Capitano darling being his pen pal and poor dear has no idea of his identity
I'm very sorry, I don't know if your requests are open but I can't get enough of Capitano content.
For the Harbingers, I'm open for anything. Also, @bye-bye-sunbird, come and get him! đđź
Exchanging letters with your mysteries pen pal became the absolute highlight of your week. You'd pour your heart and tears into the words your hand would oh so excitedly write down, sometimes even actually crying with the sheer excitement of knowing that somewhere out there, there was a person, an actual person, who cared about you. This person cared about you, they liked you, that is why they sent you their first letter to begin with. The letter itself was short, curt and simple but that did not stop you from writing back and hurriedly giving your reply to the mysterious messenger that appeared on your doorstep one fine summer morning.
Hours upon hours would be spent constructing the letters, sometimes you'd say whatever was on your mind while on other occasions you'd stop yourself and fix your choice of words, promptly going for something much more eloquent and refined, a quality that your mysterious partner seemed to exude in spades.
Their handwriting was neat, clean and proper, you imagined they must be singing papers often if they had such pretty handwriting. You would let your curiosity sway you and there were times when you wanted to know what your dear stranger did for a living but they were oddly mysterious about their occupation, which was strange considering just how intimate and open they were about other matters such as what kind of tea they drank in the morning, general preferences and hobbies, silly things like that made you even more curious about your darling stranger. You did manage to get somewhat of an answer out of them one day though, but it was still as vague as it possibly could be.
"I feel bad about hiding things from you, but to put it in the best way I can, I work for the military. That is the best answer I can give to you at the moment."
Ah, so you were talking to a military personnel? How interesting!! Again, curiosity got the better of you and you persisted with your questions, but more careful as you fared you'd offend them. You were under the impression that your dear stranger wanted to say more to you but was holding back for whatever reason.
Months flew by, almost a year, you were done holding back yourself.
It was time for everything to come out into the light, you thought to yourself.
You wanted to meet the person who made you feel so good, you wanted to see them, him, in the flesh.
It wasn't hard to decipher that the sender was a man. The smell of sharp cologne and pine wood still lingered on the letters you kept hidden in the drawer of your desk and the strong choice of words at time were a strong indication that this man was not willing to deal with anyone's nonsense, aside from indulging himself in yours.
Under the moonlight and with a flickering candle right next to you as your only light source, you wrote to him, you wrote to him your longest letter by far. Mistaking your curiosity and infatuation with the beautiful feeling of love you proclaimed your feelings to him and boldly announced that you wished to meet him, to see him for who he was.
"When you see me, I wish for you to kiss me, kiss until I am sick of it."
Never before had he replied back with such downright monstrous speed. He sent you but a piece of paper, with just one sentence on it, blood red ink sticking in your memory as you read it out loud in the comfort of your room.
"You wish is my command."
Overjoyed would be an understatement with how you were feeling at that moment. As you danced around your room while clutching the letter tightly to your chest, you never stopped to consider just how the two of you were going to meet or how he was even going to find you, let alone kiss you breathless. Alas those worries never even crossed your starstruck mind as you eagerly awaited to be swept off your feet by your Prince Charming. Living in a fairytale is charming but it would have done you well to stay intact with the real world too.
Whispers of lingering shadows and Fatui soldiers started to plague your village, several of your neighbors constantly felt the need to remind you to keep vigilant and to lock your doors at night, do not ever trust the Fatui.
Never open the doors for anyone, never.
Looking back on it, you regret spacing out in the middle of their monologues.
The seasons had passed and winter had come, a thick layer of pure white snow decorated the earth below you as the strong wind and harsh snowflakes found their way inside of your home due to the powerful wind that was bellowing all around you. A few snowflakes even managed to lose themselves inside of your clothing and hair but their icy chill was nothing compared to the large, gloved hand that lovingly caressed your chin.
Standing in front of you was a man, a man with whom you had never crossed paths with in your whole entire life. His entire aura, his being was radiating absolute control and calm. The dozen of men behind him kept their distance but it was obvious that they were ready to charge in if need be.
What was a Fatui Harbinger doing at your doorstep?
His face was much closer to your own now and it was Impossible to read him. His entire body language was rigid and firm, it left no spaces for speculations, especially the daunting mask that he wore on his face. Aside from the few strands of ebony black hair on the sides this man revealed nothing about himself to you, cornering you not only in your own house but in your own mind too.
What was he going to do to you?
A sigh escaped him, hot air came out of his mouth as he stepped closer, his feet nearly crossing the threshold of you home.
You didn't even see that you were shaking like a leaf.
"How long do you want us to stand here in the cold, dear?"
He spoke, he said something to you but your brain hardly registered it. But his next words were something you could most definitely not ignore:
"I came here to fulfill my promise to you..."
The lower part of his mask had been removed, his pale lips on full display. They hovered over your own for a few moments.
"Hoe about we finally share that kiss?"
Before you could even think about answering, he pressed his lips on yours, claiming them for himself as he made sure to swallow every single little sound you made.
You always dreamed of living in a fairytale, of finding your own prince. But how could you have forgotten that not all fairy tales have a happily ever after?
âhey, xiao?â
he hums, so quiet and relaxed you almost donât hear him. this sleepy state is not new to you, but heâs so vulnerable and pliant under your fingers itâs overwhelming. his head rests against your shoulder, back against your chest as your fingers press lightly against his stomach, hands crossed loosely. he sighs, then, head lolling to rest the bridge of his nose against your jaw - a silent question.
you smile, kissing his forehead. the warm night breeze that blows through the roof of wangshu inn agitates the leaves, some falling down. the noise is soothing and the adeptus in your arms twitches, an indication heâs not really sleeping, not quite yet, but heâs close. he glows softly, ethereal in the moonlight. you rest your cheek against the top of his head and he leans more into you.
âthank you for trusting me.â
prompt: cooking with them + "show me where it hurts."
STARRING. cyno
requested by: @1eaf-me-alone | MODERN AU | warnings: cuts, blood, written before cyno and sumeru's release
NOTE. thank u for the request, raine!! lovesick cyno is the best cyno also yes i am on hiatus but whenever i say that i am i usually write right after
cyno considers himself an adequate cook.
as in, if he's left alone, he can survive off of a few banger instant noodle recipes and combinations. however, that's only a few, and cyno isn't keen on testing his luck.
but he supposes this is nice.
this, as in, being with you. he supposes that sharing his slightly-cramped kitchen feels better than having it all to himself, and he also supposes that the view of your furrowed eyebrows and concentrated eyes look especially... comfortable?
it just feels right. it feels right when the sound of knives hitting chopping boards resound through the apartment, it feels right when a comfortable silence envelopes the two of you because oh, words aren't necessary when it is just the two of you.
cyno likes this. he likes being with you, he likes basking in your presence and in the present because this, this could be his future, too.
archon, how he hopes it is his future.
his breath hitches when he hears you hiss, and all of a sudden, cyno's facing you fully. vermilion eyes scrutinize your form as you hide your hand behind your back, a twitching smile taking over your lips.
