[10:13]

back from the dead!

note from kin: the gif for this one’s probably my favourite one so far, but i just know that the quality is going to get nerfed because everyone’s so small

also, just in case it wasn’t obvious, the prompt here is that that you ‘died’ one way or another but then you come back because (plot twist) you didn’t actually die - though it’s a bit different in albedo’s case

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn! reader, diluc, kaeya, childe, zhongli, xiao, venti, albedo, a couple of other mentioned characters

pairing(s): diluc/reader, kaeya/reader, childe/reader, zhongli/reader, xiao/reader, venti/reader, albedo/reader

warning(s): death (obviously), blood/injury, implied suicidal thoughts

genre: angst

diluc:

diluc has many feelings about this situation, the main one being: why

why would you do this to him? do you enjoy torturing him? is that it?

no, that’s not fair... he knows you didn’t mean to make everyone think you’d up and died on them

but still. two weeks. two ENTIRE weeks he’d thought you were gone

it had been a simple trek to dragonspine, and you’d reassured him that you’d be fine without him, so he’d stayed behind to deal with business, while you put up a request for some volunteers from the adventurer’s guild to come with you

in the end, a team of five left mondstadt city. only four came back.

three days after you left, diluc opened the door of dawn winery to see those four ghostly, stricken faces staring back at him. not a word was said for a good minute, but in that moment, he already knew what news they were about to deliver

he stopped them before they could recount the details of your inability to outrun the avalanche and subsequent fall. his mind had already laid out every agonising moment for him, from your last thoughts to your last breath - did you think of him? did you call for him, hoping against all hope that he would save you? did you die waiting for a hero that never came?

the next day, he joined the volunteers who set out to recover your body. if any of them noticed the lonely figure trailing behind them, head lowered and dragging his feet as if the weight of the world had fallen on his shoulder, they didn’t say a word

he dug first with his weapon, igniting the metal with his pyro vision so that it cut through the snow easily, and when that became too heavy for his grief-exhausted arms to bear, he dropped it and dug with his hands instead, refusing to give up, even when the cold seeped through his gloves and bit into his hands until the skin began to crack and bleed

but, in the end, they could only bury an empty casket. despite all of his efforts, they couldn’t find your body.

he chooses a quiet place by the vineyards of dawn winery and marks the grave with a simple headstone, vowing that he’ll come by every day to polish it - even when he’s old and grey, and the flowers have stopped springing up in the grass

and, of course, THAT’S when you finally decide to show up

“what’s with the long face?”

there you stand, in the flesh, perfectly healthy if not a little malnourished, still dressed in the now rather tattered clothes that you set out in, and, most importantly, alive

he can hardly believe it. in fact, he doesn’t believe it for a good moment or two; he turns away, blinking hard as frustrated tears threaten to running down his face. surely he can’t be so grief-stricken that he’s started hallucinating?

but then you walk up to him and set a hand on his arm, a comforting and wonderfully solid hand, and the warmth in your voice as you ask him what’s wrong is too true to life, too inimitable to be an illusion. it’s you, and you’re alive!

he saves the questions for later and wastes no time in pulling you to himself, sinking to the ground as his legs finally give out beneath him. you wrap your arms around him, and he’s dimly aware of you speaking, but he’s so awash with his own relief and unadulterated joy that he can’t hear anything but the ecstatic thumping of his own heart

these two weeks without you have been absolute hell. he never wants to feel as he did again. he never wants to lose you again - he can’t lose you again

because this time, at least, you came back. if you hadn’t, and if in the future, you don’t… well, diluc doesn’t know what he’d become

for now, though, he holds you close. he’ll worry about it tomorrow - and tomorrow can wait. it owes him this much.

kaeya:

when you suddenly show up, dripping wet and looking remarkably like you’ve spending the past few days being pickled in brine, to your own graveside wake, kaeya is absolutely beside himself

he’d rather been under the impression that you were dead. deceased. completely gone from this mortal coil.

after all, who could survive being dragged into the waters of qingce by an oceanid? who could suddenly resurface perfectly intact after being trapped under the surface of the water for over four hours?

you, apparently. and kaeya isn’t sure whether he should be throwing himself at you in joy, weeping out of pure relief, or giving you the hardest punch he can for scaring him like that

five hours he’d waited by the lake’s edge, freezing paths over the dark water in hopes that he might catch sight of you in those depths if he went further out, wandering all the way around the lake’s border and then back again, hoping against all hope that you might have washed up on the shore

he knew, though, deep down, that there was no point. you were doomed as soon as he let you slip under the surface.

he’d stayed in the area for the next few days, always finding himself wandering back to the lake, no matter how much he tried to focus on exploring the new landscapes, hoping against all hope that he might see you again

but, of course, he didn’t, and so he returned to mondstadt with a piece of himself missing - a piece of himself that, though he denied it, died as soon as he watched you disappear into the water

no one was willing to dive into that lake to retrieve your body - if there was even a body to retrieve. kaeya tried to return to qingce to do it himself, but jean wouldn’t even let him out of the city.

“i can’t let you go,” she’d said impassively, steeling herself against kaeya’s pathetic, pleading gaze. “it’s suicide.”

kaeya had stared back at her, and his reaction would stay with her for the rest of her life.

“so what?”

in the end, kaeya hadn’t been allowed to journey back to qingce, and the funeral was held without a body

at which point you suddenly walked right up to the morose procession and enquired, loudly, as to whose funeral it was

the brief silence that follows is so palpable that you could probably smash it with a hammer

kaeya's completely frozen on the spot, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as your other friends converge on you, and you disappear under a multitude of tearful hugs for the next five minutes. he stays there, unmoving.

it’s only once the two of you are alone in that deathly-quiet graveyard that kaeya finally lets himself break down. his entire body is trembling as he sinks to his knees right there on the grass, hands reaching up and tangling in his hair as he attempts to come to terms with the tumultuous feelings threatening to overflow from inside him

you kneel in front of him, opening your arms silently, and he can only fall forward into your embrace, burying his face in your shoulder and unable to stifle a sob of pure relief that you’re here, you’re alive, he didn't fail you after all

he tries to apologise for not being able to stop you from going under in the first place, for not being able to save you, for not going back for you, but you refuse to let him apologise for something that wasn’t under his control. you just hug him tighter and promise in whisper that he did all he could, and that you’ll never leave him like that again

eventually, the two of you will have to separate, but right now kaeya can’t bring himself to let him go - not when, mere hours ago, he’d thought he’d never be able to hold you like this again

how much time do you pass like this? neither you nor kaeya know. only the gravestones surrounding you like stone sentinels do - and only they will ever know.

childe:

it’s something he’s heard stories about plenty of times: a lover goes out to war, or to call on a relative, or to sell vegetables at a market in the city, and never returns. but that’s all it’s been to him - a story. he’d always thought of it as something that happened to other people, never something that could happen to him

but it has, and now he thinks he understands why, even in old age, those people’s faces still seem haunted by that loss - indeed, the moment he found your abandoned sword half-buried on one of the beaches of guyun stone forest is one that’ll probably be burnt into his memory forever

a tiny part of him had still clung to the hope that you were alive out there somewhere, but it had already been days since you were first pronounced missing, and you’d never leave your weapon behind - after all, you were visionless. you had no way of defending yourself properly without it.

childe stayed on that beach for a long time. he still doesn’t know how long exactly, but it was long enough for the sun to dip beneath the horizon and for the waves to start lapping impatiently at his boots.

when he did leave, he took your sword with him. but he didn’t bury it just yet - because he refused to let go of that shred of hope

he employed himself for the next few days with looking for any sign of you - day and night, with barely any time to eat or sleep, chasing every lead he could find, no matter how small

but he found nothing, despite pulling out every single desperate tactic he could think of. he began to think that maybe he never would.

eventually, he set off for your favourite spot on mount tianheng, beneath a tree on one of the peaks, but he still couldn’t bring himself to bury your sword there

so, instead, he stabbed the blade into the ground, anchoring it firmly in the dirt - and, after a moment, stabbed one of his own arrows into the ground beside it. he told himself that this arrow would protect your sword as he should have protected you in the first place.

now, five days later, however, when he arrives at that spot to have a quiet moment to himself, the sword is gone. so is the arrow. all that remains of them are two neat little slots in the ground where they’d been stuck

his first thought is that they’ve been stolen, and he feels an immeasurable kind of rage begin to bubble at the pit of stomach - but then he hears a sharp little whizz, and the arrow he’d stuck beneath your sword comes flying out of nowhere and buries itself in the dirt by his feet.

he looks up, and there you are. sitting on a lower branch of the tree, sword at your hip where it always is, wearing that smile that he adores so much.

you hop down, and he stares at you in sheer shock for a moment. finally, he takes two, deliberate steps forward, and pulls you into a silent embrace.

there are no words, no tears, barely even a sound, but the way that his body trembles in your arms tells you all that you need to know.

a long while later, the two of you finally pull apart, and he sniffs bravely, then says with some of his usual bravado, “well, you have to tell me all about what happened now.”

and that’s the end of that - or so you think

for weeks afterwards, childe finds himself lying awake into the small hours of the morning, unable to go to sleep. he’s scared - no, terrified that, if he closes his eyes, you won’t be there when he opens them again

it’s almost funny, to be honest - first, you taught him love, and now you’ve taught him fear

but, in a way, he’s grateful that he’s learned to feel it - because, as long as this fear persists, he’ll be able to protect you with all he’s got.

zhongli:

it must have happened during osial’s attack, but he didn’t find out until an entire week after the fact

zhongli hadn’t dwelt on the incident for long, selfishly indulging in the freedom of a life free of an archon’s responsibilities, completely unaware of what had happened to you

he did of course wonder why you hadn’t come to see him, feeling almost a little hurt, but he reassured himself with the thought that you were probably busy helping out around the city - becuase, despite the traveller, adepti, and qixing’s best efforts, liyue harbour did sustain a fair bit of damage from the whole ordeal

but then he’d spotted a poster pinned up beside one asking after the traveller’s missing twin - a poster that, somehow, he’d completely missed for the past few days (or was he simply refusing to see it?)

your face smiles at him from the yellowing paper, and the single word stamped above your head seems to echo around him

how had he not realised that you were missing for an entire week? had he really been so idiotic as to think it wasn’t odd that he hadn’t seen you on the streets at all?

or did he realise the truth when you didn’t return to him as soon as the battle was over? was he simply refusing to accept it until this moment?

he doesn’t know. to be honest, he doesn’t care.

two days later, your posters start disappearing. no announcement comes, but the absence says two words loud and clear - ‘presumed dead’.

he finds it impossible to enjoy his freedom now, when every smiling face on liyue harbour reminds him of you in the most damning way possible

the reflection of his eyes in the tea in the bottom of his cup seems to warp into your own eyes, glaring back at him accusingly, asking, why did you let me die?

because - and this is the worst part of it all - zhongli only has himself to blame for all of this

none of this would have happened if he hadn’t made that deal with the fatui. osial only rose again because zhongli allowed those harbingers to do what they did.

he lingers for a long while over this, but in the end, there are only two things he can do. everything is over; he can either continue to regret, or move on.

he decides to light some incense for you, and sets out to buy some from a local merchant

and it’s there, as he attempts to make sense of the multitude of numbers being thrown at him, that he suddenly sees your face amidst the crowd milling around the harbour

that isn’t anything out of the ordinary anymore, but then he blinks and looks again, and you don’t swim out of view or fade away; you’re still very much there, wearing a faintly annoyed expression as the crowd around you continues to buffet you back and forth

zhongli makes a decision in a split second, abandoning the incense in the surprise merchant’s hands and charging after you, calling your name with barely-disguised desperation - and you barely have time to turn around before he’s crashing into you at such a speed that the two of you go toppling clean over

the people around scatter, some simply shaking their heads at the disturbance and others standing in shock at the sight of such a man behaving like this, but zhongli can’t be bothered to keep up his image at a moment like this

“you’re alive,” he whispers, indescribable joy rising in his chest when you laugh in reply. he didn’t think he’d hear that sound ever again.

the two of you must be a sight, tangled together and half-lying in the middle in th middle of the street. it’s the sort of behaviour that one would associate with lovesick teens, not the refined gentleman of a god that he is

then again, he can’t really help it. this is just the sort of thing you do to him - and he’s absolutely fine with it

xiao:

he should've known better than to let you see him in the first place, let alone get attached enough to keep allowing you to meet him over and over again

bad luck follows xiao around like a shadow, and it isn’t picky about who it affects

still, he did it anyway - he continued appearing to you whenever you asked him to

it was idiocy - though others might have called it love. for xiao, there isn’t really a difference - because only a fool would think they were deserving of love after committing the crimes that he had.

at first, you were never in danger when you called his name. he came anyway, of course - but then, one day, you were in danger, and he didn’t, not until it was already too late

the two of you hadn’t even been that far apart - he had perched atop one of the stone pillars in huaguang stone forest, and you’d been nearby on mount hulao. if only he’d responded as soon as you’d called, he would’ve gotten there on time.

but he was selfish, and chose to stay there on the pillar for a few moments longer, wanting just another minute to quiet contemplation before he joined you on the mountain

and, as the most damning torture of all, fate had you fall just as he landed on the mountain. he could only watch as you disappeared under the geovishap’s gargantuan claws

the minutes after that are unclear. all he remembered afterwards was the sure weight of his spear in his hands, the wind whipping against his face as he moved faster than he ever had before, the burn of tears in his eyes

xiao had thought that he’d long since lost the ability to cry. how cruel it was that this was how he learnt that he hadn’t.

when he became fully conscious of his surroundings again, the geovishap was stone dead, and you were nowhere to be seen.

still delirious (with grief or anger he didn’t know), xiao fled from the mountain, leaving behind the geovishap’s corpse, and a lump of amber that hadn't been there before

he didn’t know where he was going, only that he was running - and maybe, if he ran fast and hard enough, he’d be able to run straight out of his nightmare, and wake to find you alive on the other side

but, of course, he wasn’t dreaming, and he couldn’t wake up if he wasn’t asleep in the first place

which brings us to now. the last days since the incident have passed in a grey blur, and the fog is finally starting to lift enough from xiao’s mind for him to make a realisation

the amber on mount hulao - would it be too presumptuous to hope that his fellow adepti knew of his bond with you, and protected you where he couldn’t? he almost dares not to hope, but…

he moves faster than the wind itself, and he’s touching down at the spot before he’s even fully aware of it, the geovishap’s body has already melted away into the grass, leaving only the lump of amber that he’d somehow not taken account when he left all those days ago

breath held in anticipation, he raises his spear, and strikes the amber with the sharp edge of the blade. several shards splinter away; he spots something familiar within the orange resin

he works feverishly, and soon enough the last of the amber falls away, revealing you, in perfect health, and a little annoyed by the fact that he took this long to get you out

you can’t really stay mad at him for long, though, not with him looking at you like that, eyes wide and almost wondering

xiao surprises both you and himself by abruptly throwing his arms around you. he’s never initiated contact with you before, and you yourself have never gone beyond just patting his arm

it feels nice, he decides. he can only thank the universe - and his fellow adepti - for the fact that he’s able to lose himself in your embrace like this.

venti:

he heard the news one late afternoon, as he stood playing through his usual repertoire beneath the statue outside the cathedral

he’d picked up on your name amidst a conversation between two people passing by, and while his outward demeanour didn’t give anything away, he was listening intently almost immediately

“...don’t know what happened, but they found their boat by starsnatch cliff this morning. no body or anything, though.”

