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aliveinacoffin · 10 months

Note

request for maybe an all might fic of him neglecting (not paying any attention) to his daughter. And she’s depressed in the inside (but even more after sir night eyes death) but outside she is “happy and cheerful”. But then she just gives up on her looks and behaviour and then someone notices and tells him and then he finally acknowledges her and when he asks what’s wrong she finally snaps at him. (Sorry if this is long)

That's okay! Are you the person who requested the same for the aizawa fic? Your ideas are so good but so sad 🥲 I hope you're not going through a tough time :( also, I was unsure if you wanted it to be in readers pov, but it was already too late when I started, oops T_T

Important To You

Being the daughter of such an important man was already hard, but after he gets deathly ill and the death of his best advisor? Forget about it!

TW: Neglect, parental abuse, depressive episode, mentioned eating problems, bullying, death,

Being the illegitimate and unwanted daughter of Toshinori Yagi wasn't all too bad. He was often times caring and meek, not really knowing how to be a dad to the daughter he never wanted.

But being the daughter of All Might? It was the worst thing in the world.

It made you feel guilty to feel that way. You knew his job was important, he had saved hundreds of lives every day for fucks sake! But he used to always be All Might. He had never been Toshinori, ever.

He used to never be home, always at his agency or out working. He used to just wire you money to let you fend for yourself if he remembered. Sir Night Eye, or as you knew him, Uncle Mirai, has been there from the beginning to make sure you were fed and made sure you were alive and safe every day. Ever since you were little, he would send someone from his agency to pick you up from school or from home to take you to his office.

Ever since your father's accident, his fight with All For One that left him chronically hurt, he had been spending more time at home. But it was all for naught since he just spent time locked away in his room or trying some new healing technique to try and get him back to his prime. He was still just as distant as always, but instead of the distance that separated you, it was the emotional availability.

Currently, you were sitting in your uncle-not-uncle's office doing school work while he typed away at his computer. Apparently, he was working with the Hero Commission for some secret project. Whatever it was, you knew it was serious business. Usually, he'd spill the beans to you, hoping that Hero business would rub off on you to give you more smarts or something like that. But you had never been usually interested in stuff like that, so most of the time, it was a lost cause.

But this time you were extremely interested, but he just wouldn't tell you.

"Please? Why won't you tell me? You know I won't tell anybody else, not like I could anyway." You muttered pitifully, scooting your school desk over to him. It was one he got for you when you were small, and he just continuously upgraded it as you got older. Faded drawings could still be seen, the main one still as bright as ever.

It was a stick figure of you and Mirai holding hands in an office, while All Might was a small figure in the clouds.

Spread out on your desk were math papers. You were a second year in a reasonably priced high school. What? Did you expect the quirkless daughter of the technically quirkless number one hero to go to hero school? Or even a prestigious high school? Hah, in your dreams.

"Because I can't. This is a very important mission. Hopefully, it will be over soon." Mirai said, his stiff form diligently working.

You sighed, hitting your head on your desk. Looking at your homework made your head spin, so you packed it up and pushed your desk to the back of his office. You grabbed the chair from the desk behind him and pulled up to sit next to him.

He immediately glared at you and exited all his open tabs. He called out to you, scolding you. You groaned and got up to face the back of his computer.

Mirai sighed and shook his head, mumbling a thank you as he reopened his work.

You took out your phone to play around on it, and you could feel his harsh gaze on you. You looked up, and half expected that he would tell you to 'smile more' or 'try to be more funny', but that's not what he said at all.

"What have you eaten today?" His voice was stern, almost cold in the way he said it.

You've always been in the middle of the weight class, with nearly childish features you inherited from your father. But you have never been the weight you could've been, always just falling short. Like always.

"Food, I ate today." You mumbled, looking away. Lying wasn't that hard for you. You lied all the time. Yes, I'm fine! Oh, don't worry about me, I'm just not hungry. Yes, my life is great! But when it came to your uncle? There was always a guilt there, like you were committing egregious sins when you lied about your homework or how home was like. The pain and squirming guilt outmatched the grumbling of your empty stomach.

"I asked what you ate today. You need to take better care of your body, you're a growing teenager, you must eat the proper meals to grow." Mirai scolded you, quickly opening an email to send some intern to get you food.

"It just slipped my mind." You shrugged, looking down like a pouting child.

"Then set reminders." He countered, not caring about your sour mood.

Sometime later, Mirio's shining face came in with a hearty meal and a large bottle of water.

___________________________________________

The mood was off, and everyone could tell, and you were no fool to it.

"Why's everyone so tense?" You asked, flinging your backpack at the entryway. Dragging a nearby chair to sit in front of Mirai's desk, taking your usual spot.

"Do you remember the case we're working on?" Mirai asked, green hair mussed and slightly greasy.

"The one you won't tell me about? Yeah." You scooted closer to his desk, leaning over in anticipation.

Today had been shit. There had been a presentation in class about your family history. Of course, you tried to get info from your father, but that ended up being pointless.

"Dad?" Your voice was small, and the knock you landed on your father's bedroom door was smaller.

There was rustling, on the other end. "Yes, hun?" He called out to you, somewhere in the depths of his room. Not bothering to even face you to talk to you.

"I uhm-I have an assignment for class, and I need your help." You said, suddenly feeling embarrassed. You held the paper in your hands, the edges crinkling slightly as your nerves got the best of you.

"Oh? Why don't you ask Mirai, I'm sure he's much better equipped for your school assignments." You could hear the sound of papers hitting a desk, and a feeling of sadness filled you. They were probably lesson plans for that one student at U.A., the one he had been training the past couple of months. He was giving that one random kid more attention than you had gotten from him your whole life.

"Because for this one, I need to ask about my family history. It's about gathering information about my parents and grandparents and so on, it's to show our research skills. It's a summative grade." You explained. A large part of you was in denial, there was no way he'd say no, right?

"W-well-" Suddenly, his thin form peeked out the door, a kind smile on his face. "I'm really busy at the moment, how about later we can go through the closet and try to find some old pictures, huh?" Your father reassured.

"O-oh, okay!" You nodded fervently, trying to hide your disappointment. You went into the apartment living room, and sat down on your couch, pulling out the expectations and requirements for the assignment.

Later never came.

You did the same next day, asking him to help you, and each day was the same. Tomorrow alright? Oh later, is that okay? Each and every time, later never came. Timidly, you asked him why he kept pushing you off, trying to stress just how important this assignment was to your grade.

"Oh! I'm so sorry honey, my side has just been acting up, and I have so much work to do that it must've slipped my mind. I'm so sorry, how about I make it up to you? We'll get ice cream later, how about that?" Your father promised, his two bunny ears bouncing as he bowed slightly as he apologized.

"A-alright, as long as we get my assignment done." You said, trying to sound stern. Your tears threatening to spill out.

Later. Never. Came.

When it came time to present your assignment in front of the whole class, you were humiliated beyond belief and got the worst grade out of the class.

Back to the present, Uncle Mirai sighed and looked over at you from his computer.

"Well, we're finally making a move on them tomorrow. I have been doing extensive research, and I can only strive for the best outcome." Mirai was looking down on you, but you knew he was trying to comfort you.

You had gotten wind of how serious this project was from wandering the halls of the building, seeing how solemn and serious people looked, and overhearing hushed whispers made you somewhat aware of what was happening. But not only that, the look of your uncle's appearance became more and more disheveled the more you saw him, just seeing how overworked he was.

"That's great! I'm sure this will help the agency's notoriety right?" You trusted your uncle's abilities, you knew how strong he was, how smart and capable both he and his team was. You didn't have a shadow of a doubt that he'd be fine. He had to be, after all. You had no one else but him. You didn't have friends, growing up around your uncle and absent father didn't exactly give you the best people skills. Everyone either thought you were weird, or a freak. Especially as a kid when you tried to brag that All Might was your father.

"But he is! All Might is my dad!" You exclaimed, tears filling your eyes as you stomped on the ground.

"Then how come you don't have a cool quirk like him? How come you don't have any pictures of him? How come he never picks you up from school or shows up to school?" The other kids jeered, a small group of other kindergarteners surrounding, you trapping you.

"Because he's busy! My uncle just says I'm a late bloomer!"

"More like a lame loser! Stop lying for attention." You felt a pair of hands shove you to the ground, and the group dispersed.

The rest of your childhood was the same, you gave up around middle school trying to convince people. The bullying just became too much for you. Around that same time, you stopped eating as much, and stopped caring about your appearance, what you wore, and what you did.

Your hair was long and often tangled, the ends light from all the damage done to your hair, your constant eyebags deep and dark, your unhealthy weight from either the lack of food or the lack of proper food. The only reason you even bothered to eat was to make sure you didn't upset your uncle, he was the one to make dentist appointments, hair appointments, and doctors appointments. He was the only one who ever came to important ceremonies for school, sometimes even going to parent-teacher conferences for you, he was the one to hold you after school while you cried, the one always there for you. Your uncle was the only one who even cared about you.

"The justice we will bring will be greater than the fame we will gain." He nodded, piercing yellow eyes boring into you. As if he could read your mind and not the future, he turned fully to you, giving you his full undivided attention.

"I promise it'll all work out in the end, you're a strong and capable girl. Now tell me, did Yagi ever help you with your assignment?" Mirai asked though both of you knew the answer.

You turned away from him, trying to hide the embarrassed tears that came crawling to the surface. "I failed, and now I barely have a C in that class."

He sighed and took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. He groaned and looked at you with annoyed eyes. "I should've known."

That made you giggle.

___________________________________________

"Well, we're finally making a move on them tomorrow."

Today.

After school you immediately raced home, sending a text to Centipeder or Moashi, that you wouldn't need a ride to the office. There was no point anyway, your uncle wasn't there to keep you company.

You remember the first conversation you had with him, a funny misunderstanding that was the first development of your Kind Guardian/Kid relationship.

"I just don't understand." He said from the front of the car one day, unprompted.

"Uhm, what..do you not understand?" You piped up after a beat of silence, confused.

"well, for Sir Nighteye to even acknowledge someone, they must make him at least smile. But I haven't heard you tell even a pun to him, and yet he is very open with you. I am...also confused about the nature of your relationship." Moashi confessed, eyes constantly going back and forth between you and the road.

"O-oh, I'm his niece. And I'm...not very funny, I'm too awkward to try and tell him a joke every day." Your voice was weak and trailed off, embarrassment filling you. But you had told the truth, you struggled to even ask to go to the bathroom, let alone try the daunting task of trying to tell a joke. He hadn't made you do it when you were too young to tie your shoes, why suddenly start now?

"ah, I apologize for my unprofessionalism." He asked, embarrassed himself too.

Since then, you felt a little bit more comfortable around him, even if most days you sat in the back looking out the window.

Still, none of that mattered when you turned on the TV, feeling like a little get as you sat right in front of the screen.

"Oh sweetie, please don't sit so close to the screen, it's bad for your eyes." You could hear your father's voice behind you.

You didn't even bother to pull your attention from the screen when you spoke to him, "You know that's actually not true. Plus, Uncle Mirai has his raid today, and I need to know the result." You quickly surfed through channels, and you jumped when you found the one you needed. A helicopter was circling above an inconspicuous-looking house, absolutely swarmed with heroes.

"That's today? I hope young Midoriya will be okay." Toshinori mumbled, and it made you glare at your TV screen without realizing it. Your emotions were on the fritz, you hadn't eaten since yesterday, hadn't slept, hell you hadn't even drunk water. Too nervous to do anything other than go through the motions of life. Your head hurts, your eyes stung, and you felt like absolute shit, but you needed to know.

You heard your father sit down behind you, but you didn't move an inch to give him a better view.

Then, it began.

___________________________________________

They won.

The heroes won, and they arrested all members of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza. But there were heroes so gravely injured that they needed to be life-lined out, and when they zoomed in on the victims' faces, listing off their names, both you and your estranged father ran to the car to race to the hospital.

Normally, your father was a strict follower of the rules, especially when it came to the laws of the road. But at this moment, the speed limit just didn't exist.

Hell, you guys were pushing a hundred while on your way to the hospital, the ride deathly silent. You were too terrified to speak, and your father remained unreadable to you.

The ride to the hospital was the most unbearable experience of your life.

___________________________________________

You ran ahead of your father, not even helping him get out of the car as you burst into the hospital. Hurridly, you ran up to the receptionist, speedily saying your name and asking for Mirai Sasaki. She pointed you to his secluded room, and you didn't even bother to thank her as you took off at top speed.

It felt like your world was crashing down, your breath coming in short, and panicked. You could barely breathe, barely think, the only thing you could do was run.

Your lungs burned when his room came into sight, a scream was worming its way from your throat, your heart and chest burned absolutely alit with fear.

Some part of your mind registered a green-haired boy and a blonde boy in the room, but it didn't matter as you slammed the door open.

A sob forced its way out your mouth when you opened the door, your eyes clouding with tears when you drank in the sight of your uncle. "Mirai!" That scream tore its way out of you in a voice you couldn't recognize as yourself.

You rushed over to his side, grasping onto the sidebars as if your life depended on it like it was the only thing keeping you here on earth.

The display of his health horrified you. His usually cunning eyes were dull and glazed over. His naked body was filled to the brim with tubes, filling the hole in the middle of his abdomen. His body was weak, the blue veins visible under his thin flesh, covered in sweat as he weakly breathed, his lungs wheezing with the strenuous task of pumping hair into his body. He looked over to you slowly, a small smile tugging across his face as if the mere act of making a minuscule smile drained what little life force he had left. His usually neat hair was mussed up, a sight people rarely saw because his appearance was the second most important thing to him.

He reached a shaking hand to you and placed it gently on yours. It was such a stark difference, the feeling of his cold and weak hand gently resting on your hand, still clenching as hard as you could next to him. Tears were freefalling now, hitting his pale arm and sliding down it. His hand trembled on top of yours, and you hurridly grasped it with both of yours to ease the shaking.

"U-uncle-y-you-" You tried to speak, but snot and tears made it difficult to speak. Your throat was tight, the feeling of thorns and barbed wire made it near impossible to even breathe.

He called out to you, voice soft and small, shushing you in an instant. "Breathe, you must calm down. You're having a panic attack." Mirai's words were shaky, and he tried his best to reassure you, even at a time like this.

"But you're-you're-" You couldn't even finish your sentence, couldn't even think of the word coming to your mind.

Dying.

He was dying.

Your uncle, the man who raised you, the man who made sure you ate every day, who made sure you had clothes, who taught you to tie your shoes, brushed your hair, and had held you on your best and worst days, Mirai Sasaki was dying.

And there was nothing to stop it.

When your father had almost died in his fight with All For One, you had been upset, sure. But Mirai had reassured you that he'd live, he even used his quirk to ease your worries, so you hadn't been as worried. Sure, it was still a deeply traumatizing event and was a hard time for you and your father. But you had Mirai, you always had Mirai.

And now he was leaving you, he was leaving you behind. The man who had replaced your father your whole life was abandoning you, and there was no way to stop it.

"Please, please don't leave me." You cried, finally managing to say words to him.

Mirai's face never faltered from his gentle smile, and his eyes crinkle slightly. "My child, please don't cry. Please don't forget your smile." He looked up at the ceiling and rested his hands on his wheezing chest. Your uncle's body completely relaxed, but he still had a smile on his face.

"When you were born, your father...did not want to keep you. Toshinori wanted to leave you at an orphanage, but I refused. I wanted you, I wanted you so badly I promised to take care of you. So I did. For the first couple of years of your life, I took complete care of you." He wheezed. "But he realized just how precious you were, so he took you back." Mirai mustered up the strength to look at you again, and it was obvious that the smile on his face was fake. "I've regretted that day every day. I should've kept you and raised you on my own. So I made sure to the best of my abilities that you were okay. But, I failed." Now, tears were falling from his eyes.

"Nno, no you didn't-" You started, voice full of panic, but he shushed you.

"Let me finish." He took a deep breath in and continued. "Every day I knew I should've kept you, it pained me to see you in such miserable conditions. Before I realized it, I had grown contempt for Toshinori. I hated seeing you in such a state, but I never wanted you to hate your father, so I just tried to help you in any way I could, and kept my anger to myself. I don't know when, but you had morphed into my own daughter over time. Maybe you always were, I'm unsure. Still, I want you to know one thing. I love you, and I always have. Please, promise me you'll live your life with a smile on your face and a kind heart, don't forget who you are." You gasped, trying to get as much air through the tears and agony.

"I promise, I swear on my life I'll honor your legacy the best I can." At this point, you were practically in the hospital bed with him, hunched over and clawing at his shoulders and hands.

"Remember to take care of yourself, live for me, and grow older than I'll ever be." Mirai shakily reached up to grasp at your face, weakly trying to wipe away your tears.

You closed your eyes, trying to appreciate and memorize his touch. "I pinky promise, I love you so much." Your eyes flew open when his touch disappeared, and your heart broke at the sound of his heart monitor flatlining.

At that moment, when nurses rushed in and your father's weak hands tried to pry you away you felt it.

Everything after that day was a blur.

Your world stopped that day.

___________________________________________

You don't remember how you got home that day, or what you did the rest of that week. Hell, even his funeral was a blur. You didn't go to school, didn't eat, didn't sleep, you didn't even leave your room. You just didn't exist anymore, like you had died with him.

Moashi had tried to contact you, calling and texting you constantly. He wanted to go over the will. His will.

