Yandere Pidge Headcanons
Is this what writers block feels like?💔 also I think I made this more platonic than anything so enjoy that😍🫶
You guys first met and became friends when you attended the Garrison, knowing Pidge longer than Lance and Hunk!
This automatically makes Pidge feel entitled to you and your time
Because you’ve known Pidge the longest you trust her the most, which she takes advantage of
Pidge is the first person you run to with any problem, whenever you’re upset about something
If it’s regarding one of the paladins, Pidge would definitely use them as an example of what to avoid so she stays on your good side
But just know if it’s something serious, like you wanting to leave the group or if you begin suspecting something about the groups weird behavior, Pidge won’t hesitate to reveal all your secrets and conversations with everyone
She’s also lowkey emotionally distant, so she can’t really relate to any intense emotions you go to her with
This causes a drift between the both of you since now you go to someone else whenever you’re feeling upset, like Shiro, making her really jealous
Fully believes that you should rely on her if you have any concerns
Even if she can’t… help that much…
If you do decide to go to someone else, expect her to become a little more uhh… touchy
She’s so possessive over you
She would make you feel bad for trying to go to someone else when she’s so obviously right there
I mean, Pidge was trying to be a good friend but she guesses that wasn’t enough for you
She doesn’t understand your emotions but she 100% percent expects you to understand and listen to her
She’s become so attached to you that you quite literally cannot go anywhere with Pidge right next to you
Missions, exploring planets, even just chilling in the castle, Pidge is hovering right beside you, because that’s what best friends do, right?
Best friends are always together :)
So when the rare occurrence happens when you both are separated Pidge is still able to track where you are with the secret tracker she placed on you
You would never suspect that the bracelet Pidge gifted you would be the reason on how she is always able to find where you are, no matter the situation or location
Kinda manipulates you into being around her by saying you’re the last familiar thing she has to home since her brother and father were taken from her and being so far from earth (it does make you feel guilty so you don’t question her odd behaviors)
If you get injured during a mission Pidge loses it
There’s no way the last person she cares is going to be taken for her
She is ruthless when protecting you, she’s probably already convinced Shiro andmaybe Hunk to help guard you during dangerous missions!
No cuz the group would do anything for Pidge, which means helping keep you trapped with her💔
When Pidge is around, do not expect to get a say in anything regarding you
She fully believes she knows better than you
So just sit back and look pretty while she does all the hard work, she can be the brains for both of you
Also I get a feeling that Pidge might like the idea of you in general
Having someone to lean on while she’s going through her stuff just settles the nagging anxiety constantly following her
Taking care of someone else instead of being the one taken care of
In all, Pidge just wants to keep you safe and take care of you
She doesn’t know how to do this though which can make her come off as controlling but she swears it’s for the best!!
And who knows, maybe her obsession may rub off on her family too…
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3.2K
Summary: request [paraphrased]: "Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian..."
the 'verse continues in "the train ain't even left the station" [AO3]
“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?” At once, the three of you freeze. “Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?” “I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”
“Can you please remind me again why I’m even a part of this harebrained scheme?” you ask for at least the third time.
You’re crouched around a small table in one of the far corners of the upper section of the Library. It’s well past curfew, but since you aren’t technically breaking any rules by avoiding the Restricted Section, you’re currently getting away with your loitering, as do most students who are caught studying after hours this close to final exams.
Only, you’re not studying. You’ve been summoned there by Ominis, who despite being your closest friend at Hogwarts is also a conniving, duplicitous liar who neglected to tell you that this whole thing is Sebastian’s idea.
You watch warily as he turns over a contraband Time-Turner in his hands, inspecting its impossibly small dials and knobs. The golden sands inside the hourglass hypnotically shift back and forth while he reads over its inscriptions and consults the guidebook he’d smuggled out of the Restricted Section earlier that same day.
You have no idea where he managed to get the device – perhaps in one of those vaults along the coast in Cragcroftshire that he’d been exploring during the summer term. However, now he’s got it in his head that perhaps the reason you haven’t been able to heal Anne is that the cure to her curse simply hasn’t been invented yet. Therefore, a quick jaunt several years into the future ought to reveal a way to rid Anne of her illness (and maybe even earn his way back into her good graces).
It’s not the first ludicrous and impractical idea he’s had in the past year, nor will it be the last, but it’s certainly one of the more radical ones.
“Merlin’s beard, I’ve already told you,” Sebastian sighs. “Since we’re going forward in time rather than back, this is an unauthorized use, and in case we get stuck in the future, we might need your ancient magic.”
“So I’m an insurance policy?!” you demand.
“Not so much for Sebastian as for me,” Ominis answers plainly. “He thinks he’s got it all sorted out, but I’m not as sure.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Sebastian interjects.
You huff and roll your eyes. “Need I remind you that using a Time-Turner to go forward is expressly forbidden by the Ministry? It’s only to go back.”
“Loads of people have done it, though,” he argues. “I’ve been reading all about it, it’s well-documented.”
“And they’ve all come back to the present?” you demand.
“Yes,” he snaps. “...For the most part.”
You scoff. Unbelievable.
“Do you two honestly think my magic is just an unlimited get-out-of-Azkaban-free pass?” you hiss. “I have no idea how to manipulate time and space. If we get stuck there, we’re stuck there.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out like you always do,” Sebastian mutters distractedly as he fiddles with the Time-Turner.
You glance at Ominis pleadingly and he just shrugs.
“You know we can’t let him go alone, we’ll never get him back,” Ominis reasons.
“Is that such a bad thing?” you grumble.
Sebastian shoots you a warning look before he holds up the Time-Turner for the both of you to inspect.
“I have it set to jump forward twenty years,” he explains. “We’ll have to get cozy before we go, as we’ve all got to be wearing it. Physically, we’ll land precisely where we are now, at the same time of day.”
“What if the layout of the Library changes?” you ask skeptically.
“The castle hasn’t changed in centuries,” Ominis points out. “Compared to its history, two decades is indeed quite short.”
“...Fine,” you finally mumble. “Go on, then. Let’s get this over with.”
The three of you stand in a tight circle in a spot tucked away behind some shelves, hoping to remain hidden there after you make the jump forward in time. Sebastian drapes the thin gold chain connected to the Time-Turner around the three of you; it even seems to stretch and extend in length to fit. Then he murmurs a brief incantation to the enchanted timepiece and spins the innermost piece a whopping twenty times.
Your stomach lurches while it turns over and the world around you seems to spin out of control, almost like one of those Muggle carousel rides you saw once as a child. You can barely make out years and years of students and professors walking around you – through you, even – and countless books sliding on and off the shelves until everything comes to a sudden halt and you fall straight to the floor.
Ominis and Sebastian tumble with you, winded.
“That felt bizarre,” Ominis wheezes. “Where are we? Did we travel anywhere?”
“N-no,” Sebastian breathes. “Everything else just… traveled around us.”
You glance around the Library and see that as Ominis had suggested, it looks largely the same. There are some newer books among those you recognize on the shelves, their spines less creased and dyed with more vibrant colors than those of your time.
One title jumps out at you: Advances in Practical Conjuring, 1900-1910
We’re in the 1910s, you think bewilderedly. We’re in a new century.
Mercifully, the layout of the library seems to be largely unchanged. Rows and rows of dimly lit stacks stretch along the length of the grand room with two winding spiral staircases leading down to the lower level.
Once you catch your breath, the three of you cast Disillusionment on yourselves and huddle together to make your way downstairs to the Restricted Section. Ominis leads the way with his wand extended to search for any lingering students or restless ghosts, having long since proven that his spatial awareness bests both yours and Sebastian’s even without his sight.
Your trio makes it downstairs and past the first row of shelves before Ominis stops in his tracks. Sebastian collides with him and then you knock into Sebastian, causing you both to hiss some choice words at each other.
“What’s going on?” you demand in a whisper.
“Someone just came in,” Ominis explains. “The librarian is at the desk and she hasn’t noticed, but a student is coming down the stairs.”
Sure enough, across the room you see a faint flicker of light and can just barely make out the outline of a small student sneaking down the main stairs – must be a young one, you think, no more than thirteen.
“I think it’s a girl,” you offer. “I can see her just over there.”
“What’s she doing?” Sebastian whispers.
“I’m not sure yet,” Ominis says carefully. “She’s past the desk, the librarian didn’t see – oh, for Merlin’s sake.”
“What is it?” you breathe.
“She’s going straight for the Restricted Section,” Ominis mutters. “Just our luck, I suppose.”
The three of you remain crouched behind the shelf while you watch the girl creep ever closer to your hiding spot. You’re panicking inside your head, wondering what possible seams of the universe might immediately be torn to shreds if she were to spot the three of you, but thankfully she seems single-minded in her mission to gain access to the locked collection of books across the room from you.
“She’s tiny,” Sebastian snorts. “I suppose the young ones are even more bold in the future.”
“Weren’t you about her age when you first started to sneak into the Restricted Section?” Ominis reminds him.
Sebastian insists, “No, I was fourteen. I didn’t go in until Anne was attacked. She’s got to be twelve at most, maybe even a first year.”
“Will you two be quiet?” you hiss. “She’s going to hear you!”
Across the room, the Disillusioned girl pulls a key out of the pocket of her robes and starts to insert it into the lock. A girl her age wouldn’t have mastered Alohomora yet, you think, nor would it be effective on this kind of lock. You have no idea how she managed to get a copy of the key, however.
“Do you suppose we could just go in after her?” Sebastian proposes. “She’s nearly got it open, we should take advantage of that.”
“Are you mad?” you scoff. “We can’t be in there at the same time, we’ll get caught!”
“So what if some little girl from the future sees us?” Sebastian argues. “Why wouldn’t she believe we’re just students from her time doing our own research?”
But before you can further explain to Sebastian how astonishingly stupid that idea is, the girl across the room gasps softly and drops her key to the floor. In front of her, the lock is glowing red as if it’s searing hot.
That’s a new security development from your time, you think. It’s rather lucky the three of you didn’t discover that the hard way.
Immediately, the young librarian leaps from her seat and hustles across the room to the Restricted Section’s gated entrance much faster than Madam Scribner ever would have.
“Hang on…” you say under your breath. “Is that – that’s Sophronia!”
“Who?” Ominis asks.
“Sophronia Franklin, she’s a fourth-year in our time,” you explain distractedly. “She’s always lingering in the library, of course she takes over for Scribner once we finish school.”
“I know her,” Sebastian chimes in. “Tried to get me to play a game of trivia in exchange for returning a book on curse breaking I’d been waiting for. Rather precocious, I thought.”
You glare at Sebastian and he merely rolls his eyes.
“I didn’t mean it in a flirtatious way, I was referring to her choice in books,” he grumbles. “Merlin, you’re protective of her.”
“She’s a sweet girl,” you murmur, appreciative of the fact that Sebastian can’t see you blushing. Truthfully, you don’t think much about Sophronia these days, other than that she absolutely cannot catch the three of you in her Library as she’ll easily understand what you’re up to.
Before you can try to convince the boys to call it quits and return to the present, Sophronia rounds the corner and the girl’s Disillusionment charm melts away in surprise.
“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?”
At once, the three of you freeze.
“Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?”
“I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”
“Apologies, Madam,” you hear the girl say with a cheeky lilt to her voice. “I was just looking for a book for my aunt, that’s all.”
Just then, Sophronia leans down to pick up the dropped key and all three of you catch a glimpse of the young girl’s face. She’s probably around twelve, like Sebastian had guessed, but her face… Merlin, she could be your younger sister.
Her slightly-upturned nose is nearly identical to yours, only she’s got a small smattering of freckles across hers. Then there’s her chin, which juts out just a bit like yours does, and you’re too far away to make out the color of her eyes but you’re positive that they’re almond-shaped just like your own.
