Hawk Tuah B4 U Can Talk Tuah😼

TAYLOR SWIFT MENTIONED!??!!??????!!!!

You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath

Synopsis: trying to spend time with your boyfriend while keeping your relationship private… or a secret…

Content: Alhaitham x fem!reader, low-profile/secret relationship, angst no comfort, writer!reader,

Warnings: slightly toxic if you squint, guilt-tripping, neglect, arguing, long intro (it gets good i promise), cursing, not proofread

Note: (Title from Taylor Swift’s ‘All Too Well (10 Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version)’) I tried to make this as in-character as possible while trying to convey the conflict of the plot so please let me know if there are any inaccuracies

—

The walls of Lambad’s tavern grew dim as the sun set; you, Tighnari, and Kaveh sat at a table having a little get-together. It didn’t feel complete, though, because two members of the group have yet to arrive. Cyno said he would be late due to an interrogation he has to do. And Alhaitham… he didn’t really give a notice but you all figured he was busy, being the acting grand sage and all that.

After a 30-minute rant about Kaveh’s clients, you talked about writing a new novel but you had no idea how to start it.

“Questions are overrated,” said Kaveh as he downed his drink, “I suggest you start with an at-large murder suspect being chased down by government officials—not guardes or the millelith, literal government officials.”

“You could ask Cyno for inspiration,” Tighnari suggests. You consider the idea but you figured Cyno wouldn’t have the time. “Or you could ask Alhaitham. I remember he has some experience in that field too.”

“Ah, yes,” you reply meekly. “I had forgotten.”

Hearing Alhaitham’s name felt like a stab to the heart, a curse laid upon you. You weren’t sure if it was out of love or suffering. After two years of dating, not a single soul knew about the two of you. As you asked yourself why that is, you give yourself an excuse that he simply wasn’t ready to be out. That he wanted you to make a name for yourself in case people would only remember you as the acting grand sage’s partner and not your rightful title as a writer.

When he first introduced the idea of keeping your relationship low-profile, you thought nothing of it. You knew he had no ill-intentions with the situation, so you agreed. But you thought the coast would be clear 6 months into the relationship.

During that time, the only signs of affection you got from him were when he was seldom tired from work and came home to you, longing for your warmth and drowning you with the most beautifully crafted compliments you could only dream of hearing. It was the side of him only you got to see. It was almost an honor being able to witness such greatness, all the while feeling like a goddess, worshipped and gratified by the gift of your presence.

Nowadays, you no longer felt like a deity worth praying to; that side of him became rarer than it already was.

The times when you were together—together being with the rest of your friends—you would always try to make some sort of contact with him just to feel the thrill of love your heart was aching to have, only for him to starve you of it and leave.

You felt alone, neglected, desperate, nonexistent, like a forgotten dream worth pursuing.

Everytime you thought of leaving, frames and fragments of his flattering psalms and echoing touch seemed worth the mind-numbing pain you’re going through. You’re the only one for me, he’d say. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. He would gaze upon you like you were a full moon, and you would embrace him like he was the sun.

But basking under the sun is bound to get you burned.

About an hour later, already midnight, Cyno had already arrived but Alhaitham was nowhere to be seen. Kaveh has had too many drinks and is now drunk to the core. And with the hopes of seeing Alhaitham’s face for once, you drank your fair share too. Your cheeks glowed with a drunken flush, a fire setting aflame to your frozen heart. Something he could never do.

“Looks like the acting grand sage will not be joining us,” Cyno pointed out.

A guffaw escaped from your throat, “What is there to even expect, Alhaitham has been busy since that damned Azar did… something.”

You can’t think clearly. The laugh you let out almost sounded like a sob, and to be honest, you were on the verge of crying. You were just tired. You needed the warmth only the love of your life could provide.

Then out of the blue, the voice you longed for an eternity echoed through the tavern, tired and monotonous. “Apologies for my utmost tardiness, there were some issues at the akademiya I needed to handle.”

Alhaitham.