“talk about unlucky… they must have gotten caught in a storm or something.”

that was all venti managed hear before the two move out of earshot, but it was enough to shake him right to the core. his fingers stumbled on the strings of his lyre, so tense that he accidentally snapped a string

the crowd started murmuring amongst each other as he slowly lowered the instrument, face frozen and eyes wide. then he suddenly turned and sprinted in the direction of the knights of favonius’s headquarters, ignoring the loud complaints coming from his audience

he burst into the building without bothering to wait for approval from the guards outside, and they probably would have arrested him if lisa hadn’t walked out of the library at that moment and stopped them

venti practically dropped to her feet, begging her to tell him what happened - surely what he heard wasn’t true?

but lisa only shook her head and offered to bring venti to the site of your wrecked ship. she didn’t know either

the knights escorting the librarian to starsnatch cliff didn’t say anything about the bard following them, but the pitying looks they shot him said it all. they didn’t think there was a chance that you had survived.

in the end, venti couldn’t bring himself to face the wreckage - because he knew he would lose all hope if he did

he spends the next five days sitting at the precipice of starsnatch cliff, gazing out across the endless seas, desperately wishing that he might see the shape of a raft or a boat riding the distant waves. several times he falls asleep and dreams that your figure was sailing back to him from the fog, only to wake to see nothing but empty horizons again, and no amount of wind can swipe away his bitter tears then

then, on the evening of the fifth day, he suddenly sees something - a lone figure seemingly stumbling across the surface of the water itself, lurching every now and then

it’s been a long time since he’s used his powers like this, and his abilities have waned since the loss of his gnosis, but now he’s able to spur himself to his feet, gathering masses of winds beneath him, and he flies straight for the figure with wild abandon

and - joy of all joys - it’s you!

ice crackles from your feet with each, heaving step you take, and he realises that you’re clutching a blue-glowing stone in one hand

in that moment, venti forgets all enmity between him and tsaritsa, and thanks her with all his heart for granting you a vision

he swoops down and catches you in his arms, and the wind follows in his sheer joy, sending the two of you tumbling this way and that, before finally depositing you gently on the shore, mere metres away from your wrecked ship

venti doesn’t even speak for a good while, just clings to you desperately and refuses to let go for even a moment, and somehow that’s even worse than if he’d been in floods of tears instead

you just hold him in return, trying to catch your breath, and the two of you end up falling asleep right there and then, despite how uncomfortable it is there in the sand

venti’s been all cried-out for hours now, and your limbs are so heavy with fatigue that you can barely move, so there the two of you stay, huddled together like children

venti has already loved and lost once before, and that had been enough to think he would never love again. then you came along, and he loved, and lost again, but this time you came back to him, and for that he will always be endlessly grateful

albedo:

the two of you had been out on an impromptu resource-gathering expedition (read: secret date) on wuwang hill. it was your first time in liyue, so you were practically buzzing with excitement, and albedo felt more content than ever with watching your face light up at every new thing you saw

but the evening had quickly soured when the two of you came across a gang of treasure hoarders taunting an injured fox

albedo attempted to calm you down, wanting to deal with the situation as diplomatically as possible, but you’d been positively beside yourself, and flew forwards, aiming a punch at the leader of the group

somehow you managed to punch him hard enough to knock several teeth out of his mouth, and as he stumbled backwards with a yell of agony, the rest of the treasure hoarders turned on you as well

albedo couldn’t very well leave you to fight them off on your own (and, to be honest, he didn’t think very highly of the hoarders’ behaviour thus far), and so the two of you stood back to back, fending off all sorts of projectiles and punches being aimed at you

but neither of you were fighting to kill, only to defend and possibly incapacitate, so the things the two of you could do were limited. albedo imprisoned a decent number of them in geo-produced prisons, but they just kept coming - it was like two arrived to replace each one you knocked down

soon enough the two of you were cornered right on the edge of the hill, and, noting the dizzying fall behind, albedo turned to tell you that the two of you should retreat

everything that happened next seemed to be in slow motion. you turned to look at him, stance wavering for just the briefest of seconds - and a stray thrown blade struck you directly in the chest

in that moment, as you teetered on the edge, eyes wide and seemingly staring directly into his, everything around him seemed to drop into darkness

everything came to a standstill as you fell. the treasure hoarder that threw the blade stood there in shock, and as albedo stood there, frozen in horrified disbelief, his friends quickly seized him by the arm and ran for it

a wise choice - because, if they’d still been there when albedo suddenly came to, they probably wouldn’t have survived the encounter

instead, with no one around to take his anger out on, albedo could only hurry to find you down below on the rocks, using his geo vision to create steps along the steep cliff face

you aren’t breathing when he finally gets to you.

time seems to slow down. he sits there beside you for what feels like an eternity, until the sun has gone down and the blue sky is replaced with a carpet of darkness and stars

it’s beautiful, but he can’t bring himself to look at it. as far as he's concerned, the stars went out the moment he watched you fall, and he has no interest in looking at a dead sky

then, suddenly, he realises something. he doesn’t have medical training, now has he ever learnt to heal… but that doesn’t mean he can’t fix you in other ways

he knows that he doesn’t have the strength to carry you all the way to his laboratory in dragonspine, but he brings plenty of things everywhere with him - and there are plenty of other methods he can employ as well

taboo things, maybe, things that he never would have even thought to try on any other occasion - but he’s desperate, and there is no such thing as too far when it comes to you

he works with almost maniacal fervour, trying one thing after another and another, refusing to let himself rest for even a moment - because each passing minute marks even more distance between the two of you, and he cannot, will not let you drift out of his reach

hours later, the stars have disappeared again, and you open your eyes to see albedo gazing down at you with a faint smile.

---

i forgot to post this

i used that really popular Pinterest reference with the guy kissing someones hand

love u jack

ejp !! (and iizuna)

miya atsumu x reader, 2k

SUMMARY: osamu asks if you ever get jealous when people flirt with atsumu.

A/N: holding my hands up to say that yes i love osamu more. i DO. but atsumu has been wreaking havoc in my mind lately…… so. here we are. this is very sappy if i’m being Real with you. also sel this is for u and the unfortunate realisations we have both come to — godbless.

The street lights outside blink an ugly shade of yellow as the sun finally makes way for the moon.

Osamu flips the sign on the front door to closed before taking a seat in front of you.

If your schedule hadn’t been so hectic this week, you’d be at the stadium watching the Black Jackals match in real time and celebrating their win.

Knowing Atsumu, you would most definitely be donning his jersey in the crowd as you cheered. He gets pouty if you don’t, and you’ve learned to pick your battles over the years.

Instead, it’s 8pm and you’ve made yourself comfortable in an empty booth at Onigiri Miya, eyes focused on the screen where it hangs on the wall.

“It’s miraculous you aren’t worried, honestly,” Osamu said, the words slurred through his full mouth. You hum absentmindedly, eyes never leaving the tv screen.

He only gestured at the television, where Atsumu was doing an interview post match and looking particularly handsome despite the sweat dripping down his face. He was nodding, smiling, speaking. The usual motions. There was a woman next to him. You weren’t really looking at her. Atsumu laughed, tipping his head back and exposing the long line of his neck, and you found that infinitely more interesting.

“Worried about all that,” Osamu said. His arm was still aloft, making a motion at the woman interviewing his twin, and when you humoured him to take a look, you found said woman already looking at Atsumu.

“She’s looking at him because he’s speaking,” you pointed out.

Osamu made a face. “Yeah, duh, I know, but like. You know what I mean.” he took a sip of his drink, offering it to you. You took it. “Tsumu getting flirted with at work.”

“Ah,” you said.

He had gotten lemonade, which was sweet of him. You liked lemonade a lot more than he did. "It's been happening since high school. I'm kind of used to it by now."

There was something skeptical in the slant of Osamu’s brow. "He's getting hit on a lot more now though."

You hummed again. You knew that, too. Atsumu had complained about it more than once.

But you reckoned that it was just the natural progression of things. Atsumu had always been attractive, had always been the kind of good-looking that made you question whether your eyes were working correctly, but then he got older.

Broader. More muscular. More confident.

You were willing to bet that it was the confidence that did it more than anything.

Once, when they were all drunk out of their minds, Suna had remarked that Atsumu walked like he "owned fifteen different properties both in Japan and overseas", and you had nearly peed yourself laughing at how ridiculously spot-on it was.

"It doesn't bother me," you said, laughing a little when Osamu's face went from lightly skeptical to completely unconvinced. "Honestly! It really doesn't!"

"Not that I'm saying you have reason to be worried," Osamu began, "but I will never let you forget how fucking sulky you got back then, especially because I was the sorry ass in charge of making sure you cheered up."

You couldn't even defend yourself, but you were going to try to anyway. "I wasn't that bad."

Osamu looked at you with a flat expression. "You at some point said, and I quote, ‘Samu, I am never going to find love ever again,' after a reporter asked for his number."

You screeched, hitting his shoulder and whining when he dodged easily. "Why do you even remember that? Fucking weirdo."

"How else am I gonna keep you under control if not through blackmail?" Osamu said, dodging again when you tried for another hit. "It's your own goddamn fault that you keep giving me ammunition."

"Fuck off, it was different back then. I was in denial and pining over my stupid crush," you sniffed, settling more into the seat and stealing the last of the lemonade in indignation.

"You're still very much in denial and pining," Osamu pointed out. "I don't even fucking know how and why you're still pining because you're actually dating him now."

"Rich coming from you. How long did it take you to ask your girlfriend out again? Pot and kettle or however the saying goes."

Osamu scowled, "I am nowhere near as bad as you.”

"You Libra placements and your denial..."

"Letting you get into astrology is a mistake I will never recover from."

"Please, and when you want me to look at your compatibility chart again-"

Osamu clamped a hand over your mouth, shushing you desperately. "What the fuck."

"The blackmailing is mutual," you said, shoving him off of you. "Equal exchange, I give half of my humiliation to you, you give half of yours to me."

"This isn't equivalent, you gave me all of your embarrassment and I've barely done anything— don't look at me like that."

You only raised an eyebrow further.

"Shut the fuck up."

"I'm not saying anything?"

"You're loud even when you're quiet."

You both give it a break for a while, going back to eating and watching. There was a different player on screen now, one that you’re pretty sure you’ve met before but can’t place the name. Osamu seems to know since he’s listening intently.

Sakusa shows up next, followed by Hinata and Bokuto before it pans back to the whole team and you catch sight of Atsumu again, this time with another interviewer who was standing too close for comfort. At the sight of this exchange, Osamu turns to you again.

"You're really not worried? Like, seriously?" he asked, quieter this time, not a single trace of teasing in his voice.

You were touched with how concerned he was. For all of his complaining, he was invested in your happiness, seemingly more so than his own actual brother.

"Seriously," you repeated. "I'm not worried. Genuinely.”

.

.

.

You were already in bed when Atsumu trudged through the door. Your boyfriend had stopped in place as he found you, and it made you smile, a little helpless, and extend a hand.

"Hi," you said. He didn't move. "You okay?"

"Sorry," he said, rubbing at his eyes and shrugging off his bag. "I just have to make sure I'm not dreaming and that there really is the most gorgeous person on earth in my bed right now."

"Oh fuck off," you said, voice choked and close to a wail. Atsumu only grinned, laughing when you covered your face with your arms.

"Babeee," he whined, ambling over to the bed to plop himself on top of you. "Hey, come on." He reached up to peel your arms away, and the look on his face was something between complete rapture and excitement. He looked at you like that a lot.

"Hi there," Atsumu said, smile wide enough to break his face, and you could never in your life resist it.

"Hi there," you repeated. Your hands went to the back of his neck to tug him down, and he was more than happy to come closer. You hadn't kissed since this morning, and it was almost midnight now. You had to make up for lost time.

"You okay?" you asked again when you came up for air eventually. Atsumu's face was in your neck, his mouth open and sweet against your skin, tongue and teeth and lips laving over the spot where your pulse roared. You kept shivering at each little nip and suck. You could feel Atsumu smiling. You didn't know whether to kiss him again or hit him.

"I'm fine," he mumbled. He pressed another kiss near your collarbone. "Have you now. I'm all good."

You huffed a little laugh through your nose. "My baby’s exhausted?"

You felt more then saw the small shudder that went through his body and hid your smile by putting your face in his hair. He smelled like lavender— the new cologne you had bought him a few weeks ago.

"Yeah," Atsumu said, the words all breathy and sighed-through and it made another shiver hiss through you, fluttery and warm and all-consuming. "Your baby’s exhausted."

"You showered before you got home?" you asked. Atsumu's skin felt clean under your fingers, none of the tackiness of sweat from playing a game left behind.

He made a small noise, petulant, but relented when you wouldn't stop pinching his cheeks.

"Come up, big baby, I just wanna see you— there you are." you smiled, watched as he mirrored it. You ran your thumbs over the highs of Atsumu's cheekbones, over his eyebrows. He closed his eyes, humming as you tipped his face this way and that. His ears were red under all of your careful attention. His ears always did that. You’ve been dating for almost two years.

You were kind of thrilled.

"Look at you," you said, low and hushed and unabashedly awed.

There was a slice of moonlight that had slipped through the curtains, and it caught the side of Atsumu's face— you had spent a lot of time looking at him. Through the years spent as a young girl with a crush so huge it felt world-ending, through the time spent before you got together, carrying feelings under your tongue and biting down in the hopes it wouldn't bleed through your words.

Until now— still as lovestruck as the day you met him but more settled now, more complete, because to love someone as they are and not as they show you is to love them whole— you looked at Atsumu. Sometimes you were sure that you knew Atsumu's face better than your own.

