#angst drabble

[redd956]

Obsessed with the idea of an already wounded/exhausted character going "I... can take it." Like no bish you can't, but love enthusiasm and the horrified looks of your team.

[hanawoof]

MY MELODY

boyfriend!megumi x pianist girlfriend!reader

NOTES :: very short bc i needed to post, angst with comfort, fluff, piano mentioned, a little bit of my own headcanons and thoughts, reader is a lil sensitive and mistook megumi for a moment, fluff kinda not rlly..? … light angst to megumi - no comfort, reader and megumi are newly dating, mostly megumi centered

W/C :: 505

music notes filled the soft, evening air as you pressed keys down together. a light harmony you've picked up and learned at piano classes.

while megumi was propped up in a chair in the corner of the room, watching it all happen.

as he stared into the back of your head, memories started to make themselves known. closing his eyes and resting his head back, tuning in with the sounds of the piano.

''megumi, you have to listen, okay?'' tsumiki pleaded softly, perched at the middle-school's old piano. warm eyes looking over her shoulder and at the young boy entering the music room with deadpanned eyes.

''and i have to?'' the scratch of the chair echoed after megumi's voice, ''of course!'' the girl insisted, comically cracking her fingers.

her fingertips danced over the pale keys, before finally playing. ''i learned this for you,'' she muttered. ''after you found that music record apparently your mom used to listen to, it became your favourite, didn't it? you wished you could've met her..''

familiar notes from said song started to play, birds outside singing along with innocence.

and all he could do was just watch. listen. stare. hear.

megumi wasn’t the best at being grateful for things he did not ask for.

it didn’t mean he didn’t care, he was just lost for words; even if his face didn’t show any signs of it.

the young girl knew that, of course. she didn’t budge or pry about it, letting him shift over like a scared stray dog, sit beside her and lean against her side as she played.

but good things don’t last in this world. the world took tsumiki away. he grew colder.

a shaken whimper brought him back to reality. “i’m sorry, was it not good? i wasted your time didn’t i?” you clutched the song’s note sheets against your chest.

you weren’t like tsumiki, you didn’t know him like she did.

“no! no… no, don’t think like that.” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, a dash of blush on his cheeks. “i just… it was beautiful. it made me think of my older sister.”

“oh, it’s okay.” you smiled a little, relieved at the reassurance. “she plays the piano too?”

he tucked his hands in his pockets. there was no singing of sweet birds, instead, gusts of wind replacing their spots outside.

“she used to.”

“she stopped?”

he didn’t want to ruin the mood any further by bringing up her death.

“yeah.” the piano seat creaked underneath him as he sat beside you. “…could you teach me how to play some of these songs my sister used to?”

months of practicing, it was tsumiki’s birthday.

megumi rented out a small room with a piano in the middle.

just him and the memory of his sister as he sat and played the songs he learned.

“tsumiki, you have to listen, okay?” he whispered. trembling fingers messing up the rhythm, eyes wet.

a shaken sob echoed through the cramped room.

“i learned these for you.”

a/n ;; this is really bad, not proof-read at all but i got the motivation to finish ts

[angelltheninth]

Mark Grayson Sees You Get Hurt

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Reader

Tags: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, soothing kisses, teammates, injury, superheroes

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Mark has more than enough angst, but there could always be more!

"Hang on, we're almost there! Hey! Don't... don't close your eyes! Keep looking at me!" Mark's voice was drowned out by the constant pressure and ringing in your ears. The sound was all around you, together with the fading sounds of a fight dying down.

There was a flash of white, more voices all around you, Mark yelling, screaming your name, his worried, masked face before your eyes. You hoped that you gave him a smile as you touched his cheek. Mark's hand pressed against yours. It was bloody. Both your hands were. It was your blood, you knew it was, you could feel it running from your mouth, and somewhere around your stomach area.

A second later after realizing that you passed out, Mark's voice staying in your head, calling out to you.