"[name]," he says sternly. he doesn't even need to add anything else, because the way he declares your nameâbarely above a whisperâserenades the silence with a gentle question of, "what happened?"
you, however, know better than to tell cyno about your slight mistake. he's going to overreact, you think. as level-headed as he usually is, cyno is quick to worry whenever you're involvedâit's a habit of his.
it's also your habit to downplay these situations, brushing them off with the slight excuse of, "nothing."
and then, cyno narrows his eyes. he takes a step closer, your waist now pressed against the kitchen counter as he glares at you chillingly. somehow, those warm irises ice over and make you wonder, has the arctic always been red?
"show me where it hurts," he states blandly. cyno is quick to deduct what happenedâto him, it's obvious in the way you frown slightly and the way you cradle your hand behind your back.
the more he thinks about it, the more he worries. what if you're bleeding a lot? why aren't you showing it to him? so many thoughts whirl around his head as he tries to ease them because oh, you're hurtâyou're hurt.
"it doesn't hurtâ" you get cut off by his intimidating stare, your figure drooping before holding out your hand for him to examine. cyno lets out a sigh of relief once he sees your fingers properly.
his own hand comes to hold yours, digits avoiding where blood seeps as he rushes to find the first-aid kit.
truthfully, the boy was worried you had cut your whole hand off (he doesn't have very high expectations when it comes to you, injuries, and lying) but thankfully, it's only a minor cut on one of your fingertips.
you're still not off the hook, though. just because it's not as bad as he thought doesn't mean it's not badâcyno absolutely detests the roses that bloom across your skin, the scent of metal sweeping over his senses instead of delicate dew.
"why'd you try to hide it?" he asks, not looking up at you. his hands carefully disinfect your fingers, actions hesitating and stalling whenever he hears or feels you fidget because he hates itâhe hates your uneasiness, your pain.
"it wasn't that big of a deal," you mumble, and cyno's fingers come to grip around your unscathed palm; he squeezes it lightly, glaring at you with his seemingly indifferent irises.
"don't say that."
and then he resumes working.
deft hands bandage your cut, lacing themselves in between your other fingers as cyno leans closer towards you, narrowed eyes making themselves even more present as the boy merely huffs.
"you're kicked out of the kitchen," he says, breath tickling your face.
you gasp in offense.
"hey! i can still work!" you exclaim, but cyno's hands are already on your shoulder, ushering you outside to sit at the table instead.
"no."
that word alone shuts down all of your protests as you merely pout, resorting to your second option: have a pity party until cyno gives in! however, the boy is completely immune to this!
still, as you slump into your seat, cyno returns to the kitchen before sparing you one last glanceâand ah, his smile, his lovely smile, engulfs his face in a tide of taken because he, he is so, so taken.
the way he looks at you speaks measures once the comfortable silence devours the kitchen and empty stomachs whole.
you're my future, huh?
pairings: childe, kazuha, albedo, xiao, itto, scaramouche, zhongli x gn!reader
summary: they say high school is the most memorable point in a personâs life, youâre more than inclined to agree. or, genshin men as the different types of people you meet in high school! (all of them can be connected if you squint)
note: gender neutral but implied afab for ittoâs part only, no pronouns, mentions of weed and smoking in kazuhaâs part, scaraâs part is def my favorite
CHILDE
Adrenaline junkie. Gets into fights almost everyday, to the point where everyone wonders how he hasnât been expelled yet. His family is filthy rich and pays the school hush money disguised as donations.
Seeing him beating someone up is such a common occurrence that most students just walk by whenever it happens. Which is why heâs completely surprised to see you approach him after he lost a fight, sitting by the water fountain and sporting a busted lip and yellow bruises all over his face thatâll turn purple tomorrow.
Turns out itâs not because of some misplaced sympathy that made you approach him that day, you just wanted to ask him if he knows where your friend Yelan went after she beat him in a fight earlier. He tells you he doesnât know but he heard her mutter something about going to the restroom to clean up the blood on her knuckles, so thatâs a good place to start looking. You thank him for his help, eyes lingering on the injuries caused by your friend for a moment before taking your leave.
Maybe itâs guilt at how uncaring you must have seemed in the face of his injuries, at leaving so quickly without even asking him if heâs okay, but the next time you see him after another fight, you give him a box of bandaids with cute heart designs. It was the only box left in the store so you had no choice but to buy them, better something cutesy than nothing. You say itâs for the cuts in his face and split skin of his fingers.
When he opens the box and sees the heart designs, his face lights up like a christmas tree. He thanks you with a grin and says the bandaids remind him of the ones his younger sister always gives him.
The next time you see him is across the cafeteria, wearing the bandaid designed with hearts despite the teasings of his friends. When he catches you looking his way, he sends you a wink and gestures to the bandaid on his cheek before returning his attention to his friends. Yelan asks you what that was about, but you smile and tell her itâs nothing.
KAZUHA
The schoolâs local weed dealer. Completely unexpected given his friendly and calm demeanor, but in hindsight, thatâs probably the reason why heâs never been caught. Word has it that if youâre willing to pay enough money, he can contact a few of his friends and get you some coke.
For some reason though, he never allows you to buy anything from him, nor does he let you take a whiff when he smokes.
You first meet him while walking through the back of one of your schoolâs buildings to avoid getting detention. Itâs there that you see Kazuha leaning on the wall, roll in hand as he blew smoke into the air. Maybe itâs the fact that youâre both going to detention should you get caught, you for cutting classes and him for smoking something thatâs probably weed, but you walk right up to him, plop yourself beside his legs, and ask him how shitty his day is for him to be smoking out in broad daylight. He laughed as a response, and the rest is history.
Not once in all your time as friends has he ever let you take a hit, even just for a brief moment. Going so far as to refuse even when you offered to pay double the price. His only explanation was that smoking is a bad habit you should never try. When you called him on his hypocrisy, he only smiled that familiar smile that somehow made him look like a gallant knight and told you he doesnât want his friends to form an addiction.
Pointing out that his usual customers mostly consist of his friend group, he looks at you with something you canât quite read. Amusement? Fondness? Or maybe heâs just high. When you ask him why heâd sell weed to Heizou and Yoimiya but not you, his only response was, âBecause they arenât you.â
The next time you meet up with your shared friends and recount the conversation you had with Kazuha, they laugh and clap you consolingly on the back, all while calling you oblivious.
ALBEDO
Top student. Completely effortless in getting the highest marks.
âOh, the test? No, I didnât study for it,â he tells you, and you think you finally have a companion in the âsurely failing because they didnât study team,â but then the test results come out and he singlehandedly scores perfect marks.