Now that you think about it, her hair is tied back like you always did with yours when you were younger – braided with a green bow at the end, only her hair is a rich, warm brown color.
“...Is that you?” Sebastian asks softly. “How. How are you doing this?”
“That’s not me, I’m right here,” you remind him.
“Hold on, what am I missing?” Ominis whispers.
“That girl looks exactly like this one,” Sebastian insists. “She’s got her nose, her eyes, her face shape. It’s like there’s a second-year version of her, standing right across from us.”
“We’re twenty years into the future,” Ominis reminds you both. “...What if she’s your daughter?”
You feel like the room is starting to spin around you again, and you find yourself pitching to the side before Sebastian quickly tugs on your arm and pulls you back behind the shelf.
“Do not go daft on us now,” he mutters. “I don’t care if that is your daughter–”
“She’s your daughter too, you know,” Ominis chimes in. “In case you were wondering.”
“Wh… What?” Sebastian stutters, and Ominis gestures for the two of you to listen in.
“Goodness, Miss Sallow,” Sophronia sighs. “You really are so much like your father, always sneaking into the Restricted Section.”
You watch as the girl puffs up her chest proudly, a mischievous smirk on her face that doesn’t strike you as particularly like you at all – but rather Sebastian.
“I’ll gladly take that as a compliment, Madam Franklin,” Anne-Marie says.
“While I respect that you are both voracious consumers of knowledge, he, like you, had little respect for the rules of the Restricted Section,” Sophronia continues. “I’ll have to ask you to leave until you get permission from a professor for relevant research or turn fifteen.”
Anne-Marie is still arguing with the librarian as she’s being escorted out. “Perhaps if you would just let me borrow the book for a while–”
“I’m afraid I’ll also have to give you detention this time,” Sophronia interjects. “I can’t keep looking the other way simply because I owe your mother a favor. This is the third time this term!”
Anne-Marie huffs and folds her arms. “But my godfather–”
“Your godfather is a very busy man who would undoubtedly appreciate it if you spent more time staying out of trouble,” Sophronia finishes, “than trying to emulate your father. In fact, I think Ominis would agree with me that one Sebastian Sallow in this world is quite enough!”
Well, that certainly clears things up.
Sophoronia marches Anne-Marie up the stairs and out of the library. The three of you, having already forgotten your original mission, put your heads together without a word so Sebastian can drape the Time-Turner around your necks and return you to the present.
You collapse in a heap on the library floor, but this time it’s fully empty – even the librarian’s desk light is extinguished. You sit in silence for a few moments, and you and Sebastian don’t dare look at each other. Eventually you force yourself to stand and offer Ominis a hand up, steadfastly ignoring the other boy.
“So,” Ominis finally says, barely concealing his smile. “When exactly is it, do you suppose, that the two of you fall hopelessly in love with each other?”
You both curse at him at the same time, and Ominis throws back his head and laughs.
“Shout at me all you want, but that little girl is proof that the two of you are destined for each other,” he crows. “Oh, how brilliant!”
“Come now, Ominis,” Sebastian says with a nervous laugh. “You don’t seriously think that girl is, what… our child or something?”
“That’s precisely what I think,” Ominous answers, smirking. “You said it yourself, she looks exactly like her mother.”
“Stop!” you interject. “I’m not anyone’s mother, in case you forgot.”
“Perhaps not yet,” Ominis agrees primly. “I imagine it will be several more years before Sebastian makes you one.”
Sebastian goes deeply red while you sputter indignantly.
“Thats – that’s foul, Ominis,” you insist. “It’s untoward to even be talking about this!”
Sebastian folds his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re that offended by the very idea of us having a child together? I’m hurt.”
“W-well, I just meant that we shouldn’t talk about things that haven’t yet come to pass,” you explain nervously. “Besides, all that is years away. Decades, even.”
Sebastian glances sidelong at you, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way he looks you up and down.
“Right,” he says slowly. “It’s not like we know anything for sure, obviously.”
“Of course,” you agree. “...I don’t suppose you have any other family members named Sebastian? Distant relatives, perhaps?”
“Why?” he drawls. “Looking to snag a cousin of mine so I won’t be the one to father your children?”
You shove him right into one of the bookshelves, but he laughs like he doesn’t regret it one bit.
“Now now,” Ominis murmurs. “You ought to be kind to your future husband, you don’t want to damage his virility.”
“I have half a mind to put a dent in Sebastian’s virility right here and now to save me some trouble later,” you reply, casually aiming your wand at his groin.
“Have you gone mad?!” he stammers as he takes several steps backward. “Put that thing away!”
“Oh, will you please relax?” you sigh. “We just saw one of your descendants, your ability to procreate is in no danger.”
“You could still put me in the Hospital Wing,” he sulks. “Besides, it’s not just procreation that I use it for.”
Ominis snorts. “Unfortunately, I am intimately aware of that.”
You make a face while Sebastian grins cheekily, offering no apology.
The three of you start to make your way toward the exit into Central Hall, ignoring the weak protests of the prefects stationed outside. As you make your way back toward the Slytherin common room, you all fall silent again, lost in your thoughts.
You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to forget what you saw, you think. In the future, you have a daughter. Her father is Sebastian Sallow, and… and she’s brilliant. Beautiful, courageous, more than a bit headstrong, and as determined as you both are if not more so.
You catch yourself actually grinning, and when you glance over at Sebastian, you see the same expression on his face.
“Anything you care to share?” you ask him.
“I know we probably shouldn’t talk about it,” he starts, “but there is one thing that girl said that I won’t soon forget.”
“What’s that?” you ask.
He’s quiet for a moment, and then he admits, “I heard her say she’s looking for a book for her aunt, and you haven’t got any sisters.”
You smile softly and reach for Sebastian’s hand. “No, I don’t.”
He lets you take his hand in his to give a reassuring squeeze.
“She’s still alive,” Sebastian says quietly. “She… she’s still sick, probably. But she’s still alive in the future. She meets my daughter, and she knows her.”
“She does,” you say. “And – and maybe we don’t quite know how that happens yet, but you can have a little faith, Sebastian. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, and Anne will be with us for a long, long time. There’s still plenty of time to make things right again.”
He nods wordlessly but doesn’t drop your hand.
Just before you arrive at your common room, Ominis stops in his tracks.
“Hang on… Her name, Anne-Marie?” he asks you. “That sounds like something Sebastian would have picked. How generous of you.”
“Aww,” Sebastian laughs. “You must be so in love with me by then to let me pick the name.”
You grit your teeth and ignore them as you murmur the password to the giant stone snake guarding the door, hoping to get some well-earned rest and be rid of these boys for the night.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Sebastian says as he ducks around you and slips inside the door. “I’ll let you pick the name for the second one, and we can duel for rights to the third.”
You go running off after Sebastian and holler, “You bastard Sebastian Sallow, how many damn children are you expecting?!”
Ominis quickly pulls the door shut behind him and shakes his head.
“Godfather,” he mutters to himself. “I’ll never know peace, will I?”
---
[Get to know more of the Sallow kiddos in "the train ain't even left the station" ❤️]
꒰warnings꒱ not proofread pls don’t yell at me *sniffles*
⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . [char] and you tend to say your i love yous pretty regularly, it’s become a subconscious routine for the both of you; what would happen if either one of you just suddenly didn’t respond?
⠀꒲ ` characters . . . venti, diluc, xiao, tartaglia, kazuha, ayato, alhaitham, wanderer, lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley, arlecchino
⠀꒲ ` notes . . . ദ്ദി(。•̀ ᗜ^) drabbles vary in length significantly because…i’m a little unwell with astarion brainrot rn and i will not rest till i get to kiss my beautiful vampiric man — also i apologise for making some of these more angsty than intended…i couldn’t help myself haha
VENTI — 温迪
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ venti? of all people? not saying i love you to his beloved windblume whom he’d personally resurrect ancient gods for if they asked with that sweet, melodic voice of theirs?
ʚ the only viable reason for him not replying can most likely be bottled down to him being a brat. a spoiled one at that. you give him so much affection it’s a little scary sometimes to think someone just know all of his ins and out as if they held his heart within the palm of their hand meaninglessly. so how do you expect him to be satisfied with a mere phrase when he wants you so desperately?
“i’m leaving for a commission, i’ll be back in a few hours; love you, honey.” you said per routine, fixing your hair in the mirror that stood perfectly near the doorway under venti’s request (he likes seeing how his braids look after you do them in the morning).
what you expected was a reply, but certainly not the one that followed: “alright, bye bye~” venti tilted his head back as his body slinked on the couch, his eyes scanning yours upside down with that look on his face which suggested he knew exactly what he was doing.
“goodbye, venti, i love you.” you re-enunciate, arms crossing firmly over your chest pridefully to mirror venti’s stubbornness that fell immediately upon sight of your pretty face glancing over at his. oh, he really couldn’t resist you for too long.
“i’ll say it back if you stay with me today!” he giggled, teeth on full display as he grinned widely; fully aware you’d indulge him even if for only a little while.
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
“windblume…” venti sadly slumped his head on your shoulder, leaving enough space for his eyes to glance at the book in your hands as you continued to read despite his sulking.
“i accidentally packed my schedule full with a flurry of performances…i’m afraid i won’t be able to indulge in your cuddles all day like i wanted to,” he whined, kissing the side of your neck to compensate for the lack of affection he’s going to have to put up with.
really, if he could, he’d pretend all the strings on his lyre magically untuned themselves into havoc if it meant giving an excuse to be back in your warm hold. but as a god of the wind, and one who shared the passions of music no less, it was more or less his duty to share his w with the residents of mondstadt when asked so kindly.
“i promise i’ll return to you soon as i can! no quick stop at angel’s share this time either,” venti managed a chuckle despite the inner thumping of his heart at the mere prospect of returning home to you — an experience he never thought he’d fulfil in his lifetime. “i love you dearly, my darling, i’ll see you soon~”
he leaned over the back of the couch to help reach the side of your face, lips pursing into a fish-like pout as he awaited to hear those beloved words that were always followed by a rewarding kiss. yet you merely hummed in acknowledgement of his presence and his soon departure.
who do you think you are?
venti’s brows immediately knit down together in frustration. “windblume…i said, i love you,” he leaned closer, “sweetheart…come on, say it back!” he finally nuzzled his cheek against yours, trying to elicit some sort of response from you that didn’t border on full on ignoring him. usually that slight uplift of your lips would be enough, but with the additional context that he’d be away from you for so long, venti couldn’t cope with a mere smile!
feeling a little flicker of breeze behind you, goosebumps prickle your skin and a delicate shiver runs down your spine, the little gust of wind disappearing as quick as it came. venti hooked his fingers beneath your chin, delicately forcing your eyes to meet his. “won’t you tell your god you love him?”
those gorgeous and elaborate white wings of his flutter quietly, twitching in anticipation as he excitedly awaits for what he’s been dying to hear. you sigh, leaning towards him to press the most featherlight kiss on the side of his face. “i love you too, now go along already, you’re going to be late.”
R. DILUC — 迪卢克
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ you’ve probably, unfortunately, caught him at a relatively bad time if he had completely ignored your affections. after all, while not necessarily a really active recipient, diluc is more than happy to indulge your carefree “i love yous” and kisses.
