Haechan: *dramatic Gasp* Mark Can Use TECHNOLOGY???!?

i like him, not you!

synopsis: in which you’ve finally mustered up the courage to express a bashful confession to your best friend and six-year crush…only to accidentally dispatch your heartfelt message to the wrong person.

character/s: albedo, ayato, childe, kazuha, xiao, scaramouche, thoma

a/n: @sohyuki ilysm have a wonderful day queen <3

the first thing you do is run away.

in a way, you have always been good at that. scampering from those undivulged words and imminent encounters that instilled fear in you. it spoke to you almost like a natural instinct, left you with a bitter taste on your tongue, tormented you with a sick sensation twisting your stomach.

because of this, you ran from a lot of things. from your parents whenever they frowned upon a low grade on your report card, from a pompous asshole you later mustered the tiniest courage to shove down during fourth grade, from the unwitting attention of sunbeam-amber eyes meeting yours, and from your best friend whom you’ve practically loved for the longest time.

and you decide the last one is something you’ll finally want to quit running away from.

eight little letters and three simple words, yet for six long years they have meant more than the world to you. he has always meant more than the world to you.

so you attempt to construct it all within proper sentences — desperately trying not to jumble up your phrases while trying to provide the impression that you sure as hell hadn’t been shaking tremendously as you wrote it.

but it’s so difficult to even spare a meek glance at it. so annoying that it pesters thrumming vibrations in the depths of your stupid heart. so fucking frustrating that you don’t actually bother looking at it anymore when your fingers hover over the word ‘send’.

you’ve shut your phone off after that singular moment, and stashed it away in a nearby drawer for safekeeping. and for the entire weekend, you convince yourself that you didn’t really care anymore. six years didn’t matter because you weren’t expecting an answer. just an outlet for these emotions and a burden lifted off your weighted shoulders.

and for the first time in a long while, you acknowledge how liberating it feels to not want to run.

Y/N’S CONTACTS.

him <3 (kaedehara kazuha)

✉ 4:47 am, april 4th (mon).

[ 1 new message! ] : psst. arcade after class today? :)

ah, but who would be an idiot not to fall for him?

you’ve guessed he’s received so many incessant compliments and heartfelt confessions, that despite how frustratingly courteous he was — could never actually bother wasting his time sorting through each and every one of them.

so you figure that you’re in the clear, and he won’t have to burden himself with formulating a sharp answer.

or at least, that’s what you reassure yourself when monday comes around and he greets you with an ever-familiar and warm smile.

and is also perhaps why he pretends like nothing has actually happened…

because if that happened to be the case, he was rather good at acting pretty normal. you knew that if you’d ever received such a confession from somebody, you would have been freaking out a lot more — and depending on whether you reciprocated their emotions, either avoiding or confronting them.

but this…was a little too cold of a reaction.

and yet, at the same time, you were thankful he still kept approaching and talking to you as usual. above all, kazuha was your best friend before he was the person you wanted to be romantically involved with. you could never really bear the thought of losing him as a close confidante.

but it hurt like hell because he was always too kind, always too impossible not to love. always with the 1 am calls and his soft voice when you couldn’t fall asleep. always with the weekend home visits to his place so you could share a meal together. always with the sleepovers or out catching a midnight film. always a shoulder to lean on when the tears were too much. always, always there.

you know he’ll never love you the way you knew just exactly how to love him. and that’s okay.

but if looks and words could have honestly fooled, it almost seemed like he was ridiculously unaware that you had even confessed to him in the first place.

everything stayed the same.

and you can’t help but feel sick at the reality, because a part of you wanted to believe that kazuha was in love with you, at least once in his life and perhaps never again. in sleepless turned drowsy midnight calls, in fleeting glances inside the deserted cinema, in homemade meals and warm smiles, in drowning tears and comforting hugs. in the briefest of seconds when he realized you were always there.

but the thing about love is that it’s blinded you enough to not think about the probability that he might just like you. that he may or may not have been avoiding all other confessions because he only hoped for yours. that he may be hesitating every time you two get closer because he thinks you won’t want him back. that at 1 am while you’re whispering softly through the phone about your day, kazuha’s thinking about all the pragmatic reasons not to blurt out mid-conversation that he’s always been madly in love with you.

you know one thing for sure when you dazedly stare at your phone later that day. love has blinded you enough to not think twice about why kazuha might not be acting any differently than you had initially expected. why he’s so infuriatingly unfazed. why he should have been having a more violent reaction instead of making the same silly jokes with you.

and boy, you’re bewildered when you find two chat notifications waiting in your message box. one from kazuha, inviting you to the nearby arcade after class…except for some absurd reason, there’s no record of an embarrassingly heartfelt confession registered in your shared chat history.

the second from a boy you barely knew but always subconsciously noticed in class, sitting rather ominously in your DMs with the strangest of messages. and it’s only when you begrudgingly open your shared chat, that you clearly feel how your heart stops in one horrifying instant.

because sitting there in the most unexpected of places, lies the culmination of six long years building up to a terribly emotional confession.

but…it’s not for the boy you had hoped would receive it.

that guy in class (xiao)

✉ 11:54 pm, april 2nd (sat).

[ 1 new message! ] : who are you?

xiao wishes there was a guidebook for how to handle all probable awkward situations, in the unfortunate circumstance that he’d ever find himself impossibly lodged in the middle of one.

but there’s none that exist to date. and he thinks not even the internet can help him figure out what to respond to a sudden and random heartfelt confession sitting peacefully in his message inbox.

he hasn’t exactly done anything to be loved or wanted by anyone. and at first, your contact name barely registers anyone he recognizes in his head. so he sends the first question he thinks of as a response, and shuts his phone to close his eyes and rest.

but then sunday morning comes and it clicks. he remembers. he knows who you are. because of that, xiao finds it all absurd.

it wasn’t like he intended to stare at you. he was always prone to dozing off mid-classes, eyes instinctively sweeping across every inch of the classroom, outside the window to greet the blinding light of the morning sun, and then reluctantly retreating back inside…

only to see you. and for you to see him.

so the odd pattern repeats. everyday.

you’d think he have broken out of such a quirky habit of looking. he’d think you’d have stopped meeting his eyes every single time. but you always manage to see each other — and past that, neither of you dare make the effort to talk to one another.