But you just couldn't bring yourself to answer him, or to check your phone, or even to look over to see it.

A week or two or however long into your depressive episode, your father came into your room. He was holding a plate of food and a glass of water, looking just as bad as you.

"I brought you food." Toshinori whispered like you were ready to break at any moment. Maybe you were, or maybe it was too late, and you were already broken, instead, he was being careful of the pieces of your heart that were scattered around.

You didn't even spare him a glance, still staring at the ceiling. "I'm not hungry." You didn't even sound like you, voice rough and damaged. Vocal cords fried from unuse.

"You must eat. You cannot keep living like this. What would Mirai-" Your father started, and you shot up out of your bed.

"Stop. Don't you fucking dare use his name. You have no right to even think of him." You growled, getting up out of your messy bed. You hadn't changed your clothes from that day, your life was slowly slipping away from you, and even doing basic tasks seemed impossible. You knew you smelt, you knew you were a disgusting mess, and you could feel the grime and filth from lack o personal hygiene and care. But you just couldn't.

Your head swam from the sudden movement, your body trying to shut down on you. You felt weak and disorientated, and the constant gnawing hunger pains ate away at you. Your teeth ached, your head and body itched, your body and mind just hurt.

"Do you have any idea how horrible it was to live with you? Oh, sorry, to live by myself? I used to get bullied for trying to tell everyone you were my dad, it got so bad that I stopped talking at one point because every day people were telling me to kill myself. I used to not eat, and did you ever notice? No! Because All Might didn't have a daughter, so he was never home. He was there for every fucking person in Japan but his daughter. There were times when I didn't come home, and you didn't even notice wasn't there. Did you even care if I ate? What I do? You let me fail an assignment because it was just too much of a bother. Who do you think took care of you when you almost died? Where were you all the times I stayed home because I was sick?" Your voice was raw, and your throat burned from the agony of yelling at him. But you didn't care, you didn't even have any tears left to cry. You had nothing left.

"Mirai was always there to kiss my wounds, he came to everything. Ever wondered if I know how to play instruments? What my hobbies are? Mirai did! He encouraged me to pursue what I loved and came to all my plays, and performances, kept every drawing I made him, every craft I did." You fell to the floor, exhausted. You looked up to Toshinori Yagi, the stranger you've lived with for the past sixteen years. He was not your father, he never had been, your real father, the man who loved you unconditionally and wholeheartedly was dead. And he was never coming back.

"I hate you, I wished I had never been born to a man like you. You're not my father, you've never been my father. You should've died instead of him." You spoke your truth, glare downright murderous as you watched the horrified man in front of you. You felt no regret as he started to tear up, clutching his damaged side in pain.

You'd live up to your promises to your father, but you'd also never come to regret the words you uttered to the man who you shared blood with.

Just because you shared blood with someone, that did not automatically make them family.

___________________________________________

Holy shit;;;;; that was 4,538 words. Longest one-shot I ever fucking wrote. My computer is literally slowing down because I wrote this all on Tumblr lmaooo

Kinda don't like the ending, but I had so much fun writing this,,,, THANK YOU SO MUCH WHOEVER REQUESTED THIS, at first I was nervous because 'oh no how tf do I write this' but then it just started FLOWIN gyat dayum.

anyways, little notes incase you were wondering,,

Reader was abandoned by her mom after she was born, and mummy dearest managed to hand her back to toshi before she disappeared,,later she died pretty young, so, unfortunately, kiddo will never meet her. Toshi wanted to leave her because he couldn't deal with a child, but sir felt an instant connection with her and wanted her,,so he really did raise her but toshi saw how cute she was and was just like 'it wont be hard to raise a child right?' how wrong he was,,over time sir started to hate toshi, meaning his room isn't decked out in all might merch and isn't as harsh on deku and mirio when they come around,,if anything, kiddo made him much softer than he is in anime, because he knows what its like to be a dad(tm),, he never took her back because he didn't want her to hate toshi, so he just kept his anger to himself. (meaning he ain't creepy to bubble girl, thinking if anyone did that to his daughter hed fuckin kill them),,in his will, he left the agency to centipder so thats still the same, but he's under strict directions to train reader to one day take over the agency for her own, not caring that shes quirkless. Reader and all might will never make up, and when he dies, she will not feel regret nor sadness over his death, she will silently hate deku from the sidelines, and will be an endeavor fan (ick) ([okay sorry that want little but I love her-])

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skinnytuna · 11 months

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I really really like that long post you did about making art. especially: 'i have somehow convinced myself that, if i maybe try a little bit, not exceptionally hard, but only a little bit, maybe i will somehow magically be good enough and worthy of critical praise.'

I spend all my time thinking about the beautiful or ""groundbreaking"" things I would make but no time actually doing it. and then when I attempt to create something the actual discomfort of physically drawing, writing or even coding is so unlike the idealised version in my brain that I have to stop because it is so frustrating. I wish I could be the sort of person who decides to spend hours upon hours perfecting a craft. but I just cant. weirdly I've come to terms with it. theres a whole world of art that exists just for me in my head. maybe one day ill be able to translate it into reality. but for now, im just going to be happy with the dual presence of my shitty real art and my lovely art thats just for me.

(also: I dont think your posts are lacking. the way you use language is unexpected and hilarious. I like it a lot.)

we should have a word for the terminal need for validation but lack of any and all discipline ... seems like a relatively new phenomena. i'm considering the strong possibility that it's a widespread result as the death of the "hobby"... however many years ago i imagine it was normal to just do something for yourself, because you love doing it. in fact i see a lot of my friends parents still doing stuff such as this.

i have a lot of friends whose dads make eps and albums for fun. for them only. no wishing on a star for it to blow up overnight. none of that. security in the quality of it. security in how far it probably won't reach. now that security, of course, could just come with age. but i suspect there's a generational parasite.

we were all raised with Numbers. the follower count, the like count, these are burned into our psyche. a neurosis coiled tightly around an objective metric of validation. a handful of years ago such a neurosis couldn't even exist! and it especially couldn't exist in a matter of seconds or minutes. your value as a person is a pair of dice that you roll and you snatch them back the moment you see snake eyes. almost all of the amateur art, music, writing we are exposed to has a number right under it. you don't get to evaluate it yourself. there is immediately a pavlovian connection, i like this thing, this thing has this number attached to it, if i can get a number like that i'm worthy of coexisting with this thing.

there's an almost instant dissociation between the craft, the skill, the time, and the FRUIT. what you get back. we are almost trained to care more about how popular something is than how good it is. not like, hollywood productions, or Columbia Records' chart topping album by a thirty something with A&R parents, but how popular someone just like you is on the internet. a plausible professional with a twitter account who draws whatever they want. someone you could relate to. someone you could be.

but because you want the numbers you skip the learning... you make something and put it out. and you keep doing this. your learning is public, your honing of the craft is documented before an audience of hopefully thousands. and you see what they respond to. and their responses steer the direction of your learning. you never have an opportunity to make something shitty. make something no one likes. experiment. you just keep feeding the computer. and it works until the point where you want to do something else, or something real, or something better, or something serious, and realize you don't know how. and you're like Fuck Shit why did I hustle instead of learning in peace.

but of course this is all by design. the numbers can't teach themselves more numbers if you doodle in your sketchbook and don't show anyone. i'm not sure if it was ever a specific person's idea to make everyone's entire life a performance, but whoever engineered it did a damn fine job. takes a sledgehammer to break out of. oh well ! in a few generations i'm sure all of our skin will have glare dampeners evolved specifically to vlog better with. and everyone will have forgotten what it's like to do something in your room, by yourself, because you like to do it

#forgot i had a tumblr im back hello

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alewritesfics · 2 years

Text

Bonus Chapter 2

Summary: A new Bridgerton comes into the family

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Sharma Sister! Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: unedited, pregnancy, child birth, umm probably is not that good since I have obviously zero experience with pregnancy, nor do I really know how childbirth was in those times, everything is based on what i saw from videos, happy ending, most probably is cringy but oh well

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

When you found out:

It was 2 months after your wedding, Anthony and you had gotten back from your honeymoon 2 weeks ago.

One sunny afternoon. You had woken up a few hours ago and were currently taking a walk around the garden, accompanied by Edwina and one of your ladies maid.

“How was Paris?” Edwina asked curiously “Was it as beautiful as everyone says it is? Oh how I wish I could go there. I heard the parks are just as beautiful, and all the French men, c’est magnifique, imaginez tous les beaux hommes” you laughed at her

“Might I remind you, you are engaged, I am sure your intended would not appreciate you speaking about other men” You looked at her teasingly “ But to answer your question, yes, the men were very handsome. Do not tell Anthony I said that” They both laughed, shaking their heads.

“Louis will not care, he knows I am interested in him only” She looked up suddenly “Speaking off, I am still shocked he asked me to call him by his given name only 2 weeks into courting, he certainly does not like formality”

You stayed silent and stopped in your tracks when an ill feeling overcame you. You held on to your stomach when nausea hit you.

“deedee?” Edwina questioned when she saw you stopped walking “Are you alright?”

You sighed when the nausea went away “Yes, I just felt a little nauseous , it is gone now, nothing to worry about” You waved her worried look off and continued walking

“Are you sure you are alright? You rarely get sick”

“Yes, Bon, nothing to worry ab-“ You suddenly stopped yourself feeling dizzy, holding on to her arm for support “ Maybe we should head back inside, I am not feeling so well”

“I told you, it must be serious, you do not get sick easily” She gasped “ What if it is a disease?”

She spoke all the way back inside, suggesting several things that could be wrong with you. You denying each and everyone of them.

“Hey, you are back early. I would have thought you would not be back for at least 20 minutes more” Lady Violet Bridgerton mused when you entered the drawing room

“Y/n was feeling sick, perhaps we should call for the doctor, she rarely gets sick” Edwina replies

“I am fine, bon” You shook your head before you covered your mouth with your hand, running to the nearest door to go outside.

You heard your sister and Violet rushing behind you. You knelt down next to the grass and lowered your head, vomiting everything you had for breakfast.

You groaned once you were finished, wiping your mouth. Your sister rubbed your back soothingly, while Violet helped you stand up and ushered you back to the drawing room

“How long has this been happening?” Violet asked, a knowing look in her eye.

“I have been feeling sick ever since Anthony and I came back from our honeymoon. I figured it was just a bug I caught from the journey back home, it would have maybe gone away in the next days but it has been 2 weeks and I am still feeling ill” You replied sitting on a chair

“Perhaps dear, we should call the doctor”

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Edwina, Violet and your mama looked at you expectantly when the doctor retired from the room

“Well?” Lady Mary questioned

“What did he say?” Edwina added.

You grinned happily, looking up them. “I am with child”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

When Anthony found out:

“Anthony” Y/n spoke up as she entered his study.

Anthony looked up from the papers on his hands and smiled at her “Hello love”

“I need to speak to you” She played with her hands nervously

“I am all ears” He put all his attention on her “What is it?” He smiled comfortingly

“Anthony” Y/n stayed in front of the desk, looking at him seriously, Anthony’s smile faded at her serious face.

He stood up and rounded the desk to get closer to her, he grabbed her hands “Is everything okay?”

“Anthony, I am with child”

He stared at her shocked, unable to form a single sentence “You are with child?” Y/n nodded smiling happily

Anthony turned around, and covered his face. Y/n stared at him confused until she heard a sniffle coming from him, she grinned teasingly “Are you crying?”

He turned around fast “What? who is crying? It is certainly not me” he scoffed trying to play it off

“You are with child, our child. Y/n, we are going to be parents, to our very own little Bridgerton, oh my God”

“You are with child” He laughed happily and hugged her tightly, before he spun her around making her laugh. “ I love you, I love you, I love you, God I love you”

He stopped spinning her and pulled her into a kiss “ Thank you, thank you for making me the happiest man alive, I love you” He laid his forehead on top of hers, caressing her cheeks lovingly “ We are going to be parents!”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Month 2:

“Anthony, will you stop it!” Y/n exclaimed as she walked down the stairs “ Nothing is going to happen to me, your family is going to be there”

“I still think it is not safe, everyone is going to be in the park, someone could bump into you and make you fall” Anthony argued with his wife “No, I do not think you should go”

“Your family will be there, you will be there” Y/n said “ Besides, everyone knows we are expecting thanks to Lady Whistledown, the ton will be careful not to bump into me”

“The ton could not care less, maybe we should stay home, I mean, we could spend the day in bed, I could bring you your favorite fruits and maybe a book, or we could spend our time doing something more fun” Anthony suggested

“No, we are going to spend the day with your family as we planned, and that is final, now let us go, we should not let them wait for long in the park” Y/n walked out towards the carriage

“But, love-“

“It is final, Anthony, now get inside”

“Alright” Anthony grumbled as he stepped into the carriage

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Month 4: ( a few minutes after the epilogue)

“Perhaps you should not play Pall Mall”

“Anthony”

“No, listen to me, you can get tired very easily while hitting the ball, it is not good for the baby” Anthony tried to defend himself, Y/n looked at him unamused

“But it is fine to do other strenuous activities?” Y/n huffed, the rest of the siblings watched amused at the argument that was sure to start

“Give her a break, brother, she does not need you breathing down her neck with every little thing she does” Benedict said

“You shut up, when you get married and your wife is with child, we will talk” Anthony grumbled

“Love-“

“No”

“But, love it is not-“

“No”

“We should instead-“

“Anthony” Y/n groaned “Let me play peacefully, I implore you”

Anthony stayed quiet, watching unamused while Y/n hit the ball on her turn. They cheered when the ball went perfect between the wicket and walked backwards to the ball of the next person’s turn.

Y/n was walking next to Anthony, he held her hand as they walked. Y/n tripped on a hole, Anthony quickly caught her.

“See, it is not safe, what would have happened if you had fallen?” he scolded her

“But I did not fall”

“But you could have”

“But I did not”

“But you could have”

“Stop being so overprotective all the damn time, Anthony, I am fine, I did not fall”

“But what if-“

Y/n scoffed “ You know what, I am going to sit down, I am tired of hearing Anthony whining and complaining about everything” She then walked to where Lady Bridgerton was seated at “And Anthony, you are sleeping alone tonight”

“What? No, wait- Love, do not be like that, love-“ Anthony walked behind her, trying to change her mind “ Alright, you can play and I will shut up now” Y/n smiled smugly and turned back around, grabbing her mallet once again

Anthony sighed while the rest of the siblings chuckled behind them. Yeah, whatever Y/n wants, she gets and Anthony can never say no, he truly was whipped.

☆☆☆☆☆

Month 7:

It was 3 in the morning.

Y/n was in the nursery room they had prepared for their baby. She stood looking out the window, caressing her bump while she was deep in her thoughts. Anthony was still fast asleep in their bedchambers, without a single clue that his wife was not in the bed.

“Dear? What are you doing here?”

Or at least that is what she thought.

“Hey” Y/n smiled at him slightly

“What is wrong?” He approached her, hugging her from behind, his hands coming to rest on top of hers

Y/n sighed “I realized that with how busy we have been with preparing for our child, and the celebrating. I have not truly stopped and think about it all” She turned around to look after him, her bump making space between them “I am happy, truly, But I cannot help but be scared too”

“Women have died during childbirth, what if I- what if I am one of them” Y/n looked at him sadly while he stayed quiet “ What if I do not make it. my child, our child, will grow without his or her mother, I will not get to see our baby grow, nor give them my love. Anthony, I am very afraid that it will happen” Y/n started crying, Anthony pulled her into his arms, as best as he could.

“I am also very scared” Anthony admits “What will become of me if I loose you? You are the air that I breath, I cannot possibly function without you. And I cannot bare the thought of the pain you will be in when the time comes.” Y/n sniffled

“I saw what my mother went through when she was giving birth to Hyacinth, it was horrible, her screams of pain, i-“ he stopped himself “ We will just pray that everything will turn out alright”

“That is all we can do for now, pray”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Month 8:

A glass shattering breaks Anthony out of his work. He stands up rapidly and walks out of his study.

“Love?” He calls out in the halfway

“Anthony!”

Anthony breaks out into a run as soon as his wife yelled for him. He runs down the staircase, horrified on what could have happened to her terrorizing his whole body. He enters the drawing room, instantly finding his wife hunched over in pain, he rushes to her instantly.

“Call for the doctor, it is time” Y/n breathes out, pain evident on her face

“Help! Somebody come urgently!” Anthony yells out to the maids or the footmen, anyone.

The rest of the Bridgerton family had gone out to the park for a family day, Anthony and Y/n decides to stay in as she was due any day now, and they did not want to risk anything happening while in the park. Several maids and the butler came rushing into the room, taking in the scene that was their Viscountess, about to give birth to the future Viscount.

“Call the surgeon, immediately”

He carried her upstairs into the bedchambers, laying her on their bed, removing her hair that had fallen on her face while she groaned out in pain. The surgeon entered the room, followed by several maids carrying plenty of blankets and bowls with warm water.

“My lord, If you may please exit the room, you cannot be here while she gives birth” the surgeon said

Anthony stood up angry “You do not expect me to leave my wife while she is in pain” He looked at her agitated when she cried out in pain once again

“Please understand, my lord, It is not costumed for the husband to be with the wife when she has the baby. “

“Anthony, what is happening?” Violet Bridgerton appeared in the doorway, the rest of the family following behind her. Soon followed by Y/n’s own family, except Kate, she was still in India.

