Random Cute Things They Do.

what if;;; travelling performer / circus au,,, where xiao and you are trapeze partners where you're never scared to flip in the air because you know he'll always catch you, or kazuha the man who swallows fire and you're always worried he's going to end up totally burned but he just winks at you and says the only thing hot enough to burn him is you, or venti the clown cycling around on a stupid unicycle and juggling and somehow always managing to cheer you up even when youre sad, or even diluc the ringmaster dressed in a maroon coat and top hat who's able to capture the hearts of the audience by weaving magic with just a few words and maybe your heart's been stolen along the way too

𝕄𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕦𝕡 𝕒𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕟 𝕒𝕣𝕘𝕦𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 ℝ𝕚𝕕𝕕𝕝𝕖, 𝕃𝕖𝕠𝕟𝕒, 𝔸𝕫𝕦𝕝, 𝕍𝕚𝕝 & 𝕀𝕕𝕚𝕒

Pt.1 - having an argument with them

The reason why I took so long to post this, was partially because it was my intention to make the readers cool off a little bit, instead of immediately posting the two parts one after another so it would feel a little more like an actual argument. But then came some unexpected circumstances and the post was delayed for longer than I'd like ://

Tagging: @im-better-than-your-newborn @wubbabubbaboo @thelegendaryfluffypotato13 @oromaryzm @cheeriochat @editeed @honeyychoba @celestialbluebed @sakurarabbit18

@sno-leopards @joinmeforadoublesuicide you guys didn't ask for the tag, but you sounded so excited- Let me know if you wish it to be removed!

Content warning: WATCH ME BULLY LEONA BECAUSE I CAN it is also incredibly long

𝓡𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮

~The following days were… stormy, to say lightly.

~Both of you suddenly developed a desire to prove to each other that you’re fine on your own.

~The problem was that you were not fine at all. 

~Riddle suddenly became much harsher on his dorm’s members. Especially when your absence was pointed out. And, well. It was pointed out way more often than he would have even expected. Turns out, everyone was so accustomed to you being by his side – even students he barely interacted with were bothered by your sudden disappearance. 

~After particularly bad tantrums he threw, some students half-seriously began calling him ‘The tyrant Rosehearts’ again. Which fueled his anger even more.

~But that was not the worst part. His fury was one thing, but the pain and loneliness your argument brought him were unbearable. At first, he even dared to think it was even better, because he had a burden off his shoulders. But that was only until an hour later when the reality of the situation finally sunk in.

~Not once, not twice, he caught himself automatically reaching for his phone and opening your contact, beginning to type a message before remembering what happened between you two, deleting it and turning his phone off. In those moments, the loneliness was what struck him the most and he almost ran to you to apologise.

~Despite the despair of his situation, Riddle would actually take his time before approaching you. Not because he doesn’t want to. But because of the sudden rush of insecurities every time he tries to - or even thought about approaching you. 

~Luckily, the Heartslabyul students had eyes and brains (mostly) so they quickly added 2+2 and realised the situation. 

~Obviously, they couldn’t just stand back and watch their dorm leader suffer (and going rampage), so they split into two groups. Plan A was for the first years to persuade you into talking things through with your lover, while the third years were doing the same with Riddle. In case the argument would turn out to be so bad, there would be no hope, they would seek another solution to ease their dorm leader’s anger. 

~It did take some time, but it was easier than they thought. Both groups had meetings to keep each other updated about the progress.

~But of course, something must have gone wrong – due to important call from the principal and other teachers, the teams missed a meeting and failed to inform themselves about the current plans and situation.

~So while Riddle went over to Ramshackle to apologise, you went to the Heartslabyul with the same intention, at the same time. Which resulted in the two of you missing each other. But that was not all! You both also decided to stay at each other’s dorms and wait for each other. But nobody came.

~In the end, tired and annoyed, you went back to your respective dorms, rethinking your willingness to make up. That was until you bumped into each other on your way and spent a good minute staring at each other wide-eyed and connecting the dots.

“...My rose,” Riddle was the first to break the silence. “I understand if you are still mad-”

“No, no, I… I went to your dorm to, well, apologise? But you weren’t there,” you stumbled on your words, unsure what to say, despite going through the plan in your head a dozen times. 

“I, I wish to apologise to you as well! I just wanted to tell you, I understood my mistakes and I am willing to improve and be a better boyfriend- If you still wish to, that is,” the last phrase sounded more like a question.

“Obviously! Look, I know what I said was painful and you only had the best intentions in mind. I was just overwhelmed with how little credit you give me, Riddle.” Your eyes softened. This time, when speaking, your words did not come out in angry shouts, but in delicate whispers. 

Afraid to break the magical atmosphere, and lost in your need for each other, you didn’t even want to say anything else and let your actions speak the unspoken words of promise, as you found yourselves in each other’s arms.

The evening was chilly, but his body was so warm. You basked in that warmth, doing your best to ignore the happy cheers of the two teams hiding in the bushes. You could almost feel your boyfriend’s growing annoyance. Wait, was that why his body felt so- Oh god, deep breaths Riddle. Deep breaths-!

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚

~Oh yes. Our very mature lion king had an argument with his s/o and is about to make it everyone’s problem. Skipping twice as many lessons, attempting to nap the whole day and growling at anyone who dares to walk up to him.

~Because every time he heard footsteps nearing him, he instinctively woke up with hope that you would be the one approaching. Only to see someone else and remember your argument. Then as they’re gone, he would just squeeze his eyes shut and try to ignore the bitter taste on his tongue for hours and hours to no end.

~For a brief second, he even managed to fool himself into convincing himself that he doesn’t need you and you were really just a fling of his. Well, not so fast. All it took was a distant smell of yours, carried through the wind to make him go insane once again. 

~Ruggie at first, did not dwell on the fact, having grown accustomed to his senior’s moody demeanour. Instead, he went to look for you, even going as far as making a trip to your dorm if that meant you’d handle his boss.

~What he certainly didn’t expect, was the “I don’t want to see him. Sorry, Ruggie,” he received after knocking on your door.

~The situation was painfully obvious, but if you weren’t there to take care of his dorm leader, he’d be the one having to do that! And so, the scheming began.

~Questioning Leona was out of question, as well as he didn’t want to scratch at your fresh wounds. Therefore, he opted to ask Grim, Ace and Deuce.

~Separately, they only knew shreds and scraps of what happened, but when put together, they provided a pretty clear picture of the situation. So clear Ruggie almost facepalmed.

~”Really, Leona? They literally told you what was wrong- pushed it into your face and you’re not even trying to improve the situation?” He did not even flinch at the angry growl he received in response. “Come on, everyone sees that you’re unhappy without each other!” 

“Be quiet.” 

~But the hyena was unwilling to back down, when he was finally getting to the lion.

~And of course, he had his way.

“I can’t fucking believe I’m doing this,” Ruggie could swear, that Leona was purposefully dragging his feet to stall for time.

“You want to get back with them or not?”

“Tsh, they should be the one coming to me to apologise. They were the one who started the mess.”

“You gave them the reason to, in the first place,” even though he was comfortable walking on soft grass, he could feel his life hanging on a thread.

“Whose side are you on?!” A poor attempt to mask the anticipation with annoyance was made.

“Besides, if they did, would you accept their apology and go back to dating them?”

The answer hung in the air unsaid, but obvious nonetheless.

Of course he would.

The trip to the Ramshackle dorm went quicker than ever. At the same time, he wanted the whole ordeal to last a million years so he could die in peace before even coming close to confronting you and just get things over with so he could hug you again.

So to say that he was agitated  when he spotted two brave idiots blocking the entrance to your dorm would be a misunderstanding.

“Why are you here outside, guys? Is y/n feeling better?” Ruggie eyed Ace and Deuce with a questioning gaze.

“Good afternoon Ruggie-seinpai. Y/n is resting at the moment. Do you have any business towards them?”

“Well, not exactly me, but him.” He pointed at his annoyed companion.

“Yeah, I gotta talk to ‘em so be good little herbivores and let me pass.” Leona could literally feel his patience growing thinner and thinner with each passing second.

“I’m afraid we cannot do that.”

“No one wants you here so just leave and don’t come back, yeah?

The atmosphere suddenly became tense.

“The hell was that?!”  

Ruggie quickly got between his dorm leader and the two first years.

“Hol’ up! Why won’t you guys let him in? Did y/n specifically say they don’t want to see him?”

That made the two brave idiots visibly falter.

“Well… Not exactly but-!”

“If they didn’t then let me settle things with my s/o. You have no right to stop me anyway.”

And so, the battle began.

Your soldiers fought to their last breath, but failed miserably against the second prince of the Afterglow Savannah. Meanwhile his servant took a nap.

And as your ex-boyfriend was to strike the final blow to the fallen soldiers, when a shoe flew through your front yard and hit him right in the side of his head. 

Now he was so irked, he completely forgot the ADeuce and instead, his eyes went searching for the boomed soul he was about to tear into pieces - half expecting Grim - when instead, his eyes locked with yours. 

It was rather tough to read your expression in the slowly fading afternoon light, while you were standing a few good metres above him. Well, sure as hell you weren’t pleased judging by the growing dump on his head and the other shoe you were swinging carelessly on your fingers. 

A shiver ran down his spine for a brief second before he shook it off. But you spoke before he could even open his mouth.

“What could possibly be so urgent that his majesty dragged his ass all this way and graced my humble place with his presence? You snarked ironically. 

“Oi! Watch your mouth after I went all the way here to apologise!”

“You don’t look apologetic.”

“Get down here then so I can show you how damn apologetic I am!”

“Why would I? You don’t even have flowers.”

“Say what now?!” Your glare was able to silence him from further complaints even from your window.

“Last time I checked, a man apologising should dress up, come with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a personally chosen gift for his beloved. But not only you have none of those things, but you also storm here like a goddamn burglar throwing my friends out of your way and expecting me to run into your arms just like that?”

“They are kinda right though-”

“Quiet, Ruggie.”

“Seems like you learned nothing at all. If you really care so much, try again tomorrow.”

And with those words, his audience with you came to an end.

***

The next few days he spent as busy as ever, running around the whole campus. Attempting to buy back your favour through many different ways. He really felt like quitting sometimes, but then, he saw them. The little mischievous smiles he could sometimes catch a glimpse of after completing some tasks. 

Those little smiles were rare treats even back when you were dating. Those smiles made his day and were the reason why you could get away with everything. Those smiles reminded him of one of the many reasons why he was so obsessed with you.

It was a pain, but worth it in the end. He could finally hold you back in his arms, his grip stronger than ever.

You breathed in his strong, pleasant scent and basked in the embrace his hands had over your body.

Some braver  students who got accidentally caught in your crossfire even gave him some advice. Dating someone is not the end of fighting for them. You always fight for them and with each day, you find yourself falling in love again and again – each time a little bit more. That’s the recipe for the never ending love.

That’s a hassle, for sure. But if it’s for you, he doesn’t mind fighting for even a thousand years, if it means he gets to see you smile for him.