Even back then, when you were just the nebulous idea of friends, studying Atsumu never felt like you were studying a stranger.

You had spent a lot of time looking at him, but even still there were moments where he would turn, or his profile would catch the light differently, or he'd look at you the way he did now, and you’d be overwhelmed all over again.”

"You're so pretty," you said, smiling as red bloomed, ruddy and bright, across the planes of Atsumu's face.

"Baby’s so pretty. Stunning."

"Stop," he whined, trying to get out of your grip, but you knew that whenever your boyfriend said 'stop' he really meant 'keep going'.

"Prettiest boy in the world," you breathed, giggling when Atsumu could only whine again, his face crumpling in embarrassment. "Pretty pretty pretty.”

"That's you," Atsumu said, leaning up a little to press a kiss to your forehead. "The prettiest person in the world is you."

"Hmm, still think it's you," you said, and watched as the flush spread to his neck, over his shoulders, peaches over cream.

It still shocked you sometimes, how well you can read each tick and shift in his expression. How the little twitch to his upper lip meant that he wanted to kiss you, how his eyes would go dark whenever you called him beautiful.

How there was a certain smile that he seemed to save for no one else but you. It sat slightly goofy on his face, crooked and dimpled, a tad bit too human to be shown in front of cameras. You hoarded all of those smiles. Atsumu only ever smiled like that when he was too happy to care about how he looked, too caught up in the bubble you created for yourselves to let any passing thought intrude.

He was smiling like that now.

"Missed you too," you murmured against his mouth, the words a kiss of their own. You cupped his cheeks. "Missed my boyfriend very much."

You watched him as he unfurled, closing his eyes, that smile at full-force. A moonflower in bloom. It scared you sometimes, how much power you had over him. Everyday you woke up and hoped you deserved it.

Atsumu leaned in again, kissed you again, and you were distantly brought back to your conversation with Osamu, to the concern and curiosity in his eyes.

"You're really not worried? Seriously?"

Atsumu's tongue slipped into your mouth, and any last bit of thought was wiped clean.

You weren’t worried. You really, really weren’t.

put a ring on it.

premise. snippets of daily life between a humble servant and an increasingly clingy master.

word count. 5.4k

note. reader full of snark + dumbass in love ayato = gratuitous amount of banter. i have to say that ayato never goes out of line though, and you're not actually bothered by his advances; you're just a massive tsundere.

“With all due respect, I don't believe being your headrest is part of my duty, my lord.”

“Is that so?”

The noncommittal response pointedly marks the end of his acknowledgement as Ayato makes no effort to sit up, remaining slumped against your frame. His head rests upon your shoulder, a ticklish sensation blooming where your neck and chin meet. Light blue hair trail prickling heat where it grazes your skin, an itch you can't quite scratch away.

Even so, the discomfort doesn't reflect on your face, frigid expression carefully layered with blankness. His sinking weight fails to impede your immaculate posture, refined poise a great disparity from his leisurely disposition. It paints an odd picture, the ordinarily faultless heir lacking decorum—though granted the freedom to do as he wishes in the private confines of his room, it is a mystery why a servant such as you is... graciously permitted to bask in his exclusive company. In the private confines of his room. You feel the need to emphasize that detail.

In his hands lay a scroll concerning governmental affairs, urgent matters that demand his attention, so you can't begin to comprehend why he insists on using this time to harass reward a lowly attendant with his valuable presence when there is business to attend to.

He leans more of his weight to your side, and he—you nearly sputter indignantly—mimics an action that can almost be described as nuzzling. “Mhm. This is convenient for me, since I've hardly found the time to rest today. Do you find it intolerable?”

Ignoring the last bit, you advise, “Perhaps it would be more effective if you were to rest in your chambers. I will come call when the Kanjou Commission asks for you.”

He pretends to consider it for a moment, the silence filled with the quiet jingle of wind chimes. But predictably, the corners of his mouth hook up to an impish smile. “I would prefer to stay, if you don't mind?”

Resigned to your fate, you can only say, “Of course not, my lord.”

For reasons you cannot fathom, the head of the Kamisato household harbors a strong attachment to you.

In normal circumstances, this fact would be taken as great news; presently, you are little more than puzzled and unfeeling. Rather than delight, dread stirs in your stomach whenever he calls your name in a volume louder than necessary—a conscious decision, you presume, since he seems to interact with other servants just fine. Curt and polite, keeping his words concise, preventing further delay from addressing his responsibilities.

Had you not known better, you wouldn't be able to identify him as the same man who indulges in trivialities when he invites you to share snacks, engaging in frivolous chatter over tea and pastries. With increasing frequency nonetheless, and with varying refreshments each time to boot, an assortment of exquisite wagashi produced only by the best. Strawberry daifuku on one tea break, mizu-yokan on the next, sakura mochi on the day after that... You've been serving him for a considerable amount of time, but he's never been much of a sweet tooth until as of late.

Ayato hums thoughtfully, savoring the sweet taste on his tongue. “The mild flavor is pleasant. I believe it might be to your liking.”

He offers you a cup, steam curling above the warm brew. The pink beverage glistens beneath the sunlight, rippling with movement when you take it into your hands. It doesn't require much thinking to conclude the tea leaves must've cost a fortune, but it leaves you plenty of questions just as well. Why would a benefactor give you a taste of luxury?

But you would be a fool not to appreciate it while it lasts, so you lift the cup for a sip.

The flavor of spring bursts in your mouth, fragrant and tasting of sweet nectar. Your frosty guise wavers under the bribery, bliss crossing your face before your lips quirk up to a small, almost imperceptible smile.

Deeming your elated reaction satisfactory, Ayato nudges the plate of confections towards your side of the table. “Eat. They pair well with the tea.”

Who are you to say no to your lord? Therefore, the correct choice must be to accept his gifts with gratitude!

(Distracted by desserts, you fail to see his amusement in the way you stuff your cheeks full adorably like a chipmunk.

But he's aware it's not the right time yet, so he suppresses the urge to pinch your face.)

Kamisato Ayato is often praised for his intellect and cunning mind, but sometimes you wonder if he'd finally gone stupid. It was only a matter of time.

“My hand feels cold,” he laments, as if he hadn't chucked away his gloves ten seconds prior. “Can I hold yours for a moment?”

Ayaka, for her part, looks ashamed on her brother's behalf. With a graceful flick of her wrist, her fan snaps open and obscures the mortified expression on her face. Thoma's bottom lip quivers, valiantly repressing his bubbling laughter though he turns quite ugly in the process.

Sending a prayer to the heavens, you hope your face looks as unreadable as you think it to be. “...I'll fetch you a pair of gloves,” you say, side-stepping the pair he just abandoned on the floor.

“Mhm. That won't be necessary,” he counters, tugging on the edge of your sleeve. “You see, I heard those granted Pyro Visions have warmer body temperature...”

That is undoubtedly a lie he conjures up on the spot.

“...So I was hoping to sate my curiosity today,” he finishes, looking far too pleased with himself. Ayaka avoids your gaze when your eyes sweep past her (she absolutely knows it's an idiotic idea because going by that logic, she should have a colder temperature... but that is obviously not the case), and Thoma is blatantly ignoring your requests for assistance, whistling an awkward tune.

You have half a mind to shift the responsibility to another retainer similarly bearing a Pyro Vision, who is currently trying his hardest to stifle his pained grunts when you pinch his forearm admonishingly, but there's really no way out of this. Ayato would certainly craft another bullshit reason to coax you anyway. (A part of you thinks it might be fun to keep up the charade just to hear what he'll say next.)

You hold up your hand, and Ayato's eyes flicker with mischief. His slender fingers wrap around your wrist, brushing over the jut of your bone. He marvels at the size of it, dwarfed by his large hands, and he curls his fingers tighter.

...He doesn't seem to be assessing your temperature.

But you are mindful of his, a searing heat devouring your senses. His light touches settle heavily on your skin, a prominent warmth amidst the cold gale. Where his fingers rest leave imprints of fire, trails of scorched ash in his wake.

Experimentally, his thumb rubs circles on your palm, tracing over the lines. He rolls the soft flesh, staring at the small cuts and calluses with an attentive eye. Burning the image into his mind. Fiddling with the shape of your fingers. Then, following a brief hitch of his breath, he fits his own in the spaces between yours.

His hand is soft, you think to yourself. Without the presence of leather, it is fully bare, pale and dusted with pink. His knuckles are pronounced, palm surprisingly unscarred in spite of vigorous sword practice, but a writer's callus lays on his ring finger. It is easy to imagine his frame hunched over his desk, pen between his fingers, ink running dry from writing back to missives and signing endless contracts.

(And responding to engagement offers. You would know. They clutter his workspace, scented letters branded by wax seals of a distinguished family's emblem.

He barely throws a cursory glance at them before giving his never changing answer.)

When he gives your hand a squeeze, you finally ask, “Is it warm?”

“Yes.” He sounds somewhat strangled, there, less confident than he was before he took your hand. “Very warm.”

He reluctantly parts with it, stepping back to reduce your close proximity. Ayaka fans herself as she scrutinizes his reddening complexion, and Thoma—partial to the lord, you see, even though he wasn't very eager to lend you a hand before—makes some excuse about a meeting he has to attend to (some beetle fight with Itto, most likely) and if you'd kindly excuse their presence.

“...Please pardon my brother's strange behavior,” Ayaka murmurs when only the both of you remain in the room. “He could be quite straightforward when his curiosity is piqued. He doesn't have weird intentions, really.”

She doesn't appear to believe it herself, but you appreciate her attempts to clean up Ayato's mess.

“It's no trouble, milady.” You flash a placating smile for good measure, reaching down to collect the discarded gloves Thoma nearly tripped on in his way out. “But I'm afraid I'll have to take my leave now as well...”

“Yes, of course! You may go.”

Following her affirmation, you scramble to take a duster and retreat to clean the library.

At least she doesn't comment on your flushed cheeks and colored ears. Small mercies. (There's only so much composure you can exhaust within one day.)

For all that you (privately) complain about the extensive list of chores to tackle in the Kamisato Estate, you find tending to the garden fairly enjoyable. Alas, you can't exactly spend the whole day pruning the shrubbery; the smile on your face drops when you're sent to go on a shopping trip. Worse still, with no one to assist you in carrying the groceries. Thoma has already promised to accompany Ayaka for a mission, and everyone else is busy preparing for the Kamisato head's upcoming business trip.

Said Kamisato head is apparently “free” and “has the spare time to help” despite being the one who should be busy holing himself up in his office.

Regardless of your protests, Ayato insists on tagging along to the market. Which brings you to your current situation, your employer dutifully carrying bundles of cloth and a basket of radishes and carrots with an easygoing smile, while your hands remain empty. He is... considerate, if you were to speak in flowery words. He is stubborn, if you were to be blunt.

However, he is relatively obedient, save for the handful of times he rushes off to chase something that caught his eye. As a result, he keeps purchasing cheap trinkets he'll probably have no use for and his pocket is brimming of candy he sometimes stuffs your mouth with when you have something to scold him for. (To be fair, it's very effective for shutting you up.)

“Please don't interrupt me from speaking,” your words are partly muffled, mouth still chewing on the confection. Ayato smiles innocently, pressing another piece of sugar to your lips.

“Where are we headed next?” He questions, looking around the bustling streets as he tucks the jar of konpeito candy in his sleeve. “Do you still have vegetables you need to buy?”

You shake your head. “No, the cook said he's only missing radishes and carrots in particular. I've also gotten the materials needed to mend clothes Thoma asked for.”

He deflates at that, disappointment painting his expression. “I suppose we're returning, then?”

You purse your lips, considering your options. It isn't like you were told to come back an appointed time, and you could always blame Ayato for your tardiness... “Does my lord wish to visit anywhere specifically?”

The river of stars in his eyes twinkle ever so slightly, flashing a thinly-veiled childish gleam. “Not anything I could think of at the top of my head. Do you have any recommendations in mind?”

“Recommendations?”

“Places you like to visit.”

During your free time, you usually look around to shop for clothing or accessories... but they're nowhere near the quality befitting of nobles. The yukata isn't tailored to your size, made from cheaper cloth of cotton, and aren't as decorative to what your lord is used to; it's what makes it affordable. Whereas Ayato is often dressed in luxurious silks, embellished with golden thread and customized to his liking.

“It's no harm to bring you there... I guess.” You scratch your cheek. “Though I can't guarantee you'll like it.”

“Nonsense.” He smiles amicably. He reaches for the basket before you can grab it, gesturing for you to start walking. “I'm sure I'll have a good time regardless where it is.”

And... he does. He marvels at the extravagant brocades displayed at boutiques, wondering how one could possibly wear so many heavy layers. Though he doesn't buy clothes for himself, he decides to buy a cute purse he thinks his sister would appreciate.

Ayato expresses interest in ornaments and cosmetics as well, to which the shop owner proceeds to happily introduce her entire catalogue for a man she knows has deep pockets. He doesn't disappoint.

“You don't want anything?” He asks when you only answer his questions pertaining to Ayaka's preferences, two steps behind, never taking the opportunity to roam and search for potential additions in your wardrobe.

It's not that you haven't seen anything you'd like to take home, per se. More like everything is too expensive for your pocket money in this high-end portion of town. “No,” you say instead, because it's easier to explain that way.

He tilts his head inquisitively, but doesn't push the topic. “Help me choose a hair pin then. You know what fits Ayaka best.”

He leads you to the display case housing rows of hair ornaments, each one more remarkable than the next. The last one, undoubtedly the most costly whose price would make you weep, teeters on the edge of gaudy. Adorned with silver butterflies, tear drop sapphires, gems delicately shaped like dewy petals and white pearls sitting atop carved gold, they almost blind your eyes.

“...She'd look beautiful in everything,” is the conclusion you come to, because you speak nothing but the truth. “But please don't buy everything. She will get mad at you.”

“I know,” he sighs. “That's why I needed your help picking one.”

You almost drill holes to the items with how hard you're staring at them, but you eventually point at the pin with pink blossoms. “This would contrast nicely with her hair.”

“Mhm. If you say so,” he hums approvingly, tracing the sculpted leaves.

“Then if that's all, I'll go pay...”

“Ah, which reminds me.” He spins on his heel to face you, lips shaped into an apologetic smile. “I'm nearly running out of parchment paper. Could you stop by the stationery store up front? I'll handle things from here and meet you by the entrance.”

“Of course, my lord.”

On your way outside, you resolutely do not allow your curious gaze to steer towards the tables of sparkling jewelry.

--

The trip back to the estate is uneventful, and the rest of the afternoon passes like any other.