Your stomach hurt all of the sudden. You watched as he walked to the seat opposite of you. Shouldn’t you be happy now? You were just about to break down because he wasn’t here. Now that he is, you should be content and watch your boyfriend from afar. But all you could feel was betrayal, the blank agony of despair, the cruel sting of rejection.

He failed to notice the tears that glossed your eyes, assuming it was the reflection of the light. Your gaze pierced his soul with desperation, begging for him to console you and just… do whatever. You were asking for even a squeak, a sliver of concern, the bare minimum.

“Tighnari, how is Collei doing with her studies?” Like he had a shield for your painful daggers, he didn’t even glance at your direction. Disappointment filled you like a glass of wine. You should be used to this by now—the overwhelming weight when he avoided your leg, another desperate cry you needed him to hear.

Tighnari shared Collei’s progress after seeing that you were okay. As much as you were proud of her, you prayed to every archon not to let her be in your situation. Your heart shreds for the other person, it screams his name like a priest in worship, and all that for naught.

The group laughed at something, you weren’t listening all that much. You just felt… empty.

Kaveh’s voice called your name, “Isn’t that right, Y/N?” The group turns to you, who was dazed and distracted. The architect immediately noticed this. He patted your cold hand, “Y/N?”

“Hm? Ah, yes. Yeah, sure.”

Alhaitham laughed, “You seem distracted tonight, Y/N. If you’re looking to write for the akademiya, that kind of attitude will not be tolerated.”

Somehow you got defensive. Was it Alhaitham’s obliviousness? The way he made it seem like you were aloof? His laugh that mocked you in your desolate state? Maybe it was all of the above. Whatever it was, it made you snap.

“Ah, Alhaitham, akademiya this, akademiya that—there are more things to life than work, you know.” Your voice covered up your attacks as simple friendly banter. You’ve gotten good at sucking up your anxieties and steadying your voice all thanks to him. Now you can cover yourself up real nice when you commit a crime. You have a knife in mind, and you’re ready to kill. “Like, I don’t know, a partner, per say.”

Stab.

The grand sage scoffed, “You know very well I don’t have time for such trivial things.” His muscles flex as he crossed his arms. So these were the words he chose to say to you, after centuries of broken promises and empty plates.

“Maybe you would if you actually made the time for one.”

Stab.

“You are aware that you just ignored what I just said, right? Are you even listening?”

Stab.

“Oh, I’ve been listening. For the past two years, I’ve been listening my butt out for you.” It was scarring how unbothered Alhaitham was; you wanted to scream at him. The tightening of your chest, the prickling of tears behind your eyes, the weight of despair settling in your stomach, could he see what you’re going through? “Now, all I ask is a little bit of sympathy because I have been suffering all alone, waking up to an empty bed, not even a-“

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” Alhaitham interrupted you, somewhat panicked. You didn’t realize how loud you were being, up from your seat with your palm stinging from how hard it hit the table. “You know, if you’re having boy problems, you don’t have to take it out on me. It’s not like I’m your boyfriend.”

Right then and there, your world began crashing down. “Alhaitham,” Cyno muttered disapprovingly, making Alhaitham realize how rude he sounded. The tavern’s customers hushed to listen to your table. You hadn’t realized there were so many people.

Without even looking around, you could feel their eyes on you, whispers riddled with scandal.

“They’re being so loud.”

“Has she no shame?”

“In the presence of Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham, too.”

“Look, the general mahamatra is there; she really needs to watch herself.”

The embarrassment, the anger; it all fuelled you with a feeling you could not explain. No metaphor could capture the entirety of the wickedness of a man. How come he gets to sit there with everyone’s respect while you grovel in your puddle of tears? How come he’s having the time of his life while you’re burning in hell?

“You’re right,” you began, eyes dulled and void of life—of love, “You’re not. Okay, that’s all the liquor I can handle, guys. I think I’ll be heading home now.”

“Y/N,” Kaveh called, standing from his seat to escort you on your way out.