You felt the warmth of his hand next, holding yours, but you were a little cold too. Groggy and disoriented you opened your eyes, seeing Mark pressing a worried hand against his head, the other was holding your hand. "Mark?"

Mark's eyes snapped up, red with tears, blame written all over his face. "You're awake." His voice sounded so small, so fragile, like it might break if more pressure was applied. "You had a fever after they finished patching you up but your healing factor seems to have kicked in. But... they told me... they told me if you lost anymore blood... that if I was too late bringing you here..."

"But you weren't late. You got me here in time, I knew you would." You smiled at him.

"No you didn't!" He banged his fist against the wall, cracking the surface. "You didn't know! I didn't know! I can't know! I can't- I can't-!" With both hands Mark hid his face from you as drop after drop of tears fell down despite it. "I almost lost you, and it was all my fault."

"It wasn't! We're heroes, Mark, we risk our lives so others can live safely, we knew what we were signing up for." You couldn't exactly yell over him, you were still too weak to. But you didn't want to fight either. Not over something like this. Slowly you took one of Mark's shaking hands in yours, feeling the cracked, rough skin.

Mark finally met your eyes again. "I never signed up for losing you."

"And you won't." You pulled Mark in for a slow, chaste kiss. He moved along, taking a seat next to you on the bed, careful not to interfere with the medical tubes or put any pressure on your injured body.

[2-dsimp]

“Wish upon a unicorn’s horn~❦ pt1(?)”

Synopsis: You were head over heels for a unicorn, the son of a noble family of alicorns living amongst the clouds. Admittedly he yearns for you, you were the magic to his crafted horn. However, his “friends” are envious of his high profile and seek to sabotage his only source of happiness in his stuffy posh lifestyle he’s forced to bare, you.

Tw: gn! commoner reader x yandere! noble unicorn, elite college setting, toxic friends, unhealthy relationships, angst, crushes, mutual pinning, obsessive tendencies, misunderstandings, coercion, discrimination, manipulation, drama,

•:•.•:•.••:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:

You loved Reine, that awkward unicorn boy from the mythical lands. His long silky curled strands of rainbow hair, those jeweled red eyes that sparked, the fair skin with freckles dotting it. His bigs ears and well managed tail.

The only problem was that he was rejecting your every single heartfelt confession. No matter how well thought out or sweet it was. You were so very persistent in conveying your love yet he brushed it off as a joke.

What you didn’t know was that his two fake friends, Malak and Lera were behind it. influencing him to commit cruel actions with each rejection. They were only friends with the dorky twerp because their parents wanted close relations. With Reine’s filthy rich cooperate family, the Unias. They were a famous magic craftsman business within the mythical realm for all races.

_____

Sure enough Reine always felt bad at seeing your reaction. you Never shed a tear and just kept smiling as always taking every rejection in stride. Gods you were so precious, he absolutely wanted to fold every time you’d bat your pretty lashes and say you loved him. Presenting him the most personalized gifts that he knew must’ve taken so much time and energy. Yet his friends would always tell him otherwise to trash your feelings in your face. And being the gullible unicorn he was he did it.

“H-how long do I have to keep playing hard to get? T-this had g-gone on long enough right? I know now that they really do love me! Reine would stutter, he really just wanted to finally accept your endless confessions with countless more of his own. “No matter what I’ve said, They’ve been loyal in trying to woo me all semester! ”

But He held back on the urge since his friends told him. that being mean and playing hard to get was supposed to make you even more hooked on him. Which is why he went along with their cruel schemes of begrudgingly rejecting you at every opportunity you presented. Each time more harsher than the last.

The poor unicorn, just wanted you to crave him even moreso than you do now. Till you were unable to live without him just as much as he couldn’t without you. His master bedroom was testament enough with posters, tapestries, and pages upon pages of every interaction you guys had. He was grossly obsessed with you.