Perhaps the only inconsistency in your repetitive days is the accidental nap you fall into, blanketed in warm rays of sunshine and caressed by the refreshing breeze slipping past ajar doors, your cheek resting on the surface of the table you were supposed to be cleaning. How uncouth of me, you think as you wipe your mouth to check for signs of drool. Your only respite is not having anyone witness you in such a state, otherwise you would've long been rudely awakened and received an earful of chastising.

...Is what you think, until you spot a foreign ring you definitely do not recall putting on.

It curls around your finger, dotted with crystals in a hue of blue you're all too familiar with. You see it everyday, gleaming in mischief, darkening with intrigue. Framed by long, long lashes, crinkling at the corners when filled with mirth. Crashing torrents that freeze in displeasure yet inexplicably gentle the moment they meet your eyes, akin to gentle sea waves that pad to your feet.

(You wonder if this is why he insisted on touching your hands so much, just to roughly measure your ring size.)

“I hope you fare well during my absence. Fear not, I will do my best not to prolong my leave.”

The way his words sound so self-assured and full of conviction doesn't sit well with you, and the genuine pity reflected in his irises almost makes your eyebrow twitch. You haven't even spoken a word before he began his theatrics.

“Take as long as you need,” you reassure him. “My lord mustn't rush his work.”

He wilts, but he perks right back up, “No need to put up a front. I'll come back for you.”

Incorrigible.

“Then I await your safe return.” You bow deeply as you swallow back a sigh of defeat, the other servants lined up on either side of the street moving accordingly.

“Please be careful,” Ayaka bids when she walks in front of him. “I've heard of bandits intercepting carriages to steal... I don't mean to undermine your abilities, but you should still be vigilant of trouble.”

Ayato laughs at that. “You don't have to worry, Ayaka. They'll sooner surrender before they lay a single scratch on me.” Glancing at the supplies being loaded on his carriage, he grimaces slightly. “I better get going. I'll see you all in three weeks.”

He climbs to the interior, giving you a final smile before closing the door. You stare at the carriage until it fully disappears, the trotting of horses out of earshot. When Thoma begins to walk back to the estate, you fall into step with him, matching his strides.

“The lord hasn't left for this long in a while,” he comments, to which you hum in agreement. “Think you'll miss him?”

“Three weeks is hardly a long time,” you retort back, complacent for the rare period of peace to follow the next month. “He'll return in no time, as if he'd never been gone in the first place.”

Thoma eyes you strangely at that, but says no more. “If you say so.”

--

The first day is bliss. No disruptions in your work, no unwanted conversation partner as a distraction, no midnight snacks needed to be prepared for the clan head a weird mix between workaholic and slacker.

The second day proves to be the same. No incessant chatter in your ear as you sweep the floor, no complaints for a stack of paperwork to be done within the day, no sudden requests of a shoulder massage for a job well done deserving of a reward.

The third day, you feel like your schedule is lacking, blank spots of free time sprinkled in between.

Ah, right. The tea breaks.

You tell yourself you only miss the fragrant tea, the selection of treats given to you by the young master's generosity. Not his thoughtful commentary for the taste, the chuckles spilling from his lips when you respond to his quips, the brief moments of eye contact before you resume your respective duties.

The fourth day, you're sent to hang the laundry. You tell yourself you don't miss a certain someone's abrupt appearance, poking a head through the sheets to startle you, huffing bright peals of laughter when he attains his desired reaction.

The fifth day, the cook requests your help to prep dinner. My lord doesn't like this dish, the sentence almost leaves your tongue as your eyes track down the recipe when you remember right, he's not here, and milady likes this dish, so it's one of the few chances she gets to eat it.

The sixth day, you clean his office. You organize the account books, restock his collection of pens and paper, and shuffle through his mail to sort them by category (definitely not noting down the number of letters asking for his hand in marriage). Your face flushes slightly when an unassuming bookmark falls out of a book you pick up from the floor, familiar flowers pressed thinly to fit between the pages. (You have only given those flowers on a whim, plucking fresh blossoms from plants you grew outside the Kamisato's garden. You didn't think he'd keep it around; they're not nearly as fancy as what his family owns.)

By the seventh day, you begin to doubt the calendar. There is no way it's only been a single week.

--

“How do I look?”

“Positively charming,” is your dry answer.

“You're not looking.”

Your eyes flit to Thoma's attire. “I am.”

He shakes his head, taking off the robes he's been trying on. “You're always daydreaming nowadays. What are you thinking about?”

Reminiscing the last time you visited this clothing store, which is when you brought the young master in your shopping trip, and also presumably when he bought the ring for you. Recently, you've taken to pondering over the specifics; did he commission it beforehand? But how would he have known for certain you'd be visiting the store that day to give it to you later that afternoon? You were only planning to get groceries... Unless he was planning to give it another time? If so, in what occasion did he want to present it as a gift? What prompted him to give it to you earlier? ...Did he see your longing gaze on the jewelry?!

No, no, no, you made sure none of that showed on your face... Did he mean to give it to you that day? He somehow predicted you'd cave to his whims and show him around town? Then when you were gone, he retrieved the ring he commissioned, hitting two birds with one stone in a single trip?

...Knowing your sly lord, the idea isn't so far-fetched to be unbelievable...

To this day, you have yet to solve the mystery. But Thoma doesn't need to know your current musings. You shake your head. “It's nothing. Are you buying it?”

“Since you kindly gave an approving opinion, sure.” His tone drips with sarcasm as he takes out his money pouch, paying for the clothes. “I think I don't need the answer from you, actually. I'm confident I have an accurate guess.”

Your eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean by that?”

“Who else would linger in your mind?” Thoma sighs in dramatic fashion, stepping out of the premises with you not far behind. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder, after all.”

Bristling, you vehemently refute, “I'm not thinking inappropriately of the lord, if that's what you're implying.”

“I didn't mention any names.”

“But you clearly meant him.”

He holds up his hands. “If that's what you want to believe, suit yourself.”

His gaze drops to the ring wrapped around your finger. The ring has been a topic of interest for the gossip mongers within the estate, wondering who you could've received it from; what other implications can wearing a ring have? Your cold exterior is no secret, your heart guarded with thorns, so who was able to sweep you off your feet in the end?

Thoma only needed one look at the shade of blue to make a correct guess.

“...I'm sure at this point, you know of his intentions,” Thoma says slowly. “And I have plenty of reasons to believe his affections aren't entirely unrequited.”

If they were, you would have brushed off Ayato already, just like you always do with the others. He may be persistent, but he knows how to back off. Yet the most you do is sigh and spoil him, albeit in (fond) exasperation.

“Even if they aren't...” You fidget with the hem of your shirt, averting your gaze from his blazing eyes, “...it doesn't mean we'll work. I'm certain he has better prospects for a spouse, anyway.”

“You mean those daughters from noble families?” He snorts. “He'd barely give them the time of day before running back to you. You should know that by now. Don't you remember when he faked being sick in that lunch meeting so you could take care of him?”

Of course you do. He had pretended to be in a dizzy spell, collapsing on your shoulder and making furtive hand signals asking for your help to get the lovesick maiden off his back. There really is no way to reject people like her without offending his business associate, so he tended to evade confrontations in roundabout ways.

You could excuse his clingy behavior out of necessity; it would be disgraceful to collapse on the floor, after all. The problem lies with the aftermath where you had already steered clear of the trouble but he insists on requiring treatment, body calculatively feeble as he gives you woeful pleas.

In another world, perhaps this would've been a heart-rending experience: a cold man who didn't share his burdens with others asking help from you specifically, because you were special and he trusted you the most.

In this world though, the act is only deserving of a derisive snort. He pulled off this plot for who knows how many times. How would holding your hand help with his throbbing headache anyway?

(You ignore the fact you indulge him each time regardless.)

“In any case, the lord is returning in a week. Not much time left for you to mope.” He laughs even as you elbow his side.

A week.

(That is one week too long.)

--

When Ayato returns five days short of three weeks, you aren't there to greet him.

Instead, you are sick in bed, bundled in a pile of blankets, and suffering from a stuffy nose.

Ah, and delirious from fever. Very much so.

So when Ayato miraculously appears in your bedroom earlier than scheduled, you only sniff in response and brush him off as a hallucination.

But of course, your dismissive attitude isn't enough to discourage him from pestering you and running his mouth. He hovers by your bedside, noting with glee that you keep his ring on a nightstand close by. “This is rare. I don't think I've ever seen you ill.”

But you've seen him plenty, frail and weak after days straight of sleepless nights. He doesn't look too pretty in such a mood, quick-tempered and sharp-tongued at the slightest annoyance. He only ever softens when your expression flits to dismay for a fraction of a second before dutifully offering him prescribed medicine from the family's physician, the saddened expression gone like a mirage.

“How are you this annoying even in my dreams...”

As it turns out, you're even more of a worse case than he is.

“Mhm. Your filter is completely shut down when you're sick, huh.” Ayato laughs, amused at the surprising revelation. He doesn't get to be the receiving end of your blunt words very often. “Alright. How bad do you feel right now?”

“Terrible, since it's the ass crack of dawn.”

It is not the ass crack of dawn, but you wouldn't know any better with the folding screens obscuring the orange glow of the evening. “Do you have an appetite? I'll have a servant bring a meal.” Then, he slyly adds, “I can feed you, if you want me to.”

He doesn't know which part of that statement appeals to you the most but you sit up straight, attentive.

Interesting.

Though Ayato meant it in jest, he has no complaints scooping spoonfuls of porridge to bring to your lips. He patiently coaxes you into drinking the bitter medicine after, quickly soothing you with bite-sized cut fruit to wash away the acrid taste.

“Good job,” he compliments, chuckling when you glow at the praise. Your lips are shiny with juice, trickling from the corner of your mouth.

Absent-mindedly, his hand lifts to caress your cheek, the pad of his thumb wiping it away. You jolt, a startled sound escaping you, and you hasten to clamp a hand over his mouth.

He blinks at you owlishly, dumbfounded.

“Don't,” you speak, your face decorated with a lovely pink. “You'll... you'll get sick.”

Ayato takes an embarrassing amount of time to process what that means. However, when he does, you can feel him grin beneath your fingers. He takes your hand, his huff of laughter tickling your palm.

“I thought we were in a dream? You don't get sick from kisses in dreams,” he teases, pressing a light kiss to your wrist. Your heart stutters in bewilderment but you make no move to pull away, only twitching when he kisses your fingertips.

“It's better to be careful...” Your brows knit together, and he kisses the tiny furrow away too.

“Okay. Let's do it next time then, when you're truly awake.” He gently pushes you to your back, fluffing up the pillows for your comfort and tucking you in the blankets. Indulgently, he presses a final kiss to the crown of your head. “Rest well so I can get that kiss sooner, hm?”

“That's a stupid reason to recover...” You murmur defiantly, stubbornly blinking your drooping eyes open.

In the end, you fall asleep to the sound of his laughter, the fingers combing through your hair, and the rhythmic beat in his chest.

--

When you wake up, you admonish yourself for having such a shameless subconscious, but you acknowledge that you had a good dream.

Then your eyes land on a pair of discarded gloves on your nightstand, one that you remember Ayato putting away before he began to spoonfeed you your meal.

...Fuck.

“With all due respect, I don't believe being your headrest is part of my duty, my lord.”

A thoughtful hum answers you, preceded by a curious glance at your expression. Your legs are folded underneath you, back straight and eyes overlooking the garden instead of the weight resting on your lap. You can feel him shift, turning over where he faces against the porch, his robes wrinkling where they lay below.

“Are you suddenly becoming shy because a maidservant passed by?” He places down the novel in his hands on the wooden floorboards, watching your face burn in embarrassment. “I doubt this is the first time she's seen us, though.”

“My apologies. I'm not as thick-skinned as you are.”

“I'd prefer the term 'proud,'” he pokes the sash around your waist, smiling cheekily. “Who wouldn't want to show off their lover?”

He feels you stiffen, sees the flush of pink crawling outwards to the tips of your ears. “It's inappropriate. We're in a public setting.”

“That's only because you refuse to enter my chambers.” Ayato sighs and you look positively mortified. “I wouldn't ravage you, if that's what you're worried about?”

Not yet anyway, he doesn't say.

“My lord, please be reasonable. Whether you do or not, I will still be seen as your bed warmer. Did milady not advise us to be discreet? Inazuma would be in an uproar if they learned you were... you were...” You purse your lips, unable to spit the last word.

“Wedded.”

“I'm afraid we haven't gone that far, my lord,” you deadpan.

“So will you consider it?”

“My lord.”

“What?”

You give him a look, and he sighs in acquiescence. But he turns to face the opposite direction, expression hidden fron view. You can practically hear the pout in his voice, “I see. [Name] only sees me as a fling. My heart breaks to know this bliss is short-lived, but I will cherish our remaining time together.”

He's begun his theatrics again, you think tiredly, accustomed to his stunts. “In any case, we must be careful. We never know who has loose lips around here...”

He's still not facing you, resolutely looking away.

...Is he sulking for real? Was that a genuine marriage proposal?

“My lord?” You call out softly, in a lover's tender voice. He doesn't respond. Quieter, you whisper to his ear, “Ayato?” yet that doesn't earn a reaction either.

You start to panic, wondering if you were acting too indifferently. The change in your relationship had been a recent one, and you're still settling in a period of adjustment; even if you wanted to properly flirt with him like normal lovers do, bickering came more naturally to you.

You reach for his shoulder, hoping to turn him over and see his face. But then he catches your wrist, and you only have a second to catch a glimpse of his triumphant smirk before he captures your lips in a chaste kiss.

“Mhm, I see. So you're more considerate towards me when we're dating,” he cheerfully notes, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear as if he can't see the way your shocked gaze morphs into a cold glare. “I truly am privileged.”

“Incorrigible.” The word drips with poison, but he laughs and kisses you again, thumbing at the ring around your finger.

“Too bad you're stuck with me forever, huh?”

✮ tags ; gn! reader, established relationship, fluff, alcohol.

"Shouto,"

"Hm?"

"You're drunk,"

Your boyfriend leans his head on your shoulder and makes a noise in the back of his throat. "A bit."

More than a bit, you think. In actuality, you don't think you've ever seen him this drunk before. He's okay with alcohol, usually - but tends to stay away from drinking too much. You think the last time you saw him get actually drunk at all, you were both twenty and he was barely tipsy then.

He doesn't like getting drunk, he's told you before. A few times. The lack of control and hazy memories make him just slightly anxious, so he's careful around liquor.

You've been dating for years now, and unless he's living some double-life (a different one than being a hero) - you've never seen him get this wasted. Ever. To everyone else in your surroundings, it probably doesn't look that way.