ʚ there’s no way he’d ever intentionally ignore or not reply to an “i love you”, especially one that’s so sickly sweet to his ears
“i’m going to bed, luc,” you yawn, arms stretching far out in front of you as you push yourself away from the desk that was littered with several papers stacked on top of each other in various piles that were marked by different pen colours. “you better come join me soon, alright? i love you.”
diluc hums and nods his head, eyes sunken into his skull as his fingers continue flipping the pen within his hand in a sleepy dance as he just barely managed to focus on the words that seemed to squeeze together. none of yours even register in his mind as you sorrowfully close the office door to head to your usually shared bedroom.
it only takes a little while for his brain to catch up to his heart. so that’s why he felt it flutter…
diluc immediately packs away his things to the best of his drowsy ability, hanging up his coat that he honesty forgot he still had draped on himself before he burst into your bedroom rather dramatically. panting from having rushed himself, his arms propping himself up with both sides of the door way, diluc looks away all flushed.
“…i love you as well, i’m sorry for not saying it,” he sighs in comfort as you raise a brow at him, amused at just how quickly he managed to wrap thing ups purely out of guilt that he failed to reciprocate your intentions.
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
oh. well…you’ve must’ve had a reason, right?
you wouldn’t just leave right in the morning for a commission, tell him goodbye when he declared his love to you without you repeating the same routine back to him? right?
and yet, you did; and now diluc finds himself in the peculiar position of being overly worried. he has strength, power and stability beyond imagination, but without your affection as fuel, what use are those things?
staring back at the ticking clock continuously, the wet rag in hand helping him clean up some ink that spilled across his hands as a frustrated groan escaped him. what kind of man have you turned him into that he can’t even focus on important tasks merely because you didn’t say a few simple words?
maybe that’s where the problem lies. the words “i love you” always seemed simple to you, something that diluc can admit had found himself jealous of on occasion, so now that he’s absent from something so easy, it’s a little difficult to not overthink the possibilities that the phrase has become harder to swallow for you.
diluc nearly slams his head on his desk at such a thought. he can’t lose his mind over something so silly, it’s fine. you’re both fine.
taking another meandering glance at the clock, diluc’s chair scraped across the wood as he flung on his coat, brushing it clean as he sauntered downstairs with the most grumpy expression dawn winery has seen in a while.
“honey, why do you look so upset?” your sweet voice lured him back into sanity as diluc’s steps immediately calmed down, his eyes widening momentarily as you seemed to return much earlier than expected from your travels. shaking his head, diluc sighs, “it’s nothing, my love — let’s go out for dinner, is that all right?”
XIAO — 魈
not really a surprise, honestly.
xiao isn’t necessarily known for being a fun-loving, happy-go-lucky, super affectionate bunny and as much as he wishes he could just vocalise the song that plays in his heart whenever you meet his eyes, he’s unable to reciprocate your affections in a way that’s satisfactory.
you’ve grown to accept such a fact. xiao, on the other hand, hasn’t. it’s like a little itch for him that he can’t scratch but desperately wants to. doesn’t mean he won’t show his love in other more discreet ways.
there are the subtle things; like the way he ensures your favorite dish is always ready when you come over, how he lingers a bit longer during a goodbye hug almost as if he’s scared to let you go, or the times he’ll simply sit in comfortable silence with you (though, that is common), his presence a quiet yet powerful testament to his feelings.
sometimes, he leaves small tokens for you to find: a flower carefully placed on your doorstep, a hand-written note slipped into your bag that you can tell was written in a hurry due to how sloppy the handwriting looks, a charm he crafted himself hidden among your belongings that he specifically sought the guidance of zhongli from. it's in these gestures that his love for you shines through, even if the words remain unspoken.
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
there are times when xiao escapes his shell, and it’s in those quiet moments where you’re both completely alone without even the whistling of the wind to eavesdrop on you atop the comfortable slope of a mountain, that xiao verbally tells you how much he adores you. sometimes a little more poetically than intended, but he hopes his words pass through to you in the form of a flutter.
“…a vow as enduring as the sea and mountains,” xiao mumbled nervously, his hand awkwardly hovering over yours in hesitance before he sucked in a breath and decided to just give in and delicately interlock your fingers. watching as you tilted your head in confusion, xiao looked away and muttered again: “i meant that i love you.”
the silence and the little nod that followed, which was all meant as a little ploy to tease him for being so cute and flustered over a term you didn’t even need to hear on the regular, resulted in xiao’s chest to tighten anxiously. did you not feel the same way anymore? but then again, that devious smile of yours (which xiao could differentiate the style of pretty instinctively) made it certain there was a deeper meaning behind the quiet.
“it's alright," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "you don't have to say anything. i just wanted you to know."
TARTAGLIA — 公子
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ petty petty petty, absolutely done out of pettiness and just being an overall ginger brat.
ʚ you forgot to say good morning immediately after you woke up? haha, what was your name again? aw, you walked passed him on your travels even though he deliberately came over to see you? guess he’s not paying for all your stuff today… (he will, just ask).
one morning, groggy and half-asleep, you stumbled out of bed, forgetting to meekly mumble your usual "good morning, my darling, i love you" as you got up for the day. it was a small and rather insignificant oversight, but not for childe.
later that day, as you wandered through the vibrant streets of fontaine, you spotted his unmistakable ginger hair approaching. waving and smiling at your beloved, expecting some sort of hyper response back, you awaited his towering presence with a hand on your hip. he walked right past you. full on. turning your head with furrowed brows and jaw hung low, you notice that little playful, shit-eating smirk on his lips.
a little confused, you called out to him, "ajax! come back here.”
he turned, feigning surprise despite clearly having seen you (and, unbeknownst to you, having been watching you for the past couple minutes as you checked out several vendors). "oh, it's you. i almost didn't recognize you."
rolling your eyes, you walked up to him. "seriously?” both of you stared at each other in scrutiny, tartaglia fighting back the urge to squeeze you within his arms and whine at you for your negligence while you fought the urge to pull him down by his sunlit strands to coax some sense out of him. “are you mad at me?”
he shrugged nonchalantly, eyes twinkling with mischief you recognised immediately. "hmm, who’s mad? i just forgot who you were for a moment." let’s not mention the fact he has your front, back and side silhouettes memorised to the point he could trace it with his eyes closed expertly.
when you both parted ways, tartaglia making up some excuse that he had to buy some souvenirs for his siblings despite you knowing full well he was just listening to your reprimand from a week ago that he needed respite from being brutalised repeatedly, you found yourself linking pieces of red yarn together internally.
oh he’s just such a little shit isn’t he?
the sun set and bedazzled the sky in golden red hues, you walked back to your shared accommodation and a hefty amount of apologetic snacks filling your bag. normally, when you opened the door, ajax would jump at you. it was obvious from the way he sat leaned back on the couch that he was biting back that urge too.
grinning, you approached him, feeling a mix of amusement and frustration. "you know i love you, right?"
he glanced at you, his expression softening for a moment, god he really missed you so much even if only parted for a few hours at most. "hmm, do you? because i don't recall hearing such a thing in the morning."
you laughed, shaking your head at his childishness. settling yourself next to him, arms encasing around his wounded torso, you muttered a little compromise: "alright, honey. tomorrow, first thing. i promise."
tartaglia finally relented, pulling you into a gentle embrace that led to him exhaling a breath he was holding (probably a subtle way to get his loud heart to stop beating so furiously). "good. i suppose i can forgive you this time.“
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ajax had disobeyed your orders again.
even when being repeatedly asked by friends and his own lover alike, he just couldn’t behave in a way that didn’t result in at the very least, a few scratches and bruises on his freckled skin. it irritated you to no end.
irritation, of course, led to frustration. i mean, when you have to regurgitate the same instructions to someone you adore to death, it becomes exhausting. you didn’t necessarily argue about it, you simply tuned off.
sitting in bed with a book cradled between your fingertips, a mellow tune humming in the background from your vinyl as you soaked in the fantasy you were thoroughly engaged in. none of those things could unfortunately deafen the whines from ajax as he cozied himself up next to you, a silent groan slipping past his lips as he incidentally tore at one of his bandages.
“kochanie…” his nose nuzzled against your clothes as he found himself laying on your warm thighs. “i already apologised for being a dumbass, i swear i love you and i’ll listen to you properly next time.”
he purses his lips into a pout as you ignore him and continue to scan your eyes over the ink. “come on, i love you, sweetheart.” he nudged you, pinching you as delicately as possible but enough to elicit a gasp from you as you finally glance over at him.
“and i love peace and quiet, so if you could, zip it.”
surely you don’t think that was a good enough response for someone as needy for attention as ajax?
“i’m so hurt…” he pitifully grumbled, arms crossing over his firm chest as he continued staring up at you with a gaze that meant “you are not getting out of this”.
“won’t even spare a small kiss for your wounded lover? a hug? a cuddle? even just a whisper of your voice? how am i meant to live—“ you hush childe’s antics by squishing his cheeks together, forcing a fish like pout to form with his lips.
“i love you too, you’re just annoying.”
he’d take that over you fully ignoring him any day.
K. KAZUHA — 枫原万叶
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ not possible, thank you next character.
ʚ the only possible way kazuha would ever not indulge your i love yous is when he’s away to a different nation and he sends you a response letter that takes weeks to come to your hands, or if that same letter somehow gets wet or ruined while in transit and his affections get dampened and smudged
ʚ otherwise? kazuha doesn’t see the point in stubborn behaviour. if there’s a problem, though there hardly ever is, he’s under the pretence a couple should talk about it with a clear mind before making a final decision or statement — or in this case, the retraction of affection.
ʚ you’re his map, with the treasure being your heart. why would he ever choose to not tell you he loves you when he gets the chance? you already lack sufficient time with another, and kazuha prefers using the time he does have with you to show you how much he adores you (whatever way that manifest as).
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
kazuha absolutely smothers you in his love. though that usually feels more like you’re resting within the comfort of a sandy beach as soft washes of waves tickle your skin. you’re never short of a supply of affection.
that’s why a devious idea popped into your head. what if you just didn’t reciprocate?
“my heart,” kazuha’s breathy voice popped the bubble that hung over your head. “you’ve been spaced out for a while now, do you need a kiss to help you refocus?” you had to stop yourself from jumping at the opportunity.
“uh, no it’s fine, you don’t have to,” the reply made kazuha raise an eyebrow quizzically. that’s certainly not something he expected to hear especially after not seeing you for a while; but, he’d respect your choice. it’s not like he’s desperate for something so simple, you could just genuinely not be interested.
“hm…alright then, beloved.” he smiled sincerely, head falling to rest on your shoulder as his hand gently rested on the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles that mirrored the shape of the moon that cast a glow on you both. “i love you.”
he could’ve sworn he just said he loved you, so why did the winds bellow a response instead? coughing into his hand to clear his throat, thinking that perhaps you just didn’t hear him, he repeated: “i love you, songbird.”
met with silence again, kazuha simply stays quiet. he doesn’t need a reply, that’s not why he says sweet things to you like he’s writing a lyrical sonnet. he tells you he loves you because it helps write the song in his heart that beats whenever he’s near you in a much more coherent way.
K. AYATO — 神里绫人
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ this man oozes with romantic appeal. even if he’s off voyaging to a whole other nation he’ll find a way to not only say i love you, but also to say his good morning and good nights (accompanied with poorly doodled attempts at kiss marks to make up for the lack of physical touch).
ʚ when he’s upset? gods no. he could be frustrated with you to the point he needs a break, and regardless he’ll leave the room with a reminder he loves you. he doesn’t need you getting second thoughts and therefore won’t ever plant them.
ʚ he’s too busy? so? thoma has two hands i’m sure he can handle giving you letters that are merely love notes while he cleans the abode (assuming you and ayato live together separately from where he works…you can imagine how much thoma despises this errand despite his loyalty).