it was some sort of unspoken understanding between you two, momentary peace that isn’t built on a real connection. just that he finds comfort in your eyes, while you’re left breathless at his.

but for you to confess, and oh so suddenly without any particular reason to make you like him.

so he realizes the message presently occupying his DMs (and unconsciously plaguing his thoughts) isn’t truly meant for him.

monday eagerly arrives, and he stares. more often than usual, more often than he’d want to. he wonders if you’ve noticed how you fucked up, because he’s almost certain he knows who your vulnerable confession is intended for.

and it’s late in the afternoon when you shyly pull him aside to talk about it. how embarrassed you were by your clumsy mistake, how deeply you felt apologetic for sending it to him, but most importantly of all —

“i’m really sorry, but i like someone else and not you!”

strange how your first conversation turns out like this. he’s always imagined it would begin very differently. perhaps with you pointing out the fact that he always gazes at you, him asking you in return why you always look back.

and almost on impeccable cue, you suddenly smile and tell him about all the times you recognized him because of how often your eyes met, even though you’ve never talked to each other. you’re sorry for not talking with him sooner.

but xiao thinks nothing is going to change just because you’ve verbally acknowledged each other.

he was sort of wrong. the next time you met glances, you smiled. several more times after you’ve started doing it, he starts to reciprocate with the smallest of smiles too — the kind that makes you feel like its your shared little secret.

and you’ve both changed in certain ways. you talked with each other more often, occupying vacated classrooms during breaks and making a bit more room for each other within your drastically different lives. he even starts to join you during lunch whenever kazuha was too occupied with homework, and lets you drag him along to amusement parks or anime events you presumed kazuha wasn’t too interested in.

but the craziest part about it all was that you admitted to never actually confessing to kazuha after all that’s happened.

perhaps you were left traumatized by your previous opportunity to confess to your best friend. perhaps because of a certain “someone’s” consistent jokes, you were too horrified to ever want to confess to somebody ever again. perhaps you were simply confused about the new boy weaving his way into your life.

one thing’s for sure, xiao feels strangely relieved that you decided not to send the actual message to your crush.

and maybe even a little dirty part of him hopes you’ll eventually forget about confessing to kazuha at the end of it all.

saturday boyfriend (childe)

✉ 9:06 am, april 5th (tues).

[ 1 new message! ] : so you’re the girl who likes xiao?

the thing is, childe could have never actually perceived the day when he’d get a phone call late in the evening from xiao, inquiring about what to say in response to an abrupt confession from a stranger.

his brusque and characteristically quiet best friend — had suddenly gotten some crazy chick to fall for him? with that shitty personality?

oh, the unexpected news gave childe the laughter of a lifetime. and yet, he couldn’t help but feel curious about the idea of it. what kind of interesting person would ever be attracted to someone like that guy? (respectfully, of course.)

fortunately to satiate the whirlwind of questions that night, xiao later sends him a text of your name with a message not to bother you.

and childe’s eyes go wide when he eventually puts a face to the name. you, the weird chick always absently staring over at xiao in classes?

perhaps he should’ve seen it coming. he did think it was weird how he sometimes found you glancing quietly towards his friend. but he sort of assumed you’d have liked kazuha instead — you know, your actual best friend — over some guy you’ve never even talked to in your life.

so with the right determination, he makes it his personal mission the following monday to devote his own precious time for a stakeout. because who’s to say you weren’t secretly some disgusting pervert targeting your uninhibited emotions to an innocent classmate?

childe observes you from afar the whole day. from the moment you found your seat in class that morning, watching you lock eyes with xiao mid-science discussion, routinely tagging along with kazuha for lunch, and even as you’re concentrating on a note-taking phase during the afternoon break.

you haven’t made any explicit moves towards xiao…yet. it’s a rather normal and innocuous day for you.

until afternoon comes — and near the school gates, he watches as you awkwardly tug xiao aside to talk to him briefly. childe pauses in his steps, staring at your huddled silhouettes while attempting to decipher the distinct mood of the conversation. he sees you smile at one point, and how you courteously greet each other goodbye when it’s over.

did xiao accept your feelings then?

that night, he gets your number from a mutual friend, and sends you a harmless text message the next morning. if xiao reciprocated your interest in him that day, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to eventually get to know each other during the long run.

but when he arrives in school, he’s greeted by the sight of you staring at him in surprise and asking if you could spare him a minute of his time to talk. and it’s right then that you explain and attempt to clear up the misunderstanding that transpired between you and his best friend.

it still makes childe laugh at the absurdity of it whenever he thinks about the mistaken confession, and how throughly embarrassed you must have been for unhesitatingly sending it to a complete stranger.

from that fateful day on, you two started to become close friends. and to mark that unforgettably momentous occasion for you — childe would routinely find a way to weave his presence into your saturdays, bringing flowers, chocolates, typical department-store love letters, or text you a long ass cheap excuse of a profession — to remind you of your “beautifully executed confession”. even though really, it’s just a dumb excuse to poke infuriating jokes at you.

those continuous, and admittedly humorous endeavors of his, became some part of the reason why you could never bring yourself to confess to kazuha again…or anyone else for that matter.

and you know, maybe celibacy was the way your life was always destined to be. maybe you weren’t supposed to give out your heart to other guys, because you were solely meant to receive any form of romantic gesture every saturday from a certain ginger-haired bastard. and well, maybe it wasn’t the worst thing to have in the world.

or maybe he’s accidentally caught feelings when he suddenly put more thought than he should have, into picking out a gift on a random saturday.

maybe one average saturday, he’ll unconsciously fall for your smile and the sarcastic words of gratitude you’ll throw back at him.

and maybe, just maybe…on some imminent saturday, he won’t know what more to give other than his real and heartfelt confession to you.

homework hotline (albedo)

✉ 6:15 am, april 7th (thurs).