But you've spent enough time to know him, and he's not like this usually. Nowhere near as absent minded he is now, at least. He hasn't been able to sit still since he downed that last bottle of shochu. He went to go play with Bakugou's cat, Momo and you couldn't find him afterwards. You lost sight of him for about half-an-hour until you finally found him in the living room while everyone else was outside, feeding Momo some treat that squeezes from a tube.

(You still don't know where or how he found where Bakugou kept the treats, but you decide it's better you don't ask. Plausible deniability, or something.)

You're both grown-ups, and you're not one to worry about his liquor intake. Still, though - you're worried. Even if it seems like he's not different to everyone else, you can tell. And it's bothering you.

"Shouto," You call out to him, your hands reaching to pet the back of his neck. He's a head taller than you, and a little heavy. Palms smooth against the prickly ends of his hair - tapered and neat. He presses his cheek to your shoulder. "Shouto, love."

"Oh," He says, suddenly remember where he is. He stands up but doesn't back away far enough to give you space. You're in a far off empty corner. Most people are in the backyard but Shouto wanted some air - so you're crowded against a wooden fence and wall with your boyfriend locking you in out by the entrance. He smells nice, you think - clean with a soft touch of aftershave. You look up at him. "Hi,"

"You're drunk," You repeat, watching him blink rapidly - bleary eyes and the faintest line of a smile whenever he glances at you. He's bent over, staring at you hard. "Is something wrong?"

His expression is the same as always. Unchangingly neutral with a strong and uncharacteristic rosiness to it. Your boyfriend is handsome, alarmingly so. You're aware of it constantly, but this new face knocks the air out of your lungs.

He's... pouting you think. But not fully. His lips aren't drawn together, it's subtle like most expressions on him.

But it's...there. You're not imagining it - the soft furrow of his brow, the press of his lips. His expression grows warmer and it only makes you more confused. He shakes it off, all of a sudden, a micro-expression that fades just as quickly as it appears.

"I'm okay."

"Are you?""

He blinks slowly at that. Concern aside, you can't help but think he's cute like this. His ears are pink enough to stick out against his skin, cold air making them flush even darker.

"I'm okay," He says, then looks at you. He sobers up if only for that moment. "Had something on my mind."

"Something you can't tell me?"

"It's supposed to be a secret," He mumbles. He's really drunk. You realize this late. "So I don't know if I can."

"Mm," You reply. You feel like doting on him suddenly, so you do, petting the back of his neck before hugging him a little. "That's okay."

He follows up with a light groan. You've never heard him complain like that, so you laugh. "But I want to tell you."

"I promise I'll keep your secret at least."

He smiles at you more fully that time.

He pauses for a minute, thinking it over. You don't do or say anything in return. A beat passes of you two standing and swaying with silence where Shout to grabs your hands from in front of you. You think he's being affectionate again, wanting to hold them.

He draws your hands to his pocket though. The angle is awkward, makes you bend your wrist on the inside of coat pocket until you feel something hard and square touch your fingers. It's velvet from the material. A box of some kind.

...A box?

Shouto guides your hand again, this time out. When you pull it out, his palm is over yours. It's a jewellery box. You blink a few times, confused. Shouto hasn't let go of your hand.

"I keep missing the timing," He says, hiccuping. The lack of sobriety more clear than ever from the slight slur in his words. "It's been in my pockets for a while."

Your eyes go wide open. You can feel your own confusion and excitement twist and tangle inside of you, frantic to get a better read on the situation. He smiles down at you, disarmingly and then closes his eyes. His forehead is warm as it touches yours.

"...I thought you didn't want to married. Not really, at least." You whisper.

"Me too," He says, a wetness to his laugh that tugs at your heart . "It was on a whim. I wanted to talk to you about it. But." He frowns a little "It's tough."

You chuckle, a sudden wetness to your voice too. "I bet it was,"

He smiles at you, big and stupid. "I love you," He closes is eyes and presses his forehead to yours more. "Thank you for everything."

"Shouto," You repeat, unsure of what else to say. "What brought this up?"

"Mm," He shrugs, getting sleepier by the minute. "I thought giving you my last name would make you suffer." He admits, soft and unsure. "But taking yours. That felt...okay. Felt nice."

"You're silly."

"Yes," He says, not denying it. "And I love you."

"And you love me." You repeat, a grin splitting your face. Big tears at the corner of your eyes, making your vision sting and your cheeks ache. You look up at him again. "Enough to marry me?"

He seems almost sheepish that time. "If you'll have me."

"Are you sober enough to even remember this?"

His embarrassment makes him blush and laugh again. "My heart is beating so loud I'm a little afraid of it. So yes. I'm sure I'll remember." He admits.

"Let's get married, then." You repeat to him, so achingly happy you think you could die. You wonder when to tell your friends. Bakugou will be pissed you did at his place. "If you'll have me."

He smiles. "I'd like too."

You lean up to press a kiss to his mouth, and Shouto holds you there to kiss you longer than you expect. When you're done kissing, he's smiling.

"Anymore secrets?"

He thinks on it, then hums.

"We should get a cat."

---

THE REVERSED CINDERELLA TALE

“I’m sorry MC, but you can’t go to the ball~”.

SUMMARY: NRC decides to host a ball in collaboration with RSA, but our dear prefect is not invited. Yet, the night of the ball, something strange happens… (Everyone + Neige and Che’nya x Fem!Reader)

WARNINGS: This is pretty long. Mentions of sadness, I guess (Excuse me, I suck at putting warnings).

CONTENT: Ortho's part is platonic. Crowley being an ass, but like, it was unintentional, really. As I said, this is pretty long, mostly because it has every character separately, plus dress transformation. WORDS: 9K+

A/N: I still feel bad since I lost all the content I had before, but it’s okay, I’m glad I saved everything separately because if I didn’t… I wouldn’t be uploading this in the first place.

Also, if you want to use this as inspiration for sketches, go on! I remembered a certain comment which asked for permission, and I certainly don't mind! Now onto the fic~

Crowley really has the worst timing.

You were just about to drink a vase of water, throat dry because you passed the whole day with the first years. That’s when the door opened, leaving you to almost drop the cup, your reflexes making it possible.

“Crowley! What the hell!?”, you whisper yelled, looking at Grim turning in the sofa, far away in his dreamland.

It wasn’t unusual for the kind headmaster to show up with such… Theatrics, but this was certainly a new and unwelcomed entrance.

“I apologise for the sudden intrusion, but there’s has been an incident!”, he exclaimed, and you shushed him, leading him to whisper his next sentence. “You see, the ball of Royal Sword Academy and Night Raven College is near its due date…”.

Indeed, the ball featuring both of the most prestigious schools in Twisted Wonderland was drawing near; it started as a “friendly” way to make their students socialize, soon turning into a way to exhibit who had the most graceful gentleman.

“Yeah, and? I thought everything was fine, Che’nya told me this morning that the arrangements were almost done”.

“Me and the Royal Sword Academy headmaster have gotten some complaints indicating that we should not allow you or Grim assist to the ball due to your dorm not being an official part of the school”, ah, so that was the reason of the nervous tone. “I would refuse, but the grievances come from certain parents with high status and- “.

You interrupted. “Don’t worry Crowley, it’s understandable that you don’t want to make such powerful enemies. Grim on the other hand…”, you spared a glance at the sleeping being, already imagining what kind of reaction he would have.

“I appreciate your understanding, yet that’s not what I wanted to discuss”.

“Huh?”.

“Some of your friends know about this, and I’m afraid they’re… How can I say this…? A little erratic”.

You sighed, knowing exactly what the meant by that. “Are you scared of them?”.

“Me? Of course not! I’m the headmage! But it would be helpful if you intervened”.

“They can’t be that bad, I’ll go talk to them”.

Oh, it can be that bad. Not overblot case bad, but it’s much more chaotic than you thought it would be.

You walked towards the dining hall, place where all of them got the news. You felt bad for the other students who had to run away because of the outburst.

Once you enter the hall, there was only a way you can describe the situation: encasing every reaction in a specific group.

First, we have the erratic behaviour, as Crowley mentioned earlier: students who are enraged because you cannot go to the ball. Here we have Ace, Deuce, Riddle, Leona, Floyd, Vil, Epel, Malleus and Sebek. Some are just snappy, such as Leona or Vil, and Riddle is trying to not let the anger overcome him. The rest are tagged as official menaces.

The second is the quiet group, the scariest of them all. Even if you tried, you can’t fathom what their expressions are hiding, exuding an eerie aura that has everyone shivering. The most students of this group are Azul, Jade, Rook, Idia and Lilia, the most dangerous combination to ever exist.

The last but not least group is the one that has every sane person, and the ones that are near sanity. They are so busy trying to control the furious trope that they don’t realise why they’re mad in the first place. Trey, Cater, Ruggie, Jack, Kalim, Jamil, Ortho and Silver are the ones in this category.

You yelled as loud as you could in order to gain their attention, everyone’s head turning when recognising the familiar voice.

“What’s going on here!?”.

“MC/Prefect!”, they jolted, abruptly stopping dead in their tracks.

“I thought Crowley was exaggerating when he told me that you were, and I quote, erratic, but this is absurd!”, you whined in annoyance, not believing the scene in front of you, much less believing the reason behind it.

“Ah, well, this was just, uh…”, Ace was trying to find the correct words to not make you angrier, eyes evading yours as you send him a cold glare.

“We were practicing for, uh…!”, Deuce’s desperation showed up in order to think of an excuse, and you had enough of it.

“Do you think I’m dumb?”, the bitter words came out as venom, not only being directed at the young boy but at everyone, seeing how you shared your discontent look with all of them. “Is this because of the ball?”.

There was a brief silence before it was cut off again by Malleus.

“Child of Man, I think that this decision is an act of unfairness towards you”, his comment made way to other ones, clearly displeased with the agreement.

“You have done so much for this school!”, blurted out Kalim.

“It’s an improper choice after all the effort you’ve put, since this event is for congratulating students for their excelling performances”, Jade remarked, slight annoyance in his voice.

Soon, the hall was filled with different arguments, and yet again, you had to yell.

“Guys, I know that it may be unfair, but I’m okay with it; you all could get expelled for doing this!”, more than anger, your voice was full of concern, worried because of their impulsive actions.

“Shrimpy, aren’t you upset?”, Floyd tilted his head, not comprehending why you weren’t showing any strong emotion at the news.

“Certainly Mademoiselle, you must feel at least the slightest bit offended, don’t you?”, Rook asked, also tilting his head.

“What I think about it doesn’t matter, the decision it’s made and there’s nothing else to do other than accept it, and you must do the same”, you sighed, all the stress leaving your body with that long exhale. “You shouldn’t make a fuss over this; there will be other events I can participate to”.

“And what if there aren’t any ‘other events’?”, the abrupt question coming from Leona made you think, and after some seconds you chuckled.

“If that’s the case then I guess I can always make my own”, your quick response had everyone gasp in cuteness, some were more dramatic than others but the gasp was there.

“My, is this an angel speaking to us?”, Lilia said, his teasing tone having you think it was a joke, which it wasn’t.

“Less talk, more work”, and with that note, the students were forced to start their cleaning duties, not really minding it since you were there.

While you were picking up some broken pieces of wood, an idea came to your mind, making you do a soft smile as you thought about the outcome.

ONE WEEK LATER

The ball day was here, and everyone was shining in their own lights, their tuxedos matching their distinctive colours as they added some characteristic details to it.

The week after the incident, everything was pretty chill; they reluctantly agreed to leave the topic alone to please you, switching it to their fashion choices or practicing some basic dance moves.

You were greatly surprised when seeing them all before the event, cheering them up as you told them that they looked handsome, making some of the boy’s blush. “I hope you enjoy the ball!”.

You bid them goodbye, making sure everyone was out of sight so you could return to Ramshackle, home to the angry creature named Grim.

“How can they not invite the great Grim to their boring party!? That’s unacceptable!” you laughed at his antics, caressing his fur to soothe his ire.

“Should I remind you that I was also excluded?”, he let out a cute groan, curling into your lap to comfort himself.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever ya’ say henchman. By the way, why’re ya’ using that dress?”, he lazily signalled the simple gown you were wearing, closing his eyes when you reached an icky spot.

“I don’t know, I saw it at Sam’s and decided to bought it, does it look bad?”.

“I didn’t say that, it’s just weird you’re using it now…”.

Both you and Grim decided to get out of Ramshackle, sitting on the shore of the pond that was near the old building, the quiet and magical atmosphere worth the outing.

Grim’s soft snores were heard in the solitude of the forest, some fireflies appearing to make the scene look like it came straight out of a painting.

“Am I upset?”, you asked yourself, quoting the words from last week.

Truthfully, you did care about not being invited to the ball. Your excitement vanished the moment the headmaster started explaining why you couldn’t assist.

You started to wonder if that meant that your efforts were going to be unappreciated, until you remembered that they weren't. The friends you made here made you feel at home, even though most of them were sceptical about befriending you at first, oblivious to the fact that they started to look at you with heart eyes.

You started to sing a lullaby you constantly heard during your childhood, a calm harmony that brought you peace in moments like this, when you were about to cry out of confusion and sadness.

Your voice acted as anaesthesia for the little Grim, humming contently as you gently stood up, holding him like a baby as you started to dance around.

Unbeknown to you, a wandering fairy heard the enchanting lyric; her pointy ears perked up in curiosity as she approached slowly, her small form making it impossible for you to take notice of, too focused in your dancing solo.

The small, fantastic individual started to hum along. Deeming you as a friend, and not a threat, she closed the distance between you both, a giggle leaving her mouth as she sat on your shoulder, surprised when you didn’t saw her.

She stayed silent, lightly grasping the soft material of your dress so she wouldn’t fall, hearing in joy as you continued your lively tune.

Your steps were feather like, slowly spinning while leaving the forest, now strolling through the dark corridors of the academy. It may seem a little eerie seeing it as an outsider, but everything you could think of was the enchanting lyrics, the absence of light not resembling an issue as you resume the melodious piece.

It was a matter of time when you got to the giant ballroom, passing through an open door as you heard a lively composition that matched yours, smiling wider until you collided with someone.

You woke up from your trance, your previously calm state being replaced by worry as you bow to the person in front of you.

“I’m so sorry, it wasn’t my intention to…”, you spared a quick glance at the boy’s face, mouth agape when realising who it was, the little fairy hiding as soon as she saw the unknown person. “Neige?”.

