#and then you’re told it’s bad to think about yourself as separate and develop a shitty little superiority complex about it

[thecraftgremlin]

Anyone else have a period of time where you were trying to overcorrect from your not-like-other-girls phase and force yourself to dress and present more feminine even though it made you uncomfortable?

[impactedfates]

Detective Oblivious - Various HSR Characters x GN! Reader

★ Summary: You’re best friend lately has been acting strange. Could they have a crush on someone?! You have to get to the bottom of it…though perhaps you can start by noticing how they look at you

☆ Characters Included (Separate): Gepard, Luocha, Welt, Luka, March, Kafka

★ Genre/Trope: Romantic + Fluff + Maybe a bit of Crack

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: Genshin Ver Here // Semi-Proof Read

You knew Gepard since the both of you were young. You weren't a Silverman Guard yourself but you definitely supported your best friend when he became one. And was so proud when he later became a captain.

Lately though, he seems to be tripping over his words when he's trying to instruct some new members, and you witness all of it. It's strange though. You knew Gepard was a great teacher and mentor yet when you decide to visit you see him stumble on his words and even get strange looks from the trainees.

You were talking to Serval who simply laughed and said.

"He's distracted by a certain someone~"

But who could be occupying his mind!? You could see Serval gave you a deadpan look when she realized you were actually thinking of who could be on her brother's mind. She wanted to smack you silly but at the same time. If her lil Geppie wasn't ready to confess she can't do it for him.

You stopped visiting Gepard whilst he was training trainees or anyone in fact. And he did just fine! That's what you heard anyways when Lynx nudged you smiling knowingly. You grumbled a bit as you haven't gotten one bit closer to finding out who your friend had a crush on.

In truth, you also didn't want to know. You had feelings for the guard, but at the same time you'd be able to know if whoever took his heart was a good fit for him. Though...eventually your frustrations got the better of you, and one day. When he was free and so were you...

"WHO THE HELL DO YOU LIKE!?"

You watched as a blush crept on his face and looked at you. It seems as though his sisters have told him about how dense you were to who he liked. He took a small breath before answering you.

"O-oh...it's um...it's actually...you"

When Luocha realises he has feelings for you and they are genuine. Like, he wants to spend all his life with you. He seeks you out. He starts by gathering various things you like and asked to hang out with you. Like a date in his mind but in yours it was just what you two usually did.

You didn't even realise he was trying to be more romantic to get the mood set for when he confesses...and he could see that. He found it both annoying yet amusing with how you seemed to play off everything he did as purely platonic.

He opened a door for you when you went into a restaurant.

He pulled a chair out for you.

He even paid for your whole meal, held your hand as you walked out and even gave you a kiss. Now the good news is that at the end of the day, when he brought you home. You realised he was acting strange! The bad news is...

"Do you like the waitress that was serving us or something? You were acting so differently and we always have that waitress when we go eat at that place. So you have to like her right?"

You state, almost proudly. Luocha could only sigh and pat your head before leaving a small kiss on your cheek.

"I think I prefer the person in front of me"

When you saw that the usually calm and collected Welt seemed to be acting differently. As well as Himeko and the other trailblazers (minus Dan Heng) giggling when he was talking to you. You knew something was up, but he always told you everything?

You consulted everyone on the Express who each gave you a vague answer about how "he's just nervous" and "you'll know when he's ready" until you asked March 7th. She excitedly explained that he finally liked someone before the Trailblazer covered her mouth and scolded her for revealing his secrets.

Lucky for them though, you had no idea you were the one he developed feelings for. They weren't sure if they should be relieved you were dense to his feelings or mildly concerned.

In the following days you've compiled a lot of people you knew Welt knows. This was quite the long list considering the people he's met and you spent hours crossing out names, adding names back in and considering if he liked them or not. You were almost tempted to check his phone to see if you can spot a difference in behaviour there.

Welt eventually found the notebook you were using as your "Detective Journal" and raised it above your head as you tried to retrieve it, simply stating you were wrong with each name listed.

"Huh!? Then who do you like?"

"Simple, the one person you didn't add to the list. Yourself"

How could you not notice the way Luka always tries extra hard in whatever he's doing when he finds out you're there? He begged a bunch of his friends and such not to tell you as he wants to make it special. Wants to "mega impress you so you'll go on a date with him" (his words not mine)

This was all fine...if it weren't for the fact that to everyone else. He was being so obvious he liked you.

Anytime he wins a match he specifically looks for you to see your reaction.

Anytime you compliment something of his, perhaps his hair style or the clothes he was wearing. He always wears his hair that way more often and buys more clothes of similar styles.

He's always so attentive to you, not that he isn't to anyone else when you're all hanging out. But it's clear he's listening to whatever you say with direct care as if the words you speak will run away if he doesn't.

It's gone to the point where Seele begins ranting to Bronya about it. Crying over the fact that you can't see the tell tale signs. It all broke for her when you tell her that you think Luka likes someone but you can't figure out who. And even though she said she wouldn't tell, she ends up clutching onto your shoulders and shaking you.

"HE LIKES YOU DUMBASS"

March 7th honestly acts similar to how she always does. Just a bit more energetic when you're around. But you knew she was still acting differently, I mean she's your best friend. Surely you'd know when she's different, even just a bit.

And you attempted to figure out why she's acting differently. Finally settling on having a crush. But who could she like? She's complimented many people on their appearance before but you knew she didn't like them in a romantic sense.

You began thinking to see if she did actually like anyone in a different way and you just weren't there to see it. Then again, you and her always stuck together. You knew everyone she knew, so there wasn't any point in thinking if she met someone else.

One day when you were in her room, she went out to grab something and you noticed a book poking out from under her bed. Pulling it out you looked at the cover

"The Best Person Ever < 3”

was written. So this is it! You'll finally find out who she liked. But at the same time...you didn't want to break her trust by looking through it. You silently put the book down and slide it back under the bed, but not in time for her to walk in and see the book in hand. She quickly ran over with a blush and asked if you saw anything, to which you shook her head and said no.

She breathed a sigh of relief...until you both noticed one of the pictures fell out and oh? It's you with a heart drawn around you...that's not how she wanted to confess...

Kafka finds out rather quickly that you're trying to figure out who she likes. Who she's developed feelings for. She knew that you knew that her behaviour has changed up a bit, especially with you. How you didn't connect the dots when she out right told you she did in fact like someone is beyond everyone.

But oh she loves watching you from a distance try to find out just who got her attention. Who the lucky one is to be the item of her affection.

She messes with you, she gives you hints on who she likes but keeps them as vague as possible so that she can just watch you pout in frustration every time she says you guessed incorrectly. She just loves watching how much you try to figure it out.

But as much as she loves that, as time goes on. She does get slightly annoyed that you've guessed everyone, even twice. But never guessed yourself. So one day she tells you that she'll reveal her crush. And simply raised a mirror to your face with a smile.

"Aren't they just the cutest?~"

Anyone else find it hard to know when someone likes them? Cuz I do, hence this idea sprang forth. Not all the characters included are ones I simp for but I thought it would be interesting to add them (I literally only simp for Luocha out of the characters included tbh nsoaorgr)

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Part 18 with Luffy and Eri!Reader are sent to Amazon Lily together (If Reader does join him, my next request is going to be funny)

When Reader and Luffy finally land, they searched for some food, and found some mushrooms, only for them to both fall unconscious (Either from the mushrooms or actually getting something to eat after days of flying in the air)

Some of the Women were touching Reader’s horn (While she was asleep) since they’ve never seen anyone with a horn before, but they were shocked seeing the scars littered on her tiny body so they separated Reader from Luffy (They thought he was the one who hurt Reader since he’s a man) though she had to tell them he wasn’t (They didn’t believe her since he probably manipulated her)

Reader didn’t look at her brother when he didn’t have any clothes on because she was told by Sanji (After Franky joined) to never look there no matter what since it’s a big ‘No No’ area, especially if it’s a man or boy (She was confused about the ‘Jewels’)

The Amazon Women call Reader ‘Small One’ because of her age and tiny size

Reader and Luffy accidentally crashed in on Boa Hancock bathing and ran away from her, as she kept firing some heart shaped beam at them that did nothing (It didn’t affect them because Luffy isn’t attracted to Hancock and Reader’s very scared of how mean and intimidating she’s being *She’s not one to feel affection for others based on appearances, rather on personality*) even if Reader does gain affection for Hancock, her power would rewind herself from turning to stone

Reader was scared when Luffy had to fight to save the Women who helped them and tried to come in, only for Luffy to tell her to stay put as he doesn’t want her in danger

Though Reader does slowly start to like Hancock after she turned Marguerite and the others back from stone (As she also agreed with Luffy for them to be saved instead, as they’ll try to find their own way off the island)

Boa Hancock and her sisters find Kinship in Reader after learning about where her scars came from, as she got them from a ‘Bad Man’ (The Sisters develop fondness for Reader, especially since she’s still kind and sweet even after enduring such pain)

Hancock develops platonic feelings for Reader (Finding her adorable) as she felt weak to her knees when she saw Reader smile (Everyone felt weak seeing Reader’s sugary, closed eye smile)

However, Luffy and Reader both were horrified to find out Ace is being Executed! And rush over to Hancock to ask her to help them save their Brother Ace!

When Reader learns of Hancock’s ‘illness’ she pleads that if she can help then can Hancock help them! Only to her shock find out Hancock is actually okay! And feels relief knowing that ‘Miss Hancock’ is okay *She doesn’t realize Boa is in love with her Big Brother Luffy, as she thinks her illness is acting up whenever she sees her face get red and worriedly asks if she’s okay, which makes Boa’s face become even redder seeing Reader be so worried over her*)

I have the most ‘devious’ and ‘evil’ plan for the next request (It’s just chaotic and hilarious that’s centered around Eri!Reader and Boa Hancock) so when you reopen your request I hope you’ll like it (If you don’t want to do it it’s completely fine with me!)

Forgive me my dear, but I have other plans for Eri :3 and part 18 will be the Whitebeard War and the 2 Year Skip.

-“That bastard Kuma- I’m going to kill him when I see him! How could he do this to someone so young?!” you didn’t recognize the voice, they sounded angry, angry at the giant man who sent everyone away.

-You whimpered, your eyes opening and you found yourself surrounded by lots of unknown men, and tears quickly filled your eyes.

-The closest man, who had a tuft of yellow hair on top of his head, gently brushed some of the tears away, “Hey now Y/N- you’re safe now yoi. No tears.”

-You looked around, “Luffy- where’s Luffy?” they didn’t answer you, unable to because they didn’t know before you saw a giant man, one with a strange mustache peering at you over everyone else.

-He smiled down at you, “Don’t be scared Y/N.” your eyes went wide, shooting into a sitting position, you recognized that voice as your eyes softened, more tears welling, “Grandpa?”

-The men were quickly all panicking, seeing you in tears, not sure on what to do before someone shouted, “I wish Ace was here- he would know what to do!”

-You looked over at where the voice came from before you looked back up at Whitebeard, “Is Ace not here?”

-You felt fear when his look fell, looking upset, “No he’s not, he’s… Ace was captured, Y/N, by the marines, and they are wanting to execute him.” He didn’t sugar coat anything, something some of his sons scolded him for as you were stunned stiff.

-You then surprised everyone, wiping your tears with the back of your hands, “We need to go save him then!” your declaration quickly had laughter filling the room as Whitehead reached down, gently comforting you, “We’re already on our way.”

-Your eyes lit up brightly, “Really?” causing several heart related issues around the room before you asked what had happened, Marco, who was sitting next to you, spoke first, “We’re hoping you could tell us first.”

-So, you told them what had happened, with having fun at the amusement park, Camie getting kidnapped, Luffy punching a funny looking man in a bubble suit and you knocking his sister off the ladder to save Camie, then Kuma came and blasted everyone away.

-Whitebeard nodded softly, “That’s what we thought. You landed here on our ship in a paw print shaped crater. Seems that Kuma bastard knew that you would be safe here.” Instantly Marco and the nurses were yelling at Whitebeard, scolding him for using such language, which was rather comical to see.

-After you were cleaned up, as you weren’t heavily injured, just a little on your hands and knees, and dirty, you were brought into the galley by Izo, so you could get something to eat.

-Vesta couldn’t help but beam, giving you another cream puff, your cheeks looking like a chipmunks, as you were the center of attention, sitting on Whitebeard’s lap.

-You then spoke up, “How did Ace get captured? Ace is super strong!” hearing your praise of Ace did warm their heart, and you noticed everyone looking sad, Marco sighed, looking down at a handkerchief that was wrapped around his wrist, one that had dried blood on it.

-They told you of Thatch, and of Teach, or Blackbeard as he’s known by now, who attacked and killed Thatch for the Devil Fruit he had managed to find, and Ace went after him in revenge. The marines had been able to catch Ace when his back was turned, thanks to Blackbeard, knocking him back into their grasp.

-You were holding Marco’s hand, looking at the handkerchief, tears in your eyes, “Was Thatch nice? Was he a good big brother too?” Marco smiled gently at you, reaching up to brush a tear from your cheek, “He was- he was a goof ball, but he made good food and was a very good person.”

-You heard all you needed to know, and your horn flared to life, holding the handkerchief, and everyone froze as Thatch reformed, using his blood, much like how you did with Bellmere.

-Seeing what you were doing, Whitebeard went to stop you, as had heard from Ace that doing this would make you sick, but within only moments, Thatch was standing there, and he gasped in deeply- like he had been holding it, as his eyes shot open, clutching at his chest, shocked.

-Everyone was stunned, seeing what you had done. You smiled warmly as Thatch looked down at you and in an instant, they all now knew why the government was after you.

-You were sweating heavily, your cheeks flushed as you smiled warmly. You would have fallen off Whitebeard’s lap, had he not caught you, and instantly everyone was panicking, seeing that you had collapsed after bringing Thatch back from the dead!!

-Whitebeard and Marco were immediately shouting out orders as Whitebeard let him take you as he could get to the infirmary faster.

-Luckily it wasn’t as bad as it looked, just a nasty fever and you had fainted, and you had the best care possible as everyone was watching over you.

-Whitebeard stood on the deck of his ship, the other ships all around him as he spoke as they all were sailing towards Marineford, telling everyone around him, who all felt the same, that they were going to get Ace back, no matter what.

[hajiimes]

purple hydrangeas

pairing: suna rintarou x gn!reader tags: angst, hurt/no comfort, hanahaki au warnings: mentions of blood, surgery, and hospitals word count: 1.4k author's note: if this looks familiar at all that's cuz it's a repost from my previous blog (also hajiimes) from like 2-3 years ago lolol !! i revamped it and am reposting it here :D i'm sorry i was gone for so long it's been a wild time lol

masterlist

There’s a tickle in your throat and pain in your lungs. It’s been there for quite a while, so long that you’ve already forgotten what it felt like without the petals clogging up your lungs. You look at him, so unreadable, so unreachable . No one had told you that falling in love would hurt so much. 

It’s silly, you tell yourself. Childish. Dumb. Foolish. First love, a deadly fate. 

Suna Rintarou sits to your left in school and you cast glances at him whenever you’re sure that he’s paying more attention to doodling in his notebook than you. In your observations, you learn that Suna Rintarou dog-ears the pages of his textbooks to save his spot. You learn that he chews on the eraser at the end of his pencil when he thinks, leaving small indents in it when he pulls away to write. You learn that more often than not, Suna spends class time drumming his fingers on his desk, idly staring out the window instead of paying attention to the board. 

Suna isn’t the type to forget any pens or pencils, but he always forgets to bring extra paper. You couldn’t count the number of times he’d leaned over the aisle separating the two of you to ask for a sheet of paper, to which you’d happily obliged every time—always willing to lend a helping hand. Those reluctant smiles he sent you out of gratitude always seemed to brighten your day.

Honestly, it’s no surprise that you developed Hanahaki. 

He makes small jokes under his breath about classwork, little quips he doesn’t think anyone can hear. He offers you a pen whenever you forget one, accompanied with a small note stating ‘Give it back when you’re done’ wrapped around it. You end up keeping those notes, stuffing them between spare pages of your textbooks and notebooks. 

Suna is a boy of few words, but when he speaks you find yourself hooked on every one of them. Your friends call it puppy love. They call it a little kid’s crush. They tell you that in a month you’ll forget all about it and move on to some other guy. 

You don’t tell them that you probably won’t make it another month. 

The coughing fits become more and more frequent, each one right after the other. They get worse during school, during those hours when you’re near him. Purple petals litter your desk and pile into your hands, but you just discard them into your school bag with reckless abandon. 

Your friends approach you to ask if you’re okay. An easy, practiced smile stretches across your face and you wave them off like nothing is wrong. You tell them as much, you just have bad allergies! Nobody mentions that it’s not allergy season. You think it’s either out of mercy or pity that they leave you alone after that. 

Sometimes you think you can see Suna looking at you during class when you’re trying to discretely spit petals in cupped hands, but you always brush it off as a trick of the light. You think you can feel his eyes on you when you’re talking to your friends, watching as you carefully place your hands over the stray petals you forgot to brush off the desk. You smile and wave off your friends’ concerns like you always do. 

He never speaks up, never says anything about how your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

Suna goes on with his life like nothing is wrong, pretending he doesn’t see you cough up purple petals into your hands out of the corner of his eye during third-period math. He pretends that he doesn’t see you each day in his peripherals, too preoccupied with your own impending demise to worry about the functions written out on the whiteboard. 

Even though things have changed so drastically for you, Suna stays the same.

You learn that he mumbles out the words when he’s reading something. You learns that he bounces his leg underneath the desk when you’re taking a test. You learns that he’s quiet, but that doesn’t mean he’s shy. When his friend—Miya Osamu, from the volleyball team—is around, he’s much more talkative than usual. You learn that he drops his bag on his desk loudly every day to wake himself up in the morning, the slamming of the books in the bag waking you up in turn.

It’s cruel, you think to yourself in those selfish moments you allow yourself to consider him between the last toll of the school bell and the beginning of club activities, watching as Suna packs his schoolbag and slings it carelessly over his shoulder. He spares you one single glance, his lips a flat line as he makes a beeline past his peers lingering at their desks and heads out the classroom door. You watch Suna walk away like he always does, sparing you a single merciful glance as you dump the last of the school day’s purple hydrangeas into the trash. It’s cruel that he doesn’t know the effect he has on you.

It’s getting worse. 

Your parents beg you to tell them who it is, and how they can stop it from happening. They offer to switch your school, to pull you from club activities, to move prefectures if it helps. Your mom begs you to consider surgery; she pleads that you’re too young to die like this. You don’t care—you would rather die in love than live without it. 

Each day you live with the disease is a day your body grows weaker and weaker. Your body runs cold and your head feels heavy every moment you has to hold it up. Your teachers, luckily, are merciful. They don’t say anything when you rest your head in class—they know your situation all too well. You can feel the pitying glances they send you during breaks and passing periods, their stares burning into the back of your head. 

It comes upon you suddenly, like a summer storm, during history class. Bile and flowers rest in your throat and, without a word, you excuse youself to the bathroom—just barely making it there in time.

Flowers bloom in your lungs, growing more and more until the petals fill your throat and spill out of your mouth. It hurts, you want to scream out, It hurts so much, but when you opens your mouth to speak, petals fall out in red, bloody clumps in lieu of words. You clutch at your throat and squeeze, hard, in a futile attempt to force the flowers out. 

It doesn’t work.

They find you in the second-floor school bathroom three minutes later. Petals surround you like a halo and, if it weren’t for the blood on your lips and the odd placement, one might think it’s some sort of art project. 

You remember what happened in flashes. You’re rushed to the hospital. The doctors call your parents. You’re rushed into the operating room. You fall asleep, Suna’s name on his lips. 

The flowers inside of your lungs are gone when you wakes, but a dull throbbing sits in their place. There are no flowers in the hospital room, no bouquets—something you find yourself grateful for. It’s funny somehow, the caution in which the people around you treat those silly little blossoms. It’s almost laughable, the way your family acts like you’ll break at the mere sight of a petal. Like you’re fragile.

It’s not long before you’re cleared to return to school, cleared to return to your fifth-row seat. People crowd you before class, each one asking if you’re okay, how the surgery was, and what it was like to have the disease. You wave them off with an easy smile, only saying that you’re glad to be back. 

There’s a boy who sits to your left. He holds his pencil tightly in his hand, plump pink lips wrapped around the end as he chews lightly on the eraser. His leg bounces with deep-rooted anxiety whenever you glance over at him. 

In the transition between second and third period, he passes a note with the words ‘Welcome Back’ written on it in hurried chicken scratch. You think it’s meant to be a joke. 

When you look up at the boy, you finally notice that his gray-brown eyes are watching you. You raise your eyebrows, watching as the corners of his lips turn upwards—an offering of the smallest of smiles. This classmate is familiar somehow, a creeping presence in the back of your mind. A gap in memory that should be filled, a cavity in your heart. You know that you’ve met before—it’s obvious in the way he’s looking at you. 

For some reason, you can’t remember his name.

[teenidlegirl]

꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘 .ᐟ

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 ┆ 𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐬

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!civilian!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

. ˚◞ ♡ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚⠀˖ ࣪ ༘ since the aftermath between you and miguel, you went your separate ways. occupied with work and other shenanigans but the heartbreak still lingers.

. ˚◞ ♡ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕⠀˖ ࣪ ༘ angst, post-heartbreak, hurt/no comfort, swearing, mentions of past character death, a filler tbh

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

it’s been three days since you last saw miguel. three days since he basically told you to fuck off, get the hell out of his life. three nights of endless teary nights he caused. those salty tears were all because of that fucking asshole who broke your heart.

“i should never have met you.”

that phrase plagued your mind; an endless nightmare. you can’t believe he said that. it was a stab to the heart. a heart that would always beat fast for him. you truly believed he cared about you, liked you at the very least. but now he admits he regrets meeting you? that broke your heart because you actually liked for him. cared too much for him. shit you were developing feelings for that bastard but now that was thrown out the window.

a man who you weren’t even in a relationship with broke your heart. when you broke up with your ex, you didn’t cry as much over him like miguel.

that proves how much you care for miguel.

well, cared for because now you’re not friends anymore. nah that’s a fucking lie. deep down, you still care for him no matter what. that’s what hurts the most, you still care for that asshole.

those daily visits to your apartment, finding him on your balcony and inviting him in, stopped. and goddamnit you miss it so much. how brightly you would smile when he’d land on your balcony. watching daisy get excited with her cute poofy tail wagging when she sees him. those little chitchats you two would engage in while sipping on coffee or munching on whatever pastry you recently bought. god just thinking about those memories makes want to you bawl your eyes out (you already have been).

why does it hurt so bad when it shouldn’t have?

why are you still moping about some guy who pushed you away?

except… he wasn’t just any guy.

he was someone you deeply cared about. someone you trusted wholeheartedly. someone who visited you and hung out with you over some coffee or snack. someone who gifted you your favorite flower. someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer and practically begged you to let him repay you. someone who opened up his past to you because he trusted you. someone who pulled an all-nighter just to make sure you slept okay after experiencing a near death experience. someone who cared about you.

fuck — it hurts so much.

honestly, you want to go find miguel and tell him ‘to go fuck himself’ for making you feel like this. but, that would only make things worse. only add more salt to the already fucked up wound.

other than moping around and crying, you drowned yourself into work. can you even say drowned since you actually drowned, at least almost? hell yeah because dark humor is the best humor. you went back to work like nothing happened. luckily everything happened over the weekend so you didn’t miss days. although, your coworkers and even your boss noticed a change in your demeanor. quiet, pessimistic, gloomy. no iconic sassy or sarcastic remarks. you’re one of the funniest people in the company, everyone would always laugh at your jokes or remarks. laughter would fill the room. but now it was just silence. people were concerned, including your boss. one day he called you in and asked what’s going on. you simply said it was a family issue. he sensed it was something more but he didn’t push the subject further. he suggested giving you some time off but you kindly declined and insisted on working like usual. not only is your boss a smart man but he cares for his employees, especially you since you’re one of his best. but he also knows you’re stubborn so he accepted but encouraged you to not overwork yourself and take breaks.

and you did followed his advice. when you returned home, you indulged in your hobbies. you got back on track with your bullet journal, writing down events and filling in trackers for certain topics. you did some coloring in your big coloring book of mandalas while listening to music. played video games with your online friends. go on walks with daisy at the local park. doing things you enjoy as an attempt to forget how shitty the past week has been. while having fun and enjoying your time, miguel still lingers in mind.

not only him but your other spider friends. you miss them terribly, especially hobie. you can’t visit them since you destroyed your watch and you don’t wanna drive there. one thing you regret is not having a method to contact any of them. maybe you shouldn’t have thrown your watch but you didn’t want anything that had connections to miguel.

except for that white tulip.

it’s slowly deteriorating but remains in the vase on your nightstand. every time you wake up, you stare at it as the memory of him giving it to you replays in your mind. you smile each time at the cute memory.

the heartbreak still lingers. no matter what you do, miguel is always on your mind. sometimes you wonder how he’s doing, probably yelling a lot and is a total mess like you. the thought makes your heart ache but what could you do? the bastard wanted this to happen. it’s his fault; his cause.

but like mentioned before, you still care for him.

and it fucking hurts.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

three days of fucking hell.

three days of torment and regret.

he fucked up for a second time and it hurts way more this time. he hurt you again and miguel hates himself for it, causing you pain. guilt and regret consumed his entire being like a poison fruit, consuming up his already broken heart. he lost you for a second time and possibly he lost you forever.

he had let you go to protect you.

protect you from himself.

protect you from the dangers of his life.

miguel couldn’t bare losing another person he cared about. he couldn’t lose someone again. he couldn’t lose you. but he did, just not in that way. pushing you away was the only way you’d be safe, away from him and the dangers that surrounds his life. superheroes and civilians aren’t meant to be together. to be a hero, there has to be villains which equals to danger and endless violence. when you get close with a hero, whether you’re their friend, relative or lover, you’ll always have a target on your back. villains will strike the hero’s heart, their weakness: loved ones. miguel lost one, his beautiful daughter. whether she was from a different universe, she was his daughter no matter what. his whole world suddenly taken from him due to his actions. his poor gabriella vanished from his hands, crying out to him before disappearing forever right in front of his eyes.

grief and pain consumed his heart, only black with no remaining love inside. just pure self loathing. every spider-person suffered great losses, it’s part of being a spider-person, the canon. miguel’s was a different level of loss; by his own hands. that’s why he shut himself out, closed off close connections with anyone, refused to allow himself to be vulnerable with anyone. concealed his heart, locking it with a chain from allowing others to open it.

but look what happened with you.

you unlocked his heart, making him feel vulnerable. making his heart flutter every time he saw you, that beautiful smile or laugh of yours. those sassy remarks that he always enjoyed, even if he rolls his eyes or grunts. being with you made him feel happy, safe and vulnerable. it’s like a warm feeling that he wants to stay in and never leave. miguel never believed he would experience those feelings again.

you made him feel those things. you made him feel love once again. you made him believe in love again.

and yes, miguel fell in love with you.

but the fear of losing you betrayed everything, consuming his already fragile mind. it was one of the most painful decisions he made, letting you go in order to protect you. letting go of his heart.

sometimes, heroes don’t get a happy ending.

miguel still watches over you through the same monitor of your apartment building and street. those scarlet eyes following your tiny figure through the screen, filled with hurt and guilt. even in separate paths, he still looks out for you and protects you from afar. the only way he can still see you, even if it’s through a screen. miguel will always look out for you.

your protecter from afar.

ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  ˖ ࣪ ༘  @loser-alert @keepitreal001 @iamperson12280 @nostalgicdaira @flordelalunas @oharasfilipinawife @cho-coquette @lavenderslemonade @palesatan @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @lilscast @beanieboy23 @dorck26 @kakabskbskdnd @4crew @deputy-videogamer @36namey @sin4tra @holographicang3l @migueloharasoulmate @darlingz99 @opalesquegirl @freehentai @rinverse @colorfulbluebirdpainter @razertail18 @shadowzena43 @undf-stuff @miatjie @leshasnolife

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[punk4ndisorderly]

light on

The one where Y/N is the daughter of a legendary Team USA coach and used to attend the development program with the boys. 8 years after they last saw each other in person, a reunion brings Jack and Y/N back into each other’s lives... and hearts.

if you keep the light on, i'll keep the light on

VI VII - knockin' on heaven's door VIII

Don’t let her get away again.

Trevor's words resounded in his head as he closed the door behind him. He looked up, his eyes landing on her. There she was, as beautiful as ever, leaning against the wall, waiting for him.

“I know what I’m getting him for his birthday.” Y/N snickered.

“You happen to know David Beckham?” the brunette man smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I happen to know a really good cardboard cut-out manufacturer.”

Y/N pretended to be deep in thought.

“Mmm… Close enough.”

“Well, time to hit the sack. These bags aren’t going anywhere if I keep on staying up all night.” she joked, pointing to the dark circles under her eyes.

He frowned, hesitating for a second before he used his index fingers to cover the faint blemishes above her cheekbones.

“What bags?” the Devils' player grinned.

Y/N scrunched up her nose, placing her hands over his.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re impossibly charming, Mr. Hughes?”

“Yeah… You… About ten times this weekend.” Jack smirked, earning himself a playful slap in the arm. “Hey!”

“Get yourself some rest, Rowdy… I’ll see you in the morning.” she smiled, walking away from him.

He did the same, almost turning the corner when he heard her voice from the other end of the hallway.


“Hey, Hughes…”

“Yeah?”

“You must be really tired, because you have been running through my mind all day long.” Y/N said in a mocking seductive way, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Mine was way better.” the brunette man shrugged.

“It was not!” she scoffed, en route to her room.