“I can walk myself, Kaveh.” You grabbed your things and took a sip of water. “Acting Grand Sage, humblest apologies.” Once again, you looked at him with utmost disappointment before leaving the tavern and heading home.

—

I am adrift in a sea of longing, drowning in the silence of his absence, clutching to memories like driftwood in a storm-tossed ocean. Yet still, I cling to the fading embers of our love, fearing the darkness that awaits should I let them fade to ash.

Hours after you returned home, sleep had not been your friend. As much as it would be typical, you cried until your eyes stung. It was now 4am, the time Alhaitham usually wakes up. Lost in your never-ending, ever-agonizing thoughts, you stared blankly at the dining room, wondering if he will finally recognize his mistakes, how much pain you’ve been in.

The knob of your front door twisted open, and surprise, surprise, it was Alhaitham who entered your apartment. “What the FUCK was that, Y/N?” He was not one to raise his voice like that, or even curse.

“Of all the nights I was available, this was when and how you choose to talk to me?” Your voice was the opposite—calm, sad, empty.

“Do you realize you nearly told everyone about our relationship?” He spotted a notebook on your crossed lap and grabbed it. “What’s that, ‘I am adrift in a sea of..’ what? Y/N, is there something you’re not telling me?”

“You specialized in languages, Alhaitham, you’ll figure it out.”

The man scoffed, “I’m not a mind reader, Y/N, if you could stop being immature-“

“You’re calling me immature? Okay, what about you keeping our two-year relationship a fucking secret?” The both of you continued raising your voices at each other. If people in the tavern hadn’t already spread rumors, this will surely start them. “Just tell me you’re ashamed of me, Alhaitham!” Then the man fell silent. Serves him right. “Tell me you don’t love me, so you can have a concrete reason to leave!”

“You know being the acting grand sage was never an easy task. The Fatui and other rebelling organizations have me as their number one target, and they are more than willing to hurt anyone to get their way! I was keeping us a secret to protect you! Seeing you getting hurt would mean the end of the world.”

“Getting hurt?” You scoff, “If you never wanted me to get hurt, you’re doing a terrible fucking job. I had to sit through multiple tables with empty seats because you were never home. Do you know how embarrassing that is for myself? I had to tolerate every ounce of contact you avoided because ‘someone might see us.’ In case you couldn’t get how much pain I’m in, let me sum it up for you—IT HURTS MORE THAN DEATH, ALHAITHAM!”

As the last echoes of your argument faded into the silence of the empty apartment, it felt as though the very foundations of your world was crumbling around them. Each word spoken was like a dagger to the heart, tearing apart the fragile bonds of love that had once held you together.

Every word you said stung his chest, the last part beating him to a pulp. It was too late for regret to cross his mind. “I really did love you, Alhaitham, more than anything.”

Those words… he hadn’t heard them in what felt like eternity. All he wanted to do was melt into your arms and apologize endlessly for all his wrongdoings, the times he barely came home, the mornings he could’ve spent with you. He’s been feeling this way for what feels like centuries. If he opened his arms to you, would you still embrace him? Would you still forgive him?

“But I can’t keep giving myself excuses to tolerate all of this.”

He looked at you, your eyes that were once so full of light now dimming of any source. The desperation, the longing you both share. There was so much sadness in your eyes. Have you always looked at him that way? Alhaitham was always quick on his feet—he had to find a way to convince you to stay!

“Y/N,” he began, “We can’t just give up on everything we’ve been through. All the dates, anniversaries, everything we took our time to make—it will all be a waste if we give up now.”

“I think you gave up on us the first time you dropped my hand when I reached for you.”

You were slowly slipping from his grasp, from his future. “I’m willing to give you all the time you need. Every meal, every date, every word you desire, I will make time for all of it. I promise you.”

“How can I know this will be another empty promise? How will I know you won’t do this again? You were never the type to offer everything so helplessly, Alhaitham.”

“Y/N, can’t you see-“

“Where were you during my sleepless nights? Where were you when I had prepared the perfect dinner for us? Where were you when I stood in the middle of the park, waiting for a certain someone to show up?