[ 1 new message! ] : hey, coming over to yours later for that project due next week.

you’ve had close friends come over to your apartment often, but none have ever made you feel as utterly relieved compared to when albedo visits.

it’s always been challenging for you to keep track of homework loads, or stay motivated while reviewing for an upcoming test due the end of the week. and albedo’s presence magically helps you to be productive with exactly all of that.

perhaps you feel more motivated, or somewhat pressured to accomplish tasks in the company of a person who’s actually mastered diligence. whatever it is, for the past few years it’s given you higher grades than you’ve ever expected to receive pitted against your previous academic years.

and ever since then, you’ve made it a point to always partner up together during projects, which he easily obliges to. plus, you’ve succeeded as a team in plenty of tasks for so long, that albedo naturally feels more inclined to work with you.

he also can’t deny that the company is indeed familiar and comfortable, therefore making it the most preferable alternative.

besides, he’s made himself at home in your apartment for a handful of years now, that it’s almost as if he practically lives together with you. an extra toothbrush left in your bathroom cupboard, a similar set of pillows and blankets stashed inside your closet, albedo’s hoodies and clothes folded in a neat pile within a separate drawer — his presence in your home was always just there.

which is why later that evening, as you and albedo are busy preparing dinner before you cram an overnight agenda of finishing several projects in advance, he casually suggests the idea of moving in together instead.

and it’s frankly not that terrible of an idea. the rent would be split between you both so you’d save much more, there would be no more trouble commuting to each other’s places to finish school-related tasks, house chores would be divided amongst the two of you, and albedo could occupy the apartment while you were out on weekly visits or sleepovers in kazuha’s.

so the deed is done. by the following week, you’ve already prepared other necessary accommodations, and albedo comes over with a small duffel bag (since most of his stuff was already left at your place) and a brand new key for your shared abode.

neither of you can really feel like something has changed. if anything, it seems more natural to have him permanently living with you because it makes things more convenient.

and ever since then, you’ve been constantly seen together a lot more frequently inside the university premises (causing some familiar faces grow envious at the sight of it), but the both of you preferred to keep your current home status as a personal secret so as not to fuel too many strange rumors.

you do homework with each other a lot more often. you’re also left in awe by the occasional detailed doodles scrawled across the corner pages of his lecture notebook. one late evening, you were wondering if it was the sleep taking over you, or he actually drew a little portrait of you on one of the tightly folded pages.

everyday, you’d take turns doing certain things during your well-deserved breaks. albedo, on one hand, teaches you how to draw and paint. you’re not exactly the best at artistic endeavors, but he was always patient and supportive, going as far as to provide specific remarks on the things you needed improvement with.

on other days, you’d convince him to sit down with you to binge food while watching your favorite films. he’d initially oblige to appease your kindness and hadn’t realized it at first — but at some later point, he ended up loving all the same movies as you did.

it’s slow but anticipated, the way he falls in love with you. perhaps a part of him has always seen this ending coming — recognized the dangerous path he was treading, and yet took it without any complaint.

even though he saw through your heart and how you wanted someone else. even as he witnessed the romantic gifts you carried back home with a giddy smile. even while he listens to you upsettingly vent about the most impertinent guy who keeps making his way back into your life.

because maybe deep down, he’s always hoped to love someone like this. the sound of your laughter filling his ears while making dinner. films on television illuminating your face in the darkness. yawns you stifle when it’s midnight and you’re almost finished with homework. fluttering eyes in the morning. enchanting smiles quirking across your lips. napping soundly on the study desk even though you kindly insisted on waiting up for him before you both slept. how it feels to talk about everything and nothing at the same time.

it’s natural and innate. foreign yet so familiar. a breath of fresh air. and yet, the feeling of home lingers across his fingertips.

a written, unchangeable, and hopeless destiny for albedo to always fall without constraint. and the saddest truth is — he wouldn’t have wanted this love for any other way.

BLOCKED — 4th grader asshole (scaramouche)

✉ 2:35 pm, april 9th (sat).

[ 1 new message! ] : you’re paying for the next meal dumbass.

scaramouche to you was a lot of things. perhaps the first and most notable one of them all was that he was an impressively pompous asshole.

and you suppose he’s always been like that. the same bitchy bully you’ve regretfully crossed paths with during the fourth grade.

the strangest part is, you’ve never actually done anything to piss the boy off. or at least, none you could still vividly remember. but you were certain that you weren’t too shitty as a kid, and your first interaction with scaramouche wasn’t even close to offensive.

it happened on the elementary playground, when you first caught sight of the little boy eagerly chasing after his friends, before suddenly tripping over a rock and diving straight into the ground. you remember the degrading echoes of his friends’ laughter, how you worriedly walked over to him and asked if he was okay. how you stretched your hand out to the kid on the ground, and how he stared at you with an unreadable gaze. and before you even knew it, past that singular moment, every single day of 4th grade became absolute war.

could anyone blame you for simply being courteous? he had terribly shitty friends and you only wanted to help…which yes, unexpectedly backfired with irreparable consequences. how were you to know in that second that something horrible would happen?

maybe you should never have approached scaramouche that day. or maybe you also would’ve regretted never helping him out.

either way, the thought has always plagued the back of your mind, and you wonder if your life would have changed so drastically had you made a different choice in that playground.

even until today, he still somehow manages to wander into your life oh so effortlessly. in the hallways, ramming into your shoulder without sparing a mere glance or an apology. in the middle of class, absently toying with your free locks of hair while you grumble several coherent insults towards the boy. during gratitude day, him stealing your white blouse scribbled in your friends’ messages and writing some of his own unwanted words on it. in the art room, cornering you with that devilish smirk and a finger against his lips as he warns you not to make a single sound, while the hall monitor angrily screeches his name around the deserted corridors…most likely intending to throw him in detention.

even at the comfort of your own home — he’s the neighbor who (unfortunately) moved around the same time as you did, except he lives in the spacious flat two floors below.

and it infuriates you to the ends of the earth. how he’s always been there. how he somehow still is.

when you aced a major test, he was there with an irritated scoff, reminding you not to get too full of yourself. when he saw how you started to fall for kazuha in the early years, he was there to poke fun of you for wanting a “nice” guy, because nice was just an equivalent for boring. when he saw you standing outside your house beneath the rain — soaked, shivering, and frustrated after a big argument with your parents — he shoved an umbrella in your face and told you how you looked absolutely horrendous.

he’s seen too much of you, both in your happiest and at your worst. not even others like kazuha or close family friends have witnessed or known such dark parts of you. why did it have to be him? this boy who has been constantly tormenting you for several years of your life?

even as you surround yourself with better people, you still think about the insolent asshole roaming around the hallways. still overly conscious about his presence whenever you’re in the same room (more than you would have wanted). still thinking about his umbrella in the rain.

and perhaps that was the most perplexing thing which unknowingly drew you to scaramouche. that you never really knew which side of him you were going to get everyday.