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
“greetings, love,” ayato’s arms slid around your middle, chin coming to rest atop your shoulder as he hums a sweet tune as if he were a bird coming back home to his nest. a rather direct analogy, since that’s exactly the occurrence.
plagued with hours of paperwork and meetings with government issues and secret organisations that god forbid you or ayaka ever found out about, ayato has missed you gravely. if he didn’t know better he’d demand this sort of sin to be classified as a national crime with the sentence being told to stay home with your spouse all day (his literal dream).
now that he’s free for at least a little while, peace alas twinkling within his eyes as they close tightly to enjoy the silence as he clings onto you, ayato does feel like all the pain and ink he went through was totally worth it. if the price he had to pay for holding you oh so tightly is simply meaningless signatures on several documents, he’s willing to waste the entire supply of ink within inazuma — he wants this reward to last as long as possible, after all.
“mm, you smell divine, are you using the flower-scented perfume i sent you the other week? i love it,” he rambled, lips pressing against your nape as you busied yourself with some crocheting, ayato’s eyes opening only to focus on the way your deft hands moved so skilfully. he’d make a comment about how he wished those hands were on him instead, but he had a particular reputation to uphold — and lewd impatient man certainly wasn’t part of it.
“more importantly, sweetheart,” ayato cooed, beginning to trail kisses around your neck and any exposed skin he managed to find, “i love you. so, look at me won’t you?”
merely turning your head to plant a kiss to the side of his jaw in a way of compromise, you otherwise remained silent. “you know,” ayato smiled devilishly, his hand beginning to play with your hair soothingly. “i bought some stuff on my travels recently, a lot of things that are meant for you, of course.”
“i can’t wait to surprise you tonight during dinner.”
that was a threat. maybe not a direct one, but you could recognise the slyness in that man’s voice soon as he mentioned buying “stuff” — things that were definitely substitutes for poison (a little far fetched, but it’s best to assume whatever he conjures up will be the worst thing possible to save yourself the trip to a hospital bed).
“i love you too.” you appeased, and his face immediately lightened, arms returning around you as if finally satiated.
ayato huffs a stifled laugh, quelling your worries with a simple: “i’ll have the staff know you’d like your favourite dish prepared.”
ALHAITHAM — 艾尔海森
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ lowkey, it’s a bit of a 50/50 with him…?
ʚ sometimes, he just genuinely doesn’t hear you. whether it’s because he’s subconsciously disassociating, overstimulated from excessive noise (it’s pretty much canon that he’s autistic, you can’t give me a character that constantly wears headphones and only speaks when spoken to and expect me not to connect the dots) or simply because whatever’s playing in his ears was a little too loud and had managed to drown out your words — these specifics are never intended, and he’s more likely to reply back if you repeat yourself (or give him some time).
ʚ other times though, is simply him teasing you. remember that one scene at the end of the interdarshan festival where alhaitham said, “best things are told thrice” (or whatever the quote was), yeah he commits to that in this scenario too.
ʚ he’ll pretend he can’t hear you just so he can see the sweet frustration in your eyes as you mumble the words “i love you” through gritted teeth. he’ll smirk it off subtly and reciprocate…after a while of course. perhaps when you’re falling asleep on his chest once you’re finally cuddled in bed together, you’ll manage to catch his hushed whisper.
the world was intent on making alhaitham break down today. he woke up without you in bed with him this morning, meaning he couldn’t brush his teeth while next to you as he passed you things that you required to get ready to start the day. from that, none of the foods or snacks he liked were available and the only option were fruits or meals he didn’t like or he weren’t in the mood for.
already feeling irritated and grumpy, him nearly spilling a vase on the books he had perfectly stacked up to binge read as he bumped into the corner of the table could’ve made him bang his head brutally on the wall. this wouldn’t have been a problem if kaveh didn’t place something so fragile and wobbly on something that’s in the way.
alas, when he finally died down for the afternoon, book in hand, a melody passing by his ear as he tried to focus on breathing, all a sudden that irritation just slowly came creeping back. the words on the page squished together like some sort of cartoon from fontaine as they began to make no coherent sense even as he went over every line twice.
to make it worse? you had just come back home.
that sounds bad, but for alhaitham it was a travesty. now he wasn’t able to at the very least embrace you in greeting in fear he’d lash out at the sudden contact. noticing the scrunching of his brows and the way his jaw looked like he’d been clenching it subconsciously for hours, you smiled out of sympathy, knowing from experience that this was most definitely another case of the domino effect of bad shit happening.
“need me to leave you alone for a bit?” you asked as quietly as possible but in an octave he wouldn’t twitch at in frustration.
he shook his head. a little surprising, but you complied with his wish and sat down on the floor next to him as he laid back on the couch as if in an impromptu therapy session. alhaitham held out his hand for you and you gently but surely placed yours on top, a delicate reminder that he was free to express whatever was on his mind when the world finally felt a little more peaceful.
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
it’s not like alhaitham really says he loves you verbally, he prefers showing his love to you though actions. after all, actions speak louder than words — what’s the point of telling you he loves you if he doesn’t have the actions to back it up?
but for the sake of the scenario, let’s imagine alhaitham decides to spoil you with one his few vocal affirmations. his hands slowly running up and down the spine of your back, chest rising and falling in slow steady breaths as you burrow yourself into his side. alhaitham was reluctantly reading a romance book that you forcefully recommended him in hopes he’d learn a few things that would make you swoon (despite him doing plenty such things already).
“i love you.” he randomly blurts, his eyes clearly having scanned over the same phrase within the page he was on since he rather quickly skipped past it once your eyes caught glimpse of it. alhaitham is a confident, sometimes arrogant, man — nothing ever truly bothers him when in regards to the words or actions of other people unless they pose a threat to someone he loves.
however, in this case, your lack of words makes his brows scrunch down, bright teal eyes now scrutinising you as you clearly try to hide away a giggle. “don’t you think it’s a little rude to not reply to someone’s confession.” he asks in a monotone voice, attention returning to the words on the page that now seemed irrelevant.
“if you want me to be like the characters in your little romance stories, how about you also commit to that yourself?” a little harsh sounding, but when faced with alhaitham’s pettiness, this is probably the most lenient he’s ever been to anyone.
WANDERER — 流浪者
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ another one that’s not necessarily surprising.
ʚ he likes using the phrase to tease or slander you, if anything. case in point: “oh i love you alright, but that doesn’t mean you get to steal my blanket in the middle of the night.” or “i love you more when you keep completely silent."
“i’m convinced you don’t love me.” ah god, not another one of your little helpless spiels again. this sort of conversation starter would normally set of a warranted number of red flags. in this case, however, both of you understood it was more like the start of a theatrical display of your pettiness.
“right, and why’s that?” scara asked unamused, face not changing from his casual stoicism as he scanned over a possibly illegal book he snuck from the library (and if this conversation goes one way you might just tattle to auntie nahida).
“you slept on the couch yesterday even after i cooked your favourite dish and got you out of that lecture kusanali forced you to attend by pretending we had chores to do,” you list off your good deeds on your fingers, your body sinking next to his on the couch that seemed more like a partner in crime than just a piece of furniture.
scara rolled his eyes. licking the tip of his fingertip to turn the page on his book, he huffed a response absentmindedly: “i do love you, but you just keep pushing me off the bed because of my cooler temperature so i got annoyed — simple as.”
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
‘oh, so just fuck me i guess?’
it’s already so difficult for him to even admit how much he cares for you, so to have such a hefty phrase leave his lips and be left with silence? he’s a little more than pissed.
scara’s eyebrows crunched together, confusion written all over his face at the sudden change in your demeanor. you’re always the first to jump at the opportunity to coddle him soon as his sour lips turn sweet, so what’s with the sudden negativity? the hostile fire that once flickered in his eyes was now replaced by a mournful sadness, and scara couldn’t help but feel like he was staring at a stranger.
his chest tightened in a way that didn’t feel good, and he found himself swallowing thickly, eyes flicking downward to where your hands swirled an ice-filled glass. guilt nipped at scara’s conscience, and he scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out a heavy sigh.
“what did i fucking do wrong now?” he spits out.
scara tends to take even the slightest joke within your relationship as a direct threat or dig at him. not because he doesn’t trust you, not even because he thinks your relationship isn’t at a secure stage — but just because that’s all he knows. he doesn’t know how to respond to something lighthearted when all that he’s felt so far in his life is extremities.
“hm? what do you mean?” you ask, the teasing tone you took on dwindling upon the quick glance at how his bottom lip jutted out nervously. did everything have to be so irrevocably complicated?
scara shook his head, exhaling a small sigh before he just let the matter drop naturally. he didn’t have time for stuff like this. he’d like to think he knows you well enough to recognise when you’re simply teasing him, but that fact alone isn’t enough to make that ache in his heart go away.
he just needs a minute break. and perhaps for you to sneak into bed with him so you can cuddle him from behind.
LYNEY — 林尼
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
it’s a little difficult for lyney to say the words “i love you” to someone who’s not technically part of his family. he trusted and loved you easily, you cared for his siblings as if they were your own and even gave up your own pride to protect him; but something itching within him tells him he has no right to confess his true ardour.
lyney is nothing but a pawn with a jesters hat, using sleight of hand to remove the idea that he’s deceptive from your mind with a few whimsical flower tricks. it’s hard to allow himself to be so vulnerable and open when he knows full well that if his father found out, the disappointment would be greater than the reward.
when he’s coated in that black circus show getup, his smile broad and stance wide with confidence, he’ll reply pretty easily! after all, he had to please his audience. but, you’re not just a stranger in the crowd. you’re his beloved, someone he waits for before one of his grandeur shows as you press a kiss to his cheek as a lucky charm that he finds himself gently touching as he slowly enters the stage.
but when he’s merely lyney, a lonely kid from the house of hearth who trembles in the comfort of the dark, your mumble of: “i love you a lot, lyney,” makes him replywith a mere widened look as if a deer caught in headlights, his pale face blossoming into a rosey pink hue as he tugged down at the front of his hat to cover his eyes.
“me too.” sometimes that reply is easier and much safer for both his heart and yours than the actual words.
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
lyney adores how easily you find yourself saying such a phrase, even a little jealous at time at both the idea of how many people you’ve uttered it to and the fact he finds himself stumbling over his own consciousness at the idea of confessing his affections back.
he’s also a massive trickster! you pull silly and harmless pranks on each other constantly, from something dumb like switching out a singular chocolate chip cookie to a raisin one to see the astounded look on lyney’s face as he bites down to something a little more sweet like lyney throwing out roses to an audience that coincidentally create a heart.
this is certainly a much crueller prank than any of the above.
lyney was a little jumpy backstage, constantly pacing back and forth with a genuine smile on his face that you’ve rarely seen, his arms constantly stretching out in front of him as he played with the leather of his gloves tediously. lady furina was going to be watching him today, it was no wonder he wanted you to help out!
well, lynette did everything, but you’re here for something lyney said he absolutely couldn’t go without. his good luck kiss.
hearing the familiar sound of the staff shuffling around their props, lyney sauntered to you with a smile as his lips tucked behind his arms innocently. “ma moitié,” lyney hums in a chipper, melodic tune, content at simply seeing your face light up once your eyes meet his, “i’m confident in my abilities as a magician, but i think you have the answer to quelling any of my nerves. care to share some of your magic wit me?”
you grin and tilted your head off to the side, giving him an encouraging thumbs up and a much less motivating: “break leg, lyney, i believe in you.” as much as he wished to coax it out of you, he’d have to unfortunately settle for the way you leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek.
yet, although he preformed flawlessly per usual, his execution even enthralling the ever critical furina who sat up in the crowd with a leg over her knee, you notice a slight hesitation in his movements, a brief moment of distraction that only you, who knows him so well, could catch. the show eventually concludes to thunderous applause, lyney and lynette taking their final bow as he nearly sprints off once the curtains draw closed.
backstage, as the crowd's cheers still echo faintly, lyney cautiously approaches you with a more serious expression. “[name],” he begins, his tone quieter, more introspective, “did I... do something wrong?”
who knew just the slight lower pitch of someone’s voice could make your heartstrings tug unceremoniously. you know it's time to end this silly prank. shaking your head, you take a step closer. “no, lyney. you were incredible, as always — lady furina seemed exceptionally impressed.” his breath catches in his throat — that’s not really what he wanted to hear. but before he could brush it all off, you interrupt his overthinking: “and... I love you too.”
his eyes widen in surprise, then soften with relief and warmth. “you really had me there,” he chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “you're quite the trickster yourself.”
you laugh, hugging him back tightly. “i learned from the best.”
NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ for neuvillette it’s less about him not saying i love you, but just how convoluted and complicated he can make it seem.
ʚ whether it’s by using outdated poetry and reciting it to you without the knowledge that the terms used completely flew over your head because they’re so old, or doing something that to him is basically more intimate than physical touch like gifting you a piece of jewellery that’s imbedded with a stone most certainly toxic to humans (he got it out of a rift from khaenri’ah when it first emerged and kept it as a little token).
ʚ this man is a dragon, he’s older than the snowy mountains of dragonspine and the deadly primordial sea itself…you can’t blame him for being a little bit over the top and traditional with how he says he loves you.
ʚ it’s all courting tactics! isn’t this what you humans enjoy? no? …maybe he should ask lady furina if she has some plays from the romance genre she’d care to share, perhaps then he could learn a much more modern way of showing his affections.
ʚ he’ll say he loves you if you vocalise you’d just prefer that but…are you sure you don’t also want this embarrassingly cute cup he made to match his dragon form?
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
the more he thinks about it, the sadder he gets. and the sadder he gets, the rainier the heavens become. neuvillette’s pen shifted between several of his fingers as the paragraphs in front of him shifted and blurred continuously.
you didn’t reply to his i love you this morning. straight after waking up he mumbled the sweetest, “i love you,” directly into your ear with that rumbling voice of his, letting his affections linger on your skin as his nose snuggled itself safely against your neck.
and what did he get in response? a small giggle and a, “should we get ready?”
at first, he merely internalised it as a mere misstep on your part. perhaps you merely didn’t hear him, you had just woken up after all you must’ve been feeling a little groggy. that managed to ease his nerves just a little, but soon as you closed the door to his office without a chance for another i love you, he slumped into his seat with defeat.
you humans are tricky creatures and scarily good at making other overthink things that someone should be most confident on.
just the idea that he might’ve done something to upset you enough for you to not want to love him so dearly as you normally do makes the skies weep to match the mourning in his heart. you best come back this instant with your arms wide open unless you want fontaine to flood over.
he may be one of the strongest beings currently alive and awake in the land of teyvat, but his heart is rather fragile when it comes to you.
WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
much to the dismay of wriothesley, he rarely even gets to say he loves you. between managing the fortress of meropide and his countless responsibilities that range from being a guinea pig for sigewinne’s new test trials that she calls food to ridiculous requests from inmates, expressing his feelings often takes a backseat.
you, of course, understand his position, but it doesn't stop you from sending him love letters whenever you can. your letters are filled with warmth, affection, and little anecdotes about your day, hoping they bring a smile to his face during his busy hours — and they certainly do, he adores tracing your handwriting with the back of his gloved hand.
unfortunately, your letters piled up on his desk without being read. despite him desperately wanting to respond to every little i love you, he found himself way too preoccupied with other immediate matters that required his thorough attention. every time he’d open up his drawer to find a new pen to fill out a document with, he’d shamefully glance at the stack of unread papers that were littered with hearts.
each letter was one a piece of your heart — him stashing it away protectively would be a little romantic and rather ironic given his profession, but currently it felt more like he was actively giving you the sentence of a lifetime by withdrawing his affections.
no reply comes for days.
you understand that his duties are overwhelming, but a part of you yearns for some acknowledgment, a sign that your words are reaching him. however, wriothesley is determined to rectify this, he sat down at his desk after the first calm night in a while, pulls out a sheet of paper, and begins to write.
what you receive the next day isn’t necessarily anything grandiose or swooningly romantic — but it was enough; a large bouquet of your favourite roses with a special heart shaped note attached that when you latched it off simply read: “i love you too, sweetheart.”
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
alas, wriothesley finally managed to carve out a free day just for you. spending the day together ultimately meant either a completely lazy morning filled with sloppy kisses shared and your warm bodies all tangled within blankets, or a date where you bask in each other’s presence.
this time, you chose the latter. you needed a little bit of a pick me up and what better than having a romantic outing with your beloved? …where you simultaneously wished to entertain yourself with a bit of mischief. who could get away with teasing the mighty duke if not you?
a day of activities left you a little exhausted, which is why wriothesley decided to share the last few setting hours of the sun by sitting on a comfy blanket near an empty, secluded beach far from the usual hustle and bustle of fontaine.
"thank you for being so patient with me," wriothesley said, his voice low and sincere. "i know it's not easy, but you mean a lot to me."
you reached out and squeezed his hand. "aww, i understand, wrio. i’m honestly just happy we get to spend time together like this at all.”
bringing your interlocked hands up to his lips, his calloused and rough ones ridden with scars and marks that told stories of their own holding yours as if made of porcelain, he pressed a few gentle kisses to your knuckles as he mumbled a sincere: “i love you, [name].”
ah the very words you’ve been waiting to drawl from his lips. stifling a chuckle, you simply smiled and nodded, letting your hand wiggle away from his grasp as your focus drifted to stare at the crashing waves cleansing the shore.
wriothesley's brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "did you hear me?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light. "i said, i love you."
you nodded again, keeping your expression neutral. “i heard you."
his confusion turned into amusement as both his brows raised in disappointment — were you seriously teasing him right now? wriothesley leaned in appetisingly close, searching your face for a clue for your intentions. "and?" he prompted.
swallowing down another fit of giggles, you titled your head at him all coyly, “and what?”
wriothesley puffed out a chuckle before his skilled hand quickly swooped beneath your knees and atop the small of your back to land you on his lap. “do you think you’re funny?” his muscular and scarred arms closed around your middle, keeping you firmly in place to face your trial.
“a little,” you muse before lifting yourself a little within his grasp, moving in to press a more than welcomed kiss on his cheek. “i love you too, wrio.”
“that’s what i thought.”
ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺
꒰ her not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ arlecchino loves you, she really does. but unfortunately for you, you’re not the age of the orphaned children she protects and therefore she finds it useless to constantly reassure you of such a fact.
ʚ surely if you want her to prove how much she loves you, you’d be less childish with it and simply ask for a real heart to be displayed in a glass box? she’s kidding (perhaps), but given the nature of your dynamic, she’s sure you’ve said the words “i love you” in this relationship enough to cover her half of the bargain.
“arle, i love you,” you muse, buzzing around her desk like a never satiated mosquito. yet instead of sucking blood you merely made her wish she had the heart to plug her ears to silence your relentless affection spillage. she wouldn’t dare. but for the love of the tsaritsa won’t you be good and just sit on her lap and remain quiet?
“arlechinnoo…” another whine as you carefully sit yourself on her desk, her pen quickly brushing over lines, the ferocity at which she held it made the point look as if she was scabbing the paper.
“yes, bunny?” she looked off to the side at you, her expression holding an air of royalty that was most likely non existent in her blood, but definitely seemed present in the way she held herself. maybe it was just that natural posture of arrogance?
“i love you…won’t you love me back?”
“my dear,” she placed the pen down and got up, a sight that made the two informants that stood opposite of the room with their heads hung low nervously hunch into themselves. she sauntered to you and encased your body against the edge of the desk, hands on either side of you.
“you’re surely irritating our guests with your constant noise,” that crestfallen expression of yours was something she wished she could wipe, but that sinful, pyre of pride burned within her like vengeance, making her merely tap her hand over your cheek to refocus your forlorn attention.
soon as you tilted your head, her hot breathy whisper mumbled against your ear: “stay quiet and i’ll be sure to spoil you.”
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
“i’ve been issued another task within fontaine, do keep yourself out of trouble even though i have little hope you’ll commit,” arlecchino teasingly mused as she nudged your hip with hers while fixing her coat. “i love you, dear — i’ll be sure to send you letters.”
arlecchino is eerily fond of the silence that came after deafening screams. the scarlet stickiness that spreads across her grim face in splatters making her instinctively lick off that sweet residue. but right now, the silence was just a testament to how good she’s been treating you.
if you think you can get away with a silly prank like this as she’s awaiting your response like a puppy begging for a bone, you must’ve forgotten who has the collar and who has the leash.
catching your chin between her thumb and forefinger, she tilts your face upwards to meet her intense stare, stern eyes blazing with naked hunger. "i asked you to not cause trouble while i’m gone, but you’ve already decided to start, have you?”
most people would crumble beneath her shimmering eyes that spoke volumes of violence, yet deeply within your own heart you know she’d carry you over mountains of skulls that crushed beneath her callous heels if it meant getting you across into fairyland.
“admit it - you crave me just as fiercely as i burn for you." she grins before flicking your forehead with her clawed fingertips. “don’t make me repeat myself or you won’t be getting any gifts from me when i return.”
that’s the real threat you were waiting for. leaving a featherlight goodbye kiss atop her lips, you smartly respond: “i love you too, and don’t forget my favourite cake!”
she rolls her eyes, finally letting you go. “wouldn’t dream of it.”
©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ
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↻Improved version of ModNene/X's work on this blog
ModRui, I revamped my work. Please let my family go/j
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■ Contents: Fluff/Comfort/Angst [Drabble]
► ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Mizuki Akiyama and Ena Shinonome
(Y/N) had called over Mizuki to their place for a makeover. Upon hearing the request, Mizuki got really excited to come over as she had never tried styling anyone from out of her circle. Though the question now bugs is, did (Y/N) asked to do makeup for fun?
Nightcord at 22:00
(Y/N): Hey Mizuki? Are you there?
Amia: What's up?
(Y/N): Are you free tomorrow?
Amia: Yeah, I don't have any work.
(Y/N): Could you come over to my place tomorrow at 08:00?
----------------------------------------------------------
Ding Dong!
"Yahoo! Is anyone home?"
(Y/N) quickly rushed down to the door of their apartment. Stood behind it, was their friend, Akiyama Mizuki, who (Y/N) had called over yesterday on Nighcord, to invite them to their place for help
"Ah there you are! Geez, you really surprised me with this one. Asking me out of nowhere to do your makeup and at this time of the day too." Mizuki states as (Y/N) invited them into their abode. "Ahah sorry about that! Hopefully you got sufficient rest at least since you did mention that you stay up late to work on music videos." (Y/N) replied with a sorry expression on their face for interrupting Mizuki's sleep.
"Don't worry about it, I'm already getting energized thinking of how I'll be styling you. Anyways do you have all your beauty products ready? I also brought some of my things to make you extra cute 𝅘𝅥𝅮" Mizuki then held up a mini tote bag, showing various clothing's and accessories sticking out of it. (Y/N) immediately went to see the tote's bag contents in it and were surprised to find at least 10 different outfits which led (Y/N) turning their head to see Mizuki smirking at them.
Now (Y/N) was in front of a mirror while Mizuki was coming their hair. (Y/N) learnt a lot about makeup during the time you spent with Mizuki and was really glad Mizuki was available for the day. "Oh (Y/N)? I didn't manage to ask this since I was too excited to style you. However, why do you need this makeover for? I mean.. You already look so cute 𝅘𝅥𝅮" Mizuki questioned (Y/N) while they moved onto trying to braid (Y/N)'s hair.