He offers to tutor you when he sees you lamenting over your failed chemistry test. Itâs a once in a lifetime opportunity to be taught by the smartest student in your school, so you immediately take him up on that offer. Heâs surprisingly good at teaching, doesnât use complex words and tries to dumb down an explanation without sounding condescending.
It shows in the form of your next test result, showing only two mistakes out of fifty items. In your excitement, you ask him what you can do in exchange for him teaching you. Surprisingly, he asks if he can sketch you. Seeing nothing wrong with the request, you readily agree.
He doesnât let you see the sketch until after itâs done. It takes bugging him in the middle of class, sitting next to him at lunch, and a lot of canoodling on your part to let you take a peak at his drawing. Still, he remains stubborn, so youâre left to wait until he actually finishes it.
When he does show it to you, itâs during the end of class just as everyoneâs leaving their seats after the bell rings. The sketch depicts you with the happiest grin youâve ever seen on your face. Youâve never once thought of yourself as anything but average in terms of looks, but Albedo seems to have a way of making people more beautiful than they are.
When you say so to him, he blinks at you and says he didnât modify any features on his sketch, he just drew you exactly how you look in his eyes.
XIAO
The one people think is a delinquent. His aloof nature and the perpetual frown on his face donât exactly help with his reputation. Heâs your classmate, but he always keeps to himself and rarely engages in class activities unless necessary.
Your teacher partners the two of you up for a class project. You notice him looking distinctly uncomfortable at having to work as pairs once the announcement was made, so once youâre able to, you propose the idea of working on your own respective parts and compiling your works at a later date because he seems to prefer working on his own.
To your surprise, he says no to your idea. He tells you itâd be more difficult to complete the project that way and that he doesnât really mind working with you.
The deadline for it is two months away, but both of you agree on getting an early start. Thatâs how you find yourself sitting beside him in the library everyday after school, typing away on your laptop and taking notes on your notebook. Heâs actually a great partner, always asks for your opinion and gently corrects you whenever you make a mistake.
It isnât until youâre working late at the library and he returns with snacks and drinksâyour favorite snacks and drinks that he sheepishly admits he remembered from a passing remark you made weeks agoâthat you realize that Xiao isnât the aloof person you initially thought he was. He can actually be very thoughtful, he just doesnât get much chances to show it to others.
On one particular day, after you spent the day away in the library until the sun came down, he offers to walk you home. He then realizes how presumptuous that must have sounded and mutters a quick ânever mind.â But before he can leave, you tell him you wonât mind if he walks you home.
The walk home is quiet, but itâs a nice sort of quiet. Comfortable. The only incident that happened on the way was when you encountered a drunk man, and before he could make a step towards you, Xiao was already looking at him with a cool glare that managed to scare the drunkard off.
He offers to walk you home again the next day, and the day after that, and so on. Even after youâve submitted your project, he continues to walk you home. One day, when you get the courage, you hope you can finally ask him out for coffee sometime.
ITTO
An actual delinquent. He and his gang can usually be found loitering the hallways or spending time in detention.
You once run into him and his gang when you were out of class for a restroom break, all of them crowding outside the entrance to the girlâs restroom. Apparently, Shinobu, their gangâs second in command, is on her period but they donât know where to get any tampons and pads âcause she forgot to bring some with her. You offer to give her your spare.
Itto thanks you by buying you lunch, saying you saved the Arataki gang from total destruction because they wouldâve never survived without Shinobu. You think heâs overreacting a bit, but free foodâs free food.
You feel a little bad once you find out he spent all his money on the meal he bought you, so you offer to buy him something in return. He tells you he owes you for it, and the next day heâs right outside your classroom holding a plastic bag full of take-out. The next time you walk past him in the hallways, you give him a muffin from the box you just bought.
It becomes a routine, giving each other food whenever the two of you see each other. Sometimes, you even sneak into detention just to give him some sweets, and sometimes he disrupts your class by barging in just give you a candy bar. He always gets detention afterwards.
When you ask him why he keeps doing it, he said he likes the surprised smile that always brightens your face whenever he shows up at your classroom unannounced.
SCARAMOUCHE
The principalâs son. Incredibly spoiled and thinks he owns the place. Never gets in trouble because his motherâs the principal and everyone is too scared to report him.
Until you did.
You can still remember the shocked look on his face when he turned around after deliberately tripping poor Bennett and saw Miss Yae, your schoolâs guidance counselor, right behind him. You donât know the exact details, but you heard he was sent to the principalâs office and given a severe lecture by his own mother. Word has it he came out the office looking like he was ready to murder something.
Somehow, he finds out that youâre the one who reported him. He instantly makes it his goal to make your life a living hell. Unfortunately for him, the faculty has been keeping a close eye on him so he canât do anything too incriminating. From glares in the hallways to pretending not to see you as he âaccidentallyâ bumps into you on the bustling corridors and making you drop your stack of papers to the floor.
When your friends found out, they immediately urged you to report his behavior directly to the principal, so thatâs what you did. You were on your way to the principalâs office when you hear a sniffle coming from the closed door of the nearby stairwell. Concerned, you open the door with the intention of comforting whoever might be crying behind it, only to come face to face with the surprised expression of Scaramouche.
He quickly wipes away his tears and fixes you with a glare that could have killed anyone on the spot. But the damage has been done and youâve seen what youâve seen, so his glare barely has any effect on you, not when his eyes are still red and thereâs dried tear-tracks on his cheeks. You stare at each other for a few moments before you offer him your handkerchief and tell him you donât know exactly why heâs crying but that itâll get better. He tells you to get out but not before accepting the handkerchief you offered.
Needless to say, you donât go to the principalâs office after.
He stops bothering you after that incident, but you once catch sight of him with his friends outside school. One of them starts talking about you, badmouthing you in front of him in an attempt to cater to the well-known fact that he hates your guts. He doesnât even get to finish his sentence before Scaramouche snarls at him to shut up.
The next time you pass him by the hallway, you give him a small smile. He hastily turns his head away, but not before you catch sight of the redness at the tips of his ears.
ZHONGLI
The handsome senior everyoneâs developed a crush on at least once in their life.
The two of you didnât exactly meet at school. It was back when you were still a freshman and Zhongli was a sophomore, though even then he was already popular. The coffee shop near your school was packed and the only seat left was the one in front of you, so naturally, thatâs when he comes in asking if the seatâs free.
You were still relatively friendless back then, no familiar faces yet since it was only the beginning of the school year, so being approached by a popular sophomore felt like a dream to you. He was kind and patient, even going so far as to help you navigate through school during the first few weeks of adjustment.
You developed a silly crush on him during those weeks that only faded when you became closer to him and realized how much of that popular persona he had were just for show. Youâd lost count of the amount of times you had to pay for both your meals just because he forgot his wallet at home, or how many times you almost fell asleep once he went off on a tangent about one such thing or another.
But even so, heâs one of the best friends you made in school.