The Viscount stepped out to inform them of what was happening. The maids taking advantage of the fact that he had left, closed the door. He turned back to enter once more when he saw that they had closed the door, he went to open it when his mother spoke up.

“Anthony, you cannot be inside” Violet shook her head

“Mother-“ He was cut off by Y/n screams, “ I cannot stay outside while she-“ he huffed out, too worried to form a full sentence

“I know, but you should let the surgeon do what he does best and give him his space” Anthony nodded giving in and started to pace outside the corridor

Inside the room, Y/n was breathing in and out, guided by the maids as the surgeon tried to prepare her as best as he could.

“Breath in, my lady, you are doing wonderfully just breathe in” a maid urged her

Y/n shook her head “ I cannot, It hurts, I just-“ She screamed out as another painful contraction hit her, gritting her teeth tightly.

“My lady, you have to start pushing” the surgeon advices her “ Push”

Y/n breathed out harshly, pain racking in all of her body, she grabbed the bed sheets tightly, and pushed out, screaming out, her back lifted off the bed before she fell back down sobbing.

“I cannot do it, I need, I need Anthony” She sobbed shaking her head, sweat falling off her forehead

“My lady, the Viscount cannot be in here, you have to push, it will all be over when you do” Y/n shook her head

“I need him, I need my husband, get him i-“ She sobbed out when another painful contraction hit her.

Her screams of pain were heard outside. Anthony sat down on the floor, burying his head into his hands to hide his tears while he listened to his wife’s cries of pain. Scared out of his mind that something wrong could happen to her and he would not be there by her side.

“She will be fine ” His mother said soothingly, sitting down beside him “ She is a fighter”

Anthony’s shoulders shook with silent cries “ I cannot loose her, mother”

“And you will not” Violet said “Have faith”

“One last push, my lady, I can see the head, just one more push” the surgeon said

“I cannot.” She sobbed “ I feel like I am going to die”

“No you will not, my lady, just push” a maid reassured her

Y/n grabbed onto the nearest maid for support, she yelled out, putting all her strength into the push.

“Yes, that is it! Push harder ” the surgeon, Y/n gritted her teeth and pushed again one last time, her body lifting from the pain before she fell back down, tired “It is out! The baby is here”

Y/n closed her eyes, her chest heaving up and down harshly, she covered her face in relief, crying into her hands before she uncovered her face, looking at the maid who was holding the baby out to her.

“Congratulations, Viscountess Bridgerton, you have a healthy baby boy”

Y/n smiled, caressing the baby’s cheeks, her eyes observing the baby’s face lovingly.

Outside, Anthony lifted his head from his lap once he heard the yells cease, he stood up, wiping his face and walked towards the door, it opened before he could get close. The surgeon appearing in front of him.

“ It is done, Viscount Bridgerton, they are both safe” the surgeon smiled and let him pass

Anthony entered the room, both of their families following behind him. He sets his eyes on Y/n holding their new baby, he approached her, his eyes on the baby while new tears filled his eyes, Y/n smiled up at him. He sat now next to her and Y/n handed him their baby. Anthony held him carefully although he was scared that maybe he could fall from his arms.

“It is a boy” Y/n’s hoarse voice informed him “Our little Edmund” Y/n looked up at at her mother in law who smiled at them once she heard the name

“You are alright?” Anthony questioned

“I am alright” Y/n assured him, laying her head on his shoulder, looking down at little Edmund, or Eddie for short.

“You look beautiful”

“I am sweaty” Y/n chuckled

“Still beautiful” Anthony looked around the room at their family, happiness radiating on their faces, before he looked back down at Eddie “Our little Edmund”

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the12thnightproject · 1 year

Note

Happy WIP Wednesday!

Are there any idea blurbs or WIPs you'd like to share? >:3

Happy WIP Wednesday indeed! Thank you for asking... I'm always happy to share some longfic WIP. How about a little bit from a hurt/comfort chapter....

How much time had passed since that morning? It was impossible to tell. Sho had brought me some soup and insisted I take it, saying that I needed to eat. I likely would have refused anyway, but her statement was backed up by Mitsuhide’s implacable stare.

Bad decision. After I sat up to eat a few spoons of it, the liquid boiled in my stomach. "Oh hell. I'm going to-"

With a shriek she rushed for a bucket, and thrust it in front of me while Mitsuhide kept my hair out of the way and gently rubbed my back. The soup left me faster than it entered. Ugh, this was worse than any flu I’d ever had. At least with the flu, there was the knowledge that eventually, it would run its course.

When the wave finally subsided, I felt spent and exhausted. Mitsuhide held me against him while he helped me take a couple sips of cold tea, and then I lay back down, completely out of energy, and yet not able this time to go back to sleep. If I kept myself very very still, maybe everything would stop hurting.

"Thank you." I heard Sho's soft footsteps padding away, leaving me alone with Mitsuhide. "How long has it been?" Time had been blurred, I felt like I'd been both thrown into the past and at the same time futures that didn't exist.

"Since you picked a fight with a runaway cart? Three days. Some of your bruises all already fading." His fingers lightly skimmed across my cheek. "I imagine your head will feel better soon as well."

I hoped so. Concussion… that’s probably what I had, but of course there was no word for that here.

"Do you think a strong scent will make you feel sick?" Mitsuhide's voice came from further away and I heard a bit of a clanking. It sounded like a ceramic jar, maybe, but I wasn’t willing to test opening my eyes again.

"Maybe." There had been a bit of a fishy smell to the soup. But the scent of the herbal tea hadn’t been triggering.

I heard a rustle, then the side of the bed dipped. Very briefly, the scent of something minty wafted past. "What about this scent?"

"So far it seems tolerable," The scent came closer, stronger.

"And now?" I felt his breath across my ear.

"Still fine. As long as I don't move or open my eyes. Why?" The question was automatic, although I had a suspicion of what he had in mind.

"This oil may help with the pain, but if I put it on you, I don't want it to make you ill again." The scent was closer still, right under my nose, fresh and sharp, and at that moment I also realized he no longer had that scent of incense clinging to him. He must have bathed and laundered his clothing. "May I?"

"Yes." If it would stop the men with pickaxes from chipping away from my skull, it would be lovely.

Very gently, almost invisibly, one finger traced small circles at my temple, drawing a line from there to a spot behind my ear. The mint oil left a trail of coolness, soothing the angry nerve endings. The pain didn’t go away, but it subsided enough to help me relax. "That's nice."

He lightly applied more oil to the side of my neck, the top of my shoulders, and I couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"Interesting. That response makes me curious to see what would happen if we employed this oil in other situations." That teasing note was finally back in his voice. He wouldn’t tease me if he thought I was still in any serious danger, which was a relief. I mean it wasn't like I thought I was going to die either. If this head injury was going to kill me it would have done so already, right?

It was only belatedly that I realized what exactly he was teasing me about, "Great. Let me know how it turns out." Not my usual, but hey give me credit for any snark at all when I have a concussion.

"You would know long before that," At least that’s possibly what he said. I was already halfway into sleep again.

#wip wednesday #wip ask game #ten things i hate about mitsuhide #longfic #tempest in time series #ikemen sengoku fanfic #mitsuhide

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slowjamastan · 1 year

Note

What do you think of sufin and what are your squicks when reading a fic about nordics?

kissing you on the lips im going to rant so much

SuFin is my everything

theyre my bread and butter and toast and jam and all the other things on top idk powdered sugar etc. changed my LIFE that my middle school yaoibait fandom straight up got told by word of god himself that One Guy (who is normal fr this wasn't one of the ones who is always naked or sm) was madly unequivocably and eternally in love with That Other Guy. this was such a big deal for me and still is lbr

SuFin is peak they are my bella and edward this is my thenotebook. AND they are canonically not together and over the years ive seen a pattern of fans who are either familiar with actual swedish-finnish relations or doing research into them concluding over and over that finland would not seriously go for sweden, outside of AUs or jsut bending canon bc they really want them together (valid.......)

i love when fin is holding grudges or uncomfortable with the implications of seriously pursuing a relationship with his former (current, culturally?) oppressor so they try to keep it casual and Fail Severely, OR, my #1 favorite dynamic, Finland is fully a straight man who is like "soz but we can be friends bro lmao" and calls sweden homophobic slurs behind his back (but no one else is allowed to but him, obviously). (this is for my personal funnyvalue and ive rarely rareeeeely seen this. im right tho.)

other than that last thing basically i think its very good if they Are mutually in love but logistics and politics and realism and everything keeps them apart or maybe just closeted about it. but they have shared custody of the dog and the kids etc and have couple fights that are more serious than most but are the most steady and happiest couple on the planet overall. soulmates Real. i love sufin its good in every flavor really ummmmmmmmmmm except hyperukefied finland

thats a good lead in to part 2 of this question actually

Nordic Fic Squicks / please stop doing this, im gonna read it anyway, but still

th's k'nd' typ'ng st'le...... y'kn'w wh't ' m''n

denmark and sweden r always angry and trying to beat each other up... we read the same comic, right? theyre buddies now cmonnn

the dynamic that's like DenNor, SuFin, and Iceland is alone 4evr

WHEN THE DENNOR + SUFIN GROUP DYNAMIC UKEFIES NOR AND FIN UNTIL THEYRE BASICALLY UWU GORLS... stop imposing hetero dynamics on gay ships i will Kill You. at least do it to everyone equally...

somewhat related, my ideal nordic five dynamic is Everyone Is A Divorced Dad and iceland is making fun of them on TikTok. second best dynamic is SuFin real, then Den + Nor are amicably divorced and iceland is their shared custody grown child making fun of them on TikTok

^iceland would not use tiktok he is a euphoric intellectual freak

when they make just norway a girl for no reason. babe, no one even draws nyo!norway that well...you're just projecting your desire to be fought over by hot buff men onto this poor dude. stop making me see this. you fucks have been doing this for over a decade.

ignoring history in canonverse. when ur writing modern present-day anything they have all known each other for like, ever. why would they act like they've just met..??? im not asking for tons of research, just awareness of who these characters are, like, at all

please just write the puffin out. no one rly likes him i prommy

scandinavian trio being Weird and Tense around each other in modern day. i disagree SO much, these guys would be hilarious

not realizing that smack halfway between nor and ice's birthdays is (give or take a few days) denmarks constitution day... himaruya......

overreliance on stereotypes. this is a general hetalia complaint

can we talk about the human names ive been dying to complain about the human names!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! just a little bit ill keep it to a minimum

tino isnt a feasible finnish name berwald isnt a good swedish name a lot of the common popular other ones get misspelled or just sound bad, and u cant just give them christian names for their early lives im sooooo serious give them old norse names pre-baptization pleaaaassseeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

somewhere deep in my #post tag i ranted ab my old name timeline for each of them but ive changed my mind a few times since then

for finland im a Timo truther and i have been forever

sweden is such a björn but also i like when his name at least starts with ber- .... but yall r so right when u said bjorn he does deserve that

im also a norway changes his name every few years truther. i think its funny and that he would do that

denmark is a magnus, period, formerly a magni, and this is my hill to die on

iceland makes me insane i change my name hc for him every so often but i have a few first and lasties for him for make me HOUUUGH like SoS turned me on to hrafnsson as a surname which makes me go insane now. im also a changes his name frequently truther for this guy but in a more nuanced way than nor does it

ran out of things to complain about but more will hit me later im sure, thank u for coming to another aphws ted talk by andy. MWAH

#post #aph

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thebluester2022 · 2 years

Text

Genshin Impact: Red-Horned Monster [Part 2 out of ???]

Note: Just a random thing to mention but I've opened up writing requests again- I like writing for myself but it's also nice to see people get happy when their request is completed for them. So, for a little bit. Ill take a tiny hiatus from this to work on requests so feel free to send me just about anything!

Synopsis: He grew into a fine young man, a bit rambunctious and mischievous, as well as way too known to the law of Inazuma but he was kind, friendly, always willing to help others and stand up for people who couldn't stand up for themselves. You chuckled at the memories now but, once, there was a day when he wasn't such a friendly demon.

Warning(s): Angst (Itto here isn't friendly and is more akin to a "traditional" oni), Death (Killing in defense of the reader), Fluff, Suggestive Themes(?), Kinda a slow-burn type of read(?).

For a moment, Takuya wanted to laugh.

In love, with a human? He'd heard of such things happening throughout the history of Oni, red or blue. That one of their kind would betray their urges and instead turn over a new leaf to be more 'human-like'. All in an effort to be closer to whom they loved.

But...surely he wasn't witnessing that happen right now.

After all, he had disappeared for up to a week and had just come back some days ago! Now all of a sudden, his friend was claiming to be in love?

Ridiculous!

"Didn't you just come back from hunting some days ago? You found love just that quickly?"

Itto's eyes narrowed as his cheeks tinted red. When it was said aloud by another, it indeed sounded ridiculous that he had found love just that quickly but...he thought it was true, and maybe it was because he had never had a human fight back before but he felt something!

It was warm and fuzzy, that alone had to be some type of indication of love right?

"L-Look, when you say it like that, you make it sound like it's stupid!"

"It is stupid," Takuya responded bluntly.

He huffed. "This isn't some fairytale Itto, one where onis fall in love with humans and vice versa. We consume them and they fear us. It's the way it's always been."

"But it doesn't! I told you that I want to bridge the gap between humans and oni."

"And what, you think that lusting after one is going to bridge that gap? At the very least, it'll gain oni a new reputation."

"A new reputation? Anything's better than being human-eating monsters!"

The blue oni's mouth opened and closed. The man in front of him...he swore that he was knowledgeable about all the wrong things and completely oblivious to the most obvious. "N-Nevermind." He eventually said.

"But still, if you're serious about trying to be in a relationship with a human...I suppose I can help-"

"You will!?" Itto practically screeched as he got into the man's face.

Takuya sighed, gently pushing the red-horned oni away from himself a little before he dusted himself off a little. "Yes, but just promise me you won't draw too much attention to yourself..."

Since that night, your heart just refused to calm down.

You managed to escape the clutches of an oni...a creature that was stronger, taller, and faster than any average human! For a few hours after arriving home, you were convinced that it was all just a dream! But...when you looked at the bruise on your wrist, you quickly remembered it was no dream.

Which lead you to many questions such as why the oni didn't put up more of a fight.

Did he not worry about you running off and telling everyone that oni were real? That they were just like the rumors and stories had portrayed them to be aside from the fact that they had more personality than you originally thought? But, then again, that lead to a conclusion that...

Perhaps that oni knew that no one in this small village would believe you? That, if you ever dared to utter a word to anyone, they would call you crazy and think that you looked too much into mere children's stories?

As you clutched a broom close to your chest, you shook your head slowly at the thought. "Outcast in my own village? No thank you..." You whispered to yourself before you flinched at a hand suddenly finding its way to your shoulder.

"E-Eh- Oh, Grandma Oni."

She flashed you a warm smile. "You've been distracted all day dear, what's the matter?"

She had the nickname 'Grandma Oni' for a reason, she walked into the forests where no one else dared to venture with little to no issues at all...people knew her and also feared her for that fact, she was an outcast in her own right! Therefore...to confide in her about what you saw...it wouldn't be too strange, right?

"...Let's say if I did, would you listen?"

Her eyes widened as her grip tightened on your shoulder before she slowly lead you to a chair and gestured for you to sit down. "You've worked at my shop for how long now dear?" She asked as she went to the front door to close up once again for the day.

You chuckled. "Ah...it's been a while has it not?"

"Indeed it has, feels like just yesterday when you were practically begging at my feet to come and work for me!"

You blushed, out of all the memories she could recall, it had to be that one? You had only begged for a job because you were desperate at the time! No one would take you due to your clouded background or your lack of experience in doing certain jobs! Only the lady who had a clouded background similar to yourself took pity on you.

"Now-" The older woman pulled up a seat and sat in front of you. "-Tell me, what's on your mind?"

You hesitated for a moment longer before you spoke. "I...I think I saw an oni, yesterday night when I was walking home from the shop."

No gasps, yells or immediate questions about your sanity, hell, not even a single chuckle. She simply looked at you as, strangely enough, worry flashed through her eyes. "An oni?" She repeated causing you to nod your head.

"Yes."

"What did he look like?"

You hummed, recalling the night. "Tall...his skin was white and his hair was white as well but with pink at the end-" You rose your brow at the worry that continued to flash through the older woman's eyes but nonetheless continued on. "-He had red tattoos and two red horns. He kinda talked like some wannabe punk if I remember correctly...?"

"...Huh." Was all that the woman said before a quiet chuckle followed suit. "Please tell me you didn't tell anyone about this oni of yours?"

You shook your head.

"Good because you speak of my grandson."

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nonopiimagines · 2 years

Text

day 23 of @flufftober: POV outsider fire emblem: three houses f!Byleth x Manuela

Verdant Rain Moon, 1180

Hanneman was already late to his meeting with Manuela and Byleth to discuss their curriculum for the next few weeks. Lateness did not come to him naturally, but it was easier when he had help from Annette and Linhardt to misplace his belongings. He bet he still made it to the meeting before Manuela did though. And that was some small consolation.

He finally found the smaller, rougher bound book with his recent notes in it hidden underneath some scrolls and inkwells on his shelf. Shaking his head he wondered whether it was Lindhardt's forgetful and blasè perusal through his collection of tomes or Annette's frantic energy when she helped him write up more legible notes that lead him to this moment as he rushed down the hall and to the left, leading to the large but private meeting room.