You were never there, Alhaitham. But I forgave you for all of that. I gave you a million last chances.”

A million last chances… you were thinking of leaving him beforehand? When he couldn’t seem to move his mouth, you decided you’ve had enough.

“Please, leave.”

It was too late for him now. He was long gone from saving you, from saving this relationship. There was nothing left to say, or do.

In the dim light of dawn, you both stood alone, tears a silent testament to the shattered dreams and broken promises that littered the floor like shards of glass. And as you watched your former lover walk away, a part of you knew that the wounds inflicted that night would never fully heal, leaving behind nothing but the bitter taste of regret and the haunting echo of what could have been.

(Part 2 coming soon!)

ELY AT THE LAST PIC HELP

call it what you want — at last.

a genshin impact smau | xiao x gn!reader

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST

SUMMARY as part of the student council, you’ve been tasked to recruit the local band playing in your university’s bar. xiao, who’s the band’s bassist, seems to be the only one refusing your offer to join the foundation day. you have two weeks to make him agree to perform on stage in front of the whole university or you’re off the council for good.

NOTES and that's it! call it what you want has finally ended <3 i want to thank all of you for being here with me! thank you so much for all the asks, replies, notes, and brainrots hehe. it has been such a wild ride, especially with my sporadic updates. i really hope that you enjoyed the story:D i'd love to really thank all of you for being here with me, this has been such a long smau hshshha but i'm glad you all stayed despite my inconsistencies! 🫶

TAGLIST @ceylestia @ecselisse @x-xxiaos @sugxqts @ljinghe @yaefics @astreankitsune @trashcanweeb @blackrabb1t @imtoodumbforaname @alatusorrow @xoxotheaxoxo @cottonkendi @thelost-in-time @miss-lovesick @dazaiscum @rrinsluvr @dayleng @ghostiedolly @berryqueue @queenaveryrules @faeriemixx @xingqiusliegee @kiyowoir @sunflower3216 @cotton-eee @one-offmind @lunavixia @starryeyedkoko @kazeniya @mikctp @snowggvk

@deimmortales99 @koi-eater @kaz3yo @zannivrs @wccycc @gorouswrld @van-chii @veyu002 @estelwrld @zeroiskira @berryunderscore @g6nyyyu @plinkuro @kaedear @tokkishouse @dainsleif-when-playable @hishui [1/3]

thank you so much to all of you! 🫶

Hear me out

More on the Blk×hp crossover because it has taken over my life

Okay, Kaiser hears a rumour that you and isagi are dating.

This infuriates kaiser to no end. He doesn't know why it pisses him off. He's being extra mean to you, and you can't seem to figure out why. Don't even get me started on Quidditch. He's got it out for Isagi, he's more aggressive towards poor isagi. What if Isagi gets hurt? You're tending to him and omgg it gets him . Bro is loosing his shit atp.

If he sees you guys together at Hogsmeade on Valentine's day...

I just want to see his ass suffer and when he realizes that it's false information lmfao 🤣 and bro was torturing himself (and poor Ness #nessdeservesbetter😔 #justiceforness) over nothing

Yeahh that's it. Please forgive me if there're any grammatical errors

Take care.

Happy Valentines 💝

characters ; michael kaiser

contains ; hogwarts au, slytherin!kaiser, ravenclaw!reader, gryffindor!isagi, mild violence

happy (late) valentine's day, angel! you've put me in a ditzy because of this ask, so i thank you kindly for feeding into my daydreams i quite like this stupid little white boy <3 (also i said in a previous post that yoichi would be a ravenclaw, but i think he suits gryffindor a lil more ngl esp after ch293 :P)

kaiser would most DEFINITELY be the type of person to let out his anger through his playing, so expect there to be a ton of fouls from him during the gryffindor vs. slytherin match because he just "accidentally" keeps running into isagi, nearly knocking him off his broom more than ounce. it doesn't help that there's been whispers circulating that there's been confirmation of you and isagi officially being a couple after the many speculations from stray eyes that keep a rather close eye on you and him. the golden boy of gryffindor and the ace of ravenclaw... many would agree that you and him would be power couple in the halls of hogwarts, completely disregarding kaiser. it didn't help that evidently, you and isagi got along much better than you and kaiser did, sharing soft smiles and joyous laughter amongst each other rather than hardened glares and quick-witted insults. you were best friends after all, not sworn rivals like you and he were.