“Yes it was!” he half-shouted, going his own way.

*

 Back in his room, he couldn’t wait to take a steaming hot shower, quickly undressing himself and letting the water relax his tired muscles and racing mind.

This was it. This was the last night of the reunion and in the morning they’d both go their separate ways for saints know how long. He had some work to do in Los Angeles and Y/N had to go back to the hospital in New York and take care of her daughter.

Jack didn’t think he’d be dreading to leave Plymouth when he arrived two nights before. He had no idea Y/N still had such a hold on him. Back when he was sixteen or seventeen anything she did would make him go weak in the knees for a second, but that had been a long time ago, a schoolboy crush. Why did he suddenly feel like his heart skipped a beat every time he was around her?

Must be Plymouth, he tried to convince himself.

The Devils' player put his boxers on along with the shorts he had slept in the night before, not bothering to retrieve its corresponding t-shirt from his suitcase.

Finally lying down after a long day, Jack couldn’t help but notice how light he felt. The heaviness in his chest was no longer there. The idea of being in the same place as his ex didn’t seem so bad anymore. He was free, and he sure as hell was willing to let love make its way to him. Love. Love like he had never felt before, the kind of love Y/N had talked about. Y/N.

Jack shook his head, taking his phone from the nightstand, dialing his brother's number.

“Hey Quinny.”

“No, I’m not letting you borrow my motorcycle.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jack? Sorry, I thought you were Luke. What’s up, bro?”

“I’m calling because…”

“Is this about Y/N? ‘Cause mom bet dad you’d be too much of a wuss to do anything about this cute little thing you two had going on this weekend.”

“Thanks mom.” he groaned.

“Spill it, I’m watching Game of Thrones and shit is about to go down.”

“I think I might feel something for Y/N. I don’t know what it is, but….”

“You think?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t been putting as much thought into it as everyone else apparently.” Jack hissed.

“Okay, okay, chill… Are you freaking out or something?”

“What do you think?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re freaking out for no reason, you handsome bastard.” Quinn reasoned. “You should just let her know.”

“Things are going to get awkward and she’ll pull away from me. I’m not risking losing her friendship over feelings I’m not completely sure about.” he sighed, running his hand through his wet hair. “I just really want to be one hundred percent certain this isn’t a rebound. Y/N's too good for that.”

“It will never be about a rebound with Y/N. Take your time to find that out, but you’ll eventually get to the same conclusion I have, little brother.”

“I want to make sure this doesn’t stem from my break-up with…”

“The wicked witch of the East?”

“Quinn.”

“Sorry, just getting that out of my system.” his brother apologized, without really meaning it. “So, what are you going to do about this whole thing?”

“Nothing. I can’t really think straight with Y/N around, so I’m guessing as soon as we’re away from each other I’ll get a clearer view of what the hell is going on in my life.”

“Alright, you do that. I’m going back to my boy Jon Snow. Text me when you grow a pair. Love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too.” Jack chuckled, rolling his eyes and hanging up the phone.

Thunder roared outside, making him jolt slightly.

“God, not again…” he mumbled, getting under the covers.

Jack closed his eyes, taking a minute to simply taking a minute to simply breathe in and breathe out. Did he actually tell his brotjer he had feelings for Y/N? Did he actually have feelings for her or was he just going out for a rebound? A few minutes before he was dreading Monday morning, but now he couldn’t wait to leave. He needed to get away from Plymouth and her so he could figure out why how had dreamt about getting intimate, why his palms got sweaty whenever she approached him, why he had been a blabbering mess the entire weekend. He wasn’t used to not being in control of his own emotions and the confusion he was experiencing certainly scared him.

The Devils' player had always struggled with voicing and understanding his feelings and that bothered him. How was he supposed to find the missing piece of his puzzle if he didn’t know what it’d feel like when he did?

A sudden knock on the door startled him. Jack opened his eyes, waiting to make sure it wasn’t his imagination. Not long after the first knock, he heard it again. Getting up from the bed, he padded his way to the door, ready to tell Trevor or Alex off for nagging him at two o’clock in the morning.

“It’s really bad out there…” she almost whispered, her doe eyes looking up at him while she bit her bottom lip and fiddled with her fingers.

“Hu… Yeah, it really is.” the brunette man agreed, almost slapping himself to make sure he wasn’t sleeping.

“Do you… Mmm… Mind if I…” Y/N began, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“No, not at all, come in…” Jack said before she completed her sentence. She’d told him she didn’t like being alone during storms, but he found himself wondering why she’d come to him, of all people.

The doctor took in his appearance: his toned muscles on full display, his hair disheveled and slept-in, his gorgeous blue eyes filled with genuine concern looking into her own. She nodded curtly and walked in, waiting for him to close the door and guide her through the dark room.

Jack placed his large hand on her lower back, leading her inside.

Climbing into his bed, she looked defenseless and, honestly, a little bit panicked. The singer joined her, laying on the other side of the king-size bed.

“I don’t really know why these have such a huge effect on me. I think it has to do with my fear of facing the wrath of something way bigger than myself. Can you believe nature has the strength to build something up from scratch and then completely destroy it when it pleases?”

“I never really thought about it. I think nature has its ways to make things right, one way or another. Right now it’s pouring outside, but tomorrow morning the sun will be shining as bright as ever. That’s just the way it works.”

“That doesn’t really help…” Y/N murmured, tucking herself in and looking at the drapes that hid the storm raging outside.

“I’m right here, okay? You’re not alone anymore. You can sleep now, alright?”

She didn’t answer, opting to scoot closer to him. Something about Jack Hughes always made her feel incredibly safe, and if sleeping next to him meant she’d feel that, she’d do it.

“Is it weird for you if I’m this close?”

“No, don’t worry about it.” he gulped. “Do you want me to put a shirt on?”

“You don’t need to. Just lay here with me, please.” Y/N pleaded softly.

This is not helping, Jack he thought, mentally beating himself up for not getting up and putting something on.

He could feel her hot breath close to his skin, her fingertips barely grazing against his toned chest.

Lightning struck once again, making Y/N wrap her arms around his torso, burying her head on the crook of his neck. The singer inhaled and exhaled deeply, returning her embrace, pulling her closer to him.

“Where’s your happy place?”

“What?” she raised her head, looking up at him.

“The place where you feel the happiest person alive?”

“Home, with my girl.”

Aleksander smiled at the mention of Joey, drawing circles on Y/N back.

“Okay, pretend you’re home. Joey's in her bedroom, asleep and dreaming about… What do little girls dream about these days?”

“She has a thing for butterflies and unicorns.” the doctor chuckled.

“Alright, unicorns and butterflies. She’s dreaming about those. You’re in your own bed, all snuggled up, everything’s quiet and there’s nothing that can get to you. Not the storm, not nature, not anything else. Just stay in your happy place.”

“Thank you…” she hugged him tighter, hearing his heart beat a little bit faster.

“For what?”

“For always being an amazing guy. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that. And for letting me practically grope you like I’m doing right now.”

He let out a hearty laugh, kissing her forehead.

“Anytime.”

Y/N closed her eyes, sighing contently.

“Do you think Z dreams about David Beckham?”

“He probably does.”

“Dork.”

“Aw, leave him alone. Don’t you have a celebrity crush?”

“Nah…”

“You so have! Tell me who it is!”

“Nope, not going down that rabbit hole…”

“Please?” she pouted.

“You’re evil, woman…”

“Yeah, yeah, come on.”

“Hugh Jackman.”

“Hugh Jackman?”

“Yes. Have you watched Les Mis?”

“I have…”

“He’s a great singer, he’s got a cool and he’s ripped as fuck. Plus, he really works the charm. That’s celebrity crush material right there.”

“Point taken.” she surrendered, patting his chest. “Who knew you were so good at picking men? Maybe someday you could help me out with my poor choices.”

“Trust me, we both suck at this love thing, it’s the blind leading the blind.”

“This while puzzle thing has about a thousand pieces to put together, we’re doomed.”

“You can always find love at eighty-five, like that duchess from Spain.”

“Very funny.” Y/N chuckled, pinching his side.

The Devils' player continued to mindlessly trace random patterns on her exposed skin, trying desperately to keep his mind from going all hazy with her presence and inebriating scent.

“Hey Y/N…”

“Mmm?”

“Do you really think I’m going to get the picture on the box?” he sputtered.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“I…”

“Hey, look at me.” Y/N demanded, reaching up and grabbing his chin, turning his face to her. “You’re getting the picture on the box. I promise you.”

“I’ll take you up on that.” he murmured.

“Can you believe how fast the weekend went by?”

“Time flies by when you’re having fun.”

“We had a good run, didn’t we?”

“Of course we did…” he grinned. “Good night, Mess.”

“Sweet dreams, Gretz.”

She nuzzled into his chest, finding it weird how it felt so right and natural. They had hung out for years and worked together on plays, even kissed for the sake of it, but somehow this time it was different. No coaches, no team, no buzzer, no alcohol, just pure intimacy and friendship. That had to be it.

His chest raised slowly, coming back down at the same pace; Jack was now asleep, but his grip on her remained tight.

Y/N closed her eyes, finally allowing herself to rest.

“I’m going to miss you the most.” she whispered.

[thewritingmagician2022]

The Tortured Poets Department (Taylor Swift) - Dateables Part 1

Okay, this album has been by far the hardest to do for the boys. Some of them jumped out at me really quickly but most of these took a lot of thinking and, when thinking failed, I turned to the vibes. A lot of these songs are dark, sad, or introspective which doesn’t lend itself so well to healthy, happy relationships - just as a warning. So here’s part 1 - TTPD the original 17 tracks. There will be a part 2 next week with the songs from the anthology.

Levi: TTPD

Sometimes, I wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me But you told Lucy you'd kill yourself if I ever leave And I had said that to Jack about you, so I felt seen Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be 'Cause we're crazy

This song is a love song even though the person is also making fun of the person they were with, which just seems fitting. It really highlights how both people can be so completely not stable or develop codependency when you’re guided by strong feelings rather than logic. I think Levi is absolutely one of those people who, once he’s in love, is 100% dedicated to his partner and would lowkey be suicidal if that person ever left him. I’m sorry, I say it with love, but Levi absolute is capable of that toxicity. It’s part of his envy, you know? If he can’t have you, there’s no point to anything. I can also imagine MC telling him that they’re just two idiots in love, not some super important people with a modern day perfect love story so he can’t go around over romanticizing everything and getting swept up in the glamour of a relationship rather than the actual relationship itself. 

Lucifer: Fortnight

I touched you for only a fortnight I touched you, I touched you I love you, it's ruining my life

The sound is what leads me to Lucifer’s choices most of the time and this song has the sound/vibes that fit the most for my vision of him. I also think Lucifer is so entirely not thrilled with loving MC; it was never his plan and he’s a lot more reluctant to acknowledge those feelings than some of the other dateables. He’s never struggled with separating friendship or sex from love but, with you, he gets caught up in it. It doesn’t take long, just your brief stint in the Devildom, to make a permanent mark on him and lead him into a love that can’t be ignored or forgotten. He loves you and it’s ruining his life to know that that love will have to end when either you leave or change your mind or die eventually. 

Diavolo: Down Bad

I'll build you a fort on some planet Where they can all understand it How dare you think it's romantic Leaving me safe and stranded

I see this song as MC post Diavolo after he breaks up with them. He’s the kind of person who will always want to put his partner first, even if that means breaking both of their hearts. He loves you more than anything else in this world so he will do anything to make sure you’re safe. Once it’s time for you to return home to human realm, he’s going to to let you go and wish you the best. There’s nothing you can say to him that will make him change his mind and let you stay, not when it’s so much safer and easier for you back there. He knows you can find a good life back home but you know that you’ll never be able to see the human realm the same way again after your adventure. How can you ever go back to normal after that kind of life and love? You can’t and you hate him for taking that away from you. You’d rather be damned and happy with him than safe at home; fuck everything else. 

Mammon: My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

'Cause I knew too much, there was danger in the heat of my touch He saw forever, so he smashed it up, oh, oh My boy (My boy), only breaks his favorite toys, oh, oh

I love Mammon so much that it actually hurt a little to make this his song but I think it just fits him very well. The sound, the lyrics, the idea that a man can love you so much that he has to break your heart. Mammon loves you but Mammon also knows that he destroys everything he touches. He’s scummy and a cheat and thoughtless and selfish and the list goes on. He’s happy with you, happier than he’s ever been in his entire life, but he knows he’s only going to bring you down if you stick around. He does his best to do right and give you the world but it’s always hanging by a string, his sin keeping him one misstep away from losing it all. So he does the only thing he can for both of your sakes - he runs. He’d rather you hate him for leaving than hate him once you realize who he really is. 

Solomon: But Daddy I Love Him

Now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned Screaming "But Daddy I love him!" I'm having his baby No, I'm not, but you should see your faces I'm telling him to floor it through the fences No, I'm not coming to my senses I know he's crazy but he's the one I want

The song sounds like Solomon to the very core. Something about this man makes me think feral country music just fits. Solomon is definitely considered a bit of a madman by anyone who knows him; you try being sane when you’ve lived for thousands of years and have the rest of eternity to go. We all know MC was warned up and down about the shady sorcerer but they ended up falling for him anyway. They don’t care about his past or reputation or mental stability and, honestly, the more people push against the union, the more compelling it is. Deep down, Solomon is a good man and he’s good for MC. They may be a chaotic pair but they love each other to death and have fun the whole while, just them against the world. 

Barbatos: Fresh Out the Slammer

And no matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know what's at stake here

Finding one for Barbatos was a lot tougher than I expected honestly. The sound of the album fits with him but none of the songs were really sticking with me when I thought about him. This song was the closest I could get because it’s about Taylor serving her time (aka dating someone and suffering) and leaving to return to the person she really wants. I think of this as MC going through everything the brothers and Diavolo put them through, including dying, and how they’re so ready to move on from everything. MC has made a lot of mistakes and they would be afraid to make them with anyone else but with Barbatos there’s no worry about that because he knows everything and is always going to keep them on the right path. He’s there for them every time without fail, waiting for them to ‘come home’ and offering a safe place to land when everything goes wrong. 

Simeon: Guilty as Sin

What if the way you hold me is actually what's holy? If long-suffering propriety is what they want from me They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly I choose you and me religiously

This song was the very first one to come to me and it was like a lightning strike. Like, hello? Simeon who spends all of his grappling with his less than platonic feelings towards MC. He keeps it sweet, keeps it chaste, keeps it clean but, in his head in the darkness of his room at night, his thoughts are anything but. MC is the only person who makes Simeon feel more like a man than an angel. He feels so so so guilty for the thoughts he has and even though he doesn’t act on them, he feels like he’s just as guilty as if he did because the thoughts are just so strong and never ending. Then we get to watch as he loses this internal struggle against himself and his upbringing until he’s right at MC’s feet, ready to receive whatever they’ll give him. He chooses them because surely nothing they offer him could ever truly be wrong. 

Satan: I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

They shook their heads sayin', "God, help her" When I told 'em he's my man (I told 'em he's my man) But your good Lord didn't need to lift a finger I can fix him, no, really, I can

Satan is great. He’s typically polite and studious and vaguely charming. However, no one can ever forget that he is made up of the darkest parts of Lucifer. To see Satan lose his temper and unleash is sin is to be in serious danger. That’s why the citizens are more terrified of this brother than they are of most of the others. There’s something so deeply disconcerting about a demon that seems so tame having such a wild and deadly side. When you get together with him, onlookers are holding their breath. They warn you about the risks, about how easy it can be to flip the switch in him once he’s passionate, but you’re not worried. You’ve spent all of your time in the Devildom navigating dangerous situations and even more dangerous demons who actually wanted you dead. You’re not afraid of Satan; you know you’re the only one who can tame him and, truly, he’s such a good boy it won’t be very hard work at all. 

Asmo: I Can Do it With a Broken Heart

All the pieces of me shattered as the crowd was chanting, "More" I was grinnin' like I'm winnin' I was hittin' my marks 'Cause I can do it with a broken heart

This is possibly the most depressing song on the album lowkey. It’s so cheerful sounding and you can dance and sing your heart out but the lyrics make you want to cry. I think this song is so Asmo coded because we watch him perform for his fanclub and for strangers all the time. He always has to look his best, be charming, be flirty. He’s expected to be this wonderful ray of sunshine to everyone he meets and to never show a single flaw - that includes any negative feelings as well because, let’s be honest, emotions can be very ugly things to witness. So he keeps any anger or sadness or bitterness tucked carefully away where no one can see it. You won’t ever see Asmo fall apart in public. You won’t ever set it at all, actually, because Asmo can live through the worst things in the world and still come out a superstar on the other side and you don’t get there by letting anyone see you cry. 

Belphie: Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? Did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed? Were you writin' a book? Were you a sleeper cell spy? In fifty years, will all this be declassified? And you'll confess why you did it and I'll say, "Good riddance" 'Cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden

Belphie, Belphie, Belphie. I would’ve given him something lighter if I could have but, with the options I was offered, this song was truly the one that made the most sense. Taylor feels so incredibly betrayed and confused in this song; it’s less about wanting revenge or belittling the man behind it and more about getting some closure. MC doesn’t see it coming at all when Belphie goes in for the kill. To them, they have a wonderful friend (maybe something more), someone they’re doing their best to save, only to have that person turn right around and stab them in the back. It’s heartbreaking and trust shattering, and MC can’t help all of the questions running through their mind at the end about why Belphie is doing what he’s doing and, in the end, the why doesn’t matter as much anymore either - just that he was willing to commit such betrayal says everything they need to know. 

Beel: The Alchemy

Call the amateurs and cut 'em from the team Ditch the clowns, get the crown Baby, I'm the one to beat 'Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight thе alchemy?

Any song about Travis belongs to Beel simply because they are the same person. Let’s be honest, what else could I possibly have put with him? Three guesses what his song is for part two. Anyway, Beel is just here to love and be loved. The man has been struck by tragedy and kept his heart closed to any one but his family for a long time but then you come along and he starts to open up again. You have a bunch of other demons fighting for your time and attention but you know that Beel is the only one for you. There’s no point in pursuing anyone else or him trying to fight the growing feelings because you’re going to end up together regardless. It doesn’t matter how slow it moves or how many times one of you goes back and forth either - the alchemy is going to turn whatever relationship you have into gold and it’ll last. 

[designstudiotitta]

Doki doki literature club mods natsuki

Doki doki literature club mods natsuki how to#

Doki doki literature club mods natsuki mod#

Do not expect a complete, polished experience at this stage in development.

Doki doki literature club mods natsuki mod#

Please feel free to clone the repository, suggest new content by raising an issue, or try out the mod yourself and let us know about any problems by raising bug reports. However, if you are interested in helping to making Just Natsuki the best it can be, we welcome your support! If you are looking for a complete mod experience, this is not something we are ready to offer just yet: please rest assured that announcements will be made when the time comes, and we make every attempt to keep our community updated through our official communication channels (GitHub, Twitter and Discord). In addition, we unfortunately no longer offer support to those running the (now-outdated) older version of Just Natsuki, as we are focusing our efforts on a version that will completely supercede the old distribution. Please note that as Just Natsuki is currently undergoing a complete overhaul, any/all mod content under the overhaul is liable to change or be removed without prior warning. Please read this document thoroughly before downloading and installing the mod! Made possible thanks to our contributors: Record all of a character's audition lines in one file, with a separate file for each character.An After-Story style mod for Natsuki from DDLC, focusing on building a post-game relationship between Natsuki and her player (you!). Save all files in 44100 hz mono mp3 format Recording & Sending Instructions (as given by this website)

Doki doki literature club mods natsuki how to#

If you want to know how to write a poem, you should be learning from someone really good at it like me." "Your poem doesn't make any sense at all. "If you're going to judge, you can do it through the glass on that door!" She likes baking, manga, and writing poems about cute things like puppies. Truthfully, she's attached to her friends in the Literature Club and wants to spend as much time with them as possible, but she'll rarely admit it. She's mad that she's short, she's mad that no one shares her passion for manga, and she's mad that people think she's "cute." The thing is, this attitude is just a defense she's developed against being bullied and rejected for most of her life, (especially by her dad, who is implied to physically abuse her). She's a high school girl with the classic traits of a tsundere: consistently grumpy, typically rude and disapproving toward her friends, and unwilling to admit any of her faults. But when I do feel anything, it's only sad. "Natsuki, that's the cutest poem I've ever read. "You're joining the Literature Club!? Yaaaayyyy!!! I'm so excited!!" She does show that side of her sometimes, but she does her absolute best to hide it for the sake of not letting her friends worry about her. In truth, she has really bad depression that leads her into terrible self-esteem and a sadness that just won't leave no matter what she does. At least, that's how she appears on the outside. She's an enthusiastic, optimistic high school girl with a ton of energy and a love of making her friends smile. If you're interested in helping out, I'll really appreciate you giving the characters a try! I plan to release the mod on my website (which has yet to be made), and the release will be advertised primarily via Reddit. If you'd prefer to see the demo in let's play form, you can check out this video: r/DDLCMods/comments/89qa6t/monikas_prologue_demo_the_story_of_monika/ I have a non-voice-acted demo available here: It's told in Monika's perspective, detailing how she became self-aware, how she reacted to that, and how she had to cope with the sudden knowledge that none of the people in her life were anything more than computer code. I've included character information for the voice rolls, but I also recommend you familiarize yourself with the game a bit first, maybe through YouTube videos on it.įor the majority of you who do know DDLC, this mod is called Doki Doki Monika's Prologue, and it takes place before the events of the vanilla game. If you don't know what Doki Doki Literature Club is, it's a romantic visual novel about writing poems to impress girls at your literature club. Monika and Yuri already have voice actresses, so all that's needed now are Sayori and Natsuki. That's why I'm looking for voice actresses who'd like to bring the characters to life. Hi there! I'm working on a higher-quality Doki Doki Literature Club mod that I want to make as fun and exciting as possible.

[sluttyten]

Hello if it's Jaehyun day may I get falling in-love with brother in law Jaehyun, likee him and your older sister's marriage is bad then things happened, then you both cheat but happy ending if possible?

I actually don’t write cheating, so I cut that part out of your request, but I hope I made this work out for you!

You didn’t know your brother in law too well. Other than meeting him on a few occasions, attending the wedding, and then a few more times after the wedding, you barely knew him. You knew his name was Jaehyun, that he was devastatingly handsome, but you weren’t terribly close.

Not until their marriage drove itself onto the rocks, a shipwreck taking on water, and it was going down fast.

You’d known their relationship pre-marriage had been a whirlwind, so you weren’t too surprised when your sister called you in tears and told you that she was worried that her marriage was ending. They didn’t know enough about each other. There were major things in their lives that they hadn’t discussed before getting married. She didn’t want kids, Jaehyun did. She was a slob, he was neat and tidy. There were just a lot of differences that were difficult to get over.

“I think it was a mistake,” your sister cries to you over the phone. “I don’t know what to do!”

You’d never understood your sister’s hard stance against having children. You loved the idea of having a baby, raising them from nothing to a full grown human being, being there to see this little life become someone. And you’d only met your brother in law Jaehyun a few times, once was at a family gathering when he’d played with your little cousins and the babies, and you’d sat there watching him with the kids, a smile on your face because maybe, in the brief time that you knew Jaehyun, you developed feelings for him, particularly at that moment with the sight of him like a young dad.

You wanted to help your sister, but you didn’t really know how. You tried your best to comfort her, trying to say all the things she needed to hear. But it was clear to you then that your sister was quickly falling out of love with her new husband, that she needed to pull out of the marriage.

You’re even less surprised when you hear the news a few weeks later that your sister and Jaehyun have separated.

And it’s just a few days after you learn that, when you go out with some of your friends, that you spot Jaehyun. He’s sitting alone drinking, and when you excuse yourself from your friends to go join him, Jaehyun looks up at you in confusion for a moment before recognition lights up his eyes.

“Hey,” he smiles, “How are you?”

You take the seat across from him, accept the soju shot he pours you. “I feel like I should be asking you that, Jaehyun.”

He shrugs, throws back his own shot. “I’m fine. I think your sister and I were foolish to rush into it. Or, uh, I guess I was foolish since I’m the one that proposed.” He throws back another shot, and quickly chases it with one more.

You reach out and lay your hand over his. “Don’t you think you should slow down a little? My sister is not worth drinking yourself numb.”

Jaehyun makes a face. “You know we’re splitting up, right?” You nod, and he nods too. “I think we’re filing for divorce soon. I don’t see any point in us going to counseling or trying to work it out. We want different things, you know?”

You do know. “The kid thing?”

Jaehyun takes another shot. “That’s a big one. But there’s a lot more.”

You sit there with him, occasionally taking a shot while you listen to him talk, vent about the ruin of his relationship with your sister. You drink and talk and soon you’re feeling tipsy, buzzed, and the conversation turns happier and you’re laughing about things not related to your sister at all.

You like Jaehyun. You like the sound of his laugh and the way his nose scrunches. You like the flush in his cheeks right now and the mess of his hair as he takes his fingers back through it. You like him a lot.

And that realization makes you stop laughing, makes you stare at him, stare at the wedding ring still on his finger.

“I have to go,” you tell him, suddenly standing up.

Jaehyun reaches for your hand, holding on so you can’t go running back to the table where your friends have been entertaining a few guys this whole time. “Don’t go,” Jaehyun says, a soft somewhat dopey smile on his lips. “I like talking to you.”

“Jaehyun,” you drop back down into the seat. “You’re still married to my sister.”

“We’re just talking,” he says.

But he’s still holding your hand and your heart is pounding and you like him. You really, really like him. “For now.”

He sighs and lets go of your hand. “I like talking with you.”

You like talking with him too. Too much. “You should probably get home, Jaehyun. I think you’ve had enough to drink.”

“I’m staying at a friend’s place,” he mumbles, but he stands up. “Not at home. Your sister won’t let me come home.”

You help Jaehyun outside, call him a car to take him back to his friend’s place, and then you go back inside to hang out with your friends, to flirt with a guy that they introduce you to, and you let yourself have fun with this guy to forget about the ridiculous and unrealistic feelings you’re developing for your brother in law.

And several more weeks go by before you learn that the divorce has been finalized--a nice, neat divorce since they’d only been married a few months, no kids involved, and most of their finances and everything were still separate. 

“I’m single!” Your sister cheers as she comes over to your place immediately afterwards, but hours later, when the two of you have been out “celebrating” her divorce, your sister drunkenly repeats “I’m single,” it’s with a much sadder tone. Your sister has never liked being alone. She’s always had a boyfriend or a lover since the time that she was twelve years old, so this has got to be rough on her, but you just keep thinking of Jaehyun, wondering how he’s doing tonight, if he’s still at his friend’s place or if he’s out drinking again. 

You dump your drunken sister back at her place, make sure that she’s in bed, that she’s not going to throw up and choke on it. And then you start to head home, but you take a detour past that same place you’d met Jaehyun last time. It’s a small chance that he’ll be there again; just because you saw him there once doesn’t mean that’s where he’s going to be again, but as you pass by, as you peer through the front window of the place, you spot him once again sitting alone at a table drinking.

“Jaehyun.” You sit down across from him, and he looks up slowly. You reach out, laying your hand over his, his ring finger bare beneath your touch. “How are you doing?”

“I’m feeling like a fool, a little bit. I’m relieved, but I’m a fool.” He turns his hand over, squeezing your hand in his. “I fall in love too easily.”

You probably shouldn’t be here, comforting your ex-brother in law the night of his divorce from your sister. But you stay. You sit with him and drink with him and talk with him, and you feel only a tiny pit of guilt in your belly when you keep holding Jaehyun’s hand beneath the table, when you lean closer to him as you laugh together.

Maybe you’re both fools, you think, as you cling to each other while you leave. Maybe you’ve both had too much to drink because when Jaehyun kisses you, you let him, you pull him closer. If comforting him on the night of the divorce is wrong, then kissing him is definitely wrong. And heading down the block to a cheap hotel with him is definitely wrong, but you don’t let it stop you.

You get a room together, and the moment you’re inside, it’s all hands and lips, and you lie down on the bed together. Jaehyun’s on top of you, and when your hands work under his shirt, the moment your fingertips touch his skin, any guilt remaining in you vanishes. You just want him.

You don’t remember a lot of what happens after that. You don’t remember the details, just little flashes of Jaehyun’s bare hands on your body, his lips and teeth and his tongue, you remember kissing down his abs and sucking his cock, you remember getting fucked to the point of tears. You remember wiggling under the sheets afterwards, Jaehyun only getting halfway beneath the sheets with you before he passes out.

And the next morning, you wake up with a hotel room filled with sunlight, the sheets a twisted mess around your body and Jaehyun’s legs, his bare ass out in the light of the room. Your clothes are thrown all over the room. 

Your phone is ringing from the floor beside the door where it spilled out of your purse along with half of the rest of the contents. You drag yourself out of bed, pulling the fluffy duvet up from where it’d ended up on the floor, and you wrap it around yourself as you fetch your phone. And you see it’s your sister calling.

Jaehyun’s still completely out, facedown in the pillow, his arm stretched out over the spot where you’d been. 

You tap the answer button on your phone, press it to your ear. “Hello?”

Your sister just groans. “Why did you let me drink so much?” Her voice is loud in your ear, your own hangover pounding painfully. You pull the phone away from your ear and turn the volume down a little bit, and when you hold it back to your ear again, she’s saying, “--he’s feeling worse than I am today.”

“What?” You ask, clearing your throat and sinking down into the desk chair, holding the duvet tighter around your chest.

“I said I hope Jaehyun’s feeling worse than I am today,” she repeats. “Like, sure, whatever. It’s an amicable divorce, we both agreed that we don’t work, but damn, right now I just hope the worst for him. Does that make sense?”