Youâre the one he goes to for help in choosing a university for college, and the two of you spend an entire night at your house brainstorming and writing down the pros and cons of each school. You have differing personalities and opinions, but by the end of it, youâre both satisfied with his decision regarding the school he chose.
And then you pass out on your couch after pulling that all-nighter. When you wake up, thereâs lunch laid out on the dining table and a handwritten note from Zhongli.
To my beloved dearest friend, I hope you enjoy the meal and have a great day :)
ASHHHHH THAT THAT THAT VENTI OST YOU JUST MADE PLEASE CAN YOU SHARE MORE
this post was just a blurb i wrote out randomly hehe but hereâs a few hcs about it!
venti doesnât actually know the future in the sense that he sees what will happen, no. what he has is knowledge of all songs regardless of its time and place of origin, whether itâs from the past present or future.
now, he normally wouldnât pay much attention to songs written in tribute to a person, but your case is a little⌠different. where thereâs thousands of people whoâve had songs written in their honor, you have thousands of songs written for you alone.
heâs never sung them out loud before, not until the time is right, but he finds himself drawn to the songs about you, retelling stories that have yet to happen about your journey in this world and the impact you will have on teyvat. youâre very much like a certain traveler who will one day land in this world, but youâre an even greater mystery than the traveler. youâre a person beyond worlds and dimensionsâor at least, thatâs what heâs gained from the songs that will be made about you.
itâs only when heâs a thousand years older after the fall of old mondstadt, his singing more refined and his tune more established, like an artist developing a signature art style, that he realizes that more than half of the songs written for you will be made by his hand.
he wonders and wonders and wonders for the next millennia if he will adore you as much as he seems to adore you in his songs, but⌠maybe he doesnât have to wonder. even now, having only known you through songs and tunes, he finds it in himself to leave a space for you within his heart.
a thousand years pass, and he continues to be lulled to slumber with the hymns about you crooning in his ears. when he awakens, itâs to a different song this time, a new one. he laughs, the winds quickening in time with his beating heart. finally, the seeds of wind has changed.
he feels your presence before he hears your voice. âventi!â you shout before tackling him in your arms. and this, this is something he has dreamed about since he first heard your songs, wide-eyed and young and unfamiliar to the ballads of this world, and so he lets himself feel elation and excitement as he embraces you. thousands of years of waiting finally over.
and when you smile at him, claiming how much you adore him and how youâve always wanted to meet him, he finally understands. ah, he thinks, it seems heâs not the only one whoâs been longing to meet someone theyâve never met.
slam that reblog button like how those youtubers say smash that like button lmao
Every url that reblogâs will be written in a book and shown to my homophobic dad.Â
Ou? I got tagged again lmao
I still don't know anyone else to tag lmao I'm too shy to interact with anyone here
@astralnike
New picrew chain idea: yourself vs what you looked like as a kid
Free for anyone to join in
Link
aH I see
YOU LIAR @messier-m87
If this is true
A/n: I got sick but it just so happens I live off of spite so I finally finished this fic. Most characters are a bit/really obnoxious here. Also, the reader's state of mind and relationships with friends are unhealthy so if you're sensitive to the following CW please skip this fic. (If you're wondering why the fic is... Like this then here's me rambling here)
Unreliable synopsis: You kissed the most popular professor on campus. (Subtle yan!fic)
gn!reader
Cw: yandere, unhealthy friendship dynamics with clingy!sucrose & other characters, student/teacher relationship implications, the reader is an eccentric "class clown" with implied mild impostor syndrome, and small mentions of sexual harassment. (I'm not a medical professional so please take the impostor syndrome warning with a grain of saltâ just added it in case this type of content is triggering. This isn't smut and it doesn't fully explore the last topic, but still please reach out for support if you are a victim of sexual harassment. Title IX is a very real thing.)
-------
"Does accidentally kissing someone cross a line in Title IX?"
That sentence alone makes you sound incredibly criminal out of context, and it doesn't get better with it either.
Your long-time friend, Sucrose, became fixated on setting you up with a romantic partner after the breakup you had three months prior.Â
It was not a heart-wrenching tale, if anything, the entire relationship you had with Arataki Itto plays off as a major joke. You dated the man simply because you thought his impulsive behavior was entertaining, and oddly enough, he found your unpredictable temperament alluring. You just never anticipated that the idiot will buy an overpriced toy drum when you asked him to get a coke and "get something for yourself as well."
It's no surprise you permitted him to spend your money. But that wasn't even supposed to be a gamble. That was just an instruction, and he failed HARD. Arataki "I-swear-you-didn't-say-Pepsi(???)" Itto... got you orange juice.Â
Breaking up was a huge relief. Instead of adopting a façade of the partner he wants, you have at last discovered the temporary freedom to choose over what you enjoy. For a while, they didn't treat you like a court jester; instead, they gave you the tender care you'd reserve for a helpless person.
Sucrose was distraught when you two decided to stop everything after Itto wasted most of your money by falling for Dori's scam. She appeared to be more affected than you two. Sucrose must have thought of you two as "the Golden pair" since she is naturally fascinated by research about personalities and relationshipsâ more notably the 16 personality types. Seeing you two break up was an antithesis to her defense on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator test. You broke up due to (financial) differences, and there's no unreliable science needed to learn that.
Here lies the problem: Sucrose refused to give up.
You've heard concerns about her callous demeanor in person and online. Some people thought it endearing that you have a friend who genuinely cares about you, while others consider her nagging to be a burden, and rightfully so.
You felt icky after accidentally seeing her list of candidates, yet you can't bring yourself to make a strong effort to stop her. Sucrose lost two of her best friends last year in an accident, and you are essentially the only support that's keeping her sanity in check, but sometimes you feel as though you are risking your health on the line. She had written down some questionably extensive background on every man and woman she thought was worthy... You don't even want to know why Ajax is on that list.
No matter the reason, that didn't stop Timaeus from barfing out his triple-layered peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
"W-WHAT on EARTH did you DO this time?!"
Sure is tough being a menace to society.
Hah... You're already on the brink of a mental breakdown and yet you still kept making self-deprecating jokes.
"WHAT'S with THE reaction?" You asked, casually copying his tone before you sank to your seat. "It's JUST a QUESTION."
"We know how you work, (Y/n)!" He knew you were purposefully trying to rile him up, yet Timaeus slammed a fist on the table in exaggerated disgust. "You did the EXACT same thing last time. You asked us 'hOw bAd woUld iT bE iF I datEd a gaNgstEr' and then you fucking did it anyways! What the hellâ heck."
Timaeus's outburst was audible throughout the entire cafeteria, yet nobody seemed to care. The other people you shared the table with, Ying'er, Collei, and Tighnari all cast curious glances at you. It's not as though they have never heard of your misadventures before, frankly, whenever something happens they avidly observe it. You're all inseparable because of your shticks. However, apart from Sucrose, Dorian had been awol from your friend group, and it is no less due to the headline you're about to announce.
