory, though it had only been a little over a decade since then. As he took another sip of his drink, he realized he was running dry, leaning forward to pour himself a little more.
Infelix remembered how everyone treated him before, becoming an important demon to all who knew him. But he just had to ruin it all, following along with Mire and Dorcha’s plans of killing the King, turning into a traitor to all in a single day despite centuries of trust. Even then, he didn’t blame the pair more than himself; why did he let such a plan go through? Grimacing, he drank down more whiskey, finding that it went down smoother the more his thoughts ran.
Before this, Infelix lived a far better life. He lived with prestige, was respected by all, second only to the King. All that he needed was at his disposal, and any commands met in moments. And even before his lavish life within castle grounds, merely roaming the wasteland Deadramel used to be, there was still one thing he had that couldn’t compare to anything else in the world: the King’s love.
But that was long ago. Now all Infelix had was this lackluster flat, surrounded by the ones he could have stopped, living a life where he felt he was rotting away. He felt like a hollow shell of the demon he once was, and the thought made his head throb in a way he rarely felt. By then, the music had disappeared into the background, barely heard by the never-ending words that rushed through his mind. They mocked what he had turned into, about how he’d never get back his past life no matter how he tried. No more Deadramel, no more of the other demons he cared for, no more of the King; all of these were memories he could visit, but all they’d do was bring him pain and suffering.
Staring down at his glass, at the drops of golden alcohol that sat at the bottom, it didn’t seem like enough. Placing the glass down, ignoring how it hit the table with a thud hard enough to break it, his eyes met with the whiskey bottle. It was still three-fourths full and, while he was unsure if it was even a right decision, all semblance of rationality had disappeared from him. In one quick movement, the bottle was in his hands, and he drank as much as his body would let him.
By the time he’d taken more than he could, pulling the bottle away with force, his vision had gone so hazy that he swore he wouldn’t move from the couch. But his instincts had other plans, forcing him out of his seat and roaming the room, pacing around with desperation. Despite the dull thud that made his head ache, he still needed more, craved more to muddle the thoughts that overcame him. Rushing about the room with the whiskey still in hand, he’d soon find his answer hidden deep within one of almost untouched drawers they had full of medicine, just by the bedroom door on the lowest row. Dropping onto his knees, he felt his headache only grow worse, but he merely shook it off as memories of the past jumbled together with the pain.
Infelix put his bottle down onto the ground before pulling the drawer open. He pushed aside any medicine he knew wouldn’t help, instead reaching for the small, bright yellow bottles near the back. All were still full to the brim, but with labels that had faded enough to be left unread. He didn’t remember what any of them did or even who they belonged to, but he didn’t care.
With hurried hands, he screwed the lid off of one, gulping at the sight of pills right in front of him. As far as he was concerned, this was what could help him forget, maybe take him out if luck was on his side, and he tilted his head back as he dropped them all into his mouth.
Some fell onto the floor, but that was the least of his concerns. With a mouthful of pills, he forced them down with whiskey that he drank down with desperation. After placing the bottle down, eyes staring at the other medicine that sat before him, he reached for another. He repeated what he’d done, over and over, too many times to count, but soon found out he was out of alcohol. Clambering up to get more, he stopped himself dead in his tracks, a memory slipping through the cracks.
Deadramel, still a wasteland, no one else but one in sight.
The King’s voice.
“No, no, that’s not right.”
Infelix nodded slowly, though still seemed confused by the magic he was supposed to mimic. When they found themselves in areas too dark to see, he would always rely on the King to lead the way, bringing about light as bright as stars that peeked through the night. But the King told him that it couldn’t continue this way forever, and Infelix would have to learn the skills that he had honed. Although surprised at first, Infelix accepted but wasn’t too sure how well this ordeal would pan out.
“Is it not?” Infelix asked, a limb extended from his shapeless form.
“No. Why don’t you follow after me, hm?” The King outstretched a limb as well. For a moment, there seemed to be no sign of struggle at all, the faint aura of magic swirling around him, soon manifesting as a ball that glowed in his palm. “Don’t push yourself too hard, and it will come, I promise you.”