His friends sneered at him, not believing how gullible the insecure unicorn was, they all took him as a joke. Malak hooked an arm around his shoulder.”don’t be too hasty milord, obviously we gotta do one final test to make sure they’re not after your pureblood status right Lera?”

Lera, joined him rolling her eyes at Reine for how utterly oblivious he was for falling for their trick in destroying his love life. “Mhm, and today’s Valentine’s Day! So get this, once your love toy comes over to confess reject them ruthlessly. If they actually love you, then they’d put up with it.”

“Huh? But what if everything backfires? I don’t know this doesn’t seem any good at all.” Reine stammered nervously, The unicorn boy’s horn glowed a nervous orange. sweating seeing you come around, the last thing he’d want to do is drive you away. He absolutely adored you! But his friends said it’d be okay in the end. He could trust them right?

Truth be told he’d always accept your gifts, after piecing them back together he’d store them in his dwelling to admire and read through the love letters with a lovesick sigh. He was an absolute hopeless romantic at heart. He would’ve accepted your confessions a hundred times over if it hadn’t been for his so called friends meddling.

“Oh don’t be a wuss you’ve managed to keep the act up since the start of first semester se it through to the end doofus” Malak chuffed, smacking Reine in the back launching him forward just to see you bounding towards him holding tons of gifts, but most importantly a decked out Valentine’s Day card letter.

“Yup this is the final test of her love for you, we’re just looking out for a fellow noble unicorn” Lera chuffed flipping her mane as she and Malak both shared a devilish grin about how successful they are to ruin his love life.

.

.

.

————————-

A/n: let me know if I’m cooking in my attempt at diving back to my wattapad era, for a pt 2. 🫡

[tmntxthings]

一∑Moth to a Flame・゜・。

author’s notes: this is my entry for @dancingdonatello ‘s competition :D this has been sm fun and I can’t wait to read everyone else’s stories!!!

prompt: "You like them...more? Is that it? Am I the second choice?" "That's not true..." "Then choose me. Choose us."

warnings: angst, situation-ship, aged-up characters, college au, alcohol consumption, jealousy, yandere tendencies? cliffhanger

—————————————————————————

Donnie didn’t know how much more he could take. His mind was simultaneously all over the place and singularly focused on one thing. You.

~

Mutants and yokai kind alike have been out for years. So in the ‘town’ he and his brothers grew up in, they finally came to be free from the shadows. As free as heroes can be at least. They still needed to be a bit secretive on where they lived, in case of revenge-seeking villains.

But with mutants out on the surface, New York had grown accustom to them. Well, as accustom as they can be…

Donnie has met many people. He’s been able to attend college. Mostly online. But he finds the time to attend some evening classes in person. He met you. A floundering classmate in need of assistance.

Usually Donnie can find an excuse to get out of helping every poor soul that crosses his path. That’s what the professors are for. The librarians. Hell the student mentors! But with you… he just couldn’t resist.

The study sessions were long. But in the end you were able to pass, “All thanks to you Dee!!” You had cheered shoving your research paper into his face for him to appraise your passing grade. Barely passing, but it showed your improvement nonetheless.

He had been about to tease you of this. Three months of his help and you hardly grazed by?! But the thought was cut short as you pulled the papers away from his face and up you jumped.

Arms going around his neck and squealing your joy. He was frozen for a millisecond before his arms twitched into motion. His hands going around your back, holding you. That was the first time you had initiated such skin-ship.

Sure there had been the occasional touching of hands, passing laptops, books and the like back and forth. There had even been moments of playful touch, nudging his arm with your elbow for his odd choice in coffee. A tap above his glasses when he got too focused on his own work to answer your sporadic questions.

The hug didn’t last very long in terms of time. Seconds merely. But it made a lasting impression on Donnie. With the class over, you had no other reason to see him again. The prospect had Donnie fumbling to invite you out, to do anything to prolong such an ending to this blooming relationship.

“What classes are you taking next semester?” He had asked. You promised to text him the list, already having to dash off for one last exam.