slytherin ends up winning the match, kaiser rising victorious by scoring the winning goal to break the tie, but he can't really celebrate his win in full because he sees you later tidying up some wounds and scratches isagi had gotten from the match in the preparation tent. his jaw grits, watching the intimate scene unfurl before him.

isagi hisses through his teeth when you gently place the cotton bud on an open wound on his elbow.

you wince, pulling your hand back. "i'm sorry..."

"no," isagi shakes his head, encouraging you to keep going. "i'm fine, it just stings a bit, 's all..."

you look at him with a doubtful countenance, but dab the alcohol-soaked cotton bud anyway, trying not to notice the way isagi's eyes close in pain. tenderly, you place a band-aid on the skin before you soak another cotton bud and move to the scratch on his cheek, your fingers brushing his reddened cheek (the hue unnoticed by you) when you repeat the process to help disinfect and clean up the small gash.

"he's such a bastard," you mutter softly, "he should've gotten a foul when he nearly knocked you into the hufflepuff stands."

isagi shrugs, "it is what it is."

"is it me or did he seem more pissed than usual?" you inquire, your fingers smoothing over the bandage you've placed over the cut. "like he was taking his anger on you specifically. did you do something to him?"

"hell if i know," isagi sighs, rolling his eyes. "it's hard to read kaiser."

kaiser's eyes narrow as you hold isagi's face in your palm, his nails digging into his palms as he watches you examine him for any spare injuries you didn't tend to. not wanting to infuriate himself with this meddling nonsense, he decides to replace the feeling with pride and glory, stomping out of the tent and replacing the loud throbbing in his ears with the cheers of his fellow slytherins that shout his name in a steady beat as he appears before him.

he bathes in the glory for a bit, letting his ego fill with the approvals of his audience, though from the corner of his eye, he catches a blur of blue and red walk side by side together out of the arena, arm in arm.

on valentine's day, kaiser receives bucketloads of chocolates from his admirers, both known and unknown. he waves them off when ness presents them, going downstairs to fetch some breakfast, only for him to see you hand isagi a medium-sized golden box of chocolates shaped in a diamond that he accepts gratefully, a large smile on his face before he gives you a bag of candies. you go and give your other friends the same chocolates, a small personalized envelope with a card glued onto the front of it, their names all written in a pretty cursive.

he ditches breakfast, deciding he'll eat later and runs up back to his dorm. for some reason this year, unlike the prior ones, he actually shuffles through all the boxes trying to look for a peculiar, diamond shaped one, and he does find it to his satisfaction. he pulls it out so fast from the pile and rips open the card, anticipating a specific someone's name to be signed at the bottom.

... but his face contorts into irritation when an unknown girl's name is read. who the hell is "imogen?"

he tosses the letter over his shoulder, thinking this was stupid. no way did he just spend fifteen minutes attempting to find a box of chocolates from you, knowing the tense relationship between you and him. of course you wouldn't give him any—you weren't even friends! so why the sudden spark of hope...?

kaiser's valentine's day turns even more sour when he tries to distract himself and goes to hogsmeade to fix himself up some firewhiskey, only to see you and isagi in the window of honeydukes, examining candy together. this didn't seem to be a group trip either, considering he didn't recognize anyone else that you were friends with in the store, so you and him must've went together.

right—he nearly forgot. you were a couple now. of course you'd be spending the holiday of love together. that's just common sense.