You look over at the bed again as Jaehyun rolls over. A low buzz of guilt hums in your belly. 

“Don’t you want him to be happy?” You ask your sister. “Like, in the long run?”

The sound she makes basically tells you that she doesn’t want to be having this conversation right now. “Of course I do. I liked Jaehyun, we just have our differences. He deserves to be happy, just like I do. I hope he meets some girl that wants to have all his little cherub babies. I’m sure they’ll be absolutely adorable, and I’d love to see them someday, but I never wanted them to be mine.” 

Again Jaehyun moves in the bed. His arm sweeping over your empty side of the bed. 

“He’ll be happy,” she says softly in your ear. “Jaehyun falls in love easily. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was already moving on. I think that’s what I mean about I hope he feels worse today than I do. God, you really let me drink too much. My hungover is killing me. Can you bring me something? Or do you want to grab brunch?”

You’re about to open your mouth to answer her, when you hear the bedsheets really rustling, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Jaehyun sit up. And he says your name like a question.

You freeze. Your sister falls silent on the other end of the line. Jaehyun’s gaze lands on you, his eyes fixed on the phone held to your ear and the surprise O of your mouth. 

“Is that your sister?” He mouths the question. You nod. He slumps back down into the bed, draping his arm over his eyes. Unfortunately, when he does so, he leaves his entire body uncovered to the morning light, and you have fresh memories from the night before, fresh lust settling in your belly as you look at his body.

“Who was that?” Your sister asks, her voice cautious, curious.

You wonder if you can play it off, side-step her curiosity. But you’re sure she’s aware with the sound of her ex-husband’s morning voice.

“I’m also pretty hung over, unnie. Maybe we can meet up for a late lunch instead of brunch?” You look at the time. It’s half past ten in the morning. That’ll give you a few hours to come up with something to tell her. “I’ve got to go.”

You hear her start to say something as you pull the phone away to end the call, but you don’t wait to find out what it is.

You drop your phone down on the desk, and head back over to the bed. You climb in, letting go of the duvet as you do. 

“’m sorry,” Jaehyun mumbles. “If I’d known that you were still here, on the phone, especially with your sister, I wouldn’t have said anything. But I couldn’t feel you here, I thought you’d left.” 

“No,” you sink down again, lying down beside Jaehyun. “I wouldn’t just leave.”

Jaehyun lifts his arm to look over at you. “I thought you might’ve after what you were saying last night?” At your confused look, he explains, “I think you were talking in your sleep a little, saying something about feeling guilty about having sex with me.”

“I did feel guilty,” you admit. “But not anymore.”

“Because you really, really like me?” Jaehyun asks, his dimples appearing as he smiles. “You said that last night too.”

You remember saying that. “I do like you, Jaehyun. But when I was just talking to my sister, she was saying that she does want you to be happy, to find someone that makes you happy. And I know she wants me to be happy too, so I figure there’s no reason then that we can’t be happy together. I mean, if that’s something that you want, if you like me too.”

Jaehyun smiles wider. “I do.”

“Yeah, well I’ve heard you say ‘I do’ before,” you tease.

Jaehyun laughs then, caught off-guard by your sudden joke. He pushes up onto his arms and rolls over you, holding himself above you. “I do like you. I think I should actually take it slow this time, not rush in like I did with, uh, with your sister.”

But there are things you and Jaehyun have in common that were the irreconcilable differences for him and your sister. You don’t feel the need to tell him that now. Admitting to him that you would love to have his babies seems like a big bombshell to drop on him one day after his divorce from your sister and after you’ve had sex with him just once.

“We don’t have to rush into anything,” you sigh, shifting around beneath him. “We can take it all as slow as you want, Jaehyun.” 

He lowers down, and his lips brush yours. “I can do slow. But not too slow, you have plans later, right?” 

You don’t want to think about your sister right now. You just want to enjoy the feel of Jaehyun’s lips moving slow against yours, the way that he gets your legs to spread apart and he grinds in slow circles again you.

Maybe you’re a fool, you think, as you let Jaehyun do this to you again. You’re not so sure how slow this potential relationship is going to be, but he’s moving slow, taking his time with you this morning, slow touches and kisses and strokes as you pull him inside you, fall into each other again and again as the morning goes on.

[arizona2004]

Homewrecker. Part 2

If you read the 9k+ word version of part 2, you don’t need to read this. I just separated it into two parts. Let me know if something about this is weird, I separated it into 2 parts and it might’ve gotten messed up along the way

Cassian x Fem!reader

Word count: 4800

Warnings: Smut, slight blood kink, slight choking kink, the ending is kinda way too dramatic

Note: this might be in present and past tense. I’ll edit it eventually

Part1 Part 3

Later that night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The tears have stopped falling, but your chest still aches. You bathe to clean yourself of the mess between your legs and the scent of Cassian on your skin. You wish you could bathe in that scent; it grounds you and reminds you of home. It’s unrealistic, though. And even if you could, you couldn’t because everyone would know. 

So you stare at the ceiling, wishing sleep would pull you under, so you can forget about today. It doesn’t, though, not for a while, and you are left to your guilt. You wonder about Nesta: if Cassian will confess to her, if you should apologize, if she’ll be angry with you. She should. You don’t know her, but you know she exists, and still, you fell in love with her male. Her mate. You deserve whatever punishment she deems fit, you think to yourself. 

The next morning you wake, and Cassian has once again not shown up for you. You don’t go to look for him, though. You assume your lessons are over and roll over in bed, pulling the blankets up above your head. You’d stayed here since yesterday morning and intend to die here now. Your plans are thwarted, however, when a knock sounds at your door. It’s an hour past when Cassian usually comes, so you walk with caution to the door and crack it open. 

Standing before you: dark hair mussed, hazel eyes bright, and in Illyrian leathers, siphons glowing, is Azriel.

“Why aren't you dressed,” he asks, ignoring your puffy face and red eyes.

“I figured I wouldn’t be training today,” you say quietly, avoiding eye contact.

“I’ll be taking over your training.”

“That’s really not necessary-” you start, but Azriel interrupts.

“Cassian insisted.”

“It's not that. I just never planned on training or returning to that room ever again.” 

Your eyes are still glued to the floor between Azriel’s feet, so he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, “Don’t be a coward. You’re strong; I can see that. So you’re going to face this head-on. You’re going to continue training with me, and outside of that, you’re going to pretend like what happened yesterday didn’t. Until Cassian works everything else out, at least.”

“Works what out?” You try asking, but Azriel just shoves into your room and walks to your closet. What is it with these males and dressing people?

*

Training with Azriel is not what you expected. He is an incredibly patient and gentle teacher. It wasn’t until he adjusted your stance without squeezing your hips or told you something without whispering it into your ear that you realized training with Cassian had never been completely innocent. Even before yesterday.

When you finish training, you go to get water and feel Azriel’s eyes follow you all the way. You ignore his stare but can’t ignore him when he finally speaks. “If you have any questions, I might be able to answer.” Your eyes shoot up to look at him, casually standing across from you, drinking water.

“Questions about…” you prompt, assuming you misunderstood what he meant.

“Yesterday,” he says slowly as if talking to a child.

“Why would I have questions about yesterday? I know perfectly well what happened. If anyone should be confused, it’s you.”

He nods his understanding but doesn’t say anything else,  “Are you angry?” you ask.

“Would you care if I am angry? We’re not friends or anything.”

His words don’t sting, only because what he said is completely true: you and Azriel have never quite developed a friendship.“I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side,” you explain.

He huffs a short laugh at that, and it surprises you enough that you take a moment to settle the shocked expression on your face. “I think maybe I can see what he sees in you,” he says quietly, “And no, I’m not angry. I never really liked Nesta, and I love my brother. Even if I had liked Nesta…” his voice trails off and his jaw clenches.

“What?” you ask, and then lower your voice to a whisper, “did she do something?”

He smiles widely and looks back to you, “We’re not friends, remember. I can’t indulge you in my secrets.”

“That’s not fair; I’m very curious. I’m good at keeping secrets too,” you try to convince him as he walks toward the door. “I could be a spy, you know. I’ll become one just to figure out what you're hiding,” you tell him with a poke to his side.

He looks down at you fondly, “I think maybe we will become friends after all,” he says.

“Does that mean you can tell me your secrets?” 

His only response is a laugh as he walks down the hall and leaves you in the training room entrance. You look through the door and to the spot you’d been avoiding looking at all morning. Your mind quickly flashes back to yesterday, but you’re pulled from thoughts of Cassian as Feyre walks toward you.

“Just the person I was looking for,” she says, a smile curving her lips.

“What’s up?” you ask, avoiding eye contact as you walk to the kitchen together.

“I was thinking we could get lunch together later.” SHIT.

“Why?” You blurt out, thinking she must know.

She flinches at that, and you know you’ve hurt her feelings when she looks away from you, “We haven’t hung out in a while,” she says, “I thought we were-”

You don’t let her finish, “I’m sorry. For yelling. Of course I want to get lunch with you, I just thought…” you trail off, unable to tell her, you thought she figured out about her sister's mate giving you head. “You’re my best friend, Feyre. Sorry for shouting, I’m just a little…off.”

She immediately recovers and forgives you, “Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

You smile as her face scrunches in concentration as she tries to come up with a resolution to a problem she hasn’t even heard, “it’s nothing. I’ll be fine.” She isn’t convinced and continues silently investigating. “You know you always yell at Rhys for ‘mother henning,’ but you do it to everyone.”

“No, I don’t,” she tries to defend, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You do,” you say with a laugh.

“You’re trying to change the subject. You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know, Feyre. This particular thing is just something I have to work out for myself right now,” you try to explain.

“Okay,” she says, accepting defeat; and attempting to change the conversation, but without realizing it fails spectacularly when she asks, “How was training with Cassian today?”

“Azriel’s training me now,” you attempt casually as if it’s no big deal.

“What?” she practically yells as you enter the dining room for breakfast.

“Is something wrong?” Rhys asks. 

Of course, different everyone is gathered for breakfast today.

“Cassian isn’t training y/n anymore,” Feyre informs him.

“Why?” Rhys addresses Cassian.

“I’ve just gotten busy,” Cas replies.

“You’re never too busy for training,” Feyre says at the same time that Rhys says, “With what? You’ve never been less busy working for me?”

“I didn’t say it was work keeping me busy,” Cassian grumbles, obviously not interested in the conversation, and you sit as far from him as possible.

“Is it Nesta?” Feyre asks, concern covering her features, “is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” he reassures Feyre.

“Oh, she’s more than ‘fine,’” Azriel growls softly near you. Everyone turns to him, and Cassian glares.

“What does that mean,” Rhys asks for the group, but Azriel doesn’t respond right away. He and Cassian just glare at one another as if having a silent argument.

“Nothing,” Azriel eventually answers, looking away from Cassian. “It doesn't mean anything.

The rest of breakfast passes tensely, but Azriel and Cassian refuse to answer the questions everyone poses, so eventually, they give up. When you finish eating, you excuse yourself to your room and collapse into bed. You know you should be productive, there’s plenty of work to be done, but instead, you stare at the wall until you have to get ready for lunch. 

*

Lunch with Feyre is surprisingly normal. Without realizing it, you haven’t thought about Cassian since she came to get you. It’s so easy to fall back into your friendship that when she brings up what's been bothering you, you almost tell her.

You finished lunch over an hour ago, and now the two of you sat in the sitting room of the river house. When she sees you’re not going to answer, she pulls the conversation back, saying, “I’m pregnant.”

“What?” You ask stunned.

A laugh escapes her throat, “shhh. Rhys and I agreed not to tell anyone yet, but I wanted to cheer you up.”

You try saying something but don’t know where to begin. “I didn’t know you guys were trying.”

“We weren't really. We just didn’t start taking our contraceptives after Nyx was born. And it can take fae a while to conceive. I guess it only took Rhys 9 years.”

“I’m so happy for you, Feyre,” you say through the tears streaming down your face.”

“Why are you crying?” she asks, sensing the tears aren't happy ones.

“It’s nothing. I just realized that you just have a mate and a son and another baby on the way, and I’m all alone.” Wiping at the tears, you try to stop the crying but can’t, “I don’t know- I don’t know why I’m crying. I can’t stop.”

“Shh shh. It’s gonna be okay,” Feyre whispers into your hair as she pulls you close. “You’re young. There’s still plenty of time for you to do stuff. You should just live life and not commit to anything right now.”

“I’ve already had sex with like 6 different people; none of it was even that good. What more is there to living?” you say, sobbing into her shoulder.

“It’s gonna be okay. When the time is right, you’ll fall in love with the right person. I just got lucky because it all happened so young, but it’s not like that for most people. It’ll be okay, though. I promise, y/n, you’ll be okay.”

You cry on her shoulder for a little while longer and spend the rest of the afternoon just talking. You know she wants to ask about what’s been stressing you out, but she refrains, not wanting to upset you more.

*

Later that evening, after dinner, you’re in your room getting ready for bed when you notice a shadow stop on the other side of your door. Someone is standing in the hall, you realize. As quietly as possible, you approach the door and stand there looking at the darkness between your feet. Something inside you knows that it’s Cassian, but you can’t explain it. After a few minutes, Cassian leaves, and the space between your feet is flooded with the hallway light. 

The next morning you train with Azriel and walk with him to the dining room. The entire group isn’t gathered for breakfast today, so the three of you eat breakfast in awkward silence. When you leave, you feel a pair of eyes follow you but don’t look back to see if it is Azriel or Cassian. 

*

Later that day, you attend a meeting and refuse to look in Cassian's direction. You’re thinking about him, though. How any of this will ever be okay. How anything will be normal again.

“Y/n,” Rhys’ voice snaps you out of your thoughts. 

You look down the table at him, “sorry, what,” you ask, ignoring everyone’s eyes on you.

Rhys sighs in exasperation, and you think he might be a little angry with you, “the papers I gave you yesterday. Did you take care of them?” 

“Right, sorry. I’ll do that later,” you say, remembering the papers you threw on your desk without a glance.

Rhys sighs again and grumbles something, but before he can snap at you, Feyre puts a hand on his arm and moves the conversation forward.

You tune out the rest of the meeting even though you definitely shouldn’t have, and are still so lost in your head as everyone leaves you don’t hear Rhys or Feyre call your name until they’re standing right in front of you.

“Are you okay?” Feyre asks at the same moment that Rhys says, “I needed those papers.”

“Sorry,” you mumble, and Feyre slaps his chest. You know everyone is eavesdropping down the hall, but you don’t have the energy to care.

“You knew I needed them. And you’re always on top of your work,” Rhys continues, playing the disappointed parent. “I want an explanation.”

“Then think one up,” you snap. A split second later, your eyes widen as you realize what you said, but you're distracted by Azriel’s laugh behind you.

“Yes. I’ve made my decision, Y/N, we’re officially friends,” Azriel chuckles while Rhys stares dumbfounded and Feyre looks at you, concerned.

“I’m so sorry,” you start, but Azriel cuts you off.

“No, she’s not. So what she falls behind one time. How many times have any of us done something late? It’s not like we’re in a war or anything, so one mistake isn’t that big of a deal.” This is the most you’ve heard Azriel talk, and it’s because he’s defending you. You look up at him, but he’s still looking at Rhys. “Give her a break Rhys,” he finishes and spins you around to walk you back to your room.

When you get back to your room, Azriel says something about talking to Feyre, reassuring her you’re fine. And he recommends you do your work, but instead, you lay down in bed and stare at the ceiling. 

When the door opens, you expect it to be Feyre, she’s the only one that comes in without knocking, but then the lock clicks, and Cassian is crawling up your bed. This must be a dream, you think.

“What are you doing here?” you ask but don’t protest as he kisses your neck and presses his body to yours, wrapping his arms around you.

“You looked like you needed comforting,” he whispers, breathing in your scent.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I want to be,” he replies, kissing your jaw and gripping your hip.

You don’t protest when his lips find yours and his tongue slips into your mouth. You wrap your body around him and pull him closer.

“This isn’t what I intended,” he growls, nipping at your collarbone and leaving bruises on your neck.

“What did you intend?”

“Cuddles,” he replies, mouth finding yours again.

“Later,” you whisper, your breath mingling with his. He presses his mouth roughly to your own and tugs your lower lips. You taste blood but don’t care as he releases his tongue into your mouth. You don’t think you’ve ever been kissed like this. Like you’re the only thing in the world, and nothing matters more than your lips and his. 

You whimper into Cassian's mouth, wanting more, needing more. But that seems to make him pull away. One second he’s kissing you like he couldn’t care if the world was burning, and the next, he’s standing at the door, unlocking it and slipping into the hall without another word. You spend the rest of the day crying into your pillow. You don’t attend dinner, and you don’t even think about Rhys’s papers. You sleep the day and night away and pray all of this was a dream.

However, when you look in the mirror the next morning, the evidence on your neck and chest says otherwise. You resist the urge to cry but stay in bed all morning rather than train and eat breakfast. After a few minutes of pestering, Azriel leaves, unwilling to drag you to the training room, and you curl up and fall back to sleep.

*

You leave the papers on Rhys’ desk the next day and complete the rest of the work you’d let pile up. You don’t go to any meals, though, or go to training. Hours later, a knock sounds at your door, and when you grumble something unintelligible, Azriel peaks his head in.

You stare at him from the mountain of blankets you hide beneath until he asks, “are you going to be joining me for training in the morning?”

“I don’t know,” you reply.

And suddenly, he looks uncomfortable and almost nervous as he asks, “Are you… okay?”

You laugh, his concern being so unexpected, and sit up. The blanket falls to your waist, and you return his question with one of your own, “Does speaking of a female’s emotions frighten you, Azriel?”

He doesn’t respond, though, his eyes glued to your neck, “Cassian?” he questions, knowing the answer already. Suddenly you feel self-conscious under his studious eyes and pull the blanket up to your chin. Azriel’s eyes move back up to yours, and he sighs under his breath before saying, “training tomorrow morning. And I’ll bring you a turtleneck.” You smile slightly at the thought and fall back into bed.

*

Days pass, and you barely see Cassian at all. Your friendship with Azriel grows, and you find yourself talking to him, and more often than not, just sitting in comfortable silence with him. When you do talk, though, it’s about anything but Cassian. You discuss training and work, and occasionally Rhys when you complain about him being a bossy know-it-all with a stick up his ass.

You’re walking to your bedroom with Az as he complains about some stupid Illyrian camp leader when Mor suddenly steps into your path, halting the pair of you. Get dressed: we’re going to Ritas. Azriel grumbles beside you, and you start to protest, but he says, “It’s better not to argue. You’ll end up giving in anyway.”

You nod, having known you probably would’ve given in anyways, and head for your bedroom, leaving Az to turn back to his own.

“I’ll fly you down; meet me in the dining room when you’re changed.” You throw a thumbs up over your shoulder and continue to your suite to change into the short red dress Mor had just made you buy when you went out with her. 

You decide not to wear tight underneath it and slip into short heels. The dress cuts low and falls to just above your knee, but there’s a slit on one side that runs up to your hip. You let your hair fall loose around your shoulders and only apply a little bit of makeup, not having the time or energy to do more than the casual basics.

*

When you meet Az on the balcony just outside the dining room, he’s dressed in a nice dress shirt and pants. He grabs your waist when you're close enough and shoots into the sky. The journey is quiet and peaceful, and you find yourself wishing, for a second, that you were in love with Azriel instead. It would be easier to love him, you think. And if you could, you would. But, to your dismay, Cassian is the one your heart desires.

You land a few blocks away from the house and join the others while they walk to Rita’s. Mor is cheerfully speaking to Cassian about something, and as Feyre comes to walk by you, Azriel joins Rhys to the side.

“No Elaine or Amren?” you ask when she doesn’t say anything.

“Elaine offered to stay in with Nyx and Amren’s in the Summer Court tonight,” she says the last part with a smirk. You’ve only met Varian a couple of times, but his relationship with the strange female was infamous and mysterious. 

After a few more minutes of walking, when we’re only a block away from Rita’s, Feyre slows down and holds you back so that you are several feet away from everyone else. 

“So…” she starts.

“So…?”

“You and Az…” You give her a confused look, so she adds, “what’s going on there? You two have gotten close.”

“Yeah. I guess we’re becoming friends,” you reply. And she gives you a suggestive look. “Just Friends. Promise.”

“Are you sure? The two of you could be cute together.”

“I just… feyre… I’ve thought about it. Okay. But there’s just nothing there. No fireworks. He’s great, I know, but we’ll never be more than friends,” you try to explain.

“Okay,” she says, finally understanding and letting up.

A second later, Rhys calls us, holding the door open, waiting. You walk quickly, not wanting to keep him waiting, and when your closer, he asks, “what were the two of you gossiping about?” He’s almost as bad as Feyre sometimes. 

Thankfully, however, Feyre says, “Nothing,” and shoves past him. 

Rhys not too gently slaps her ass as she passes and smirks at the back of her head as she flips him off over her shoulder.

“Gonna stand there all night,” he asks when you still haven’t moved toward the door. You stand still for only a second longer before walking past him. He’s at your side as you walk to the table in the back, and before you get there, he whispers to you, “I’m sorry for pushing you so hard,” which throws you off. He hardly has anything to apologize for. “If you need a vacation or anything, it’s yours.” 

You smile up to him in thanks as you arrive at the table, and you scoot in next to Azriel. Cassian’s sitting on Az’s other side, but you avoid looking in his direction and instead take a sip of the drink someone ordered for you.

You stay seated most of the night, talking to Azriel and avoiding Cassian’s glances. Mor and Feyre try to pull you onto the dance floor. Far into the late hours of the night, Feyre and Rhysand have vanished back home, and Azriel is somewhere lost in the crowd with Mor, who managed to drag him out of the booth. You laughed at the nervous expression on his face and waved at his fading form. He no longer pined after the female, and they were good friends, but Azriel hated dancing.

It was a few minutes before Cassian spoke. You jump in your seat, having forgotten he was there. You realized then that the two of you were once again the only ones in the booth. Before he could finish whatever he had started to say, you jump up and walk around the crowd toward the hall in the back of the club.

Just after you pass the swinging kitchen doors: Cassian grabs your left arm at the elbow and spins you into him. You collide roughly with his hard form and quickly push yourself away. 

“Please don’t be mad at me,” he says, reaching his arms out as if to calm a wild animal. You try to find the bathroom but with the combination of alcohol and having been spun around: you’re disoriented. You stand still, trying to calm your spinning mind, and Cassian draws closer, pulling you to the side of the hall, out of others’ way. “Can I please just explain? I’m so sorry, y/n.”

“There’s nothing to explain. Last week never should have happened. And before that: in the training room. It was a mistake, I know. It’s fine, but we can’t do it again.”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” he says it so quietly you almost don’t hear. You inhale sharply at the meaning of his words. Cassian comes closer, pushing you back toward the wall, and repeats the words as his lips press gentle kisses to your neck.

As his lips grow rougher and travel further down your neck and onto your shoulder, you put your hands into his hair and moan lightly. He rushes to capture the sound with his mouth and kisses you roughly enough to knock your head against the wall. His tongue quickly dominates yours, and he only pulls back to bit your bottom lip roughly. You taste blood for a second, but then Cassian is sucking your lip and the blood into his mouth. 

When he pulls away from your lips, it is only to leave open mouth kisses on your neck. You know there will be bruises, and that painfully reminds you of last time. “Cassian, stop,” you say, pushing slightly at his chest. He pulls back so that he’s no longer kissing your neck and holds his face nose to nose with yours. 

“What’s wrong?”

“We can’t do this,” you answer, turning your head to the side, so you don’t have to look him in the eyes.

“I told you: it wasn’t a mistake.”

“It had to be. You can’t do this. Your betraying Nesta and your vows to her. You can’t do this.”

“That’s it?” he asks, “those are your reasons?” He waits for you to look at him and nod your head before continuing. He pushes closer and kisses your jaw.

“Cassian,” you warn. How is he not getting your point?

“I listened to your reason as to why I shouldn’t do this,” he murmurs, “but unless you give me a reason you shouldn’t and you don’t want to, then I won’t stop. Tell me no, y/n, and I’ll go. I won’t force myself on you, but I want this, consequences and all.” You close your eyes, knowing this is wrong, but Cassian just lowers himself to his knees, “tell me no, and I stop.”

You know you should respond, you should say no, but you don’t want to. So you watch as he lifts your skirt, and you watch as he ducks beneath. Your heart races at the thought of getting caught. You’re at the end of the dark hall, and no one’s around, but what if someone came looking. All those thoughts vanish, however, when Cassians callused fingers reach the hem of your panties. And now that there’s nothing to watch, you close your eyes and focus on the feeling. The feeling of him pulling your panties down and the feeling of him kissing the inside of your thigh, the feeling of him grabbing your leg and lifting it to rest on his shoulder. The feeling of him licking your wet pussy.

Your dripping for him, but he laps up every drop of you up. His mouth pulls away for a second, only for a single finger to swipe through your folds and ghost over your clit. You buck your hips toward him, but his finger’s already gone. Until a moment later, it’s poling at your drenched hole. He pushes in slowly, and his mouth goes up to your clit. His tongue darts out and begins applying brutal attention to your clit. When your hips buck again, Cassian tightly grips the thigh thrown over his shoulder and presses your hips into the wall as he pushes his face closer. Your moaning above him, shaking all over and clenching around his fingers after only a few minutes. He sucks your clit roughly, pulling a squirting orgasm from you, and pulls his finger out and his mouth down to drown in your juices. 

A moment later, he rises: face covered in your liquids, and his tongue darting out to lick up what he can. He pulls his shirt up to wipe the rest away, and a second later: his body is back on you. His lips press a quick kiss to your own before going to bite at your neck. You moan into the feeling as one of his hands snake around to grip your ass, and the other pulls at your breasts hidden beneath the red fabric. 

Being so close, you feel Cassians cock press against your belly. He pulls back for a second and starts working on the buttons holding his pants closed when suddenly your mind clears and you take in the scene. Anxiety floods through you: What if someone saw or heard?

Having finished with the buttons, Cassian returns to you and reaches for the hem of your dress, but you stop him.

“No. I can’t let you do this.”

“You don’t want me to?” He asks, taking a single step back.

“Whether I want you or not doesn’t matter.”

“That’s all that matters.”

“No. How can you do this? You have a wife. A mate. You can’t want to be with me.”

“But I do.”

“You can’t. You’re hurting me. And she deserves better than a mate that claims to want another female.”

“You don’t understand everything about the situation, though.”

“Then explain it to me. Tell me.”

He turns his head away then, feeling ashamed. You give him a moment to speak, but when he doesn’t say anything, you adjust your dress and walk down the hall head down.

@lovelyladymayyy honestly this has been posted for several days. You might have already read it , but I forgot you asked to be tagged until 5 seconds ago, so sorry

[pastxlscorp]

Bully! Mitsuya Fanfic (pt.3)

Chapter III: Abidance

✿ Word Count: 3.2k

✿ Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

✿ Topics covered: (Eventual) Enemies to lovers trope, Hakkai POV, Y/N POV, Mitsuya POV, tsundere-Mitsuya, bully! Mitsuya, fem. reader, minor manga spoilers, slight angst

Awakening from his slumber, he found that the woman was no longer taking up space in his bed. He heaved a sigh of relief, only to, unfortunately, see a message from an unknown number on his phone saying “Text me when you’re free ;)” Ignoring the text, he found he had a message from Hakkai and remembered that he had abandoned him to sleep with that damn woman. However, Hakkai didn’t confront him about it, but instead acted as if nothing happened.

🗨️ Hakkai: Is the party still on for today? (Sent 2:00am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Yeah, sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t feeling my best, I should have let you know. (Sent 10:00am)

🗨️ Hakkai: No hard feelings. Ya feeling better now Taka-chan? (Sent 10:01am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Not really, but it’ll pass. What’d you end up doing yesterday after I left? (Sent 10:02am)

Picking up on the subtle curiosity of Mitsuya’s text, it became clear to Hakkai that he did see him with you. As much as he admired Mitsuya, the anger building inside of him got the best of him. Therefore, in response, he chose a reply that he knew would get Mitsuya boiling.

🗨️ Hakkai: Caught Y/N outside of your class, had a wonderful lunch with her! She’s so nice, Taka-chan! Why are ya so mean to her? (Sent 10:04am)

Vigorous fingers typed in reply.

🗨️ Mitsuya: Why the fuck were you hanging around that slut? She’s just gonna try and get in your pants. What did she say to you? (Sent 10:04am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Hakkai? Hello? (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Sorry Taka-chan, I’m back. She didn’t say nuthin bad, actually she was so sweet. She saw I was alone and we both had some tea together back at her place. Ended up sleeping over, I’m still here actually! (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: BACK AT HER PLACE? I told you, she’s just trying to get in your pants and you let her win! I can’t believe you let a whore like her win you over, Hakkai! Where the fuck is your brain? She probably was enjoying every minute of your sorry ass. (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Who said we slept together, Taka? (Sent 10:05am)

Silence enveloped the room.

🗨️ Mitsuya: Sorry… I just assumed that’s what you meant by sleeping over. (Sent 10:07am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Awh, it’s okie Taka, I know you were only looking out for me. (Sent 10:07am)

Absolutely, looking out for Hakkai. That’s what this was, that’s what he was doing. There couldn’t have been any other reason why he was so upset at the thought of you sleeping together. He was just being a good friend.

-----

┃ “Y/N!” the hoarse voice spoke to you, feeling the smooth cloth of his jacket pressed against your face as you bumped into him.

You looked up only to recognize Hakkai, kind thoughts flooding your mind, diminishing your anger stemming from your interaction with Mitsuya moments before. He grinned at you giddily, eyes relaxing any sort of tension left in your body. You slowly began to forget why you were mad and allowed yourself to indulge in his presence.