None of them took you too seriously, which they should have, given the nature of Title IX. As "good" friends, they should've worried over your safety and overall wellbeing.Â
You could feel tears of fear and frustration swell up in your eyes.
Yet you couldn't be mad at them for reacting this way.
You're the chaotic linkâ the friend that didn't quite fit inâ assigned to the role of being the "funny one." It started with a single joke until you unintentionally formed a false sense of confidence that you're something bigger than what you are. Everyone thinks you're hilarious, and you're afraid of disappointing them. You weren't trying to be funny most of the time, they just want someone to laugh and point at. Even though you are academically above average yourself, without your carelessness and gambles, you practically have nothing to offer this otherwise brilliant population.
Timaeus may not always deliver the right answer in his alchemy test papers, but he's never wrong about you even if he's drunk off of two bottles of Death After Noon. You recall Timaeus specifically in that instance because he was right; you have no future and you won't amount to anything.
In short, your image dilemma can be summed up by something you said high out of your mind in front of the mirror: "I think I accidentally gained an ego after joking about being hot and sexy one too many times, and now I'm being punished for my hubris." (You're never asking Lisa for philosophy book recommendations on Sundays ever again.)
And if it's true that you have no future and that you're nothing more than an insecure fraud, then you might as well come clean right now and let your "friends" break their ties. It doesn't matter, not anymore.
Ying'er laughed heartily. Contrary to her lover, she loves it whenever you act like this since it makes her normally composed and optimistic boyfriend snap and curse... You would know because she constantly divulges pointless details about how "hot" it was in private messages. And you two weren't even that close when she first did that. But now she's practically your unofficial attorney with how many times she played devil's advocate. You'll miss her.
"Why are you already accusing them? Who knows, maybe they're the victim here, babe. You're being too insensitive."
"Yeah, Tim, you should listen to your girlfriend over here." You nudged him and he glared vehemently.
"(Y/n), you're not supposed to openly agree with me, but yeah, why don't you give them the benefit of the doubt?"
You gave Ying'er a weak friendly wink and a thumbs up, feeling repulsed at yourself deep down. It's incredibly flattering for her to insinuate a professor would find you attractive rather than filing a restraining order.
She'll probably hate you once she finds out the truth, right? She did have a crush on your victim.
"This is them we're talking about." Timaeus glared. "They're bound to do something stupid. C'mon, Tighnari, say something!"
Tighnari merely shrugged and stabbed his fork into a mushroom (presumably poisonous, given its unnatural blue color). He had grown tired of dealing with your antics over the years. No lecture had ever worked in the past, and you both telepathically agreed that streak was not going to end today. You're lying about being self-possessed. He knew that whenever this happens, you were trying to be an idiot, and did not allow yourself to be an idiot. There's a fine difference between those two, and he knows which is which.
In a way, Tighnari views you in a more positive light than most of your friends. And he could sense that you have more grave matters to say.
So, he played along to help you set the mood. "I said this yesterday and I'll say it again: we're studying to become botanists. We're growing plants. Our future job isn't to help them grow a brain."
"Facts." You snapped your fingers and smugly nodded.
"Don't just agree with him!"
"You can grow plants all you want but just know my Timaeus right here doesn't need any more growing if you catch my drift~."
"Ying'er." Collei groaned.
"What? I was just saying his height is perfect enough as it is."
"I feel like we're having thirty different conversations at once."Â
"Your mother is thirty different conversations at onceâ"
"Mx. (L/n)."
The table went silent. Except for yourself, who's still droning on, unfinished. Everyone noticed the uninvited man in the cafeteria and their lips were silenced.Â
Here he is.Â
"âeeegood evening, Professor Albedo." You stood up from your seat and slightly bowed your head down.
It's the untouchable Professor Albedo. The Alchemy Professor on this forsaken campus exudes a breath of freshness even if the scent of chemicals follows him like an affectionate dog. The only person that students would ogle at amid all the balding learning facilitators. Sucrose's mentor. Dorian's 32-year-old brother. The "Kreideprinz".
And the guy that might just sue you for your careless mistake.
Your circle caught the tension between you two and started watching the scene unfold like a car accident.
Professor Albedo cocked his head forward. You never claimed to be one of his adoring fans who can spot his emotions after one look, but your gut tells you that he's more than amused despite his stoic expression. He's similar to Dorian in that aspect.
"I trust that you've read the excerpt I've sent you?" He asked in almost a whisper.
You thoughtlessly lamely pulled up your library-borrowed copy of Title IX. In your perspective, nothing matters anymore, so you might as well let it out there.
Your friends jolted simultaneously, someone even dropped their utensils while Collei hit her knee up the table and hissed at the pain.
"Oh my God..." Timaeus shuddered.
Your friends had the face that collectively screamed "YOU MADE OUT WITH PROFESSOR ALBEDO?!" in all capitals, bold, italics, underlined, shadowed with thick black strokesâ whatever makes it more out there. They're not in the wrong to react that way.Â
In one single move, you broke 2 rules on the so-called Bro Code, one being the infamous "don't fuck my brother" and the second being the lesser known "don't fuck my professor". Not only that, but most importantly you violated a line or two in Title IX.Â
Leave it to (Y/n) (L/n) to break more than three rules on the daily.
... You really should stop making jokes as a coping mechanism.
The cafeteria started to murmur, urging their seatmates for information they don't have. You released a small, clipped laugh. You should've thought that one through.
Tighnari meets your eyes with a sympathetic stare. You could tell he had more to say, but your heavy heart no longer wished to know.
"... Great work." The professor said just as nonchalantly. No doubt, he tried to salvage your reputation but you sabotaged it yourself. How wasteful. He beckoned you forward with one finger.Â
"Come with me. We'll talk somewhere more private."
You walked away from your table and gave them one look.
They were incredibly disturbed to see a small sad smile on your face, rather than the wide mischievous grin that they were used to. After seeing that, they all had one emotionally detached thought in mind:
So, it wasn't a joke after all.
--------------
You neither like nor dislike Professor Albedo.
There are multiple fluffs about how friendly and dorkish he is as a reclusive person, but none of them sparked your interest. You often feigned reactions whenever Dorian expresses his apparent disdain for his more successful brother, and your sly smile barely reaches your eyes. If anything, hearing about the same man over and over again makes him feel oversaturated rather than entertaining. He's too perfect in those gossips that you're bored to tears.Â
At least the rumors were positively right about one thing: his tastefully braided blonde hair and blue eyes make him no lesser than a portrait of a prince. But no more special than Dorian, in all honesty. You wouldn't be able to know which is which if they wore similar clothes and let their hair down. They're like clones of each other.