one moment he’s explicitly arguing with you in the middle of plain daylight (which unfortunately, later lands you both in detention) — then all of a sudden, you’re riding a bus at midnight to your apartment alone, and he’s the person coincidentally seated next to you, flinching at your snot as he hurriedly juts a handkerchief towards your teary face.

he’s always headed towards the apartment at the same time you exit the bus coming from the university. and although you two constantly bicker and fight along the way back to the building, he was there to accompany you on the lonely walk home.

he pokes fun about your painfully obvious crush on your best friend, but tones it down on the sunday he sees you with puffy red eyes after confessing and attempting to convince yourself you didn’t care if he didn’t want you back.

even more so when you’re unwillingly forced to share a table with him inside a popular and crowded restaurant during lunch — him insulting you for the way you scarf down your food like a pig, and yet his hand subconsciously reaches out to wipe the sauce smudge on the corner of your lips before casually licking it off his thumb.

you’re staring at him in confusion, grateful yet weirded out at the…generous gesture. but all he does is scoff disapprovingly at your face, because there’s no masking the strange red flush that creeps up your cheeks from the uncharacteristic tension and his sudden physical contact.

and for the first time in the years you’ve known him, you’ve only made yourself presently aware of the reddish tint that sets the tips of his ears aglow.

what you’ll never actually realize is how much effort he’s been constantly making to conceal that singularly instinctive (and frankly, repulsive) action that reminds him of how vulnerable you’ve always made him feel — ever since you gave him your hand back in fourth grade.

it would’ve helped him a lot more if he had never noticed you prior to that. how nice you were to the other kids and teachers. how adorable you looked in those neat pigtails. how you had unknowingly charmed every single person into the palm of your hand, and how you were still so infuriatingly enchanting and oblivious at the effect you had on others…even until today.

he hated feeling vulnerable more than anything else in the world, knowing that he was also one of those idiots helplessly wrapped around your finger. just that unlike the rest of them, he’d never actually stoop down so low with his pride to say it out loud.

and he hated that everyday, you were always making it all the more easier for him to admit it to himself. to scream out to the world that scaramouche hated how much he has somehow, foolishly, and quite impossibly, always been in love with you.

organization hottie (ayato)

✉ 5:23 pm, april 9th (sat).

[ 1 new message! ] : see you on monday.

you tried not to squeal too loudly when you suddenly received the text message. but albedo could see the way you tightly pressed your lips together to stifle back a wide whooping grin.

and why wouldn’t you be thrilled? you had just gotten accepted into your university’s official charity organization! it was certainly the perfect opportunity to expose yourself to more learning experiences and activities past the fields of academics.

obviously, it wasn’t like a super attractive person was currently heading the committee and had just sent you a text saying you got accepted a couple minutes ago…

or…okay.

so maybe there’s a bit of an influence. i mean, was it that bad to find a guy who devotes his time for others insanely charming?

of course, it wasn’t anything serious like the way you felt for kazuha. it was more of a happy crush, if you would call it — someone you have a slight romantic admiration for, but don’t exactly harbor any deep feelings towards them.

admittedly, you had naturally considered the prospect of finding yourself with nothing to do over the course of summer, and you figured applying in the organization wouldn’t do much harm for you anyway…even though you had some reservations about the final decision to sign up for it.

and then, you heard about how ayato was recently elected to oversee the committee activities for the following year. thus, the rest was simply history.

the next week, you’re swamped with exchanging introductions among several new members and almost immediately busying yourself with the upcoming project meeting.

oddly enough, you’ve been assigned in the same team as ayato for your first project. and although you began on a rather rough and awkward start together, he guides you through the transitioning process until you’ve learned at least enough things to handle some separate tasks independently.

you’ve always assumed ayato was an overly formal and aloof person to approach compared to the others — however on the contrary, you were pleasantly surprised to discover that he also beheld a mischievous side conflicting his own outer demeanor.

there were days when even he would occasionally reach out to talk about things past organization-related matters. simple questions such as asking about some input on a certain movie, if you had completed this previously given assignment, or merely checking how your day was going.

and maybe it was just strange for you to suddenly realize how human ayato feels.

sure, he was often distant and burdened under plenty of responsibilities. you’ve heard your fair share of rumors and how he was always seemingly placed on a pedestal above all — perhaps you’d almost forgotten that at the end of the day, he was still just trying to get his own shit together, like everybody else.

he was precisely nothing short of a normal guy. the kind who pokes good fun around and plays chess on breaks. the kind who still asks if you want to accompany him to springtime festivals. the kind who smiles at you when he sees you standing across the hallway. the kind who elbows you subtly when you’ve dozed out in the middle of somebody’s monologue. the kind who feels like you‘re somehow beginning to know him better than you know yourself.

and ayato thinks you’re the kind he wondered what would happen had he met you all those years ago instead. if he had an opportunity to know you better before, than he did today. if he would have liked you any sooner, or always just a little later.

maybe it’s true that ayato could work hard to be a lot of things. after all, he couldn’t have become half the man he was today if he hadn’t convinced himself to put in more effort than anybody else.

but maybe there were also some things ayato could just never bring himself to have, no matter how hard he tried. maybe there were always meant to be some moments and people he wasn’t possibly cut out for.

and maybe he could try all he wanted, but he could never really work hard enough to ever make you notice his own lonesome heart — always patiently waiting.

BONUS CONTACT ! — a short side story.

radio boy (thoma)

✉ 3:07 pm, april 5th (tues).

[ 1 new message! ] : hey y/n! do you mind stopping by the broadcasting room for a bit?

although thoma has always been well-favored among people of all ages, he feels that there’s nobody else he’d rather spend his company with than you.

it’s not that he’s wanted you for ill intentions or in a romantic perspective. just that you were his favorite person who was so invariably easy to talk to.

you first met thoma inside the broadcasting room, randomly paying a visit out of curiosity to ask the title of a particular song played during the morning break. and then the following day, you came back to ask on behalf of your friend about another song.

before either of you knew it, you were making regular yet brief appearances to the little recording area — not just to ask about songs, but also to initiate small talk about how the other’s day was going. it was later on you discovered that thoma was a student from another class in the same university who volunteered to work for the campus radio station.

on most days, you’d bring him pastries or coffee to satiate his empty stomach, since thoma preferred to spend most of his free time in the broadcasting room. sometimes, he’d also be generous enough to let you borrow some of his cd’s or flash-drives of music playlists that he thinks would suit your taste.

during periods when you were too busy to pay a visit, you’d send him a quick text apologizing in advance. but not even five minutes later, a familiar song would suddenly blast through the classroom speakers in response, and you couldn’t do anything to hide the contented smile from quirking across your face.

when thoma begins to fall in love with you, he finds himself secretly dedicating certain songs to you on the campus radio — either playing tracks he knows you love, or music that he thinks reminds him of you.

of course, you’re not really sure when the boy behind the radio started liking somebody. just that all of a sudden on an average weekday, you belatedly noticed how his choice of tunes changed, and never became the same as before.

and every time you’ll teasingly question thoma about his arbitrary selection of songs in hopes of prying him for a name drop, all he does is shrug with a quiet smile — saying that you, out of all people, should know her all too well.