"My apologies," he began as he pushed the heavy door open, but what he saw beyond the threshold made him pause. Not only was Manuela there, but she was seated so close to Byleth that they were touching shoulders. And Byleth had one hand pointing at the page in the book that lay between them, her other hand barely rested against Manuela's, their fingertips brushing each other. Both of them had smiles on their faces.

But the noise broke them apart, Byleth scooted away and ushered Hanneman to sit in the seat next to her. "Good morning! Manuela was just answering a question I had, but we're ready to talk about the curriculum if you are," she said it with a little too much ease, and a quick small grin in Manuela's direction that left Hanneman feeling like he was missing something.

He stared at them a moment longer before digressing and taking his seat next to Byleth. Manuela was being uncharacteristically quiet, and it occurred to him that maybe he interrupted a more serious conversation. Matters of the heart, perhaps? As it always was with Manuela, and Byleth was surely a better confidante than himself.

Hanneman cleared his throat, opened up his notebook and began discussing his planned changes to next week's set of assignments, knowing that Manuela and Byleth could finish their conversation later.

—

Ethereal Moon, 1180

They had only made it halfway through the ball when Hanneman noticed that Manuela was absent. He rolled his eyes and scanned the room, hoping she just went to get a drink, but knowing that she probably swept up some knight and ushered him away. Of the four chaperones, he saw Seteth hovering a few footsteps away from Flayn (as per usual), not too close to draw her ire, but close enough to fix any young man with a dangerous glare. He then moved his gaze over to Byleth who was talking to Marianne and Leonie, gesturing toward her head and the exit, as if she was saying she felt ill and was intending to leave. He watched her nod apologetically a few more times before she slipped out the door.

And Manuela was still nowhere in sight.

Hanneman huffed and set off at a brisk pace to go find her. With Byleth gone and all of the knights still out on assignment, they needed every chaperone they could get here, Manuela's love life be damned. He made a bee-line to the Goddess Tower, knowing the rumors that spread throughout the monastery every year around Establishment Day and that Manuela--a hopeless romantic--would be there with whomever she scooped up this time.

His lungs and legs burned with his quick pace, followed by an ascent up the stairs. He wanted to be back before Seteth took notice that he was the lone chaperone. Manuela was so lucky he was coming after her to keep her out of trouble. As he slowed down for the last few steps, he heard a curious voice from the top of the stairs.

"Manny." It was Byleth. "You don't have to answer now."

Manny? As in Manuela? He heard the unmistakable sniffles of Manuela in tears and he felt a wave of dread and hot rage. He was probably hearing something he shouldn't be, but if Byleth was the one to make her cry--

"And whatever you choose, I'll be here for you, no matter what." Well now he was just hopelessly confused. What kind of question would prompt Manuela to cry? And why would Byleth care so much about the answer, but not change her perception of her? Maybe Manuela was dating Jeralt? And Byleth was just protecting her father?

Now he was just speculating on something he should not be hearing, something he should not be a part of. This is how rumors start. Hanneman hastily turned and descended the stairs as quietly as he could, eager to rid himself of the guilt of eavesdropping and thinking the worst of Manuela.

When he returned to the ball, two-thirds of the students remained and Seteth seemed unperturbed as he fetched Flayn another cup of water from the refreshment table. Hanneman got himself a drink and a small dessert to try and calm his nerves, this was nothing that peach sorbet couldn't fix.

As he finished his last bites of sorbet, he saw Manuela waltz back into the room, her eyes were less red and puffy than he expected, and she actually had a smile on her face. She spoke to Ferdinand and Lorenz in her normal over-the-top manner, as if she hadn't been crying a few minutes ago. Whatever had happened in the Goddess Tower, it seemed as if it ended okay for her and Hanneman hoped that was true. As obnoxious as Manuela could be, she did deserve to be happy.

—

Guardian Moon, 1185

He could not overstate his joy in returning to the monastery after the last 5 years. It felt like something was finally changing, hopefully in their favor. As soon as he and Manuela had received word from Claude, they immediately packed up and headed back to their old home. What Claude had failed to tell them was that someone else was waiting for them when they got there.

As they walked into the entrance hall of the monastery, an achingly familiar flash of light green entered his vision followed by a shriek from Manuela beside him. She dropped the two small bags she was carrying (compared to the 5 bags he was carrying, most of which were hers) and sprinted in a way he did not think she was capable of into the arms of Byleth, alive and well.

He set down his bags as well and approached his fellow professors, happy that they were all together again, though he had endless questions for Byleth about where she went and how her crest fit into all of this. After placing a curious kiss on the top of Manuela's head, Byleth let the other woman go and wrapped her arms around Hanneman next. He did not expect to receive a hug, he wasn't a fan of physical affection by any means, but seeing Byleth after thinking her dead for so long, things like that didn't matter.

"It's good to see you," he told her as he pulled away.

"More than good," Manuela continued for him, sounding on the verge of tears again. He quickly dug around in his pocket and offered her his handkerchief which she accepted gratefully.

"It's more than good to see you too, both of you," Byleth looked between them and wrapped her arms around Manuela again as she started to sob earnestly into her shoulder.

When it looked like Manuela wasn't going to stop any time soon, he cleared his throat and announced he would take their bags to their offices. Byleth nodded and waved, her other hand carding through Manuela's hair.

As he walked away, balancing a few bags precariously in his arms, he heard Byleth mumble, "Let's go take a walk, Manny."

Followed by Manuela's soft but shaky voice, "For so long, I thought--I thought I was alone again."

Hanneman quickened his steps, feeling that he was hearing something he shouldn't again. Alone? How could Manuela feel alone? She had Dorothea, Flayn, Seteth, the opera company, himself--but come to think of it, as the war started, when they lost Byleth and Rhea, Manuela had become a dourer version of herself. She rarely spoke of any impending suitors, or her future as an unmarried woman, which were some of her favorite topics when they were all still professors. She never went out on dates as far as he knew, they mostly just kept their heads down and worked on whatever helped aide Claude and the Leicester Alliance in the war effort. She seemed the most happy and like her old self when she was singing or helping in the medical tents and offices.

He felt ashamed that he hadn't seen it for what it was then. They were all suffering but Hanneman underestimated what Byleth meant to Manuela and didn't comfort her when she needed it most. He sighed and placed Manuela's bags in the infirmary, then walked across the hall to begin unpacking his bags. As he pulled tome after tome, he vowed to do better. They all needed to be strong for each other.

—

Pegasus Moon, 1186

Well color him absolutely flabbergasted.

"You're asking me what?" He grabbed his monocle and began cleaning it furiously with his handkerchief, as if that would help him hear the request better.

Byleth laughed nervously and cleared her throat. "I said, I'm going to ask for Manuela's hand in marriage. And I would like your blessing, if you will give it."

Hanneman stopped and stared at his monocle in his hand for a long while. "Marriage," he repeated. "You're going to ask for her hand in marriage? Does she even know your intentions? That you'd like to be involved with her... romantically?"

She let out a much louder, much surer laugh. A guffaw. Not a noise he would expect from the ruler of Fodlan.

"What's the matter?" he demanded, placing his monocle back on his eye.

"Nothing," she covered her mouth while she let a few more giggles escape. "It's just that I'd hope she would know my intentions by now. I've made them very clear to her since before the war, when we were all still professors."

Hanneman felt time slow to a crawl. Before the war? Was he really that dense? But that closeness he witnessed, the kisses he assumed were platonic, something women who were close did, were more. He rubbed his forehead, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"But maybe I didn't make them clear enough since you didn't notice, and you're her best friend." If he didn't know Byleth as well as he did, he would think her blank face and delivery were serious, but he could hear the teasing in her voice and he groaned internally.

"In my defense, there were bigger things to worry about. A war, for one," he tried, shaking his head when Byleth smiled widely at him. He turned to the window instead so he could focus on getting the words out and send Byleth on her way so he could bond with his tomes in peace. "I'm honored that you and Manuela regard me so highly, and I'm honored to give you my blessing to be wed."

And it was true. They did not need his permission to get married, but the fact that Byleth was here asking him tugged at his heart strings. She walked over to stand beside him, taking in the bustling city below and the brilliant blue sky overhead. She put her hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Thank you, Hanneman," she said softly, as if she could sense the burning in the back of his throat at the pride and affection he was feeling. "It means a lot to both of us."

He nodded then took a deep breath and waved her off. "Okay, there are correspondences I must get to. I'll see you at brunch tomorrow."

"Alright, take care," she responded with a smile and left his office with a wave.

Hanneman took another few moments at the window to regain his composure, but he knew he was already doomed. If he was already at the point of tears just talking about Byleth and Manuela's wedding, then he'll definitely be bawling his eyes out at the ceremony itself.

—

Garland Moon, 1187

What he expected to be a grand ceremony was actually quiet and cozy. Byleth and Manuela were married in the ruins of the Garreg Mach cathedral. He sat next to Seteth and Flayn and he did, in fact, cry but not as much as Flayn. He dug around in his cloak for his extra handkerchief and handed it to her. When she accepted it gratefully, he watched her pass it to Seteth who was also tearing up.

When the ceremony was finished, they all retired to the gardens as the sun set. Food was still being prepared in the Garreg Mach kitchens, but he was able to snatch a few appetizers for himself before the plates were picked clean. He hadn't seen everyone since the war ended, he was able to catch up with Linhardt, Lysithea, and Annette as well as the rest of his former house and the students from other houses. They had all grown so much and he wished they didn't have to do it in the shadow of war.

As he excused himself to go grab a drink, he walked into the dining hall and passed by the door that led out to the pond and greenhouse and he heard a sharp, "Hanneman! Hanneman! Get over here!" He poked his head out of the door and saw Byleth and Manuela leaning against what was left of the stone wall next to the stairs. They had a bottle of wine between them and three glasses.

A beverage, indeed. He walked out to greet them, they looked unimaginably happy and glowing and it felt infectious. "Is this where all the wine went?"

"Haha, Hanny," Manuela replied, apparently already a few glasses in since he had never heard that nickname before. She rested her head on Byleth's shoulder who snaked an arm around her. "Come have a drink."

Hanneman grabbed the last glass and Byleth tipped the bottle toward it, when it was full they all clinked the glasses together. "To the happy couple."

"And to the friendships that got us through the darkest times," Byleth added before they all took a swig.

Hanneman smiles around the rim of his cup, feeling relieved that they could experience this all together without the fear of war on the horizon, feeling lucky to have these two amazing women in his life, and feeling so happy for them to have found each other.

#flufftober2022 #day 23 #fire emblem #fire emblem: three houses #fe:th #f!byleth x manuela

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wisedawn13 · 1 year

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(wip) Art Festival

"Ah, A-Zhan!" Lan Huan's chipper voice rang through the speaker of his phone. "Will you be returning home during your break? If so, A-Yao found out about a festival of the arts happening in Yiling all summer. A-Jue, A-Yao and I were planning to check it out."

Lan Zhan's nose crinkles in anticipation of his brother's next words.

"You should join us!"

Yep. There it is. He lets out a silent sigh. "Brother."

"Yeah, yeah. I know you'd rather not spend a lot of time around them or other people, but I think it'd be good for you A-Zhan!"

Lan Zhan seriously doubts that.

"You're minoring in art. It'll be educational."

"Brother. I minor in art history. I have no interest in contemporary art."

Lan Zhan hears his brother tut. "A-Zhan… A-Zhan… Today's art will be history one day, you know."

This time, Lan Zhan sighs audibly.

"Just think about it! We'll be going the first Saturday of break."

"Mn. I will think about it."

They say their goodbyes and hang up. Lan Zhan places his phone on his desk and takes a deep breath.

His knee jerk reaction is to not go. But his brother did make a good point. Plus his therapist has been telling him to step out of his comfort zone more; to go out into the world and maybe even socialize.

At least with this he wouldn't have to actually talk to people. He can just hover around his brother (and his 'friends') and just look around. Lan Zhan is sure his therapist would be proud of him for even that.

Yes. Fine. That decides it. He will go if only to say he went, then he can go back to his normal life and routine.

---

The first Saturday of summer break arrives and Lan Zhan has some serious regrets. He shouldn't have said yes. He shouldn't have. This is so far outside of his comfort of routine and what he knows. Maybe if he tells Lan Huan he's ill? No. Lying is forbidden. Damn. He lets out a small groan as he feels anxiety course through his body. Sitting in the chair in the room he grew up in, his leg bouncing in such a way that would draw his uncle's ire for being improper. He regrets.

He regrets.

He regrets. There's a light knock on his door before it creaks open and Lan Huan's face pokes in, a kind smile softening his features. "A-Zhan, are you ready?"

Lan Zhan takes a deep inhale before letting it out slowly and standing up. "Mn."

Lan Huan looks at him. Lan Zhan looks near him. He feels seen. He's always felt seen. Lan Zhan often wonders if he'd also have the ability to read people like Lan Huan does, but that would require looking /at/ people; it would require making eye contact. Lan Zhan shoos the thought away with a shudder every time it surfaces. Lan Zhan steels himself and quickly brushes past his brother before he can make a comment. He's already agreed to going and Lan Zhan hates to break promises and plans once they've been made.

The pair walk out of the house to find Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue leaning against a van. They greet him, he nods at them, and then they all pile in. Lan Zhan sits in the middle section on the right side. He's never known why, but if he's not driving he'll be incredibly uncomfortable unless he's seated on the right side of the vehicle. Thankfully, Lan Huan sits beside him while the other two sit in the front. He sends a small nod of thanks to his brother, who smiles in return.

Nie Mingjue drives. It's his van after all.

Secretly, Lan Zhan has always been amused by the fact that he owns a minivan. They set off and Lan Zhan quickly puts in his earbuds to listen to his own music during the hour car ride to Yilling from Gusu.

This is fine. It will be fine.

He keeps repeating those words to himself in the hopes that he'll actually start believing them. No such luck yet. The inside of the van feels like a liminal space where time means nothing and everything all at once.

After what feels like a moment and yet somehow forever, they arrive. Nie Mingjue manages to find a parking spot with only minimal yelling and they all pile out of the van. It's an overwhelming array of sights, sounds, smells, and people. Lan Zhan stifles a flinch, clenching and unclenching his fists as he breathes. Lan Huan comes around to give his right shoulder a light squeeze.

"It will be alright, A-Zhan."

He nods weakly. The four of them head out, Lan Zhan trailing slightly behind with his eyes trained to the ground a few feet ahead of him.

They wander around aimlessly for a while. Three of them excitedly taking in the sights, one of them half checked out of his body. At some point they stop at a small food vender to get tonghulu. Lan Zhan agrees to get some if only to have something for his hands to do. Shortly after his brother pulls him aside.

"There's some bands playing music nearby. The three of us are going to check it out."

"You are welcome to come, but I know you won't like the grouping of people or loud sounds, so I figured you wouldn't want to."

Lan Zhan nods at that and Lan Huan pats his arm once.

"You wander around and keep your phone on you. We'll meet up soon, okay? Call me if you need me."

"Mn," Lan Zhan responds and then watches his brother's retreating form for a moment before looking down. What is he supposed to do now?

He feels his anxiety start to spike at being alone in an unfamiliar place. But then he hears something in the cacophony of sound. A laugh. It's bright, loud, filled with unadulterated joy. It brings a calming warmth to Lan Zhan and he finds it easier to breath again.

He lifts his head, glancing around to try and find the source of the sound but he doesn't hear it anymore.

He deflates but sets off to wander alone. Lan Zhan holds his tonghulu in a tender grip as he moves through the streets. He walks for a few minutes before something catches his eye. It draws him in.

He quickly moves closer to get a better look and finally he sees what it was. A wall mural. It's unfinished, still currently being worked on, but he can see the raw beauty of it. A white and blue dragon curls up over the expanse of the wall as lotus flowers float down around it. It's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He stares. He never stares. "Oh, hey!" a voice suddenly says, spooking Lan Zhan more than he'd like to admit. "You like my mural?"

"Mn. It is very"--Lan Zhan turns towards the person who spoke and feels like he got the air punched out

of him--"beautiful." He feels his ears heat up. Lan Zhan isn't honestly sure if he'd meant to say the mural was beautiful. He doesn't remember. All he knows is that the most beautiful person he'd ever seen is standing in front of him and it's their mural.

They smile and it blinds him in the best way. "Thanks! I'm Wei Ying!" He sticks out his hand and Lan Zhan takes it, shaking it gently.

"Mn, Wei Ying. I'm Lan Zhan."

"Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. I like it!"

That makes him look up, meeting this stranger's gaze and finds he doesn't hate it. He feels comfortable.

It's a jarring revelation: realizing that you can feel comfortable making eye contact with someone when you are so averse to it. And yet he can't bring himself to care. Not when those striking grey eyes stare back at him.

It's far too long before he realizes they never let go. Lan Zhan quickly remedies that, dropping his grip on Wei Ying's hand and turning his gaze back onto the wall. He feels hot in his ears and silently prays that his hair fully blocks the blush.

Wei Ying laughs awkwardly, and he feels a similar sense of warmth wash over him. That laugh! It's different, but he knows in his soul that it was Wei Ying laughing earlier.

"SO!" Wei Ying says a little too loudly. "My mural! Tell me, Lan Zhan, what's your favourite part?"

He considers that, uncertain on what to say. "The dragon."