Also

Don’t worry, Ruggie wouldn’t let himself be forgotten. It barely took any effort at all for him to get Leona to lend him his wallet for a day when he was in a good mood. And everyone had their happy ending(?)

Ⓐⓩⓤⓛ

~For a week or so, he laid low.

~You never got the time to feel lonely though. The first years accompanied you everywhere. As well as some of your befriended second and third years would also drop by to say hi.

~In the midst of all the friendly faces, you barely had any time to miss Azul at all. Sometimes you even wondered if the two of you spent too little time together to get attached to each other.

~But then came the nightfall and the tossing around in bed thinking about him. Craving his company. Craving his touch.

~You couldn’t decide which one was more unbearable. The sleepless nights or the nights when you fell asleep to sweet, almost fever-like dreams about him.

~All those things were the reason why you felt so conflicted when gifts started appearing in front of your dorm. The first time it happened, you were with Grim, Sebek and Silver, watching a movie when your doorbell rang. You made your way through the eerily quiet corridors and opened the door only to find no one. 

~You looked around for a bit, before you noticed the stuff laying on the ground. It was evening already, so you couldn’t quite make out the details, but your eyes recognised some book, a cushion, some plants, a body sponge and some food decorated in tasteful wrappings.

~While you were standing and wondering what in the world were you supposed to do with those things, your friends came down to check up on you and see what was taking you so long.

~No explanations were necessary when they saw the packages by your door. The sender left no doubts as well by a short note attached to one of the presents. Your friends, who were no strangers to your affair with Azul, quickly got into an argument with each other. One side offered to throw the stuff away (Sebek) while the other part fought to keep the gift for themselves instead (Grim).

~Their bickering was only stopped when Silver woke up from his three minute nap and asked if you wish to make up with Azul or end that chapter of your life.

~You did not know how to answer that question. All you wanted was to just talk things through with him.

~For the next few days, the gifts flooded you from all sides. A mug here, a blanket there, homemade chocolates on your desk… 

~It wasn’t long before Jade and Floyd started appearing to give you the gifts personally. Always smiling so invitingly. But of course, no Azul in sight.

~One day you just got so fed up, the moment you were approached on a day before class, you just handed the two eels a note and asked them to hand it over to their dorm leader. They masked their surprise fairy well and wasted no time before visiting Azul in his office.

~He opened the paper so fast he almost tore it.

“Come meet me yourself you coward.”

~The message was short and painfully clear.

The next day, as you were leaving the campus and on the way to your dorm, you met no one else but him. With his hair propped back, dressed in a fine suit, holding the bouquet and the chocolates as his sword and shield. 

The moment he saw you, he almost flinched as his face went bright pink. 

“Angelfish, I-!”

You opened the door to your dorm and welcomed him in. Greatly flustered, he accepted the invitation, almost reluctantly handing over his last weapons in the fight he was meant to lose from the very beginning. 

Your eyes have always been so beautiful, he would surely get lost in their clever gaze had the moment been better. 

“Well,” your voice pulled him out of the trance,” since you’re not saying anything, I’ll start.”

You took a deep breath, before yelling the next words in his face.

“I’m obsessed with you!”

“H-huh?” Azul almost jumped at your sudded words, getting even redder than before. But you didn’t let him answer.

“I love everything about you. I love the way your hair shines when you’re working in Monstro Lounge. I love the mischievous glint in your eyes whenever you get a new deal. I love your smug, salesman grin, but I love your happy smile way more. I’d sell my soul to the devil a million times if that means seeing it again. I love your voice and I feel my heart flutter each time I hear it. I swear I could listen to you speak for days without break and never have enough of it. I love the way you dress and the way you walk. I love how intelligent and hard working you are. I love every second we spend together, “ you grabbed his hands and continued,” I just love you so much, there’s no man in the world who I could possibly exchange you for!”

By the time you were finished, you were out of breath and just as red as the man in front of you. 

But out of all the reactions you could expect, you surely did not expect tears to start streaming down his cheeks. 

You eyed your lover wide eyed and slowly panicked, as the man still standing in front of you began to sob.

“Wait, no! Hold on, I didn’t mean to-!” Your body acted on autopilot when you pulled him into a strong embrace and sat both of you on your dorm couch.

You stroked his back gently and let him get it all out, silently freaking out. ‘He was crying. Was that good or not? Well he didn’t really push you away, so maybe I didn’t screw up as bad as I thought, but he’s not stopping to cry. What am I supposed to do? Keep holding him? Give him some space? Maybe a glass of water? Man, I really gotta go to the toilet.’

And so, you wondered what you should do next. 

And you would have been wondering for a long time to come, had it not been for your boyfriend, who spoke up, suddenly. 

“Does that mean we're dating again?” His shockingly strong hands were gripping hard your back, as he was slowly calming down.

“Of course we are.”

***

A few days later, you were invited by your boyfriend to the Monstro Lounge. For what, you weren’t sure, so you threw on something comfortable and made your way over to his dorm. 

Once you arrived, you were led by grinning eels to the vip room where Azul was already waiting. You gave him a peck on the cheek before your attention shifted towards the monitor taking up the whole wall.

“Are we watching something?” 

“Well, you could put it this way. Now please, make yourself comfortable. The snacks and beverages are ready and waiting. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.”

You were taken to the plush armchair you shared a certain fondness towards, with your lover joining soon after.

You didn’t even have the time to ask about the title of the thing you were going to watch, because the title screen answered your question quicker. 

100 Ways Why I Love Y/N The Most In The World

You chuckled awkwardly and shifted in your seat.

This was going to be a long evening.

𝓥𝓲𝓵

~Vil was restless. 

~He couldn’t even remember that much from your argument. It was so… Unlike him to lose his temper like that. 

~He couldn’t help it, but replay the last few weeks in his head, in search of any answers. How did it come to this? What caused the argument? How could have it been avoided?

~Naturally, Rook came to his dorm leader’s aid. Of course, he couldn’t leave him in misery!

~After a bit of asking and prodding from Vil’s side, he pointed out a few subtle changes in your behaviour he noticed. The other man listened to his words carefully and it came to clear sight that your “sudden outburst” was not in fact a sudden outburst, but rather something pretty much logical and expected.

~And the ever so helpful hunter of love, of course pointed out every single little mistake his friend made on his path of love, as if they were the most obvious things in the world.

~It made Vil a bit… Icky, to realise that Rook was there to witness each mistake of his. And then let them go uncorrected! But then he was reminded that his friend was in no place to interfere much between you two and no matter how much he disliked it, he had to accept that arguments are also a part of relationships.

~The whole issue was giving him a headache, therefore he decided that he was done with the issue for the day and opted to go to sleep.

~What he didn’t predict though, was that the issue was not quite done with him.

~The whole skincare routine of his was going painfully slow that evening. His thoughts kept spiralling mercilessly- he almost applied bath foam instead of cucumber lotion on his eyes. Then, after the Seven knows how long, when he thought he was nearing the end, it turned out he was barely reaching the half.

~But would his pride let him ditch the skincare and go straight to bed like he probably should? Nope! 

~That being said, not going to school the following day was not an option as well. He’ll crawl there if he has to, but he will prove to you and the whole world (but mostly just himself) that he’s fine on his own. 

~I suppose we could even say that he succeeded? He’s an experienced actor, after all. Surely, a slightly disturbed night’s rest will not affect his performance?

~Even if it did, no one noticed. Except for Rook, but we don’t talk about Rook

~Still, he caught himself scanning the crowd of potatoes, in search of the particular one more than once. 

~And when he did spot you, it took him every last bit of self-restraint he had, not to rush to you approach you like he usually would.

~You two truly were a match made in hell. Both held your pride in regard too high, to miss the next day of school. So of course, you made sure not to overdress, but still, subtly show off what the other one lost.

~Nothing to see here. Just two idiots too proud to apologise to the other one going on about their days, secretly waiting for the other one to approach first. Rook couldn’t decide whether it was purely comical or hysterically heartbreaking. 

~The thing dragged on for days and days. Vil could pretend all he wanted, but your absence by his side bothered him all the same. His thoughts always found a way to come back to you. When he was putting on makeup in the mornings, he caught himself wondering which eyeshadow you would appreciate the most, which lipstick shade would look the best on your lips after you kiss…

~Even when he’s arranging his schedule, the first priority in his mind is to get as much free time to spend with you as possible. It was surprisingly tough to get rid of the lingering thoughts in his head. What kind of spell did you put on him? 

~The loneliness soon became unbearable. While the dorm leader of Pomefiore took comfort in his friend, the dorm leader of Ramshackle took comfort in theirs. 

~And so, the unexpected hero became no one else but… Epel! i say unexpected, but he really had no other choice with his leader going twice as hard on him just because he was close to you As your mutual friend, he could hear out both sides of the conflict and take the role of something like a mediator, but with lots of plotting. Naturally, Rook and the rest of the first years were dragged in as well.

~What was the plan? Well, the rough idea was making you and Vil lose a bet or something which would result in you two having to fill a single wish of theirs. And then…

“Let me check if I understood correctly. What am I supposed to do is just stay in my room until sunrise and not leave the bed, unless it’s necessary?” Your past lover raised his eyebrows when he received an enthusiastic confirmation from his vice. He was just finishing the last activities before going to bed. 

“And am I not allowed to ask why you would ask me for that?”

“Non! Please remember your promise to fulfil one wish of mine, it cannot be taken back now.” The man chirped, and the other scoffed.

“Obviously, I won’t take my word back. Who do you take me for?” Vil sat up on his bed. He was getting more and more suspicious. 

“Très bien! Good night to you, Roi de Poison.”

“Good night to you as well.”

And just as his vice left his room, someone else was pushed inside. 

Your ex boyfriend almost gasped when he saw you standing in front of him, looking like you had just been forced to swallow your own pride by tiny, aeroplane spoons. 

“Remember our deal!” You heard the shout of your so-called “friends”.

“I think I’m having second thoughts.” You turned around and headed towards the exit when you were stopped by Ace.

“Oi, Prefect! It's not fair to make a promise and then take back your word. AND, don’t you owe us? Think about everything we’ve done for you so far. Isn’t it only right for you to pay us back now?”

“That’s manipulation!”

“Maybe! But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re bound by your word now.”

“My word? What does my word matter to you? You have it on paper?”

Ace scowled, “We knew you’d say that. That’s why…” 

He moved to occupy  your ear and whispered a few words, only audible to the two of you. You gasped.

“You wouldn’t dare!” You said so, but you knew damn well he would. “Besides, what do you even get out of this?”

“Epel paid me.”

“What?”

“Nothing!”

“Deuce!”

“This is for your own good, prefect!”

And then, they were gone.

You stood there for a minute analysing your situation while Vil, who was silently observing the whole thing  and putting the puzzles together until now, sent you a neutral glance. 

“I’m taking the floor.” You decided in the end, and sprawled down on your back, with your arms under your head and closed your eyes.

“There’s no way you are spending the night on the floor-” He announced sterny, stopping himself from adding ‘potato’ at the end of the sentence.

“Yes, there is. Goodnight.” You closed your eyes.

