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freedomfireflies · 8 months

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The Angel and the Fae

Summary: The one where Harry is an angel that falls in love with a garden fairy.

And even the heavens can't keep you apart.

Word Count: 3.2k

Harry thinks you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen.

He decides this the moment he sees you. Resolves instantaneously upon a fleeting glance that you – with your long hair that flows beneath the crown of white lilies atop your head – will be the reason he falls from heaven.

He watches you from the edge of Aspen Hollow. Never once stepping foot past the sacred edge that surrounds the ethereal garden where you preside. Not even a feather from his wings is permitted to dance into such holy ground.

A fawn has crawled its way into your lap. Entrusting you with its care and safety as its eyes fall shut and it blissfully settles into your delicate and soothing embrace.

You’re speaking to it. Softly. Comfortingly. Trailing your finger from its nose down to its spine.

“There, little one,” you’re cooing. Hushed yet reverent. “Sleep now.”

Harry considers himself lucky to be able to hear the way your heart beats beneath your chest. Steady. Rhythmic. Calm. You’re happy. Content and filled with tranquility.

He detects the exact moment you sense him. Catches the hitch in your breath and the jump of your pulse.

He readies himself to explain – to assuage you. He expects your fear, your resentment. Expects you to cast him out. Forbid him from returning.

Instead, you seem…curious. Hesitant but inquisitive, and when your head turns, his lungs just about cave in.

And in that moment, when your eyes find his, his purpose changes. His entire reason for existence is plucked from one instrument and played on another. A tune so beautiful, so melodious…it makes his heart sing.

You’re watching him much like he was watching you. But you don’t move from your spot on the grass, instead keeping the fawn safely tucked away in your lap.

You blink, and Harry swears he can feel the flutter of it against his cheek.

“Hello,” you call quietly, your gentle voice carrying across the few hundred yards from where you reside.

You must know he’ll be able to hear you, and Harry straightens up dutifully, his wings following suit. Expanding some as if to display a sense of chivalry.

“Hello,” he calls back, equally as soft.

You seem to study him for a moment, and Harry swears this is the longest he’s ever gone without breathing.

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” you tell him, and he nods once.

“I know,” he admits. “I suppose I just…found it hard to tear myself away.”

You glance down at the sleeping doe on your lap, and he feels his insides twist now that your eyes aren’t on him.

“I apologize if I’ve disturbed you,” he adds, hoping to encourage your attention back.

You hum faintly and brush your palm down the baby deer’s back. “You have not.”

This makes Harry’s mouth curl up into a giddy smile. “Then would you mind if I stay? Only for a moment? I feel quite at peace here.”

You regard him carefully. Inquiringly. “I would imagine an angel is quite often at peace.”

He considers this. “Peace is a privilege,” he finally replies gently. “And it is one that is often lost on me.”

This seems to surprise you, your lips parting delicately as Harry’s pulse begins to thump in his ears. “Then you may stay as long as you’d like.”

His grin doubles in size as he nods his appreciation. “Thank you.”

However, when he remains planted near the tall oak tree that sits beside the edge of the garden, you glance back over.

“Angel,” you call, and Harry’s entire chest caves in. “You’ll disturb me more if you hover like that.”

He hesitates, looking over the soft but hallowed grass only inches away. “Angels aren’t allowed inside The Garden.”

“Not unless invited,” you correct, and he straightens up. “And I am inviting you in.”

Still, Harry can’t make his feet move, despite the way his wings are desperate to carry him to you. Centuries worth of warnings and guidelines are attempting to remind him of his place, of his duty and his loyalty to the heavens. But that does nothing to dampen his urge to go forth and take.

“Angel,” you repeat with a glimmer in your eye. “Come.”

And that’s all it takes for his foot to instantly cross over into sacred ground.

The moment his wings pass through the invisible barrier, a forceful wind ripples across the garden. Echoing between the trees and the grass as the billowing of air sweeps from flower to flower. All the way to the other side.

You feel your eyes widen as you watch him approach. He’s hesitant but intrigued. And perhaps you know better than to invite him in, but your heart aches to provide the handsome figure a moment of serenity.

He studies every petal and vine as he walks through, wonderstruck by the enchanted orchard. He smiles brightly when a blue jay swoops down beside him, the small bird fluttering around his head a time or two before disappearing back into the branches.

And the angel laughs. A sound that resembles the moment a wave breaks against the shore. Loud and lively before it settles and softens.

“This is beautiful,” he says, and you nod.

“It represents serenity. A moment of calm before the next stage of life.”

You both look to the small creature in your lap, and the angel’s expression changes. “Are you saying hello…or goodbye?”

You smile gently, trailing your fingers down the sleeping fawn’s spine. “We are saying hello.”

Those clear, green eyes seem to sparkle at you as he grins. “Hello,” he repeats.

You nod again. “She’ll be sent down soon. The moment the sunlight disappears behind the mountains.”

The angel is intrigued, crouching down a few feet away as he studies the way you trail your palm over the soft coat. “Is it hard to let them go?”

“No,” you answer easily, smiling some. “They are meant to live. To flourish. To exist outside of this realm and give back to the earth what it has given to them.”