┃ “Good afternoon Hakkai! Waiting for Mitsuya?”

┃ “Mhm, you takin’ Designer 101 too, right?”

┃ “Yup! How come you aren’t taking it? You’re very fashionable, y’know?”

┃ “You’re too kind,” He giggled, his grin beginning to somehow grow wider on his cheeks as he raised his hand to pat your head.

┃ “I’m serious! Why don’t you join the class? It’s not too late, the second semester is about to start!” You eagerly pushed on, rejoicing in the positive energy he emitted.

┃ “ ‘m not really into making clothes, just showing them off...” He let out a hefty chuckle before getting cut off by you.

┃ “You don’t have to be good at making them! Some students choose to learn how to stylize different clothing and patterns, it’s all about the latest trends.”

┃ “Really?” He went silent for a few moments, smile morphing into a straight line as he contemplated your words carefully. Not to fret, as his smile quickly returned as he said: “Well then, might have to ask Taka-chan to help me sign up!”

You both shared a laugh and began to discuss the enrollment process in order for Hakkai to join the class-- if he were to drop another class, what class would he drop, or would he simply add it to his current schedule? While your conversation was nothing more than an innocent developing friendship, unbeknownst to you, Mitsuya had witnessed it all and declared it once more another betrayal. You were such a slut, flirting with anyone and everyone. Irrationality began to consume him-- instead of seeing your interaction with Hakkai for what it truly was, a genuine developing friendship, his brain refused to comprehend your behavior with other men. He never got to the level of comfortability you had with Takemichi, and he had lost the sense of ease you had with him to Hakkai and god, god did it piss him off. Unfortunately for that kohai, she was just another doll for him to play with just until he could get your attention again. Even a single drop of your attention, your attachment, it was enough to drive him for weeks just to be able to be near you again. Your kind words squeezing his heart tighter and tighter the more you spoke, your laughter ringing in his ears at a corny joke he told you during club meetings, it enveloped him into infatuation which later developed into a larger feeling. Such a large feeling over the progressing months that when he began bullying you, when your lack of presence and absences during meetings began to grow, an emptiness began to root in his heart, waiting for you to touch it once more and let it grow.

He could go on and on listing things about you-- the way he loved your sense of fashion, the way he loved your sense of humor, your compassion to helping others, your intellect that allowed you to read everyone like a book, everyone except him. Why couldn’t you see that he didn’t hate you? Oh, but that jealousy, the first time he’d admit that it was jealousy, it gripped him so tightly around his neck that it felt suffocating. Every shove, every clasp of your hand, your wrist, your chain, your chain, it made his heart shutter seeing that dead watery look in your eye, but your attention was like a drug that he just had to keep getting more of. It would never be enough to satisfy him, not until he could call you his and you would call him yours. He pitied using them, he really did, but he needed someone to satiate his needs. He was a womanizer, after all-- if one left he would just charm another into his bed. They all had high respect for Mitsuya, his intellect, his charm, his skill, and his kindness. Yet no matter how hard he tried, all those women, they were never you and they could never try and be you. He found that he no longer sought sex for his own pleasure anymore, but for your own, pretending so desperately that the one trembling out of pleasure beneath him was you. Imagining, no, fantasizing that he was making you happy and leaving you satisfied.

Upon seeing your interaction, he quickly left with his kohai for their own exchange, leaving Hakkai unfortunately confused as he waved you goodbye, patiently waiting for his friend to meet him. You were still on campus because you had taken additional extracurricular activities to build up your transcript to make up for your absences in Mitsuya’s Home-economics club. At first, you attempted to make it through the club meetings but he made every single one as unbearable as possible. The second semester, could it come any sooner? Hakkai, too focused on organizing his schedule with you previously, had failed to notice Mitsuya leaving with a woman. He waited, he waited, and he waited, coming to a good hour until he realized Mitsuya wouldn’t have left him waiting for this long without a heads up. He looked at his phone, expecting some sort of contact-- a phone call, a message, anything. All that awaited him was several unread messages from group chats and friends, none of them from Taka-chan. He sighed, placing his phone away just as he noticed your presence once more, planting a fake smile on his face to disguise his obvious disappointment. Unfortunately for him, his smile only instantly alerted you something was wrong.

┃ “Hakkai? Why are you still here, weren’t you supposed to be meeting Mitsuya?”

┃ His phony smile stood in place as tears began to fill his eyes. He croaked: “T-taka-chan left me. Do you think he’s mad at me for sumthin’, Y/N? I don’t ‘member doin’ anything.”

You instantly rushed over to comfort him, witnessing what appeared to be an intimidating giant become undone into a fragile teddy bear at the thought he had upset his best friend. Your disdain only kept growing for Mitsuya, first it was his lack of maturity during class, and now he had abandoned his best friend for whatever reason it was. Hakkai was a sweetheart, you couldn’t imagine what he may have done to upset someone. Therefore, you came to the conclusion Mitsuya had thrown a tantrum of sorts and took it out on him. It irked you, however, Mitsuya always remained respectful and loving to his best friend in addition to Yasuda-san, so you couldn’t help but raise your brow wondering what got him so upset for him to entirely ditch his friend. Pushing those thoughts aside, you placed all of your focus on bringing a smile back to Hakkai’s face, gently rubbing his back and placing your forehead against his temple as he crouched over in defeat. You desperately attempted to think of anything to cheer him up.

┃ “Ah, how about some tea?”

┃ “...Tea?”

┃ “Listen, I have absolutely no idea what you like and I want to calm you down so-”

┃ “Tea sounds good.” He said softly, a small smile returning to his face.

You escorted Hakkai comfortably back to your dorm, located on the east wing of the campus. Women and men could go to each other’s dorms, they just had gender-separated wings because it was just easier to contain the chaos if everyone was allowed to sleep with their girlfriend or boyfriend. The boys had their dormitory on the west side, thus you noticeably got some glances as you strolled with Hakkai. Mitsuya was always surrounded by Hakkai and Yasuda-san, so obviously most of your classmates were shocked to see you hanging out with his right-hand man. Were you both sleeping together? Ooh what a scandal (not). Although you didn’t mind the glanes too much, Hakkai on the other hand made sure to shoot down them all with a nasty side glare, quickly causing them to turn their cheek. It was a cute sight after all, seeing how you subconsciously had reached for his hand and began to rub gentle circles on it in order to ease him, which succeeded in doing so. Once you arrived at your dorm, you opened the door and gave him a show of jazz hands as you toured him around your dorm. Your dorm wasn’t the largest compared to his and Mitsuya’s dorm, which made him realize the privilege of not having a financially aided dorm. Your queen bed comfortably rested on the right side of the room, covered with a curtain and fairy lights on the wall behind it. Your desk was not too far away, maybe a good 15 feet across your bed, not too messy but not too neat. It was obvious you were working on something, as there were papers still out and scattered but the rest of the desk had the pens, pencils, and stapled papers sorted in a clean pile. Your pinboard was half-covered with your calendar, cluttered with small sticker reminders while the other half was your schedule, nicely decorated with washi tape sticking it to the board. Next to your bed was a wooden closet and you led him into the cramped kitchen that made him gasp, seeing how you make such a tight space so comfortable and presentable. You had a small glass coffee table in the middle, a small fridge cramped in the kitchen underneath a cupboard and next to a cabinet holding the sink on top. Next to that was a stove with a microwave on top, both color-coordinated black, contrasting the white of the room. You guided him over to the table and motioned for him to sit and he obediently did. Walking over to the countertop holding an old-school kettle, you used it to strain and brew the tea. Gleefully, you dropped a few ice cubes in his glass and carefully poured his tea and then your own, sitting across from him at the table. He took a sip of the tea you had placed in front of him, smiling not at the delightful taste but the awaiting face you had fixated, putting your hands under your chin waiting for a response.

┃ “This tea is delightful, thank you Y/N.” He said warmly and you basked in his praise.

┃ “Ah, sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the staring. I don’t… really get visitors. It’s nice to have someone over.” You replied, your face beginning to glow a light pink as your lips formed into a slight frown, embarrassed to admit how you had no friends.

┃ “Mm, I should be the one thankin’ you,” The softness in his voice made your crouched posture fix itself as you looked up to him. “You made me sum tea, opened me to your home, all ‘cuz I was sad and overthinkin’. You ain’t hafta do that, but you did anyway. I appreciate ya!” His iconic grin was now back where it belonged as his eyes glazed over you in pure adoration. You smiled in return, both returning to take a sip of your tea.

Hours passed and he was still at your house, you both gossiping and talking like old friends. You discussed your classmates, praising them and disapproving of the behavior of others. He began to confide in you about what he witnessed during his time as the second-division’s vice captain. You eagerly listened to him as he described to you his tales with his brother and his amazing sister Yuzuha, anything and everything was up for debate. At least, almost everything. Despite being the main reason he was so upset, you and Hakkai had not discussed Mitsuya’s treatment of you. He was mentioned in a few gang stories, but it seemed as if Hakkai was opting out of speaking about him out of respect for you. However, his head began to slump, implying he was tired. You grabbed your phone, which had been placed upside down on the coffee table, and looked at the time and saw it was well past midnight. You leaned over to rub Hakkai’s shoulder and you gasped when his head turned back upright, alert as if he just remembered something. Drunk on drowsiness, he began to speak:

┃ “Mmh, y’know Mitsuya used to talk about you a lot. Always went on about this pretty girl who was awfully sweet, really smart…” He trailed off, fighting off the sleep that clung desperately to his eyelids. “He never gave me a name but after club meetings when I woulds wait for him, he would tell me about his conversations. I always saw him looking at ya. What did ya do to make him so pissed off?” Although he had no malicious-intent in his questioning, it was enough to cause goosebumps all over your body.

┃ “I didn’t do anything, ‘kai. Really, nothing different happened that day. All of the sudden, the next day during his club he humiliated me in front of everyone and then made me stay after hours to yell at me even more.” You went silent for a moment, before your curiosity got the best of you and you questioned: “He used to talk about me? Are you sure?”

┃ Ignoring your question, he replied to your initial response. “You didn’t do anythin’ different at all that day?”

┃ You contemplated his question carefully, before realizing the one event that was an outlier to the rest. “I was waiting for my friend outside campus gates that day. He offered to wait with me but I insisted he didn’t, mainly because my friend had said Mitsuya wasn’t very fond of him so it was better if he didn’t see him.”

┃ “Who’s the friend?”

┃ “Hanagaki Takemichi.”

┃ The tired man in front of you took a full minute to process your sentence before bursting out and crying of laughter a few moments later. You looked at him, pure confusion coating your body as he continued to sob. Finally, after a few minutes, he wiped his eyes and sat back up, gleaming at you. “Well that’s your problem, Mitsuya fucking hates Takemichy. Probably spied on ya because he was worried, saw Takemichy, and boom-- he got jealous AHAHA!” He went back to crying of laughter, leaving you a few moments to yourself to process his words.

It was embarrassing to admit how Hakkai was half-asleep in front of you and somehow managed to put together your puzzle of confusion together months after said incident had happened, in under 20 minutes. However, you couldn’t find yourself disagreeing with his theory. Suddenly, Hakkai stopped laughing and looked up at you, all serious.

┃ “Now wait… that’s not funny! He’s been pushing ya around all the time just cuz he’s jealous of you being with other guys?! That’s fucked up! ‘M gonna beat his ass, Y/N! Just for you!”

You now began laughing, taking Hakkai’s hand in yours over the glass countertop and tapping it gently.

┃ “That won’t be necessary, ‘kai. How about we come up with a solution?”

┃ “My solution is beating his a-”

┃ “A non-physical solution.”

┃ He went silent for a few moments, looking away from you to the window to think. You could tell he thought of something when a smirk began to plaster itself on his face. “How about we test our theory?”

┃ “Elaborate.”

┃ “If that pain in my ass is done with whatever it is he’s doing, there was supposta be a party tomorrow. Not at our dorm, but our friend’s. You might have heard of him, Manjiro Sano?”

You responded with silence.

┃ “Mikey. The Invincible Mikey.”

┃ “Not ringing any bells.”

┃ “Brother of Emma Sano. Brother of Izana.”

┃ “Emma Sano is so nice!”

┃ “Captain of the Tokyo Manji Gang, Y/N.”

┃ “Oh.”

┃ “Point is, he’s having a party tomorrow. We could get some revenge, I bring you as my date~”

┃ “Won’t that make him angri-

┃ “That’s what revenge is.”

┃ “Why don’t I just talk with him?”

┃ “Has he tried talking to you?”

┃ “...no.”

┃ “I rest my case.”

Silence enveloped the room once more. It wasn’t an awkward silence, no, it was quite a comfortable silence actually as he patiently awaited your response and allowed you to process and think.

┃ “When is the party exactly?”

✿ tags: @haiq-trash @blackmysticalsimp @the2ndl @bren-heron @delicatejudgecopcowboy @skiwalkers

✿ a.n. // First of all, thank you so much for 102 followers <3 I appreciate the support being given to me! I would like to address one thing, however, please don't rush me to write! I've gotten very kind messages of support but others have been demanding more of me and it's important to remember that I have classes, chores, a social life, and many other things happening. I love writing but rushing me makes it unenjoyable and it won't be my best work. My goal for this ongoing fanfic is to post weekly. Just a little ted-talk there, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter though! I had such a fun time writing it :)

[favoniuscodex]

inheritance . act one [diluc x reader]

inheritance act one of five: denial arranged marriage royalty au prince!diluc x f!knight!reader

fic summary: you're the heir apparent's key to obtaining the throne you've sworn to protect since you were a child. but in barbatos' domain, where freedom reigns, you must first answer a question: is freedom found in the ability to spread your wings and take flight on mondstadt's winds or is freedom found in the ability to choose to remain flightless?

word count: 19.6k

warnings: alcohol, minor descriptions of wounds and violence, bleeding, pining, oblivious characters, no explicit nsfw, enemies(?) to lovers

fic masterlist

a/n: i’m happy it’s finally done! i’m so excited to share this with you all! i hope you like it. please post here to be on the taglist! characters may be ooc at first but they’ll grow into their rightful personalities, dw! <3

You first met Diluc when you were eight, the boy being two years older than you. It was an accidental meeting. Commoners like you weren’t supposed to be in the palace, but your father was one of the palace’s Royal Knights, assigned to protect the king and his royal family, even at the cost of his life. You were far too young to grasp the political implications of what “serving the throne” actually meant, just believing that it meant you got to run around in cool armor while slaying dragons.

At least, that’s what the colorful storybooks that littered the floor of your childhood room had told you.

The boy had seemed nervous. Much like you at that age, he was a true introvert at heart. His princely duties extended past such nerves as he was forced to cast human consternation and worries aside and extend his hand to you.

“I am Prince Diluc of Mond,” He proudly stated, mustering as much righteousness into his words that a ten-year-old was capable of doing.

You were too young to notice it yet, but such an act was false bravado on the prince’s behalf.

You shook his hand limply, unfamiliar with such formal gestures. A nudge from your father enforced the power dynamic that would persist between you and the prince for years to come, as your father reminded you to bow in respect. After bowing, you stayed quiet for a few more moments before being nudged gently by your father again. A confused look passed over your face before you remembered what you needed to do.

“Oh, I’m (Y/N)!” you giggled. “It’s nice to meet you!”

Diluc stared at you for a moment before a grin broke out onto his face. “My father wanted me to ask if you wanted to come play with my brother and I?”

You looked at Diluc before glancing up at your father for permission, who simply smiled and nodded his goodwill in return. In response, Diluc latched his hand around your wrist and the two of you ran down the hallway to go play pirates.

---

When you were fourteen, Diluc appeared in your life once more.

It’s amusing as to how quickly a mere second encounter can shatter fond memories developed prior.

“This is Knight (Y/L/N),” a fellow knight had introduced you to the prince. “Her duties will consist of protecting the royal family, with a focus on you, my prince.”

The redhead had simply scoffed, looking you up and down with distaste. If he remembered your brief childhood rendezvous, he failed to show it. His eyes glinted with annoyance and his lips curled slightly downwards, yet you bowed in respect, for you had sworn an oath of fealty to the kingdom. Whether the people you watched over agreed or disagreed with your methods mattered not to you, for you had been assigned to this position by the king himself. Anyone who ranked below him could not waver such undying loyalty, even if they were his son.

“She’s my bodyguard?” Diluc’s tone was one of disdain as he folded his arms. “She’s a child. I’d be better off protecting myself, especially since she doesn’t have a vision. I don’t want her.”

Your stoic expression matches Diluc’s slight frown, unshaken by his words. However, you couldn’t say the same for the knight that had re-introduced the two of you. Despite being much older and of higher rank than you, the poor man was shaking in his boots from being reprimanded by the king’s tempestuous son.

“My prince, with all due respect, she is the most promising knight out of the academy in many years. She’s an excellent fighter and chivalrous at heart. I can assure the king has picked only the best knight for you,” your fellow knight insisted as you remained steady.

“My father picked her?” Diluc’s voice softens almost imperceptibly, not having expected such information. “Very well then. Even if I do not believe she is of assistance, I have no capability to argue with one of my father’s orders.”

A wave of relief washes over your superior’s face upon Diluc’s concession. “Thank you, my liege,” He says, genuflecting in the prince’s direction before standing tall and saluting. Diluc’s crimson gaze turns to yours and presses his lips together in a slight frown.

“Well?” The prince snaps, seemingly expecting something of you as he folds his arms. Your stoic expression shatters as you raise an eyebrow. “Do you not have something to say to me as well?”

Oh. You finally understand. He’s not just having a bad day. He’s just an asshat.

“With all due respect, my prince,” You respond, finally breaking your silence. “I am not aware of any words of yours that deserve my gratitude. All three of us are merely following orders.”

You feign innocence at your contemptuous words, biting back a smirk as the haughty redhead glowers at you. The knight next to you looks as if he wants to run away. Sensing his discomfort, Diluc wordlessly waves him off and your eyes flicker away from Diluc’s vermillion gaze to watch the knight salute before marching off, leaving you and your new assignment alone together. Diluc looks you up and down once more, his eyes ablaze with ire at your mere presence.

“What is your name?” Diluc queries. His harsh tone contracts with the societal politeness embedded into his question. “Royal Knight (Y/L/N), sir.” You respond with a quick salute. Diluc stares at you with a mixture of confusion and disgust.

“That is not what I meant. What is your first name?” He clarifies, his vocal inflection making it clear that such a notion should have been obvious to you from the beginning. “You are not a dog, I do not wish to refer to you in such a manner.”

Your lips remain neutral, but you can’t help the confused look that shows in your eyes. It was far too late for him to say such things. He had already treated both you and your superior with disrespect. Nonetheless, as he is a higher rank than you, you answered him. “(Y/N), sir.”

“Well, (Y/N), it appears that we are stuck together. It would be in your best interest not to slow me down,” His words are cavalier and cautionary, yet you discern a faint hint of hollowness in his words, as if he’s not exactly sure what to say or do with you.

You nod in response and give a slight smirk in hopes of easing the tension between the two of you. Diluc doesn’t smile back.

---

A year of being Diluc’s bodyguard (a position akin to being a glorified babysitter, except you have authorization to use lethal force) passes and you find a friend in the most unlikely of places: Diluc’s own brother, Kaeya. The blue-haired boy is a cheerful, charming spirit who took an immediate interest in you upon your first meeting.

“My older brother probably hates you,” He had said and you were unsure as to how to respond until he let out a laugh. “That’s okay. He hates almost everyone. I’m Prince Kaeya!”

Kaeya’s ability to find you on the castle grounds whenever your services are not needed for the elder prince is almost troubling. Any brief moment of peace you have often results in the persistent prince appearing at your side, excited to speak with you about whatever was going on in his life. Kaeya’s determination to become your friend, you soon realized, is rooted in the fact that the prince has little to no interaction with others of his age, something you had also noticed in Diluc’s own life upon your time watching him. Kaeya was not allowed the privilege to have friends his age, something you had taken for granted back in your hometown of Springvale.

“What are you thinking about?” Kaeya asks, the two of you sitting on a bench outside of the knight’s quarters. He bites into one of the apples he had brought along with him, soft crunching noises filling the the silence between you as you attempt to formulate a response.

“Well,” Your eyes flicker to the clusters of windwheel asters planted by the entrance to your residence building. “I am afraid my thoughts are not of much value at the moment.” You draw your words out in order to give yourself time to think of how to phrase your words. “At the moment, my thoughts are not very… kind.” Upon your words, Kaeya’s blue eyes gleam with delight as he leans over closer to you. The boy has pestered you enough to know what such words mean, as they are not a slight to him, but rather disdainful of his older brother.

“Do share them,” Kaeya pleads, his tone eager to hear what complaints you may have about Diluc.

You flatten your hands on the flat surface of the stone bench behind you and look up into the cloudless blue sky, enjoying the feeling of the warm spring sun on your skin as you utter your next words, “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Yes, yes!” Kaeya laughs, excitedly. “Share your vile thoughts so the world may cast their judgement upon the wicked sinfulness that reverberates in your mind!”

You snap your head to the boy next to you and stare at him with wide eyes at his words. The second your eyes meet his playful ones, the both of you break out into raucous laughter at his theatrics. His tone was haughty, mimicking many of the stuffy elites the two of you were surrounded by, including Diluc. At times like these, you were reminded that Kaeya was an outsider to the palace, just like you were, yet the hierarchy of the two of your duties separated you from him.

“Okay, okay,” You huff, trying to catch your breath from laughing. Kaeya simmers down upon realizing you are about to talk and looks at you expectantly, leaning slightly in your direction. “Yes, it’s about him.” The two of you burst into laughter once more.

“When is it not?” Kaeya giggles. “He’s so weird with you compared to how he acts with me.”

“That’s because you’re his brother. Of course he’s going to be nicer to you.” You explain before shaking your head slightly and swatting your hand through the air to signal that such a topic of conversation is something you did not wish to focus upon. “Anyways, today we were in another one of those stuffy formality meetings with some Inazuman diplomates. Y’know, those ones. And I’m standing by the door, keeping watch, like… it’s the usual kind of stuff I’m supposed to do. The meeting was supposed to be two hours, but Diluc’s refusal to compromise made the meeting run over it’s designated time by an hour. I swear, if not for the fact that it would cause an international scandal, Diluc and the diplomat guy would’ve started fighting each other.”

Kaeya’s eyebrows raise at your last statement and he laughs once more. “That’s Diluc for you. He means well but is awful at showing it to most people. He just… really believes in himself.”

“He shouldn’t,” You respond before clapping a hand over your mouth in shock as Kaeya roars with joy at your words, relishing in your loss of respect for the redheaded prince in your words. “I… I don’t mean it like that! I just mean… he’s still young. Such an unshakable perspective on international relations will only lead to foreign envoys viewing him poorly.”

“Yes, I wholeheartedly agree, but neither of us want to tell him this. He’d just scream at you and would give me the cold shoulder,” Kaeya muses as he outstretches a hand to you, offering one of the untouched apples he had brought along to you. You nod your appreciation and take the apple, piercing through its skin with your teeth as you bite into the red fruit.

“Prince Diluc does like to lecture his subordinates,” You agree after swallowing. “Especially me.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Kaeya advises with an optimistic smile. “If he’s willingly speaking to you at all, it means he likes you. He just does a piss poor job at showing it to anyone outside of the family.”

“Because he’s entitled.” You respond and Kaeya winks at you, gesturing his approval in your direction.

“Precisely! Now you’re getting it!”

---

On your sixteenth birthday, Diluc provides no well-wishes, but manages to give you the best present of all: a better attitude. His words are no longer infused with the disdain he once held for you, but rather coated with only a slight annoyance. With Diluc, you’ll take any improvement you can get. The change in his demeanor had left you reeling after a mere ten-word question, the whiplash from the complete upheaval of his attitude stunning you into silence.

“Would you care to go to the market with me?” Diluc had asked absentmindedly, focused on his paperwork at hand.

You had stood by the entrance to his personal study, warding off any unwanted visitors with your daunting presence and stoic demeanor. Despite how intimidating the other maids found you, Diluc had paid this unapproachable disposition of yours no mind, much to your gratitude. But as the rather innocent question fell from the prince’s lips, you couldn’t help but to look around and reassure that no one else had slipped into the room and evaded your watchful eye.

Diluc had given you a choice with his question -- an action he had never performed before.

Irked by your silence, Diluc set his pen down and looked up at you expectantly, folding his hands together and resting them on the desk in front of him. “Well?” He scoffed.

“Visiting Mondstadt’s main street would be nice,” You responded, unsure of your words. With Diluc, you were always unsure of your words. “Would you like me to assemble a party of knights to accompany us?”

Diluc let out a sigh and shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “I do not wish to attract unwanted attention with such procedures. I simply wish to get a breath of fresh air. Only your presence is requested, unless you believe it is unwise for me to leave with so few men by my side.” The boy’s words were inquisitive, holding an unfamiliar softness to him. The realization that the prince is genuinely seeking your approval of his plan caused you to bite back a smile in fear of spoiling his uncharacteristically pleasant mood.

Therefore, rather than rushing an answer to his response, you mulled it over. You had no reservations about your own fighting skills, having been chosen for your current position due to your highly proficient swordsmanship. Additionally, you knew of Diluc’s training with both his Pyro vision and his claymore, so you had few worries for the prince being able to handle his own. Both of these factors combined meant that you only had one issue to worry about.

“Well, according to protocol, a departure from the palace grounds would require multiple guards to be at your side,” You speculated, watching as Diluc’s shoulders fell slightly as he let out a huff of contempt. He lifted up his pen and prepared to work once more, but your additional words caused him to cease this motion. “But… I believe there is a way we can bypass these regulations, but I am not quite sure if you will enjoy it.”

Your plan leads to you standing in the main square of Mondstadt, hands clasped together as you watch a group of children run around the fountain. You are standing in your typical Royal Knight uniform with your weapon strapped to your back. At your side stands Prince Diluc, disguised as a fellow Royal Knight, much to his behest. His claymore rests upon his back, ready for him to wield should any evil-doers elected to make their presences known.

For Diluc, his cherry-colored hair and matching eyes do little to disguise him, but his typical introversion aids him, as the average Mondstadtian is unlikely to recognize their prince and, for those that do, are unlikely to believe that their prince is dressed up in Royal Knight attire and perusing the shops of Mondstadt with only one knight by his side. Your illicit plan, which involved smuggling a spare uniform into the castle then proceeding to sneak the prince wearing said uniform out of the castle, relies now upon one thing: the stupidity of your fellow citizens.

For your job’s sake, you pray to Barbatos that it works.

“I do not enjoy this outfit,” Diluc grumbles next to you, causing your attention to snap from watching the commoners of Mondstadt and instead to the prince of said kingdom. He pinches at some of the fabric on his leg, stretching it around in hopes of making the outfit more comfortable. You have never had any issues with said uniform, but then again, you aren’t a prince who has all of his clothes custom tailored to his build.

“To achieve true happiness, we all have to do things we don’t exactly like to do.” You chirp. Diluc’s aloof visage is now marred by furrowed eyebrows as he tries to decipher any potential hidden meanings behind your potentially parabolic words. However, you fail to give him proper time to ruminate, instead deciding to speak once more. “Where were you hoping to visit, sir?”

Diluc returns to his usual silence, but a faint flush that appears on his cheeks notifies you of his bashfulness.

“I’m… not sure,” He admits. If you did not have a code of conduct to follow, you would be screeching in delight at Diluc, the arrogant prince of Mond, finally admitting he does not know something. “I do not often have the chance to visit the heart of the city, especially in such a leisurely manner. However, you are from here, are you not?”

“I am from Springvale, sir.” You respond, forgoing your typical formality of my prince. After all, such a title would immediately blow Diluc’s cover. The redhead looks crestfallen at your words. “But… I resided in Mondstadt with my father while training to be a knight. I won’t be as good of a tour guide as a local, but I should be decent.”

���Do you know of any… eating establishments?” Diluc asks. You narrowly avoid sending a judgemental look his way at his wording. Did he not know they were called restaurants? Had Diluc never been to a restaurant? You were baffled.

“Do you prefer a to-go restaurant or a sit-down restaurant, sir?” You question and Diluc’s relaxed expression turns into one of befuddlement. Well, that answered the question if Diluc had ever experienced the basic societal activity that was eating at a restaurant. You knew royals were detached from society, but you never would have thought it to be this bad.

“Alright,” You say after a few beats of silence, smart enough to know that Diluc isn’t going to respond. The redhead’s expression returns to his typical indifferent one. “We’ll go to a sit-down restaurant, if that’s okay. A bit more expensive, but it’s probably the most immersive experience for eating at a restaurant for the first time.”

“I have been to a restaurant before,” Diluc lies, trying to save face as his cheeks begin to tint with pink upon realizing that you’ve seen right through him. You look at him blankly and his eyebrows twitch in annoyance upon his revelation that you weren’t buying his protests. “Fine, then. Lead the way.”

His typical annoyed tone is back. Well, kind Diluc was nice while it lasted, you think, rolling your shoulders slightly in preparation for his typical attitude. You nod in response and begin to walk. The prince matches your pace, determined to not fall behind someone of a lower rank than him.

---

You start to wonder if everyone in Mondstadt is pretending to be oblivious to the prince in their presence or if they’re actually just that stupid.

It’s a miracle that you managed to corral the prince’s confident attitude long enough to get him to sit down and order some food at The Good Hunter. Upon your arrival, Diluc managed to ignore the politely worded “Please wait to be seated” sign and started to walk past the hostess table, determined to seat himself. You had to pull him back to you by yanking his arm, an action that surely would have made Diluc lecture you for fifteen minutes, if not for the fact that he was still undercover. Instead, he settled for a scathing glare which only worsened as you gestured at the sign in front of the two of you.