You could almost hear him exhaling an exasperated sigh.

Meanwhile he tried to think of ways to approach you. He remembered your words about him imposing his will on you. Dragging you on the bed - no matter how much he wished he could- was a bad solution, no matter how he thought of it. Persuading you to get on the bed would also probably be really time consuming.

At the same time, he genuinely didn’t want you to lay on the floor. 

But the situation still appeared delicate, so he simply stood up and turned off the light.

“...You are always welcome in my bed,” he only added, before laying down. The memories of when you spent nights together cuddled in his bed came flooding his mind and lulling him to sleep. He could only regret that he didn’t have you there with him anymore. 

Some time passed and he was almost sleeping at this point when he heard your voice. So faint that he could almost mistake it for an illusion.

“You said that I only gain any worth when I stand by your side. Did you mean it?”

At that moment, Vil really wished to drink poison so he could perhaps choke on his words. He took a deep, quiet breath.

“I did not. Not that, nor anything else.”

A few more moments of silence passed between the two of you. This time he didn’t allow himself to give in to the sleepiness. 

“...I didn’t mean the insults I said either. I was mad. I wanted to be your equal for once.”

“I never intended to make you feel like that. I never thought of you as anything less than my equal.”

“Now that I think about it, I really shouldn’t have bottled it up for so long.”

“I was also at fault for not seeing the signs.”

“The signs, huh?”

A few more minutes of silence.

Then he could feel you climbing into his bed. 

He felt as if a boulder was taken off his shoulders.

You fell asleep on distant sides of the bed, but woke up clinging to each other. 

Ｉｄｉａ

~Good thing Ortho wasn’t there when you were arguing. You didn’t even know where exactly he was – you could only vaguely recall Idia mentioning that he’s running an errand for him. 

~Soon after you left, the younger brother in question bursted into their room, alarmed by the sudden, drastic abnormalities in his brother’s vital functions.

~But when he found him, there was no panic, no screams and no tears. He was just sitting in front of his monitor playing the game, his fingers mechanically pressing the buttons. He stared blankly at the screen, but he didn’t register a thing. Not even Ortho’s arrival.

~The day after, in the very morning, the same precious adopted child of yours, appeared out of nowhere and started asking questions. You really wanted to tell him. You wanted to clarify the issue and ask how was Idia… But you felt drained.

~”Sorry Ortho, I just, I just need some time, ok?” He accepted your answer and didn’t pry any further, but a pang of guilt flashed through your chest at the silent worry in his voice. 

~Two hours haven’t passed since then, when you were hit by a wave of nausea. You knew it was going to come to this, eventually. You knew too damn well that you have been pushing yourself too hard for the past week and kept telling yourself that you would take a break soon.

~But there was always something getting in the way. A test approaching, an errand to run, a new in-game event… Man, no wonder you were feeling so under the weather lately. 

~Welp, it was Friday anyway. You decided to take a while off and prolong your weekend. Take your mind off some stuff (Idia) and just enjoy a bit of relaxation.

~It was all fine and dandy until the afternoon when you realised that you had run out of stuff to do. You took a nap already and ate something as well. You tried to think, what would you usually do when you had a free minute?

~Your brain immediately put on a neon sign in front of your eyes and it said Visit Idia. Whenever you had the time to, you would make your way over to Ignihyde, where you were always welcome for whatever you wished to do. A few weeks after you started dating, you stopped even bothering to text him to ask if you could come over, because the answer was always yes.

~The following days were quiet. Eerily so. Not a peep from him, not a world from you. 

~While you were picking up new hobbies to pass the time somehow, Idia was shutting himself off. All he did was game, but avoided the ones you two played together like fire. He wanted to push it off on you. He wanted to believe you were the one to blame. But there was always that bitterly persistent voice in his head, saying that it was all his fault.

~He kept instinctively glancing at his messages, hoping to receive one from you before remembering that there will be no more messages. Maybe except the one which approach he dreaded – Let’s break up.

~He was somehow convinced to attend the lessons, but he barely paid them any mind. His attention would only return when he’s “walking” through the corridors, the camera scanning the place for you, but averting his eyes the moment he’d spot you.

~He kept opening your messages to text you about some new anime releases or promising manga. Even almost sending the text several times. Each time ending up breaking him more and more. 

~Eventually, after his longing for you became unbearable, he started going through your texts. He laughed at your inside jokes and recalled the memes you sent each other. It lifted up his mood temporarily before crushing him all the way down, but it was still some kind of relief.

~But then there were texts that didn’t sit right with him. The ones where you seemed so excited for a new chapter release he almost shared your enthusiasm, but then, he saw his replies, where he just brushed it off and changed the subject. He could find a fair amount of texts like that, and now that he recalled them, they even irked him. What must you have felt?

~He wanted to run to you and beg for forgiveness. But at the same time, he wanted the earth to swallow him whole so you would never have to watch his pitiful self again.

~A few more days passed and he could swear, had it not been for Ortho, he would have gone insane. It was truly a miracle that his little brother was there to cheer him up and keep him company in his misery. 

~Except he would bring you up a bit too often for his liking. Suggesting that he could talk to you or sharing ideas about how to approach you. And he really wanted to! But the whole thing was stressing him out without any mercy at all. And one day, he just bursted it out without thinking.

“I’m fine, Ortho. I don’t want to talk- don’t want to see them. Not now, not ever!”

“Really?” The door to his room opened, revealing no one else but you.

At that very moment, all the alarm bells went off in his head. A spark of understanding jumped between you and Ortho. You stepped further inside as he left to give the two of you some privacy jk, he was watching on camera

Meanwhile Idia crawled to the furthest corner of his room in a futile attempt to escape, before his back hit the wall.

When his gaze met yours, he almost shrieked.

“Ca-can you go away? Please go away!”

“I will,” you sat down on his floor, cross legged, “but first, I want us to talk things through.” You took a deep breath. “When I left that time, I didn’t really explain anything to you. I just kind of- took out my frustration on you, instead of communicating what was wrong.”

You thought Idia couldn’t get any more wide eyed, but there he was. He listened to you with an expression as if you were speaking an alien language.

“I-went through our t,texts!” He bursted out suddenly.

You sent him a questioning look.

His hands started fondling the edges of his hoodie, but he kept talking.

“I saw it-! When you were so excited and just, I just shrugged it off like it didn’t matter. No wonder you were so mad. I just can’t do this stuff right! I wish I could just reset and reload,” the tips of his hair turned orange.

“I wished you’d notice me.”

And so, you talked things through. It was a slow process, but you were getting there.

It soon became clear that Idia would do anything for you to get back together. You were genuinely surprised to see the desperation in his eyes when he told you how much he missed you. It made you want to envelop him in a tight hug and never let go.

And you did. God, you missed his comforting warmth so much. And he probably missed you too, if how hard his hands were gripping you had anything to say about it. You could already feel the bruises forming, but it didn’t matter. You were just happy to have him back. (Ortho with his camera teared up)

The rest of the evening, and then night, the three of you spent gaming, but you didn’t do much gaming yourself, because your lover insisted you hold him. And how could you possibly refuse? 

But then everything went into ashes with a single question.

“Say, did you get some sleep this week?”

He was betrayed by his own little brother’s accusatory voice.

“He didn’t!”

Suddenly, the relaxed atmosphere became heavy and unbearable and your hold on his body had grown uncomfortable.

Idia could only tremble in fear of what was going to come next.

Blushing Todoroki to heal our souls uwu 

heaven can't help me now

summary: Suna x Reader. dating on a bet but it's ethical

word count: 4.4k

cw: a lot of kissing, cheating (not done to reader or by suna), humor to ??? to angst to ???, no joke this is all over the place, friends to dating the school player on a bet to fake dating to friends to

a/n: shh

“This is the stupidest situation I’ve ever been in,” you say, surveying the mostly-empty early morning grounds of Inarizaki High. The only noises are the breeze rustling through the trees, birds chirping musically, and the grunts of every student athlete running through their morning workout.

“No it’s not,” says your best friend, the demonic entity who put you in this mess.

“No, it’s not,” you agree sadly. “Alright. Let’s get this over with.”

Getting this over with actually entails waiting until the end of the school day, because you don’t want to face the consequences of your actions and would rather hide at home than suffer publicly in school.

One in thirteen people die via vending machine every year, you remind yourself as you approach the contraption warily. You should be so lucky.

Tragically, the vending machine doesn’t kill you; worse, everything goes according to plan. At 3:23 p.m., Suna Rintarō approaches for his pre-practice snack.

I’m gonna throw up, you text your friend. She leaves you on delivered. You hate her.

“Hey,” Suna says your name, effectively cutting off all trains of thought.

“Hi,” you say. You nearly chicken out, but your pride is on the line. You have to do this. You can do this. You are a badass.

“Thanks,” says Suna. Oops. Your mouth clamps shut involuntarily, so you stare mutely at him while he chuckles to himself, focused primarily on scanning the plethora of processed food the machine offers.

About three things you are absolutely positive. First, Suna is a heartbreaker of the highest degree. Second, you are trapped in a dare to prove otherwise. And third, the way his blazer drapes over his frame and he smiles at you like he’s letting you know a secret makes you feel like a dandelion being blown into the blue sky on a sunny summer day.

Like having butterflies, but instead of merely letting them flutter around your innards, you ascend into the weightlessness of fluttering flight.

Fucking insects.

“Funny story,” you say abruptly, making eye contact with Suna. “I was dared to date you. For over three months. I don’t think I was supposed to tell you but it didn’t seem ethical not to on the off chance that you would, y’know, say yes, against all known laws of physics and aviation—”

Suna laughs. His nose scrunches up when he does it, and his eyes nearly close, and the flush on his face is the same shade of pink all the French lovers wrote about, probably. You bounce on your toes in agitation.

“I know it sounds like a joke but I just really need you to give an answer so I can report back because if I don’t ask you they threatened to dye my cat purple.”

“Isn’t your cat black?”

“I have two cats,” you say. “I knew I shouldn’t have defended you. Asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he waves it off. “Let’s do it. Could be fun.”

“Are you joking?” It’s your turn to laugh.

“No,” he says simply, stepping just into your personal space so he can reach out and brush a piece of your hair back. “Not even a little.”

“Excuse me a moment,” you say, and turn your back to him to message FUCK in the groupchat with unsteady fingers. You are all too aware of his sharp eyes watching over your shoulder while you type the four-letter word three times until it’s spelled correctly. You tuck your phone back into your pocket and face him again with squared shoulders. “Cool. Sweet. Should we shake on it?”

He stretches out his hand. You take it, gripping it firmly to indicate that you will be a reliable and firm business partner.

“Is there money on this?”

“5000 yen from six people each if we last through the three month mark,” you say seriously. “I can give you fifteen percent of the winnings.”

“Fifty percent.”

“Twenty.”

“Thirty,” he says, and you shrug. “But I’m still gonna call it off if I get bored, just so you know.”

“Oh, I know,” you say. You’re still holding his hand.