The garden falls quiet. You feel him watching you while you watch the creature in your lap. He seems to be wrestling against another question and you chuckle to yourself as the fawn awakes.

“Off you go,” you whisper quietly, helping the wobbling baby doe from your lap before it’s bounding toward the grass and disappearing out of sight.

Left alone with the quiet angel, you both stand and turn to each other. Now provided with a better glimpse of his large frame and sizable wings.

He straightens up under your inquisitive stare, feathers fluttering as the wind passes between you. “I appreciate you allowing me in,” he says tentatively. “I don’t mean to break your rules.”

“They are not my rules,” you correct, waving his apology away. “I believe that anyone who needs a moment of stillness should be given one.”

This seems to charm him. “And I believe you are the first and only fairy to think so.”

You grin. “Perhaps. But I’ve never understood the divide between angels and fairies. Both are providers of comfort and refuge. It seems silly to be at odds with each other.”

He hums, and you wonder if you’ve offended him. “I agree,” he says, and you feel your muscles unwind. “But the heavens have a different belief.”

“They believe that just because fairies were created by a different hand, we are not to be trusted," you snort beneath a quiet breath. "That we are all tricksters and supernatural entities unworthy of eternal salvation.”

“Are you?” His tone is playful, and you feel your smile return tenfold.

“I am a garden fairy,” you reply. “I tend to the trees and the animals. I don’t have time for tricks.”

His look of amusement seems to mirror your own.

“And you?” you ask next, gesturing toward him. “An angel without peace is like a heart without rhythm. Why do you come here when you know better?”

He takes a moment to consider his answer. “Truthfully, I don’t know,” he finally responds. “There was a pulling. On my soul. My wings. They led me here and I wasn’t quite sure why.”

“Well, have you found the peace you were looking for?”

His eyes meet yours. “I have.”

Another unspoken moment dances between you as your attention drifts toward the very plumage he displays so proudly.

You’ve seen angel wings before but never this close. Never when they were near enough to touch. Truth be told, you weren’t sure you’d ever get the chance, and you imagine the quiet angel can hear your heart racing.

But he’s smiling at the way you stare. Seemingly amused by your fascination and wide eyes as you watch the cream-colored feathers flutter against the wind.

“They’re…beautiful,” you admit softly, attention following the curves and dips of each row expanding from his back. “Are they heavy?”

“Not normally, no,” he tells you. “Only in times of great sorrow.”

Confused, you raise a curious brow.

His grin grows. “Each feather symbolizes that of someone I’ve watched over. And when they move on, a piece of their soul stays with me. It lives and it breathes, and it is.”

He steps closer and you feel your breath catch, awestruck by the way the large pennons begin to curl around his frame.

“When their soul is happy, the wings feel weightless,” he continues, a far-off look in his expression. “And when they’re sad, when they cry…my wings cry for them.”

There’s a pleasant sort of ache in your chest. “You’re a guardian angel.”

“I am.” His arm outstretches for you, palm to the sky as he silently requests your hand. “Here.”

Hesitantly but with great keenness, you oblige his instruction, sliding your fingers along his skin.

The moment the contact is made, you both seem to jolt. Magnetized by the feel of his flesh against your own. A stark contrast that’s somehow hauntingly familiar. Soothing in a sense. Destined.

He brings you closer, guiding the tips of your fingers to his wings. Ghosting them across the soft feathers as you suck in a quiet breath and feel the entire weight of the world on his back.

He holds you for only a moment before allowing you to travel the expanse of his wingspan on your own. Delicate strokes along the rows of quills that seem to bask in your touch.

“How do they feel?” he asks quietly, almost as if not to startle you.

Your lips roll into your mouth as you search for the right words. Or any word that could even begin to come close to describing such an ethereal sensation.

“Magical,” you finally say, and he smiles.

“Certainly no more magical than a fairy.”

Smirking to yourself, you lower toward the grass, and extend your hand. Your fingers dance above the blades momentarily before you make a quick snap of your wrist.

Instantly, a flower springs forth from the dirt. Sprouting up out of the soil in full bloom as the angel’s eyes widen.

You pluck it from its roots and straighten back up before offering him the small, dainty lily stem. He steps forward, allowing you to guide the flower behind his ear and tuck it between soft, chestnut curls.

“How do I look?” he asks.

You laugh. “Magical.”

He holds your giddy stare for a second longer before he murmurs, “You’re quite beautiful.”

A bit stunned, you smile, and wave the compliment away. “You must be standing too close.”

With a cheeky hum, the angel suddenly steps back, his wings now fluttering about the air until his feet lift from the ground.

Then, his feathers carry him a few hundred yards away before he lowers back down, studies you, and calls, “Nope. Still beautiful.”

Despite yourself, you laugh again. “You’re quite forward for an angel.”

“And you’re quite timid for a fae,” he retorts, returning to you as a rustle of wind sweeps through your hair. “I was expecting a bit more fearlessness.”

“I’m only fearless when I choose to be,” you tell him. “But I just met you. Why should I share all my secrets when I don’t even know your name?”

The handsome angel considers this before nodding and stepping up to you. “Harry,” he says quietly, as if the answer is reserved only for you. “They call me Harry.”

A stunning name for a stunning man, and you feel your pulse jump while it makes a home in your mind. “Harry,” you repeat, making him grin. “That’s quite pretty.”