"Hehe thanks for the compliment. As what I need it for.. I guess you could say I'm meeting up with my crush today." (Y/N) replied. "YOU HAVE A CRUSH?!" Mizuki accidentally blurted their thoughts out due to the shocking news, and realised they stopped moving their hands. "Ah, sorry about that accidental burst. I'm.. just surprised.." Mizuki apologised before going back to brushing (Y/N)'s hair. "Are you alright Mizuki? You sounded a bit.. I don't know, upset?" (Y/N) replied, feeling concerned of Mizuki's feelings due to their friends' sudden outburst.
"Me being depressed? Hah, never! I'm fine really!" Mizuki stated, however they felt their heartstrings tearing apart. '(Y/N)? Having a crush? Why can't I be happy for them but I'm not.. I know they deserve better.. But.. It would be nice to be selfish for once..' Mizuki thought to themselves, before Mizuki knew it, they finished styling (Y/N)'s hair.
"I looks so amazing and cute! Thank you so much Mizuki!" (Y/N) immediately inspected their hair through the mirror in their house. "N-no problem! I'm really glad that you like it" Mizuki replied. 'No.. I can't show them I'm sad. They do deserve better, I should just be happy I could be able to give them a makeover for the day. But at the same time.. Why does it hurt so much? ...'
"Oh would you look at the time! I-I just remembered I got work today! I'm so sorry (Y/N)!" Mizuki spoke.
[Angst Ending] - Optional to read
"Eh? I thought you got nothing going on today?" (Y/N) responded to them. Although looking kind of sad for some reason. "Ah yep! I totally forgot about it since we all had new schedules. See you next time (Y/N)!" As Mizuki rushed out of the house, knowing themselves they don't have any work that day. Nontheless, all they wanted to do is cry when they reach their home.
"Oh.. They left quite fast.. Did I mess up..?" (Y/N) questioned themselves. "It's my fault. I probably should've been more direct that they were my crush.."
[Fluff Ending] - Optional to read
As Mizuki was about to leave the room.
"Wait Mizuki!" As (Y/N) rushed over to grabbed their hand. "Is there a way you could probably call to reschedule?" (Y/N) asked. "Don't you have a date to get to? Plus I already took up so much of your time today aha. Don't worry about me, I'm fine really!" Mizuki responded, mustering up all their courage to smile at (Y/N).
"..In that case we do have some time before you work right? From what I know you work fairly close around here." (Y/N) spoke, in hopes that Mizuki had a bit of time left. "Huh? Oh yeah, I guess I do have a little bit of time.." Mizuki responded "Great! In that case how about we go on that small date? Even if it is just a little." (Y/N) asked leaving a really puzzled Mizuki.
"Oh come on! Don't just give me the silent treatment. After all the work I put into preparing myself too" (Y/N) joked sarcastically. "..Eh?" 'Did I hear it right? Man I'm being so desperate my brain is playing mindtricks on me' "But that would mean.."
"Do I have to spell it out for you? Geez, you aren't that dense Mizuki. You are my crush" (Y/N) tried to look away to hide the subtle blush on their face due to admitting it and hoped Mizuki was actually confused instead of trying to tease them.
The moment Mizuki heard those words. They immediately felt warm and went back to their normal self. "Ha ha ha! Got ya to admit it, I knew acting could come in handy one day~ 𝅘𝅥𝅮" helding their head high, though it wasn't acting.
"Why yo-" Before (Y/N) could finish their sentence, Mizuki cut in "Well let's just spend the whole day giving each other a makeover 𝅘𝅥𝅮"
Ena would always include you whenever she is taking selfies as she wanted to show off your looks to her socials. However one day, you decided you wanted to try in her makeup as you found it really interesting. However, is that the only reason?
"Look at this (Y/N)! Our selfie got over 1000 likes!" As your friend, Shinonome Ena, placed her phone in front of your face. "We should take pictures with each other more often. We look super pretty and adorable together!" As Ena boasted while scrolling through the comments of the selfie post.
"I don't mind taking selfies with you, however in exchange for taking selfies with me, could you teach me how to put on makeup?" Ena immediately halted in her tracks after hearing what (Y/N)'s favour. "Huh?! You don't need makeup! You're already so pretty. Who said you weren't?!" Ena replied angrily. "No one, I just want to learn how since I've seen you put it on several times and I've got interested." (Y/N) tried to clarify, although Ena did not fully believe her. However, she accepted the request.
'Whoever told (Y/N) that they're ugly. I'll make them have regrets by making them the prettiest they could be! I'll show them!" As Ena worked really precisely on (Y/N)'s makeup and ensured every foundation, blush, beauty products is applied with most cautious and care on her beloved (Y/N)'s face.
Ena then continued on to do (Y/N)'s hair. Which she found was really soft and smooth and was easy to comb through. '(Y/N)'s hair is really pretty.. Wait why am I helping them again. Is this the right thing to do? If (Y/N) really did get insulted then aren't I making it worse to show that they need makeup?'
Ena, who was focus began to drift away in her own thoughts, debating if this was the 'right' way to help. After all she did learn that she should've helped Honami embrace her own style instead of changing it.
"Ena? Are you alright? You sort of paused a little." (Y/N) spoke up, looking worried for Ena, since she paused her work. "Ah.. I can't help but notice if this was the right thing to do. I know you said it was for interest but I really still think someone is insulting you. Could you please tell me the truth?"
[Fluff Ending] - Optional to read
"Alright alright, you caught me. The real reason is.." (Y/N) suddenly paused which cause Ena to be more anxious. "Oi! Don't leave me hanging, is there's actually a person insulting or harassing you.. I'll.. I'll scream at them up for you!" Ena jumped in, hoping that whatever she said would cause (Y/N) to open up. Though what Ena said had shocked (Y/N) a bit.
"You would? Thanks but actually my reason for this is simple." (Y/N) quickly spoke to ease Ena's worries.
"I actually just want your attention." (Y/N) put it bluntly. "..Eh..?" "You being on your phone 24/7 and leaving me attention-less! You know how sad that makes me?" (Y/N) scoffs sarcastically. After hearing this, Ena grew a little red. Feeling a little glad she is behind (Y/N) so they couldn't see her flushed face. She then sighed.
"I'm really glad you're okay then.. Also if you want wanted attention you could've asked me!" As Ena slowly became back to her normal self.
"Really? You would've probably argued saying you're not on the phone all the time, Tsundere." (Y/N) instantly regretted calling her a Tsundere as Ena stroked their hair roughly once because of that.
[Comfort Ending] - Optional to read
"..Was it that obvious?" (Y/N) asked. "So there IS someone out there insulting you?! Jeez, people these days." Ena scoffs. "Aha.. Sorry.." (Y/N) apologised as they knew they made their friend worried for them. "They're jerks, don't listen to them (Y/N). You're already so pretty, you shouldn't need to change for others." Ena retorts trying to cheer (Y/N) up a little bit. Though feeling quite a bit of regret doing (Y/N)'s makeup now as it would be changing her for others. "I'm going to stop doing your makeup now if that's fine. I don't think it's right for me to hide your beauty with it. Plus it'll also be proving those jerks right." Ena responded. "If there's someone bothering you please let me know next time." As Ena hugged you from behind.
My sister, who has never played Genshin, ranked the character on how she thinks the fandom treats them
These are some funny anecdotes:
She described Thomas as looking like Taylor Swift's ex-boyfriend (Joe Alwyn)
Diluc and Kaeya: Guessed that they're estranged and that the fans go crazy over it
"Her name's Fischl but she refers to herself as Prinzessin der Verurteilung, she is not a princess" "Okay so everyone relates to her but doesn't admit it"
Ayaka was originally despised but got moved when we got to her brother LMAO
Ninnguang: Almost put in controversial Waifus, but said she might be too bitchy
Heizhou: There is a reason it says ACAB lol
I audibly gasped when Nahida was placed in despised
Aloy: The short description I was giving to her was too long
summary: although you're always looking out for any mistakes he makes, you think you've found the perfect rival in kazuha. but when you begin to spend more time with him, you begin to realize he's also the perfect love interest... after all, why else would someone lend you an personally annotated book?
pairings: kaedehara kazuha x gn!reader
tags: enemiestolovers!au, modern!au
genre: fluff, humor, slight angst
a/n: i've been having something of an obsession with sylvia plath even tho we finished reading her work last november. i love it and i will not stop talking about her potrayal of women and will include it in a fic about kazuha. god, i just want to have an academic rival who will convince me to read an annotated book so that i can fall in love with them. okay, enjoy this brainrot <3 also ps: i enjoyed writing this kazuha a lot so if you have any requests i will be more than happy to cater to them :)
“So, class how did we like reading Sylvia Plath?” Miss Aranaki, your Literature teacher, crosses her arms across her chest as she regards the twenty or so of you sitting in front of you, “Any thoughts?”
“I didn’t like it much, actually,” a voice pipes up and without seeing, you know who it is, a groan escaping your lips. Aranaki gives an amused laugh, “Kazuha. Please do elaborate on why you dislike Plath so much.”
Unwillingly, your eyes travel until they come to rest on the mostly-platinum-blonde-headed boy who has his copy of The Bell Jar dismissed on its back by his elbow. “Well, to start with, her poetry is too easily interpretable once you know everything about her enough and the themes are usually just the same old feminist, complaining about privilege and children. Although I must say the touch with the cheating husband in The Rival was interesting, but that was as good as it got.”
Before Kaedehara Kazuha can continue, you, who’s had Plath’s novel clutched tightly in your hands, interrupt him. “Excuse me, to me it sounds like you’re complaining about having to read about a complex female experience. It’s a shame to see men like you roaming around in the campus’ feminist activism clubs when in class you cannot tolerate the slightest shred of powerful women in action.”
Kazuha meets your eyes in a flash, a familiar smile in place - one that is almost friendly, but at the last moment, turns smug. “I’m sorry if I came across as discarding Plath’s unique persona - but I just refuse to credit her writing simply because she’s a woman. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise, don’t you think, Y/N?”
“Please,” you scoff, ears a little red from exasperation, “Her poems are not easily interpreted, Kazuha, you’re just overly entrenching them in context. You can’t make Plath’s poems all about her factual life if you want to take anything from them. The Rival is not definitely about her bastard husband’s mistress - it could just as easily be about her mother if you try to keep your mind open.”
Kazuha opens his mouth to speak but Aranaki cuts him off, “Alright, alright, the two of you. Always a pleasure to hear you go back and forth. Some very valid points have been made. But remember, this class consists of 18 other students. Let’s allow everyone to speak.”
“I don’t know about that, Y/N. You both seemed like you were having a lot of fun-”
“Fun? Hu Tao, that man is borderline misogynistic and you think-”
“I think I deserve a little more credit than a borderline misogynist, my dear Y/N.”
You stop in your tracks with a sigh when you spot Kazuha behind you, bag slung lazily over his back. He’s holding his copy of The Bell Jar by the very edge, you notice much to your dismay. “You’re going to have to work harder if you want to seem like you actually care about reading feminist work from writers who are actual women. Not just old horny men—”
“Please don’t tell me you’re still holding that time I praised Murakami against me?” Kazuha’s brows furrow, looking almost genuinely concerned about what you think of him. You roll your eyes, catching the ill-covered laugh that leaves Hu Tao, who has been observing the two of you silently.
“No, but you really don’t think Murakami’s flat female characters, who by the way only function to serve the lonely loser men, are anywhere near the same kind of writing as Plath’s honest depiction—” You cut yourself off when you catch Hu Tao throwing you a suggestive look and scoff, “Never mind, I don’t have time to have this conversation. Let’s just go, Hu Tao.”
“But—” You promptly block Kazuha’s attempt to probably retort by taking Hu Tao’s arm and marching off, carrying a growing a feeling of doubt in your chest.