"you think she'll like this?" isagi asks you, holding up a basket assortment of many candies. "i don't know what she really likes, so i was thinking i'd play it safe and just get her everything."

you grin and throw him a thumbs up. "good move, i think she'd quite like that. maybe throw in that teddy bear we saw earlier."

he nods with a blush on his face that you can only giggle at. you've never seen your best friend so giddy before, especially since he'll be having his first date with the hufflepuff girl in his astronomy class he's been admiring, a pride within you blooming when he told you excitedly this morning that he'd be going to madame puddifoot's soon with her.

"i'm gonna go pay and then go get ready back at my dorm," says isagi as he nudges his head towards the cash register, the gifts he holds in his hands starting to tumble out of his grasp a little. "i'll see you later at dinner to tell you how everything went!"

"good luck! don't be nervous!" you call out to him when he shuffles through the crowd before returning your attention to examine the luxury chocolates they had just imported from belgium.

a shadow looms over you suddenly, and you feel the temperature drop a bit from the air around you. there's an impending sense of doom that pits itself in your stomach, so it doesn't take you too long to discover the identity of the tattooed hand that snatches the box of chocolates you were examining away.

your jaw ticks.

"i was looking at that," you mutter with irritation, slowly turning back around to face a familiar blonde. "... kaiser."

"hm," kaiser merely hums back nonchalantly, eyes flickering over the assortment of flavors indicated on the back. "never thought you'd have such a sophisticated sweet tooth," he mutters as he reads over the unique flavor profiles of each chocolate.

"god forbid someone wants to go out of their comfort zone," you roll your eyes obnoxiously before picking up another box to assess, not wanting to bother to get back the previous one you were holding. of course somehow kaiser makes your life ten times more difficult whenever he was around, even off campus grounds.

the assortments look so tasty, you think, reading over the details of the feuilletine truffle. maybe you should treat yourself this valentine's day, relishing in fancy chocolates and curling up with a good book sounds like your ideal day of rest. you think you deserve an upgrade from the casual chocolates you were used to purchasing for a quick fix...

... until you look at the price of the box of chocolates.

your eyes nearly bulge out of their head when you read the price.

"forty five galleons?!" you whisper-shout under your breath, only loud enough for the man behind you to hear. kaiser's eyes flicker towards your astonished visage. "merlin, was this made out of unicorn hair or something?!"

you sigh and place the box down on the shelf again, choosing to return back to the safety of the generic honeydukes chocolate bar instead of wasting your money on something that'd disappear all too quickly.

"you're not gonna get it?" kaiser inquires as you begin to look for a way out of the chocolates area.

"as if i have that kind of money," you snort haughtily.

"then ask your boyfriend to buy it. it's valentine's day after all," kaiser snarks back, the words coming out of his lips faster than he's able to fully process them. he curses himself in his mind when he realizes what he's said, revealing the fact that your status as a couple wasn't as hidden as some may say.

"huh?" you turn back with a confused look. "boyfriend? what?"

it's kaiser's turn to look perplexed. "your boyfriend?" he repeats and pokes a stray strand of hair from the top of his head to mimic an ahoge. "yoichi isagi? golden boy of gryffindor? sound familiar?"

your brows furrow and you wonder if he's making fun of you.

"yoichi and i aren't dating," you counter back. "who told you that?"

the way kaiser feels relieved feels unnatural, like a giant weight had just been unburdened from his shoulders. he shouldn't even be feeling this heaviness in the first place, but he did and now it's gone just from the mere words that counter his initial belief.

... he still feels relieved, oddly enough.

"i—" kaiser starts, but draws blanks when he attempts to cover up his nasty acceptance of a mere rumor, feeling idiotic he had believed such a thing so fast and so intently. "it's just floating about. since y'know, you guys are so close... and stuff," he mutters hotly.

your lip curls in annoyance. "never thought you'd be one to accept rumors so loosely," you mimic his tone from earlier, crossing your arms. a vein pops in kaiser's forehead at your arrogance, and he opens his mouth to give you a snide response back, but you begin to turn on your heel.