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “And what do they call you?”

You lift one shoulder in a gentle shrug. “I suppose I don’t really have a name. Or at least I don’t have anybody to use it if I do.”

His eyes soften while he glances over the crown of delicate white flowers woven between the locks of your hair. “Then I will call you my Lily,” he decides, and there’s a new sort of blossoming in your chest. “If I may.”

You struggle against such merriment. “You may.”

“Good.” He seems equally as enchanted, and for the first time in almost a hundred years, you feel mesmerized by an angel. Then, his chin motions just behind you. “The sun is beginning to set.”

Turning, you find that it is, and your heart soars as you eagerly reach over and take his hand to drag him toward the middle of the garden.

It’s an action made without much forethought, the need to feel his skin against yours almost like instinct now.

For a moment, you both hesitate. Unsure of the presumptuous act until Harry squeezes your palm, and silently encourages you to lead him where you’d like to go.

You take him toward the middle of the meadow, just beside the calm stream of water.

There, you find the baby fawn. Standing curiously on the other side, waiting to bid you goodbye.

You and the angel come to a stop on the edge of the grass just as the sun is filtering between the trees. Casting a golden hue across the orchard and setting the secluded hollow aglow.

And just as the stars are beginning to take their place in the sky, the sweet doe meets your eye, and lifts its head.

You smile. “Goodbye, little one.”

Its left ear flicks before it turns on its heel, and leaps over the hill. Disappearing from sight as it’s carried into another realm.

Leaving The Garden behind.

Harry seems to hold his breath from beside you as he looks down. “And will it be okay?”

You lace your fingers with his and nod. “It will.”

Silence settles between the trees, between your hearts. It’s comfortable and it’s still and the faint sound of rustling leaves calms your racing pulse.

You look over and allow your attention to trail across his face. Taking note of each line, each edge, each crinkle. The shape of his lips, the slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw. The dimples in his cheeks and the dark hairs of his eyebrows.

He’s quite handsome. Alluring, in a sense, yet oddly safe. You imagine this was by design. To help those he protects, and comforts feel more at ease in his presence.

And while you’re looking at him, you notice he’s looking at you, too. Just as intently, with nothing but admiration. He studies the faint, golden sparkles that litter your skin. The way they glimmer beneath each drop of moonlight, a common feature amongst fairies.

You imagine this isn’t the first time he’s seen a fae’s enchanted flesh. But he indulges in the sight of you, nonetheless. Indulges in your magic.

Then, he steps forward, and you feel the air shift.

“May I confess something?” he whispers, and you sense his slight hesitation.

“Of course.”

With a deep inhale, he tentatively reaches out his hand and ghosts the tips of his fingers along your cheek. “…I feel an overwhelming urge to kiss you.”

Your lashes flutter while the insides of your stomach twist and turn into impervious knots. “Oh?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Mhm. And I know that breaks…every rule in existence.”

“And then some,” you breathe, struggling against the desire to push yourself into his palm.

You wonder if this is part of the ruse. If perhaps you feel so enamored by him because that’s what a guardian angel does. It encourages you to feel more susceptible. Maybe this pull to him is nothing more than magic.

Still, it pulls you, nonetheless.

“I want to kiss you, Lily,” he murmurs, moving closer until the front of his chest just brushes against your own. “And I’m afraid I don’t quite know what to do now.”

And you know the admonitions. Know the rules, the history between angels and fairies. You know that his very presence in this garden is inviting trouble into paradise, and yet…you have no yearning to tell him to go.

Because you don’t want him to go. You don’t want him to take his hand from your cheek. You don’t want him to leave this sacred orchard at all, and even though every fiber of your being, every nerve-ending, and every cell in your body is desperately attempting to warn you…you push into his touch, anyway.

“I think…you should kiss me,” you finally say, grasping onto his wrist.

This answer surprises you both. Neither one of you understand it or have the knowledge to comprehend the repercussions.

All you know is right here, right now. His hand on your face, his lips much too close, and his aura. His effortless ability to make you feel like you’ve just come home.

His thumb follows the outline of your cheekbone. “Are you sure?”

You squeeze his arm a bit tighter and nod once. “I don’t see why not. What’s the worst that could happen?”

He grins – a wide, toothy grin – and you decide that it might be the most beautiful thing in this whole garden. “What a fearless way of looking at it.”

With that, he kisses you. Presses his lips to yours and takes each strained breath from your lungs.

It’s hesitant and it’s unsure and it’s perfect. A moment in time meant just for the two of you, here beneath the large willow tree and the pale light of the moon.

Eventually, he pulls back, but he keeps himself close. His mouth moving to your cheek while your eyes fall shut.

And you drink him in. His scent, his skin. Memorizing each inch of the angel in your arms as you ask yourself what you did to deserve such wonder.

“I’m afraid I have to go,” he says. But it’s heavy, the way he speaks. “If I don’t return soon, they’ll come looking.”

You nod your understanding and swallow the lump in your throat. “Go,” you whisper. “You have souls to protect.”

This makes him chuckle before a wounded look of remorse settles on his expression, the palm of his hand slipping around the back of your neck.