Additionally, the prince was baffled by the entire ordering process, especially upon you informing him that it would take upwards of thirty minutes to receive your food. He was put off by the fact the chefs wouldn’t drop everything just to serve him first, to which you had simply taken a sip of your drink and not responded to such opinions. Now, the two of you were sitting in silence as your gaze fluttered around the restaurant and any passerbys, analyzing for potential threats. You found comfort in the silence as you were used to standing vigilant and quiet through your duty as Diluc’s personal Royal Knight.

“You are quiet,” Diluc states, his words almost an accusation. You look at him inquisitively, your gaze moving from the entrance to his red hues. You tilt your head slightly at his statement, signalling your confusion at his words. Diluc lets out a huff, bothered by your petulant, purposefully silent response. “You never speak unless if spoken to.”

“Would you prefer if I talk more, sir?” You ask. After all, you served the throne, which extended to Diluc. Any wish of his was your command, even if you thought he was generally an uppity, self-absorbed jerk. His eyes narrow slightly.

“I typically appreciate your silence,” Diluc confesses. It doesn’t feel like a compliment. “But now? It is quite irritating.” The prince stares you down, awaiting your reply.

“If I may ask, sir, why is such a thing irritating?” You question, turning your gaze back to the entrance as you speak. “I am merely observing the building for any potential threats to your life.”

“Look around, (Y/N),” Diluc says exasperatedly, as if his answer should be obvious. Yeah, that’s what I’ve been doing, you think bitterly, but elect to keep such thoughts to yourself. “Everyone here is speaking with someone else. Such social interactions are a simplicity of life commoners take for granted. The ability to speak freely with a non-familial companion is something I envy.”

Your gaze snaps back to the prince and you raise your eyebrows. “Is a wish for such companionship why you wished to go to the market, sir? To be a part of the lower citizenry?”

The prince breaks from staring at you, instead electing to study his hands in his lap, flustered by such a straightforward question. “I wish to better understand my subjects, yes. But I also wish to have the same liberties as them. I long for the freedom for platonic association with others of my age.”

“So…” You trail off for a second, lost in thought. “You want friends?”

The prince smiles bitterly at his friends. “Yes,” He answers truthfully. The single word is imbued with intense envy. “Everyone in my life, apart from my father and my brother, is placed in my life to placate me, rather than to accompany me.”

Your eyebrows raise briefly at his confession, perplexed as to why the prince is being so forthright and honest with you. For a split second, you wonder if the prince is swallowing his pride and asking to be your friend, but you quickly shoo such a childish thought out of your brain. You quickly determine that the prince isn’t interested in friendship, but rather wishes to use his subordinates, such as yourself, to fill the void in his heart. You decide to placate him nonetheless with a soft smile.

“Companionship is what you make of it,” You suggest, leaving your words vague as you lean back against your seat, crossing your arms and returning to watching the interest. The two of you fall into a silence once more, before Diluc speaks once more.

“I do not know much about you.” The redhead states. “Where are you from?”

For a man who wanted friends, he’s awfully bad at remembering information about his companions, you think. But you’ll gladly take the forced conversation with Diluc over him barking orders and insults at you all the time. You are well aware that you’ve sworn to protect the throne, even at the cost of your life, but you can’t help the desire for freedom from such burdens that swims in the depths of your mind.

“Springvale,” You echo absentmindedly. You barely hold yourself back from asking where he’s from, even if it would be funny to see his face twist in frustration at your teasing. “I was born there, but moved away at the age of ten to begin training to be a Knight of Favonius. Things changed and I ended up as a Royal Knight instead.”

Diluc’s interest is piqued at your words. You can’t help the feeling of discomfort that washes over you upon the sudden realization that you’re having a friendly conversation with your superior, a man who can barely tolerate your presence on a good day. He seems to be trying, though, and you can’t help but sympathize with his loneliness. As his personal guard, you’d be the first to say that Prince Diluc has very few friends.

“Why did you elect to become a Royal Knight rather than a Knight of Favonius?” Diluc asks, his crimson eyes staring at you.

“Permission to speak freely?” You requested, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. The question that you constantly asked his younger brother was now difficult to get out. Diluc’s eyes widen slightly, startled at your request, but his relaxed visage quickly returns, disguising his emotions once more.

“Permission granted.” Diluc says. The words feel jarring coming from him and you can tell he feels the same discomfort you do at this sudden change in professionalism between the two of you, yet he makes no move to change the topic of conversation or to stop you from speaking.

“My personal view on the Knights of Favonius is that…” Your words sound distant as you try to find the proper way of phrasing what you need to say. “They’re inefficient. Most of the Knights within Ordo Favonius prefer to serve themselves rather than the community of Mondstadt as a whole. They’re there because it’s a well-paying job. They dislike anything that threatens their reputation and job security.”

At that moment, you had no idea how seriously Diluc would take your words and the lasting impact such a confession would have on him.

---

You’re seventeen when you encounter the worst threat to the palace yet. You had been alone, forced to fight an Abyss Mage who had breached Mondstadt’s walls and headed in the direction of the palace. You had destroyed its shield by throwing a rock at a nearby exploding barrel on the wall. The resulting explosion had alerted nearby knights of the Abyss Mage’s presence, but the creature’s Cryo magic had severely frostbitten your arm before any help could arrive. In return, you had wielded your sword with a single hand and delivered the killing blow to the creature.

The Knights of Favonius weren’t happy with your decision to kill the creature, stating that having an abyss mage in their possession could have been a valuable resource. Helping the Knights of Favonius with their research wasn’t your job -- protecting the throne was. Therefore, you had no regrets about your decision to kill the gremlin who had almost taken your arm.

You sit on a bed in the Cathedral’s infirmary as a healer frets over your arm, using the power of their Anemo vision to speed up the healing process. The frostbite was recoverable, they had told you, but it would likely result in permanent scarring. To ensure full use of your arm would return, you were recommended to take a leave of absence from your protective duties in the palace for the following month.

While you were happy to be alive, you were irritated that such a situation would put you out of work for the next month. Sure, your position wasn’t the greatest, but it was a stepping stone to a better position within the Royal Knights, such as becoming one of the king’s personal knights or one of the organizers of palace operations. The organization itself focused on palace operations, which meant there wasn’t much room for growth as compared to the Knights of Favonius, who protected Mondstadt’s citizenry.

A month out of work meant a month less of progress in your career and, more importantly, a month less of protecting the throne you had sworn your life to protect. Your fate of becoming a knight was a decision you had made at a young age, clueless and starry-eyed, as you watched your father perform his duties around the palace. He had been a high-ranking Royal Knight, one of King Crepus’s personal entourage. He had wholeheartedly believed in everything the throne of Mond stood for, declaring that the throne protected the freedom of Mond’s people and fulfilled Barbatos’s wishes. As you trusted and idolized your father, you also inherited his same ideologies, locking you into a permanent life of duty as you swore to help defend Mond’s royal family from harm.

You had made that promise when you were ten and had yet to doubt it, seven years later.

The door to your infirmary room swings open and you watch the healer, still fussing over your arm as he applies new bandages, jump slightly at the unexpected intrusion. Despite the pain medications that the Sisters had given you before the healer began his work, your arm still throbs in pain, causing you to let out a hiss as the healer moves your arm in the midst of his surprise. He mutters a slight apology, but you’re more distracted by the intruder.

Your eyes widen in surprise, not having expected the intruder to be none other than Prince Diluc. His eyes flicker to your arm and, despite how the pain medication swirls your vision and jumbles your thoughts, you can see the irked disappointment in his eyes at your injury. Such a wound only results in inconvenience for him as he now needs to have a temporary replacement knight, who is unfamiliar with his typical protocols and routines. The prince lets out a long sigh.

“What? My supposed best knight is unable to handle some cryo slimes?” Diluc scoffs derisively.

Since your birthday last year, your relationship with Diluc has improved somewhat. Speaking to him often resulted in stiff, awkward conversation, but it is an upgrade from before, where talking to the prince in an amicable manner wasn’t even an option. More often than not, it would be the prince initiating awkward conversation between the two of you, not quite sure how to interact with someone his age outside without the use of diplomatic charm. The prince, just under two years older than you, didn’t seem interested in being your friend, but you also weren’t sure what to make of his platonic advances.

But now, as you sat in the Cathedral’s infirmary, you realized Diluc wasn’t here to provide friendship. He was just here to lecture you about your mistake of choosing to fight an Abyss Mage, about how you should’ve just let another knight deal with him, and about how you should have sacrificed the potential safety of the throne for his immediate comfort.

“Wasn’t any slimes,” Your lips are heavy as you struggle to form the words without slurring them together. “Was an Abyss Mage. Cryo one.” Your mind churns as you try your absolute hardest to focus on the situation at hand. Diluc’s in the room, you remind yourself as you fight the urge to slump back and fall asleep. You stare at Diluc, eyelids drooping with fatigue. You notice your fresh bandages turning red once more, causing the healer to sigh and apply more to your arm.

The prince is silent, but you see a quick flash of fear pass over his face, followed by an expression of concern. Both emotions are short-lived as he readjusts his posture and presses his lips into a frown, crosses his arms, and shifts his weight onto one leg.

“You should not have fought an Abyss Ma-,” He begins, but a loud bark of a laugh erupts from your system, interrupting him.

“H… Have you ever fought anything?” Your words are accusatory and borderline incoherent, but the narrowing of Diluc’s eyes lets you know that he understood what you had just said. “All… all you do is sit around! And… and… and you waste your vision! Everyone does everything… for you… I fight to protect you… your family… I don’t want to get injured, but here I am…”

The healer, upon realizing that you’re disrespecting the crown prince of Mond, wordlessly excuses himself from the situation and slips past Diluc to exit the room. Diluc parts his lips, ready to speak again, as a scowl crosses his face at your disrespectful words. However, before the redhead can speak once more, you raise a shaky hand, holding up your middle finger to the prince.

“If you’re… if you’re just gonna lecture me for… risking my life… for you… eat shit.” You manage to say, words garbled. You relish in the widening of Diluc’s eyes as he opens his mouth to yell before closing your eyes and promptly falling asleep, slumping over on the infirmary bed.

---

You awoke the next day with no recollection of the prior day’s events, except an innate sense of satisfaction, as if you had gotten something off your chest. Nervous that you had potentially said something foul to someone you shouldn’t have, you awaited a formal reprimanding of your unknown actions, but never received one.

Now, two weeks in, you’re finally getting back to normal as you water the plants outside of the knight’s quarters, having been assigned to take care of the landscaping today. Despite the tasks being relatively easy, they took you a while to complete due to one of your arms being stuck in a sling. You crouch over, trying to balance as you lean forward to water one of the red flowers stuck in the back of the arrangement.

“Hey!” A voice calls, causing you to drop the watering can in surprise, the water sloshing over your feet and onto the cobblestone around you. You lose your balance and fall backwards, landing on your butt, but before you can lecture the person who scared you, you feel two hands place themselves on each side of your waist.

“Up we go!” A familiar voice sings before hoisting you up to stand back on your own two feet. You turn around and narrow your eyes at him, placing the hand holding the empty watering can on your hip. The blue-haired boy before you smiles unabashedly, utterly pleased with himself. “Anything to save a damsel in distress!” “Yeah, I’m definitely defenseless,” You grumble sarcastically as the boy takes the watering can from you. His physique has changed over the years due to his interest in becoming a high ranking Knight of Favonius, but both his azure eyes still gleam with childlike mischief. He nudges your uninjured arm playfully.

“Aw, cheer up! You’re the toughest one-armed fighter I know!” Kaeya jests. You roll your eyes in response, biting back a smirk at his antics.

“I’m the only one-armed fighter you know.” You respond as Kaeya gently grabs your wrist and guides you to the bench where the two of you typically sit.

“Two weeks ago. What happened?” Kaeya asks, gesturing to your arm. You tilt your head, confused at his question. Surely he’s heard about it by now..? You think to yourself.

“An Abyss Mage got past Mondstadt’s outer walls, I was on break when I saw it, and I had to fight it, sir.” You explain quickly, but Kaeya simply shakes his head in response.

“No, not that! What happened in the infirmary?” His voice is teasing, but your blood can’t help but run cold at his words. Your intuition that something had happened between the time you arrived at the infirmary and before you fell asleep was correct. Much to your chagrin, you hadn’t been able to remember your actions, but apparently they were remarkable enough for the younger prince to have heard about them.

You let out a groan and rub your free hand over your face, already mortified by your actions that you had no recollection of. Kaeya lets out a laugh.

“Diluc visited you,” He explains, causing you to let out an even louder, more obnoxious groan. You lean forward on the bench, resting your elbow in your knee and cradling your forehead in your uninjured hand.

“Oh gods, what did I say?” You whined. After years of friendship with the younger prince, he had insisted you no longer be so formal with him. Honorifics slipped into your speech on rare occasions, but you generally spoke to Kaeya in the same way you would speak to your friends back home in Springvale.

Kaeya laughs at your theatrics. “Well, you weren’t very nice. You told him to, and I quote, ‘eat shit’ if he wanted to yell at you.”

You let out a noise of horror and Kaeya’s laughter at your embarrassment shakes his whole body. Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, the younger prince is absolutely delighted in your misery at the situation at hand.

“That’s not all! You also gave him the middle finger!” Kaeya giggles, nudging you as you continue your woeful theatrics. “You didn’t even use the right finger. You were trying to give him the middle finger but you used your pointer finger!”

You want to die. Heat is rising to your face so quickly that you swear you are going to faint. Kaeya pauses as your theatrics die down as you begin to hyperventilate, panicked at the situation at hand. Not only did you tell the crown prince to eat shit, you had also attempted to give him an inflammatory gesture and managed to mess up said gesture. Your career was over, you would become a disgrace to the nation, and, at the worst, you could be thrown in jail for such disrespect to the royal family.

You were a disgrace to the royal throne you swore your life to serve.

Heaving air in and out, you sit up, trying to keep your balance and not pass out from stress. Your eyes brim with tears and Kaeya looks at you in alarm. His hand finds your back, rubbing soothing circles that do little to placate your panic.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” He tries to soothe over your worries. “Someone had to tell Diluc that at some point!”

You let out a choked sob, leaning over once more. “T… that doesn’t help,” You whimpered. Kaeya’s blue eyes stare at your hunched over form, his blue irises swimming with regret and distress at your current state.

“Um… my dad found it funny?” Kaeya tries once more. Your sobs only worsen, causing Kaeya to clench his teeth at his own words.

“The king even knows about my irreverent actions?” You cry and Kaeya’s stress upon seeing your own stress only worsens. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in for a side-hug, rubbing his hand up and down on your shoulder in a calming manner. “You’re not in trouble, Diluc’s not mad… anymore, at least.”

Your crying turns into soft sniffles and Kaeya thanks Barbatos that he was able to calm you down. Wiping your tears away with the back of your hand, you let out a shaky sigh.

“I can’t believe I did that,” You breathe and Kaeya lets out a soft, reassuring chuckle.

“We all make mistakes, plus you were on some heavy medication!” He pauses as you look over at him and bites his lip slightly, as if he wants to say something more. You look at him expectantly and he lets out a soft sigh of defeat at your watery eyes pleading for him to continue. “Plus… I think Diluc kinda likes it when you yell at him.”

“You’re gross,” You whine, voice still wet with tears, but you manage out a soft laugh after your words. “No, he doesn’t.” “You’d be surprised about how he feels about you,” Kaeya teases, but you detect faint traces of sincerity and, if you focus hard enough, jealousy. Rather than dwelling on hidden meanings, you elect to take the blue-haired boy’s words at face value, nudging him back and giving him a look of faux disgust before letting out a soft giggle. He laughs and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “You’re so much prettier when you laugh, (Y/N)!”

You let out a soft laugh at his words, “Yeah, I’m sure I look spectacular right now.”

---

Diluc spots you from afar, recognizing your familiar figure crouched over windwheel asters in front of the knight’s chambers. He’s perusing the grounds on a routine walk as his bumbling replacement Royal Knight clambers after him in your absence. The replacement knight is lanky and nervous, filling comfortable silence with nervous chatter, despite Diluc’s best attempts to dissuade him from such actions. He’s an archer with barely enough arm strength to pull the bowstring back.

The red-eyed prince would never admit it to anyone, but he missed you. Not only did you make Diluc feel far more secure than the inept oaf that could barely keep up with him, but Diluc also missed your presence. He missed how you would speak with a slight edge to your tone, adding a dual meaning to your respectful words. Diluc missed the challenge you would provide him.

Even if he was on his deathbed, Diluc would never admit how his heart rate quickened and how heat rose to his face when you yelled at him with the disdain he always showed you. He would never admit how worried he was when you immediately passed out after doing so, blood seeping past your haphazardly applied bandages and spilling onto the floor. No, Diluc would never admit how his thoughts over the last two weeks had primarily consisted of you, even though the two of you had not yet spoken.

Diluc wasn’t sure what to make of his thoughts, nor his altered emotions when you were around. Despite the fact that his tempestuous attitude made him detest the way you were constantly on his mind, a larger part of him wished to keep you close and have you serving the throne at his side once again.

The blundering knight catches up to Diluc as the redhead’s brisk pace slows to a halt as he observes you. After an unknown amount of time, the knight clears his throat, snapping Diluc out of his reverie. The redhead watches you for a moment more. His stomach churns as he watches his younger brother approach you, hold you close, and make you laugh.

Diluc isn’t sure what this feeling that’s gnawing away at his stomach is. A part of his brain tells him that it’s obvious, but Diluc denies such obvious truths, knowing he, one of royal blood, would feel such an emotion over a mere commoner and subordinate of his. Watching you with Kaeya, however, brings an immense frustration to the forefront of Diluc’s thoughts. A scowl forms on the crown prince’s face as he whips his head to the direction of the inept fool that’s been assigned to protect him.

“Let’s go,” He snaps. The knight shakily salutes in response, his composure shaken yet again by Diluc’s sour temperament.

---

Two more weeks pass and you’re officially freed from the restrictions placed upon your duties. After passing a clearance test at the Cathedral which resulted in the destruction of multiple training dummies, you were cleared for full duty as a Royal Knight once more. You were thrilled to be free from the chains of the menial labor you had been assigned for the last month and excited to get back to work, but such feelings were also accompanied with unease. You had a pit in your stomach at the thought of going back to serve the prince that you had so blatantly deprecated.

But, nonetheless, you enter Diluc’s chambers, your typical neutral expression adorning your face. The prince looks up from his desk, slightly startled by the intrusion, but a brief smirk crosses over his face at your presence before returning to a stoic expression, almost as if he was mimicking your own. He parts his lips to speak, but before he can, you drop yourself down on one knee, genuflecting in his direction. You don’t make eye contact, electing to stare down at your knee instead.

“Please forgive my spiteful words I uttered upon our last meeting, my liege,” You request, uttering the words you had practiced many times in the mirror this morning while getting ready. “I was not in the right frame of mind.”

Diluc stares down at you, expression unreadable. The silence is nearly unbearable, suffocating you as the tendrils of embarrassment and shame swirl up your legs, around your torso, and settle on your throat before pressing down, choking you of air. You feel a flush of heat rise to your face as the seconds tick on. You’re unsure if the prince is going to speak at all, let alone forgive you, but your doubts are quelled as he clears his throat.

You look up at him to see narrowed crimson hues staring down at you sternly.

“Very well. Do not say such things ever again,” Diluc warns. You jump to your feet and salute in his direction.

“Yes, sir!” You respond and the prince lets out a huff before returning his attention to the papers on his desk once more. You move to stand watch by the door, but the prince clearing his throat once more has you turning around to look at him again.

“Oh, and (Y/N)?” Diluc questions and you brace yourself, ready for him to unload his anger upon you. However, he does no such thing. “I have a meeting at nine with some Sumerian scholars interested in Mondstadt’s alchemic discoveries. Don’t let me be late.” The redhead doesn’t look up, already having begun moving his pen across the papers in front of him once more.

“Understood, sir.” You respond as you reach your typical spot by the door. You bite back a smile as you stand guard.

---

Over the next several months, you notice major changes in Diluc’s demeanor and attitude towards you. The prince is more confident, but in a less suffocating, arrogant manner, but rather a more charming manner. He remains an introvert, but his diplomatic meetings end up with far better results due to him learning to navigate the rough tides of foreign relationships and his mastering of hollow platitudes to placate any overseas dignitaries. He’s no longer a brash and tempestuous presence in the field of international relations, but one made of falsified smiles and foreign appeasement.

For once, you look at Diluc and see not only a prince, but the rightful heir to the throne.

The change isn’t instantaneous, but for Diluc’s personality to have made such a massive change in such a short time, you realize that there must be something the prince is trying to work toward or someone he desires to impress. Despite being at his side for almost his entire day, from when he starts work in the morning to when he retires to his chambers at night, you aren’t entirely sure what his motivation is.

You figure it’s likely something his father said to him, due to their frequent meetings you aren’t present for. Even from your earliest days working as Diluc’s bodyguard, you could tell he valued his familial relationships above all else. While he often remained hot-tempered with Kaeya, his relationship with his father was amicable and one Diluc cherished. From the few times you had been in King Crepus’s presence, the king had showcased what the throne of Mond should stand for; he put the freedom of his constituents first and reigned only to ensure order and protection for the people within Mond.

Your few interactions with the king had such a positive impact on you that they, along with your father’s actions, spurred you to join the Royal Knights. You could only imagine what type of influence the king’s constant presence had on Diluc.

Most noticeably of all, however, was Diluc’s attitude towards you. He was no Kaeya in terms of charm nor friendliness, but silences between the two of you were no longer forced and neither was conversation. The crown prince was more attentive to which types of conversation seemed to genuinely interest you, as compared to forced small talk. He also understood that silence wasn’t a form of punishment, nor did it signal that he was angry.

You wonder if he changed due to your conversation at the infirmary. Diluc lectured you less, sent less scornful looks your way, and insulted your skills less frequently. The changes had been so subtle that you hadn’t noticed how Diluc had blurred the lines between being a person whom you guard only due to obligation to someone you would protect without hesitation until the two of you browse Mondstadt’s yearly winter market together.

Diluc’s carmine irises glint with the reflection of the white Christmas lights adorning the square as he peered into the windows of a bakery. He seems quietly enraptured by a miniature palace that sat in the center of the cakes and other delicacies, made out of gingerbread. As you turn to look around at everyone else, ever vigilant, you notice the prince suddenly snap his gaze away from the display and look around wide-eyed.

You begin to reach for the hilt of your sword that rests on your back, but you freeze when Diluc’s vision stabilizes on you. His stance relaxes and the redhead offers you a small smile before waving for you to come over. You drop your hand that now rests on the hilt of your blade to your side and begin to walk over, watching as Diluc stares at you in slight confusion before letting out a soft laugh.

At that moment, you realize something that fourteen-year-old you would have loathed you for saying: you would call Prince Diluc a friend.

“Have you ever had gingerbread before?” Diluc asks, turning his gaze from you to read the label underneath the castle.

You nod your head. “It’s made with um… cinnamon… cloves… not sure what else, but the gingerbread in the window’s probably crunchy and… not really sweet? It relies on the taste of the spices within it, not sugar.”

The prince looks thoughtfully at the gingerbread palace once more. “I know what gingerbread is, but do people really eat these… ornate structures?” His tone is confused, but sincere. You let out a soft laugh of amusement. The old Diluc would have interpreted it as an act of derision, but current Diluc simply awaits your answer.

“Oh, that’s a tradition to put them into houses and buildings and such, but you can also shape it into little gingerbread men. Those are my favorite! Typically the smaller decorations are eaten first, but people don’t really eat the big houses,” You elaborate, excited to talk about the desserts as you also ogle the gingerbread display. Diluc looks at you halfway through your speech and smiles softly at your warm tone, pleased to have evoked such a reaction from you.

“Wait out here,” Diluc orders and, before you can protest, the crown prince slips into the shop, the bells on its door chiming softly as he enters. You stand by the door, your gaze moving from peering through the glass at Diluc to watching the commoners walk by. Only a few moments later, the bells chime once again as Diluc exits. A small paper bag is in his hand and he opens it up.

“Hold out your hand,” He orders in a sharp tone while looking into the bag. You comply, flattening your hand and holding it in front of you. Diluc plops a small gingerbread man in your hand. “It reminded me of you.”

The cookie is a traditional knight dressed in armor and is decorated with royal purple frosting and a white sword in its left hand. You stare at it for a moment, before a wide grin breaks out on your face, shattering your aloof expression.

“Thank you,” You murmur softly. Diluc’s cheeks flush red at your praise, but you attribute such a change in his appearance to be caused by the temperature change from exiting the warm building.

---

Diluc, you have come to find, is easily distracted by storefronts. Even his stoic demeanor cannot hide the childlike awe in his eyes when he sees something interesting in a window display. He’s dragged you in and out of numerous stores after being enraptured by objects in the windows. It’s bad enough that the both of you are now carrying bags of various trinkets he’s purchased with his seemingly limitless funds. Diluc, you note, doesn’t seem to get out much.

While you enjoy the chance to shop and explore Mondstadt’s seasonal festivities, you do not enjoy the snowfall that coats your hair and uniform as you wait outside each shop, standing watch. Despite being bundled up in layers, you’re still cold from standing still for so long.

Diluc exits yet another shop and stifles a yawn. “I believe I should head back now. It’s getting late,” He mutters and you simply nod in response, following his lead as he begins to walk back to the castle. The two of you walk in silence as the chatter of Mondstadt’s civilians and the crunching of your shoes on freshly fallen snow fill the gaps.

After a few minutes of trying to hold it in, you can’t help but shiver at the cold. You feel a bit of heat rise to your face, embarrassed that a knight of your stature is shivering due to cold, and it only multiplies as Diluc suddenly stops next to you.

“Are you cold?” The redhead asks, his gaze intense.

“No,” You lie, shaking your head. His eyes narrow.

“Take my scarf,” He orders, but you shake your head once more.

“I couldn’t possibly do such a thing,” You refuse politely, but Diluc isn’t having any of it.

“You’re cold, therefore take the scarf,” His explanation is rough and laced with the typical tone of annoyance you’re all too familiar with. He begins to unwind his scarf from around his neck.

“It’s my duty to ensure your comfort,” You protest. “Therefore, you keep the scarf as you should stay warm.”

“It would make me more comfortable if you wore the scarf instead.” Diluc argues and you swear you see his eye twitch slightly. “Plus, what kind of prince would I be if I let my constituents suffer on my behalf?”

Bullseye. He knew right where to hit you, despite his irate and annoyed tone. That bastard knew to appeal to your sense of honor in order to get you to do something. Begrudgingly, you hold out your hand to take the scarf, but before you can stop him, Diluc’s stepping close to you and wrapping the scarf around your neck for you. He forms two loose loops around your neck and you can feel his breath on your face as he looks at your neck. The prince’s leather-gloved fingertips brush against your neck as he adjusts the scarf and you watch his eyes narrow slightly in concentration as he fixes the scarf.

“There,” He almost sneers upon deciding that the scarf’s placement was adequate enough. “Now was that so hard?” Without waiting for your response, the prince turns and continues walking back to the castle. You pause for a moment, flustered, before jogging after him slightly to catch up.

The two of you continue your walk in silence, but the warmth of the scarf does nothing to eliminate the chill of the blade strapped to your back, reminding you that your and Diluc’s relationship is no more than one of contractual obligation.

---

Diluc’s kind behavior lasts for about two more years. The prince, now twenty, departs Mondstadt’s capital for three weeks, without you by his side. Diluc is now under protection of the king’s guards and a squadron of the Knights of Favonius as his father accompanies him on the journey to Fontaine, meaning that you get an extended vacation from your royal duties. You visit your home in Springvale during this break, aching to get back to work as the lack of activities slowly begins to drive you mad.

Your birthday occurs within this break period and, much to your surprise, a bouquet of red carnations is delivered to your doorstep as a gift from the prince himself. Diluc had never done such a gesture before and you ignore the way your heart beats a tad bit faster as you read the note settled amidst the beautiful, deep carmine blossoms. You recognize Diluc’s penmanship instantly as you spot the words ‘Happy birthday, (Y/N).’ sprawled across the card.

You smile softly to yourself and tuck the card back into the bouquet before admiring the blossoms. Brushing your fingers over the petals with a featherlight touch, you opt to set the vase on your dining room table rather than admire it for much longer. You’re certain a bouquet such flowers, considered exotic in Mondstadt, costs more than double your paycheck. You do not wish to dwell on such a thought for too long.

When your mother arrives home later that night, she pops her head into your room to say hello, a knowing smirk gracing her features.

“Who sent the flowers?” She asks in an amused tone as you bookmark the page of the book in your hands and close it in order to pay full attention to her. “Are you dating someone that I don’t know about?”

“Yuck, that’s weird,” You let out a soft laugh. “No, they were sent by the prince for my birthday.”

“Prince Diluc or Prince Kaeya?” Your mother asks, a mixture of surprise and concern in her voice.

“Prince Diluc,” You clarify, raising your eyebrows at her tone. “Why?”

“Red carnations have an… interesting meaning,” Your mother, a florist, explains. “...Interesting birthday gift.” You shrug off her implication and open up your book again, not wanting to hear your mother’s crazy theories about meanings of the flower bouquet.

“He probably just picked them because he likes the color red. Don’t sweat it too much,” You say absentmindedly, the pages of your book already drawing you back into reading. Your mother giggles, excusing herself from the conversation as she trots down the hallway.

For your own sanity, you choose not to dwell on her words. You planned to thank Diluc for his kindness

---

The nation is in mourning.