Wei Ying hums, stroking his chin and nodding his head in a clearly joking way. "I see. I like the dragon too." He laughs again, this time it's not awkward.

Lan Zhan vows here and now he would do anything to hear Wei Ying laugh even once more. "I'm nowhere near done yet," Wei Ying adds. "I'll be working on this bad boy all through the week and then it'll be on this wall until it fades away into oblivion from sun, wind and rain exposure." He lets out a dramatic sigh. "What a cruel world."

Lan Zhan nods solemnly, his eyes fixed on the way the dragon seems to move so fluidly all while being in stasis on a wall.

"Lan Zhan! You should come see it when it's done next Saturday!"

"Mn. I will," Lan Zhan responds without even thinking. He will come back for Wei Ying. Lan Zhan's phone rings and he quickly pulls it out to see Lan Huan sent him a text to let him know they're ready to go and will meet him at the van. He sends a response, shoving his phone back into his pocket, mourning the fact he has to leave when he'd never wanted to come. "I have to leave," he tells Wei Ying, turning to face him once more. "My brother and his friends are waiting for me."

A flash of emotion crosses Wei Ying's face, too quick for him to catch it, before he smiles. "You should come back this week if you wanna see me in action!"

Lan Zhan nods once. "Mn. Okay." He doesn't say he lives an hour away. He doesn't care. He will come back.

Wei Ying's smile brightens even more and he waves. "Bye, Lan Zhan! See ya!"

"Goodbye, Wei Ying."

It doesn't take long for him to make it back to the van. He quickly hands his untouched tonghulu to his brother and climbs into his seat. He feels an energy thrumming through him, one that's similar and yet very different from anxiety. He's excited.

-----

(to be continued)

----------

Link to thread

#wip #wangxian #threadfic #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #lan wangji #lan zhan #wei wuxian #wei ying #from twitter #wisedawn13 #fanfic #fanfiction

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nightroo · 2 years

Photo

I’m procrastinating working on the next chapter of my comic by... sketching the main characters lol

Their anatomy is kinda off bc I didn’t sketch before “lineart”. Also on Abigail I added the legs after I finished the torso completely... I do love how their faces ended up looking. They both look very serious and cool.

I also ironed out a style for flowing fabric when I drew Abe. There’s going to be a type of entity that has a lot of fabric like that, and I didn’t really know how to make it interesting up until now. From Shep’s drawing I found a way to render liquid that makes it look magical. The liquid on their hand was supposed to be water but I... don’t know how to render water in this style lmao so I winged it and it looks nice so I kept it I would also like to apologize for disappearing, both from my blog and my comic. I have a lot of things to figure out with uni (finding a good place to stay at is hell, literally all the websites are fucking broken in some way) and that stuff is time sensitive so it takes priority. I’ve been working on the next chapter and I’m at the final stages (just backgrounds left). In general I aim to post once a month, and whenever I miss a month I feel really bad, but I need to remember that I have about a million other things I do, and the style I use for the comic is pretty detailed. I don’t want to rush it. It will take years to finish, but I’m content with that. I don’t talk about it much but (and here’s a trigger warning for suicidal thoughts)

I’ve been suicidal for a very long time now. Death is both something I’m afraid of and find comfort in. I’m afraid that I will leave nothing behind me, and be forgotten. That my death won’t have an effect on anyone. I started really getting into art when my mental illnesses got worse, and when I felt like every day is the same, and it’s not worth it for me to keep going, I told myself “there is no one out there that will tell the stories in your mind. You must keep going.“ and I kept going. And I’m at a better place, with people I care about and who care back. I have more reasons to go on now, but I will always remember the story that made me keep on fighting. And I still fight, and sometimes lose, but I won’t let the fucking illness in my head win.

I uh... don’t know why I started talking about this. I think I just wanted to say it here since I use this blog as a sort of journal, a record of my process. Maybe I wanted to leave this for when I’m gone. One amazing thing about being an artist is that you leave so much behind you when you die.

To know that I leave something behind makes death less scary. For better or for worse, considering I’m still suicidal maybe I should be more afraid of death lmao

Alright enough depressing shit. Probably shouldn’t post this online for everyone to see but it’s not as if I never talked about this lol.

#Daughter Of Death #abigail #shep #original art #I'm back on my rambling bullshit #the atmosphere is very nice #and the rendering style in general #i might use it again in the comic for like gritty moments #the brush I used has nice textures for that

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gamajun · 2 years

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Apples, Blossom, Favorites, Flowers, Hobby, New, Pride, Striking

Hii💜

hi, love!💜 thank you for asking!💐

apples: favorite fruit?

cherries and plums! especially cherries, i can't get enough of them!

blossom: what's your favorite flower?

camellia, cherry blossoms and sunflowers!

favorites: what's your favorite show, movie and book?

i talked about my favorite books in depth here.

i also mentioned my all-time favorite movies are titanic and the prince of egypt. both epic and both make me feel so much. i also really love good will hunting and whisper of the heart.

as for my favorite shows....i actually don't really have one that's really standing out to me, but something that i definitely highly enjoy in every aspect is rick and morty. i love how absolutely anything is possible in that show and how they're using actual scientific theories and having fun with them.

i also adore over the garden wall. it's a charming, whimsical little show that i'll always remember. the animation style is just how i prefer it and the story is beautiful.

and i can't skip a chance to recommend love, death+robots! this show is an anthology of all kinds of stories, using all kinds of different animation styles throughout. it's experimental, a kind of thing i'll always appreciate and love!

flowers: what's the nicest thing someone has surprised you with?

okay. so, well....a little story here.

back in high school, there was a period when i got seriously ill, i had to actually stop going to school for months, almost a year.

so one afternoon, a bunch of my friends from high school came to my house and surprised me with a huge teddy bear! like, this bear is literally bigger than me, he is seriously huge! and they brought him all over from the other side of town and with a big pink ribbon over him! i was so touched and they spent the whole afternoon with me and we ended up going to the park and walking for hours, talking and laughing, it was such a touching surprise and i'll never forget it.

the teddy bear is still chilling with me in my room, he's like another member of the family! 😆

hobby: what hobbies do you have or want to get into?

well, my biggest hobby is definitely reading. i wouldn't even call it a hobby, it's like a second nature to me honestly😆 i'm always reading something, or looking for a new book, or listening to other people talk about what they've read. it's truly something that makes me the most happy in life.

my second love would definitely be writing. it goes along with reading obviously and i have been doing it since i was 13 and it just became more and more serious to me as time went on. it maybe sounds silly, but the more i know about the craft, the harder it is to write, because i set standards for me really high and they're hard to achieve. writing is always fun when you just want to practice of course, but it's actually really challenging and i'm reminded of it these days, since i'm trying to write a novel for a literary contest that's currently going on.

i also used to draw when i was in middle school and i was actually decent at it, but i stopped ever since, because it's usually taking me a lot of time. but i do remember it really helped calming me down when i was upset.

and lastly, i'm not even sure if this would count as a hobby, but i do really love researching about universe and space in my own amateur way lmao. i love reading science books about it and watching documentaries, especially about the inflation and string theory, which leads to the talk about multiverse theory, that's of course extremely likely to never be confirmed, but it's sooo fun to me.

i highly recommend this video, all three parts actually, if anyone's interested. it's honestly fun for anyone, even if you're not fascinated with space. the person behind those videos is ridiculously talented and you'll see it immediately. it's like you're watching a movie.

new: what would you do if you won the lottery?

i would open up a bookstore and fill it with all kinds of books, especially less popular and obscure ones that not many people have read or heard about. i'd also welcome some of the stray cats into a bookstore and look for people who want to adopt them. that's one of my dream jobs for sure lmao

i would invest a lot in cancer research.

and i'd probably build my home observatory, as i've already mentioned in my previous answer, it's something i'm passionate about. honestly, if i wasn't studying dramaturgy, i'd definitely go into astronomy.

pride: what is something you're proud of?

my whole experience with theater.

i'm proud of every role i had in any play, back when i was going into acting school. it's something i'll always treasure, even though i'm not into acting anymore, i'm still in theater world, but from a different perspective haha

i'm also extremely proud i had an opportunity to write my own play and direct it, even though those were my own amateur beginnings, it was an awesome experience and i learned a bunch.

and also....i'm proud for defeating my illness. i won't talk a lot about it, but of everything i mentioned that's the thing i'm most proud of.

striking: what's your favorite color?

i think i mentioned this before sometime, but i definitely prefer a combination of certain colors rather than one color specifically.

red and black are gorgeous together and sunlight golden in ocean blue is something i keep in my mind as a pretty combination.

but yeah, if it's just one color, then it's definitely pink. a classic.

okay, so this ended up being an essay huh

#uvek kad tebi odgovaram na kraju napišem čitav esej hahahahaha😂#i enjoyed it tho😉#ask games

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wujico · 3 months

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i havent texted my girlfriend today. cant bring myself to do it. im going to end things soon, so that they dont have to deal with me any longer. what am i supposed to say, when theyre two stars away from grace... and im just me.

i want to hate them, so that it'll be easier once i do what i need to do. but i love them so much, more than anyone else. theyre the only one i have in my shit city.

i hope they hate me. i hope they gossip about me and its only bad things that they tell. i hope when they think of me they only feel resentment.

i hope im the villian, when they talk about what we once were. i hope when i finally end it all, they talk shit about me to their family. we have a mutal friend group... when we break up, i hope our friends hear their part of the story only.

i hope they hate me and i hope they make everyone else hate me as well. then i'll truly be alone.. but its okay. because i deserve it.

its better than them loving me, because i cant be loved, when im i like this.

i wrote this ^^^ then decided to text them. it wasnt dry per say but just... distant. they asked me if i knew about their new animal jam oc that they've be drawing (i did, because of their pfp which changed on most platforms) but i said no, cause i just want hear them talk. i love how pretty they look when talk about their interests.

but well... apparently i was the last to know. they said, "oh i thought i told you." I care, obviously, that i wasnt the first to know (jealousy issues and all that).

Maybe it would have been nice to at least have a snipet of their work when they were drawing the multiple drawings of him.

its been like that since we started dating though; their friends get first priority. their discord group is the first to get spammed. i wonder what its like, having a group of irl friends who actually like you for you... ill never know that feeling, not since my old toxic friends.

but ive gotten used to being second, im nobodys first, its whatever. but i wanna know things, even about my girlfriend. but theyre not being forced to share things like that, its just me. its who i am. i am so unlovable, i am so unapproachable.

its definitely my fault, that we cant talk about things anymore. i want to blame it on my depression. i want to blame it on my autism and need for space. i want to blame it on my uni classes that keep me at the school from 9am to 8pm most days. i want to blame it on my insomnia.

but those are exuses for how shitty of a person i am.

thats why im breaking up with them. because i cant even be enough to hear about their interests without it feeling forced. they deserve someone more, someone better. i dont love myself, but i love them, even then i dont think thats enough.

why do i have to be like this?

i just wanna be someone's first choice. just once. but nobody will ever choose me, so ill close myself off and push myself away. slowly...

not even 🍀 realizes yet. sometimes i go distant and shut off, but we're both like that. i wonder if hes noticed that i never vent anymore, or talk about anything serious. i wonder if he analyzes my discord status as a cry for help instead of a simple song lyric. i wonder if he can read past all the fake happiness through capital letters, emojis, keyboard smashes and exclamation marks.

ive been pretending ive been getting better, but thats been far from true for a while. sh doesnt even work anymore. i only wish for death now.

🍀 left me before. three times. once, it was because i was needy. the second time, i wasnt enough for even his boyfriend- he chose his boyfriend over me. the third time was the worst, but thats a story for another day.

he always apologies and says hes sorry; i say i forgive him, because i dont want him to feel guilty. he left me for a reason, its cause im an unlovable person. and i do forgive him, how could i not? when hes the person who gives me life? getting that text message that he wanted me back was literally like a dream, but i didnt and still dont understand why he would take me back. i dont think i deserve a third chance.... who knows

i forgive him. i cant be mad at anybody anymore, i cant find it in me to care. but im still hurt by it. im scared, too. im scared im gonna wake up and he'll be gone again.

im selfish, but im scared when he mentions his friends... how pathetic right? but its them who told him to leave me all those years ago.

maybe it'll be best this time though. if it happens a fourth time, he has to believe them right? i hope they make him hate me.

but ill pretend im okay for another day.

- ji

(1 / 16 / 2024)

0 notes

randoimago · 2 years

Note

Can I request Mandalay, Camie, Nejire and Habuko with prankster S/O?

Having a Prankster S/O

FANDOM: My Hero Academia

Character(s): Camie Utsushimi, Mandalay (Shino Sosaki), Nejire Hado

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): I haven’t watched any of the OVA’s so I’m just going to do the first three characters you requested!!

Camie

Oh Camie is so in on pranking others. Just give her a time, place, and person and she is ready.

Probably the type to challenge you to see who can pull the most pranks without getting caught.

Has a sharpie on her at all times, ready to draw on someone’s face or something. Would gladly help make posters or “Kick Me” signs on people.

Okay but if you pull pranks on her then she is so ready to get you back. It’s definitely going to be an all out prank battle.

Mandalay

Shino is a bit concerned with how much you love pulling pranks. I mean they are fun and silly, but also cause some trouble. As long as no one gets hurt then she doesn’t mind, it’s just the clean up afterwards that’s a bit much.

She is a pro hero so just know that your pranks reflect on her... Nah she’s not that serious! I mean, she is a bit concerned by some newspaper articles with her S/O doing certain pranks, but she knows that you never have ill intents.

Honestly, it’s kind of cute when you start dragging Koda into your pranks as an accomplice. He really could use more interactions with others.

If you prank her then just know that you’re going to get all the Wild Wild Pussycats plotting against you. Sure they all enjoy pranking each other now and then, but at the end of the day, it really is them against you.

Nejire

Depending on the type of pranks you do then Neijiri would be happy to join in on them.

Like if they’re small, silly things then she’s so in! If someone could potentially get hurt then she tries to dissuade you from pulling those pranks.

Would gladly do things like putting hair dye in shampoo’s or drawing on faces when someone falls asleep. Those are fun and cute and easy to fix (well semi-easy)!

If you do pull pranks on Neijire then just know that she’ll find a way to get you back. She doesn’t know how (maybe no kisses for the day or smth) but she’ll get you!

#camie x reader #camie utsushimi x reader #mandalay x reader #shino sosaki x reader #nejire x reader #nejire hado x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

Text

Angel Sent From Up Above

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: Hyunjin, a new guardian angel, has fallen in love with a human. His human’s girlfriend, to be precise. Angel AU, background college AU and skater AU.

Warning: violence

Word Count: 8.3k

Pairing: fem!reader x guardian angel!Hyunjin; fem!reader x human!Jeongin

“Is she healed now?” Hyunjin asks the moment Jisung flies in. He knows Jisung is probably exhausted from keeping maladies away from you, but he needs the answer now. “Is her flu gone?”

“Yeah.” Jisung’s wings are tinged gray with ruin, but he keeps them on display for all the other guardian angels to see as he walks past them. They are proof that he has been doing his duty. They’ll return to white soon enough anyway. “Your human’s her boyfriend. Why didn’t you try to check through him? He visited a few times even though she told him not to.” Jisung sighs and shakes his head. “What an idiot. He’s going to get sick himself.”

“He hasn't visited recently, so I haven’t been able to check through him. The Archangel’s forbade me going to Earth unless it was something serious. I think he’s worried I'm spending too much time with humans.”

Jisung shakes his head. “I think he’s worried that he’s going to have to Seungmin you.”

“I'm not going to get expelled.”

Jisung shrugs, and ruin falls from his wings like ash. “You better watch out. You checked up on her too much last time she got sick, so he's probably trying to make sure you won't abandon your human. He's banished people for less. Case in point: Seungmin.”

“She's important to Jeongin, so she's important to me."

Jisung sighs. “Sometimes I think you’re more protective of her than I am.”

He says it as a joke, but Hyunjin knows it’s the truth. He cares deeply about you, maybe even more than his own human, but he will never say that last part aloud.

Hyunjin used to believe that becoming a guardian angel was the best thing that ever happened to him. All of his afterlife, he had wanted to be promoted, to be granted the pure white wings and the crown of sun rays. Regular angels had wings and halos but never white wings and golden halos; silver and silver was the “regular” combination.

Watching over a human was considered the highest honor an angel could receive, and everyone clamored to gain the attention of the Archangel. Hyunjin was not immune. He worked as a messenger for years, delivering even the most inane notes between the higher ups. He endured the attacks, verbal and sometimes physical, and kept his mouth shut. Eventually, the Archangel recognized his efforts, and before dawn broke on Earth, Hyunjin was named the new guardian angel of a baby boy, Yang Jeongin.

“You will protect him. You will guide him,” the Archangel said. “He is your responsibility now and yours alone. Do you understand?”

From Heaven, Hyunjin could only look at the wet, wrinkled face of his human. His human. “I understand.”

Then the Archangel flew off, and Hyunjin flew to Earth for the first time to meet the baby. No one noticed him as he phased through the hospital walls nor as his giant wings folded back. Only Jeongin would be able to see his guardian angel.

“Hello there, little one,” he whispered to the swaddled baby. The boy was fast asleep, and Hyunjin gently stroked his face. “I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Hyunjin, your official guardian angel. I’ll always be nearby now, and I’ll always make sure you’re safe. Sometimes you won’t be able to see me, but I’ll always be watching over you. I promise.”