Infelix, still in shock at how effortlessly the King created light, wondered if he could ever reach such a sheer amount of skill. Now flustered as he felt the need to push himself, he strained his mind to create something in his hands, feeling the King’s gaze on him for every second that passed. With a mixture of motivation to do as the King pleased and shame at the lack of prowess he had at magic, a semblance of results would soon yield.
At first, what had appeared were simple sparks, though even the small display had the King let out a gasp. The reaction had Infelix wanting to push for more, but his next few attempts only gave the same results each time. Though Infelix was on the verge of giving up, the King stood beside him, seeming unbothered by the failed attempts. Instead, the King repeated as he had done before, and all Infelix could do was watch in awe, then caught off guard as he felt a sensation tingling in his palm. Looking ahead towards his palm, his concentration suddenly increased tenfold, and it seemed all magic he had transferred right into his hand. Before his mind could even process what was happening, the same ball of light the King had suddenly manifested before him.
To say shock and awe ran through Infelix’s body was an understatement. He brought the orb closer towards his face, squinting down at its brightness, in disbelief that he could create such a thing. Yet any confusion would cease as the King suddenly drew near, beaming at Infelix, seeming prouder than ever. The sight of this had Infelix feeling lighter than air, much more pleased by his abilities in a matter of moments.
“It’s not that hard, is it?” the King asked, tone joking. “I’m proud of you, Infelix. You truly do have the potential to harness great magic.”
The statement had the already elated Infelix feel joy that overtook his whole thoughts, his entire body. To be praised by the man that cared for him was divine, an experience incomparable, and he doubted even the grandest occurrences that could happen in his life would compare to this small moment he shared with the King.
And nothing ever did.
Despite all the alcohol that filled his stomach, pills floating amongst the liquid within, the memory was as clear as day. It was as if it had occurred all over again, and the thought made Infelix pause, staring down at the ground as he couldn’t quite process it no matter how he tried. Why then? Why now? For him, it all didn’t make sense, and the dull throb in his head only grew worse.
Subsequently, tears dripped onto the ground, and it took a moment before Infelix could realize what was happening. A heaviness settled itself into his chest without warning, a light tremble over his body following, and tears continued to slip past him even if he wanted to stop them. Crying. Why was he crying? In all that had occurred in his life, tears never fell, only dread filling him in the worst of times. Perhaps his humanness was catching up with him, and he couldn’t help but groan in frustration as he let emotion overwhelm him.
The past would never return, his greatness only existing as fragments in his mind. No, all he had now were Dorcha and Mire, the pair only serving as a reminder of the mistakes he made in the past, a pair he had to take care of no matter what. But by then, Infelix didn’t even know if he could continue being the pair's carer. In a sense, he wanted to do all he could for them, but it was as if his body had given up.
Infelix was at a loss for what to do, all he had consumed unable to hinder such extreme emotion. It was as if hundreds of years of exhaustion finally manifested into his human vessel, and he felt utterly useless. Unlike before, the conditions of his life were against him. By then, he couldn’t name a single good thing that had happened in years. He was nothing. A failure—
He needed another drink.
And another.
More pills.
Before he knew it, Infelix passed out, slumped against the wall as he dropped a bottle of whiskey in his hands, knocking over other bottles he’d had strewn across the floor.
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fic: barefoot in the kitchen
written for the 2021 chayenzo community fanfic challenge by @the-chayenzo-community !!!
dialogue prompt:
“close your eyes, and hold out your hands.”
read on aoc: here
“Are you listening to me?” Cha-young asked, her voice loud, and cutting him out of his reverie. They were sitting at the bar of some upscale restaurant, and the long day was beginning to catch up with him. He looked up at her, bewildered.
“Sorry, Ms. Hong. I must have…” he trailed off awkwardly, because she was pressing the back of her hand to his forehead, frowning in apparent concern. “What are you doing?”
“Just checking.” She raised her eyebrows comically. “If the great Mr. Mafia lawyer-”
“Stop calling me that-”
“-is not paying attention at all times, then something is surely wrong with him!” she finished victoriously, and when he said nothing, grinned at him, wide and beaming. Her face was slightly flushed, and her smile was nearly blinding in its intensity, and it had the combined effect of making him want to-
He shook his head, inwardly cursing at himself. “I’m fine. I was just thinking about next week. We need to figure out what we’re doing about the illegal stock acquisitions.”