「   RP MEME :  TO AND FROM INJURED AND DYING MUSES .   」 * change pronouns as needed. [ my / your ] is dependent on the receiver.

TO AN INJURED MUSE : 

‘ shit! ’ 

‘ here, i need to put pressure on the wound. ’

‘ hang on. we’re going to be okay. ’

‘ we’ve got to keep moving! ’ 

‘ someone help me over here! ’

‘ it’s okay–– i’m going to call an ambulance. ’

‘ i’m going to get you out of here! ’

‘ oh god. there’s so much blood. ’

‘ stay still. just stay still. ’

‘ don’t try to get up. ’

TO A DYING MUSE : 

‘ don’t you leave me! ’

‘ stay with me, __. ’ 

‘ breathe! come on! ’

‘ how long do you have? ’

‘ NO! ’

‘ i’m losing you.’ 

‘ i’m not ready for you to go yet. ’

‘ it’s not your time! ’

‘ there’s still so many things i want to do with you.’ 

‘ i’m not leaving you, i promise. ’

FROM AN INJURED MUSE : 

‘ it’s nothing big. ’

‘ i promise i’m fine.’ 

‘ just let me… sleep it off. ’

‘ i don’t want you to worry, but… ’

‘ it looks worse than it feels. ’

‘ do you think it’s infected? ’

‘ give me that gauze. ’

‘ no, i’m not stopping the mission now.’ 

‘ i’m seeing this thing through. ’

‘ stitch me up, will you? ’

FROM A DYING MUSE : 

‘ don’t forget me, alright? ’

‘ shhh. it’s okay, now. ’

‘ i’m just glad that you’re here with me. ’ 

‘ i could’ve done so much more! ’ 

‘ i don’t want to go. ’

‘ go on without me. ’

‘ don’t leave me.’ 

‘ it’s getting real dark over here… ’

‘ i wanted to do everything in the world with you. ’

‘ i… love you.’ 

70 Taunting Enemies Prompts

Remember, requests are open.

WARNINGS: VIOLENCE, CURSING, MENTION OF BLOOD. MENTION OF A GUN.

DIALOGUE:

TAUNTER:

1) “Is that really all you got?” 

2) “Come on, you can do better than that.” 

3) “I’m not even sweating yet.” 

4) “Think I broke more of a sweat petting my cat than I did fighting you.” 

5) “I’m sure you can hit me if you try hard enough. I believe in you.” 

6) “So close.” 

7) “You’re… boring me.”

8) “I expected more.”

9) “Why couldn’t the cops deal with you?” 

10) “Oh, no.” (said really sarcastically) 

11) “I’m sooo scared.” 

12) “Honestly, if you weren’t threatening actual lives, you’d be more of a nuisance, really.” 

13) “This is what I was called for? You?” 

14) “What… is this?” 

15) “Do you want me to slow down for you?” 

16) “If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you get a hit in.” 

17) “This is stupid. Goodnight.” 

18) “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be good enough to beat me one day.” 

19) “Come and get it.” 

20) “That actually hurt. Wow.” 

21)  “Compared to my usual crowd, you’re nothing.” 

22) “Get out of my way.” 

23) “Move.” 

24) “Having fun?” 

25) “Aw, you’re not hurt already, are you?” 

26) “I was just playing. Surely you can take more.” 

27) “Oh my, is that blood? Just from that?”

RESPONDING 

28) “You have to get through me!”

29) “Shut up!” 

30) “I can keep going.” 

31) “This— this is nothing.” 

32) “I’ll make you regret saying that!”

33) “Then let me make this a little more challenging!” 

34) “Of course it hurts, dipshit.” 

35) “You should be scared.” 

36) “Stop— stop taunting me!” 

37) “Fun? Fun? Don’t insult me.” 

38) “I’ll show you better!” 

39) “I can’t stand you.” 

40) “Get out of my way!” 

41) “Over my dead body!” 

42) “I won’t let you get to them.” 

43) “I’ll make sure you can’t hurt anybody else.” 

44) “Over my grave, you bastard.” 

45) “Dammit, all right, here we go!”

46) “I’ll take you down if it’s the last thing I do.” 

47) “If I can’t take you down, I will never forgive myself.” 

48) “Try and move me, I dare you!” 

49) “You’re gonna regret that!” 

50) “You want to see what I can do?” 

51)  “You’re nothing.”

52) “Keep taunting me and see what happens.” 

53) “I’ll give you one chance, walk away.” 

54) “Fine, I guess we’re doing this.” 

55) “Y’know, talking during fighting isn’t very professional!” 

SCENARIOS 

56) You have a stupid smirk on your face, and I’m just trying to be serious. Why are you like this? Can we fight already? 

57) Why are you taunting me? Stop— stop dancing. We’re in the middle of a fight. 

58) When the cops/superhero/my friend told me what you were doing, I wanted to stay in bed. And now that I’m here, I’m thinking that maybe I should have. 

59) Is that bomb fake or real. I can never tell with you.

60) I’m bleeding from your knife/kicks/punches, but I’m not gonna stop fighting until you’re finally taken down. 

61) Every time you taunt me, I see red, and you know this. I should be stronger, but I’m not. 

62) I won’t let you hurt the people I love. Not while I’m still breathing. 

63) You notice that I’m breathing heavy, and you just keep smirking. I— I can keep going. I can. 

64) We used to be friends, what happened to us? Why do we always have to fight? 

65) If you’d just put that gun/remote/knife, we could go home, y’know? We don’t have to keep fighting. 

66) You’re not fighting like you used to, what happened? 