Albedo kept fidgeting a hand inside his pocket, and you can't hazard a guess as to what it is. A recording device, perhaps? You pride yourself on your ability to read and toy people like clockwork. That ability, however, does not translate well with Professor Albedo.Â
You snapped out of your trance as the professor began reading what was on his clipboard.
"(Y/n) (L/n). 27. Graduate School. Taking a Ph.D. Botany programâ though if I hadn't known that, I would've guessed you were a music major." Albedo vaguely pointed at your face without looking. "Your tongue would've fooled me."
You flinched. Is he teasing you or scolding youâ you can't make sense of his tone. He's too monotonous.
"Professor, are you uncomfortable right now? If so, I could leave if you wish and we can talk via email instead about your complaint."
Professor Albedo eyed you carefully this time, even though he's squirmish. The tone you used to address him and your overall body language differ greatly from how you behave in the company of your friend group. Your professionalism does not match how the rumors perceive you. This is probably the reason why young professor Kusanali didn't believe any rumors about you. He was impressed.
"Am I supposed to be happy that youâre not giving me a moment of your time?â He said. "It's a bit difficult to achieve that state when you have yet to slip out of my mind. You did assault me yesterdayâ"
"Yes, yes, I'm well aware of that, Professor." You cringed. "Butâ"
"Albedo."
"Sorry?"
"You kissed me, (Y/n). I think you can call me Albedo."
"Right." You chuckled nervously. "Like I was saying, P-Professor, it's all a major misunderstanding. I wasn't aiming to assault you."
Albedo raised an eyebrow. He did not miss the way you suavely dodged calling him by name. Other than that, assault is a strong word, and he did not expect you to use it as well.Â
You thought it was a fitting word to use. Albedo barely makes eye contact, and he probably doesn't like being reminded that you stole a kiss from him.
"It's Albedo. So, you were planning to sexually assault another student?"
He is relentlessly quick on the uptake. Albedo sounded like a cop. What he said was correct, absurdly phrased, but correct nonetheless.
"I mean..." You rubbed your hands against your pants. They were a bit sweaty, and you had to accept the fact you were not faking it. You are genuinely anxious. "When you put it like that, it does sound inexcusable doesn't it?"
"It is a positively hair-raising notion, yes." Albedo deadpanned. "And if I had to take an educated guess, you were planning to assault my younger brother Dorian and you mistook me for him instead."
"..."
Figuring that out was a no-brainer. Although Professor Albedo is older than his brother, their appearance and physique make them appear twin-like. Dorian once droned about how it happened due to Albedo's poor upbringing under their aunt Alice's guidance, making his growth stunted. And his tendency to talk your ear out is one of many reasons why your intrusive thoughts often suggest that Dorian had no personality outside being the renowned professor Albedo's younger brother. Hence, you don't absorb a word of what he says. You didn't listen to gossip often cause you figured that you were not one for trivial gossip like the rest of the student botanists.Â
... And based on the dilemma you find yourself in now, it appears as though you don't have common sense like the rest of your peers eitherâ
"Please stop woolgathering. Is there a more interesting specimen to take note of on the floor? You seem to be more intrigued by what's on your shoes."
You cringed for what you felt like the 1000th milestone at that point.
"Professor, I know that I sound terribleâ"
Albedo sighed. "I would never insinuate that, Mx. (L/n)."Â
"But you keep cutting me off." You said in a questioning tone. It sounded a lot more polite in your head, yet the famous Kreideprinz was flustered by your reply.
He cleared his throat. "Sorry. I didn't mean to. Carry on. You are aware that you sound like a sex offender, and?"
That came out incredibly cold. It felt like being under the cold blade of a frigid prince, and his icy stare and light complexion just adds the cherry on top. The professor said that he wasn't insulting you but his paraphrasing is exactly that. You didn't comment on it, figuring your education is more important than a harsh remark, and continued.
"... The truth is," you took a deep breath. "I only kissed you cause, well, I mistook you for Dorian, and also because I was trying to get Sucroseâ."
"Sucrose?" Professor Albedo's eyebrows furrowed. "Sucrose, one of myâ"
"Your student assistants? Y-Yes, sir." You nodded hesitantly. "We're best friendsâ not that it's unsurprising since I am a bad influence and she's a good person. I recently went through a breakup and she's worried about me. Dorian agreed to fake date and make Sucrose believe that she accidentally found us making out in a room to make it more believable butâ"
"You mistook me for my brother."
"... Yeeaaahhh...."
"..."
This reminded you of your conversation with Dorian a while back. You asked if he and his brother would switch lives for a day, and he cackled and told you it happens more than the number you were thinking of. The moment you realized who you were kissing, you clung to the sliver of hope that it was Dorian wearing his brother's lab coat. It was not.
You looked down at your shoes again. It's too embarrassing and shameful that your entire lineage will probably be cursed.Â
"..."
Knowing that you won't talk until he does, Professor Albedo read through his notes for a topic.
"Understandable. I presume you know my brother because you're both on the same course and are on similar schedules?"
"Yes, sir." Should you tell him the whole fake-date thing was Dorian's idea as well?
"It's Albedo to you. And to add to that, Sucrose is under the impression that we're dating."
"I think so, sir."
"That's not a question, (Y/n), that's a fact." He said. "She recently confronted me to ask if we're dating."
You gulped. Moment of truth.
"What did you tell her, sir?"
"What do you want me to tell her?"
You could hear your pulse pounding in your ears.Â
On one hand, you want her to know what happened, but at the same time that would just blow you and Dorian's cover story.
But was that a smug tone you heard? Is he toying with you?
You bit your bottom lip.Â
"... Yes, I think? What did you say, professor?"
"Albedo."
You tilted your head. "What?"
"Respectfully, please call me by my name and I'll tell you the answer." He smirked curtly, but it was gone before you could process it.
"S-Sir!"
Albedo shrugged. "Guess you'll have to ask her directlyâ"
"Sir Albedoâ"
"Hmm, I don't recall having 'Sir' in my birth certificateâ"
"Albedo! Albedo!" Geez.
He gave a small smile, longer this time. But he was still avoiding eye contact. You puffed your cheeks, embarrassed.
Prof. Albedo has a slightly twisted sense of humor.
None of this was professional, at all.
You felt your face growing warmer. You can't believe this is the same Albedo everyone is crushing on.Â
You bit back a sharp retort. He sounded a lot more serious in campus gossip, and not the type to pull on your heartstrings like this. Your faith in that image is wearing thin.
The professor laughed. "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting such an enthusiastic reply. You don't have to be nervous around me, (Y/n). I figured that if we were going to do this, you could use my first name.
"I refrained from answering. But, if you wish, I can confirm her suspicions. However, I must inform you in advance that I find relationships rather... Tiresome." Albedo robotically sighed. "I struggle to maintain them, so you will have to guide me."
Never in your life have you ever considered the possibility that a professor in your grad school would ask you to fake a romantic relationship with him.Â
You digressed, not wanting to make a decision just yet. "But isn't your job in danger?"