She nodded, and turned serious. It was admirable how she could do that, how she could push her drink away and take out her phone to write down their plans.
And if he moved a little closer to her, and let his hand rest a little longer than usual on her shoulder, well, that was nobody’s business.
-----
The next day, he barely saw her. When he arrived at the firm in the morning, three cups of coffee in hand, she was pulling on her coat. She took her coffee from him, smiled in thanks, and breezed out the door, leaving him staring after her.
“I think she said she had some errands to run,” Mr. Nam said, pointedly ignorant as always, taking his cup from him. Vincenzo nodded, and set his briefcase down. He opened his computer, set down his cappuccino, and soon was lost in the case files that he had uploaded the previous day. Mr. Nam periodically asked him for some document from the shelves, but for the most part, they worked in silence. When the quiet got too much, he put in his earphones to listen to Guilio Cesare, one of his favorite operas and one that he had frequently gone to watch in Milan, when he had some free time. When he had tried to show it to Cha-young, she had fallen asleep on his couch, and he had had to put her feet up on the cushions and cover her with a blanket for the night.
Around noon, there was a memorable incident involving the monks, a runaway cat, and a feline fur allergy, which left poor Monk Chaesin covered in hives (before Ms. Jang stabbed him with an epipen), but other than that, the day passed by relatively uneventfully.
She didn’t come back to the firm at all, which was highly unusual for her. He had grown used to hearing her move around the room, talking either to them or on the phone about anything and everything, and felt the silence most keenly, especially when Mr. Nam took out his own lunch, leaving Vincenzo to wander on his own to the snack bar for something to eat. Usually he would have gone out with Cha-young, and he couldn’t stop wondering where she was.
When he casually asked Mr. Nam if he knew, the older man had just fixed him with a knowing stare, and Vincenzo had hurriedly ducked out of the room, willing the blush on his face to disappear.
As it got dark, however, he was beginning to get worried. What if Jang Han-seok had decided that his lingering fondness for his sunbae didn’t matter anymore, and was having her kidnapped? He didn’t doubt that she could take care of herself (“Seven degrees in martial arts, Mr. Cassano. I’m practically a member of the mafia already”), but it wasn’t like her to go off the grid like this.
Then he scowled at himself. Remember, you get the gold, ruin Babel, and leave. There’s a beach house in Malta waiting for you. Nothing else.
But sometimes, he saw Mr. Nam lighting up with an idea, saw Mr. Lee trying to mimic the clicking of his lighter, saw his mother’s eyes soften when he walked in, saw Cha-young (when had he stopped thinking of her as Ms. Hong?) snort with laughter as he broke out sweating after eating too-spicy noodles, and wondered if it couldn’t be something more. Would he be content to live alone in Malta all his life? Or had he grown accustomed to the people and the life around him, to the point where he couldn’t imagine living any way else? To the point where he was beginning to think of the one-bedroom Geumga Plaza apartment with its tacky ceiling stars, as home?
Could he imagine living without her?
It was a question that had crossed his mind too many times to count, and each time he had banished the thought, because that led to a dangerous road, and he didn’t need all the feelings associated with it. He needed to stay focused, and think about his next moves, and how to outsmart his enemies.
But his mind kept going back to her.
He shook his head at himself as he turned his key in the lock of his apartment door. He got ready for the night, taking off his jacket, making a serving of ramyeon for dinner, and turning the TV on to play music from the classical channel. From the sounds of it, it was some Vivaldi concerto, hallmarked by its minor key and fast paced violin solo.
He was pouring himself a glass of wine when there was a knock at the door. He frowned, and set the bottle down. Flexing his fingers, he went to the door, and opened it.
Cha-young stood there, looking unbothered, holding an enormous box like it was nothing. She pushed past him into the apartment and set the box down on the counter.
As she flopped unceremoniously onto his couch, and picked up his wineglass by the stem, he suddenly felt a hot flush of something. He inhaled shakily, and realized what it was.
He had been going out of his mind worrying about her. She hadn’t picked up any of his calls, and had been incognito all day, and now she was acting like nothing had happened? He exhaled sharply, and she looked up, sipping from his glass, her eyebrows high on her forehead.