He changes his grip so your fingertips are barely touching, drawing your hand up to brush a kiss over the knuckles. You want to punch him in the mouth a little bit. It’s not right for someone to be so romantic in an entirely unromantic situation. It’s confusing and upsetting.

“Signed and sealed,” he says. “Walk home with me on Friday, okay?”

Friday goes well. At first, you feel clumsy and stupid, your mind entirely consumed by the fact that you’re fake-dating him. Your friends hadn’t bought that he’d said yes (they didn’t know you’d told him about the bet) until he’d interrupted your morning briefing with them the next day, hair endearingly limp from volleyball-induced sweat and grin sharp and wide. He’d slung an arm around you while you shrieked and tried to get out from beneath him, aggravated by his moistness, and he’d finally put an end to your wriggling by spinning you face to face with him, brushing his nose against yours and telling you to be good.

That had shut you up for, like, ten minutes.

It’s easy to fake it around your friends, playing off an inside joke with him that reads as chemistry to outsiders. One on one, though, you panic.

“So...” Suna says, hands in his pockets and posture slouched while you stew in anticipatory embarrassment. “What do you think of Englebert Humperdink?”

“What?”

“What?”

“You’re weird, Suna,” you bump into him purposely, bouncing off with the efficacy of a tennis ball hitting a brick wall.

“I told you to call me Rintarō,” he bumps you back. “And you’re the one being weird.”

“It’s just weird,” you say indignantly. “Don’t you think it’s weird?”

“Well, I’m weird too,” he shrugs. “No big.”

Weirder, it’s like a ton lifts off your shoulders when he says that.

“At least you’re weird cool,” you offer. “People like your weird.”

“I don’t really care, though,” he says. “People like you, they don’t like you, it doesn’t matter. You’re still weird.”

“Are you talking about you or me? Or the ambiguous you?”

He only offers a mysterious smile in response.

Your first date with Suna — Rintarō — is five days of walking home with him plus the weekend later. He picks you up fifteen minutes late, has a toxic green energy drink in hand, and refuses to tell you where he’s taking you no matter how you beg, threaten, or bribe.

It’s a classic: the movie theater. By the time you’ve finished reading all the possible movie titles on show tonight, he’s brandishing two tickets to the latest in a series of corny action flicks, smirking lazily at you.

“I wanted to see the one with the assassin romance,” you say while he pays for movie snacks, mocking you relentlessly for your choice of filler food.

“The one who pays picks the movie,” he sing-songs.

“That’s not a rule. And I could’ve paid.”

“It is for me, and I wouldn’t let you do that, because I’m a gentleman and a great time.”

“You chose a movie with four prequels I haven’t seen. I don’t think you qualify for either of those.” He shrugs.

“The tickets are bought. No choice now.”

You get back at him by making snide comments throughout the movie, pointing out every plot hole and snickering at the saddest scenes.

“You are a demon and I never should have agreed to this,” he points at you once you’ve walked out of the theater.

“Aw, no, baby,” you say, pouting exaggeratedly at him. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Not a chance,” he laughs. “No fucking way.”

It turns out that being in a couple can be really good for your social life. You get specials at restaurants, so you go out to eat more. You like pissing off your friends with your success, so you invite them to hang out and bring your boyfriend along. You get to know the infamous volleyball team, who are a lot less intimidating when they run around hitting each other with towels than they are on the court.

Sure, the Miyas seem like they’re constantly laughing behind your back, but you can tell they’re bouncing between making fun of Rintarō and of you equally.

“He’s gonna break up with you, ya know?” Says the gray-haired one to you one day, completely unprompted. You blink up at him, caught mid-soup sip.

“Don’t make fun, Samu,” says the blond. “He’s too in loveeeeee to do that.” He tilts his head coquettishly and flutters his fingers around his face. “He told us you’re not like his exes. He actually said that.”

“I think he says that to all his dates,” Osamu muses. “Male manipulator.”

“Male manipulator my ass,” snorts Atsumu. “Yesterday he saw one of his ex-girlfriends and hid behind me until she went away. The man is a simp.”

“Maybe he still has feelings for her,” muses Osamu, staring at you with laser focus. “Does that worry you?”

“No?” You say, then take a loud slurp of soup.

“You’re borin’,” says Atsumu. “Maybe s’why he likes you so much. Bye.”

“Bye,” says Osamu.

“Bye.”

You’re on your fifth date, getting a special two for the price of one taiyaki deal when you actually bump into his ex, standing behind you in line.

“Hi,” she grins at you. “You know he’s a piece of shit, right?”

“Yes,” you say confidently, at the same time Rintarō says her name pleadingly. You sense suddenly that there is history here you don’t want to make light of.

“As long as you’re clear,” she says, taking your hand and squeezing it. Her fingertips bite into your skin. You look at Rintarō, surprised he’s not making any smart quips, but the gray shade of his skin tells you everything you need to know about the situation.

“The vibes,” you say, suddenly. “They’re arsenic.”

“What?”

“Rintarō,” you grab his hand and tug on it. “We have to go.”

You pull him out of the line, stumbling as he goes and giving her a small, pathetic wave as you storm away.

He doesn’t regain his color until you’re in your room, sitting on your bed while he drapes himself over your desk chair.

“So is there a reason why your ex makes you catatonic or should I make one up?”

“She’s fine,” Rintarō says hoarsely.

“Yep,” you say. “She killed your childhood horse.”

“What? No, you’re insane. She cheated on me.”

“She cheated on you?” You launch yourself to your feet, suddenly filled with the power of a thousand burning suns to strike her down.

“No, no, no,” he says. “Sit down. Sit down. It was my fault, anyway.”

Rintarō’s not a particularly loud guy, but he sounds so quiet now that you nearly ask him to speak up.

“How can her cheating possibly be your fault?” You arch a brow.

“I wasn’t a good boyfriend,” he says. “I was really, uh, neglectful.” He holds a hand up when you open your mouth. “It was worse than you think. She tried to reason with me a bunch of times and I wouldn’t listen. We had a pretty big fight and didn’t talk for a couple days, and when we were talking again, she had... Well. And then it was over.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. So, I dunno, I don’t blame her or anything. Plus, I went on a streak of fucking, uh, flings afterwards so I’m not faultless, either.”

“Bullshit, but okay,” you snort. “None of that is grounds for sleeping with someone else as revenge for upsetting her.”

“It wasn’t revenge—”

“It kinda was,” you point out. “And I don’t think you hooking up with a bunch of people after she hit you in the heart with a golf club is really the same thing. If anything, it sounds like you were just... trying to get over her, which isn’t a crime in anyone’s book, really.”

“It wasn’t hooking up,” he protests weakly.

“You’re running out of arguments, Rintarō,” you say. “Anyway. Um. Sorry for being all in your business. Can I get you anything?”

“I don’t know,” he says vaguely, staring into space.

“Okay,” you say, shoulders dropping. “Sounds good to me.”

You spend the next hour with him in near silence. Halfway through, you ask if he wants to sit on the bed with you, which he gladly accepts. The only noise in the room is the sound of the both of you tapping at your phones and occasionally clicking on a video and playing it out loud. You wonder if your parents would be angry that you had a boy in your room if they walked in and saw the two of you doing absolutely nothing.

“Sorry,” you say, just before he leaves. “Again.”

“No, you’re good,” he responds. “It was nice. Really, really nice.”

Impulsively, you hug him. It takes a second for him to unfreeze, but you eventually feel hands patting your back.

“Night,” you say once you’ve pulled back. “Sleep tight.”

“Hope the vampires bite,” he says, smiling toothily at you.

That’s when you become best friends with your boyfriend.

You can recall the nearly physical feeling of the click of things into place, of the way the universe shifted just slightly so you could see so much more clearly. Dates blur into one long Suna session. Suddenly, you find your afternoons consumed with sitting on the bleachers, even if you're not actually watching practice. You no longer need to invite Rintarō to gatherings; he's there when the plans are made. You text incessantly during class and he sits in your desk chair, playing games on his phone, while you ponder your homework, waiting for you to finish so the two of you can binge dramas together.

"This means we probably would've had more fun if we'd watched the assassin romance instead of General Godzilla 5: Part 2," you say snidely.

"Fuck you," he responds eloquently.

He does the dishes for you when your parents ask you to, and you wash his laundry when you visit his house. This must be what it means to be in a partnership. The two of you encounter new problems and adapt, improvise, overcome.

"Have you and Suna... you know? Yet?" Asks one of your friends.

"No," laughs your best friend (the one you're not dating). "Have you two even kissed yet?"

"Yes, of course we have," you answer extremely truthfully. "Excuse me."

Rintarō opens his front door half an hour later. You promptly scream for fifteen straight seconds. He understands.

"We just need to orchestrate a kiss and get more comfortable with PDA," you reason later, sitting cross-legged across from him on your bed. He nods seriously, fingers steepled and expression wise.

"We can do that. Have you ever kissed someone before?" You throw a pillow at him.

"Of course I have. Just because it doesn't turn into schoolwide gossip doesn't mean it's not happening."

"Low blow, but okay."

"Wait," you pause. "Maybe you're right. Not factually, but spiritually. Do you think we should practice?"

"Maybe," you watch him swallow. "Yeah."

You both scoot slowly toward each other, laughing nervously every time the bed creaks.

"So are you..." You start, throat dry. "Um. Am I or are you gonna—"

Ungracefully, his lips land on yours. Your eyes slam shut and you reciprocate enthusiastically, cupping the back of his neck with one hand to brace yourself. Despite the jerky start, you can tell that he's a good kisser, a really good kisser. He sucks hard on your lower lip, drawing a noise you're embarrassed to hear out of your mouth, which prompts him to shift around and put a large hand on your back, kneeling so he has a few inches on you and can pull you closer. You kiss him harder, desperate to drown out the intensity of your own reaction.

Too hard. You think you black out.

When you come to, your hands have migrated into his black hair and he's pulling away from your neck, which you suspect is freshly marked. He stares down at you with wide eyes, and you suspect the expression is mirrored on your face.

"Do you think that was enough practice?" You ask carefully, unsure of what the correct answer is.

"Probably," he says, leaning back. "It'll be fine. Unless you get performance anxiety and drool on my face or something."

"You're so gross."

"You love me."

"Do I?"

You're half-asleep, walking out of your final period of the day when someone pulls you headlong into a dark classroom.

"Don't scream," Rintarō says. You scream. "Exactly. Thank you."

Then he's kissing you, barely brushing his lips against yours, smirking when you pinch his ribs. You chase him, kissing him fully and turning the both of you so that he's up against the wall, his hands loosely gripping your waist while your hands wander to his hair. He tastes sweet-and-sour, like home and like trouble, a contradiction wrapped in black hoodies and burning yellow eyes.

Someone's calling your name. Someone's calling your name, and the lights are on. You blink blearily at your best friend, who's laughing her ass off, and separate slowly from Rintarō. Your lips are wet and you can't seem to catch your breath.

"It's not what it looks like."

"God, imagine if I'd been a teacher," your friend howls and backs out of the classroom, beckoning you to follow. "Oh, the looks you guys gave me..."