Diluc had returned last night, bloodied and traumatized, from his trip to Fontaine. Alongside of him, only half of the Royal Knight and Knight of Favonius combined unit that accompanied the royal family returned as well. The most notable absence, however, was King Crepus himself. Rumors immediately spread like wildfire, ranging from the idea of Diluc having killed the king to seize the throne all the way to a Fatui attack on the royal family. You’re doubtful that such outlandish notions are true.

The official declaration the following day proves you to be correct; the palace announces that the royal caravan had been attacked by a dragon, resulting in King Crepus’ death, the death of seven Royal Knights, and the death of three Knights of Favonius. Even the typically lively center of Springvale is no louder than a quiet whisper the following day as the nation grieves the loss of its leader and loyal knights.

Your heart hurts for both of the princes, knowing how difficult it is to lose a parent. You can only imagine how much harder it is when their next moves and responses to their father’s death will only become fodder for royal gossip. The throne, which you had sworn to protect, was now vacant, but such an event had been out of your hands. You hadn’t been allowed to accompany the royal family on their journey and, without a vision, you would have likely been killed if you had gone anyways.

However, upon the palace’s announcement of the king’s death, it was also announced that Prince Diluc would not immediately be crowned due to “unforeseen stipulations” King Crepus had left behind in his will. This information, of course, immediately became gossip amongst the townsfolk, ranging from Diluc needing to find a bride before marrying to ideas that Diluc needed to obtain an Anemo vision before being allowed to lead the nation. You were wary about such ideas and figured Diluc had prepared for whatever requirements his father had left for him.

Three days after the death of King Crepus, each Royal Knight, including yourself, receives orders that they no longer work at the palace. Ordo Favonius takes over these claims, allowing any Royal Knight to join their ranks. You want to believe that Diluc wouldn’t just shut you out like this, but you know better. Diluc never wanted any Royal Knights by his side and, after his father’s death due to a lack of adequate knights, certainly wouldn’t want a visionless personal guard. You had almost died fighting an Abyss Mage, for archon’s sake. How would you be able to protect Diluc from a dragon?

The death of his father meant the end of your contract with the prince. You knew this would happen one day. You ignore the feelings of sadness that blossom in your chest at such a thought, contributing them to the (hopefully) temporary end of the Royal Knights as an organization. Your sadness is not over your lack of connection with the elder prince, you tell yourself, but rather grief over the career path you had sworn to follow upon finishing training.

Once Diluc sets his mind to something, it’s almost impossible to sway him from such thoughts. Therefore, ignoring the clenching of your heart, you sign away your future to the Knights of Favonius and agree to participate in a training assessment in order to determine your new title and which sector you would join the ranks of within Ordo Favonius.

Your only regret about the time with the Knights is that you did not have a chance to say goodbye to either prince.

---

A week later, you receive your placement within the Knights of Favonius. Despite your lack of expertise in such an area, you had been appointed to the Cavalry Unit within the Knights of Favonius ranks. You weren’t unfamiliar with a horse; you had scored highly on your cavalry usage exams in training. However, you hadn’t ridden one since your appointment to the Royal Knights.

Upon your arrival to your first day of your new position, you learned you weren’t the only new face within the unit. Five other Royal Knights had been placed within the Cavalry Unit as well. Most shocking of all, however, was the the appointment of a new Cavalry Captain, especially since the knight chosen for the position was none other than Prince Kaeya himself.

The blue-haired prince, now sporting an eyepatch and a cryo vision, looked equally as confused to see you as you were to see him. Rather than sporting his typical jovial attitude, he simply nodded his acknowledgement of your presence. Kaeya was your superior now, after all, meaning he couldn’t showcase favoritism. The prince announced a few changes to the cavalry unit. First, you were to address Kaeya as ‘captain’ and not ‘prince’. Second, the cavalry unit would focus on securing Mondstadt’s perimeter, along with the perimeter of any outer villages as needed. Thirdly, the point Kaeya elaborated the least on, there was to be no talk of the royal family unless essential to the tasks at hand.

As he finishes his speech, you salute and chant your understanding with your new comrades. You can’t help but wonder why Kaeya now wears said eyepatch and why he has a new vision. Despite you having seen him a month ago, the blue-eyed boy now seems lightyears away from you, as if he was sand falling through the cracks of your hands without you even realizing.

---

Two years pass and, due to your work ethic in comparison to other Cavalry Unit members, you ascend in the ranks of your unit. Being one of the top five members of the thirty member unit meant that you and Kaeya spent more time together. You slowly watched as the blue-haired man began to revert to the boy he once was, but he never fully regressed to his childlike state. For starters, Kaeya is far more secretive than he used to be, electing to use little white lies to avoid conflict and any deep, meaningful conversations. There is a profound sadness that mars his powerful stature that wasn’t there before.

In the words he does exchange with you, his brother is never mentioned. The thought of bringing such a topic up to Kaeya makes your tongue heavy, the words remaining unspoken. Instead, Kaeya elects to talk about easily digestible topics in brief phases, such as small talk about the weather, unimportant chatter about military gossip, and hushed conversations about current trends in Mondstadt.

Kaeya has plunged himself into a self-imposed exile within the icy waters of his mind and you lack the proper equipment to save him. You can only watch as he disappears into the salty blue depths of anguish from the safety of the shore, unsure how to lend a helping hand. You are crafted from the sharp blades of swords, untrained in the studies of alchemical healing.

The blue-haired prince’s spirits only rise in the spirits of others, namely the ones sold by Angel’s Share. Every Friday night, as a mandatory “team bonding” activity, Kaeya and the four other highest ranking members of the Cavalry Unit, which unfortunately includes you, collectively go to Angel’s Share and get absolutely wasted, making blubbering fools of themselves. Tonight, just like every other Friday night, you can tell when Kaeya’s on his third drink as he begins to ramble about the history of Angel’s Share. He noisily explains how Angel’s Share is the legendary bar founded by the first King of Mondstadt before he had obtained the throne. During this time period, you slip a few spare mora to the poor waitress having to deal with your rowdy group who will inevitably throw the bill of tonight’s drunken activities on the backs of taxpayers.

You spend your evening nursing a glass of grape juice, wary eyes darting around the room in an analytical habit you had picked up from your job years prior. Old habits die hard after all. You watch as the first two fellow unit members excuse themselves the bar, deciding to stumble out before they could completely disgrace themselves.

It isn’t until Kaeya’s sixth glass of Death After Noon that the rest of the unit calls it quits, wobbling their way back home. One glance at the prince has you signaling to the bartender to cut the prince’s supply off. You stand up and walk over to Kaeya, who suddenly looks elated that you’re here.

“(Y/N)! My favorite!” Kaeya exclaims from his seat, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug and forcing you to rest your hand on the table for balance. “You came for my birthday party!”

“It’s not your birthday, Captain,” You respond. Your heart clenches at his carefree tone, reminded of your teenage years with the boy. The smell of his alcohol-laden breath dispels such naively hopeful notions and you push yourself out of his loosened grip. “Alright, it’s time to go home.”

“Home?” Kaeya asks, his revealed iris glistening with confusion. “Why? It’s not fun there… the party’s here!” The prince is pliable as you hoist him up and swing his arm around your shoulder, clutching onto his waist for support. Archons, the prince was heavy. You take a small step and, despite the alcohol fuzzing his brain, Kaeya seems to understand and stumbles alongside of you.

Once again, you are no more than a glorified babysitter.

You fish the bag of mora Kaeya brought with him out of his back pocket and the prince giggles as you unceremoniously toss the bag out on the table and drag him out of the bar. The two of you walk in silence for a few minutes before Kaeya begins to chant your name over and over. Despite your annoyance, you decide to indulge him.

“What.” Your words lack any form of sincerity, embittered with the situation at hand. Kaeya reaches over and pokes your cheek with a free hand.

“I miss you, y’know?” Kaeya croons, before he smiles with watery eyes. “All the time. You’re always on my mind.”

Oh Barbatos, here we go, you think. You had encountered the prince while intoxicated numerous times before, but never before this had he directed his sappiness in your direction.

“Y’know why?” He teases, slurring his words slightly. You continue to trudge on in silence, shifting him slightly to try to make it easier to carry him along. Kaeya frowns at your silence. “Guess why!” His words are a demand and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Any chivalrous respect you had for Prince Kaeya was now absolutely demolished, due to both his public intoxication and the comforting fact that he wouldn’t remember any of this conversation in the morning.

“Why?” You ask unenthusiastically, knowing he won’t leave you alone until you do so.

“Because I’m in love with you, silly! I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen,” At his confession, you almost drop him. Your blood runs cold, but you trudge on nonetheless. An oath to protect the royal family persists even if one drunkenly confesses their love to you. Your heart clenches with pain for Kaeya, wishing you could have realized his feelings sooner. Maybe it would have alleviated some of the pain he carries each day and tries to wash away through copious amounts of liquor.

He burps loudly and lets out a bitter laugh. “You’re so… so pretty. And strong! But… he fancied you first! I can’t compete…” The man trails off, seemingly losing track of what he’s saying, stumbling through his words. “I can’t compete with royal blood.”

Your hand slips off his waist and the two of you are sent tumbling into the ground as Kaeya’s arm around your shoulder drags you down with him.

---

Your legs are shaking from exertion as you guide Kaeya through the darkened hallways of the castle, softly shushing him and pulling him closer to you each time he tries to twist away from your grip to cause drunken havoc on the hallway decorations. His free hand trails across the stone walls as he giggles at their texture, having forgotten all about his woeful, self-pitying cries from earlier. As you round the corner to enter the hallway consisting of the chambers of both princes, Kaeya’s quiet amusement with the ornate tapestries that adorn the walls stops.

“We’re home!” Kaeya yells and you immediately shush him, absolutely terrified of waking up a certain redhead.

The corridor reeks of familiarity, nearly suffocating you with nostalgia for simpler, happier times. The decorations have barely changed, aside from a new vase by the door to Kaeya’s room.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you around here, (Y/N)!” Kaeya cheers and you shush him once more, silently pleading with Barbatos to shut the blue-haired prince up. If anyone nearby was unaware of your disgraceful return to the palace grounds, they certainly knew now. His voice drops in volume a bit, still far too loud for this time of night, but better than his raucous hollering as the two of you approach his door. "Would you like to come in, my fair lady? I know many ways to pleasure a woman."

You’ve sacrificed every Friday night for far too long for Prince Kaeya. You love him while he’s sober, but now? You absolutely despise his drunken antics.

"The only pleasure I'll get tonight is finally being able to get rid of your drunken ass," you finally snap, nearly dropping Kaeya once more in mortification at your own words. You couldn't speak to a prince so callously, especially when you were stone-cold sober.

Kaeya pauses before throwing himself into a fit of drunken laughter. "You're so cute but you're so mean, (Y/N)!"

You ignore his antics, realizing the best course of action is to get the rowdy prince in his room where he can scream to his heart’s content. You turn the knob of the door and shove Kaeya into the room, causing him to let out a nervous giggle.

“You’re coming in?” He exclaims and lets out a gasp of surprise. “But wait, I’m shy!” He throws his hand dramatically to his forehead, pretending to faint as the back of his palm lightly brushes it. You let out a loud grunt as the dumb bastard son of a bitch motherfucker drops the entirety of his weight on you. Unable to support him any longer, the prince falls to the ground next to you and laughs. You finally understand why the young bartender at Cat’s Tail hates drunk people so much.

“Captain, get up,” You order, exhaustion creeping into your tone. You prod his stomach lightly with your foot as the drunken prince lets out a groan in response. He closes his eye, ready to fall asleep on the ground, but you manage to muster the last of your strength to pick him up bridal-style. After you rush over to his bed, you unceremoniously drop him on his plush mattress.

Your job is now done. You could strip his clothing down to make him more comfortable while sleeping, but you’re not sure if you can muster the energy to do so. Such an action is beyond the new jurisdiction of your duties as a Knight of Favonius. Plus, you’re fairly sure you’d never be able to look Kaeya in the eye again if you did do such a thing.

“Wait, my loyal knight,” Kaeya drunkenly slurs as you turn to leave his chambers. You bite back a sigh of defeat and turn to look at him with a blank expression. Internally, you’re trying to calm yourself down, utterly frustrated with the situation at hand. “Come here.”

When a prince calls for you, you unfortunately have to listen. You trudge over to Kaeya and place a hand on your hip, looking down at him. The prince shuffles around on his bed as he clumsily sits up, leaning on the headboard for support. You open your mouth to ask him what he needs, but before you can utter the words, Kaeya heaves forward and disperses the contents of his stomach all over your uniform before falling back into his pillows, passed out.

You are speechless as you look down at your clothing, now stained with the deep red-purple hues of the copious amounts of wine Kaeya had ingested earlier in the evening. Biting back the urge to throw up in return, especially as you feel the fabric of your clothes begin to dampen against your skin. You quickly ensure the prince is asleep before quite literally tearing off your soiled pants in disgust.

Despite the oath of fealty that bound you to your job, you briefly considered threatening to quit after tonight unless you got a raise. Now, you were pantless and soon-to-be shirtless due to the sheer incapability of being able to handle somebody else’s body fluids against your skin. Your eyes darted over to Kaeya’s closet and a lightbulb went off in your head.

---

You had taken one of the younger prince’s spare uniforms in his closet and left him a nicely written note explaining the situation. Rather than saying that he threw up on you, you simply wrote that your outfit had been torn while carrying him back to the palace. Some facts, you believed, were best left as secrets. The fabric bunched over your shoulders as you adjusted it to the best of your capabilities, trying to get the odd size to fit your figure properly as you silently cursed Kaeya for having such broad shoulders.

Wrapping your now shredded and sullied uniform into a ball and tucking it under your arm, you made sure Kaeya was asleep once more before stealthily sneaking your way to the door. In a way, you felt like Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to give to the poor, except the poor only consisted of yourself. It is not stealing if you give the uniform back upon request, you tell yourself as you quietly creak open the door. As you make your escape, you turn to face the door as you close it, gently pulling it towards you and holding onto the doorknob to ensure that the noise of the door settling into place would be quiet as possible.

The last thing you wanted was for a drunken Kaeya to wake back up and force you to read him a bedtime story. As the door settles into place, you let out a sigh of relief, only to hear someone clear their throat behind you. Your eyes widen in humiliation and fear and your shoulders cringe upwards as you stare at the door in front of you. Scratch that, this was the last thing you wanted. Rather than let it become any more awkward, you let out a soft breath and settle your expression into your typical stoic one before whirling around to face your fate.

In this instance, your fate is for your eyes to meet the familiar crimson-hued ones that you had not seen in years. Dressed in an ornate, stealthy black and white outfit, the man looks far older than when you had last seen him, as if the last two years had been incredibly hard on him. You had no doubt that they were. You watch as his eyes widen in both recognition and surprise as you fix your posture. A flash of hurt crosses his expression before his expression mimics your own neutral one and the two of you simply stare at each other for a few moments, unsure of what to make of the conversation.

You notice Diluc’s claymore is strapped to his back and he has a fresh bruise forming on his cheekbone. You don’t dare ask what happened to him. It’s no longer your place to worry over him, but you can’t help it as his irises glimmer with sadness upon seeing you. Despite his neutral face, his eyes shine with emotion, as if he’s heartbroken to see you.

“Uh, hello, sir,” You greet, breaking the silence as you try to gather your composure. You offer him a salute, trying your best to keep your arm from shaking in both anxiety and exhaustion.

“Hello..” Diluc echoes absentmindedly, as if his mind is elsewhere. He quickly seems to recollect his bearings as his eyes scan you up and down. “Did you two have a fun night?”

His tone is unreadable and, if coming from anyone else, you would assume his words to be a joke. You let out a nervous laugh and Diluc’s eyebrows raise slightly at the uncharacteristic noise. A gut feeling tells you to choose your next words carefully. Upon your silence, Diluc’s eyes narrow slightly.

“You are wearing his garments. It does not take a genius to figure out what the two of you were doing together,” He explains, his voice devoid of emotion. A wave of heat rises to your cheeks and you are thankful for the low hallway lighting as it helps hide your embarrassment.

“Oh, um…” You trail off, breaking eye contact with the redhead as you look down at your outfit. “It’s not like that. He… he threw up on me.” Your words are unconvincing. Despite you knowing the truth, your nerves make it sound as if you’re pulling lies out of thin air to cover yourself. Diluc, of course, notices such a thing as he echoes your words.

“...He threw up on you?” The elder prince repeats, disbelief coating his words as he narrows his eyes at you.

“Yes, my prince,” You confirm. Diluc seems unsettled by your verbal formalities, but you carry on nonetheless. “He indulged in a few… too many drinks at Angel’s Share. As his subordinate, I felt as if it was in my duties to bring him back to the palace. He then proceeded to… release the contents of his stomach onto my uniform. If you do not believe my words, sir, you can… look at the uniform…” You hold out the balled up uniform in front of you and the stench alone is enough to make Prince Diluc’s nose scrunch up.

“I believe you, (Y/N).” He responds after a moment of contemplation. Diluc goes quiet once more, but you still stand at the ready, not having been dismissed from the conversation. “How… how often does this happen?”

Diluc’s gaze tears away from you. He looks nervous to be asking such a question. You’re not quite sure what he’s implying with his seemingly loaded question. “If I may request for you to do so, could you please clarify your query, my prince?” You ask as his stoic expression returns and he stands up straight, having collected his thoughts.

“How often does Kaeya inconvenience you with his immature drunkenness?” Diluc asks, rubbing his hand over his jaw in exasperation. It’s unclear as to whether he’s exasperated with Kaeya or with you. Diluc’s eyebrows furrow in thought as he awaits your answer.

You think your answer over. Lying to the king-to-be definitely wouldn’t be ideal, but it would help Kaeya. You weren’t sure what was going on with Kaeya, but you knew he was hurting. The blue-haired boy you once knew would have turned his nose up at alcohol. Now, he was damaged enough to have turned to it as a coping mechanism. You are no fool; you see the way Kaeya cringes if there are too many candles lighting up the room each morning.

However, Diluc clearly cared enough about the situation to ask and a part of you was chanting to throw Kaeya under the bus for throwing up on you. You would just be issued another uniform and it was not as if you did not have a spare one in your closet. Plus, Kaeya’s problem was spiraling out of control.

“Once a week,” You answer. “Every Friday. Normally, the prince can make it back by himself, but I am typically relegated to being the sober official of the Knights of Favonius in fear that they’ll trash the place without any supervision.”

Diluc lets out a sigh. He turns around and begins to move back around. “I’ll see to it that such behavior of his is fixed. Dismissed.” The prince waves you off with a dismissive hand and you watch as he enters his chambers, the door closing softly behind him. In return, you walk out of the palace with your head held high, rather pleased with the way the conversation went considering the circumstances Diluc had found you in.

A small part of your heart twists at such an uneventful reunion, as if you had expected something more. You shake your head to try to eliminate such thoughts. You had merely been Prince Diluc’s subordinate, nothing more. Taking the compromising position Diluc had found you in, he had been more than fair to hear your explanation out and to even go so far as to offer to assist you with your troubles. It was your duty to serve the throne and not his duty to serve you, so why did part of you want more?

---

Diluc's definition of fixing Kaeya's behavior is, in fact, not to speak to kaeya about his behavior. Kaeya is none the wiser about his own actions as well, simply issuing a new uniform and a muttered apology about how you had to deal with his behavior. Unfortunately, you aren’t off the hook for the typical Friday night rendezvous at Angel’s Share. You begin to wonder if Diluc had forgotten his words to you as everything seems to be returning to normal. In fact, he probably didn’t care. He just said that to get you off his back, you tell yourself. It was probably too much of a nuisance to readjust Kaeya’s behavior, especially when Kaeya was so far up in the Ordo Favonius’s hierarchy of soldiers.

A visionless soldier like you was dispensable, but a strong prince with a cryo vision was not. Therefore, it only made sense for the Knights and Diluc to prioritize Kaeya’s comfort over your own.

The following Friday rolls around and you finally encounter your first change. As you arrive to early morning training, Kaeya tells you that the Acting Grand Master, Jean, wishes to speak with you. Having given up on Diluc enacting any possible changes to your regiment, you’re baffled as Jean hands you a set of new orders. Confusion is written on her face as well.

“You’re the only one with new orders,” Jean had told you. You weren’t sure if she was supposed to tell you that, but you figured she hoped you would have some explanation. “Especially orders as… odd as these.”

Her words make you actually read the piece of paper in your hands, rather than respectfully waiting until you left to do so.

“Oh,” The word tumbles out of your lips before you can stop it as you gape at the paper like a fish. You have been ordered, directly from the desk of King-to-be Diluc Ragnvindr, to return to the palace to be the elder prince’s royal bodyguard once more. You meet Jean’s expectant gaze with a look of confusion.

“If I may be so brave as to ask, do you know why you have been given such orders? Prince Diluc has been kind of… avoidant when it comes to the Knights as of late.” Jean asks. Her voice is kind like always, but you note a hint of curiosity within it. You can’t help her for being nosy.

“I was his bodyguard once before but..?” You shrug, not really knowing the answer. “He found me last week after Prince Kaeya threw up on me, but I doubt such a thing would have led to such a drastic change.”

Jean’s eyes light up in faint recognition and she softly smiles. “Oh, you were the bodyguard? That makes a bit more sense…” She trails off, lost in thought. “Hm, but such a rearrangement would only happen if he was preparing to… Never mind that, you said Prince Kaeya vomited? On you?”

You feel heat rise up to your cheeks as you nod. “Prince Kaeya is… not quite aware that he performed such… actions while intoxicated, so I would appreciate it if you could keep this a secret between us.”

The Acting Grand Master’s eyes shine with amusement and she lets out a soft, chime-like laugh. “Of course. Your secret is safe with me.”

You begin to walk out of Jean’s office, but freeze in your tracks. “I have one more question, if you don’t mind me asking,” You say. Jean nods for you to continue. “Why did Diluc choose me to be his bodyguard and not somebody with a vision?”

Jean lets out a melodic giggle, her blonde ponytail shaking as she does so. “I have my guesses, but I believe that’s only something the prince himself can answer.”

You nod in response, looking back down at your orders. “Thank you, Acting Grand Master.”

---

“You’re late,” A familiar voice admonishes you as you enter the throne room of the palace. It is a familiar room you had long since given up hope on ever seeing again, with gleaming gold and green accents adorning its stained glass windows. The room holds an intimidating yet freeing aura, but in your eyes, the most threatening thing in the ornate hall is not the gilded throne nor the massive marble statue of Barbatos, but rather Prince Diluc, who stands at the bottom of the steps that lead up to the throne.

Diluc adjusts his black gloves, ones you hadn’t seen him wear before, as he awaits for you to meet him in the center of the room. The click of your uniform’s boots against the tile and the soft clinking of your sheathed sword against your belt fills the room, reverberating through the open space as the sounds fill the silent void between you and Diluc.

“My apologies, my prince,” You state, bowing in respect. Diluc stares at you with an unreadable expression.

“You always were the type for formalities,” He muses almost wistfully, but catches himself and clears his throat. “Nonetheless, such impropriety will not be viewed upon well in the future.”

You stand up straight and salute him. “Understood, sir.”

Amusement dances in Diluc’s carmine irises as your gesture. “Welcome back, (Y/N).” He says, holding out a hand for you to shake. You shake his hand firmly, appreciative to see his amiability had not disappeared in your absence. As you drop his hand, Diluc seems to sense the unspoken question that rests on your tongue.

“There are no other Royal Knights yet. I do not trust any other knights to be capable of doing their jobs,” Diluc explains briefly before moving past you and out of the throne room, beckoning for you to follow. You fall in line alongside him, listening as he details your duties. For a moment, you’re seventeen and naive again, wondering what happened to the previous impression you had of the prince.

---

Two months pass and, in many ways, it's as if you had never left. Yet, the man you are designated to guard is more reserved with those around him, but the bluntness with his emotions remains. If Diluc isn’t happy with a situation, he’s not one to hide it, except for the sake of diplomacy. Despite not sharing blood with his brother, the two of them hold the same sadness in their shoulders when no one is watching, burdened by the secrets of the world. You stare at Diluc far more often than you do his younger brother, justifying such actions with your duties in an attempt to ignore the fact that you find the elder prince easy on the eyes.

Diluc looks at you too. When your duty is to observe, you tend to pick up on things quickly, especially the long glances Diluc sends your way when your attention is elsewhere. Your thoughts often consist of the secrets Kaeya had divulged to you in his drunken state, but you shove such nonsense out of your head. Kaeya had no place to speak on Diluc’s behalf and you determined that he was likely only projecting his own insecurities on Diluc. A selfish part of you still yearned for Kaeya’s words to be true each time you would notice the elder prince’s gaze to be upon you, but your duty prevailed over all. Unable to pinpoint why you felt this way, you would simply stare straight ahead, acting oblivious to Diluc’s gaze.

The distance between the two of you closes, both physically and emotionally. Diluc stays close enough to you that your elbows brush against each other while walking and you contribute such actions to Diluc being nervous after his father’s death. He’s much more touchy, reaching out to you with subtle gestures to make sure you’re near, rather than verbally reassuring your distance. If the two of you are outside the palace grounds and the prince is distracted by something, he’ll reach out to ensure that you’re still close.

If you aren’t nearby, Diluc will snap out of whatever daze he’s in and look around frantically for you, as if you had disappeared into thin air. The sheer panic in his eyes has taught you to stay close to him.

Diluc values your opinion. Previously, when he would have suffered in silence, the two of you have small conversations about issues he may be facing in his life, such as how to deal with a petulant Fontaine diplomat who doesn’t know how to take the word “no” as an answer. Diluc enjoys the new perspective you bring to the table, but he doesn’t let you in much farther. For his heaviest burdens, Diluc elects to keep to himself.

For that reason, you do not ask about his brother. You only provide your condolences on the day of his father’s death and make yourself available if he needs you.

---

Six months into your new appointment under Diluc, you finally gather the courage to ask a question you have desired to ask since your first day. You bite your lip slightly as you drop your gaze from guarding the door and instead flicker your gaze over to Diluc, who is sitting in a red velvet armchair by the crackling fireplace. The two of you are within the spacious area of his father’s study, soon to be his own, but such a room is still rather unfamiliar to you. The unknown territory of the room pushes you to move the unknown territory of the question you desire to ask.

“Um, sir?” You ask, uncharacteristically nervous. Diluc’s eyes immediately break away from the pages of his book, startled by you speaking. Normally, Diluc was the one to initiate conversation.

“Yes, (Y/N)?” He asks patiently and you feel heat rise to your face once more. Why are you flustered? you ask yourself as Diluc gazes at you intensely, awaiting your words with earnest.

“Apologies if I’m… overstepping by asking,” You begin and a flash of worry briefly crosses the prince’s face before he raises his eyebrows in intrigue. “But… why have you not ascended to the throne yet?”

The prince flushes a deep scarlet. He fumbles slightly with the book in his hands and looks down at it nervously. Such bashfulness is uncharacteristic of him, but then again, being so forthright was abnormal for you. Had you overstepped boundaries? Nervousness begins to claw at your stomach and climb up your throat, but the feelings are quickly quelled as Diluc clears his throat and smiles softly down at his book, trying to gather his bearings before responding.

The prince looks at you, but fails to make eye contact. “My father was a bit… peculiar in the guidelines I must follow in order to become king.” His fingers tap lightly on the cover of his book as he lets out a soft sigh, clearly unnerved by your question, but not wanting to make much of it. The prince is now twenty-three. Surely you could not have been the first person to ask him such a question?

“Oh,” You respond quickly. “I apologize if I overstepped any boundaries. Thank you for your answer, my prince.” A stoic expression quickly plasters itself on your face as you retreat back into yourself and Diluc’s eyebrows furrow at your reaction.

“It was not a bothersome question, just one I… had not been expecting, that’s all,” Diluc says, reading directly into the way you had closed yourself off. He notices the way your posture relaxes at such a statement and his eyes soften. “A few others are aware of the stipulations, so there is no such way I can circumvent them.”

“Ah,” You murmur before speaking once more. “Are the conditions to become king difficult?”

Diluc finally meets your eyes, a wistful look on his face. “They aren’t. I am just… not quite sure if the timing is right or how to broach the subject of them.” His voice is barely above a low rumble, but you hear him perfectly.

Your heart clenches at his words. You don’t know why.

---

Diluc’s twenty-fourth birthday rolls around and, when compared to every prior birthday of his in the past, the palace is ablaze with life. Mond’s economy had taken a slight downturn in its luxury goods market and Diluc had agreed to help bolster the industry by hosting a diplomatic birthday of sorts. Invite the richest people within Teyvat to explore Mondstadt and all its palace has to offer, conveniently place luxury goods within the vicinity, and the markets for said items are guaranteed to increase in demand. Diluc had explained all of this to you, including going in depth on the economics, and ordered you to put together a temporary unit of knights to serve as security at the party.

Such merriment and festivities would not lead to joy for you, but rather more work hours and stress. Assembling a team of competent enough fighters was difficult enough. Many within the Knights of Favonius were kind, but easily influenced, meaning that they were untrustworthy to leave within the realms of foreign dignitaries and prying eyes. Ultimately, you had settled on a trustworthy team of twenty core knights, all assigned to different positions within the ballroom. Some were framed as servers, some were framed as partygoers, and others would simply be required to wear their knight uniforms and guard the entrances and exits.

Despite security being a massive event, the biggest outlier was not the people who would be attending the party, but outsiders wishing to take advantage of such important people congregated in a single event. For that reason, all other knights were stationed within other parts of the palace and around its perimeter, in order to secure the area for the party. You weren’t too worried about the people inside as any foul moves would lead to massive geopolitical repercussions against any evildoers.