He dips down to rest his forehead against yours, almost as though looking for balance. Stability amidst a sea of uncertainty, and you’re more than happy to offer it to him.

“My Lily,” he exhales, and the sound of your name on his tongue sends a shiver down your spine. “I am so glad my wings brought me to you.”

Smiling, you nuzzle the tip of your nose against his.

“May they bring you back again.”

The next parts will be all the angst and turmoil and fluff and smut, I swear, I just had to do the background first HAHAHA WE ARE THROWING ALL THE TROPES INTO ONE POT AND COOKIN' BABY!

Amazing credit for the beautiful dividers to @firefly-graphics 💞

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Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince

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la-sera · 3 months

Note

Hi Sera!! I saw that you were looking for some new Downfall Duo content, so I wrote you a little something. It’s short but I hope it helps lift your spirits a bit <333

It’s a calm night, for once.

Hyrule gazes into the flickering flames, letting his brother’s voices drift around him like floating fairies. He is too tired to join in tonight. But merely listening is enough. Being here with them, being safe and full and warm, fills him with a happiness little else conjures.

It’s like the magic of his sisters — all softly sweet, precious, mysterious. Blink and you’ll miss it.

So, he keeps his heavy eyelids open. Because never in a million years did Hyrule think he would have something like this.

Off to the side, Wild and Twilight and Time bicker about something, even as they sit close. Their voices are light and teasing. Smiles rest on worn faces.

The two younger heroes have broken through the older hero’s quiet cautiousness. Their grins tell of their pride in doing so.

Wind and Warriors snuggle not far off. Warriors is telling a story and every so often, Wind breaks in with a question or exclamation.

Four is close by, pressed against Sky’s side, a book in his hand and his ears perked to hear the captain’s tale. The Skyloftian works quietly away at the block of wood in his hands.

Which leaves Legend.

As soon as they had finished setting up camp, the veteran had not-so-subtly situated himself beside Hyrule. And now, as if on cue, his head thunks softly against Hyrule’s shoulder.

He looks down, barely suppressing a giggle at the sight of the veteran propped against him. He had relaxed as soon as he had sat down, but in this moment he is practically asleep.

Eyes half-lidded, body relaxed, Legend watches their brothers with a lazy smile on his face.

Seeing him like this is a special thing not lost on the traveler.

He trusts you, something inside Hyrule whispers. A grin tugs at his lips.

“Don’ laugh,” Legend murmurs, just the barest tinge of irritation in his tone. “‘M tired after all that walking.”

“I wasn’t gonna laugh!” Hyrule retorts. Quickly, he shoves down the chuckles still pressing at his throat.

Legend is scowling now, though he looks no less sleepy for it.

…Or content. He cuddles in closer and Hyrule rests his head atop the veteran’s.

“Were too. I can see it on your face, Rulie. You find my exhaustion…comical.”

Hyrule’s grin grows. “Okay, maybe a little bit.”

Legend closes his eyes, a victorious smirk on his lips.

“Knew it.”

Hyrule doesn’t reply. He is growing sleepy now, and is more than content to merely let a comfortable silence blanket them.

A wisp of his magic drifts toward Legend without conscious thought. Gently, protectively, it wraps around him, like an embrace. The veteran relaxes further beneath its touch.

“Hey, Ledge,” Hyrule murmurs after a long thread of peaceful moments.

Legend shifts, slightly. “Hm?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you this but…” He sighs, a soft smile on his lips. “I’m glad that we got to meet.

“I’m glad that you’re my brother.”

There is a long, drawn out pause. Then, Legend replies in a voice thick with something other than sleep.

“Yeah…me too, Rule.” He moves once more, maneuvering into a more comfortable position. “Now, if you’re done with the mushy stuff, I’m goin’ to sleep.”

Hyrule grins, knowingly. “And you’re gonna use me as a pillow?”

“Seems that way.”

Rolling his eyes, Hyrule chuckles. “Fine.”

Really, though, being the veteran’s pillow isn’t so bad of a fate (yes, even now that Wind and Wild are creeping over to snap a few photos for future blackmail). Maybe, Legend will actually be able to sleep tonight.

And maybe, just maybe…so will he.

OH MY. Did you write this on purpose for me? Sorry for disturbing your time, you didn't have to do that. I really thank you, I like this. So much. I read it while lying down, and maybe I read it more than 5 times. I miss Downfall Duo.

I got the idea and immediately made a fanart from your fic. Hope you like it too.

Once again, thank you, I am happy with this fic you gave me. this gives me comfort.

#sera ask box #sera treasure box #linked universe #link #zelda #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu fanart #linkeduniverse

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whatifwekissedatneocity · 5 months

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be with you

multiple bsd characters x reader. reader is gn (gender neutral).

about: dates with bsd characters. established relationship

featuring: dazai, chuuya, atsushi, akutagawa, ranpo

notes: atsushi is referred to as “jinko” (white tiger) in aku’s part

kiel notes: idk if you can tell whose part is more self indulgent LMAOOO managed this during writer’s block i think im a god. kidding

DAZAI — cosy colouring book date at home

dazai recently bought colouring books from the bookstore. he said along the lines of “exploring creativity,” but really, he’s just lazy and broke for outdoor dates. you didn’t mind, though; quality time is still time spent with your lover.

worn out faber castell colour pencils are splayed out on his futon, and you both are lying on your stomachs. he kicks his legs and fills the empty pages with different colours. a peaceful and quiet retreat from the world with dazai gently humming a song you can’t quite make out, only to be disturbed by the gentle sounds and laughter of lovers.