“Ah! MC, I was looking for you!”, said the young boy, cheeks dusted of a light pink. “I was afraid you didn’t appear, but I’m so happy I found you!”.

That woke up Grim, aside from all the chit chatter of the room.

“Nyah!? Henchman, where are we!?”, he jumped off your arms, falling nose-first on the marble floor.

“I may have brought us while dancing…”, you confessed, ashamed of not noting it sooner. “I’m sorry Neige, but we and Grim have to go before Crowley spots us”.

“Not so fast! I want to check the food! With that amount I’m sure they won’t notice one or two dishes missing…”, his mischievous smile threw you off guard, sighing at his intentions.

“Grim, come on, we can’t…”.

“It would be a pleasure! The banquet is right there!”, said the naïve boy, signalling a large table with lots of different dishes.

In less than a second, Grim was already there, filling his mouth with everything his little paws could hold on to.

“Grim!”, the frustration was there, but you couldn’t show it, not wanting to make a scene, but you were certain that some students were already glancing your way.

The kind-hearted boy looked at you with pure adoration, trying his best to hide it as he took your hand in his; all while the little fairy, still hidden, tried to think about what she could do to “help” you.

NEIGE LEBLANCHE

The gown was sky blue, white grading in the top and sleeves with some yellow sparks. Your hair was now short, curled at the ends and portraying a red lace on the top, a cute bow placed on it.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you… Would you like to dance with me?”.

“I guess I can, I’m already here, aren’t I?”.

Dear, you just made Neige the happiest man alive. The dwarfs were in their way to talk with him, but when they noticed the huge smile that he portrayed, decided to keep their distance so you could have your perfect moment.

That was interrupted when he stopped, pointing at your dress that had changed abruptly. You were surprised, obviously, but there wasn’t a major reaction from you, since you’re in a world of magic after all. Him on the other hand was completely flustered, trying to think of a compliment as he kept dancing.

He’s a good dancer, but his steps resemble those of a child dancing, in a good way obviously, it’s pretty fun and refreshing to waltz with him.

Laughing time was over when a shout was heard, coming from a certain red hair.

 “Prefect!?”, yelled the first years, their loud scream attracting even more attention. You just hoped Crowley didn’t hear it; he didn’t, but the others surely did.

And now you’re scared because Vil had a questioning look in his face. If he did saw the dance, may the Sevens let you rest in peace.

“Ah, hey guys!”, you backed away from Neige, who in response pouted, sad at the loss of contact.

 “What are you doing here!?”, they asked, a combination of confusion and excitement washing over them.

“I don’t know, I was enjoying my solitude, dancing alone and when I looked up I was here, dressed like this”, you slightly lifted the dress for emphasis, frowning when everyone shut up. “Uh, guys-?”.

“Please dance with me!”, most of them screamed at once, having to cover your ears because it was so sudden and very much not appreciated.

And just like a week ago, that led to everyone argue about who should dance with you.

You were about to stop them again, but someone took advantage of the situation, bringing his hands to your waist.

CHE’NYA

The gown was of a light lilac, along with some stripes that were just a few shades apart, white sleeves added to the palette. Your hair was still short, but it changed the style to a light messy pixie cut with some mauve highlights.

“Isn’t this such an entertaining scenario, nya~?”.

“I think is more of a dangerous scenario, incredible to think they’re fighting over such a stupid thing”.

Oh, MC, is that what you think of yourself? This is not a stupid thing, dancing with you is enough to make the most ferocious man drop on their knees, mesmerized by your beauty.

And he certainly would do that just by seeing you with a dress matching his attire. While you don’t know why or how this is happening, he’s grinning widely because you look so beautiful, the slightest shade of pink covering his cheeks as he throws some funny comments, lighting up the mood.

Dancing with him is amusing, to say the least, sometimes disappearing his body, leaving you to dance with a floating head.

Ace, the moment breaker, does his thing once again, his loud shrieks rivalling those of Sebek.

 “Ah, she’s dancing with the disappearing guy!”, they all turned their heads, most of them having a vein about to pop up from the anger.

 “It seems that I’m not welcomed, but at least we will be together the next week, goodbye~!”, and with that, he disappeared, again.

Remember that scene when Rapunzel was calming Maximus down? That was the exact thing you had to do with the most enraged students, thanking the unwanted dress for acting as a distractor.

“If you care that much about dancing with me, I can dance with all of you, only if you promise that you would not cause more mess; I’m already walking on a thin line just by being here”.

Silence. You tapped your foot impatiently at that.

“Promise that you would not cause more mess”, it was more of a demand than a request, but it worked when they all repeated your words, humming in approval.

“Great, so who’s the first?”.

Quickly realising your mistake, you spoke again before everything reverted to a few minutes ago. “Wait, maybe it would be better to do this by dorm order, Heartslabyul will go first”.

It was then when the troublemakers of said dorm started to dispute over who should dance with you first; Ace proclaimed that he should because he met you first, and Deuce responded by exposing his terrible behaviour towards you the first time you met.

Tired of this, you grabbed Ace’s hand, being the first pick because, well, both Ace and Deuce were right.

ACE TRAPPOLA

The gown was of a cheerful ruby colour, the sleeves were wine and since it was Heartslabyul inspired, had a chess design along with some hearts in the skirt. Your hair was tied in a loose braid, a heart shaped accessory placed in the side.

“Are you that excited to dance with me, Prefect?”.

“Deuce was right, you were the first nuisance I met, I thought it was obvious”.

He groaned in embarrassment, recalling the awful treatment he had with you, wishing it would have gone somewhat different.

When he was about to change the subject when your dress changed yet again. You said that that probably was going to happen all night, and that he shouldn’t pay attention to this Barbie style transition.

He definitely doesn’t know what is a Barbie, but he refuses to not pay attention to the dress, teasing you about it, trying to make you blush. That’s where the tables turned and you teased him, making him blush. Great, you broke Ace.

He dances in a messy manner, but he can be serious when he wants to, so I would say it’s a 50/50 final rating.

Sighing at this, you decided it was time to change partners, leaving his hands so you could grab Deuce’s ones. Expect him to be more annoying, maybe even sending Deuce some threatening glares.

DEUCE SPADE

The gown was navy blue, in its majority, a few hints of cerulean peeking up the skirt, the same chess design with some deuces in the corset. Your hair had a bun, it was loose but it didn’t look messy, just a few strands of hair that were out, along with a deuce hairpin.

“You… You look beautiful, Prefect”.

“Thank you Deuce, you also look handsome, but… Your face is very red”.

It’s because he wasn’t prepared for this. Did his mother tell him what to do when dancing with a girl whose dress magically changes every time she changes partners? No, he’s sure she’s not.

As a fun fact, Deuce’s mother sensed something was going on with her son; when Deuce told her what happened, words couldn’t describe how happy she got.

When he does notice the dress, he stays still, not moving for a few seconds until you bring him back to earth, worried about his sudden redness. MC, please, you’re going to kill the poor boy.

His mother tried to teach him how to dance a few times, so he isn’t that inexperienced as one would think, but the problem is that he’s dancing with you, and that makes things complicated.

He doesn’t know if he should feel relieved or sad when you move to continue dancing with Cater. Maybe both, but it’s not like he can’t say something, he still respects his upperclassman even though he wanted to keep dancing with you.

CATER DIAMOND

The gown was of a bright tangerine, a soft shade of red covering the sleeves. A pattern of diamonds was outlined in the corset, subtly placed on it so it wasn’t too flashy. Your hair resembled his, the top part tied back into a ponytail and the rest hanged straight, curling at the ends.

“If I posted this on Magicam, a lot of people will get super jealous of you!”.

“As if, I’m pretty average, I don’t know why someone will get jealous of me”.

Your kindness, tolerance, intelligence, looks, should he keep going? There’s a ton of reasons people will envy you, and he means that as a good thing, really; in his eyes you’re the most stunning person to ever exist.

And apparently you can change clothes magically, we can add that to the list as well.

His dancing is playful, but he’s fairly skilled, talking about random things while he swiftly moves one feet after the other.

He resists the impulse of taking his phone out and taking selfies non-stop, not wanting to disturb you or weird you out in such a moment, when in reality you’re pretty chill about it. If only he knew about it, he would have had thousands of pictures of you and your dazzling self.

He only does it when it’s time to swap, posing with you as he takes a quick snap, posting it with the hashtags: #ballroomprincess #howjusthow #thebeautyandthebeauty, and so on.

TREY CLOVER

The gown was pine, the dark shade of green matching with Trey’s. It seemed to be more nature-like, clovers all around it. Your hair was asymmetrical, and it barely touched your shoulders, looking a little spiky, yet it still looked stylish.

“I thought you weren’t allowed to come, did Grim drag you here?”.

“It’s a long story, but Grim’s the one that made me stay; by the end of the night there will probably be no food left to eat”.

Which is a shame because he prepared a few desserts, Che’nya suggestion, and he wanted you to try some of them specially to see your sparkling eyes as you took bite after bite. Oh well, it would have to wait until Heartslabyul’s next tea party.

But it seems he’s gotten a new sight, you in a dress that magically changed and it’s now matching with him. He doesn’t ask about it, letting himself enjoy this brief moment with you.

He’s a good dancer, and his tall figure makes him look elegant while he waltzes with you, the atmosphere breaking when you switch to a huffing Riddle.

He sighs, leaving your hand so it would take his dorm leader’s. He starts to wonder how he can pass more time with you, maybe a baking date session would make you accept.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

The gown is scarlet and white, hints of black but mostly to softly outline the roses and the hearts placed on it, looking fairly fancier than the other ones, like his dorm uniform. Your hair was in a bun, velvety like for the little crown that was on top to stay still.

“I… I’m surprised to see you here, Prefect”.

“I was surprised as well, but you get accustomed to it… Ah, Riddle, are you alright?”.

He can’t control the blush that creeps up his face. He nods, wanting to look at you in the eyes, yet he can’t help but feeling flustered when you tilt your head in confusion, trying to make eye contact.

Sevens, his mother would be so disappointed at this, what would she say if she found her son wasn’t following proper ball manners? And then he remembers that his mother isn’t there, only you, knowing that you didn’t really care about those in the first place, and he doesn’t know if he should feel relieved or frustrated.

When he sees the dress, he stops dancing for a few moments before continuing, finding the explanation weirder than the dress itself. But he has a limited amount of time and he prefers spending it dancing than trying to find the reasoning of this; even he’s surprised by this thought too.

As said before, his mother taught him how to waltz, so he has experience doing it. Now when it comes to the part of actually dancing… He needs to polish it a little, but the knowledge is there.

Speaking of which, he knows it’s over when you have to shift partners, Leona being the next one. His snarky grin he sends at him is almost enough for him to explode, Trey noticing this and immediately trying to calm him down. Perhaps he can include some ball elements to some of his tea parties, definitely not to spend those with you, no no yes.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

The gown is of a sand colour, golden details all over it to make it look like it was a royal dress; a satin, brown scarf placed elegantly on your arms. A braided chignon hairstyle made it easier to carry a golden tiara on it.

“You really like being in trouble, huh? I didn’t think you would sneak here, herbivore”.

“I like to think that since I come here, I’ve became a Jack in the Box full of surprises, don’t you agree?”.

Sure you are, not only you sneaked in here, but you also sneaked your way into your heart. He’s not stupid, and he won’t say you are, but what he can say it’s that you are pretty dense. Well, in your defence, you do know he treats women differently, so how are you supposed to guess the fondness he shows at you?

This is one of the few, rare moments where you get to see a shocked Leona, his eyes widening at remodelling of your dress, tail swinging in glee. You really are a box full of surprises, aren’t you? He doesn’t know what he should say, choosing to stay quiet, enjoying the calmness that you made him feel.

He would never say out loud though. At least, not now.

He has a royal background, so it makes sense that he knows at least the slightest bit of dancing manners, and he shows that while waltzing with you.

The moment doesn’t last long as you start to back up from him in a strange manner, and his eyes soon found out the reason why. He growls at this, that hyena is going to pay it off for the next days. Either way, he would have done it even if he didn’t intervene.

RUGGIE BUCCHI

The gown is of a dark fawn, blonde highlights in the neckline. Compared to Leona’s, this was more wild-like, giving a light, rustic impression. Your hair had a back Dutch braid, the mid-length complementing the whole look.

“Hey, Prefect, didn’t expect to see you here. And to imagine that everyone made a fuss 'bout this, shi shi shi~”.

“Yeah, I think everybody thinks the same here. There wasn’t really need for you to use your unique magic, I think Leona got mad at it”.

Effectively, he got mad at it and because he stole you. Fair enough, he thinks he can endure a few days of Leona’s working, that meant he got to see you more than him since he would be running his errands.

When he saw the dress, oh boy, man was trying so hard to not blush. The only way to prevent that was by teasing you; just make sure to don’t tease him back, he doesn’t think he can’t handle it.

He knows how to dance, so he’s pretty fluent when waltzing with you, making some “accidental” mistakes so you would step closer to him. That backfires when you cheekily laugh, and the blush he tried to contain creeped up his face.

Just when he thought you were going to see it, you released him, and he was left holding nothing as you giggled at this reaction, now dancing with his underclassman. He frowned but didn’t want to make you mad by using the same tactic, so he let it be.

JACK HOWL

The gown was pearl, similar to the one you were using earlier except that this one was fancier. The skirt had some light golden designs, a few hints of black on it to contrast. Your hair was tied in a classy ponytail, fluffy and shiny, much like his fur when he’s in his wolf form.

“You could get in trouble for being here, don’t you know that?”.

“I’m sorry, do you want me to go?”.

Short answer, no. Long answer, he’s very happy that you’re here, literally everyone can tell just by looking at his tail, wagging uncontrollably. If you try to say something about it, he will deny it, even though it’s still wagging.

He can’t dance that well, but he’s trying, and that’s what counts. Besides, it’s not that noticeable, maybe a few stomps on your feet but nothing too serious.

This dress causes him to leave a quiet gasp, mouth agape for a few seconds until his mind tells him that he should ask you why and what was that transformation. You respond sincerely, telling him that you don’t know and that he should just ignore it.

Like hell he’ll be ignoring this, it’s not something you can so easily ignore, but for the sake of his dignity, he will try. Keyword try, begging that you don’t start to ask questions about his state.

Apparently, you heard his pleads, muttering a little ‘goodbye’ as you now danced with Octavinelle’s sly, but nervous, octopus. He sighs, he didn’t mean it like this, but it was something that was meant to happen soon or later. More soon than later.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

The gown was of a greyish cloud colour, platinum adornments on it that make it look elegant, even though it seemed to approach more of a softer side. A waterfall braid embellishing the “marine” style look.