“Where have you been?”
“I was shopping. Why, does it matter? Am I not allowed to take a day off?” She stood up, crossing her arms. She stepped forward until she was in his space, and he backed up until his hip hit the kitchen counter.
“No, it’s not that, I just didn’t know where-”
“Why does that matter?”
And isn’t that the crux of it. Why does it matter to him? If she was nothing but his work partner, then he would have no problem with her leaving in the morning to run errands, and not return to work. He might rib her about it the next day, but he wouldn’t have worried this much, wouldn’t have thought up all sorts of horrible scenarios in his head, all of which involved him finding her, broken and dead.
He cannot think, not with her so close to him, so close that he can smell the wine on her breath that she had just drank, just drank from his glass, her eyes seeming to stare into his soul. He gripped the counter for strength. She tracked the movement with her eyes, and stared back at him.
“I was worried, all right? I didn’t know where you were and I was worried.” There. He’s said it. He ran his hands through his hair, and she stared at him for a long moment, seeming to come to a realization within herself. Then, she stepped back, and moved to get the enormous box from where she had placed it on the counter.
He stared at her.
“What is this?”
She rolled her eyes. “Just close your eyes and hold out your hands. You’ll see.” She pursed her lips when he did nothing, so he straightened up and closed his eyes, holding his hands palm up and feeling very stupid. He could hear her moving, and the sound of the box opening. She moved closer, and he got a whiff of her perfume. When he had first started working with her, he had hated it, because it had been some American brand. They had had a long debate where he had taken her to a perfume store and tried to get her to appreciate one of the many luxury European brands, but she had been steadfast in her defence of Tom Ford, and that had been that. He had grown to associate that scent with her, and the other day, had caught a whiff of it at the bank and had looked around like a fool, for her.
Now, it was all he could make out, because she was standing out of reach from him, still doing something with the box. He felt like he had that day he had lost the bet about the bungeoppang, when he had waited, eyes closed, utterly at her mercy, for her to flick him on the head. He felt warm, like the temperature had suddenly increased by several degrees.
She moved closer to him, finally, and placed something flat in his arms.
“You can open your eyes now.”
He did, and looked down, baffled. She had gotten him a record player. On top of it were several records of-
“Opera?” he asked, looking up at her. She smirked, looking smug.
“Yes. I got your playlist from Mr. Nam, and bought the records for them, as well as a few that I thought you would like as well. I did so much research for this, you have no idea. It was so boring, so you should be grateful.” He stared at her in shock.
She had gone out and bought a record player, so he could listen to his favorite genre of music the way that God had intended: via vinyl record. It was nearly identical to the one that he had had back in his apartment in Milan. How did she know? She was smiling at him, waiting for his reaction, and her eyes were on him like he was something marvelous, luminous, and he swallowed a lump in his throat.
Suddenly, in that moment, he realized that it really didn’t matter if he had his beach house in Malta or not. It didn’t matter if he had to fight Babel forever, because he would do it, he would do it all, as long as she was there right beside him. He could take on a god and he would win, because he would be able to look to his side and see her stare the god down with steel in her veins.
And before he knew it, he was moving. He set the record player down on the counter, carefully, and surged forward. Her eyes widened slightly, and he cupped his hand around her neck and drew her to him, his lips finding hers. For a second, she was frozen, but she sighed into his mouth and responded, her one arm snaking around his back and the other hand threading through his hair. It felt like every place that she touched him was on fire, and he was floating through the superheated air.
It could have been minutes, or years, or seconds before she pulled back, and smiled brightly at him.
She leaned in to kiss him again on the mouth, and said, against his lips,
“You have no idea how long I have been waiting to do that, Mr. Mafia.” He goggled at her, too shocked at her and himself to complain, and she smiled again, the quirk of her lips teasing.
“Your ramyeon is burning.”
He cursed, moving quickly to the stove, trying desperately to salvage the ruined noodles. She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his body from behind, and laughed, her chin on his shoulders, and it was the most intoxicating sound he’d ever heard. Her perfume drowned out the burned smell of the ramyeon, her hair tickled his jaw, and he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face.
A warm feeling that had nothing to do with the weather spread through him, and it felt like coming home.
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