He worried that would be the end.

Thankfully it wasn’t. You texted him later that evening, telling him all about the rest of your day as well as the list per his request. Unfortunately the two of you didn’t share any other classes. And it seemed unlikely for the future as well, the two of you were on diverging paths. Donnie despaired.

But you found reasons to message him. By the time the next semester rolled around the two of you were study partners, no matter the subject. Donnie would help if he could, and usually he was able. But there was a shift in the relationship. Outings to the library and other study areas changed to coffee shops. Then to your place. It only felt natural to invite you over to his.

Preparations were put in place. As were warnings “Yes, I do live in a sewer with my brothers and dad.” And “No it doesn’t reek of waste or garbage.” And “Yes there is one rat actually, my dear Papa.”

You took it all in stride. The introductions to his family went as well as they ever did. Friends. The two of you were officially friends. Donnie couldn’t be happier. With such a title he took more initiative with online contact. His messages would ramble on, sprinkled with pictures and videos.

Semesters continued to pass by and the bond between the two of you only grew. In turn, with more trips to his home, you became friends with his brothers. With April. It was just natural.

And then there was graduation. A celebration was in order. Four years, you had been in his life for four years and he couldn’t imagine it without you. The plan was to dress to the nines, and go out on the ‘town’! Drinking and dancing.

Of course, his brothers were invited as well as a few of your other friends. Donnie was no stranger to clubbing. The bar scene had become somewhat of a regular occurrence once his friendship with you was solidified.

You liked to go out. You liked music. He obliged on a few occasions to be your dancing partner and thus every time after it was his official label. Donnie was adverse to the huge crowds. It didn’t offer much room for dancing, but he’d endure it for you. With you in his arms it all seemed bearable. The music that was so loud it thumped in his plastron. The heat in the room percolating from the sheer number of bodies. Even the taste of alcohol, on the very, very rare occasion you got him to drink.

It always tasted horrible. No matter the different shots or mixed cocktails. God forbid a beer. You had pushed all sorts of these beverages on him, eyes crinkling up at him with amusement as his beak wrinkled from disgust.

Those nights with alcohol involved always ended strangely. Your touch would light him up from the inside. He’d want to hold you closer, lean in as far as you’d let him. Pull at your waist, dig his fingers into your hips during the last dance before the two of you had to part for the night. Those nights ended with kisses.

And by the next day you would never talk about them. So he didn’t either. Even as his murky memory of all other events seemed to part with clarity for how you had panted heat into his mouth. He’d flush dark green at just the thought and have to swallow the spit that pooled in his mouth.

This had happened a handful of times. The kissing. And with no communication whatsoever afterwards it put Donnie on edge. He wondered why it happened at all if you didn’t want to acknowledge the deed once it was done. He wondered about what it said on account of his own self worth for him to continue to let it happen.

To look forward to nights out. To nights you pushed a shot glass his way. To want your lips on his by the end of it all.

So with this big celebration, Donnie was expecting the same routine if only highlighted by the fact that both of you were now graduates. He’d be your dance partner. The two of you would spin for an hour or two, or however long you wanted. And he’d order himself a drink this time. One that he found slightly bearable than the rest.

Only, that wasn’t what was happening. Drink in hand? Sure. Your hand in his other? No. He was grumbling over at the bar shooting hateful daggers where you resided on the dance floor. You were dancing with Leo.

Donnie grimaced as he took a long hard sip. It was like acid in his mouth. Donnie didn’t know how much more he could take. His mind was simultaneously all over the place and singularly focused on one thing. You.

You laughing as Leo twirled you around. How wrong it felt to watch your arms go up and around his brother’s neck. Donnie was a better dancer. He knew in his soul that he could beat Leo in any category. Waltz, disco, salsa, you name it, Donnie could dance it. But his prowess didn’t seem to matter. Which only further incensed him. Why were you doing this? How could you possibly allow Nardo to take his place? His rightful role. Donnie was supposed to be your dance partner. And the only time you were allowed to dance with another was whenever he deigned to skip such an outing.