“why’s the penguin yellow?” you giggle, and he pouts.

“have you seen club penguin? all the penguins have different cute colours!” he shades another penguin green and you rolled your eyes. “that game is dead, though..” you remarked, and he scoffed playfully. “not dead in my heart."

being childish and immature with the right person truly heals your inner child.

CHUUYA — aquarium (his mayoi card!!)

chuuya’s gloved hand held your hand as you both strolled through the tanks. your fingers traced the outlines of the fish as they swam close. he points at an ugly fish and laughs, “it looks like you." your jaw drops because that fish was actually ugly. it was your turn to exact revenge, and you point towards a small fry fish, saying, “and that’s you." you stick your tongue out at him and his mouth twitches in amusement. talk shit get hit.

your fish and his fish swam to each other and circled in a dance. he chuckles, “maybe that’s actually us,” he watches the fish swim away, and you beamed, “we could rule the fish kingdom together!” his eyes soften when he sees your bright smile illuminated under the blue aquarium light, before he smirks again.

“yeah yeah, you don’t even know how to swim,” ouch. there’s some truth in his words, and you can only sigh. fishes are naturally good at swimming, so it wouldn’t be a problem if you guys were one.

he sends you both back home by piggybacking you and zipping through the city. you hold your shoes in one hand after a long day of walking, and you grip the shark plushie he won at the aquarium in another.

ATSUSHI — cuddling in a pillow fort

you throw a blanket over the pillow fort you and atsushi have built in the last ten minutes. he struggles to let the fairy lights stay put as he pulls them around the fort.

“get in already!” you pat the spot beside you impatiently, and he crawls in. your laptop rests on his right thigh and your left thigh, sharing a movie screen. it’s a movie marathon on a rainy day. the horror movie plays, and atsushi hides his face in your neck when a jump scare appears.

lightning flashes outside and thunder roars, sending the poor boy flinching a little. you felt bad, so you decided to call off the marathon (not even one movie in) “okay no more, we can just cuddle." you close the laptop screen, and he lays on your lap. your fingers twirl his soft hair, and he purrs softly. atsushi’s soft purring and the soft pitter-patter of the raindrops outside lull you to sleep. you lay your back against the fort gently, eyes closed and relaxed with your lover.

AKUTAGAWA — cat cafe

it took a lot of convincing for akutagawa to go on this date. he didn’t like going to a cafe with the same species and animal family as atsushi. he agreed anyway because he didn’t want to see you upset (good).

you sat on the floor and wiggled a feather toy around while akutagawa fed lickable treats. many cats surrounded him and rubbed their bodies against his thighs. a white cat that oddly resembles a tiger approaches him, and he moves the treat away.

“ryu, you’re so mean.” you clicked your tongue and fed the white cat some of your treats. “it looks like jinko.” he grumbled and stared at the cat with his void eyes. at this point atsushi is your boyfriend’s boyfriend.

akutagawa uses his ability to create a mini cat tower for the cats surrounding him. you can’t help but giggle at his helplessness when the cats jump on him. they seem like to him a lot, well, except for that one cat he denied of treats.

on your way back home, you told him he looked like a tuxedo cat. he only cocks an eyebrow at you, not questioning your weird comparison.

RANPO — dessert tasting

a flyer comes into the agency’s mail, and ranpo is already dragging you down the busy afternoon streets. “come y/n, we have to go. it’s an important mission.” his grabs your wrist tightly and enters the cafe. mission? at a cafe?

what came into the mail was a notice for a dessert tasting at a cafe before their grand opening. ranpo could already discern the flyer’s content when atsushi walked in with a bunch of letters. who in the right mind would turn down free sweet treats? obviously not ranpo.

the waitress brings out pastries after pastries, and ranpo pushes his glasses up, acting like a food critic.

“hm, these scones are not sweet enough. the texture is too chewy.” he moves on and shoves a spoonful of gelato into his mouth. “i like the gelato. it’s sweet for my liking.” he nods approvingly, and you laugh, wiping the cream off the edge of his mouth. “slow down, the greatest food critic. we’re here to enjoy the desserts too.”

“if they don’t want to lose a customer like me, then i’d better say something about their recipe before their grand opening.” he’s got a point. you doubt he’d actually frequent this cafe, though, because he only came today for free desserts. you both get ramune to cleanse your palate afterwards (not that it helps).

main menu ☆

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wondernus · 2 years

Text

˗ˋˏ LIVE・ˎˊ˗

synopsis: having just finished composing a song a few hours ago, jihoon starts a live on his phone to sing to those who are feeling a little lonely at night. little does he know, your sleeping figure could be seen in the corner of his little livestream, causing his fans to go crazy.

pairing: ljh x reader

genre: fluff

tags: established relationship, public relationship, idol x non idol

wc: 1.24k

a/n: just a little something short I barely remember drafting at 4am. I haven't written an imagine in months so this was a nice change c: also squeezing a little something out of my braincells before I let my brain melt during the concert in a few days ahhh!!