Albedo then spoke in a genuine trill of amusement.Â
"Not at all. Besides, I don't care enough to file a complaint about this incident. Also, you're not my student. Suffice it to say, I've thoroughly checked the handbook and consulted the headmaster herself. Rhinedottir sees no problem with this arrangementâ"
Probably because she's your mother.
"âGranted, it will not be in full effect unless you give this a go signal. Will you?"
You looked away.
"This situation... Kinda reads like some cheap Harlequin novel, doesn't it?" You muttered.
It's a great offer. But it sounds too good to be true...
... Did he say that he wasn't going to file a complaint in the first place?
The professor watched as your impassive stare morphed into something uneven and sly but unavoidably empty. You clicked your tongue as your hands slip back to your pockets. Albedo could tell you're holding back an ugly laugh.
A switch had been flipped.
Professor Albedo immediately noticed the change in your demeanor and crossed his arms. He's anticipated this much. There's no way he didn't know about your "self-destructive patterns."
How interesting. For both you AND him.
"So, Albedo." You lazily pointed at him. "Something's fishy about this, don't you think?"
"You're too eager to help. I'd get it if you have something to gain from this, like scaring off your fangirls or something, but you fend them off just fine anyways." You grinned.
"I'm flattered that you think I send them away effortlessly." He answered point-blank.
Albedo turned to you, his face dim and heavily affected by his calm resignation.
"It's incredibly taxing work. I've told you before, haven't I? I may seem calm on the surface but people can be... A considerable handful."
His smile belied the severity of his inner turmoil.
But you can't help but doubt him. You don't buy his pitifulness.
You reassessed the situation in an instant. The Albedo you're talking to acts far from the untouchable Chalk Prince from the get-go. His words did not boast his usual research-riddled speech. This act is more than just premeditated.
Sure. You're the sort who is bound by what you "owe," but you can't say you can't empathize with his problems because he didn't seem-- he ISN'T troubled in the first place. And you're almost sure of it.
You believe you're not smart enough to remain in this university. But at least you have faith that you're perceptive and street-wise.Â
Still, you kept your hollow cheeky grin plastered to your face.
"Then why aren't you taking a less problematic approach? You could say you're dating Professor Alberichâ you'd get some people off your back."
Translation: Can't you just bother someone else?
"By attracting other unpleasant folks pestering me about Kaeya instead, yes, seems like a sound suggestion. I'll keep it in mind for future reference."
Translator's note: He's being sarcastic. Stop trying to worm your way out of this one.
Albedo continued. "But right now that's not viable. If you feel guilty for stealing a kiss from me this may be a good opportunity to ease your conscience."
...
"That's it? But you won't report me if I didn't agree to these terms, right?"
"Of course. I have your best interests in mind and simply warned you." He gave you a faint smile, hoping to ease your nerves. "You're part of Rukkha's batch of dean's listers. I don't have the heart to file a complaint."
Rukkha was a great woman, but you don't deserve your scholarships and sponsors. You don't have any talent or skill to truly impress people, and it seems you fooled both Professor Rukkhadevata and Albedo into thinking you're something special as well.
"Professor...."
But with what he basically said just now is that there are no consequences for your actions.
"It's Albedo, and yes?"
"You seem to have reserved some very unrealistic expectations for me. You should be more distrusting."
"... What do you mean?"
"I don't see any reason to accept your offer." You honestly had no idea where this confidence is coming from. Perhaps your class clown persona had slowly rubbed off on the "real" you, and for once you didn't hate yourself for it.
Because you don't want to be in this relationship. It's legal, yes, and you're old enough, but you're incredibly wary. Albedo may be leagues better than Itto but that's beside the point: you're emotionally spent and you're not ready to get to know another person.
"Oh, understood. For starters, agreeing to these terms will make Sucrose less abrasive with her attempts to set you up, and I could help you with connections."
"That sounds as though I'll be abusing your influence..."
You paused.Â
Did you tell the professor about Sucrose's disturbing attempts to hook you up with people earlier...?
You don't recall ever sharing that bit of information. You made sure to pick your words carefully so Sucrose wouldn't be seen in a bad light. Since when did he...
"What? No, it's not. It's simply a small trade for your cooperation."
"No."
"Andâ sorry?"
You can see the appeal. You truly do. When you are chosen by someone of greater influence and intellect, it seems almost magical. He could undoubtedly help your botany profession thrive. Most people would conclude that if Professor Albedo chose them from the crowd, they must be extremely unique in comparison to their peers.Â
However, this is somewhat unethical. This is the kind of scenario you'd find in a shoddy coming-of-age novel that desperately tries to convince you that there are no other elements to consider but love. However, you must also consider your mental health, reputation, education, and other factors that influence every fiber of your being.
Albedo isn't the type of person who would jeopardize your future over a minor disagreement, but you never know with people. People change as much as seasons do. You are a living example of this. Itto would not have used that argument against you if it were untrue.
You have nothing against those who engage in lawful student-teacher relationships, but you're self-aware enough to recognize that you're not mentally fit to enter one. And sometimes the conclusion is as straightforward as that. Besides, you're sick of having others (including yourself)Â continually doubting your intelligence. Fake-dating a professor will only exacerbate the situation. Rumors will spread that you only earned your grades because of him and not out of your efforts. Dorian already had it rough, and you've learned what it's like through him. Simple self-preservation.
"Thanks for the offer, really, but no. If I'll date someone, even if it's fake, I want to set it under my terms as well."Â
You scratched your neck, eyes lifeless.
"I'm sorry, Professor. But I genuinely can't see why this agreement will help both of us, I especially can't see why this will benefit you compared to your other options. I could just come out and say I mistook you for Dorian and it's an easy fix to my problems and in turn, you wouldn't have to deal with the stigma of dating a student. I'm sorry, Prof. I'll take a rain check on it."Â
You shrugged uncomfortably. "Besides, this is still a student-teacher relationship. I'm uncomfortable being in an uneven power dynamic like that. I'd rather date Dorian instead."
...
Shit.Â
Okay, maybe accidentally implying that you're open to dating his kid brother had to be the second most uncomfortable thing you subjected Albedo to.
You didn't mean to come off as THAT honest.
A test tube must've cracked somewhere around the area cause you could've sworn you heard something shatter. You flinched, but he didn't.
"... Is that so." The professor muttered. You almost didn't hear him from how silent his defeat was.
You sighed in relief so intense that you physically felt your shoulder muscles relax and your eyes roll back. Seems like he gave up.
"I promise that I'll pay you back in other ways, professor. I owe you and I'm sorry. But I must refuse for both our sakes." You said. "I have taken something important from you, and I will respectfully understand if you file a complaint for what I've done. No one should have a kiss stolen like that."