He was here. Dressed in an aubergine suit. Jacket button undone. And his black dress shirt was unbuttoned as well. Three buttons plucked, showing off too much skin in his opinion for such a crowd. But he had been feeling flirty. Flirty for someone who wasn’t even glancing his way.

Donnie fumed once more. Cursing in his mind as he lifted his drink and threw his head back. Maybe the taste would kill him. His eyes squeezed shut as the liquid poured down his throat and he tried not to gag. Bad decision.

When his eyes reopened it couldn’t have been at a worse moment. Leo was dipping you, his face leaning dangerously close to yours, his hand snug on your waist. Leo said something in your ear.

Maybe it was the lighting. Maybe it was the heat. But when Donnie saw your darkened cheeks, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He stormed to the dance floor. Yanking Leo’s hand away from your body once you were upright.

“What’s up hermano?” Leo’s smile was grating. Donnie had to force himself not to snarl. He took your hand and pulled you after him. Leaving Leo. Leaving this place. He had to get out of here now.

“Donnie?!” You called out over the music. But you didn’t pull away. You let him lead you out of the club. Out on the sidewalk, then off to the alleyway.

“Is everything okay?” You asked once he finally stopped. When he turned to look down at you, your eyebrows were creased with worry. Lips pulled into a line. Donnie was cracking. He couldn’t do this any longer. Did you like Leo? Did you want a ‘face man’? Was he not enough anymore? Was he being replaced? The thoughts were suffocating him and he pulled you to his plastron, backing you into the building wall simultaneously.

“I’m here, but Dee you’ve gotta say something, I’m getting worried..” You mumbled into his clothes. Your arms going around Donnie’s shell, petting over his jacket. Offering him comfort. It wasn’t enough. He huffed his frustration.

“Should I go get your brother?”

It was the wrong thing to say. And this time he did snarl.

“No.”

Your hands froze. Falling back down to your sides. You’d never heard him so angry before. He couldn’t find it within himself to care at the moment. His displeasure written all over his face as you looked up at him.

“What’s going on?”

And Donnie remembered himself thinking that so many times with you. As you had took his breath away. And then again when you pretended like you couldn’t recall ever doing so.

“Don-“

He leaned down. Capturing your lips. Kissing you like you did to him. Only where you had made him breathless, this seemed to have the opposite effect. You puffed up. Bristling in his arms as you tried shoving him away.

It hurt.

He was much stronger than you. He could overpower you easily. But your push was like a blow to the plastron. He staggered back, all anger leaving him. A husk as he squeezed his fists shut, head hanging down as you berated him.

“What the hell was that?! Are you drunk?? Donnie what is going on? If you don’t fucking say something right now, I swear to god,”

“I don’t know!” He shouted back and it was enough to quiet you.

From there it was as if his mouth couldn’t be stopped. “I don’t know! I thought this was what we did. I didn’t hallucinate those three times you kissed me. Don’t deny it any longer!” He was heaving, face coming up to stare accusingly at you.

Your lips pressed together in a thin line once more.

“You kissed me! Drunkenly, but it was still there. And I can’t forget. I can’t pretend they never happened. I don’t know how you can.” His hands were in motion as he ranted. Throwing them out with the building of emotion.

“So I thought tonight would be no different. We’d get drunk. We’d dance. And we’d kiss! I want all of that. Even though I’d do it without the alcohol.” His voice cracked towards the end. But he continued to push on.

“But you danced with him. So I went and got drunk enough for the both of us.” He felt pathetic admitting this out loud. He staggered forward, unable to remain so far apart. Despite you having pushed him away. He was just a moth to your flame. He’d let himself be burnt.

“You like him more?” He asked in a voice so low it practically went unheard. His hand came up, a finger tracing down the side of your cheek.