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“I don’t really do this a lot,” he whispers while leaning forward in his seat to stare into his phone screen he set on his desk, propped loosely between his mechanical keyboard and his miniature sound board. “I usually upload videos, but I wanted to sing to you on live today.”

Thousands of hearts and messages pop up one after another, and Jihoon quickly reads through them as best as he can. Most of them are greetings from fans who are slowly joining his live, and some fans ask him why he’s whispering.

“Why am I whispering? It’s past midnight,” he chuckles. “I’m trying to keep my voice low so I don’t disturb anybody.”

His studio lights are off, and the LED lights color his studio in a lazy purple haze. Fans can see him rolling his seat over to the guitar rack near his work desk and return with an acoustic guitar. He tunes his strings a bit before positioning the capo on the neck of the guitar. He opens his desk drawer to grab a silicone guitar mute to tuck under his strings.

“Are you all getting ready to sleep?" his voice is tender and loving in this interaction. He finger picks a simple but sweet melody as he continues, "I wrote this a few hours ago and just wanted to share it with you tonight. Maybe it’ll bring comfort to those who are feeling a little lonely."

Jihoon was never the type of guy to act so caring in public and private. The most care he would show was to slap you on the back once in a while if you did something right. But him singing his fans to sleep? Him offering comfort in a time of loneliness? These are actions he would never do on his own before you came into his life. Now knowing what it feels like to have someone by his side, to have someone he never plans on letting go, he's become more sympathetic to others. He openly worries and cares for those who need that extra comfort.

“Where’s Yn? Ahh…” he awkwardly scratches his hair and shakes his head so that his hairs fall flat against his head. “Yn’s sleeping right now.”

There are replies about him avoiding the question, but he smiles into his lap while he hugs his guitar closer to his chest.

Despite the fact that your relationship with him has been public for a while, the two of you still choose to keep your relationship to yourselves. As much as his fans want to know more about Jihoon's love life, they respect the privacy of others. However, anybody can notice the positive changes your relationship has on him.

He seems happier - not exactly floating on cloud nine. Jihoon is not the type to do so, but he simply seems happier than he was before. There's a subtle type of warmth he exudes. He's smiling more than usual and pushing Soonyoung off him less in interviews. One time he patted Soonyoung’s hair while Soonyoung was leaning his head on his shoulder. It weirded out the older boy so much that he avoided Jihoon for the rest of the day.

In his studio, there is a tiny framed polaroid of the two of you smiling, cheeks touching and faces squished together, that leans against one of his large Bearbricks standing on his white cubed shelves. One of his minimized tabs on his desktop is a page for a Polaroid film bundle that comes with a mini photo album and a string with tiny clips to hang the photos on the wall. He thinks it would look good on the wall above the couch with tiny fairy lights. He’d probably hang pictures of his studio guests and his pictures of you on the strings once he has time to print them out.

He tells his fans to wait a few seconds while he pulls up the lyrics he finalized after you fell asleep. With nothing in mind but singing the song he wrote with you to his fans, he pulls his keyboard close to him. His phone slowly slides backwards onto his sound board, and his fans see nothing but the ceiling changing colors in slow waves from purple to blue. They hear him click on his mouse a few times before softly gasping when he notices his fallen phone.

He mumbles his apologies while propping his phone against whichever surface he finds. His head turns away from his livestream, checking on something behind him, but he quickly focuses back on his live. The phone is repositioned in a new angle that Jihoon isn’t really bothered to doublecheck as long as he is in the frame. It’s already pretty late, and he doesn’t want to keep his fans up for too long.

The song he sings is very short. With a simple down, down, up, down, down strum pattern, he sings about the feeling of having somebody he loves fall asleep on him. He describes the fear of moving when someone is resting on his shoulder – too afraid to wake them up. He wonders if they’re dreaming about him, if the version of him in their dreams is a better version of the real him. Casting doubts aside, he ends his song on a note about the difference between dream him and real him is that they chose to be with the real him.

There is a small but cheesy smile plastered on his face as he leans forward to look at the comments his fans are leaving. However, his smiling face turns into one of blatant confusion when he notices the chat box moving a lot quicker than usual. He can barely catch the comments as they zoom upwards along the left side of the screen. His mouth drops open and his eyebrows twist in confusion when the only comments he is able to catch are keyboard smashes and people talking about themselves crying. He awkwardly thanks his fans for staying awake and waves them goodnight before ending his livestream.

When he locks his phone, he turns around to look behind him. He sighs in relief when he sees you sleeping soundly on his old couch. He puts his guitar back on the guitar rack and makes his way over to you. He quietly squats in front of you, laughing through his nose when he sees the tiny pool of drool forming where the corner of your lips touch the cushion you’re using as a pillow. He readjusts his large jean jacket you’re using as a blanket and decides to quickly clean up around him before waking you up to go home with him.

Little does he know the two of you are trending on Twitter. There are screenshots and recordings of his live from when he was singing. More importantly, fans are going wild about seeing you sleeping soundly in the corner of his screen. Not only that, they notice his jacket draped over you, and you’re hugging a pair of matching plushies fans have deduced are supposed to represent the both of you. Many have already guessed that there was another person in the studio with Jihoon when he started whispering in his large studio and turned around to check on something. However, many are even happier to find out that the person was you.