Jeongin stirred awake and stared back at Hyunjin. Two sets of eyes blinked at each other, one full of curiosity and one full of tenderness.

“Go back to sleep,” Hyunjin said. He drew his hand over the baby’s face, and Jeongin’s eyes fluttered shut. “Sweet dreams, little one.”

Guardian angels talked about their humans like parents, bragging about how gifted they were and sharing complaints about what unbelievable thing they did the other day. Hyunjin mostly did the latter. Jeongin was an adventurous child, which was just a nice way of saying that he liked to play with danger. Hyunjin often had to fly in to save him or to redirect the threat somewhere else. The other angels joked that Hyunjin stayed on Earth more than Heaven sometimes. He didn’t mind though. Even with his human’s shortcomings, Hyunjin adored him. He watched from above as Jeongin said his first words, attended his first day of kindergarten, and got into his first fight.

“He’s a troublemaker,” Minho observed.

Minho was a guardian angel as well, but he tended to lurk on the outer edges of the realm as the other angels avoided him for a reason Hyunjin hadn’t figured out yet. Hyunjin liked him well enough and treated him like a mentor, sometimes a friend.

“Hey, you’re not one to talk. Your human started a black market of candy at school.”

Minho shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

Jeongin didn’t end up growing up into a troublemaker, to Hyunjin’s relief. The impulsive streak was still there, but he utilized his judgement more now. There were no car crashes or cases of alcohol poisoning, and when Jeongin asked out girls, it was with daisy bouquets and a suggestion to get lunch. Hyunjin slowly stopped making routine trips to Earth and chose to view Jeongin from the comfort of Heaven. It was there that Hyunjin noticed you.

“I think she’s upset with him,” Jisung abruptly says. “She cried after a video call with him, so if your human starts acting strangely, that’s why.”

The news makes Hyunjin stop mid-step, and he turns to his friend. “She cried? What? What did she cry about?”

“I don’t know. I was too busy trying to lower her temperature. Can you believe that she almost hit—”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I just got back! There is no ‘earlier!’ Besides, we aren't allowed to interfere in anything that isn't dangerous. Heartbreak, if this is even what this is, is temporary."

“Humans do drastic things for love.” The movies has seen while watching Jeongin have told him that much.

“Which we will attend to when it happens. You’re a new guardian; you’ll understand them better over time. Not everything is life-threatening, fragile as they are.”

Hyunjin turns away from Jisung and glances down at Earth. The clouds part, and all of the brick buildings of the university rush towards his eyes as he focuses on Jeongin. He’s asleep at his desk, his lamp still burning bright above him. How long has it been since the video call? Or perhaps he’s just tired from the events of his day. But he looks so small and vulnerable in his chair. Jeongin isn’t fragile — the amount of situations he has gotten out of covered in bruises and blood is astronomical — but he is mortal.

“But she loves him,” Hyunjin softly says, “and he loves her.”

“Exactly. Humans fight over small things all the time, and this is one of those times.” Jisung places a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder to placate him. “Trust me.”

“... I trust you.”

“Good. I need to rest, but we can catch up and see what stupid things they do after.”

The moment Jisung flies off to the rest area, Hyunjin goes against the Archangel’s orders and flies to your apartment. When he peers inside your bedroom window, he spots you sitting in bed in the dark, your phone screen illuminating your face. He phases inside and sits at your desk chair, resting his forearms at the top rail. You can’t see him, but he wishes that you could.

You mindlessly scroll through messages, sniffling every few seconds. Whether it’s from your crying or your illness, he doesn’t know. He can’t hand you a tissue or tell you comforting things or hug you like Jeongin can. When you wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, he wraps his wings around himself as well.

Suddenly you throw your phone beside you and let out a heavy sigh. “It can’t get any worse than this,” you say to yourself.

Hyunjin waits for you to say more, but you only stare at the ceiling with blank eyes. He can’t compel you to talk; only Jisung can, but he’s not here. So instead, Hyunjin knocks over the glass of water on your bed when you shift into a more comfortable position.

“Of course it can,” you sigh again and blot as much water as you can with your tissues. You pull another one out of the box with more force than necessary and furiously dab your sheets. “First I get sick, then I miss a homework deadline that I can’t make up because my professor lost his heart thirty years ago along with his hair, then my boyfriend breaks up with me for like no reason, apparently I have an exam tomorrow, and now I’ve spilled water all over my bed, so I can’t even sleep. Thank you, universe. I really needed this.”

He immediately regrets his decision.

“Worst freaking week of my life,” you mumble as you throw away the wet tissues. Hyunjin almost reaches out for your arm when you pass by, but he retracts it just in time.

When you climb back into bed, you draw your blanket up to your chin and begin murmuring numbers. They come out calm and even at first, but they become more tense as time passes. Hyunjin half-listens as he scans the contents of your desk. A laptop, a shopping bag, an open notebook with doodles on the margins, an uncapped black pen, and a pack of gum. He presses his forefinger to the point of the pen, drawing a tiny heart by touch. Then he stamps the heart among all your misshapen stars and imaginary flowers. You might just think it’s an ink smear, but he hopes you look at it and smile.

You hit three hundred and forty-seven before you begin to sound drowsy. Hyunjin stands at the foot of your bed, watching as you finally drift off in the middle of three hundred and ninety-three. Serenity settles across your features.

“I’m sorry for what I did earlier. Good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers. He pats the corner of your bed before flying off into the night.

He needs to see Jeongin.

It was hard not to notice you when you were on a collision course with Jeongin. You were going too fast, and Hyunjin’s wings couldn’t carry him to Earth in milliseconds. With horror, he watched as you sharply turned the building corner on your skateboard and just barely jumped off in time when you saw Jeongin about to make the same turn.

“You okay?” Jeongin asked as he hurried to stop your runaway board.

“I should be asking you that!” you exclaimed as you followed him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have veered that close to the wall. You’re not hurt or anything, right?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Good. I can’t risk getting sued again.” Unsure of how to respond, Jeongin nudged back your board to you. You neatly stopped it mid-roll with your foot. “Thanks, by the way. See you around.”

“Yeah, see you.”

You kicked off, but before you left the area, you turned around and gave him a wave. Jeongin waved back, albeit more shyly than you. After a moment’s hesitation, he yelled out, “Be careful!”

“I’ll try!”

Jeongin laughed and turned the corner, looking at the brick wall with more wistfulness than most people usually did. Before he entered the building, he peeked around the next corner, as if he expected you to come speeding by again. You didn’t.

After that, he noticed you more often, usually swerving around strangers as you cut through campus. Whenever he had the opportunity to say hello, he did so with a smile, and you returned it with a waggle of your fingers before disappearing into the crowd. Once, you nearly crashed into a railing. You laughed it off and gave him another wave along with a funny face. Hyunjin felt something inside him melt. Jeongin must have too since he headed to his next class with the most lovestruck expression Hyunjin had ever seen on him.

It was then that Jeongin began forming a plan.

Two weeks after the first meeting, Jeongin waited in the quad for you to show up. Just as he hoped, you came walking down the steps fifteen minutes later, skateboard tucked underneath your arm. It was supposed to seem like a coincidence, but Hyunjin had followed Jeongin as he scoured nearby skate spots, asking around about you. Yesterday, he had learned where you liked to practice tricks. He got up from his bench, hands hidden behind his back, and approached you with the same moves and confidence he had rehearsed in the bathroom mirror.

“Hey! How have you been?” he called up from the very bottom.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin groaned. Jisung, who Hyunjin had tracked down two days prior to this, also did so.

“You said he was a charmer,” Jisung complained. “Look at him. He can’t even charm dogs with a treat.”

“For your sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Just wait though. It’s going to get better.”

Jisung huffed. “It better. She deserves the best.”

Fortunately, you took it all in stride and waved hello at Jeongin. When you were finally beside him, you answered, “I’ve been good, thanks. You’re not here to sue me, right?”

“No! I was actually wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. If you have time, that is.”

“Really? But I almost killed you that one time. I mean, I’d be happy to, but it’s kind of weird after what happened.”

“I’d rather skateboard than walk, and you seem pretty good at it.”

You shifted your weight to one foot, and Hyunjin chuckled when he saw Jeongin’s eyes wander to your jutted-out hip. Jisung made a noise of disapproval.

“Okay, what is this really about?”

“Skateboarding,” Jeongin said. Then he took a step closer and held out a bundle of daisies towards you. “And lunch, if you want.”

You broke out into a grin. “I am a little hungry right now. L/N Y/N, skateboarding extraordinaire and ramen enthusiast, at your service.”

“Yang Jeongin, also a ramen enthusiast. Nice to officially meet you.”

Jeongin is still sleeping at his desk when Hyunjin arrives. He shifts and exhales when the wind from Hyunjin’s wings create a small breeze but does not wake.

“How could you break up with her?” Hyunjin says. “She’s amazing and wonderful, and you decide that you don't want to be with her? Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in your head.”

Silence.

“If I were human, I would have never done that, but…”

Jeongin shifts again, burying himself deeper into the crumpled hoodie he’s using as a pillow. The table squeaks, and a mechanical pencil rolls off the desk. Hyunjin quietly places the pencil back to its initial place and shuts off the lamp.

“Take care of yourself, and make good choices, okay? I can’t do that for you.”

Instead of flying back to Heaven, he perches on the roof of the building across from Jeongin’s. Jeongin finally wakes up and notices that his light is off. He glances at it confusedly for a few seconds, wondering if he misremembered leaving it on. In the end, he decides it’s not worth the effort and falls into his bed. He didn’t even spare you a thought, a crime in Hyunjin’s eyes.

Then he realizes he may have a bigger problem on his hands.

Jisung.

Jisung is going to be very upset when he finds out about this.

Over the weekend, you brought Jeongin to the quad to learn the basics.

“Put both feet on the board now,” you said as you walked alongside a skateboarding Jeongin. He was borrowing yours to practice, so he treated it with more reverence than a well-used board would need. Even though he was pushing with his back foot, he was going at a snail’s pace.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m going to lose my balance and fall.”

Perhaps it wasn’t reverence after all.

You shook your head. “No, you won’t. You’re not going that fast anyway. You can just step off if you really feel like you are. Give it a shot.”

To his credit, Jeongin lifted his foot a few centimeters off the ground before planting it back. “I’m going to lose control.”

While you did your best to persuade Jeongin to give it another try, Jisung gave Hyunjin a dissatisfied look. “I remember you telling me he was a daredevil. What is happening?”

He didn’t exactly know either. “He’s in front of his crush; give him a break.”

“These two better not end up dating. She deserves so much better than him.”

Hyunjin gave him a dirty look, Jisung gave him a “What? It’s true” type of a shrug.

You step in front of the board. “How about this?” you said. “You stand on the board with both feet, and I’ll pull you along so you can get used to the feeling and be less of a scaredy cat.”

“Okay.”

You took both of his hands and slowly guided him backwards. At the same time, you instructed him to put more weight on one side to change directions. Jeongin was surprisingly stable, and Hyunjin watched proudly as his human suggested that you increase your speed a little.

“See? It’s not bad?” you said. “Keeping balance isn’t that hard, right?”

“Yeah. Also,” he grinned, his meek demeanor completely gone, “we’re holding hands now.”

Your eyes widened as you glanced down at your joined hands, and you let out a delighted gasp. “You sneaky little—” Much to Jeongin’s alarm, you let go and smirked. “If you go past the bench without constantly pushing, I’ll let you hold my hand when you walk me home.”

“Kind of presumptuous of you to assume that I would offer to walk you home,” he teased, resting one foot on the floor. “Or is that what you want me to do?”

“You asked me to lunch with flowers. You were going to.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Then he kicked off, skating past the bench with ease. Still going, he looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Do you want to grab doughnuts before you head home?”

“Watch the lamp!” you yelled as you ran towards him. ��Jeongin, stop looking at me and turn around!”

The collision with the lamppost was unavoidable, so Hyunjin simply watched as Jeongin took a flying leap off your board and took a tumble on the concrete. While you fumbled for band aids — Jeongin’s knee was scraped and bloody — Jeongin patted his pockets to check that his phone had not fallen out.

“So doughnuts?” he sheepishly asked.

“Sure. I’ll buy.” You finally found one hidden in the bottom of your backpack along with an alcohol wipe. “Guess you get to hold my hand after all.”

“How are you so prepared?” he asked, nodding to the contents you had unceremoniously dumped out whilst rummaging. “You have tweezers and gauze?”

“My mom made me carry a first-aid kit with me when she found out that I skate to class. It comes in handy.” You ripped open the package. “This might hurt.”

“You can kiss it to feel better.”

You laughed and pressed the alcohol wipe to his knee. “You’re such a flirt, I love it. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, hurts a lot.”

You opted to kiss the band aid instead, causing Jeongin to pout and Jisung to sigh in relief. When you stuck it onto his skin, Jeongin made a big production of being relieved from pain, which made you laugh and shove him.

“No! She’s in love with him,” Jisung groaned. His wings drooped, and Hyunjin swore his halo actually dimmed when you kept your hands in Jeongin’s after you pulled him up. “Well, Hyunjin, looks like you and I are going to be best friends.”

Hyunjin personally saw no issue with that. Like Jeongin, he had been charmed by your antics and your easygoing nature. Protecting his human’s friends, family, or lovers wasn’t part of Hyunjin’s duty, but he felt compelled to watch over you too.

Because if he were human, he would have fallen in love with you too.

In the midst of his lamenting, Jisung flies down and sits beside him on the roof. His wings are still slightly gray, and Hyunjin strangely begins to feel self-conscious of his pure white ones.

“Didn’t the Archangel forbid you from doing frivolous things?” Jisung says in lieu of a greeting. “I saw you at her apartment earlier.”

“I just wanted to check up on her. Not that I thought you lied,” he hastily adds. “I wanted to see for myself. She’s a little… distraught.”

“She got into a fight with her boyfriend. It’s normal.” When Hyunjin doesn’t reply or even make a sound, he grows concerned. “Is it something else? She’s getting sued, isn’t she? I knew it was going to happen someday. When I find that smug richie-rich, I’m going to—”

“Jeongin broke up with her.”

“What.”

Hyunjin repeats his sentence, trying to block the view of Jeongin’s bedroom with his body. Jisung looks like he’s ready to rain judgement onto him, and while Hyunjin is rather good at his job, he’s not sure if he can hold back an enraged guardian angel. Jisung takes several deep breaths before regaining the little composure he can muster.

“I knew I hated him for a reason. I knew he didn’t deserve her,” he spits out, though the venom in his voice wavers. “Why would he even break up with her? She loved him so much.”

Hyunjin shrugs. “That’s what I want to find out.”

“When you find out, let me know. I’m going to see her now.”

Hyunjin stays on the roof until sunrise. Jeongin sleeps without any trouble, and when he wakes up, he looks fresh-faced, no guilt hanging over his head. Hyunjin feels something inside him cracking apart.

You truly don’t deserve this.

“Do you think they’re going to crash and burn?” Jisung asked as he studied you and Jeongin walking through the park, practically glued to each other’s sides. “I think they’re moving too fast. It’s only been a month.”

Hyunjin really didn’t care about that. As long as you and Jeongin were happy, he was happy. “A month is a pretty long time for them. Mortal lives are short.”

“Exactly. They should be more selective about their life choices.”

Hyunjin only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. You were pointing at the tiny carousel in the middle and tugging at Jeongin’s sleeve. You dragged him over and pushed a coin into the slot for the ride. The lights lit up and a carnival theme played while you struggled to wedge yourself between the saddle of an elephant and the roof of the carousel. Jeongin sat on the edge, beside the tiger, and chuckled at your flailing limbs.

Hyunjin suppressed his own laugh. You were something special. Just last week, the two of you had made it official and started dating. You had done it in the sweetest possible way.

You had taken him to a local skateboarding shop to help him pick out his first board. Once he had chosen one — the ‘one’ being a light blue deck patterned with multicolored doughnuts — the staff at the shop sent him to the back to try it out. Meanwhile, you made the age-old excuse of needing to use the restroom when you were actually getting the flowers you had hidden in the back.

Hyunjin had turned into a pile of fluff when you gave Jeongin the daisy bouquet and asked if he wanted to officially be your boyfriend. You were so earnest. Jeongin playfully pretended to think it over, a feat Hyunjin knew he wouldn’t have been able to do if he were in his position. There were no fireworks or confetti when Jeongin finally said yes, but the staff did clap and cheer. Jisung looked on with contempt. Hyunjin looked on with envy.

“You know,” Jisung abruptly said, snapping Hyunjin back to the present, “when her last boyfriend broke up with her, she had ice cream for dinner for a week.”

“Oh.”

“You see why I’m being wary of him now?”

Hyunjin did, but Jeongin was different. His previous relationships always ended well, and on one occasion, he remained friends with his ex. He sighed and decided that a change of topic was necessary so he wouldn’t have to potentially endure a tirade. “Did you hear about Minho’s human? The bank he worked at got robbed, and he got held at gunpoint.”

That caught the overprotective Jisung’s ear. “What? Is he okay?”

During Hyunjin’s recountment of Minho’s recountment, the carousel ride ended. You squeezed out of your spot, hitting your head on the roof, and Jeongin pulled you in for a forehead kiss. The world grew brighter when you smiled, he realized.