“That will be $15, please.” You nod at the cashier, internally crying at how expensive a single coffee was. You feel yourself cry even louder when you rummage through your wallet to only find a total of $10.
“Um, sorry, just a moment,” you feel yourself beginning to panic, ready to just about be hit by lightning, “I couldv’e sworn I saw another—”
“Here, I’m paying for them.” You jump up at the voice beside you and you swear to God if this morning could get any worse, it’d have to be because Kazuha stepped in to save you from some kind of financial crisis that would’ve inevitably lead into a public mental breakdown.
“W-What? No, I can pay for myself— ”Thank you for buying from us. We hope to see you again.”
You’d rather not the hold up the rest of the line any longer so you step away, pulling Kazuha with you, with a scowl on your face. You shove the $10 you’d been holding into his palm which he looks at in confusion, “I’ll pay you back the rest of it later, I—”
“No, you really don’t need to do that, Y/N,” the boy smiles, a soft comforting look in his eyes that you’ve never encountered before. It annoys you.
“Honestly, would you stop cutting me off all the time?” Kazuha shuts up with a serious raise of the brown, “I was very much capable of paying for myself back there but thanks. Bye.”
You intend to distance yourself from him as much just because you’re equally embarrassed and confused by his presence, especially at having been caught in a moment of somewhat vulnerability by him of all people. You take a seat in the cafe by the window, hoping to ease your worries with a productive rush.
Of course, the universe, and specifically, one crimson-streaked head, has other plans. “What the fuck are you doing?” you question as Kazuha settles into the seat across from you, resting his bag beside him, hands coming to drum against the table - the table that you’d taken to get away from specifically him.
“I’m doing what you’re doing. Studying,” he says, pulling out his laptop, nonchalant as if the two of you aren’t after each other’s throats in class all the time. You’re actually speechless as he actually starts typing away, eyes on the screen. You let out a frustrated sigh at his behavior, unable to just ignore his presence, a weakness of yours you absolutely despise.
“Kazuha, I think you’ve asserted your compassion enough for a day. You don’t have to continue acting like you don’t actually hate me,” your voice threatens to falter when Kazuha looks up with wide eyes.
“What do you— But I don’t hate you,” Kazuha replies, not losing a second of time after you’ve spoken. You shake your head at him, a headache imminent, as you stand up. “Wait- where are you going?”
“Somewhere else. See you in class, Kazuha. Leave me alone or I’ll report you.”
You suppose you feel kind of bad about the recent encounters you’ve had with Kazuha. You only met him in class, first in a course called The Graphic Novel where you had your first argument with him (you wanted to focus on the postmodern themes of V for Vendetta, while Kazuha was overly obsessed with the art and a specific sequence of events). From there, it just seemed like the two of you couldn’t get away from each other - next it was a creative course about nonfiction where you found yourself competing with him to see who could impress the famously cold teacher.
Before you’d known, you’d settled into a sort of rhythm with Kazuha where you’d each challenge and infuriate each other, always ready to pounce. It was surprisingly an interesting part of your education - maybe even the most interesting, since you hardly were able to spend a lot of time doing anything other than work on essays and study for the next thing. But recently, you were feeling more... bitter? around him. It was unsettling, especially when suddenly it seemed like Kazuha was capable of more emotions outside of disdain for you. You weren’t stupid enough to not realize you were having fun but when Hu Tao had so explicitly pointed it out... it almost felt wrong. Like you’d been lying to yourself somehow.
You groan as you zone back into reality, coming to terms with the fact that you had made no progress with the last assignment of the Plath course. It has been a few weeks since the course ended but Aranaki had sent out a final feedback-slash-evaluative essay question asking you to talk about a favorite text from Plath. It is optional, you recall, but you physically cannot forgo the opportunity to do extra work. You hit your head in thought, wondering what you are to do with yourself.
“Having trouble picking a favorite?”
You are not proud of the squeak that leaves you in surprise as you jump around in your seat. “Kazuha! You fucking— Stop sneaking up on people in the library! I swear that’s so insensitive.”
Kazuha, clad in a red sweatshirt that matches the red streak in his hair, sits down besides you with an amused laugh. You’re met with a sweet almond scent as he shifts closer to peek at your screen. “Sorry,” he whispers, “You’re writing about Ariel? I’m surprised.”
“Why? Don’t want me writing about the same thing as you?” You gesture toward his bag, which reveals the corner of a sheet with the essay question, “I’m sure you wrote a whole pretentious thing about how shallow and trite Plath’s poetry is.” The boy pins you with an unreadable look as he looks down at his hands before looking back up at you.
What is he so serious about?
“You don’t actually think I’m a woman-hater, do you?” You are tempted to retaliate with a compilation of all the times he was even remotely dismissive of a female author, but you cannot bring yourself to the longer you look at Kazuha. His eyes are downcast and don’t meet yours when you give a preliminary laugh of ridicule, which greatly worries you. Though you find it hard to believe, Kazuha seems genuinely hurt at the idea of you perceiving him as someone against women.
“Oh, well, not really. But you did seem slightly on the wrong side when you dismissed Plath’s experiences like that. And then, making her seem like she was entirely about her hatred for her husband wasn’t a very good look, either.” You try to stay in character without actually hurting Kazuha’s feelings but he seems crestfallen either way. You begin to feel bad for some reason when he pulls out a few sheets of paper from his bag, before handing you one.
“And what is this?” You raise your brow questioningly and all Kazuha replies with is, “Read this.” You look down at the sheet and find that it is a print-out of Plath’s poem, The Munich Mannequins. Your course on Plath didn’t include this particular poem because there wasn’t much time but regardless, you’ve read the poem enough times to not have to go through it again. What catches your attention is the little scribbles in green around the printed text.
It’s Kazuha’s annotations of the poem, you realize, and already find yourself somewhat moved. You know for a fact that Kazuha does not annotate something he doesn’t find truly meaningful. “Hmm,” you look back at Kazuha with a smile that is completely unlike you. But you can hardly help it, “Your analysis of the metaphor of the mannequins is... insightful, although I don’t agree with it.”
Kazuha’s dullness suddenly melts away when you speak, a bright grin in its place. “I’m glad you think so. I realized I was spending so much effort in trying to find out what Plath actually wanted to convey that in the end, I didn’t even have my own interpretations. And looking back at it, her work is actually pretty cool.”
This time you laugh, teasingly nudging Kazuha’s shoulder, “Way to go with the academic language, Kazuha.” Your laughter only grows louder when the boy’s cheeks color slightly pink. “But I’m really happy that you were able to appreciate Plath. I think maybe we found something we agree on.”
He nods, his usual easy smile returning, “I have to admit that I only gave Plath another chance because I couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking I was a borderline misogynist.” You feel yourself flush and you cough to cover it up, “Still can’t believe you were so bothered by that comment.”
“Of course, I was,” Kazuha says matter-of-factly, “You said it so seriously. And then that day in the cafe, you seemed to truly hate me. You even accused me of hating you. I felt like I’d done something unforgivable.”
You grimace in guilt. “Sorry about that,” you pat his back hesitantly, “I was just a bit in my head back then. I don’t actually hate you. Or think that you hate me.”
“That’s good. I wouldn’t want to have you stop talking to me, I think some life-giving part of me would die.”
Here's the thing: you know how you’ve hardly been able to do anything outside of worry about your grades and keep track of your deadlines? Yes, that meant you hadn’t even enough time to have crushes, or even think about who you’re attracted. Which is why you’re caught in some real fucking trouble when you realize you like Kazuha.
Since your conversation with him in the library, something had changed between the two of you. You still made sure to battle each other fiercely in class, no doubt, but when you weren’t in class, you were actually able to hold a civil conversation. In fact, sometimes your conversations outside of class were more enjoyable than your arguments and disagreements, given that those same dissents would often turn into inside jokes outside of class.
It started with Kazuha asking you to peer-review an essay for another class (he wouldn’t dare to ask your help with a common assignment, that meant war) and you getting impressed again by his ability to analyze and argue. Slowly, it became a ritual for you to meet Kazuha after classes to work on something together, which took more time than required because you’d be bothering each other the whole time, chattering away loud enough that the librarian had banned your entrance in the library. So now you met him on the college lawn where your time together almost felt romantic.
“God, I hate myself,” you mumble into your hands as you cringe at your internal monologue. Hu Tao who’s keeping you company while you wait for Kazuha, laughs knowingly, “Stop hating on yourself for having feelings, Y/N. Believe it or not, it’s normal.”
“I know, but not for me! I’ve had like one romantic experience before and it involved hand-holding.”
“Hey, hand-holding can be pretty intimate, too,” she retorts, frowning, “I’m sure if you tried it with Kazuha, you’d actually combust on the spot.”
“Keep it down, Hu Tao, this is not exactly something I’m proud of—”
“What are you not proud of?” You freeze as Kazuha comes into sight from behind you but relax when you examine his expression and see nothing out of the ordinary.
“Nothing, just her usual spiel about hating life,” Hu Tao covers for you as she rises from next to you, smirking as she pushes Kazuha in her spot. He falls all too close to you, head hitting your shoulder.
“Careful!” You scowl at Hu Tao as you steady Kazuha with a hand on his back. She winks at you as she turns to leave, “See ya for dinner tomorrow, stupid.”
Kazuha chuckles beside you and you can feel the sound vibrate through your hand, still warm against his back, “You must be really close to her if she can walk away alive after calling you stupid.”
You cough a little as you are suddenly reminded of the proximity, thanks to how Kazuha has made no move to remove his head from against your shoulder, even though you’d retracted your hand from his back long ago. “I’m not that easily offended, you know.”
Kazuha looks amused as he shifts to look at you, much to your chagrin because fuck! you’re still way too close to him so now you’re basically sharing the same air. “So if I called you stupid—?”
“Don’t even dream of it,” you push his head off and he pulls away, laughing lowly. You sigh in relief now that you’re at a distance that won’t kill you as Kazuha pulls out a red book from inside his jacket pocket.
“What book is that?”
Kazuha holds it for you with a hesitant smile, “It’s for you, actually.” You hum questioningly as you take it and scoff when you see the title. Sputnik Sweetheart. By Haruki Murakami.
“Before you chase me away for bringing Murakami in your sights, listen to me, okay?” he says, with a hand on your elbow and you fall silent, a little nervous. “I think you should read it because this book actually has complex female characters, unlike all his other work. There’s a lesbian relationship in there and a very unexpected plot twist, too. You might like it... I think.”
The amount of effort it takes to not scream on the top of your lungs because Kazuha’s cheeks are dusted adorably red as he rants to you about the book, his eyes not meeting you and you can’t take it because he’s so shy about it all. You silently open to a random page and you swear you die right there when you see notes in pencil along the margin.
“You’ve annotated this?” you ask through a small smile. Kazuha rubs the back of his neck, “Well, yes. I usually annotate my novels. I hope you don’t mind. Think of it as having a really long conversation with me?”
You chuckle as hit Kazuha’s forehead with the book lightly, “Why the fuck would I want to have a conversation with you about a book? I’m bound to give myself a migraine.” You bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning as you continue, “But oh, well. Since you went back to Plath for me, I think I’ll give Murakami a chance.”
Kazuha pumps a fist in the air, beyond delighted, “Yes! I promise you’re going to love me after this.”
“Kazuha, I have to something to tell you,” you say, hands clutched behind your back. Kazuha turns away from the conversation he’d just been having with Aether to give you a warm look.
“What is it?” He waves goodbye to Aether, grinning when you reveal the red book he’d lent you a few weeks ago. Kazuha jumps up and down as his hands cup to hold yours and you can’t help but jump excitedly with him. “Did you finish? What did you think of it? How was his description of Miu and Sumiere? Oh, what was your reaction to Miu’s backstory?”