"don't believe such stupid shit so fast," you say, waving a hand to indicate your leave. "it won't do you good in the long-run."

kaiser is eventually left alone in the chocolate aisle, a little flabbergasted at what just happened. he watches you as you exit the store by yourself, choosing not to buy anything while he's in the vicinity. a warmth blooms within kaiser's chest however, when he repeats your denial of a relationship in his head.

"yoichi and i aren't dating."

"they're not dating," kaiser mumbles to himself as he grips the box of expensive chocolates in his hands with a small smile. "yeah... they're not dating."

that evening, you later find a delicately wrapped box placed on your desk with your name on it. you take off the green ribbon and rip open the white wrapping paper and widen your eyes to what's revealed from inside.

it was the box of expensive belgian chocolates you were looking at just hours beforehand. you're astonished, thinking who on earth had spend this much money on you when you try and find the sender of the package, only to be met with a short, mysterious inscription on the back of the box's lid.

"happy valentine's day. eat well and enjoy." —🌹

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

REINCARNATION AU WITH LI LI MU BELOVED

amor vincit mortem

pairing: zhongli x gn!reader

summary: there’s a fragility to each moment spent with you, finite and fleeting as all mortal lives are. but you always find your way back to him, even when you return missing fragments of yourself. he has loved you ever since he was naught but a mere hatchling you’d dug from the earth, and he will continue to do so through war and peace and retirement. (reincarnation au)

note: writing for one of my favorite tropes again, zhongli my beloved i will always give u happy endings, might be a bit inaccurate in some lore and timeline aspects but i tried my best to stick close, multiple character death/s (reader), depictions of blood and death

word count: 4.1k

“Hello again.”

Morax—back in the days when he was just a little dragon incapable of much thought, back when the name Morax hadn’t even been granted to him—nuzzled his little snout against your hand.

You smoothed your fingers over his soft scales, an indication of youth in dragons, and smiled as he melted at the simple affection.

There had been a softness to that moment, a memory untouched by the grimness of war, in a time when peace reigned and the three sisters ruled over the skies, not a floating celestial castle to be seen.

He remembers your voice and your touch, the way your eyes brightened when you smiled and the way the corners of your mouth quirked when telling a story. He didn’t know your name then, only that you were a local in the nearby village who ounce unburied a small dragon from the earth as a child and had taken care of it since.

That dragon was, of course, him.

-

“Here for another meal, little dragon?”

You brought a small piece of meat to his snout, cooing when he took it from your fingers and delicately chewed on the meat.

He doesn’t remember what it tasted, only that it had a soft, chewy texture that made it easier to eat for his soft teeth that were still in the process of hardening as he aged.

A hand ran over the scales on his head.

“You’ll need a name, won’t you? Something to be remembered for all ages.” The sun had hit his eyes then, making him incapable of seeing what kind of expression you’d had. “I just know my little dragon will grow to be a fearsome one.”

-

“Morax!” You laughed, running as the dragon that was now at the same height as your hips chased you across the clearing. “I told you, no more meat or else you’ll become overweight!”

It wasn’t about the meat, he remembers, it was how you always seemed to shine brightest when you were running about without a care for the world around you. He’d only wanted to keep that smile on your face.

You leaned on your knees, gasping for breath, and still, you shone as radiant as the sun to his eyes.

-

You struggled with carting a box full of all sorts of fruit and cooked meat. He used his hardened snout to help you push the cart near the entrance of the cave he usually dwelled in.

“Thank you.” You softly patted the scales beneath his chin. “I’m not as young and spritely as I used to be.”

He huffed an indignant snort as if to disagree with you. A soft exhale left your mouth, fondness evident in the quirk of your lips.

“You understand me, don’t you? You always have, my smart little dragon.”

-

He sat beside you, quiet and solemn as you hummed a tune beneath your breath.

“Morax,” you started, something different in the inflection of your voice. It never returned back to its normal cadence after you caught an illness that had lasted a year and nearly took your life. “I’m not long for this world—”

He shifted in protest, a snarl in his throat that you wave away with a wrinkled hand.

“Don’t be so upset,” you soothed, “It’s simply the way of life.”