Hyunjin shadows Jeongin around all day, hoping to learn the reason for the breakup. Unfortunately, Jeongin doesn’t say anything. He does show some regret though, as he scrolls through past messages and old pictures. When he heads to classes, he opts to walk instead of skateboarding like usual and avoids the quad whenever possible.

In the evening, while Jeongin is chewing on his salad like a cow to cud, Hyunjin pays you a visit. He finds in the freezer section of the grocery store with three pints of ice cream in your basket. From the looks of it, you’re about to add another three to your haul. Peanut butter pretzel sounds equal parts delicious and confusing.

Hyunjin studies your expression, frowning at the same time you do. Your eyes are ringed with red, your jaw tight, and your eyebrows seem permanently furrowed. When he follows you back home, he half expects you to start crying on the way, but you hold fast and manage to open a pint of the salted caramel flavor before the tears finally come. There’s no wailing, just sniffling and the sound of you furiously wiping at your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. In the midst of it all, you find the strength to reorganize the freezer to make space for the other pints. Something about that makes Hyunjin’s heart drop.

By the time your roommate discovers you in the kitchen, the entire refrigerator has been reorganized and the ice cream finished. You sit in a dark room, your finger hovering above the ‘SEND’ button of a message to Jeongin. Hyunjin can see it if he flies above you: “Can you please just tell me why? You keep saying you did something wrong, but I don’t even know what it is. Please let me decide if it’s worth breaking up over.”

“Rough day?” she gently asks as she flips on the switch.

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe tomorrow. I just wanna process it right now,” you hollowly say. You grab your skateboard — the same black, paint-splattered one you had last year — and unlock the front door. “I’m going out for a ride, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Stay safe.”

After you leave, Jisung phases through the kitchen walls and hisses at Hyunjin, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Jeongin?”

He nearly forgot about him. Eating dinner isn’t a dangerous task anyway though. Besides, if Jeongin does get physically harmed somehow, Hyunjin will feel an echo of the pain. Hyunjin glances at the door, and Jisung shakes his head.

“I’ll take care of her. Go back to Jeongin, and make sure he’s okay. You can’t keep leaving him all the time.”

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good.”

Hyunjin reluctantly goes back to Jeongin, who is still eating his salad. His resolve from last night is clearly gone as evidenced by his melancholy expression as he scrolls through even more photos. The one of you in mid-air makes him clutch his phone.

“Let me get one of you when you’re really high up,” Jeongin suggested. He was comfortable gliding around on a skateboard now, but nowhere comfortable enough to try any tricks. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from trying to get him to learn. The “pop shove it” was your favorite, solely for the amount of height you could get.

“Okay.”

As you did over and over again for your enthusiastic boyfriend who was unfortunately not that great of a photographer, Hyunjin observed from a rooftop behind Jeongin. Sometimes you looked like you were flying. He could imagine wings protruding from your back, and if the sun hit you just right, there appeared to be a halo as well.

“I got one!” Jeongin exclaimed as he held up his device to you. “Look.”

Hyunjin couldn’t see for himself, but your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ once you took a first glance. A flustered smile made its way onto your face, and everything about you turned soft.

“This looks amazing,” you said. You sidled up to him and rested your cheek against his shoulder, turning your head towards him. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air for a few seconds as both Hyunjin and Jeongin tried to process them. This was the first time you had ever said them, and it came seemingly out of nowhere. Hyunjin recovered first.

“Say ‘I love you’ back, you moron,” Hyunjin whispered, like Jeongin would be able to hear him from this distance. “‘I love you too.’”

“I wanted to say it first,” Jeongin finally said. “Ugh, I had it all planned out too. We were supposed to get doughnuts after this, and I was going to buy you one of those heart-shaped ones.”

You kissed him on the cheek and intertwined your fingers with his. “We can still do that.”

At the doughnut shop, he said the words second, and you kissed him again, leaving a crystal of glaze on the corner of his mouth. Hyunjin licked his lips as if you had left it on him instead.

“Did you find out?” Jisung asks when Hyunjin leaves Jeongin to check up on you. You’re skating around the city, making sharp swerves and weaving in-between lampposts. Jisung is trailing behind you in the sky, but he slows when he sees Hyunjin approaching.

“No, but—”

“Then go back to him. Hyunjin,” Jisung sighs, “I know you care about her, but she’s not your human. Jeongin’s your responsibility.”

“I know but—”

“Go back. And I’m telling you this not as your friend but as your senior. You’re a guardian angel, and you need to take your responsibilities seriously. I’ll get the Archangel involved if I have to. Do you want to get Seungminned?”

The threat of the Archangel strangely doesn’t scare him anymore, however. In fact, the Archangel being involved may solve many of his current issues.

“I’ll find you again when I find out,” Hyunjin slowly says.

Jisung nods in approval before racing after you again. Hyunjin heads to Heaven, not to keep an eye over his human but to become human.

Ten months into Jeongin’s relationship with you, Hyunjin asked Minho, “Is it possible to give up your divinity?”

Minho gave Hyunjin a curious look. “Is being a guardian angel that taxing for you? You haven’t even experienced a full lifespan yet. I know, twenty year-olds are annoying, but it’s not nearly as bad as forty year-olds and their mid-life crisis.”

“I’m just curious. Or, as a last resort,” he added, hoping that Minho would stop being suspicious if he joked about it. “My human’s been making some dumb choices.”

A lie, but Minho fell for it.

“I told you he was going to be a troublemaker!” he cackled. He sympathetically patted Hyunjin’s back. “If I’m being honest, I thought about it a few times. I always get assigned to the troublemakers. Probably because the higher-ups hate me for not tolerating their BS. They’re always playing favorites. Anyway, the easiest way is to get expelled by the Archangel. It’s happened a few times before.”

“Can’t you just ask him?”

Minho smirked. “You don’t think other angels have tried that? He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. It’s supposed to be a punishment.”

“What’s the hard way then?”

“Same thing minus the Archangel getting involved: your wings getting cut off,” he matter-of-factly answered. “The halo will break once your wings are detached. It’s only been done once, by the way.”

Hyunjin absentmindedly rubbed the area where the bones of his wings met with his shoulder blades. All he needed were two clean cuts across his practically impenetrable back.

“How do you do that?”

“With the Archangel’s sword. Another angel has to cut it though; you can’t do it yourself.”

The Archangel would likely banish him to Hell for even asking about his weapon. If Hyunjin ever did manage to steal the sword away, Jisung would never agree to it. He couldn’t just ask any angel to help him.

“How do you know about all this?” Hyunjin asked.

Minho hesitated, something he rarely did. He quickly recovered, hiding his sudden apprehension with his usual devil-may-care nonchalance. “I can’t give away all of my secrets.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Friends. The word hung in the air like the sun, and Hyunjin knew that Minho would tell him because underneath all of his bluster was loneliness. Because no one liked Minho, or if they did, they still avoided him anyway.

“Yeah, we are,” Minho answered, smiling for a second before a strange expression crossed over his face, pride mixed with a touch of sadness. “Do you really think the Archangel would have expelled one of his favorite guardian angels that easily?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Seungmin. He asked me to cut his wings for him.”

“I need you to cut my wings,” are Hyunjin’s first words to Minho after not speaking to him for days.

To his credit, Minho is only speechless for a few seconds. The dove in his hand pecks at him for more headpats before he recovers. “Well, do you have the sword?”

“No, but I think I can get it. When I do though, would you do it? You’re the only one I trust.”

Minho sighs and tosses the bird out of Heaven, grimacing a bit when he hears it squawk. When he faces Hyunjin, he smiles the same smile he did when he talked about Seungmin. “It’s always me, huh? I’ll do you one better. I’ll steal the sword for you. The Archangel’s been pissing me off anyway.”

For once, Hyunjin’s thoughts are not on you but his friend. He imagined that Minho would be willing, but perhaps he’s too willing. “Are you trying to get expelled as well? We can go together.”

“No, I like being immortal. I hate all of the BS I get put through sometimes, but the Archangel can’t kick me out. He swore an oath to me a long time ago before he got promoted, and it’s pretty much unbreakable. Besides, even Heaven needs a scapegoat.”

That explains why virtually no angels interact with Minho, Hyunjin being the exception. He has never heard of the Archangel being oathsworn, though it seems likely that the Archangel wants to keep that a secret.

“How are you going to get it?” Hyunjin asks. “How did Seungmin even get it? The Archangel always has it with him.”

“Seungmin was one of his favorites,” Minho reminds him. “He had easy access to him, and the Archangel trusted him enough to let him borrow it for ‘a study.’ Don’t worry about me though. Just wait for me on Earth. Somewhere where no one goes. I’ll find you, slice off your wings, and the Archangel won’t even know what happened to you.”

“That’s not possible. He always keeps it on him.”

Minho shrugs, a gleam in his eyes. “I’ve done it before. Why do you think I’m the scapegoat?”

Seungmin. For Minho and now Hyunjin, being Seungminned didn’t mean being expelled for being frivolous anymore; it meant leaving of your own accord.

“What happened to him?” Hyunjin asked. “Why didn’t the Archangel grant his divinity back? Someone should have spotted him on Earth.”

Minho’s wry grin was back. “You think the Archangel wanted everyone to find out the golden boy of Heaven no longer wanted to be an angel? Plenty of angels already saw him roaming Earth. It was easier to let everyone think that Seungmin was banished. So when they saw him on Earth, he was just a fallen angel, nothing important.” He nudged Hyunjin’s arm, and the solemn atmosphere vanished. “A troublemaking human isn’t all that bad. Like I said, the twenties are annoying, but they’re manageable. Is he one of those partying types?”

“He goes out sometimes,” Hyunjin carefully replied. Jeongin liked hanging out with his friends and you — mostly you, now that Hyunjin thought about it — but he wasn’t getting blackout drunk every night. At least, Hyunjin hoped he wasn’t. He usually watched over you if you were ever in the vicinity. “Speaking of which, I should check up on him.”

Minho said his goodbyes, and Hyunjin flew back to Earth once he saw that you weren’t with Jeongin. You were studying at your desk, rolling a pen between your fingers, reading through a document on your laptop. The desk light casted a warm glow on your face. You frowned, and your lower lip swelled outwards.

He wished he were human.

Just as Minho said, Hyunjin waits for him to arrive in a secluded part of the university campus. The building rooftop is devoid of anyone, and the area surrounding it is empty as well. The evening turns into night, then night into the early morning when the sky begins lightening. Still, Minho has not come.

He distantly wonders how Jeongin is faring and his promise to Jisung. When he’s human, he’ll ask Jeongin directly, maybe in disguise of a survey: “Why did you break up with your last partner?” Even to him, it sounds stupid. However, that’s not the real reason why he’s giving up his divinity, so it hardly matters to him. Jisung is resourceful; he’ll find out eventually.

Finally, when the sun peeks over the horizon, Minho descends from Heaven, a familiar silver sword in his hand. He lands beside Hyunjin, a triumphant smile on his face. But his usual humor has been replaced with solemnity.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks as he rests the blade on the top of Hyunjin’s wings.

He has never felt so sure of anything in his life. “Yes.”

“It’s going to hurt.”

“Then make it quick.”

Searing pain shoots through his body as the sword pierces through the thin skin and into the bone. The process is not as nearly as seamless as Hyunjin hoped it would be, and Minho breathes heavily as he pushes the blade down. Bones snap, feathers drift to the floor, and blood trickles down his back. The pain only grows greater near the end, but Hyunjin grits his teeth and keeps quiet. Dawn breaks when his wings finally fall to the floor, no longer white but splattered with red. Soon they fade into dust, and the remnants scatter into the wind. His golden halo shatters into sunlight. The world dulls as the last of his powers disappear, but everything feels much better than when he was an angel.

“Thank you,” he whispers to Minho, who he cannot even look at anymore. His eyes would be burned.

“You’re fallen, not quite mortal and not quite divine. You won’t be affected by all of an angel’s power.”

When Hyunjin cautiously glances at him, Minho waves the bloody sword at him. “See?”

“Yeah.” He wanted humanity, but this is good enough for him. He just needs you to be able to see him, hear him, touch him.

“I need to go back before Heaven becomes Hell, but find Seungmin if you can. He can help you figure things out. Last I heard, he’s living somewhere in the mountains.”

“Thank you,” he repeats. “Minho, I can’t even put it into words about how much this means to me. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Minho pats his shoulder before stripping off his clean shirt. “Clean yourself before you leave. No one wants to witness a walking crime scene this early in the morning.”

When he flies back to Heaven, the last thing Hyunjin sees are his wings, still pure white.

“Hey,” you said as you laced your fingers with Jeongin’s. He had just finished class, and you had waited for him outside the building. Hyunjin had sat on the other end of the bench, savoring the proximity. That was the closest he would ever get to you. “Are you busy tonight? The skate shop just announced — literally an hour ago, those jerks — that they were doing a midnight drop, and I kind of want a new deck.”

“Ugh, I’ve been meaning to buy new trucks, but I have to meet up with my group tonight. Send me pictures though.”

Disappointment only momentarily flooded through Hyunjin. If it was anything like the last two meetups, it would be at the library, and the library was a safe place. Jeongin would be fine there. Hyunjin would be free to shadow you as you went to the skate shop.

“I can get it for you,” you offered.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. Maybe I’ll just wait for a sale.”

“Don’t be surprised if I do get you new trucks,” you warned. You let go of his hand and held his arm. “I still owe you for last month’s dinner.”

Jeongin shook his head again, a smile making its way onto his face. “You don’t owe me anything but a kiss.”

“Flirt,” you laughed as you pressed your lips to his cheek. “Never change, Yang Jeongin.”

That night at the skate shop, Hyunjin hovered above you as you stood in line, chatting with others. There were no unscrupulous characters around, but he stayed with you, only going back to Jeongin when Jisung insisted. However, by then, Hyunjin had already seen you eyeing the shiny teal trucks through the window. Hyunjin knew nothing about skateboards even after all those months, but you seemed pleased by them.

“You’re only getting trucks for sure?” your brand new acquaintance asked. “This is, like, the biggest drop they’ve ever done.”

You shrugged. “I’m kind of on the fence about the decks I saw on the email. I don’t know. Maybe wheels too?”

Meanwhile, Jisung hissed, “Hyunjin, go before something happens. What if a fight breaks out?”

Hyunjin sincerely doubted that one would happen at the library. He lingered around, taking his time unfolding his wings and stretching them.

“Your boyfriend’s lucky,” your acquaintance sighed.

“Nah, I’m the lucky one.”

Daisies, that’s what he needs right now. Choosing the rooftop of a building was not a smart decision, but the access door is thankfully unlocked, and Hyunjin races down all of the emergency stairs. However, with no form of currency on him, Hyunjin heads to the quad, hoping that he can pull up some dandelions for you. You need to be supported, and bright yellow flowers are just the thing.

What he doesn’t expect though, is to find you doing pop shove its at your usual spot. It’s so early in the day; did you even go back to your apartment to sleep?

“Good morning,” he calls as he walks closer. He waves at you, and you can see him! You tentatively wave back and give him a halfhearted smile. “How are you today? You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, and I’m fine,” you politely reply as you take a step back away from him. “What about you?”

Hyunjin curses in his head and takes another step towards you. “I’m good. Really good, actually. I was wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. I’m new here, and skateboarding seems like an efficient way to get around.”

You flinch at his words, and he desperately wants to take them back. How did Jeongin do it? Why do his statements come out so stiff? “You seem pretty good at it.”

“Are you not cold?” you blurt out. Hyunjin curses again as he realizes that he’s shirtless. His old one was stained, and Minho’s was as well as the result of his cleanup. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. “You know, I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you.”

“Hyunjin. My name’s Hyunjin.”

“Nice meeting you, Hyunjin.”

You grab your board and immediately head off to the direction of your apartment. Hyunjin is tempted to follow, but he stays where he is. A bad first impression isn’t the end of the world. The only thing holding him back is his lack of a shirt.

He wanders through the quad, scanning the grass for some flowers. Most of them are the white, fluffy dandelions, but he needs the bright yellow version. However, he takes the white ones anyway in case he can’t find any. The wind scatters the seeds, and he—

“Hyunjin, I told you not to come back.”

Jisung.

Hyunjin turns around, dropping his bouquet onto the ground. To his horror, not only is Jisung present but also the Archangel. His sword is strapped to his side like usual, not a blood splatter tainting it. Minho did an excellent job of cleaning up the crime scene.

“Jisung, Archangel,” Hyunjin nervously greets. The Archangel frightens him now. “How can I help you?”

“Jisung, why did you bring me here?” the Archangel asks. “I have other things to attend to.”

“He’s abandoned his human too many times, and I don’t think he’s fit to be a guardian angel anymore.”

The Archangel grasps the hilt of his sword and studies Hyunjin, up and down, back and forth. He circles him, and Hyunjin can almost feel his mortality-divinity shining through his body. Jisung hasn’t noticed yet, but there is no doubt the Archangel hasn’t.

“Normally,” the Archangel begins, “the punishment for not fulfilling your duties as a guardian angel is being expelled from Heaven. But you have already fallen.”

“What?” comes Jisung’s shocked voice.

“It was a mistake,” Hyunjin tries. Minho’s words ring in his ear: He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. “I thought I wanted humanity, but I’ve realized that being a guardian angel is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please. Grant me my divinity back. I will never abandon my human again. I will swear an oath if I have to.”