You laugh as you pause to form your response. “Well, I actually did not hate it. I actually enjoyed his descriptions of the women—” Kazuha squeals in excitement as you continue, “But! There was man still, you know. And his presence as the narrator of everything was a bit suffocating. So, not perfect. But dammit, the parts about Miu watching herself that night in the park and everything Sumiere writes in her letters - Ahhh, that was just amazingly disorienting.”
“So?” Kazuha grins at you, shaking you by the shoulders, “You don’t hate Murakami anymore? I succeed in convincing you that he wrote one decent novel? You love me?”
You successfully ignore the last question he asks as you reply, “I guess I don’t hate him but I can’t say he’s a good writer still. He’s definitely got some dimension but he needs to stop putting men at the center of his universes.”
Kazuha nods as he takes back the book from you, “That’s fair enough, I suppose. I didn’t expect to—” he pauses, a new kind of smile blossoming on his face as he fans through the pages, “Oh, what’s this? Did you make notes on the book?”
Shit, you’d nearly forgotten about that. “Oh, right. I thought it would be funny to respond to some of your annotations. You like some really strange paragraphs, you know.” You quickly take away the book from him before he can grin at anymore of your notes, “I made them on sticky notes so that I can remove them. I just forgot.” You begin removing the loosely glued pieces of paper when Kazuha snatches away the novel back, holding it away from your grasp.
“No! Don’t do that. I want to read them. I can’t lose this opportunity to actually get to read your annotations,” he says, a full-fledged blush on his cheeks for some reason.
You laugh awkwardly, “F-fine, weirdo. Just remove them after you read them.”
“Why would I do that?” Kazuha hugs the book protectively with an annoyingly smug smile on his face, “I’m cherishing this for the rest of eternity.”
You turn around at that, clutching at your chest as if in pain, heart racing, “W-Whatever. I’m going to study. Come if you want.”
An hour later, you fall back into the grass with a whine because you really cannot get your mind off of Kazuha, which was not exactly aided by the fact that the boy was right next to you, opting to bump knees with you as he managed to concentrate with no issues.
“Y/N? What’s wrong?” You open your eyes to find Kazuha leaning over you, arm placed next to your head. You watch as his forehead is curtained by his hair and you pout as you silently flick at a chunk of his hair. “I don’t know why you even bother to tie your hair if it’s all over the place anyway.”
Kazuha shrugs with a playful smile and is about to reply before he cuts himself off, “Oh, there’s something in hair, I think.” You reach for your hair but Kazuha beats you to it, leaning closer to your face as he gently plucks off the said something off your hair, holding it up so you can see. “It was a leaf. Heh.”
You reach for your hair self-consciously and are surprised when you find Kazuha’s fingers through the strands. You pull away just as quick you touched him but his hand chases after you, coming to capture it in his, his fingers resting through yours.
“Mhmm,” Kazuha hums delicately, face hovering dangerously close to yours, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”
You make an embarrassing choking sound before you place a hand against his chest, pushing with little effort. You avert your gaze as you speak, “S-Stop doing that.”
You can’t see it but Kazuha’s smile weakens as he asks, “Stop doing what?”
“Stuff like this. Like what you did back there with my annotations and- and- right now, this hand-holding stuff. It’s not funny, you know.”
“I don’t think it’s funny either, Y/N,” he says, “I’m always serious about you. So would you please look at me?” Your hand twitches in Kazuha’s as you glance at him and instantly turn away when you see him gazing at you. He does look serious, intense in fact as he looks at you.
His fingers tighten around yours when you suddenly feel a cold pressure against your ear. Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when you realize it’s Kazuha’s nose pressed up against your neck. “K-Kazuha, cut it out—”
“I like you, Y/N,” he whispers softly, “Actually, that’s an understatement. I really, really like you. I’ve never been so excited to have arguments with someone and I’ve never cared so much about what someone else thought about a book. You’re the smartest person I’ve met.”
You can’t believe your ears, though they turn red anyway as Kazuha pulls away to look at you. “I think you’re so beautiful. I can hardly think right when I’m around you.”
You feel breathless when Kazuha looks at you like that, with an intimacy of a lover and fumble to reply, “I- I like you, too, Kazuha. You’re cool, I guess. And ridiculously handsome.” You mumble the last part but he seems to hear it, probably because you’re so close.
“Would you go out with me?” His eyes are swimming with adoration when you finally meet them. When you nod, a gasp falls from your lips at the feeling of Kazuha’s lips against your cheek. “Kiss me already, would you?” This time, you feel his laughter through your own bones, strong and loving.
Bonus:
“I really wish you would go easy on me in class, dove,” Kazuha complains against your lips and you pull away to laugh at the slight pout in his features. You run a hand through his open hair, arranging the red strands together, “No way, babe. Sorry but sometimes, you’re just wrong.”
He deflates against your neck and you pull him inside the blankets with you with a chortle, “But if you want, we can read Mrs Dalloway together for class?” He instantly perks up, arms coming to hugging you tight, “I would love that. I want to hear your reading voice. We can even play the parts to make it more realistic.”
You groan, “No, we’re not doing that, Kazu. Please don’t make me regret this.” Regret it you do later that week, when Kazuha proudly declares to the whole class, including Miss Aranaki, that the two of you had read the assigned reading together.
various! genshin impact x reader. (albedo, childe, diluc, ganyu, jean, itto, kaeya, kazuha, keqing, scaramouche, zhongli, xiao.) - 3015 words.
synopsis: what type of high school crush would genshin characters be like to you, a hopeless romantic? will it be tragic, or straight out of a romance novel?
notes: modern! AU. long headcanons. british english used. unedited. not proofread. lowercase. some cliche romance tropes used. gn!reader. arranged in alphabetical order (but zhongli & xiao’s order is messed up bcz i don’t know my abcs… oops).
a/n: i got so, so, SOOOO carried away LMFAOOO i hope people enjoy these, i’m pretty proud of them :) tell me which one is your favourite!
ur so seggsy when u reblog aha <3
masterlist
• the school’s famous, attractive scientist. he’d often be seen slaving away within one of the spare lab rooms, doing weird experiments with his friend, sucrose. they never separated from each other, and since he seemed like the type to dislike social interactions, you never dared to approach him.
• though, one fateful day, you two met outside of school. at a daycare. you were trying to make your way to a café a friend had suggested, but with your lack of directional skills you failed miserably.
• he noticed you, surprisingly. you were so confused because?? THE albedo actually knew your name??
• albedo sheepishly explained that he was here to pick up his little sister, klee, and questioned why you were there as well. how were you going to explain to him about your embarrassing failure?
• you were forced to fess up when you saw the face of his adorable little sister, and she mentioned the name of the café you were planning to head to. albedo invites you to come with them – he absolutely loves the parfaits from there - and the rest is history :)
• nowadays, albedo invites you over to his to babysit klee (which results in sleepovers… the lil girl loves you).
• while your crush on him is over now, you fail to notice the stare he gives you whenever he’s making hot chocolate. it might just be enough for your feelings to reignite all over again.
• the notorious bad boy of the school. he was known for goofing around in class a bit too much, and hanging out with the wrong crew after school. you knew better than to interact with the likes of him, and yet, you two got along so well?? you were literally best friends??
• this caused rumors to stir about you. about how you were secretly part of a gang, how you mentioned to a classmate that you would smash all the classroom windows with a bat.
• you were drowning in embarrassment. you hid away from absolutely everyone, including all your friends that you’ve made throughout the year, in fear that they too would get the harsh treatment of others.
• though, while you were sneaking out of an empty classroom to head to your next period, you saw childe beating up a group of boys - a handful of girls looking in fear.
• you were quick to drag him away and berate childe for his behaviour, tearing up as you bandaged his battered knuckles. you asked him why he did all this, because he was undoubtedly going to get expelled, but he wouldn’t fess up.
• you later found out that he went through that crazy stunt to come to your defence. that those people you saw behind the school with him one day were the one who caused the rumors.
• now, you attend the same university and you’re like his personal babysitter. you made a promise to teucer and his other siblings that you would work hard to make childe change his ways.
Afficher davantage
Smau: in which they go on a date with your friend Warnings: angst, cursing, used Akane for everyone cause I'm lazy Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna, Yuji, Megumi, Inumaki Pt 2
Canon verse Armin Arlert x Fem!Reader Part 2
Based on a dream I had about the scouts + Armin. Also based on “the door” scene in euphoria with Fez and Rue.
CW: SEASON 3 SPOILERS, Angst (no comfort), swearing, panic attacks, reader is mean to Jean :(
Summary: After the Battle of Shiganshina and Armin inheriting the Colossal Titan, the scouts decide that Y/N cannot be on their squad anymore because it will distract Armin. Y/N is left to think Armin is dead.
Word Count 2.7k (not proofread yet sorry shawties)
**Comment for a part 2?? <3
Afficher davantage
girlhood is staying up late to read the top posts in an x reader tag
Step 2 confession. Do you ever think about how this must have looked like for their classmates? For them it would've been like, the two love-dorks that have been pining for each other for FIVE years suddenly return to school holding hands after just one random summer.
YEAH
like assuming the school goes up from grade school to middle, everyone knows abt your lil love story
and ofc they're all teasing you, which sucks for cove either way. bc if he's cold, he mainly sticks to you. and if he's warm/ in between, his other friends tease him for running to you.
omg... imagine you're in school, and you let him rest his head on your shoulder while you read a book or smth
if you're seen holding hands at any point.... it's an uproar OMG IMAGONE HOLDING HANDS UNDER THE DESK N SOMEONE BENDS DOWN TO PICK UP A PENCIL N HIT THE TABLE WHILE SCREAMING ABT U HOLDING HANDS.....
okay maybe ik I just had shitty teachers but I imagine some of the more bitter, evil teachers will try to keep you two apart. some will be like "its good for you! you should make friends!"
especially to cove, and puts the same pressure on you if you're nervous and reserved.
omg. imagine someone confesses to you or him, well if it's you cove is all "oh..." *twiddles thumbs*
he explodes when u tell him u said no bc you like someone else/are seeing someone (if you say boyfriend he screams n eventually hugs u to hide his face)
if it's him, he flounders ofc but he does say no and that he likes you very much. if they're persistent then eventually he yells that he's dating you.
yeah. no matter what he like snaps.. middle of class? lunch room? after-school pickup? yeah he'll say it in front of anyone n everyone somehow
OK im... not ngl I was just gonna agree w you n ramble a bit but I'm spiraling LOL
but imagine you get into high school, ofc some kids you knew will be there and eventually it'll spread around your high school as well
THERES PRBLY PICS TOO... say like during group songs or events, or group photos, etc. there's a 50/50 chance cove is looking at you, or you him.
omg imma have to make a whole post on school hc's... pls this is so juicy
OH MY GOD WHEN TEACHERS KNOW YOURE DATING...
"hey no handholding!" cove would jump 10ft and blush n hide his face
wrapping an arm around one another? a teacher is chastising you or pulling you apart (PLS I HAD THAT HAPPEN TO ME, I CANT RMBR HER NAME BUT LISTEN HERE MS.PRINCIPAL YOU WERE FUCKING UP MY RIZZ!!!)
omg. cove tries to rizz you all the time, no matter how minor. he just wants to be close to you ok n sometimes he's not above a lil PDA he can't help it sometimes
I imagine you definitely get caught tryna kiss too. don't let it be by your classmates or a loud mouth teacher who rats u out in front of the students or other teachers YOU NEVER LIVE IT DOWN
bruh now I wanna go to school w cove.. I'd rizz him up so bad too, he'd have to walk to math class w a blush on his face and hearts popping off him bc you've given him the Fattest kiss or flirted w him all lunch n he's LOVING IT