As for you, you were assigned to be Diluc’s right-hand knight, guarding his side at the party. While you were always ready to perform your assigned duty, you couldn’t help but wish you had door duty, as such a position would not require the diplomatic ass-kissing you were obligated to perform.

Now, as you stood at Diluc’s side near the center of the room, you weren’t sure what to make of the situation. The prince was effortlessly calming and smooth in his conversations with potentially hostile foreign dignitaries. Hell, he was even being respectful to the Fatui, even though you knew he likely wanted to ram his head through a wall speaking to the sleazy minions of the Tsaritsa.

What you hadn’t expected, however, were the wine trays floating throughout the room. You and Diluc were both aware to only take appetizers and drinks alike from a specific server, not wanting the elder prince or you, the head of security for the event, to have contaminated food. However, as Diluc drank his third glass of wine, you were beginning to wonder if you would be able to keep up. Finishing off your second, you smiled politely at the server and politely declined a second glass, ignoring the look of confusion Diluc sent your way. You already felt tipsy. The last thing you wanted was to be unable to do your job.

“Ah, Prince Diluc!” A vaguely familiar voice calls from behind you and Diluc the moment Diluc finishes speaking with a diplomat from Natlan. How do I know that voice? You ask yourself before feeling your thoughts swim a bit due to the alcohol. You silently cursed yourself for accepting the drinks at all, but when the first round of drinks had appeared, Diluc himself had taken one for you. How could you have said no to a request from your prince?

You and Diluc both turn around to see the intruder and you recognize him immediately. Dottore, one of the eleven Fatui Harbingers, stood before you and Diluc, a wide grin on his face. Immediately suppressing a groan and forcing your expression to stay neutral, you silently curse the fact that Harbingers made it on the guest list, especially one as irritating as Dottore. At his best, the man was an arrogant asshat. At his worst, Dottore was downright psychopathic with little regard for the people around him. You knew Diluc was aware of such things, but the prince had to stomach such disdain for the harbinger and at least attempt for a polite conversation.

“This is quite a lovely party,” Dottore compliments, but such praise from him is only worth about as far as you can throw it. “Mond is quite a prosperous nation.”

Your gaze flickers between Dottore and Diluc as they exchange meaningless pleasantries. You lose track of their conversation, electing to scan the room (and watch Dottore) for any potential threats or foul moves. However, you’re quickly snapped back to the conversation as Dottore’s attention turns to you, his masked red eyes boring into yours.

“You are the prince’s security detail?” Dottore’s words are less of a question and more of a statement, as if he already knows the answer. You avoid glancing at Diluc and instead meet Dottore’s gaze straight on and hold out your hand.

“Knight (Y/N), sir.” You respond and Dottore laughs crookedly while shaking your hand with a grip far too aggressive for your liking.

“Ah, aren’t you an… interesting specimen,” Much to your behest, Dottore takes your hand in his own gloved one and looks at it, as if he’s inspecting you. “You are his only personal knight at this event yet you are visionless… Quite an intriguing move for a prince who flaunts his so proudly.”

Your eyes instinctively move to look at Diluc, whose brows are furrowed and eyes glistening with anger at the situation unfolding. Diluc clears his throat and immediately returns his expression to one of neutrality as he realizes your gaze is now upon him. “Dottore, are you not one to believe that humanity is more than their visions?”

Dottore drops your hand unceremoniously and you quickly retract it to your side in fear that such an event happens again. He chuckles at Diluc’s words and turns to look at the prince once more. “Of course. I just simply never took you as the type to share my beliefs.”

Despite neither of them owning an Electro vision, the air between the two men crackles with energy. Dottore grins as Diluc glowers, eager to see if the refined prince’s composure shatters. The Harbinger knows he’s pinpointed Diluc’s weak spot, so rather than continuing the rather unamusing staring contest, Dottore’s gaze returns to you once more. He casts you a saccharine smile, dripping with insecurity, as he leans in close to you.

“I must believe you have some tricks up your sleeve. I look forward to seeing what they are,” The Harbinger’s tone drops to a low, sultry one as Dottore’s hot breath fans over your face, reeking of the odd combination of mint and wine. His words are not an expectation, but rather a promise. After a second more of leering at you, Dottore is sensible enough to realize Diluc’s limited patience is waning, so he takes a step back and stands up straight. “Nonetheless, I must make my exit now. Prince Diluc, as nice as it was to speak with you, I understand your wish not to share your toys.”

Just as quickly as he had appeared, the Harbinger disappears into the crowd. You look over at the prince standing near you. He takes a sidestep closer to you and for a split second, you’re reminded of the Prince Diluc you once knew, the one who could barely contain his anger and derision and took such feelings out on his subordinates verbally. The contempt Diluc feels for the situation that just unfolded is written all over his face, but he quickly gathers his composure. Knowing him well enough, you can sense the irritation radiating off him in waves, but you dare not comment on it.

Before another diplomat can intervene, Diluc leans in close to you, voice no more than a low whisper. “Dottore is up to something.”

---

Diluc, in his typical stubborn nature, refuses to let the Dottore situation go. Two hours afterwards, long after his mood had returned to normal, Diluc is excusing himself to use the bathroom, signaling for you to follow him. However, the elder prince remains silent as the two of you walk past the bathroom and into the chambers that had been converted to house foreign dignitaries who would stay the night and leave in the morning. The prince glances up and down the hallway frantically, making sure nobody is following. His pace is hurried, as if he’s looking for something.

You’re smart enough to realize Diluc’s only silent when he desires for others to be as well, but the two of you have been walking long enough that you part your lips to speak. Before you can utter the words, Diluc is opening the door closest to the two of you.

“Here,” He mutters and before you can follow, the prince grabs your arm and pulls you in after him, immediately letting you go afterwards. You were utterly baffled as to what room the two of you were even in, considering you had barely been in this part of the palace before. “Dottore’s room.” Diluc explains.

That’s a shitty explanation, you think. With the alcohol in your system, you are spurred to question his decisions, something you never would dare to do sober.

“With all due respect, sir, why are we raiding Dottore’s room?” You state as Diluc crouches down to look underneath Dottore’s bed. You silently question why that’s the first place the prince bothers looking, rather than looking in a more normal place, such as Dottore’s desk drawers or the suitcases lined against the wall.

Diluc lets out a huff of air at your words, but doesn’t admonish you for them. “He’s up to something,” Diluc mutters absentmindedly.

“I know he’s a suspicious character and he’s Fatui, but all he did was disrespect you with his words. Does that really mean he’s up to something?” You ask and Diluc pauses through rifling through the limited possessions the Harbinger had brought to Mondstadt. Still crouched down, the prince turns to look at you with an expression of confusion at your words.

“You aren’t normally like this,” Diluc states plainly and you feel your face heat up in embarrassment. He squints his eyes in an attempt to read your stoic expression in the dark. He lets out a sigh, unable to come to a conclusion, and returns back to looking through Dottore’s stuff. “He was clearly challenging me. He’s hiding something and wants me to find it.”

With Diluc’s back turned to you, you roll your eyes. Why are men always like this?

“Maybe he was just flirting,” You suggest, your tone annoyed.

“I was n-” Diluc pauses and clears his throat. “I mean, he was not flirting with you.” He sounds outraged that you would even discuss such a thing.

“Sir, his words had that weird kind of aura to them. With all due respect, I believe I’m not ugly enough that he wouldn’t flirt with me. He just sounded kind of horny,” You say, as if such a thing should be obvious. Diluc freezes completely and stands up, turning to look at you. His eyes are blown wide at your words and, in your alcoholic stupor, you’re unaware of the egregious unprofessionalism of your words. The prince steps closer to you, his crimson gaze boring into yours.

“Archons,” He mutters after a few seconds. “They didn’t serve you grape juice, did they?”

“Nope,” You respond in a gleeful voice, popping your mouth at the end of the word. “Were they supposed to?” You ask cluelessly, leaning on the wall behind you.

Diluc lets out a frustrated huff, but it doesn’t seem directed at you. “Barbatos, they had one job,” He mutters to himself before walking over to Dottore’s desk and bending over to look at the contents of the desk drawers. “Anyways, just watch the door. That’s an order.”

Even in your tipsiness, you are aware enough to sense Diluc’s frustration at the situation, so you bite your tongue and watch the door. Your gaze flutters between the elder prince and the door, unable to focus on your assigned duty as the alcohol swirls through your system. The elder prince’s noisy actions of rifling through files draws your attention and you look over at him, eyebrows raised. However, what catches your attention is a glint of white in his back pocket.

“What’s in your pocket?” You ask, causing Diluc to let out a frustrated huff.

“I said to watch the door,” Diluc reminds you in a harsh tone, but by now, you know the prince is all bark and no bite.

“I have two eyes,” You respond combatively. Diluc sighs, knowing this is a fight he won’t win. “One to watch you and one to watch the door.”

“That is quite literally not how vision works, (Y/N),” Diluc tries to explain, but knows there’s no reasoning with alcohol. He’s encountered his brother enough times after his drunken escapades to know when to give up. “Just… use both to watch the door.”

“Tell me what’s in your pocket and I will,” Your words are dangerous and if Diluc wasn’t fond of you, he could easily have thrown you in prison for saying such things.

“We’re done in here,” Diluc states after a few moments of ignoring you, placing the final file back into its rightful position and dusting himself off. He walks over to you and pulls the white object out of his pocket, holding it out to you. “It’s a mask, by the way.”

“Okay,” You say, taking the mask in your hand. You’re not far enough gone to try putting it on, so you simply slip it into your own pocket. “What’s in the other pocket, then, sir?” You ask, a sly smirk appearing on your face. Diluc flusters at your mischievous expression as he brushes past you to exit the room.

“Nothing.” He responds, but you know otherwise. As the two of you exit into the hallway, you take advantage of the fact that the prince had exited Dottore’s room before you and you quickly snatch the object in his other pocket. You had only seen the outline of it, but now that it rests in your hands, you’re utterly baffled as to why he would hide such a thing.

“What is this?” You ask, holding the object away from Diluc as he whirls around, trying to grab the object from your hand.

“Stop acting like a child, (Y/N),” Diluc warns, but there’s a faint desperation in his voice. “It’s my Vision.”

“This isn’t your Vision,” You state, staring at him with furrowed brows. “Your Vision looks different from this.”

Before you can theorize any more about what the faux-Vision in your hands is, Diluc opens the door closest to the two of you and pulls you in rather roughly by the arm. You only tighten your grip on the object in response.

“Could you be any louder, (Y/N)? Barbatos, it’s just a Vision, but it’s not mine. Give it back.” Diluc orders, but you simply smirk at him as the two of you stand in the dark of the supply closet he had cornered you in. The light filtering from underneath the door allows him to barely see your expression, despite the overall darkness of the room. His hand fumbles against the wall before the room is lit in a soft orange light as his hand finds an unlit candle near the door.

“Hm,” You say upon seeing his glowering expression. He looks absolutely furious, but for once you aren’t living in fear of such an expression. In fact, he looks rather delicio- “Make me, Diluc.” The words tumble out of your lips, sultry and sweet, before you can even finish processing your own thoughts. Right now, for once in your life, you have the chance to make Prince Diluc beg and you are relishing in the moment, in all of its unprofessional glory.

Diluc’s eyes flash with anger and as he angrily grips your wrist and shoves you back into the shelf behind you. The wood juts into your back and you let out a soft cry of both surprise and pain as objects begin to clatter off the shelf around the two of you. Taking advantage of your surprise at his forcefulness, Diluc manages to wrangle the object out of your hand and he fastens it securely in within his breast pocket, away from your prying, tipsy hands. As Diluc’s harsh grip on your wrist fails to falter, you feel tears bubble up in your eyes, unable to hold them back. Okay, maybe you had more than two drinks, you tell yourself.

Before you can stop them, more words are spilling out of your mouth, but they’re no longer the empowered ones you wish you could say.

“I do everything for you,” you blubber pathetically and watch as Diluc’s eyes widen at your tone. “And the one time i want something in return, just to know something about you, you’re mean to me.” Before you can stop them, you’ve activated the waterworks, tears freefalling down your cheeks. The only word to describe Diluc’s expression is terrified.

“N... no, don’t cry.” Diluc’s grip on your wrist loosens, but he still holds it close, his other free arm pulling you in by your waist into a comforting hug. His gestures and words are stiff as if he’s not sure how to do this. You’re fairly sure the two of you are breaking each and every code of conduct at this moment, but for now, you don’t care. His hand rubs the small of your back in a comforting motion, his thumb trailing up and down the part of your wrist that he likely bruised. “You’re my best knight, the only one I can trust, it’s… okay. Please don’t cry.”

The prince’s words are frantic and softly spoken, as if he’s trying his best to pull compliments out of thin air to stop your tears. Despite him not being very good at comforting you, your sobs start to subside into small hiccups as you bury your head into the spot between his shoulder and neck. You feel him stiffen at the gesture. Nonetheless, he pulls you into a tighter one armed hug.

After you manage to get your tipsy tears under control, you let out a shaky sigh before continuing with your words. “Why do you never let me in? I swore my life to protect you. I’d do anything for you. but you just shut me out every time,” You whisper, voice still stained with the tears you had just cried out. In the morning, you’d be mortified with your words, but for now, you brain is encouraging you to continue. Diluc pulls away from you and cups his hands on the side of your face, using his thumbs to wipe away your tear stains.

“You’re too valuable to waste your tears on someone like me.” Diluc mutters as the pads of his fingers soak up the salty tears. His tone is saddened from your actions.

“Answer the question, Diluc, please,” you beg, dropping the honorifics once more. You stare into his eyes, searching for an answer. You watch him inhale, as if he’s trying to muster up the courage to say something.

“Okay,” He breathes, eyes looking into yours for reassurance. “Okay.” His voice is more resolute as he repeats the words. “I don’t know how to keep you close without making you uncomfortable. I don’t know how much I should let you in without scaring you off. I feel this way because for the last six years, I’ve been in-”

Before he can finish his words, the door to the supply closet swings open. The bright light causes the both of you to flinch as a third voice gasps dramatically. You blink rapidly, trying to adjust your eyes to the bright lights from the hallway in order to understand what’s happening, your hand reaching up to the hilt of your sword.

“My, my, what a scandalous sight,” the voice (Dottore, you identify) croons and the two of you look on in mortification. “A prince and his knight having an illicit rendezvous in the janitorial closet.”

The two of you look out to see a small crowd of five people having gathered -- Dottore, his assistant, Kaeya, Jean, and another Fatui agent. You’re not sure why they’re all gathered outside, but what matters is that they’re now viewing you after having been caught in a broom closet with the king-to-be’s hands cupping your face and him staring into your eyes.

Fuck, you think as Diluc’s hands rescind from your face quickly, as if the water of your tears had scalded him.

[shotorozu]

BABE , i saw a hc ( i think it was urs) where the boys’s s/o was really fashionable, ( as somebody that’s gone viral on pinterest a little too many times ) I WAS WONDERING , what if you did a todobakudeku ( separately please omg) with somebody that’s like the emma chamberlain of fashion and they own everybody’s pinterest boards and stuff AHAHA IDK , the amount of times somebody has said ‘ wait ur that one pinterest girl right?? ‘ ANYWHAHEEIE I LOVE YOU N HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!! 💗💗

pinterest famous s/o

character(s) : midoriya izuku, bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, they/them pronouns (at the request of anon) strong quirk hinted; not specific

headcanon type : fluff, crack-ish (x reader)

note(s) : thank you anon!! so ok, i still used they/them pronouns even though the reader is afab (again at the request of anon) and whdjwkd sorry for the inactivity :,) also im gonna post more later so— sorry for the delay

»»————-　♡　————-««

midoriya izuku

when middle school midoriya finally got a phone, he downloaded pinterest for the sole purpose of looking at screencaps of heroes

but then, he hasn’t touched it a few months, because he’s been training with all might

then, when he finally had enough free time again— he decided to go on pinterest

but instead of finding any heroes he could look at, he found the prettiest human being he has ever seen in his entire life 💀

that person was a different type of beauty, y’know— they weren’t just fashionable, but their beauty was,,

timeless? that’s how he’d describe it. yeah. that person lived in his head rent free for a while

sadly, he feels like you’re that person he sees once in his life, and never again 😔　which isn’t the case

when he finally meets you, midoriya realizes that you look VERY familiar— someone on pinterest, that he unfortunately, didn’t know the name of

but then wait! he realizes that you’re that person. that one person that blew up on pinterest, and ended up in all of the fashion boards.

okay, you’ve been recognized a few times in the past, just because you were pinterest famous— but you didn’t expect him to recognize you

“wait,, you know me?” you asked him when you saw the realization sink in

and you were honestly,, flattered when he went on a tangent on how you were on all of the pinterest boards, and how your sense of fashion was timeless

but you know what’s the best thing of it all? when izuku developed a crush on you (and not because he thought you were just an attractive face)

it was very easy to find pictures of you online! he says it’s for research but,, he tends to look at them for a long time

probably has 3-4 pages dedicated to your hero costume— since fashion icon = fashionable, yet a very practical hero costume!

does he get jealous whenever people fawn over your looks, or whenever he sees comments in pinterest comment sections just asking for your socials in such desperation?

hmm,, yes? he does occasionally feel like someone like you, should be with someone as equally beautiful as you

he thought he was always plain looking, but you wholeheartedly disagree! in fact, you fell in love with his ability to pay attention to detail.

to the random creeps in the comments section, he just contacts the uploader and asks them to delete any malicious comments and it works 100% of them time.

on the brighter side, he helps a lot with taking your pictures (if you ask him to) and sometimes! he’ll even appear in them

izuku will always be your #1 fan!

bakugou katsuki

at first, you’d be like “katsuki owning pinterest? naaah.” but! i think he would

being an all might fan, he liked looking at all might screen caps— and while katsuki would be on the discreet side, he’d find himself looking at them whenever he has extra minutes to burn

not to mention, the cooking recipes on there aren’t the worst, so he doesn’t just use pinterest to look at screen caps of heroes doing their work

and, how could he forget that you’ve been bugging him to search for rare screen caps? he says that it’s useless— but he finds himself digging for you anyway,

which is whyyy

he finds an entirely different rabbit hole, and it’s way past 10pm, 3 more minutes wouldn’t wound him.

the blond doesn’t know how he even stumbled on.. this side of pinterest. the one that kind of hurts his eyes.

the more well known side of pinterest, that is covered in pictures of fashion boards, and the standard pretty person.

the ‘aesthetic’ side, kaminari calls it— it makes bakugou cringe, and he was just about to refresh his page

when he spots something familiar, it’s you‼️ well it wasn’t just you but, you were dressed in something,, nice.

like sure! you’re attractive. but that’s not why he’s dating you, there’s a lot of reasons as to why

but, he’s baffled. seeing you in a different light, and in such nice clothing, what more, when he sees that you’re actually everywhere. he hasn’t seen this much of you and your attractive ass before

katsuki told himself that he was going to sleep a few minutes ago, but now? he’s left admiring all of your pictures.

how did he not know that his s/o’s pinterest famous? you’re practically in every single board!

he confronts you the next day in an oddly weird manner, “you didn’t tell me you were famous on that stupid pinterest app.”

you’re sheepish, “welll, i didn’t know that you were going to stumble on that side of pinterest!”

he doesn’t say anything, and really! it looks like he doesn’t care about the newest discovery of his s/o

but he shows his feelings in his own way.

like, how katsuki insists that he finds a new outfit that you’d absolutely love— one that’ll fit with your aesthetic

and that he insists that he does your graphic liner, because you’re going to ‘poke your eyes out’

makes an entirely different account to reply to those simps and creeps in the comment section, sort of like

random pinterest user : “the things i’ll do to be crushed by them 💦”

pinterestuser461903 : “go touch some fucking grass.”

also would’ve commented “your art sucks” at the poorly done drawings of you in the comments, but knows you appreciated the art— so he doesn’t

(still thinks the fanart doesn’t do you enough justice)

he’ll be super proud when someone notices you in person like “yeah that’s fucking right, but too bad they’re super attractive and way out of your league.”

in short, it looks like katsuki doesn’t care at all about your pinterest famous life, but he’s your #1 supporter

todoroki shouto

i am certain for this one— he doesn’t have pinterest

well, he didn’t have pinterest, until midoriya convinced him to create an account, but it kinda just ended at that

but the person that actually made him use pinterest was sero, because he kept bugging him to give it a try

todoroki finds the app very practical— he can find screen caps of heroes in action, and he can also find oddly helpful tips in cooking (and in anything)

but sero was like “todoroki, what about the aesthetic value??” and todoroki didn’t really get that part to be honest 💀

todoroki, being clueless didn’t know what to search for— so sero being the wonderful friend he is, helped him search for it

and that’s when it happened. it didn’t take that long, but they eventually found an entire section just full of pictures of you; their classmate and crush

“is that Y/N?” mina notices what they’re looking at, and she observes the picture “oh wow— it is her! no wonder why she looked familiar.”

“it’s impressive! our classmate is pinterest famous!” they continue to look at every single post in each board, and todoroki’s left to observe in silence

he has definitely taken a liking to you, even if he didn’t realize it at first— he liked you because of your hard work when it came to training, personality and patience, not because of your looks

obviously, todoroki thinks that you look good in anything, trashbag style or not. but seeing you in this light was interesting.

so after training, todoroki would spent a good portion of his time scavenging for more pictures— not because he was obsessed or anything

but because,, he really liked your pictures. maybe it was because without you in those pictures, it would feel incomplete

he didn’t know how to approach you after this discovery, which is why he’s glad that you approached him first

“todoroki! what are you looking at?” you took a peak at his screen, and you’re baffled to see yourself, and that very famous picture of you

he’s quiet for a second when he realizes that you’ve caught him staring at your pictures, but he explains calmly, “sero accidentally discovered your pictures,, and i just wanted to take a peak at them, if it was okay,,”

and he’s relieved— well, you’re also relieved. you didn’t know how your crush would react if he ever saw those pictures, but your heart skipped a beat knowing that he enjoyed looking at them

“it’s alright todoroki,” you smile, honestly over the moon as you spoke “i’m really glad that you like them.”

sometimes you’d get shy whenever he’d go on pinterest just to look at your pictures, “todoroki, not that one! that one was really old,,” is what you’d say whenever he’d look at your older photos but he’d still look at them anyway 💀

at first, todoroki helped you in his own subtle way. since he’s quite the fashion icon— he’d recommend you clothes to wear for future pictures

he eventually confessed— and it was because you were talking to him while he was really tired, and he blurted out that he really, really liked you and you almost passed away because of his words

so yeah— it was a case of secretly admiring their beautiful best friend to lovers scenario

he’d go the full mile when it came to taking your pictures. he’d check the weather forecast just in case if it was going to rain for that date, and impromptu picnic photoshoot

that boyfriend that has pictures of you in his photo gallery, and has a backstory for each photo if anyone were to ask

also that boyfriend that knows how to take pictures, will probably even lay down to take them, even if you didn’t kindly ask him to

when you asked him to join the picture, he didn’t really know how to— but he made it work! and the both of you guys went viral

but this isn’t all one sided, no— whenever you guys would cuddle, shouto would simply stare at you with HEARTS in his eyes,

and even before he leans in for a kiss, he’ll stare at you with so much love in his eyes, while he traces his thumb across your cheekbones. man’s in love— you’re gorgeous.

he knows that you know that he’s not with you because of any ulterior motive, you both have mutual trust in each other— so it’s not something you guys will bother on questioning because you’re both hot asf lets be real

he’s not uncomfortable whenever people gawk at you in public— i mean, you two get stares on the regular. and how could they not stare at you? you’re very attractive, and he’s glad that people recognize that

but he’ll get protective if they’ll try to be a threat to your loving relationship with him, he won’t be afraid to be blunt

regarding the comments on each pinterest post— he hates it when people say things out of the line

always tries to hide them from you so you don’t feel bothered by them, but if you knew about them— he’ll be sad :,(

but he’ll end up mass reporting those nasty comments— and they always get taken down, because of the shouto todoroki luck

in short? man’s whipped, and the both of you guys are SO attractive together— what more if people knew about the om chemistry?

really— you being pinterest famous was just a nice plus, he fell in love with you for you

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[xpeachesncream]

fiend | one shot

f i e n d ;

a person who wants something really bad, and keeps coming back for more.

because that's exactly what you are with your boss who dicks you down properly, time and time again.

pairing: assistant!reader x ceo!yg

genre: ceo au | smut

words: 2.7k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, bondage, unprotected rough sex that makes you cry, multiple orgasms, breast play, fingering, oral (m. & f. receiving), pussy smacking, ass smacking, dirty talking, doggy style, choking, i think that’s it? 

note: uh, definitely filthiest smut i’ve ever written by far.. i’m sorry lmao i’m trying to experiment with smut and yoongi is the one i’ve decided to experiment with. again, pls excuse any errors. enjoy!

Your eyes drifted down the hallway, quickly making eye contact with your boss before you turned the corner. Soon after, you heard his foot steps following behind you, his fingers grazing the buttons of his blazer as he unbuttoned them and quickly loosened the tie around his neck as he continued to follow your path.

You bit your lip as you took one last look behind you, seeing him coming for you, the lust seeping through his skin. Apparent in his eyes. In his walk. The way he licked his bottom lip.

You turned the knob to a room, not knowing who's it was but you didn't give a single fuck. All these rich folk and their big ass homes, there was no way any of them truly and actually cared about each and every single room in the house. Before you could fully shut the door, your boss slips himself in, silently shutting it close for you and locking it.

"Running away from me?" Yoongi asks in your ear, his breath grazing your neck.

"There's no fun if I don't, right?" You slightly cock your head to the side, a smirk slowly growing at the corner of your lips. Suddenly, you feel the cold material from his tie wrap around your wrists.

"Hmm." He hums. "Now that I've got you though, you're not going anywhere." He says lowly, holding the tie tightly as he bends you forward onto the side of the drawer against the wall. He finishes tying his tie around your wrist, your breathing slightly hitching when he tightens it. You feel him lift the back of your dress up, your thong exposing your ass cheeks and your folds almost swallowing the material with how bent you are at the moment.

How you got here? You didn't know, but you also didn't care. Min Yoongi was one of the youngest thriving CEOs to exist and out of all applicants, he had chosen your innocent ass as his assistant. You literally had just graduated not too long ago, finding an ad for the position online as you nonchalantly surfed the web and did your rounds of poking for entry-level positions. It didn't contain many requirements, which sparked your interest. But you figured you'd never land the job having interviewed amongst other women and men who had been executive assistants previously for months, even years.

Little did you know that you'd star in your own Fifty Shades of Grey movie, and honestly, all this shit was worth it to you. You didn't care about the dirty ass looks the rest of the staff would give you. You didn't care about the shit talking they'd do. You were never one to worry about little things like that; You did you and you carried your own shit. You knew the women were jealous, and you knew they wanted to be you.

Why would you be mad about that?

It ultimately became Yoongi's weakness. You just had it like that.

You'd watch as they'd take your job and prepare Yoongi's coffee in the morning, hoping to bat an eyelash and shower him in compliments. You sat at your desk smirking to yourself at how hard they tried. Sometimes Yoongi would acknowledge it, most of the time - he didn't. Because he was fixated on you and you had yet to learn that.

He wasn't one to build relationships with his staff, he made sure to keep his personal life separate from his career. He didn't talk much in the beginning, having random people train you before he began to step in and show you the ropes himself. He'd come off cold at first, barely showing any expressions. Barely acknowledging you by name, even. But as time went on, you were able to exceed his expectations, doing things before he'd even ask and you found him slowly unraveling around you. He'd tell you goodmorning as soon as he'd catch sight of you at your desk. He'd ask how your day was. He'd ask for your opinion on certain things. He'd ask for you to fully handle his schedule because he loved the way you treated him so delicately, moving appointments around just so he'd have time to breathe and eat. Then, you'd catch his smile. His laugh. How he'd shower you in compliments, talking about how nice you looked that day. He'd leave you notes on your desk, thanking you for your hard work.

If you weren't mistaken, you had felt a small crush developing for your boss. But, you knew you had to keep it professional. That is - until Min Yoongi had caught on and acted on it. He stood behind you as he looked over your shoulder at the computer screen. He had one hand planted on your desk, while the other rested on the top of your chair. You looked up at him from your seat, his eyes locked onto yours. He edged his face closer to yours, locking your lips with his. You couldn't help but gasp as you quickly pulled away, pushing yourself off after reality had settled in. But he had grabbed your wrist ever so gently, shaking his head as he told you to stop holding back.  Something so innocent had turned lustful, full of desire and passion. You gave in and allowed him to get a taste of all of you. Once you were in, there was no going back. He fucked you so good that you could barely walk, fucking you in all places you could imagine - his office, his car, his home, his kitchen, balcony, now this party that was flooded with such highly important people. All you wanted was him, all you craved for was him; Just as he had craved for you every second of his day.

That's why your ass was bent over on someone's expensive ass black dresser, Yoongi's tie tied tightly around your wrists as he swipes his fingers down his tongue before giving your pussy a good smack. You let out a small whimper as he pulls your panties down and throws them aside, his tongue licking a stripe in between your folds.

"You gonna be a good girl for me?"

"Yes." You whimper once again when you feel him spread your cheeks to take full advantage of the position you were in. You feel his tongue gently probe your entrance before you hear him suck you dry, a slight chuckle releasing from his lips as he pulls away and starts to insert two fingers to stretch you out. His long fingers start slowly, Yoongi full out enjoying the sound of your wetness every time he pulls in and out. He curves his digits upwards, causing you to twitch on the drawer from how deep he's tickling your core.