67) This is pathetic and a waste of my time, you’re in my way. 

68) You’ve gotten weaker, I can’t help but let a smirk cross my lips, this is almost… funny. 

You stumble against the wall with half-lidded eyes. It’d be so easy to just stroll by you, but for some reason, I can’t help but keep taunting you. 

69) You hate me. I hate you. Yet, taunting you is one of my favorite things to do. 

&. 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  various  fluffy  dialogue  prompts  so  soft,  so  sweet,  just  for  you!  )

❛ i just wanted to make sure you’re okay. ❜

❛ there it is, there’s that smile! ❜

❛ you got me flowers? ❜

❛ i’m not afraid of you. ❜

❛ aw, did you miss me? ❜

❛ you’re lucky that you’re cute. ❜

❛ wait, you think i’m cute? ❜

❛ you’re not alone. you never were. ❜

❛ i don’t think i’ve ever seen you smile. ❜

❛ good morning, sleeping beauty. ❜

❛ it’s better with you here. ❜

❛ don’t worry, i’m staying right here. ❜

❛ you’re welcome to stay, if you want. ❜

❛ don’t be a stranger, okay? ❜

❛ i haven’t laughed like this in a long time. ❜

❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜

❛ you can hold my hand, if you want. ❜

❛ i knew you would be here. ❜

❛ i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. ❜

❛ before you do anything, try this and tell me what you think. ❜

❛ wow i really can’t speak, huh? must be because of how pretty you look. ❜

❛ we can order pizza, watch a movie, whatever you want. ❜

❛ what, am i not allowed to look at you? ❜

❛ i’m not giving up on you. ❜

❛ is that my shirt? ❜

❛ this is a good look for you. ❜

❛ pinky promise? ❜

❛ c’mere, you. ❜

❛ honey, i’m home! ❜

❛ you remembered? ❜

❛ you’re my family too. ❜

❛ let’s go somewhere, just you and me. ❜

❛ i’m here for you. don’t forget that. ❜

❛ you’re the only thing that matters. ❜

❛ was that your first kiss? ❜

❛ i was worried something happened to you. ❜

❛ your heart is beating so fast right now. ❜

❛ relationships are built on trust, and i trust you. ❜

❛ you always see the good in people. even me. ❜

❛ do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are? ❜

❛ nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time! ❜

❛ thanks to you, i know what it means to love again. ❜

❛ how about a kiss before i go? ❜

❛ i’m just glad you’re okay. ❜

❛ here we are, home sweet home. ❜

❛ thanks for being here with me. ❜

❛ seeing you happy is all that matters. ❜

❛ keep it. it looks better on you. ❜

❛ i couldn’t stop missing you if i tried. ❜

❛ you feel like home to me. ❜

Dialogue prompt

“Never in my life have I been more embarrassed to be seen with you, you imbecile.”

“Aww you love me, admit it.”

“That is highly debatable at the moment”

some sleepy scenarios

## since you all seemed to enjoy the sleepy dialogue prompts~

tracing your lover's features as they sleep

trying to count the freckles on your partner's cheeks when they're asleep

waking up with their legs over yours as they're stretched out and comfortable

taking pictures after finding your lover dozing peacefully while bundled up in blankets

running fingers through their hair as they snooze against your shoulder

feeling their fingers run through your hair while they lull you to sleep

napping on the couch together

hearing them snore a little for the first time

maybe the snoring is small, quiet and you can't help but giggle since it's kind of cute

or maybe it's quite loud and you realize you plan to spend the rest of your life with this

seeing that they're finding a hard time finding a comfortable position so you pull them into your arms

being annoyed because it's extremely hot out and they insist that they cuddle that night

laughing at their messy hair in the morning

sleepy kisses peppered all over their face

seeing them pout or scrunch their nose a little in their sleep

needing to use the restroom but they're clinging onto you like a koala and you don't want to wake them up

they're sick and finally fall asleep sprawled out on the sofa ..meaning you can sit for a few minutes yourself

apologizing when you call them and hear their deep, sleepy voice answer

pulling them back into bed before they go to work but they accidentally dozed off again and is about to be late

trying not to laugh too loud when you discover they talk in their sleep and say some very questionable things

playing hard to get [pt. 3]

premise. he delighted in being the object of your affections. the apple of your eye, your dearest treasure, your one and only darling—

so why aren't you acting like it now?

(or, in which he takes his admirer's love for granted until you decide to play hard-to-get.)

includes. ayato & heizou !

part one. diluc, xiao & childe.

part two. zhongli, albedo & kazuha.

note. i send snippets of wips and post something entirely different. oops. also this is extremely long compared to prior chapters (my favoritism is showing).

ayato dreads arranged marriages. even now, as the yashiro commissioner who understands the importance of forging political alliances, the thought of it is distasteful. presently, he has no person in his heart he'd rather marry, but that doesn't mean he finds the idea of pursuing a loveless relationship agreeable.

so when he first meets you, he's a little surprised. you're fidgety just like he is, but it isn't out of agitated worry; you look excited, can almost be described enthusiastic for the deal.

ridiculous, ayato thinks. you must be one of those shallow people easily wooed by appearances. he knows he's dashing, but he never liked anyone who's only drawn to that part of himself, and he doubts that will change in the future.

(still, as the marriage talk progresses between ayato and your parents, he finds himself distracted by the way you blow on your hot cup of tea, scrunching your nose when it burns your tongue. the moment you notice him staring however, you quickly switch gears and duck your head down in panic, reviewing etiquette lessons in your mind and trying to remember if blowing on your tea is a form of disrespect.)

(cute.)

(no it isn't, what are you thinking.)

ayato doesn't have the free time to afford frequent visits. most of the time, you're the one visiting the kamisato estate, often unable to see him and ayaka receives your presence instead. in the few chances you do catch him in a good time, conversations over tea and pastries are awkward and strained, made even worse by ayato's unwillingness to reply in a sentence longer than five words. he doesn't want you to get any closer to him, and perhaps you'll finally lose interest if he keeps up this charade.

(but sometimes, just sometimes, really, he'll gift you tea leaves he procured from foreign lands. they cost a hefty price, but he always puts a frown on your face, and if they bring back just a quick upturn of your lips, he'll consider it a successful apology.)

yet when you lose interest in him, he isn't very ecstatic.

he should be. you send less letters recently, and your visits to the estate even lesser. there's no attendant knocking on his door alerting him of your presence to interrupt his flow of work, and there's no guest he's obligated to entertain. most importantly, there's nobody he's obligated to marry.