A few hours later, Soonyoung posts a screenshot from the live with the caption: “When will it be my turn?”

forever taglist: @jiminismybabymochi, @anissanightyoung, @bat-shark-repellant, @woozarts, @jaycheoluwu, @staysstrays, @soobin-chois, @anothershorthuman, @hoohoohope, @bibinnieposts, @candidupped, @purpleglassesenthusiast, @seokshook

#wondernus imagines #woozi scenarios #jihoon scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #woozi fluff #jihoon fluff #seventeen x reader #woozi x reader #jihoon x reader #woozi imagines #jihoon imagines

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agerefandom · 5 months

Text

Sweet Little Trickster

Summary: A little story about a sleepy regressor!reader (they/them) being carried upstairs and tucked in by Fred and George

Fandom: Harry Potter

Words: 650

Content warnings: Reader uses they/them pronouns, nicknames used: kiddo, little tyke.

“Pssst, kiddo.”

The words make it through your sleepy head but aren’t enough to pull you into full awareness. You can feel something soft under your fingers: the familiar texture of your favourite stuffed animal, held against your chest. Your body is twisted into a bit of an uncomfortable shape, but you’re so warm and cozy that you don’t feel like moving.

“They’re definitely asleep,” says a familiar voice. You can hear the smile in their voice and it makes you happy, even drifting between sleep and consciousness.

“We should bring them to bed,” whispers a voice from the other side of you.

“Look at them, though,” the first voice says, and there’s a gentle hand touching the top of your head, just barely felt through your hair. “They’re proper conked out.”

“I’ll carry them,” the other replies. “C’mon, we won’t disturb them.”

Their voices have woken you up properly, but you keep your eyes closed and your breathing even. You want to know how they’re going to handle this. You recognize the voices as Fred and George: the memories of the evening are blurry, but you were having regression time with the two of them. You remember about half of a fairy tale, read by George with extra dramatic voices from Fred. You must have fallen asleep partway through.

“Alright, let me help.”

There was a muttered charm and you could feel your body get lighter, the strange part-weightlessness that came with a levitation charm. You had thought you had been leaning against the couch, but as it started to move behind you, you realized that it was one of the twins. He wrapped his arms around you, picking you up without any effort now that the levitation charm was helping.

The other twin laughed quietly, and you could feel a hand fixing your hair.

“Little tyke,” he whispered, fond. “Let’s head up to bed.” That was Fred, then, and George was the one carrying you. Only Fred used that nickname for you.

You let yourself rest, somewhere between floating and being carried, doing your best to pretend to be asleep as George carried you upstairs. You could hear Fred on the stairs behind you, close enough to maintain the charm.

Your stuffed animal almost fell to the side, and you forced yourself not to grab it. Thankfully, Fred darted forwards and resettled it onto your chest.

“Thanks,” George whispered, bumping his shoulder into his twin and jostling you slightly.

“Oi, careful,” Fred said, moving out of range. “You’ll wake them.”

“I won’t!”

“Shhhh!”

You heard George scoff, and then there was the creak of a door and George crossed a room, lying you down on a soft bed. You let your limbs settle where you were dropped, unable to stop the smile on your face as you felt the pillow beneath your head.

A hand on your forehead, and one of them pulled the blankets up and over you, enveloping you in soft warmth.

“Sleep well,” one of the twins whispered, retreating towards the doorway.

The other one leaned over the bed, you could feel his weight pushing the mattress down as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead where your hair had been smoothed back.

“Sweet dreams, kiddo,” George whispered. “You’re very cute when you pretend to sleep.”

He was walking away from the bed before you could process his words, but you grinned as the door closed, rolling over to scoop your stuffed animal into a more comfortable position. Of course the twins had known.

Still, they had carried you gently, with whispers and careful hands. Settled you into bed, sure to keep your stuffed animal in your arms.

You squeezed that stuffed animal, rubbing your cheek against its fur.

You loved them so much. They were so good to you.

Those thoughts were the ones that followed you into sleep, giving all of your dreams warmth.

#harry potter agere #agere writing #agere fic #fandom agere #regressor!reader #agere fanfiction #my writing #requests #sfw agere #harry potter

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maybe-limerence · 6 months

Text

Torment

Yandere! Forest god x Underworld god! Gender neutral! Reader x Platonic! Yandere! ???

We be flipping the Persephone/Hades roles with this one boys

TW: force feeding (mention), yandere behavior

Authors note: yeah, I got a little carried away with this one lol. Also, happy first day of Halloweek!

💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹

How long had it been since you were in the human world? Six.. seven.. maybe eight hundred years?

No matter, you had forgotten what the sun felt like beating on your face, what the grass felt like, what the flowers smelled like.

All of the things were so lovely it felt almost overwhelming.

You were wandering around the forest when you had cut your ankle slightly.

A rose bush.

The roses were slightly unnerving with how red they were, almost the color of fresh blood.

The more you looked at them, the more you became oblivious to your surroundings. You were never the most observant.

🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀

A pair of green eyes watched your movements thoughtfully.

You had to have been some sort of god, or at least favored by one, to have been that beautiful.