"Ohhhhh, Yoongi, please." You mewl. Your hands are slightly getting tired from being held behind you, but at the same time, you're so fucking turned on at how rough he's handling you - like he had been wanting you all night. Which, he has. He couldn't believe the audacity you had to show up to this party in that tightly fitted dress, hugging you in all the right places. You caught on quick, teasing him throughout the night by grazing your hand against his, brushing your fingers across his manhood area ever so gently in passing, whispering how good he looked in his suit.

"Stay still. You said you'd be good." He says, quickening his pace while he held the tie down to keep your hands in place. The faster he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the quicker you feel yourself coming undone.

"Hohhhh, fuck." You moan. "I'm close."

"Gonna cum around these fingers, baby?" You want to hold on so badly, but you can't. And you don't. You find yourself trembling on top of the dresser, Yoongi licking up your mess and completely disregarding how overly sensitive you are right now. The pain turns into more pleasure for you, and you want nothing more than to feel him inside of you.

But he has other plans first. He wastes no time bringing you back up to standing position by holding his tie, aggressively getting you on your knees in the middle of the room.

"You better make good use of those hands when I let them go." He says, undoing his tie. You slightly wince at how sore you are from keeping your hands in one position for some time, but you brush it off as Yoongi stands in front of you, ready for you to unzip his pants and let his aching dick free. He loves watching you suck him on your knees, the sight of your pretty face and his dick going in and out of your mouth being something out of this world for him. He ain't ever gotten head so good until he's gotten it from you.

And so you're craving to make him feel just as good as he made you feel, gripping his hardened member when it springs free from his boxers, your tongue following its length like a guide. His dick wasn't the thickest, but it was long and that shit never failed to make you cum time and time again. That shit never failed to tear you up. You suck his tip, your tongue swirling around the pooling pre-cum before you pull back with a pop. You watch from below as he tilts his head back in pleasure, small moans leaving his mouth as his hands are tangled in your hair. He begins to lower you onto his dick, steadying the pace before he wants you to start taking him all the way. His tip tickles the back of your throat while he keeps you there for a good minute, tears streaming from your eyes as you choke on him, saliva trailing from your mouth and his tip once he tugs your head back.

"So fucking pretty when you take my shit like that." He smirks before biting his bottom lip, his grey hair lightly brushing past his eyes. You swallow him whole a couple of times more, more saliva trailing down his dick and between your mouth and his tip before he's satisfied with how fucked out you look simply from taking his dick down your throat. "What do you want me to do to you, pretty girl?"

"Fuck me, please." You whine. He grips your chin and stands you up to eye level.

"You want me?" You nod. "Tell me how much you want me, babygirl."

"I want you so bad, Yoongi. Please. Wanna feel you."

He smirks. "Gonna make you feel good, sweetheart. Don't worry about that." He doesn't hesitate to carry you, albeit he struggles a bit with his pants below his ankles, allowing you to wrap your legs around his torso before dropping you onto the bed. You wiggle yourself up a little higher before he crawls on top, his lips pressing against yours. The kiss quickly becomes messy, your hands getting tangled in his hair as his tongue sensually caressed your mouth. You moan into it while his hands work to bring the bottom portion of your dress above your waist. He pulls down your top portion just enough to expose your bare breasts, his hands giving them a good squeeze before taking your nipples in between his fingers and giving them a good pinch. You let out a small cry as he pulls away from the kiss, your nipples feeling incredibly hard and sensitive from his touch. He brings his mouth down to one nipple at a time, toying with it for a second by using his tongue to flick the bud around before sucking.

"That feels so good." You let out breathily. He lets out a small moan as he sucks on the other before bringing his mouth back up to yours. You wiggle yourself onto him, feeling his tip graze your folds, driving you insane. The heat is pooling in your core, almost unbearable at the fact.

"You want this dick in you now?" He whispers in your ear, nibbling at your earlobe right after. You let out a hiss as you nod, letting out a small whimper as you watch him pump his dick a few times below you. He inserts the tip, your mouth slightly open at how fucking good he feels slowly filling you up. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you grip onto his shirt while he bottoms out, the sound of your wetness bouncing off of the walls while he rolls his hips into you, working inwards and outwards. He keeps your legs open with his hands, making sure your wide enough to feel every inch of him inside of you.

"Fuuuuck, Yoongi." You moan. "Give it to me." He picks up his pace. "Just like that, just like that." You repeatedly whine until you can't cry it out any longer. The pleasure completely takes over your body as you bounce up and down in his grip, his eyes marveling at your titties bouncing around while he fucks you senselessly.

"Always so good to me." He groans. "Taking me in so perfectly. I wish you could see how fucking good you look crying out for me." You were absolutely perfect to him, in every way possible. The music outside is so loud at this point that you're sure no one can hear you yelling his name in this room. Your nails are digging into his clothed arms, his hands now making his way up to your neck to slightly grip onto it while he aggressively hammers into you.

"I'm gonna cum again." You manage to spit out as his hands are barely giving you room to speak. Sooner or later, one to two more powerful thrusts in, you feel yourself spiraling out of control, groaning as you tremble underneath him. He bites onto his bottom lip as he slows his pace to help you ride out your high and places a sloppy kiss onto your lips.

"Turn around for me." He says, you quickly obeying silently. He has you on your fours towards the edge of the bed, his tie now wrapped around your mouth and in between your teeth. He tugs on it ever so slightly to the side, getting a good look at your face before planting a kiss on on your neck. He quickly swipes his hand down your pussy, knowing full well how sensitive you still are. You twitch at the sensation, Yoongi letting out a small chuckle at how sexy and vulnerable you are right now. He slips himself in, letting out a moan at how wet you are around him. He holds onto his tie as he fucks into you quick, tears streaming down your cheeks. You let out a loud moan, but it's muffled through the material of his tie, enjoying every bit of the pain and pleasure your boss is bringing you at this moment. He grips your ass with his free hand before giving it a good smack, groans leaving his mouth as he pumps in and out.

"Who's pussy is this?" He leans forward and asks in your ear.

"Yours." You mumble.

"Who's?"

"Youuuuurs." You cry.

"Shit, babygirl. I'm gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so good." He leans back, his high coming to a close. Your eyes shut close as you feel your walls constrict around him at the same time he lets himself go, his cum coating your walls while you coat his dick. He lets the tie go gently, allowing you to breathe through your high, huffing and puffing to regulate yourself. You let out a small gasp feeling him remove himself from inside of you, cum leaking out of your throbbing pussy. You can barely fix your position, your legs trembling and weak from how fucked out you are. Yoongi takes a napkin from the nearby dresser, wiping you clean before getting himself together and helping you up.

"So much for enjoying the party like you wanted." You tease as you fix yourself in the full length mirror near the bed. Yoongi stands behind you, adjusting his blazer and shirt and tossing his tie aside since it had been drenched from your saliva.

"Didn't have to be such a tease."

"I thought that's what you wanted." He comes from behind you, lowering himself to your ear.

"You know I always want you though, so there's no need to be one. You ever think about that?" He says lowly near your ear as he lifts up your long lost panties with his finger.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Tech x Reader: Pause - PART 2

(Set during episode 3 “Replacements”)

SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 3 below if you haven’t seen it yet!

Note:  I had multiple people ask for a second part to the first one, and I had so much fun writing it, so here we are!  This had me swooning at 8 in the morning while I was writing up the end!  I really hope you enjoy!

Link to Part 1 (set during episode 2)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

   “I should’ve gone with them,” you muttered to yourself, staring through the viewport of the ship into the darkness outside.  “Omega is so young.  She really shouldn’t have gone in the first place.”

   “Hunter will look after her,” Tech spoke up as he welded a few parts of the ship together at one of the main consoles.  He didn’t take his eyes off the project in front of him, only spoke over his shoulder.  It gave you room to admire his profile for a moment while he so diligently worked.

   “You’re right,” you sighed.  “But still, I can’t help but worry.  Please give me something to do so I don’t drive myself crazy thinking about it.”

   Echo chuckled as he worked on a separate console on the other side of the cockpit, nodding you over.  “You could hold these sheets of metal while I screw them back into place.”

   “Yes, sir.”  You clambered past the assorted parts and pieces that littered the space, catching your foot on a particularly heavy chunk of metal.  It made your eyes water.  “Okay, ow.”

   “Are you alright?” Tech actually paused his endeavor and pulled his helmet up to glance your way.

   “Yeah,” you replied, shaking off the pain.  “I just tripped on this thing.”

   “Be careful.”

   “No worries, I’ll try not to break any of the parts.”

   “The parts weren’t what I was concerned about.”

   Your gaze found his for a split second before he lowered his helmet back on and resumed welding.  Rather than dwell on it too much, you turned your attention back to Echo and took hold of the metal sheets so he could screw them into place properly.  Wrecker was causing a bit of a commotion in the back of the ship, most likely putting together the room he announced he was going to make for Omega after she and Hunter had departed.  You were touched by his gesture and listened with amusement to the sounds of stuff being dragged around and dropped back there.

   “Hey, _________!” he called.  “Could you give me a hand with something?”

   You exchanged looks with Echo who had finished replacing all the sheet metal on his side by now.  He gave you a nod, letting you know he could spare you for a minute.  

   “I’ll be right back,” you told him.  You headed down the hall to see Wrecker holding a strand of lights in his hand with the other hand ghosting over the spot where he hit his head during the crash.  “What’s up?”

   “Can you hold this end of the strand?  While I hand the other side?”

   You smiled.  “Sure.  You know,  this is really nice of you.  Omega is going to love it.”

   “You think?”

   “I know it, Wrecker.”  The two of you exchanged grins before setting to work on hanging the lights.  Wrecker paused when he reached the end of the strand, and you were struggling to hold it up so high.  “Uh, what’s the hold up?”

   “I took too many hooks,” he said.

   “Oh,” you nodded.  “Well here, you hang the last part, and I’ll put the rest of the hooks away.”  He dropped the set of hooks into your palm, and you made your way to a compartment where the squad kept miscellaneous supplies.  On your way through the doorway, you encountered a figure on its way out.

   The first thing you registered was Tech’s eyes widening slightly in surprise as the two of you ended up squeezed in the small space together, nearly chest-to-chest.

   “Sorry, ________.”

   “No, it’s my bad,” you insisted.  “I didn’t look before going in.”

   “Well, I didn’t look before going out.”

   Meanwhile, neither of you had moved from the spot.  His close proximity sent your heart racing as he gazed down at you, close enough that you could lean in a few inches and kiss him if you wanted- which you did want, of course.  Did he?

   “Everything going okay up there?” you asked.

   “Yes, most of the individual parts repairs are complete.  “All we need now is that capacitor.”

   “That’s good news.”  Your face fell a little.  “I just hope Hunter and Omega both make it back alright.”

   His gaze was so sincere as he responded, “they will." The hand he had just rested on your shoulder twitched as he hesitantly pulled it away.  “We, ah, never had a chance to talk on Saleucami.”

   You nodded.  “Yeah, things have been a little crazy.  What was it you wanted to talk about?”

   “I recall we both had something to speak to the other about.”

   You suddenly felt bashful and tore your eyes from his and let them fall to the floor.  “Well, you first.”

   He went quiet for a moment.  “Alright.”  He inhaled deeply as if gathering the nerve.  “I wanted to speak with you because over the course of our missions together, I’ve developed feelings-”

   “_________!”  Wrecker called, his thudding footsteps nearing the closet.

   Tech clamped his mouth shut while you replied before he reached the closet.

   “Yeah, Wrecker?”

   “Omega’s room is done!  Wanna’ see?”

   “Oh, awesome!  I’ll be there in a minute!”

   His footsteps faded down the hall again, and you glanced back at Tech with a chuckle.  He adjusted his goggles, a small smile on his face at the amusement of the situation.  You were convinced that he was about to say what you really, really wanted to hear. 

   “Anyway, as I was saying,” he continued.  “I’ve developed feelings for you, _________.  It’s never happened before, and I only know from what I’ve read that the proper thing for me to do would be to tell you and to ask to court you, if you wish to do so.”

   Your heart was fluttering, eyes were watering, and the smile on your face grew even wider.  “Tech, I feel the same way,” you told him.  “I know this situation we’re in as a squad isn’t conventional, but I do have feelings for you and would love to ‘court.’”  The last word broke off into another giddy laugh.  You only had to move forward a few inches to wrap your arms around his form in an embrace.  It wasn’t super comfortable with his armor on, but it felt right when you pressed your cheek against his chest plate, and you felt his chin on your head.  The two of you stood there squeezing each other for a minute or so and listened to the quiet breaths that filled the air.  Then, you pulled your head away to angle your face up towards his, and he accepted the invitation.  His eyes fell closed as he kissed your lips.  It was warm and a sort of relief washed over you as your hands traveled up to grip his shoulders while his pulled you in tighter.  He was still a little rigid at first, but as soon your lips moved against his he responded.

   Your back fell against the cool metal wall as his lips chased yours.

   “Ah, sorry,” he murmured.  You bit your lip and smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

   “It’s okay,” you assured him.  “Didn’t bother me.”

   The moment was beautifully awkward as he pulled away to stare at you like he had many times before.  The pause went on longer than you expected, so you finally spoke again in a humorous tone.

   “What?”

   “I’m just admiring your beauty,” he said, reaching up to run his thumb down from your forehead to the tip of your nose, a small gesture that made you smile again.  “So many times I wanted to have this moment.”

   “Well, now it’s here.”  Then, your brows went up.  “Oh, I need to go see Omega’s room.  I told Wrecker I’d be there in a minute.”

   Tech was hesitant to let you go, but he seemed to understand.  He most likely also wasn’t up for a situation where Wrecker would come looking for you and see the two of you in the supply closet.  Even if he didn’t see any lips making contact, the jokes would go on and on for the rest of the time on this moon.  Neither of you were entirely up for it.  You’d let the rest of the squad know about your new relationship when the time was right, though Hunter might pick up on it before then.  He was pretty observant.

   “I’ll go with you,” Tech said.  “Wrecker will want me to see the room anyway.”

   “Okay,” you nodded.

   “Ladies first.”  He gestured to the small doorway, and you grinned.  You took his hand and headed out the door first, him following behind.  Neither of you let go until you neared the room where Wrecker was showing Echo already.

   “There you two are!” Wrecker said.  “Check it out!”  He gestured to the room past the lifted curtain to show the space he had made for Omega, and you gushed at how great it looked while he stood there proudly.  The lights shone in your eyes and reflected off Tech’s goggles beside you.

   There had been some rough times behind you, and there were sure to be more ahead.  The galaxy was in disarray while this new Empire claimed it was order.  The squad had lost one member.  Everyone missed Crosshair, but there was hope of bringing him back.

   This moment felt like another pause from all of that.  It was a day of new beginnings.

[reidingmelodies]

Deja Vu

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer’s new relationship seems a little too familiar Word Count: 3.2k Includes: mentions and consumption of food and alcohol, breakups, fluffy flashbacks Category: Angst/Hurt A/N: This is for @wifenumberfour’s 700 follower celebration- Congratulations Luna!! I’m sorry this is late ♥️ A/N 2: Special shout out to @ssa-m-187 for helping me get out of my head and brainstorming with me on a whim 💕 ily and if it wasn’t for you this would most definitely still be half written lol

You know you shouldn’t do it.

You know looking up her profile will cause more harm than good, that the bitter taste on your tongue will leave permanent residue when you see the pictures with your own eyes.

You know, but that doesn’t stop you.

It’s been an hour since Penelope left, an hour since the two of you shared a bottle of wine and she let it slip that Spencer was seeing someone else.  That said someone looked just like you and for a minute she thought you were back together when the picture popped up on her feed.

You hate yourself for thinking it, but you wish that was the reality.

But instead, you’re here. Sitting on the couch and tapping your fingers against the back of your phone.  Pros and cons running through your brain every time your fingers dare to unlock it.

Pro: You’ll finally have the peace of mind you’ve been looking for.

Con: Yeah for two seconds, you’re practically opening the door for him to permanently move into your brain.

Phone unlocked, you open the app, hesitating for one final moment as another internal struggle wages war in your thoughts.

Pro: You’ll get to see his face.

Con: You’ll get to see his face… with someone that isn’t you.

Shaking your head, you type her name into the search bar and click on the first profile that pops up.

And there, clear as day, was Spencer.

Your Spencer, with his arms wrapped around another woman, the smile on his face as bright as it was the day you met him.

***

Four Years Earlier:

You waited outside Penelope’s door, your hand shaking from the nerves coursing through your veins as you waited for her to let you in.

It had taken months of convincing on her end, months of her sending you texts ranging from ‘Remember that guy Spencer from my job?  He read that book you told me about last night!! Maybe you guys can meet up to talk about it?’ to ‘Spencer’s wearing a purple shirt today- you would LOVE IT!!! Too bad you won’t meet him ):’

And finally, you were here. Outside your best friend’s door with a mere panel of wood separating you from the man she proclaimed was ‘the love of your life’.

Meeting him was a rush. For months, you had heard time and time again that the Dr. Spencer Reid doesn’t shake hands.  You had recited it in your brain for hours before meeting him, all too focused on getting this right- for Penelope’s sake, you convinced yourself.

But then you saw his face up close- golden brown eyes met yours, and all semblance of thought flew out the window.

And thus, mistake number one was made.

You held out your hand.

To this day, you still couldn’t describe what happened accurately.  You were sputtering apologies, rambling on and on about how Penelope had warned you but you still messed up, Spencer was reciting facts about how it was safer to kiss than shake hands, Derek was physically face palming himself in the corner of the room, and Penelope was watching on in amusement.

And then, as though your mouth developed a mind of its own, you were yelling over the noise that maybe the two of you could revisit his offer to kiss at the end of the night.

It was at that moment you realized exactly what people meant when they said the room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Hello there, mistake number two.  

You swore the world stopped on its axis as you willed yourself to be absolutely anywhere but there, but then the unthinkable happened- Spencer nodded, his face sporting the brightest smile you had ever seen.

And suddenly life was restored to the room, a portrait turned into a film once more.  Penelope was laughing, Derek was smiling, and you and Spencer?

Your eyes were locked as though you were each other’s sole reason for existing.  

When you look back on that night, you think of how easy it was.  How easy it was to get lost in conversation with him, the topic of choice ranging between the number of miles between the earth and the moon (238,900) to the proper way to eat an Oreo- center first or all together at once (this one was still up for debate).  How easy it was to give him your number at the end of the night, to slip your hand in his the upcoming afternoon while you walked through the park.

How easy it was to fall for him.

Turns out, Penelope was right.  Spencer was the love of your life.

But apparently you weren’t his.

***

Present Day:

Fingers shaking, you scrolled to the next post gracing her profile.  And for the second time that night, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

There he was again- in your spot.

The spot you introduced him to, the spot you promised each other forever in.

The spot you had been avoiding for four and a half months now.

Apparently, Spencer didn’t have that problem.

His eyes were wide with wonder as he held the menu in the first photo, and you couldn’t help but scoff.  You know damn well he has that menu memorized front to back.

But the second photo.

The second photo is the one that caused your heart to physically skip a beat.

Because not only was he in your spot, but he was in your booth, eating your favorite sundae.

Unbelievable.

***

Two Years Earlier:

“Babe, I know you’re tired, but I promise you’re gonna like this surprise” you nudged Spencer’s arm for what felt like the thousandth time, groaning in annoyance when he shifted the pillow over his face once more.  It was 3 PM on a Sunday, and you were desperate to get out and enjoy the rest of the day, but Spencer was all too ready to sleep until dawn.

That’s what he gets for getting a little too invested in this year’s U.S. Chess Championship coverage at midnight.

“Alright,” you switched tactics, sighing dramatically as you rose from the bed and made your way to the shoe rack, “I’ll just see if Penelope wants to go with me to try a donut sundae”.

And just like that, the pillow slowly inched from his face, one eye peeking open to look in your direction.  “A donut sundae?”

Got him.

“Yup!  My friend from work told me about this really cool place yesterday, but you don’t have to come if you’re tired, babe,” you finished sliding your shoes on, and like clockwork, Spencer rose and followed suit.

“You knew I’d get up for that, didn’t you?” he asked, squeezing your hand as you made your way to the car.

“Mm that’s for me to know and you to never find out, Dr. Reid,” you turned until your toes faced each other, beckoning his lips towards yours. The kiss was filled to the brim with tenderness, unspoken words of love and devotion dancing on your tongues as you got lost in each other.

And in that moment, you found yourself thanking the stars above for blessing you with Spencer Reid, making a silent promise to the universe that you’d never let go of him, so long as he’d have you.

Apparently, he’d have you a year and seven months longer to the day, but you didn’t know that back then.

Back then, you only knew that his eyes sparkled with all the love in the world whenever he looked at you.  

The entire time you were in line for a sundae excitement was radiating off your features, your eyes scanned the menu as though it held the secrets to the universe and your hands rotated from swinging with his to taking photos of the two of you with your phone.

And through it all, Spencer only had eyes for you.

He didn’t even try to hide it, letting his eyes follow your every movement as you teasingly stuck your tongue out in response.  

“I love you,” he shrugged, “why not let everyone know?”

You ate your sundaes over not-so-stolen glances and whispered words, occasionally lifting your spoon to give him a bite of yours and vice versa.

On one ill-timed bite Spencer’s spoon hit the corner of your lips and left a spattering of whipped cream in its wake.  But before you even had the chance to lift a napkin, his lips were on yours, kissing away the mess as your eyes fluttered shut.

He pulled away in a rush, a crimson blush gracing his cheeks as he brought a hand to the back of his neck.  “You know”, he murmured, “I’m gonna marry you one day, Y/N”.  

“I’ll meet you at the altar, Spencer Reid,” his face lit up with the glimmer of a thousand sparklers, the smiles on both your faces a silent promise of forever.

That night, you went to sleep dreaming of wedding rings and happily ever after’s.

How could something so right go wrong so fast?

***

Present Day:

With each passing second you know you should stop looking.  But you’re already in too deep.  Each band-aid you had cautiously placed over your heart in the months since the break-up was tearing loose, revealing a Spencer shaped hole you had tried so hard to cover up.

Easier said than done.

You clicked the next post, a video this time, and with it your heart skipped a beat, sadness slowly making way for anger.

Spencer was in the tie you bought him for his birthday a few years back and Uptown Girl by Billy Joel was playing in the background, his arms wrapped around her while they spun in circles.  She was looking at him like he was the brightest star in the sky, and Spencer’s eyes were focused on the camera, a wide grin on his face.

You could almost stomach the video, but the caption?

Well, the caption alone was reason for your head to spin: ‘I have never wanted anything more than this’ -Spencer, five minutes ago’.

Funny.  That’s the same thing he told you.

***

One Year Ago:

For the first time in weeks, you and Spencer had a rare weekend to yourselves. No work, no plans with friends, no last-minute visits to see family- just you, Spencer, and a date with your couch.

And considering the frost that settled over your apartment recently, it was well needed.

Once, your apartment was your oasis.  It was where you and Spencer could get lost in one another’s eyes, not a care in the world for anything but each other.  Days were filled with Doctor Who marathons; nights were filled with shower karaoke sessions.

It was bliss.

But lately, cracks were beginning to form in the perfect picture you had painted together.  Case after case kept popping up across the country, and suddenly seeing your boyfriend had turned into a monthly treat rather than a weekly luxury.

You were used to him being away, but this?  This was testing your patience.

Nowadays, seeing him mainly came in the form of pictures.

The team had sensed the tension, and Derek, ever the number two cheerleader of your relationship (first place would always have Penelope’s name written in gold), had taken to sending you photos of Spencer while they were gone.  

Soon enough, your photo album consisted of Spencer clutching your jacket to his chest while he slept, be it in the hotel or on the jet.

Every time you got one of those photos, you’d clutch his jacket that much closer to you.

But this weekend was the first step to fixing the distance, you were sure of it.

Suddenly, you were back to the Spencer and Y/N show: mornings were spent dancing to Billy Joel in the kitchen, afternoons were spent continuing your long-forgotten Doctor Who marathon, and nights were filled with getting lost in each other and competing for first place in your beloved shower karaoke sessions.

“I’ve never wanted anything more than this,” he whispered as you laid in bed that night.

It was like the good days were in reach again.

But then, the following weekend came.

And Spencer was gone on another case, this one anticipated to last six days with another lined up right after it.

You didn’t know how much more you could take.

Once, you had told Spencer that you thought of him every time you listened to Piano Man by Billy Joel.  You weren’t sure why, but every time you missed him it was a go to simply for the feelings of nostalgia it stirred within you.

It was like your brain was ahead of your heart in knowing that all of this, all the love, stolen kisses, and tales of happily ever after would be nothing but a memory one day.

***

Present Day:

You were done.  Fully, wholeheartedly done, ready to throw in the towel and go to bed, done.

But one last refresh wouldn’t hurt.

And just like that, a final picture of Spencer graced your screen.

The jury was still out on whether that was a blessing or a curse.

It was posted a mere 23 minutes ago; Spencer was lounging on the couch staring straight ahead with a slight smile, and her feet were resting in his lap.

What really caught your eye though, was the shirt he was wearing.

How could it not?  You were wearing the very same one.

You groaned in frustration, throwing your phone onto the couch and, unbeknownst to you, setting off a chain reaction when it landed at just the right angle and clicked the like button.

But alas, you had no clue, and your phone was left on the couch as you went straight into your bedroom to change your shirt.

Or stare at the closet blankly for a few minutes- the jury was still out on that one, too.

***

Five Months Ago:

Spencer took some time off.  He told Hotch he needed a few days to clear his head, but really, he needed a few days to fix his heart.

You both needed this.  When you saw Spencer, you saw the love of your life.  You saw the man you wanted to grow old with, the man who made your entire world slow with a smile.

So, you took off for a weekend getaway.  A cabin fit for two, the business of the world left at the door in favor of the warmth of each other.

When you ventured into town, you’d come back with little knickknacks from the market, your favorites consisting of ridiculous matching ‘honeymooner’ shirts and new plates for your kitchen.

It was silly but picking them out together was all the proof you needed that everything would be okay.

That one day, you and Spencer really would get married, that you’d spend your nights eating dinner on plates from a farmer’s market in Virginia, wearing matching tee shirts and looking as in love as you did the day you met him.

The love you had for him was beaming as bright as ever.

But not even all the love in the world could fix the distance that had settled between the two of you.

You knew it was the last thing you should have mentioned on a romantic getaway, but you couldn’t keep it in anymore.

It was getting harder and harder.  Not only were the cases getting longer, but they were getting scarier.

You had always known there was a chance he wouldn’t come home from a case.

But, with each passing day it was becoming more and more of a reality.

Because not only were the cases getting harder, but your boyfriend was becoming reckless: a terrifying combination.

So, you told him to be more careful.

And as much as he wanted to fix this, he wasn’t willing to admit to his wrongdoings.

One thing turned into another, and before you knew it words of love had turned into words of shame- words meant to burn, words meant to tear each other down when all you wanted to do was build each other up.

But what you wanted wasn’t enough anymore.

And just like that, your future was set in stone.

He always promised you that nothing would come above you.

A promise that was easier to say than keep, so it seems.

***

Present Day, Spencer’s Apartment:

“Spencer, do you know anyone named Y/N?” He swore his heart stopped when her question rang out in the otherwise silent room.

“No, I don’t,” his voice came out in a murmur, his brain spinning a hundred miles an hour while his chest ached with the strength of a thousand bolts.

“Someone named Y/N just liked my picture, but I don’t even know her,” she continued on like he hadn’t spoken, “isn’t that weird?”

“So weird,” his affirmation was all she wanted, apparently, and with it came the return of the silence he so desperately craved.

At least when it was silent he could pretend it was you sitting next to him instead.

It was never supposed to get this far.

When he ran into her at the coffee shop and she asked him to sit with her, he said yes to drown out the noise in his head.

Day in and day out he lived in a sea of regrets, and all he wanted to do was apologize for everything.  To let you know that you were and will forever be the most important person in his life, to prove it by giving you the engagement ring he’d been carrying in his satchel for a year and a half.

But then coffee turned into a movie date and he never got the chance.

She wasn’t supposed to be something.  She was supposed to be a distraction.

But somewhere along the way he got it mixed up.

Now, the person who was supposed to serve as his distraction had become his outlet to feel something again, a means of chasing even a sliver of the happiness he felt with you by his side.

And with false happiness came a relationship founded in lies.

Words he said to her were eerily similar to words he said to you, but it was all he could do to mirror your love.

And then he realized he should at least try and move on.

So, he did.

He took her to the same places, went so far as sitting in the same booth or listening to the same music, to try and replace his best memories with even better ones.  If he was able to find love and happiness in these moments the first time around, surely, he’d be able to the second time, too.

But nothing compared to his time with you.

It was a fact he resigned himself to live with, all too comfortable mentally living in the past while physically moving forward.

He wondered where you were- if you were happy.

He hoped at the very least you were happier than him.  

After all, he was the one stuck living in a constant state of déjà vu.

***

Thank you so much for reading! If you’d like to join my taglist you can do so here! 💕

Permanent Taglist: @calm-and-doctor @reidyoulikeabook @shadyladyperfection @homoose @rigatonireid @singularityjc @rem-ariiana @reblogsoffanfics @sapphic-prentiss @wheelsup @drspencerreidd @meganskane @goldentournesol @ssavanessa22 @alltooreid @miahelen @takeyourleap-of-faith @kuolonsyoja @spencerreid-187 @wifenumberfour @ssa-m-187

Spencer Taglist:  @averyhotchner @muffin-cup @dayrin085 @spencerreid9 @awritingtree @randomficsandshit @lovereid @stylesgubler @onyourfingertips @winifrede @maddievevo @graciereid @tvandfanfic  @csloreen