"Remy," Rintarō whispers in your ear as he jogs to catch up with you, slinging his bag on. "You're like the rat in Ratatouille. Pulling me around by my hair."

"You are so, so bad at romance," you hiss. "See if I ever do it again."

"I mean, we weren't going to," he says. "But I'd like to."

You punch him lightly in the arm, but your heart's not in it.

Comparatively, PDA isn't hard after that. Your friends make fun of your hickey, which you shift up your collar to hide self-consciously (and which Rintarō pulls down constantly and secretly, for reasons unknown to you), and you hold hands without even thinking about it. You kiss him hello on the cheek and he hugs you goodbye, and you're starting to become hyperaware of the upcoming deadline.

Will everything change the way it did when you asked him to do this crazy, stupid thing with you? Will it all slip away, like a dream you can't quite remember by the time you wake up?

All these worries add up to something worse, you realize, lying in bed staring at the ceiling. You're not quite sure you can make it to the three month mark without wanting everything that's been smoke and mirrors and espionage to be real.

Only two weeks, you tell yourself, checking over your calendar again and again like it'll make the days pass faster. Fourteen days, three hundred thirty six hours, twenty thousand and one hundred sixty minutes. Everything is fine.

He takes you to the movies again.

He buys tickets for a movie from the fifties, buys you your favorite snacks without having to be asked, wraps his arm around you when you shiver from the air-conditioned interior. He likes the seats in the middle, but you nod toward the back.

"Really?" He asks, voice strangely high-pitched. "Oh. Sick."

You don't remember much of the movie.

Your last date with Suna Rintarō ends on the train. The world is a smear of blue and gray in front of you; behind you, arms embracing you almost too loosely is him. You turn your head to speak into his ear.

"It's been good," you tell him. "Happy three months."

"Happy three months," he repeats, the words nearly foreign in his mouth. "And one day. We're gonna be rich."

"And one day," you smile, and reach for his hand, his bony fingers cold to the touch. "Should we stage a big breakup?"

"I've had enough of big breakups for a lifetime," he laughs. "But if you want to, let's do it. Could be fun."

"No, it's okay," you shrug. "They're gonna know we gamed them, anyway. No need to lay it on anymore."

"Yeah," he replies. "Does that mean this is it?"

The conductor announces your stop, one neighborhood before his.

"I guess so," you feel strangely light, a little out of body. "See you tomorrow, Rintarō."

You should kiss him, maybe. Something dramatic should be happening right now; at least an emotional embrace. That's not how the two of you operate, though, and it wasn't anything real, anyway, you try to remind yourself. He won't be losing any sleep over this, so neither should you.

You lick your lips and smile at him, giving a little wave. He lifts a hand, head down while he looks at his phone. You can close the book on your relationship, and it feels just right. The train starts to move, and you turn around and walk home.

This is the stupidest situation he's ever been in, Rintarō thinks to himself.

It's been two weeks since what should have been the easiest breakup of his life, and things don't feel easy.

At first they were: your friends were annoyed but good natured, handing out the money reluctantly but with knowing expressions on their faces. He'd become too much a part of your life to simply pull out, and vice versa, so things had stayed similar.

But he felt so different, and he couldn't figure out why.

"Good one," Atsumu crows when he hears the truth of your relationship. "Really had me fooled. 'Samu, too."

"Was not!"

"Yes, you were. You thought he was playin' a fling again, not us."

"They were playin' their friends!"

"Are we not their friends, too?" Atsumu asks, wounded. "Hey, since Y/N is single now— or always was, whatever, could I—"

"Are you joking? No," Rintarō says. "What kind of question is that?"

"A perfectly valid one," sulks Atsumu. "Hey, mine!" He dives after a stray volleyball, and Rintarō stares after him distractedly.

It's almost metaphorical, the way Atsumu's easily pulled away from the topic of you by the game. Would that happen to Rintarō again? If he put in effort, and he could tell you how he felt— that he was miserable like this, that he'd gotten addicted to the way you tripped over your words because they came out too fast and the way your room smelled entirely like you and to your all-encompassing presence and touch, and he needed it, needed you back the way he'd had you and hadn't even known it— and by some miracle, you accepted, would he take it for granted? Would he ever be good enough for you?

Would he lose even the half of you he held in his palms now?

He's losing his mind, he realizes. Metaphor? In his volleyball? Unlikely.

He casts a longing look at the bleachers, then shakes his head. He needs to get his head in the game.

It's a Saturday night, and he misses you.

hey, he texts you, after forty-five minutes of agonizing deliberation. do u want to watch something? i think there's a ghibli showing at the theater but we can just stream if u want

sorry :( You respond three minutes later. can't.

rip, he sends. You don't answer. He slams his phone facedown on his comforter and lies on his back, his hands shaking. It's not until he rolls over and feels wet fabric against his cheek that he realizes he's been crying.

You feel so distant and only now he knows what he's doing wrong.

Rintarō's fallen in love with you.

"I don't know," you're saying. "I think I prefer the little jelly strawberries."

He can't focus. Every time he's around you, he nearly works up the courage to confess, to spill out every bloody, messy feeling he's had since you broke up and pray that you'll bear with him for it, but he always talks himself out of it. He can love you like this, he tells himself. His emotions aren't any less real for not being validated.

"What do you think? Rintarō?" You're snapping your fingers in front of his face. He hunches his shoulders and leans away.

"I think about your mom," he musters. You peer at him, your face far too close to his. He imagines bonking himself in the head with a thick textbook several times to remain stoic.

"You're being weird."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Walk home with me today."

"Are t— what?" He shrugs. "Okay."

He sits a little straighter. He can make it another few hours. You got this, man, be normal.

He's pretty sure he fails miserably in that regard, but he recalls you looking at him with sparkling eyes and telling him people liked his weird. He hopes you were talking about yourself.

The sky is clear and he's nearly too hot beneath his school blazer. Beside him, your steps are light, taken to the beat of a song he can't hear. Cars honk in the street and dogs bark in their backyards. He bites his lip.

"Is everything okay?" Is somehow the way he chooses to open the topic.

"Yes," you say. "But I don't think it is with you. Tell me." He crosses his arms, then uncrosses them. What is he doing? He's not sure.

"It's really stupid," he says. "Well, not really, I just think it's kind of weird, maybe, and you might not like it. Or me. I guess that's the gist of it. I like you. I think I love you. And it hurts like we broke up for real when we weren't even dating for real. You're a really good friend, and I don't want to lose that, but," he flounders. "If you wanted to try dating, again, for real, I would love to try dating, again, for real, because I think I could... I don't think I did badly, but I want to show you that I can do better." He laughs, quietly, self-deprecatingly, and slows to a stop, turning to face you.

You stare at him, lips parted and brows raised.

In the eternity stretching between the two of you, he feels something inside him crack. It's not a clean break, either. He can feel shards of himself falling to the sidewalk while you look on, his usually icy demeanor revealing the lovesick boy beneath.

You take a deep breath, and he swears he can feel it inflating his own lungs.

"Oh."

+

part two here

ejp !! (and iizuna)

izuku who always puts his backpack on your seat (that’s right next to his) to save your seat when you’re late to class.

izuku who grabs you a small muffin and your preferred drink on some mornings, just to see that sunshine smile on your face.

izuku who writes his notes ever messily (with vague loops here and there) and gets so flustered and embarrassed when he lets you borrow them, “i promise they’re not always that messy!”

izuku who clutches on the handle of your backpack when you’re in crowded hallways so the two of you don’t get lost.

izuku who gets so happy when you turn to him to ask for help in class, he’s happy you think he’s reliable enough to assist you.

izuku who always has random doodles in the margins of his notebooks and some days he finds himself drawing you in the corners of his biology notes.

izuku who has his hand laid underneath his chin as he gazes at you with pure and utter love from across the classroom instead of paying attention to the calculus splayed across the board.

bubashi WHEN huh

when is it my turn to be happy

It's so cute when kids get restless or excited then they start fiddling with their clothes HSHSHSHAHA

Stop it, Inko!! He’s already dead!

"Want some granola?" Suna asks, totally unsympathetic to your blubbering form sitting on the stairs between the fourth and fifth floor in front of him.

"Rin…I'm literally…" you groan, tired of it all. A few tears are swiped from your moist cheeks as you shudder and attempt to even out your voice. "No, Rintaro. I don't want any damn granola. I want my boyfriend back! How the hell can he just break up with me like that, over text of all freakin' things?! He's…he…he's a…"

"A dunce face," Suna completes for you.

"Yeah! A dunce face! I mean, why would he do that? How can he do that? We were fine last week!"

"Humans are fickle creatures," he muses.

"Yeah? Ha. Well then it's official. I hate humans- oh, except for you of course," you quickly say to your best friend. "But that…dunce face, and our physics professor, and the lady at the store who didn't give me proper change- I hate them!"

"Mm, I'm not a human actually," he says around a mouthful, noting the flavor profile between the oats and…nutmeg? Mhm, nutmeg. They totally put nutmeg in it. "I'm a genie."

"Oh, really?" You raise an eyebrow.

"Yup. I'm not fickle at all. In fact, I've had the fattest crush on you for the last few years and never wavered. Even when your face looks like that. I probably love you by now or whatever. Don't know what's wrong with your boy toy," Suna shrugs as if he didn't just confess to you and smacks his lips. "Anyways, Atsumu is waiting for me on the quad. I was supposed to be there half an hour ago but a pesky human kept me back."

Suna drops the mostly finished bag of granola on your lap, only containing the little bits and pieces you liked, and plants a big kiss on you, right on your snotty and bitten lips. "Later, dude."