The Archangel smiles with no teeth, and a chill runs down Hyunjin’s spine. “I’m in a forgiving mood today, so I will do just as you ask. Your divinity will be granted back, but you will no longer be a guardian angel. I’m stripping you of those powers and those duties. You will be replaced immediately. It was my mistake for tasking you with such a large responsibility when you weren’t ready yet.”

With just a snap of the Archangel’s fingers, Hyunjin’s senses sharpen, and the world comes hurtling at him. Nothing is dull anymore, but everything feels so dark and wrong. You will never be able to see him, hear him, or talk to him again. And he will never be able to either. Power surges inside of him, and new wings burst through his shoulder blades, fanning out once they reappear. A silver halo hangs over his head. There is no physical pain into becoming immortal again, yet he wishes there was something. Everything he and Minho did was erased with ease.

Hyunjin swallows the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he chokes out.

“You’re very welcome. Come along now. Only guardian angels are allowed to be on Earth.”

Hyunjin follows the Archangel back to Heaven while Jisung goes after you. The Archangel loudly deliberates on who he should be replaced with, and Hyunjin knows that his request was not granted with kindness. The Archangel informs that he will be a messenger again. Hyunjin barely hears him as he takes one last look at Earth. Jeongin is there. Jisung is there. You are there.

Hyunjin avoids Minho’s eyes as he flies inside the realm behind the Archangel and hides among the rest of the regular angels until he is called to send a message. The higher-ups recognize him, make snide remarks about his demotion, and make pitiful faces at him. He barely registers them. There is a hollowness in him, and no matter how many memories he recalls, it isn’t enough to fill the void.

A few weeks later, Jisung approaches him, but even he stays a healthy distance away. “Hyunjin.” The disdain is clear.

“Jisung.”

“You knew about the reason all along, didn’t you? You were there when it happened.”

“When what happened?”

Realization dawns upon Jisung, and he shakes his head in disgust. “I should have known. You weren’t with him that night because you left him like you always did! You could have done something. Make him fall off his chair or something. Make the girl lose her balance. Instead, both of our humans suffered because you weren’t there.”

“What happened?”

“A girl from his group project randomly kissed him, and he thought he had been leading her on and cheating on his own girlfriend, so he broke up with her because he thought that would be the right thing to do instead of just telling her what actually happened. They’re back together now because he finally got the nerve to give her closure. It took nearly a month. They were miserable for a month. All because of you.”

It stings. “They’re okay now, right?”

“They’re fine, no thanks to you.” Just when Hyunjin thinks he’s going to leave, he takes a step forward, lips curled into sneer. “You know, angels and humans aren’t allowed to be with each other. It’s been forbidden for millenia.”

“I know,” he whispers. “But I loved her, and I had to try.”

“She would have never chosen you anyway.”

He never had a chance, did he?

~ ad.gray

Yes, you did! I remembered it and wondered if you were going to come back! Hope you enjoyed this! <3

#stray kids #skz #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids angst #skz angst #hyunjin angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #guardian angel au #anniversary special #20210816

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wannabe-fic-writer · 3 years

Text

Moment In Time

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Just when you've gotten out, you’re given a reason to come back.

Warnings: Mild Language

Chapter 5

* * * * * * *

“You and Fury seem to forget that I’m retired pretty easily.” You say, eyes focused on your surroundings instead of the man talking to you.

A nice breeze flows past, followed by another crowd of passersby. The street is busy as always at this time of day but you always appreciate the hustle and bustle of the city. Something about it appealed to you.

New York has always been busy, for as long as you can remember. Admittedly, with the lack of advanced technology in your time, people spent a lot more time talking to each other in passing than they now spend on their phones.

“No one’s forgotten, except maybe you,” Tony says and you turn to refocus your attention on him.“ Or did you forget that it was you who copped a ride with Fury to Sokovia.”

Of course you didn’t forget that. That mission had been more dangerous and life threatening than any one you’d previously been on.

The man hums and nods, a soft chuckle leaves his lips,“ unless of course you weren’t there for the team.”

“What?” Your eyebrows pinch together,“ what’re you talking about?”

“I’m talkin about you and Romanoff.” He leans forward, pushing his coffee cup away a little.“ Clint told me about that little moment you two had before the city fell. What’d you do? Spring to action when you realized Natasha was in danger?”

Your eyes roll but you avoid answering his question. Cause that is actually what you did. On top of being generally concerned with the safety of your friends, your main focus was Natasha. You’d never admit it, out loud, but you know that’s what happened. And you know why you did, even if you won’t admit it at all.

“Awe, don’t want me exposing your crush on Nat?” He further teases and your nose turns up at him.

“Think I liked you better when you were running around in pjs and building robots and stuff.” He makes an offended face and you smile sarcastically at it.“ If I agree to train the Maximoff kids will you not mention these supposed feelings for Natasha that you assume I have.”

For a moment he looks at you, then nods.“ You’ve got yourself a deal Y/ln. Also,” he pushes his chair back and stands up,“ you’re just training the girl. Rogers apparently has some special plan for Speedy.” Picking up his cup, he claps his hand on your shoulder with extra force, and walks away.

Just as you’re about to slouch into your seat to stay an extra few minutes he calls out for you to come with him and you resist the urge to groan. Sighing softly, you finish your tea and get up.

As you expected Tony takes you to the tower. His choice of music blasts through the sports car and you can’t help but chuckle. Since he was thirteen he’d been obsessed with classic rock. You have no idea what the first song he heard was but whatever it was it hooked him to the genre.

Through the loud music he explains everything you’ll have to go over with Wanda and mentions that he’s getting a facility together upstate that will become the new Avengers HQ, but that move is going to take some time so the tower is still “home” as of now. You nod along, knowing that if not for your enhanced abilities you wouldn’t be able to hear him correctly.

By the time Tony pulls into the private parking garage, whipping into his spot and turning the car off, you completely understand what role you’re about to play in terms of training Wanda.

“What? Eager to get to work?” He asks after you’ve practically sprinted out of the car.

“More like eager to get out before my ears start bleeding.” You tell him, glancing over your shoulder at him to stick your tongue out playfully. You don’t have to keep looking at him to know he rolled his eyes.

The familiarity of the building makes it easy to navigate. Pretty much leaving Tony in the dust, you walk through the lobby to the elevators. Taking them up to the training floor.

Your plan hadn’t been to see anyone just yet. Mainly coming here to form some sort of plan as far as training the Maximoff girl goes. Only for her to be the person you run into once having stepped into the training room.

She’s across the room, fingers running over the edges of a treadmill as her eyes look through the large floor to ceiling window. You imagine she’s taking in the sight the tower provides of New York.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” You ask, effectively grabbing the young woman’s attention. She turns her head to face you, eyebrows pinching together as she’s not familiar with you, only having seen you just before you hugged Natasha in Sokovia.

“It is.” She replies shortly and you chuckle at it, stepping further into the room.

Giving her a soft smile you introduce yourself,“ I’m Y/n,” you move over to the weight benches,“ Stark asked me to come in and help you adjust.”

Her eyes narrow and that draws your attention to the fact that her eyes are green.“ Are you an Avenger? Because I haven’t seen you around here.”

“I am not. I’m supposed to be retired but no one seems to give a damn so here I am.” Spreading your arms a little to emphasize your current location.

For whatever reason your words make her giggle and you smile at that, happy to have broken the ice at least a little.

“So how’re you going to help me adjust Y/n?” Her inquisitive gaze follows her moving closer to you.

“Not sure. What do you need help adjusting to?” Your head tilts and your eyebrow quirks.“ The training regiment? Your new chaotic teammates? Living in New York?”

“Is all of the above an option?” She asks, and although you know she’s serious you still hear the teasing in her tone.

With a quiet laugh you nod,“ all of the above is an option.” You let her know.“ Um, I’m not sure of all the details with the move upstate but how about I show you around the tower and we can go over the basics of your training and such?” You decide to pose it as a question in case she doesn’t want to.

“That would be nice actually.” She smiles and you notice that it’s truly genuine. So with a smile in return, you motion for her to follow you out of the room.

With her being on this floor, you assume she’s seen it all. Not that there’s much to see. It’s the training floor so there’s nothing but gyms and a locker room. Getting in the elevator, you press the number for one of the floors dedicated to just hanging out.

Not liking the silence of the elevators, Wanda breaks it with a question.“ So why didn’t you join the Avengers?”

“Um,” you take a deep breath and release it as a sigh,“ I’d already done the whole superhero thing before. The Avengers came in and I was no longer needed.”

“Oh really?” She asks and her tone of voice makes you chuckle, then nod.“ And what made you want to be a superhero?”

The elevator stops and the doors slide open.“ I saw what they could do. The difference superheroes make in people's lives.”

Picking up on the shift in your energy, Wanda frowns, ignoring the very expensive looking stuff in the room.“ What happened?” She asked carefully, as if she were trying not to trigger something.

“I-” you sigh softly, contemplating whether to actually tell her or not. Looking into her eyes you see past the general curiosity and what you find pushes you to tell her.

So you both get comfortable on one of the couches in the room and you open up to her.“ I was taken by HYDRA when I was fairly young. And it’s not like the guards and scientists were interested in anything other than making me the perfect weapon. So when they started to experiment on me I was already in a horrible state physically. My health was on a steady decline and none of their experiments worked, it actually made me fatally ill. And with no further use of me, they’d left me there to die.”

Wanda listens intently, eyes misting with tears at the information of your mistreatment.“ But you didn’t.”

“No I didn’t,” you both laugh softly at that.“ The, at the time soon to be, founders of SHIELD were working with the US military to shut down HYDRA after World War II and they found the facility I was being held in. While they saved everyone who was being held captive there, I was in the worst shape. Seeing that I was on the verge of death, they made a decision to administer the super soldier serum to me to save my life.”

Wanda’s eyebrows raise and you have to admit that her expression is amusing.“ You’re a super soldier from World War II?” You nod.“ How old would that make you?”

“I’m 90. And I wasn’t in the war. I was born before the war. When it started I was 16 and already in a HYDRA base.”

She looks down and bites her bottom lip. You know she has another question on the tip of her tongue. And with her background, having volunteered to be experimented on by HYDRA, you know she’ll have a lot more questions after that.

So with a deep breath, you ask what’s on her mind and tuck in for a long conversation.

* * *

After a long day at SHIELD, going over papers to further induct the twins into the Avengers, Natasha finally gets back to the tower. She ignores all the SHIELD agents rushing in and out of the lobby and goes straight for the elevators.

Mentally, she admits that after the headache that is going into SHIELD, the sound of your laugh as soon as she gets on the main floor is refreshing. A small smile forms on her face and she makes her way towards the kitchen where she hears your voice.

While she knows you’re friends with the rest of her team, she can’t help but wonder if you came here to see her.

That thought falls short the instant she reaches the kitchen doorway. She quickly finds that the source of your laugh is the same young woman she’d just been recruiting onto her team.

In fact, laughter comes from you and Wanda as you cook together. The aroma smells incredible but she can’t help but to remember that this is the very same thing the two of you had done on multiple occasions.

“Nat, hey, when’d you get here?”

Your voice pulls Natasha from her thoughts and she almost smiles again. Almost.

“A few minutes ago.” She decides to take a step closer, which puts her right in the doorway.“ What’re you two making?”

“Um,” your eyebrows pinch together and you look at Wanda.

“Paprikash.” She answers with a quiet giggle and a shake of her head.

You smile at her then look back up at Natasha,“ we’re making Paprikash.”

The redhead hums, debating with herself on whether she should stay or not. An indescribable feeling nagged in the back of her mind, growing more persistent as she looks at you and Wanda happily interacting with one another. It gradually chips away at her excitement to spend time with you and she hates it.

With a huff she says,“ I’ll leave you two to it.”

She turns on her heel and walks away, effectively dodging the blue blur that is Pietro running into the kitchen, heading back to the elevator. With her floor practically empty due to the move, she wasn’t eager to go up but it seemed more relaxing than watching someone else make you laugh and smile how she did.

Just as the elevator doors have started to close you slip through, narrowly missing getting your arm caught between the doors, and stand directly in front of her. Your eyes scan her form, up to her face and lingering there. She watches as you take her in, your eyes finally meeting.

In a soft voice, one that practically melts her heart, you ask,“ are you okay?” She can’t say she expected you to ask that, plus the equally as soft look in your eyes, she grasps for an answer. One that isn’t ‘I didn’t like seeing you so happy with someone else’.

“Just tired. It’s been a long day and my floor isn’t exactly relaxation friendly right now.” She excuses.

Nodding along, you smile a little at her,“ think I could help with that if you’d let me.” And there’s no way she’s saying no.

That’s how, a little over thirty minutes later, she finds herself following you into your apartment building with takeout bags and beer in hand.

You hadn’t explained the plan until you were picking up the food. Telling her that a change of scenery might be exactly what she needs. Her trying to relax and unwind at the Tower was equivalent to a lawyer trying to relax at their firm.“ You can’t destress from work at work.” You reasoned.

Unlocking your door, you gently push it open and hold it for Natasha. She wasn’t sure what to expect of your apartment, but what she finds definitely isn’t it.

Walking into your apartment makes her a little confused. It’s like stepping into a time vault that housed a number of different eras all at once. While things like your appliances and a few tables or paintings were modern or at least from the last decade, your couch, chairs, and even your cabinets look dated.

It was as if you furnished your home without a single clue of what you actually knew you wanted to present. But it’s you. Natasha finds that it almost perfectly embodies the person she’s come to know you to be.

Since the moment she met you it was clear you were equally as present as you were stuck in the past. Your friendships with Tony and Steve showed that in an ironic way. With Tony the majority of your conversations or bonding was over the future, things he was planning, building, or tinkering with that would change the future. While with Steve you focused on the way things used to be in the era you grew up and were raised in.

“Nice place.” She finally says, moving her eyes from the kitchen to you.“ Very, you.”

The look you give her makes a small giggle leave her lips. You seemed so proud of her first comment and then the second one made you frown, as if you couldn’t tell if you should take it as an insult or a compliment.

“Don’t think too hard Y/ln, your ears are starting to smoke.” She says jokingly, patting your cheek without giving it any thought. Her turning away makes her miss the way you flush at her inconsequential touch.

At your invitation, she makes herself at home, finding a spot on the couch and starting to unpack the food. You join her shortly after with plates and forks, turning the tv on and going to a channel you both enjoy watching.

“How you feelin about the move?” You ask, picking up your plate and leaning back against the couch. Even though the tv is on, Natasha can’t help but notice that all your attention seems to be on her.

While she is definitely used to the attention, men and women alike focusing solely on her because of her looks, your attention is different. She knows it would be unreasonable of her to think you aren’t paying attention to her for her looks because well, when she gives you attention the first thing she looks at is your looks. You’re incredibly attractive, especially to the redhead. But it was more than that.

On both ends, yourself and Natasha saw the physical beauty, but you looked beyond that. You saw the beauty of each other’s personalities.

You’re lighthearted, you have an outlook on life that she finds intriguing, and not just because you’re decades older than her, it was how you maintained a fairly optimistic view on things despite the cards you’d been dealt in the past. On top of that you’re honest and caring, especially to the people you consider friends and family.

As far as she goes, you see her in, almost, the same way she sees you. She’s honest. Shows her care in a way that you find adorable, mainly because it’s so nonchalant. Her will to keep going, to endure the many trials she’s been through. Her strength never fails to amaze you. Not to mention the absolute admiration you have for her in regards to her clearing her ledger. Especially since being an Avenger means so much more to her than just that.

That thought alone sends a rumbling of butterflies in her stomach and she hates how childish it feels but loves it all the same.

“Um,” she looks down, letting her hair curtain between you two to hide the blush that rises.“ I can’t say I feel any particular way about it.”

When she feels your fingers ghost over her cheek, she has half a mind to grab your hand and break it, but it’s you and she’s been secretly craving your touch. In the softest gesture she’d ever been on the end of, you brush her hair back. Your fingers lightly run over her cheek and temple as you hook her hair behind her ear.

She looks over to see you drop your head slightly to catch her eye, a little smile on your face.“ It is okay if you aren’t all that happy to be leaving. The tower has been your home for the last few years. An attachment or even familiarity with it is understandable.”

“I-” she sighs, just barely tilts her head closer to your touch, then lifts her head.“ I’ve never had a home Y/ln.” She knows you can hear the hurt in her words, cause admittedly she didn’t hide it like she usually would. She doesn’t feel the need to with you.

You go quiet for a moment and Natasha wonders if maybe she should’ve kept her somber comment to herself. The instant she considers walling herself off again, you speak.“ Well then maybe,”

She raises an eyebrow at you.“ Maybe what?”

“Maybe this could be your home.” You swallow, nerves manifesting in the way you play with your food.“ I know you’ve only just been here today but, everyone deserves a safe haven. Somewhere they can escape from the rest of the world. Everyone deserves a home.” You finally look back into her eyes,“ especially you Nat.”

You didn’t know but in that moment you got to her in a way no one else ever had. You didn’t tear her walls down. Instead, as if understanding the very reason the walls had been put up in the first place, you built a door to her heart and soul. And only you hold the key to it.

She’s hit with the weight of her feelings for you, feelings she’d never had for anyone before. As terrifying as she finds it, she can’t help but think that if there’s anyone who she could trust to be gentle with these feelings it’s you.

* * * * * * *

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