(that doesn't stop him from worrying. doesn't make him feel any better. doesn't make him any less disappointed even when this result was what he was hoping for.)

eventually, rumors start to circulate. they say you're now besotted with a lord in the south, often spotted strolling around together and conversing over shared meals. they say you've fallen out of love for the yashiro commissioner you once begged your parents to let you marry, disillusioned by his stoic nature devoid of affection. they say you much rather prefer the romantic lord gifting you pretty robes and fragrant perfumes, finding comfort in his lavish sweetness opposed to ayato's cold indifference.

for that, he can't fault you at all. this... lord seems to court you properly. what rights does he have to be angry when he's done nothing to deserve your attention? besides, it's a win-win for everybody—ayato doesn't have to go through the arranged marriage he couldn't refuse due to your father's persistence, and you can be wed to a man who's genuinely fond of you, eager to treat you well.

still. still. these irrational thoughts keep plaguing his mind, ugly feelings blooming in his chest when images of you with another man settle in the corners of his subconscious. it's difficult to focus when you could be elsewhere locking hands with someone other than him, cheery laughter spilling from your lips as dappled sunlight makes you glow gold. you could be elsewhere wrapped in another man's embrace, protected from the chilly wind within his heat as he whispers sweet nothings to your ear. you could be...

you could be perfectly happy without him.

ayato hasn't spent much time with you, if at all. you didn't have any meaningful conversations, any beautiful memories you could look back on.

but that was because he didn't give you a chance to. he chose to disregard your existence, deliberately avoided reciprocating your efforts to connect. he didn't see you for who you were, he looked at you as the person he wanted you to be—someone vile, someone shallow, someone easy to despise.

and no matter how many rumors there are reporting how you supposedly begged your parents to establish an arranged marriage between you and ayato, he knew better: you should've been as miserable as he was about it. you never asked to get married either.

at first, he thought you already fell in love with him the first time you saw him; your eyes were sparkling with joy. but now that he thinks about it, perhaps you were just relieved you weren't about to get married to someone twice your age. he looked fairly decent, far from the horrific men you'd hear about disrespecting their spouses when they marry into the family. if it was him, known for his fair ruling in his territory, being married probably wouldn't be too bad.

and ayato had fantastically ruined that impression of himself by being the biggest dickwad possible.

so he hastily makes his move—he sends flowers to your doorstep, writes heartfelt letters referencing love poems. he still doesn't have the time to visit in person, but he gives you jewelry and hairpins he thinks would look on you and hopes he can see you wearing them the next time you meet. he recalls every piece of information you've shared with him and gifts you books you expressed interest for in the few times you talked, presents you with tea leaves you once told him you wanted to try but haven't gotten an opportunity to due to its rarity.

ayato knows best how rumors tend to exaggerate the subject matter. surely, your relationship with the lord hasn't progressed too far. you've yet to call off the engagement, but ayato shouldn't be complacent either. he should make his intentions clear—he's not giving up on you.

after two weeks of this charade, you rush to the kamisato estate, red-faced and flustered and considerably confused. ayato smiles at the blue crystals adorning your bracelet, familiar with its design. (he picked it out himself, after all.)

“i apologize for my... absence,” you can't find the proper words to say it, gaze flitting from one place to another. you find it difficult to meet his eyes. no matter; ayato finds that shyness cute, too. “i was preoccupied– but!”

your formal tone disappears immediately as you hasten to say, “please don't listen to the rumors about me! i really, really haven't been seeing someone else!”

...???

“i'm very sorry for failing to include in my letters the details about the festival our territory celebrates.” at this, you bow deeply, thus missing the dumbfounded expression on his face, looking incredibly stupid. “in truth, i've been busy with preparations the past month... the lord i've been meeting with is known for the silks his household provides, and we commissioned him our clothes for the festival rites. he's very knowledgeable about perfumes as well, he gave me samples of- oh, i have some on me i thought ayaka might like! of course, i have some for you too, but i can't guarantee you'll like it...” you wince at that, smile turning sheepish. “i did try my best basing off your preferences, but i apologize if it isn't to your satisfaction.”

numbly, he gestures for a servant to accept the gift, fixing his expression into something more blank rather than an obvious display of his thoughts. his very, very messy thoughts, the few he can manage to think amidst the pure shock at the revelation. “i... i see. i appreciate the thought.”

you fidget at his robotic way of speaking, feeling awkward. “did you perhaps... believe the rumors?”

his heart breaks when your voice trails off at the end of your sentence, shrinking to yourself in shame. “absolutely not,” he says. you know, like a liar.

“then that's a relief!” your lips stretch to a relieved smile, punching another spike of guilt to his chest. “i feared you would think lowly of me.”

“ridiculous,” he states, tone unwavering. it takes you slightly aback, and warmth bleeds into his next words, coaxing a deeper red to tint your ears, “i like you a lot more than you think.”

oh, you have no idea.

it doesn't take a detective to know you have a massive crush on heizou.

the way you can't meet his gaze, the flush high on your cheeks, the nervous stutter in your words when you invite him for a stroll around town; heizou would have to be an idiot not to notice. unfortunately for you, he is far from one, so he notices every stare you pin to his figure, every quiver of your lips as you fight back a smile when he looks back, every sign of your elation as he makes his presence known.

and, well. maybe it is a little amusing to watch you squirm. heizou doesn't consider himself a cruel man, but he'd be lying if he said he doesn't enjoy seeing you worked up because of him.

he wonders what you find so charming. pursuing romance has never been a high priority for him, flaunting his appealing traits to potential partners lesser so, and as honorable chasing after criminals can be, he doesn't think anyone would find that attractive in the romantic sense.

more often than not, he's told to be too dedicated in his job, which he would normally take as a compliment, thank you very much, but he does see how it could be a flaw as a spouse. it's pretty much general knowledge he can't guarantee his undivided attention for anyone, even his special person (that he's not very eager to find right now).

once, you commented as such, teasing him he won't be able to get a significant other at this rate. jokes on you—from what heizou can see, you're a willing volunteer now.

before, though, was entirely different. in fact, you couldn't even call yourselves friends until just recently. your interactions were hardly noteworthy, simply exchanging cordial greetings when you ran into each other on the road or sharing the briefest conversations if the situation called for it.