The forest god who overlooked the woods you were in had never seen someone who looked like you in the span of time they ruled.

They had to get a closer look.

💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹

A sudden breeze took up, ruffling your hair. The chill had you shivering.

You were too busy focusing on the cold that you neglected the fact the flower you were previously admiring had released a sweet smelling scent.

Your head began to spin, and a slight laugh echoed in your mind.

Your eyes began to shut as you fell on the grass, succumbing to the darkness of sleep.

🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀

You awake with a start, shooting up. You were in a.. cottage? Slowly getting up, you walk to the closest window and look out.

You quickly realized the cottage was in a tree. A very very tall tree.

Backing away from the window, you rack your brain in hopes of finding a reason you were in a tree cottage.

“Oh, you’re awake!” A voice calls.

You whip your head to look at where the voice came from.

A being stood before you. Red curly hair, green eyes, pale skin. Pointed ears, tree branches as horns, fairy like wings.

A forest god.

“Um, hi? Who are you?” You ask, confused.

“My name is not important,” they reply.

“Oh, ok. I’m not sure how I got up here.. did you take me here?”

“Yes, I did,”

“Why?” You shoot the god a worried glance.

“I wanted to get to know you, more specifically what you are.”

You let out a sigh, though you’re not sure if it’s of relief or nervousness.

“I am a death god, and I really must get going. I have du—,”

“No!” They shout, branches glowing slightly, disturbing a bird that was on the window ledge.

“Wh-what?” You ask, scooting away slightly.

“No,” they say in much calmer voice.

“Why not?!” You ask.

“Because, I haven’t seen someone like you before,”

“But I have duties!”

“They can wait!” The god insist.

“I don’t want to worry my father! He’s the king of the underworld, and he gets worried easily,” you continue.

“Well, I’m keeping you, that’s final,” they say, forcefully.

You pout, trying to think of a way out of this. You were never the best at strategies.

💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹

In the underworld, your father was growing anxious.

Pacing and chewing his nails, his closest adviser told him of your disappearance and who the believed to be the cause of it.

“A forest god?! What would a forest god want with my beloved child?!” You father yells.

“We-we don’t know sir,” the adviser says.

“I don’t care, just—“ your father drops to the floor. “— bring my child back to me,”

“We will sir.” The advisor leaves.

Your father rises from his knees, looking at the portrait of your late mother and you, when you were small.

“I can’t loose you too,”

🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀

You’ve been stuck in that cottage for a while, looking at the window.

You could’ve climbed out of there, but you don’t want to fall

You may have a god for a father, but your mother was a low ranking deity. You aren’t sure if you’d survive if you fell and you don’t want your father to be sad.

“Dear, come and eat!” The god calls.

You still have yet to eat, and you were growing hungry, but your defiant nature pushed it down.

“I’m not hungry!” You call back.

Footsteps echo the cottage and you are met with a disappointed look.

“Dear, you haven’t eaten since you’ve been here, I know you’re lying. What’s bothering you?”

“I’m just not hungry.” You turn back to the window.

A sinister aura pierces through the air and pricks at your skin.

You’re nervous but you don’t look at the god.

“You either eat with me, or I force feed you. You pick.”

You whip your head to look at them, noticing how they’re inches away from you.

You back closer to the window, frightened by the expression they’re making.

“What’s your choice?”

“I—“

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A winged individual flies through the forest, decay and rot following.

They were the leader of the Thanoi, a group of gods and goddesses who led the souls of the dead to their destinations in the underworld.

This one, the leader Thanatos, had grown close with you. He had been there when your mother died, he played with you when your father couldn’t, he took care of you. You were like his child.

And he wouldn’t allow someone to take his child.

🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀

“I—“

You continue to back away in fear, not accounting how close you were from the window ledge.

“What will it be?” The god asks.

“I’m truly not hun—“

“Oh Ophel~” a familiar voice calls.

Uncle Thanatos!

You take the moment of surprise to push past the god.. Ophel.. and run into your uncles arms.

“Heya kiddo!” Your uncle says, disregarding the god that is before them.

Snapping to their senses, they became enraged.

“What do you want, Thanatos?!” Ophel asks, pointedly.

“Well, the underworld hasn’t been as fun as it used to without the little heir running around!” Thanatos says with a cold smile “I’ve come to collect them!”

“No!” Ophel screeches.

“Well, you have no say in this, Αντίο!”

With that, you’re home.

💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹💀🌹

“Oh, my sweet child!” Your father calls, hugging you tightly.

“Hi papa!” You return the embrace.

You feel him shaking.

He’s crying. Don’t cry papa!

You give him a squeeze him softly.

“Please, don’t ever leave me again…” he whispers.

#yandere #darling #oc stuff #yandere x reader #maybe limerence #yandere x you #yandere x y/n

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yumekuro-en · 1 year

Text

Meister & Black Fairy Profiles - Nanashi & Blatt

Nanashi the mysterious thief & Blatt, the fairy who has a close connection with Nanashi, are the playable characters you can get from clearing Chapter 7 of the Main Story.

Nanashi does belong to a guild, but since he is not listed in any guild in his official profile (most likely due to spoilers), that’s why, we are also making this separate post for him & Blatt.