“Is that it? Am I the second choice?” His lids lowered in time as he ran out of skin to skim. His hand fell away from your face but he had crowded you close to the wall again. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

“That’s not true.” You exasperated. But that hardly cleared up anything for him. If that was the case then what were you doing dancing with his brother and not him? Why couldn’t he kiss you? Why were the both of you still pretending to be friends?

“Then pick me. Choose me.” Donnie pleaded. He didn’t care how needy it sounded. He’d do whatever it took. Get down on his knees if he had to. Because you had become a part of his life four years ago. Four years of a presence he didn’t know he needed. Up until it was far too late. And now there was no turning back. He’d be damned if he let you get away.

[ruusawa]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓎 4 𝓎ℴ𝓊⊹ ࣪ ˖

✶⋆.˚ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ 

✶⋆.˚ᴹᵃʳᵏ ᴳʳᵃʸˢᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ

Mark Grayson was pretty. That was a fact. Another fact was that he had a girlfriend. So when you heard Mark had split with said girlfriend, Amber, you’d learnt her name was, this was your chance. Mark’s birthday was the perfect excuse to throw a party for him. You didn’t care about your fellow heroes you had invited who were halfway to completely slaughtered (Cecil can go fuck himself, you all deserved a night off), or about the fact that Rex had just split a bright blue vodka on your cream carpet (you were never getting that deposit back anyway), you only cared that Mark wasn’t here yet. 

You wait by your window, hoping to catch a glimpse of him soaring through the sky to get to your shitty one bed. Would it be too much to fly out of the window to greet him when he showed up? Probably, you had to play this cool. You tap nervously against the solo cup in your hand, the sweet mixture of pop and alcohol already half downed. 

Your eyes scan the dark sky and– there. There, Mark was. He flies up to the window with ease, the wind shifts his clothes, causing his sweater to ride up, revealing just a tease of hard muscle under soft skin. 

Mark smiles as you open the window for him, “Thought you weren’t gonna make it to your own party.”

Mark smiles, that stupidly pretty smile that causes the corners of his eyes to crinkle, giving you such a soft look, like you mean something. Mark lets out a slightly awkward laugh. “Yeah, sorry, dinner with my mom, you know how it is.”

Your stomach does a weird flip-flop. Fuck, he’s so pretty. Too pretty. It takes you a moment to realise you’ve been silent for too long, just staring at Mark’s stupidly perfect face. “Oh, yeah, no, I know how it is.” Smooth, real smooth. 

You lead Mark into the kitchen, which is exactly four steps from the window, and to where all the alcohol is set up. Set up is probably a strong word; there’s a mess of bottles containing mixers, drink, and who knows what else littering your kitchen counter.  “What can I get ya?” you ask, ever the host. You pour Mark a drink of something, honestly, you don’t even know what’s in that bottle.

Mark thanks you, but then he sees her.

It's like time slows down, and you can see every detail of his expression morph. Mark’s cheeks flush, just that barely noticeable amount of colour. His eyes widen, just a fraction, pupils dilating to drink more of her in. His smile gets bigger, softer, prettier. 

Mark Grayson looks at Eve Wilkins like she’d personally hung every star in the sky for him (it doesn’t help that Eve probably could make stars for Mark if she really wanted). 

Ouch. Just… ouch. 

You can’t help but watch as Mark orbits around Eve, like she’s the gravity keeping him tethered to Earth. 

It doesn’t matter that you threw this party for him, Mark Grayson adores Eve Wilkins, not you. And isn’t that just the shittiest thing. 