you only became proper friends when you got involved in one of heizou's cases and helped him through it. turns out you were extremely compatible all along, to the extent heizou regretted not befriending you earlier. you're bubbly and cheerful, always making him laugh when you crack the most unexpected of jokes. even in companionable silence, he felt a little brighter and optimistic—you were like a positive ball of sunshine, a great pal to have.

so he received the shock of a lifetime when he first began to notice signs of your budding crush.

your easy-going smiles looked tighter, eyes not quite focused on his face, hands fidgeting behind your back. at the start, heizou thought maybe you did something wrong, or you were hiding something from him...

then you were blushing, asking him if he was free after work. heizou is ashamed to admit his brain had gone completely blank that time, truly empty with the exception of your face flashing in his mind, holy fuck, you're blushing, you've never done that before.

he doesn't remember his response. still can't, even now. but what he does remember is how your face lit up when he said something, eyes sparkly with enthusiasm. you talked about some trendy restaurant that just opened around the block but heizou could hardly hear your explanation over the sound of his heart hammering in his chest. the new revelation had his blood rushing, and he really, really didn't know what to think of you.

weeks later, he finds you cute.

the initial panic wore off and now he enjoys seeing you flail around. you're cute when you're clumsy, tripping over air when you make eye contact with him. you're cute when you get embarrassed, woken up by heizou when you accidentally fall asleep on his shoulder. you're cute when you're shy, stammering as you offer to walk home together.

you're cute, and heizou has to do something about that soon.

not once has he thought to distance himself from you upon realizing your feelings. sure, it felt awkward at the beginning, but if there was something he was certain of, it was that he didn't want to lose you. now, he wanted to be closer than ever, the closest he's ever been to another person.

apparently, you didn't get the memo because you're the one distancing yourself from him.

it's not hard to guess what you're thinking. you're probably getting worried you're being too obvious about your feelings, missing all the blatant signs that point to heizou feeling the same, and feeling the very delayed horror of being rejected.

no, seriously. it's very delayed. you're supposed to be scared first before you think of hitting on someone. all of your concerns are void anyway; heizou has known about your crush ages ago.

you're surprisingly good at hiding. heizou has been missing you by a hair, all of his acquaintances claiming to see you some time around the day conveniently when he isn't present. there are traces of you everywhere, trails from your favorite snack stall to the bookstore you frequent to the flower fields you help take care of, but he could never catch you on time. his frustration is nearly overriding his rationality, even though he knows for a fact putting up wanted posters of your face would be a bad, bad idea.

fine, he thinks. i'll lure you out myself.

and that, he does.

one of the few things he first learned about you is your curiosity; when a mystery piques your interest, you won't rest easy until it's solved. that's why you began to follow him around, watching him dig through secrets and piece together deductions. you have a fascination with the unknown, and heizou knows best how to take advantage of it.

he leaves bait, a simple riddle scrawled on a sticky note posted on your office desk to make you scratch your head. when you take it too lightly and ignore it, he steals your prized hairpin—a birthday gift he gave you a year ago—as a warning. in panic, you provide a correct answer, and the very next day, the hairpin is back on your table, together with a brand new barrette considerably nicer in quality.

the next mysteries continue in a similar pattern; a reward for the right answer, a punishment for the wrong one. he makes you solve puzzles, decipher secret code, unravel riddles—each time, you complain about the work and your determination not to seek out heizou for help chips away, but you've never showed any indication of conceding defeat. you're determined to find the “thief” who's always threatening to rob your possessions if you don't play along his silly games and confront him once and for all.

finally, heizou is finished preparing his greatest puzzle yet—a grand treasure hunt encompassing the entire town. it's a big project involving a large number of people, some of which have probably caught onto his intentions, but heizou wills away his embarrassment; if he lets his shame get to him, then nothing will change.

he's had enough of playing hide and seek.

and as your hand grips the final letter, eyes sweeping over the provocative message, the clock ticks closer to the grand finale—

“i have one last trick; don't worry, if you're lucky, it'll end quick.

beneath the stars, find the treasure by nine. if you fail to catch the prize, i will take back what is mine.”

(a worthless threat—how could he take back his heart that's always been yours?)

“what's this?” you ask, eyeing the carefully packed bag in your hands.

“it's that dress you were eyeing on our date.” rin says casually, scrolling away on his phone.

“the dress i was eyeing?,” your gaze trails off, rewinding your memories back to three days when you had your weekly date with rin. maybe it was after the movie ended, when you decided to look around the shops. you may have let your gaze linger on a particular dress for a mere seconds.

“rin, i glanced at it for like, two seconds.” you say.

“five,” he corrects, “you stared at it for five seconds.”

“okay, five, but you got me this based on that?” you question amusingly.

“i thought you wanted it, you don't like it?” he says tilting his head, a subtle frown stretching on his lips that doesn't go unnoticed by you.

“no, i do like it. but you don't have to get me everything i just look at.” you smile sweetly, bringing a hand to caress his cheeks and letting your fingers graze his lips.

“but you looked at it for five seconds.”

“....”

“i also got you that perfume you said smelled nice.”

“rin...”

© seimirii 2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

rin as a super observant bf who gets u whatever your eyes linger on for more than a second (¯▿¯)

How about a dying character's last words to their lover?

Give me that sweet, gut-wrenching angst.

saying goodbye to your dying lover

'' i love you. ''

'' don't say it. ''

'' please don't leave me. ''

'' it's over/i'm ready. ''

'' what about our future? ''

'' forever didn't last very long. but at least it was a very happy middle. ''

'' you are, by far, the greatest thing that ever happened to me in my [x] years on this Earth. ''

'' i get to die knowing i was loved—not just by anyone—by you. ''

'' i will never love anyone the way i love you. '' '' i pray to god that you do. ''

'' name, i'll find you. ''

'' we'll be together again, i promise. ''

'' it doesn't hurt anymore. ''

'' i'm in the arms of my first love. ''

'' stay with me. ''

'' i'm glad it's me. ''

'' knowing that you'll get the chance to live your life, it brings me the greatest joy. ''

'' i'm not going anywhere. ''

'' you can't sit here and watch me bleed out. ''

'' you're gonna be okay, do you hear me? ''

'' promise me you'll be happy. that you'll love again. ''

The pale elf has ruined my life