ONLY FOOLS FALL FOR YOU. ( alhaitham x reader )

╰┈➤ some feelings came to haunt you after ten years since the last time you saw him.

pairings — alhaitham x fem!reader.

warnings — rivals / enemies to lover ish, slow burn, reader and alhaitham are in their middle twenties, reader has a pyro vision and is also a dancer and actress, reader is also the daughter of a genshin character, angst and a bit of fluff (happy ending of course but they're idiots in love).

word count — 8.1k

notes — june is back with another long fic for genshin! this one was supposed to be posted ages ago but i only had the time to do it now. i hope you guys will enjoy! reblogs and feedbacks are appreacited <3

lesser lord kusanali was a forbidden matter in your house, but you were sure she was the one who pushed you to be what you were today. 

being the daughter of the newest sage in sumeru had its perks, but you hated it. you hated the expectations everyone put on yourself, of how you should follow in your father’s footsteps and join the akademiya — everyone was sure you already had your vacancy there, with how important your father became in such a few moments after his promotion as a sage. but you never cared for scholar subjects, not in the way your two childhood friends did. 

alhaitham and kaveh had different interests, but they could enroll in the akademiya with no problem, because their line of study was actually respected by the sages and other scholars. yours, on the other hand, was looked down on and made fun of by every single one of your father’s, and him too, friends. as much as you tried not to look crestfallen when you heard them talking about the performers of the grand bazaar, alhaitham’s hand always managed to find yours when he was present in such gatherings — and you hoped that, when he wasn’t around, nobody would notice the change in your behavior. 

the arts were what called you: music, dancing, acting.

you could see yourself becoming a performer at the grand bazaar, dancing and acting for the honor of the dendro archon. the applause and excited screams of the audience were what you wanted to pursue, and not false wishes and the quietness of the akademiya. you thrived when alhaitham and kaveh, albeit forced by you, watched your makeshift plays about the archons and the dances you created in your head. you were aware they pitied you — kaveh with his dreams of being an architect and alhaitham’s love for all kinds of knowledge were much more suitable for sumeru city than your passions for the arts. 

that’s why you never expected them to support you in your decision of going against your father’s wishes to join the akademiya, and running away to the grand bazaar to join a theater troupe at the age of fifteen, inspired by a dream you had with the archon of your nation. 

it has been almost ten years, but you still remembered your father’s harsh words as if it had happened just yesterday — of how much of a disappointment you were for the family, how he would be able to explain to his peers and your future master that you decided to throw away the bright future it has been given to you, how ungrateful you were and how other people wished they were on your shoes. your mother remained quiet the whole time, but you never expected her support, too. she always agreed with everything your father used to say, almost brainwashed by the luxuries he displayed in front of her. in a way, she was, and the disappointed looks on their faces weren’t hurtful or a surprise for you. 

although, what hurt the most was alhaitham’s reaction. 

you had feelings from him ever since you knew what romantic love was, but they could never blossom into something more now, that you planned to run away from your home and probably never see your friends and family again. 

kaveh was aware of this too, being your confidant and best friend, trying to persuade you to not give up on everything — alhaitham and the akademiya, but you couldn’t pretend happiness in doing something you hated just because of feelings you didn’t even know if it was reciprocated. if alhaitham really liked you, he would respect your wishes and want your happiness before anything else.

it seemed like he didn’t, having the same reaction as your father — but his words were the ones who brought you to tears, his voice harsher and colder than you’ve ever heard growing up at his side, breaking your heart and cutting your skin like the blade he used to train. you almost gave up on your convictions and stayed in your home and went to the akademiya like your father wished, just to see him looking down at you with anything but the hatred dancing in his eyes. 

but you could not. not when lesser lord kusanali appeared to you in a dream, only to tell you to follow your dreams. you could not turn your back against your god and not do what she wished — she was the god of wisdom, and you trusted her judgment. 

and that’s why you turned your back to him, running away from your feelings for him and burying them in the deepest part of your heart. though, from time to time, you wondered what happened to him — did he and kaveh become scholars and follow their dreams just like yourself? how was the akademiya treating them? were they happy? had alhaitham found someone he loved more than his books? 

you knew such an answer would break your heart even more, but the agony of not knowing was much more worse. 

the grand bazaar welcomed you as if you were a lost daughter returning home after many years, and the zubayr theater became your new family. you were finally at the place you were destined to be, doing what you loved — captivating the audience with your movements and expression, bringing the toughest of men to his knees in broken sobs by your performances. the stage for you was like the library to the scholars of the akademiya, and you learned more and more every day you performed. 

you weren't alone there, having the company of nilou, your fellow dancer and actress who shared the same passion for the arts and love for the dendro archon, and, despite the age difference between the both of you, you two become fast friends — more than friends you came to notice one day, because the younger girl became like a little sister to you in just a few months of knowing each other. and you couldn’t be happier by following the words of lesser lord kusanali, thanking her every day for whispering her wisdom for you in your dreams. 

your days were spent rehearsing and performing, sometimes helping the merchants in the grand bazaar and planning more and more plays with your peers of the zubayr theater. it was like an act of resistance, almost, the performances you did — the people of sumeru were fond of the troupe’s plays, especially the children, and seeing the disapproval looks of the scholars were your fuel to not stop. 

it was supposed to be one of those days for you. a dance performance was scheduled in the treasures street, always buzzing with people due to its stalls and merchants, but today was different — you received the intel that a bunch of scholars would be wandering the area, probably for a case study of whatever the akademiya was planning. it was the perfect opportunity to show those arrogant scholars at least a glimpse of the wonders of the performing arts, and you couldn’t help but dress like greater lord rukkhadevata was described in the records you remembered reading as a child, just to spite the scholars even more.

probably for a case study of whatever the akademiya was planning. it was the perfect opportunity to show those arrogant scholars at least a glimpse of the wonders of the performing arts, and you couldn’t help but dress like greater lord rukkhadevata was described in the records you remembered reading as a child, just to spite the scholars even more. 

you winked at your musician, a teenage boy who held the same spite for the akademiya you did, starting your movements as soon as the sounds of the flute reached your ears. the flowing white sleeves and your long white and green skirt created a beautiful sight alongside the choreography nilou helped you to come up with, and the crowd’s cheers and boos didn’t reach your ears. whenever you were dancing, the outside world was shut down, your senses completely enveloped by the surrounding music. you moved as if you were made of water, a delicacy never seen before in the way your body spins. 

your eyes were kept close, as you didn’t wish for an unpleasant view to take your focus away. performing in the open was more difficult than in the grand bazaar — people there, at least, were also enjoyers of the arts. however, you couldn’t just ignore the call to show more people how the arts were a form of wisdom, too. 

the music ended, as well as your dance, and you bowed gracefully while opening your eyes to scan the crowd, the boos louder than anything else. but what was supposed to be a swift escape from the scholars and a few guards your vision managed to spot, was cut by a strong hold in your arm, dragging you away from your makeshift stage. too shocked to do anything else, you let yourself be pulled away from the crowd of scholars, their screams now louder that you were in the middle of them.

“take away this scum from our city, scribe!” 

your eyes, that were cast down to your feet, widened at such words. scribe was the title your father had before he became a sage, and, even though it didn’t make sense being him the one who was dragging you, your heart still raced with fear. though, when you had enough courage to look properly at your captor when you were a few meters away from the scholars, it was someone who you never thought of seeing again. 

those blue eyes, shining with the same rage it shone years ago, still haunted your dreams whenever you closed your eyes. 

“let go of me, alhaitham!” you managed to say, besides the lump in your throat. 

it was strange to see him, almost ten years after you left your house. alhaitham changed, of course — he was taller and more muscular, and his face was more sharp than it was before, now the face of an adult rather than a teenager’s one. his hair remained the same almost, only a bit shorter, but his eyes were still the ones you remembered from your childhood. you never forgot the exact shade of blue of them, of how the colors merged to create his pupils. they were mesmerizing, but it seemed that they would never look down at you with love on them once more.

“what were you thinking, y/n?” his voice was quiet but demanding, yet he didn't lose his composure, acting as if the rage in his words was nothing. “dancing in front of a crowd of people who hate the arts?” his grip on your arm tightened, and you couldn't find the same comfort you did as a teenager in his presence. 

you were angry, far angrier than you originally thought you would be if you saw him again, and sad — even though your heart still beat only for him. “i would have escaped, scribe. like i always did.” venom laced his new title, something so familiar yet foreign. it didn't suit him. he wasn't supposed to follow in your father's footsteps, as if he had replaced his own daughter with her friend. “i had a plan that was ruined by you.”

if the bitterness in your voice affected him, he didn't let it show on his face — but his grip around your arms softened, and you took that as your cue to get away from his touch. his presence alone was too intoxicating, clouding your senses and messing with your better judgment. 

little did you know, but you had the same effect on him. 

his closed fists weren't because of his rage, but from his urge to hold you between his arms once more — to feel your skin against his fingertips, to run his fingers in your hair and kiss your forehead, to hold you against his chest and tell you how many nights he was kept awake thinking about you. alhaitham was a coward and he was aware of it, knowing you were residing at the grand bazaar and not setting foot in the place, afraid of seeing you in the arms of another with no thought of yours being about him, like all of his were about you. 

“and what were you going to do? run away from all those scholars who were clearly offended by your choice of clothing?” he barked back, watching your eyes roll and your arms crossing on your chest. you were beautiful, wearing what the scholars believed were greater lord rukkhadevata's clothes back when she was alive. the color complimented your skin, and the flowing sleeves and skirts made your movements more graceful than alhaitham remembered them to be.

you scoffed. he was just like all the scholars you grew up to hate, arrogant and too confident in his abilities, and it hurt your heart to reach such a conclusion — that your first love was an akademiya scum. “i will not tell you.” you turned your back to him, starting to walk back to where you were, hoping that alhaitham would leave you alone to return home. but, the heavy sounds of his boots were your clue that he wouldn't leave you to your own company. “just let me return home.” you voice was quiet and full of hurt, small, just like alhaitham remembered it to be when your father would scold you. 

and he hated the fact that he was the one making you feel like that. 

however, he couldn't say sorry and leave you alone — he finally saw you after years of earning for such a meeting to happen and, even though he'd never admit that, he wanted to spend more time with you and know everything that happened in the years you were apart. he could always rely on the akasha to know such information, but things appearing on his mind would never have the same effect as hearing your voice. “you're defenseless. if your father knows that i didn't protect you, i'm a dead man by tomorrow morning.”

his words took you by surprise. “he made you promise this years ago. i'm sure that now he will be delighted if something happens to me.” you bit the inside of your cheeks to prevent the tears in your lashes from falling down, your head turned to the side so he couldn't see them. talking about your father was still a delicate subject for you — as much as you wanted to hate him for all the wrongs he said for you when you were fifteen, the loving and caring father that he was until that day arrived still plagued your thoughts. 

alhaitham shrugged. “i don’t care about him, i care about the promise i made, and i will not go back on my word.” you didn’t notice when you both stopped walking, but the gloved hand on your face, wiping the tears away while obligating you to look directly at his eyes, made your body be plagued by shivers and your cheeks to flush in a bright red color. 

he was the same alhaitham of your memories, wasn't he? the caring and kind, sometimes a bit too blunt, boy that you met alongside kaveh when you two were exploring the forest — his eyes were still the same, and even though they were now with different emotions than in the last time you saw them, his words still had the same painful effect they did once. did he still think that of you? that you were useless and a fool, that you had thrown away the brightest of futures to a life that wasn't worth it. your brows furrowed, and you got away from his grasp, missing the way his eyes shone with hurt at your rejection of his affection. 

but he would fight for you and he would gain your trust again, and alhaitham didn't care for the time this would take. he just wanted you back where you belonged — between his arms and in his life. 