“My, if it isn’t the Prefect. I’m greatly surprised to see you here, and I also see you’ve made some major changes in your attires”.

“Those aren’t intentional, I swear I don’t know where they’re coming from, but they’re nice, I think”.

Nice? That’s how you would describe them? Your sole being is enough for him to lose his businessman composure, and now you do this, this… How did you call it? Barbie transition? He wasn’t hearing the conversation you had with Ace, what are you implying?

He’s already having a hard time to not let his façade break down, afraid that you may not like him if he showed any weakness, and that’s when he saw the dress, now matching his outfit. Although he still is smiling, what gives him away is the huge blush and his “subtle” coughing, trying to convince himself that he can still talk to you normally, like every other day.

Until he remembers that you don’t usually talk while waltzing, and that is enough for him to sigh in relief, now focusing in not stepping over your feet because of his nervousness.

He knows how to dance, it’s just because of the nerves and the feeling of your curious eyes staring up at him.

A tall figure places himself next to him, and he doesn’t need to look up to know who is, slightly refusing to let you go. Yet he knows that it would not end well for him; the mischievous eel would definitely use this as teasing material. He figures he can make a dance night in the Lounge, only you and him.

JADE LEECH

The gown was teal, and it seemed to be made of a shiny material, some purple laces tied on it as it had a tight and long bow on the left side. You portrayed a half up left side braid, clearly resembling his long streak of dark-grey hair framing his left side.

“You look marvellous tonight, Prefect; may it be because of your presence or your magical dress?”.

“Very funny. Obviously, it’s the dress, the one that I didn’t know had magical properties when I bought it, but thanks for noting my presence”.

Wrong. The dress certainly was a boost to your natural charming nature, but saying that was the only cause of your fascinating self would be an understatement, after all, the main thing Jade and Floyd finds fascination in is how interesting is the person in question, and for him to have romantic feelings for you? With that you can already imagine what he thinks of you.

He waits for the moment your dress changes, and when it does he leaves an amused chuckle. But surprisingly enough, he doesn’t say anything about it, rather enjoying your reactions at it and your comforting company.

He excels at dancing, even making it more difficult for you to keep the pace, and yet again an entertained noise leaves his mouth. He slows down a little, not wanting to exhaust you, as your next partner would be his energetic twin.

Speaking of the devil, he can’t wait for much longer, whining to you both that he wants to dance with you. He leaves no room for complaints, and so you are separated from Jade, who finds this situation more than lively. If Azul ever decides to tell him about his idea of the dance night in the Lounge, he would be more than delighted to share some of his suggestions.

FLOYD LEECH

This gown was the twin of Jade's, also teal and shiny, the purple bow now sided on the right, now messier and easy looking. Your hair is, again, in a half up right-side braid. Similar to the concept of the dark-grey streak of hair on his right side.

“Shrimpy~! Why didn’t you tell me that you were here? We could have passed more time together~!”.

“Sorry Floyd, my mind was a bit of a mess before I got here. But I’m here now, doesn’t that make you happy?”.

He lets out a cute ‘yay~!’, and you are wondering how someone can be so adorable and so frightening at the same time, as his pout quickly disappeared after your kind-hearted question.

He has the same train thought that his brother, and waits for your dress to change. He’s a little disappointed when he sees it at first, I mean, doesn’t it look the same? Until he notices those small details that allure to his right side highlight, and his smile widens so much you can even see his back teeth.

His Shrimpy surely knows how to make him happy! How is he supposed to stop smiling so widely when you can become more interesting by the second? Be warned, this man wouldn’t let you in peace after this, but that applies to almost everything that you do, because for him everything you do can be interesting, and even if they’re not, he would make them interesting just by joining you.

His dancing is… Different. It’s not ballroom dance, that’s for sure, but why should he follow such boring rules when he can have fun spinning you? You agree to some level, but your stomach doesn’t.

He pouts when you try to change, expressively refusing to let you go. He only agrees to when you say you would pass more time with him after, most likely hovering over you the rest of the night. He sure is an Octavinelle student.

KALIM AL ASIM

The gown was of a really light and shiny yellow, almost looking like it was made of gold, softly transitioning to a silver white in the sleeves and neckline. Your hair had a braided crown, a turban like his slightly covering it.

“I’m glad you’re here Prefect! I was going to throw a ball for you since I thought you would miss this one!”.

“There’s no need for that Kalim, but I appreciate the gesture, you’re very sweet”.

You think he’s sweet?

Now nothing is stopping him now from actually throwing a ball in your honour. He usually doesn’t think much when it comes to give you gifts and hosting parties for you, no selfish intention behind it, but if this makes you say that he’s sweet again? He doesn’t have any second thoughts about it, much to Jamil’s annoyance.

When he sees the dress he exclaims a loud ‘wow’, like really loud, he even stops dancing for a couple of seconds because of the initial shock. He didn’t know you could do this, MC, this is awesome! Oh, you didn’t do it? It doesn’t matter, it’s still awesome and nothing can change his mind.

He knows how to dance, and surprisingly, he takes it seriously. His steps are firm, contrasting with his saccharine smile.

He sees Jamil aside, a slight frown as he keeps his gaze locked on the floor, and he decides it’s time to change partners, making you do a twirl and practically throwing you at Jamil’s arm, giving him a thumbs up. He can dance with you later when you come to Scarabia, and by later is tomorrow! He’s just too excited!

JAMIL VIPER

The gown was black, little touches of a flaming red on it, mostly placed on the sleeves to emphasize a fire-like emblem, a golden snake tracing your waist gracefully. A braided bun with a large lock of hair standing on the side of your face, similar to his.

“Aren’t you tired? I’m sure all this dancing is exhausting for you”.

“I’m fine, this is better than watching soap operas alone while Grim sleeps, his snores are so loud I can’t enjoy the drama”.

Watching what? We all know Jamil isn’t much of a trendy and he doesn’t follow the latest entertainment, so he’s confused when you explain this to him. That doesn’t mean he isn’t intrigued, maybe if he wasn’t so busy he could watch this “soap operas” with you, only if you want to though; his worst nightmare is making you uncomfortable.

The transition has him even more confused, and he hopes he had his hoodie right now to hide his face in it, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of you because of that stupid cute blush. He asks about it, and he sighs when you told him the story we already know, already expecting something like this, it’s you who we’re talking about after all.

He’s an A+ dancer, and the great thing about dancing with him is that he understands you can’t follow his moves and accustoms to your moves, making you feel at ease and welcomed.

When he spins you, Pomefiore’s house warden takes your hand in his, now taking the position as your current partner. He leaves a bothered noise, awkwardly staring at you and the Magicam star.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

The gown was black, a violet robe placed on it in a similar fashion like Vil's, the most outstanding feature being its length. Your hair had a side French braid up-do, a tilted golden tiara on it.

“It seems that you’ve finally taken my fashion suggestion, potato”.

“The answer may disappoint you, Vil, but this is not my doing. Although it’s fancy, it can’t rival yours”.

He can’t agree with that; sure, he’s dressed elegantly and his makeup is perfectly done, but that doesn’t mean you’re inferior than him. You’re one of the few people that don’t have the title of “potato” in his head, even though he has it like a nickname for you, but he sees it as an endearing term and he low-key hopes you see it as well. He never really understood the concept of “inner beauty” before meeting you, now getting its meaning.

Vil’s a professional actor, so he only shows the slightest hint of surprise when your dress changes. His blush isn’t a noticeable one, and even if it was, he could have just said that it was a new product, knowing you would believe him. He finds your naïve nature confusing; Neige is naïve, and that bothers him, because he’s Neige, but when it comes to you is just… Endearing.

You’ve practiced with him quite a few times, using it as an excuse to see you since he was pretty busy with the clothing arrangement the week prior to the ball, not really expecting to actually dance with you.

You spot the astute hunter behind him; deciding it was time to change, he reluctantly released you, his face betraying as he scoffed at this, softly enough so you wouldn’t hear it.

ROOK HUNT

The gown was of an iris purple, a short, red cape hovering over your shoulders, looking a lot like a hunter's cape, a black neckline completing the Pomefiore’s colour palette. Your hair was wavy, bob styled, matching with Rook's.

“Quelle beauté! Your beauty is nothing I can ever compare, for it is so endearing that my heart flutters at this magnifique sight!”.

“Wow, I… I don’t know what to say- Thank you, Rook. That’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve said to me, and I encounter you every single day”.

You really think so? Then you should listen to his poetry, dozens of poems dedicated solely to you placed neatly in his drawer, ready for you to read them, or, even better, he can read them to you! He recites them every time he thinks about you, so he knows them by heart.

He’s great at acting, but why should he act when he’s genuinely happy of having you this close? He doesn’t see the appeal in it, he wants you to see how much appreciation he has for you, continuing to spill carefully planned comments, even forgetting about the fact that your dress has just magically transformed. The hovering attention has you stuttering, and he leaves a content sigh at your reaction, basking in your cuteness.

He’s the vice dorm leader of Pomefiore, he knows how to dance, and his gracefulness is something you did expect from him, so there’s no surprises in this part.

He doesn’t put a fight when you have to switch to your next partner, only making a dramatic sight and saying something corny like: “May fate reunite us again”. Rook, you’re going to see MC tomorrow, calm down.

EPEL FELMIER

The gown was lavender, an apple red cloak covering your bare shoulders, the interior being of a velvety black. Your hair was tied in a low, twisted ponytail, some golden apple hairpins on the side.

“Ya’ look pretty… I mean, you look great, Prefect!”.

“Thank you Epel, but you know that you don’t have to hide the accent when you’re with me, right?”.

He forgets how thoughtful you are, how he doesn’t have to act like the perfect boy Vil wants him to be, and how you don’t think of him as weak just because of his “feminine” looks. He’s thankful for that- Correction, he’s thankful for you.

He maybe in Pomefiore, but he has no acting skills, backing off you for a few seconds because of the surprise, immediately recovering from it upon seeing your confused expression. He didn’t mean it as a bad reaction, he saw it before, but he still doesn’t know why or how you do this, only to receive the explanation that you aren’t the one changing your dress, jokingly telling him that if you could do that you wouldn’t be broke. Sad facts, MC, sad facts.

He’s an average dancer. He’s had so many, so many classes with Vil graved in his skull, but not on his body, so he constantly looks at his feet and even like that he makes some mistakes, but nothing you can’t correct.

It was hard to switch partners this time, only because Ignihyde’s gloomy dorm leader was hidden in the crowd. When you did spot him, you had to make your best try at making it as smooth as possible, waving Epel goodbye, who in return waved you as well, being too nervous to actually protest.

IDIA SHROUD

The gown was indigo, the dark colour combining both of Ignihyde's characteristic style, adding some sapphire elements so it would look a little more "futuristic". Your hair had a classic half up-do, the volume matching with Idia's flame hair.

“How did you-? Forget it, of course it’s something the main character would do”.

“Aww, you think I’m the main character?”.

And now his hair is combusting into pink flames, good job MC.

He can’t believe he actually lived long enough to see you like this, and what’s worse better, you spotted him and wanted to dance with him. Is there some kind of manual for situations like this? Maybe he should ask in a forum? Is something he can actually ask? There’s a ton of questions and no answers, but those thoughts disappear when seeing you change of dress and hairstyle yet again.

His dancing skills are… Non-existing. This man doesn’t dance, you have to guide him in the entire waltz, and it’s difficult because he’s standing there, officially classifying as a rock.

You see his younger brother besides, and you can’t help but changing with him, wanting to have a bonding moment with the little boy. Idia’s froze in place, mind racing with thoughts of what could he have done to scare you- Oh, you’re dancing with Ortho, now he’s at ease.

ORTHO SHROUD

This one was a short dress, knee-length; it was lapis, layers of a translucent fabric covering the skirt, looking slightly lighter in colour. Your hair was simpler this time, a short and cute cut with a blue flame hair accessory.

“Hello MC! I’m happy you’re here, thank you for dancing with my brother, he seems much livelier now!”.

“Really? That’s nice to hear, Idia’s not the type to go to these events, so I’m happy if you both are happy!”.

He knows about his brother’s crush on you, and honestly speaking, Idia’s the one that has an advantage against everyone else: He has a cute brother who wants him to be happy. I’m sorry everyone, this is the truth.

This was actually pretty fun, his short height made it easier for you (or not, if you’re tall, can’t relate) to dance with him, and although he’s a robot, he can dance fairly well, giggling when you spin him.

He stops and says that it’s time to switch, according to the data he’s recollected during the night, and because a dragon-fae being is waiting just behind you.

MALLEUS DRACONIA

The gown was all black, the only other colour it had was a bright green, seen in the hem of the cape and the large lace that was tied in your waist. Your hair had a twisted royal bun, a dark crown over it with some black diamonds, outshining the hairstyle itself.

“You always manage to amuse me, Child of Man. May you join me in this dance?”.

“Your old-fashioned talking amuses me too, Tsunotarou, so I will try… It would be a pleasure, noble gentleman”.

The giggle that leaves your mouth after saying those words is music to his ears, holding you in such a fragile manner as if you were porcelain. When he does start waltzing, his eyes focus on yours and only yours; being with you like this makes him forget everything else, choosing to rather enjoy your presence and the warmth that it comes with it.

The dress does break his concentration, fixating his gaze on it for a few seconds before his eyes return to his initial position. It’s not that he doesn’t think you don’t look enchanting, you always do, but even if you wore a potato sack to the ball he would still think of you as his goddess. That’s how much he loves you.

He’s an exceptional dancer; he grew up in a royal environment after all, often practicing with his grandmother and Lilia, but he’s willing to slow down for you. And that’s when his mind wanders about dancing with you at night, the moonlight covering your smooth skin as you both dance till your feet hurt and- Where are you?

It seems he let himself out of guard and now you’re dancing with… His overseer. Did- Did Lilia just stole his Child of Man? DID LILIA JUST STOLE HIS CHILD OF MAN-?

He calms down, knowing that making a scene is considered rude, and so the only thing he can do is… Pout; so he’s now a sad and pouting dragon-fae.

LILIA VANROUGE

The gown was of an opaque magenta, the top being black with some leather belts tied on it. Your hairstyle was asymmetrical, mid-length with a resemblance to his own, some of it flipping upwards, looking like small horns.

“It’s endearing to see you here, dear. I was thinking of even bringing you with me~”.

“Thank you for not doing it, I don’t think I can endure another flying session…”.

That’s a shame, he loves when you cling onto him like your life depends on it, and it low-key does, but there’s nothing to worry about! He would never drop you or let you fall, not even him would joke like that.