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀:¨ ·.· ¨: ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ `· . 𐙚

this is my first work so if anyone has any criticism and tips on how to improve i'd love to hear it.

might write a happy ending to this i don't know

yes , this was was inspired by charli xcx party 4 you and the tiktok trend it’s had me in a ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ chokehold ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

[miyamor]

❝ HALF A HEART; ❞

۶ৎ ft. d. kaminari navigation mha masterlist

۶ৎ there are times even cupid runs out of arrows, and so he only shoots one person instead of a pair.

denki always was the yearner. that's why when you texted that you wanted to meet him at your usual cafe this afternoon, he wasted no time getting in the shower to freshen up. he made sure to wear his newest t-shirt, courtesy of mina forcing him out of his apartment the other day for a shopping spree.

he now sits at the table farthest from the busiest area of the cafe. usually he likes being surrounded by large crowds. the mixed conversations that surrounded him calmed his nerves, usually caused by the caffeine he drank anyway. but the way you messaged him tells him that it would be better if the two of you sat away from the crowd.

the clock strikes 3:14 and he looks up from his now cold coffee to look at the cafe's entrance with hope. a second passes and he looks back down at his cup with a sigh. you asked to meet him here at 3, what's taking you so long? and as if on cue, the bell hanging from the door frame rings.

"denki!" he looks up again, his eyes now filled with more hope than ever before. you were as beautiful as he last saw you. and oh, you were wearing the dress he absolutely adored on you. he absolutely adored you.

"hey there." it took him a while but he was able to get his act together and greet you like a decent human being. "come, sit."

he hasn't stopped smiling ever since you walked in. how could he? you kept smiling at him too. the worst part is that your eyes never left his either. his cheeks were starting to hurt.

"sooo" he missed your voice.

"so?" from the moment he saw your text, he's been eager to know what you were so excited to tell him about. you haven't asked him to meet up in so long, after all. the possibilities of what you were going to tell him were endless. you were talking about something that happened during your hangout with sero the day before. unfortunately, denki was drowning in his own thoughts to pay mind to anything you were saying.

were you finally going to come with him to that convention he's been telling you so long about? did you get him that figurine you've been promising him for weeks now? did you finally like him back?

"we're going on another date tomorrow!" huh? denki was pulled out of his now overwhelming thoughts. he forced a smile back on his lips and made sure to look you in the eyes.

"another date? with who?" he tried to stay optimistic, convincing himself that you were talking about him. maybe you considered this a date? that's why you were saying you were going on another one tomorrow, yeah.

"I just told you, denks. hanta and I just had the best time yesterday! he promised to win me more plushies at the arcade tomorrow." you took a sip out of his coffee, a smile still evident on your lips. the smile he tried so hard to keep on his face finally fell. hanta?

"oh."

"oh? come on now denks, aren't you happy I'm going out with your best friend?" but you were his best friend. and it would actually be better if he was the one going out with you. he can win you all those plushies just as much as sero can.

"I absolutely am happy for you, I always am, darling." the difference between his smile now and the one he had earlier was that it made his cheeks hurt even more. who knew faking a smile could hurt so much?

he should've chosen a table closer to all those people. that way, maybe the way his heart cracked won't be as loud.

a/n: rustyrustyrusty

© miyamor 2025 please do not edit, translate, or repost onto any other platform

[miakatedotcom]

hello! apologies if this is too dark but could you do prompts for scenarios in which character A might think character B has been hurt/killed but they haven’t actually? thank you!

[a/n - heyyy first ask to kick off the new year! had fun writing these, aka i'm horrible at writing angst bc i CRAVE comfort. anywho my asks are always open if you have any requests!]

"thought i lost you" prompts ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

'nobody's promised tomorrow, so i'ma love you every night like it's the last night' ⋆˚ʚɞ

A saw the text message from someone who claimed they saw the whole thing and their heart immediately drops

A replays every conversation, every inside joke, every small fight

they imagine the worst, tears welling, fingers trembling

they run, sprint, call B's name until they're throat is hoarse

B is waiting at the door, alive, hair messy, smirking like it's all one big joke

"you ass" A says, collapsing into B, laughter and sobs mixing, unable to separate relief from panic

B holds them steady, brushing their back, whispering "i'm right here"

they grip each other too tight, a silent promise to never let go

the fear lingers for a while, a reminder of how fragile this whole situation is