— 

he stayed true to his word, even if you didn't know about them. all you knew was that he became a constant presence in all your performances, whenever they would be. he was the first person you saw when you opened your eyes after dancing in the honor of the dendro archon, the first person that congratulated you or the person who led you to safety when you decided to perform in front of scholars. 

it was annoying, at the beginning. alhaitham always had a critic to say, either being something about the music or the lighting — or even your partners in the performance, especially if they were men, saying that they didn't let you shine like he knew you could alone — but you knew that was his way of complimenting you. he has always been like that, too logical to know how to say a kind word instead of what you should do to make your performance better in the next time. it was almost endearing how he noticed the small details about your dance, like the way your hands moved or the sound your bracelets made when you clapped your hands. 

you both were from different worlds, but different worlds that completed each other in ways you never thought it would. the arts and the runes were almost like oil and water, but you and alhaitham made them mix it perfectly.

he also always made sure he was the one who left you at your room's door, perhaps to know that you were indeed safe, and you made the mistake of asking alhaitham if he wanted to come inside the third time he did that. 

it was already late in the night when your performance ended, that time at the the neighborhood with nilou, and you tried to argue with him that you didn't need his protection — everyone in the neighborhood knew who you are, and you knew how to fight and knew how to use your pyro vision to burn those who tried to harass you. and as much as he knew that, being the first victim of your vision, he still wanted you at his side. the question left your lips before you could think of it, the gossip that such an action would bring in the inn and in the grand bazaar long gone in your head. just like he wanted to make sure of your safety, you also wanted to make sure of his, too. 

you only had one bed, of course, you room enough only to fit one person living there. and as much as he tried to argue with you to let him sleep on the floor, you almost tied his wrists to your bed frame so he could sleep there, knowing that he wasn’t someone who slept much due to the nature of his job in the akademiya. but it seemed that your warmth was enough to make the akademiya's scribe to give up — you both fell asleep with a pillow between your bodies, but you woke up with his strong arms caging you to his chest and his face nuzzled in your neck. 

you didn’t dare to move, of course. you couldn’t know how alhaitham’s reaction to such an outcome would be, and the shallow breaths leaving his nostrils were proof enough that he was indeed awake, probably enjoying the few minutes of peace you and your house were granting him. you just nuzzled back on him, hearing him sighing and a pair of lips ghosting your cheek before his warmth left your bed. you only opened your eyes when you heard him moving around your small home. a few words were shared before he left to do his job, a small sandwich in his hands and the promise of seeing you again — though it took one week before that, in a setting that you wished was just a nightmare. 

—

zubayr theater had a performance scheduled in the grand bazaar, something that was proposed by you and nilou to bring attention to the place and help the merchants — every time a performance was announced in the city, all the eyes were directed to where it would be. children and women were always more open to the job you and your peers did, always enchanted by the dance moves and theatrics your troupe had to offer, while men and members of the akademiya always looked down with frowns whenever they attended one. you were still warming nilou to the fact that whenever the akademiya members didn’t like it, it meant you were in the right way. 

though, however, you never expected to see your father in the crowd. 

alhaitham stood proud at his side, though you could see that he was rather uncomfortable — in the short months you spent in his company again since you ran away, you learned what his lack of expression meant. it was just a mask you knew he developed in the years of studying in the akademiya, meant to deceive his peers into thinking that he was above them all, but you could see just by the way his eyes flicked to your form now and then that he wished he was anywhere but near your father. you didn’t know what prompted him to feel such discomfort, wondering if your father was now something more than just a sage in the akademiya, but you knew that you would never know.

you didn’t want to know. 

you just trying to ignore his presence in the crowd, his clothes as a sage almost in discrepancy inside the grand bazaar, focusing on the character you needed to portray — as always, the role of greater lord rukkhadevata belonged to you, while nilou was the goddess of flowers. it was a play about the birth of lesser lord kusanali, something that had always been wrapped in mystery to the common folk, and a great source for writers to romanticize and actors to give life to their plays. you were glad you were able to raise curiosity in the hearts of people about the birth of their god, though many of them were still disappointed with the new dendro archon’s lack of great doings. 

the performance ended with a round of applause by those who enjoyed it, and some looks of disapproval by those who did not. your eyes scanned the crowd until they found alhaitham’s, but the familiar soft and warm gaze he gave you whenever you ended a play wasn’t there — instead, you were met with cold and calculating eyes, and you didn’t know if he was behaving like that because of your father’s presence or if he finally was persuaded into seeing that you both were from different worlds and how bad it was. 

you tried not to be disappointed, nor make the pain in your heart be known by your colleagues, brushing nilou’s worried words with anxiousness — you gave a quick explanation about your father being in the crowd, and she seemed to buy it being the reason for the sadness in your eyes. 

after speaking with a few of your admirers, you excused yourself, feigning a bit of tiredness due to the preparations for the performance, smiling at the sight of the merchant’s tents filled with people — they weren’t many, but it was more than you were used to seeing every day. it was such small actions that made everything worthy of it, from running away from the safety of your family and the future your father chose for you to joining a theater troupe and changing your life in a way you only used to dream about, because you were sure you would never be able to help people if you were in the akademiya. 

you sighed, hearing rushed voices near your home. you didn’t want to spy on them, but as you recognized the voices to belong to your father and alhaitham, your curiosity took the best of you, hiding between a tree and some brushes. 

“i hope you are pleased with my job, grand sage.” 

that piqued your interest, hearing alhaitham calling your father by such a title, though your heart fell to your stomach. as much as you wanted to stay there and listen, something inside you told you to just run away and be ignorant — after all, ignorance was a blessing — because if you stayed, you would be heartbroken. 

the voice inside you proved to be right, alongside your father’s words.

“i am, indeed, pleased with your job, scribe alhaitham.” azar’s voice was just exactly how you remember it to be when you were growing up, authoritative and unkind. “it is good to get data about those performancers.” they weren’t so close but not too far, and you feared that if you did any abrupt movement your hiding spot would be found — but your fists clenched anyway, anger boiling in your blood by hearing such words. “especially my daughter. i do not want her to disturb any of the students with her foolish ideals. now, because of your help, we can stop her whenever she tries anything.” 

you tried not to let the tears that were pooling in your eyes to fall and give them the joy of making you cry after such knowledge, but the sadness inside you was stronger than any other resolution you had. alhaitham was just using you? all the time you two spent together, laughing and rebuilding your friendship, all the soft glances during late nights when he had accompanied you home, and hands brushing your cheek whenever he put a strand behind your ear while whispering goodnight — everything was just a lie for him? just a way for him to gather information about you and your peers to put on that damned akasha, for azar and the other sages to use against you and the other artists? 

and you had fallen for it like a puppy. 

you thought your childhood crush was something reciprocated, you really did, opening yourself to him like you did to no other man in your life. 

“i just did it to protect you.” 

his voice took you from your thoughts, your fists still clenched and your nails now draining blood from your palms. how could he? how could he lie so bluntly to you, feigning concern about you? “don’t try to excuse yourself, scribe.” you turned around to meet his eyes, finding them not like you thought they would be — emotionless and even with a bit of mockery shining on them, but they were hurt. 

because alhaitham never saw you looking so hurt and angry, not at himself. 

“i do not want to see you ever again.” 

you left him in the middle of the street with those words, his eyes following your shaking form until you were inside the safety of your house. alhaitham knew that you wouldn’t take his actions well, but he hoped you would never find out what he was doing — because he was, indeed, protecting you. if you did another performance near the akademiya, or near students that would report back to the sages, you would be exiled to the desert just like an insane scholar, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything to save you from such a horrible fate. 

he sighed, starting to walk back in the familiar way to the akademiya, his heart the heaviest since you left him when you were teenagers. 

maybe he just needed to give you some time for yourself, while he pondered what he could do to make you forgive him. 

—

one month. 

one month since you last saw alhaitham, and you wished you could say that his actions made you hate him — but it didn’t. 

it took you a few days to be able to dance and act again, though your eyes always scanned the crowd in search of him. he was never there, and as much as you were the one who said you didn’t want to see him again, you were disappointed. if he did have feelings for you, would he really give up on you like that? it was beyond frustrating what you were feeling, because you couldn’t understand him or his actions — he really thought you would be fine with him using you to gather information for the akademiya, even if it was to protect yourself from the archons’ know what? 

and now he just gave up. why wasn't he fighting for you? 

or maybe you were wrong, again. maybe he didn’t have feelings for you like you thought he did, and he was really just using you and all the little signals were just a play. if that was the truth, he was a better actor than most people you knew — better than yourself. you would never be able to pretend to have feelings for someone if it wasn’t in a play and you weren’t a character. 

as much as you tried to not let your feelings interfere with your everyday life, almost everyone in the grand bazaar noticed that something was wrong. nilou was the first one, the first to notice how puffy and red your eyes were from crying the whole night after the incident with your father and him. though you didn't have the courage to tell her what happened — after all, the dreamy eyes she had whenever you and alhaitham were around, perhaps imagining having a lover like him, didn't pass unnoticed by you — she still knew something happened between the two of you, always offering her support when you needed it. the others were mostly like her, though not as close to you to express their worry verbally. 

you lived your life the same it was before you met alhaitham after all those years, though it was harder now. before, his rejection to your young love was just a ghost, something that you would never know — now, however, it was a tangible thing, a bitter taste in your mouth whenever you still searched for his presence in your crowds. 

you would never learn that oil and water would never mix perfectly, just like you would never learn you and alhaitham would never have meant to be. 

that was what kept your shattered heart together, the glue holding all the pieces as thin as the air, and such a fact you came to know when kaveh visited you on a rainy day. you weren't expecting his visit, of course, the day uneventful due to the weather. you were teaching a bunch of little girls some of your favorite dance moves after they came to you when you spotted a tuft of blonde hair adorned with a blue feather and a pair of red eyes that you would always remember as warm. 

though kaveh's reappearance didn't shake you up like alhaitham's, his words were far more worrisome.

after a long awaited shared hug between two old friends and some pleasantries coming from both of your mouths, kaveh broke the news, his red eyes shining with a worry you never saw before in them — in fact, you did, on the day you ran away from your father. “i know something happened between you and alhaitham.” he started, his hands on your shoulders holding you at your place.

“kaveh…” you tried, not wanting to hear anything about him. what was kaveh going to say to you? that he was miserable and not himself, because of something he did? it wasn’t fair to you. 

he sighed, already in tune with your mannerisms again — you always said you two were platonic soulmates, knowing everything about each other from the top to bottom, being able to communicate with just your eyes. “i’m not here to play his advocate, far from it. i do not know what happened, as he did not tell me, but,” his grip on your shoulders tightened a bit, as if he was trying to prepare you for what was coming. “he was assigned a mission by the sages almost a month ago. a very dangerous one that i was against him going, you see, but the whole situation with you probably made him more prone to accept it. and…” 

“...and?” you heart was beating fast inside your rib cage, faster than you ever remembered it beating. a lot of scenarios were playing in your head, and all of them were worse than the other. 

“and he was severely injured.” the world around you was spinning, as if the air wasn’t enough to make the blood go to your lungs, making everything dizzy — but you could see the worry on his face. as much as kaveh pretended to hate alhaitham, you knew that deep down he cared about him, and vice-versa. “he is alright now, y/n, he’s being treated in the akademiya’s infirmary now.” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, tears now glossing kaveh’s handsome features. 

“why are you telling me this?” such a question was eating you alive. you knew kaveh’s nature wasn’t a cruel one, but what he wanted to achieve with giving you this acknowledgement? 