He didn't reply. Albedo stood there, eyes unblinking as he mulled over your words. At the beginning of this conversation, he barely looked you directly in the eye, but now he refused to look away.Â
You waited for him to say something else and stood there for a solid minute. Nothing came.Â
"Please, excuse me."
You wanted to say that you left to give him more time to consider but the truth is that you couldn't bare standing there for a second more so you left in a frantic hurry.Â
It was only when you left did you realize what made you wary of him the entire conversation.
Professor Albedo wasn't breathing the entire time.
-------
Upon unlocking his door, Albedo was greeted by a boy with a face akin to his. He was waiting for him, and in turn, Albedo anticipated that he would be here, too. The boy sat idly and almost casually inside a room littered with wall to wall of red-stringed photographs and texts, and there was not a single hint of disgust or any other natural reaction on his face. Albedo's nose scrunched.
Dorian did not budge from his brotherâ master's office chair. He stared back with a blank expression. Most papers were by his feet, crumpled, but not discarded. How could they be, when all pictures centered around one very precious subject:
You.
You, in all forms, poses, and angles make you ineffably you. These are the candid shots that bring out the little moments that Albedo longed to study under a microscope. They didn't need to be dynamic, rather, Albedo adored the simplest pictures the most. Needless to say, images of you resting is the most popular. It's a lot more convenient and easy to take, but that doesn't cheapen the value and elation the professor feels upon holding the finished polaroid up close.
Every time he swapped schedules with Dorian, he couldn't help but be curious about you.
It doesn't stop there. Albedo clicked his tongue as he noticed the journal Dorian held. It was his dog-eared notes he cleanly put together when jotting down your schedule, private life, and other more delicate intricacies. The clipboard he had earlier is nothing more than a silly prop compared to his actual notes. There's something so breathtaking about making the "unknown" into the "known", and the same applies to every bit of your life that he was curious about. Albedo's aware that it's not something he should brag about. Retrieving paraphernalia such as worn-out gardening gloves and locks of hair from your shower drain was not something he acquired robotically. However, he didn't fancy the idea that Dorian read it and found it just as entertaining as he did. He didn't like the idea of sharing.
Maybe you were right.
Maybe he did reserve some very unrealistic and idolized expectations for you. But that was only because he can see your potential. He firmly believes that. It's an awful and objectifying train of thought, but the professor is convinced he'll be the one who can "fix" your people-pleasing issue.
He figured, if he wants to make sure you'd always be with him, he had to conduct some trial-and-error.
Albedo breathed harshly. He forgot how to do so. He never needed to breath.
"Did it work?" Dorian asked. "Did your plan work?"
His eyes went dim.
Albedo didn't answer.
He locked the door again. This time, he allowed Dorian to keep the lights on. If anything, it's a small reward for indirectly helping him. But not even his fellow creation can have what the genius professor of the century desires to attain. He has to face the truth.
Albedo pulled out a recording device from his pocket. You said no. There's nothing he could do about that.Â
"No."
"No. No. No. No. No--"
He played your refusal over and over again.
He thought he did everything right. He genuinely believed he followed the right procedure in getting you to say yes. What went wrong, then? Albedo doesn't get it. He was sure that he didn't say anything wrong or suspicious as well. You shouldn't have known that he had been following you from that conversation alone.Â
"No."
He practiced everything for hours.
"No."
Word for word.
"No."
He researched tips and tricks on how to let other people's guard down.
"No."
He thought not pressuring you to do it will make you more willing.
"No."
He even asked Alberich how to subtly flirt with someone.
"No."
So. What went wrong?
"No--"
Albedo slowly blinked before realizing he had thrown the device against the wall in full force. The batteries and their other internal components spilled on the floor. He didn't have the willpower to clean it up.Â
It's an undeniable error. He still can't believe his approach failed.
Master was right.
"Dearest Albedo, if you can't have them in their most authentic self, then what's stopping you from making an indistinguishable copy?"
did someone with a degradation kink get turned on when they join for military training
IM SORRY XIAO BRAINROT
Did you mention XIAO.
I just had to come in here like a crazy hawk because XIAO. Anyways,, Xiao being affectionate.. there's this other post of yours answering to an anon's screenshot of devs stuff? I think it's with Xiao being a gentle soul???
So yes, I'm going through that rn!!!! Like,, he's definitely having a hard time really adjusting to being that way again, if he ever finds comfort in you. He's like a hesitant moth with a flame, doesn't know what he's supposed to do -- run away from the one thing that can hurt him (like he used to), or embrace it quickly.
Brainrot might not make much sense,, but Xiao that finally uses his room in Wangshu Inn because you always came to visit, came to help him bandage his wounds, came to have dinner with him and he looks forward to it. He's not going to admit it, but he tries his best to let you know that he appreciates it. A lot. He's not a tsundere who denies everything, he's more of.. cautious. He's afraid, but he wants to try. It's different with things like that glowing orb because they're not people, he doesn't have to speak to let them know what he thinks about. He just,, basks in their presence. Only problem is animals / creatures feel his karmic debt, and people don't, and he has a hard time trying to really adapt to such. Don't think being an adeptus helps since the other adepti prefers their solace? What are your thoughts, Shiloh?
XIAO BRAINROT đĽłđĽłđĽł
there was that one line from the developer's notes... i know i mentioned it before and i can't remember it verbatim but it likened xiao to a beast circling something out of curiosity.
personally i think xiao is cautious because he's curious. does that make sense?
xiao may be a centuries-old adeptus, but if the way he reaches towards that little light is any indication, he's not immune to the act of pursuing something out of sheer curiosity. sure, he may know the consequences of indulging himself like that, but he's still capable of doing it, and i think that's what makes him so alert when it comes to you
other mortals don't approach him -- most don't even really know he exists. but not only are you aware of his existence, but you're approaching him â inviting him; you're asking him to give in to temptation and (possibly) endanger others for his own greed.
(that's not literally what you're asking and he knows that, but he's too aware of what happens every time he lets his guard down.)
and he can't even be mad at you because he likes it. loves it, even. unlike that orb, you're not shying away from him or fleeing from him or dying when he's around you for too long.
instead, you're nimbly working your fingers across his skin, wrapping bandages around gaping wounds that he already told you would heal on their own in a few hours; you're crying for him when he recounts a memory to you at your request; you're kissing his hands when he finally musters up the courage to show you; you're combing your fingers through his hair when he lays on top of you, your heartbeat lulling him into a much needed sleep.
you're everything xiao needed and more. he can never shake the fear that someday, his karma will catch up with him and that something will go horribly wrong, but until that day comes, he will be as greedy as you taught him to be -- as you allowed him to be -- and he will stay here, pressing barely there kisses against your cheeks as you sleep next to him while he keeps watch over you
á´ęą á´Ęá´ Ęá´á´Ęęą á´á´ęąęą, á´Ę ęąá´Ęá´ęąęą á´á´ á´ ęą
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