He recognizes the type of magic that is causing this, and lo and behold he takes a glimpse at the hidden fairy behind you. He chuckles, not saying a thing to let the show continue, but he’s really intrigued by how you managed to get the attention of such a shy creature, soon remembering that of course it was attracted by you, everyone in this room could say the same.

He’s a good dancer, but he chooses to make it more fun by elevating you a few meters off the floor. You cling onto him, telling him to stop doing that as you slowly tried to reach the marble ground.

When it’s time to change, he spins you dramatically, and you fall right into the arms of the drowsy Diasomnia knight, who woke up at the sudden impact.

SILVER

The gown was white, some simple and silver patterns on it, maybe from a knight's armour. Your hair had a flower braid, specifically a rose, cascading down like a waterfall.

“Prefect…? Are you okay? You look a bit exhausted”.

“I’m fine, Silver, sorry to wake you up this way, it wasn’t my intention”.

He doesn’t mind if you are the one waking him up, and it’s not like this is the first time it has happened either; your clumsy friends always manage to make you fall, and conveniently for you, he’s there, be it catching you or cushioning your fall, but once again, he doesn’t mind.

If he’s being honest, he didn’t pay attention to the dress nor the hairstyle you were wearing at first, and how it magically transformed every time you changed partners, so this background leads him to make a baffled expression, mostly because he isn’t the greatest at showing emotions. He mutters some compliments, but the echoing walls don’t let you hear what he’s saying, much to his invisible frustration.

He’s a calm dancer, and it’s very much like dancing in a fairy forest, animals surrounding you as you continue to be invested in the harmonious waltz.

But that moment breaks when the last boy complains under his breath, probably because he was the only one that hadn’t had his dance with you, and with an apologetic smile, you go to him. He sighs, trying to stay awake, but failing at the end as his breathing regulates in his sleep.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

The gown was lime, some parts had a darker green and others had subtle white highlights. Your hair was now straight, twirling slightly at the ends, which touched your covered neck.

“I’ll give my all in this dance, human!”.

“I know, Sebek. You always give your all in everything you do~”.

Are you trying to use the same tactics you’ve used to seduce his young lord Malleus? That won’t work, human! He’s not weak to your charming smile and lovely eyes, he must stay alert to guard his master from any threats!

Less to say that is a terrible lie; he’s head over heels for you, but can’t express it, not even when the transformation happens for the last time, the enchanting dress and enticing hairstyle had him in a state of shock for five to ten seconds, and when he snaps out of it he wants aka sort of demands to know what’s the meaning of this. He shuts up after hearing that you also don’t know, feeling bad for all the shouting.

He’s a vigorous dancer, his moves are more energetic compared to the others, but not enough that you grow tired of it.

Since Sebek was the last one you were supposed to dance with, you sigh in relief, maybe you can finally rest and maybe even enjoy the rest of the night-

“Prefect! I must know what is the meaning of this!”, here it comes, the problem you wanted to evade.

“Headmaster, hello, I was just, uh…”, you tried to think of an excuse that made sense, even if you knew that everything you said would be a futile attempt to get out of the situation.

“She was making sure everything went perfectly; she helped with the organisation, after all”, announced Azul, him and the eels hiding your figure behind theirs.

“It’s our fault she’s here, we insisted she stayed”, added Riddle, unconsciously joining the barricade, as well as the other Heartslabyul students.

“I appreciate the worrying, but I explicitly said that she nor Grim could take part in this ball”.

“She helped with it, and for her to not be part of it was an act of unfairness”, said Malleus, his cold glare sending shivers down the spine of the kind headmaster.

“I understand your position, but- “, you went out, standing in front of Crowley.

“Guys, it’s okay, I’ll take Grim and then we would return to Ramshackle”, before they could even start complaining, a different voice joined the conversation.

“My, what is this commotion?”, it was the Royal Sword Academy headmaster, Ambrose the 63rd. “Oh, you must be the prefect I’ve been hearing a lot about, it’s nice to meet you”, he presented himself, and you did the same, somewhat intimidated of him.

“It’s nice to meet you too, sir. My name’s MC, and I know I shouldn’t be here but I assure you I was about to leave- “.

“Leave? Who said anything about that?”, your face shifted into a confused expression.

“I was told that some parents had a problem with me and Grim participating of this ball, so that’s why I thought that- “.

His amused laugh shut you up, baffled at this action. “Yes, that’s correct, but it would be cruel to send you home after you made all the way here”.

“Headmaster! The parents solicited- “.

“I know Crowley, but they’re not here, and this young lady has the right to enjoy the same things as their classmates. There shouldn’t be any problem since this is a private event”.

“But I- “.

“You heard that MC!? He said you can stay!”, exclaimed Kalim in excitement.

“I guess so”, you turned to the man that helped you, and bowed in gratefulness. “Thank you, Mr. Ambrose”.

“No worries, dear. Now if you let me, I have to talk some important things with your headmaster”, both of them walked away, Crowley’s shocked expression still placed on his face, and you chuckled at it.

It seems that happy endings do exist in the real life, and if you’re wondering where did the little fairy go… Well, she changed your dress again to the initial gown you wore at first, except that it was more of her liking, with huge bows and puffy sleeves.

But the rest as some say, it’s history.

THE END~

DON'T REPOST.

EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.

HQ characters + not actually unrequited love

Excerpts of requited romantic feelings between you and the person you’re in love with.

(Part one here.)

Pairing: fem!Reader x timeskip!character

Characters: Atsumu Miya, Hajime Iwaizumi, Issei Matsukawa, Kiyoomi Sakusa, Rintarō Suna, Tōru Oikawa

Content tags: timeskip manga spoilers, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romantic fluff, kissing

Word count: mostly between 700-800 words for each pairing, one with around 1000

Keep reading

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Messages, and who they're from [1]

♡ feat: haikyuu and my hero academia

♡ genre: fluff

masterlist

↳ akaashi, kita, aran, ushijima, bokuto, kuroo, sugawara.

↳ kirishima, bakugo, shoto, shinsou.

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may i request a spiderman!kazuha ?? like imagine him knocking on your window to steal u from ur bedroom oh my god.

SPIDERMAN KISSES. kaedehara kazuha

dating the crime fighting hero himself.

ft. kaedehara kazuha x genderneutral reader.

warnings : fluff, slight hurt/comfort, mentions of blood and bruises (not in detail), mentions of falling.

sticky note : SPIDERMAN KAZUHA I HOPE I DID HIM JUSTICE !!! cr to @kazewhara for the "i won't let you fall" part :] also warning this is extremely long,,, uve been warned !!

genshin impact taglist : @irethepotato @cxlrose @avienrose @sohyuki @tb3ih @rqkuya @datu-tadhana @dyedmomijis @dvlfyo @lynnforever @solaxena

pre-relationship.

you're kazuha's first everything. first friend, first crush, first heartbreak, everything. the first time he met you, you'd asked about what he was writing.

he was the new kid, quiet at the back of class, constantly dozing off or looking out the window.

so when you approached him first, he was honestly really surprised, and when you'd asked about his poetry and listened to his rambling, it honestly made his entire month :((

ever since you then, you've been attached by the hip. even at school, he's always been with you, whispering jokes in the middle of class and laughing as you attempt to hide from the teacher.

when he isn't at home, he's almost always at your house, at this point it's a second home to him.

he's practically your un-official roommate at this point. kazuha has to constantly move apartments, and jobs, so the only stability he has is you.

i think kazuha would be the first one to fall between the two of you. at first it's just a small crush, hopeless pining since the two of you were kids.

except everytime he makes an attempt to tell you, or even hint at it, it goes over your head.

you're so oblivious it PAINS him. you're literally cuddling in your bed and you STILL go "we're best friends!"

so for most of your friendship, he's quietly pining, having to stand by as you go on dates, as people ask you out, as you get into relationships! he supports you, even if it's not with him.

when kazuha first gets bitten, his first instinct is to call you and tell you everything. it's like the moment he gets home, he's already dialing your number to tell you about what a day he's had.

you're his best friend, he tells you literally everything. which is why it pains him so much having to keep his identity a secret.

it doesn't help that he SUCKS at keeping secrets. every time he lies, you always, ALWAYS know, it's honestly scary.

kazuha doesn't even know how he managed to keep it under wraps this whole time.

he hates lying to you. it puts a pit in his stomach whenever he does it, but he has to.

eventually, he just starts plain avoiding you because he's sure he wouldn't be able to look you in the eye without spilling everything.

he doesn't sit next to you at school, bee-lining straight to the restroom or to an empty classroom everytime you try to approach him.

he doesn't even reply to your texts anymore, despite you literally BRIBING him.

you: ill buy u,, lunch ,, for the month,, pls reply :(

you: did i do anything wrong? you need to tell me, kazuha.

not talking to you was the hardest thing he's had to do in his LIFE. kazuha has to constantly assure himself that you'll be better off without him, or that he's doing the right thing by protecting you.

i think the breaking point for him would be after one of his first, real battles, he's bruised and sure he has a bleeding nose, but the only thing he can think of is seeing you.

it's 2 am and before he can stop himself, he's already at your bedroom window, watching you work at your desk.

honestly, he wasn't even planning on knocking, kazuha just wanted to look at you for a moment before he had to go home.

but when you looked back at him, he JUMPED out of his skin, nearly falling off your fire escape.

your first instinct was to laugh, but it eventually grew into concern when he didn't reply, you opened your window to peer outside

at that point, kazuha's too deep in to just leave now, so when you offer him a hand, he takes in.

the second he's inside your room, he practically collapses into you. kazuha buries his face into your neck because oh my god he's in your room again and you're hugging him, he forgets he hasn't removed his mask.

"i love you, i love you so much [name.]"

"uhm—spiderman? im? flattered, but im already interested in someone??"

at first he's dejected, mumbling apologies for waking you up and bothering you, crying into the crook of your neck until it finally clicks.

spiderman?

OH SPIDERMAN!

"wait nono—not as spiderman! i meant—agh."

kazuha takes off his mask quickly, then panicks when he realizes what he just did and tried to put in back on and—

you'll have to hold him by his wrists to get him to calm down and not jump out your window.

"where were you?—i mean it wasn't my business but you just stopped talking to me and i was so worried?? and you're spiderman?? i thought maybe i said something?? or you'd gotten hurt and i didn't get to say i love you and—"

kazuha's barely listening when you make him sit down on your bed, gazing up at you with a sheepish smile as you scold him, bandaging his wounds.

when you're finally done with your rant, he's just staring at you. not even trying to hide it, just flat out staring with an unconscious smile on his face.

"you didn't get to say i love you?"

"what."

kazuha laughs, and you don't know how much you missed his laugh until you've heard it again.

he gets up, kissing your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder, breathing a sigh of relief for the first time in a while.

"i love you. i love you, i love you—i love you so much."

he whispers, and you wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't so close to you ear, he said it under his breath, like you were the only person he'd ever want to tell.

during the relationship.

MY GOD HE'S SO ANNOYING

ever since you said you loved him back he's been quietly teasing you for it, as if he didn't confess first.

he's at your apartment more often that he is at his ACTUAL house that you're convinced he's a hermit.

kazuha is either home wayy before you are, or home really late at night.

you'd come home and he's already asleep in your bed, or writing at your desk and he's just ",,, welcome home :D ,, haha,," while you sigh.

or sometimes you come in and he's literally bleeding to death on your windowsill and his only excuse is "i didn't want to get blood on ur bed :("

he calls you his personal nurse whenever you patch him up, mumbling about his day or asking about yours.

i think despite everything, kazuha really doesn't know how he got someone like you.

sometimes, really late at night, he whispers poems and phrases that remind him of you, because despite everything, kazuha doesn't want to cry in front of you.

maybe sometimes he'll slip up and let a few tears shed, but he quickly wipes them and tries to change the topic or simply leave whenever it happens.

you'll have to assure him that he's safe with you, and you wouldn't think for him any differently.

pls do he'll cry but it's actually happy tears

everytime he knocks on your window, he's always EXTREMELY tired, hugging you and dragging you into bed, knocking out as soon as he's sure you're comfortable.

kazuha's always guilty that he has so much to juggle that he tries his best to give you little gifts or notes whenever he can so that you don't miss him when he's gone.

things like sticky notes on your laptop and notebooks, or love letters in between the pages of your textbook, or small bouquets of flowers with handwritten cards attached to them.

he signs them with a spider and a leaf and thinks he's being SOO sneaky acting like he's surprised you got any.

"kazuha, thank you for the flowers earlier."

"flowers???? :O !! ppffftt i didn't get you flowers,,,, you have a secret admirer!!"

but really the only secret admirer is him, constantly staring at you in class and stealing kisses in the hallways

after school kazuha likes taking you on small dates, things like study dates or simply just falling asleep together are his favorites.

sometimes he gets really jittery when he's in one place for too long, but he also hates leaving you so sometimes he lets you come with him to swing around the city!

it's something about feeling like you're flying, one with the wind. (hehe)

he's laughing the entire time as you clutch onto him. planting kisses on the top of your head when he can.

"we haven't even started yet—are you sure?"

has the biggest smile on his face when you agree, even if you can't see it from behind the mask. he's super giggly, partly because of his nerves and because he gets to show you something he enjoys.

although he teases you alot during, he's really attentive. constantly checking if you're okay or if he should stop on some person's roof for a breather.

he can't tell if you're screaming out of pure terror or because of the adrenaline, but he's sure to tighten his grip on your waist anyway.

"KAZU—spiderman if you drop me ill haunt you!! so bad!! >:(!!"

i swear you nearly screamed his full name to the entire city

"don't worry! i won't let you fall— ill always be there to catch you."

he giggles and his breath is hot against your skin, kazuha wants to tease you, but with the grip you have around his neck he can't bring himself to.

instead he just enjoys having you so close to him.

"open your eyes! it's beautiful here."

he whispers but honestly wouldn't hold it against you if your eyes stayed shut the entire time.

when you both finally get down, he gets super surprised if you ask to go again, the adrenaline making you bounce around the room.

you both end up going a few more times before he finally puts a stop to it, saying he's too sleepy to go back and you both have school in the morning.

also!! also also spiderman kisses!!! are his favorite!!

kazuha likes surprising you when he's about to leave for patrol by just randomly popping upside-down in front of you and letting you take his mask off

sometimes, he gets too embarrassed to ask for it, or he likes teasing you, but instead of asking or leaning in he just taps his lip until you get the idea.

but tell him he looks stupid upside down and he'll get grumpy and initiate it himself.

overall, spiderman! kazuha,, sigh,, what a guy ‹3,,,