“you’re still so impatient.” he chuckled, though it wasn’t filled with mirth like you remembered it to be. “alhaitham was probably going through some fever illusions and he… he kept calling in your name. in a pained way, saying that he couldn’t die before seeing you again.” you heart skipped a beat at your friend’s confession, even more tears glossing your vision now. alhaitham didn’t have this right, the right to break your heart and transform into dust and then made it whole again. 

you felt kaveh’s soft fingers caressing your cheeks, wiping the tears away, the beating of your heart more erratic than ever. “can i see him?” the question left your lips before you could think twice, the idea of him dying hurting more than your broken heart. 

kaveh laughed. “i was going to ask you that.” 

—

in the way to the akademiya, kaveh told you what happened. 

he narrated how he noticed something was off with alhaitham a day when he came back unexpectedly earlier to their house. he was used to finding his roommate with a permanent scowl on his face, but he seemed defeated — his scowl wasn’t the arrogant one that alhaitham always displayed on his face, but something akin to sadness and frustration. kaveh didn’t dare to ask what happened, already knowing what his friend was going to say, so he left the matter behind, deeming it to be problems in his job. during the week, alhaitham closed himself off in the house of daena, as if the books could cure whatever was making him so strange, until he came back home one day, gathering his essential things in a small bag and leaving for a confidential mission for the grand sage. 

kaveh only heard about alhaitham again two days ago, when he returned to their home bloodied and weak, and he took him to the infirmary — his wounds were more severely than kaveh thought they were, and while he was in the room to watch the amurta students taking care of him, he heard him muttering your name. 

“y/n… i can’t die… her… love… sorry… y/n…” those were the words kaveh told you alhaitham had whispered while he was in agony, probably delirious from either pain or fever. your heart broke even more knowing about this, your feet almost running straight to the infirmary, even though you didn’t know the way there — it wasn’t easy to sneak you in the akademiya, but the raining day meant that a lot of scholars weren’t lurking around, ready to see one of them with a performer from the grand bazaar, and you managed to infiltrate the place where all wisdom was created. 

kaveh led you to alhaitham’s room, in a wing full of patients who were labeled as having delicate cases, and you wondered what was the mission alhaitham agreed to go. did he went on it because he wanted, or because he was pressured to go? or he used this opportunity to forget about you, risking his life in the process? you couldn’t bear the idea of being the reason why he accepted such a dangerous mission and risked his life for nothing. 

but alhaitham was stubborn, and even if you asked, he would never tell you. 

parting ways with kaveh with a hug, you slowly entered the room your childhood friend was being treated in, careful to not make so much noise and awake him — kaveh told you he had been unconscious since he arrived, but you didn’t want to disturb him. what if he hated you now? what if he saw you as the culprit of the state he was in, and now was the one who didn’t want to see you? though his feverish words said otherwise, you were still nervous, like you felt whenever you were about to start a performance. 

the room was beautiful, just like everything in the akademiya, with a big window that you thought was supposed to make sunlight fill the room, and some medical instruments around it. but it was plain too, with white and green walls and a bed and some nightstand and a loveseat near the bed, probably for a companion. 

you made your way to the bed, your steps as light as a feather falling in the ground, afraid that you could awaken him and disturb his recovery. you just wanted to see him, see if he was well, and then leave — you didn’t know how your reaction would be if you saw him with open eyes, probably too overwhelming to see who just got away from lady death’s grasp.

alhiatham looked peaceful, you noticed as soon as you sat on the bed. 

he had no frown adorning his features, and he looked much more healthy than you thought he would — he wasn’t pale and his skin was glowing, even if his face had some small bruises which were decorating his handsome face with a tint of purple. he looked so young, just like the boy you had fallen in love while growing up, and it hurt. it hurt to see him like this and to think what your relationship became just because of the prejudice of your father and the scholars. 

you wanted nothing more than to caress his face and kiss his pain away and, before you could think straight, your fingers were already ghosting his cheekbones, going down to his lips and his bruises, feeling his warm skin underneath your fingertips and sighing contently feeling his breath tickling your skin. it was good to know that he was alive and well, and after making sure of that, you retracted your hand back to rest in your lap and knew you were ready to go back to the grand bazaar — would he come after you after his recovery? would he tell you what he was whispering in his agony? 

though, before you could leave his bed and the room, alhaitham’s hand grabbed yours, making a surprised gasp to leave your lips. 

“don’t go…” his voice was rough and raw, strange on his body after two days of not using it. “i do not know if this is a fever dream or not,” he opened his eyes, blinking it to make sure you weren’t a hallucination. “but don’t leave me again, y/n.” 

you smiled, a few tears going down on your cheeks. “i promise, alhaitham.” the hand that wasn’t intertwined with his cupped his cheek, and you leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his forehead. “go back to sleep, alright? i will be here when you wake up again.” 

he nodded, like a small child, closing his eyes again. 

—

alhaitham knew people from sumeru couldn’t dream, but why did your lips on his forehead felt so real? 

he groaned, the pain on his chest more than just a physical pain. it hurt to know that his brain and heart craved your presence so much that he dreamed about you — was the dendro archon giving him a bit of solace before he came to face the consequences of his actions? he knew he wasn’t supposed to fight a machine monster all by himself, even though he was strong enough to do so, but such a mechanical being wasn’t like the ones he faced before, and he needed to get that capsule of divine knowledge back. 

alhaitham thought that perhaps he could redeem himself in your eyes, if he managed to help sumeru and its people somehow.

he got the capsule back, but almost lost himself to it. he didn’t understand how he managed to arrive at his house before collapsing in pain and loss of blood, the journey home being filled with fever dreams of you and what could’ve happened between you both if he was more open about his feelings, if he wasn’t a coward and had fought for you. 

but now the past was in the past, and alhaitham couldn’t do anything to change. he could only bask in what his imagination could give him — the softness of your fingers on his face, the sweetest kiss of your lips and its warmth on his skin, the honey laced promise you made him. it would hurt more than any of his bruises the fact that he would wake up alone in such a cold room, with you being so far away from him. 

though the sound of footsteps gave him the idea he wasn’t alone. “close the curtains, kaveh, for the archon’s sake.” he muttered, turning around to not be graced with the sun rays on his face. 

the sound of a feminine giggle made him furrow his eyebrows, a sound so sweet that he was sure he was still in a fever dream — the last time he heard your giggles was a day before you discovered what he was doing, laughing at his complaints about kaveh. your smile and your laugh were his fuel to keep fighting that mechanical being, the idea of seeing you happy again enough for him to keep going. 

“if you want me to call kaveh, just say it.” you voice was laced with mirth, and a bit of concern, totally different from the cold and filled with rage tone you used the last time alhaitham saw you. it was almost comforting the way you seemed more at ease at his presence, though he knew he owed you an apology. 

he scoffed. “never.” he turned around once again, opening his eyes to find you sitting on the love seat near his bed. “hi.” he whispered while he watched you walking towards him, all the words dying on his throat at the sight of you. 

it was funny how he always had a witty remark to anything said to him, but never to you. your presence made his brain foggy and disoriented, all his thoughts revolving around you. he was just a useless star that couldn’t help but be attracted and circle around you, the sun, that gave warmth to everyone else. 

“hi.” you whispered back, your hands fumbling in your lap, as if you didn’t know what to do with them. “how are you feeling?” your voice had a tenderness that alhaitham knew he didn’t deserve coming from you. he’d never deserve your love or your kindness, something so pure and beautiful, even though you might think otherwise. 

he tried to chuckle, trying to ease the worry in your brow. “i’ve seen better days.” as much as he wanted to ask why and how you were there, alhaitham wasn’t brave enough to break the blissful bubble you both were in. he was afraid that his words would turn a switch inside you, that you would graze your eyes upon him with the same rage it was filled in the last time he saw you, that your fists would shake and your lip tremble with unshed tears — the love struck and kind look your eyes had was so much better than the fresh of you in his mind.

“i can imagine.” tentatively, you cupped his bruised cheek, fingers gently caressing his skin. he leaned into your touch, a relieved sigh leaving his lips at your display of affection — he was undeserving yes, but alhaitham was selfish and arrogant, and he would never back away from it. yet, the shadow of what happened and the questions from both of your hearts hovered above your forms. “i…” you seemed braver than him, trying to get the acknowledged that would soothe or break your heart even more, but alhaitham couldn’t let you be the one to start — he cut you by trying to get up, indulging your smaller hand on his, the bandages preventing your skin to touch, much to his chagrin. 

“let me speak first, y/n. i was the one at fault in the first place.” he watched as you nodded, body coming closer to him, your smell clouding his senses and the only thought in his head was kissing your lips until they were red and raw, seeing you beneath him with red cheeks and disheveled hair. “i know you do not believe me, but i was protecting you when giving information about your troupe to your father.” at the mention of the grand sage, your face became sour — though now more hurt than angered, and alhaitham knew such a change of feeling was good. “you were going to be exiled to the desert, my love.” the term of endearment didn’t go unnoticed by you, your cheeks becoming hot at the possessive form before it. 

you were his. 

“i was desperate. i had only found you after being an incognito in my life for almost ten years.” his grip on your hand tightened, and alhaitham sighed. “i’m not asking you to forgive me so easily, but do not look at me with that rage again.” he pleaded, bringing your hand to his mouth and kissing your knuckles, his warm lips caressing your skin as if he was worshiping a goddess. “my heart is yours to do whatever you want, and i will endure it, but don’t deny me seeing the love in your eyes be corrupted by such a horrible feeling.” 

alhaitham closed his eyes, taking your hand to rest over his chest, ready for your rejection. 

“why did you accept this mission?” your voice was quiet, and your words totally different from what his mind told him what they were going to be. “i thought… i thought you had only used me, alhaitham.” your reveal wasn’t a total surprise for him, because he knew his actions were misleading. 

“i guess i just wanted to forget what i made you feel.” he admitted, arms coming to wrap around you and bring your body to rest on his chest. it hurt, because his wounds were still fresh, but that was where you belonged. you fitted perfectly between his arms, your face hid in the warmth of his neck and his head resting above yours, your bodies almost melting into each other and becoming one. 

his arms tightened around your form when he felt your body shake and his neck wet by your tears. he didn’t try to pry, though his heart ached with your quiet sobs, but he knew you would talk when you were ready — the only thing he could offer now was physical comfort, and even though alhaitham thought he was the worst person to give any kind of comfort, but it was you. you always made his best traits to shine, and the worst ones to become less bad.

after some time, your sobs quieted down and your body stopped to shake, and your voice filled his ears. “you really hurt me, alhaitham.” you were using a scolding tone, as if he had done something bad but something redeemable. “i’ve been in love with you since we were children, and you doing that…” 

“you were in love with me since we were children?” his shocked voice made you giggle, your body adjusting so you were straddling him, hands cupping his cheeks and noses touching. alhaitham’s cheek were tinted with red, a sight that you never saw before but something so mesmerizing that you wanted it belonged to eternity — his eyes were lidded, pupils wide with a mix of love and lust, his hand gripping your hips to bring you even closer to you. 

another giggle left your lips when he kissed a spot near your lips. “for being the akademiya’s scribe, you’re a bit stupid, my beloved.” you managed to say before his lips were attacking yours, in a kiss that — even though it was delayed for ten years — was the testimony of his endless love for you.