You ran a hand through the underside of his chin, feeling the hardened scales that will continue to grow stronger until it can withstand the force of steel—or a meteor.

“You’ll live for a long, long time, and by the time you reach your prime, I will be nothing but a distant memory to you.”

He remembers disagreeing but never outright conveying it to you. He had thought you understood what his silence meant. If only he’d been able to speak back then, he would have spent hours upon hours telling you how much you meant to the little dragon you had dug up from the earth.

-

You laid down for a nap beside him, still managing to look at him with those bright eyes of yours amidst a face weathered by time.

“My little Morax, you’re as big as a house now, aren’t you?” You had softly pet the side of his head as he curled around you. “Wake me up when the sun rises, okay? I want to hand feed you meat like I used to...”

He closed his eyes and let dreams sweep him away once he felt you fall into a deep sleep.

In the morning, he would awake to the sun casting light over him and the stillness by his side.

You never woke up again.

-

He took to guarding your small village from petty thieves and the occasional mercenaries sent by neighboring villages. It’s what you would’ve wanted, he thought then. You had no family, but the elders and the children and the workers you’d made friends with were dear to you, and so, they were dear to him as well.

Word spread of a village being granted the protection of a mighty dragon. More people came asking for shelter and to settle in, he never showed protest to it.

Years passed, the village grew, and he continued to wonder what it would have been like to watch over these people with you by his side.

He remembers days spent lounging in the clearing he buried your body in, an era where peace still reigned and rest was not yet a luxury he couldn’t afford.

-

You appeared on the second century after your passing, wide-eyed and mouth parted in awe as you stared at the large town that used to be your homely little village.

“Morax?”

He had thought it a dream then, a mirage his mind consumed. There was simply no fathomable way you were here in the flesh, alive and whole and young—so much younger than he remembered you being.

But your eyes were still the same, still as bright and resplendent as the sun. You were here. You were real.

He doesn’t know how he ever managed not to squish you beneath his weight back when he’d been young and excited with less restraint to his actions. It is a memory he remembers fondly, stored tightly within his chest, a moment of peace amidst the war looming on the horizon.

It was a comical sight, a human holding their arms out to their side yet still not managing to encompass the entirety of a dragon’s snout. He used to fit so snugly at the palm of your hand.

“Look how big you’ve grown.” You press your lips to a single scale, already as large as your head. “I have missed you, old friend.”

-

It was a worry that niggled at the back of his head amidst questions of how you came back and why you remember him.

Morax, for all his years alive that would seem many to mortals, was still but a young dragon then. Even when he was roughly the size of five houses.

He didn’t want to see you grow old, to watch as time eroded your spirit and left nothing but a husk of what you once were. The thought of having to relive those days when you could barely stand up to meet him at the clearing outside your village made him want to curl up and burrow deep into the earth.

He didn’t want to sleep beside you only to awake to the sight of your chest still and your breaths nonexistent.

He didn’t want to watch you die again.

-

The choice was taken out of his hands when he returned to his town—your town, just as much as it is his—and found it burning.

“There’s a nearby village that needs your help. Go, Morax, lend your hand to those who need it,” you had told him as you caressed his scales, and he had obeyed, because while the elders and the people come to him with their pleas and their wishes, he will only ever answer to you.

It had been a trick to place his attention away from your town.

He learned what anger meant that day, learned what it felt to crush a house beneath his claws and how to move the earth to his will and what it meant to take a life.

He was young and furious and mourning. It is a dark memory he doesn’t like to dwell on, full of pain and regret and the vicious sense of satisfaction that came with killing. It was the first time he had ever shed blood. It wouldn’t be the last.

As he watched the village be buried beneath the earth and the stone he’d called upon, he turned his back and made the long trek back to a home that was now nothing but ash and dust.

And as he rooted through the rubble in the vain hope of finding your body to bury, Morax learned what it meant to be an unwilling participant in a war.

-

It was as if fate was paying back the abundance of time you’d spent with him in your first life with short moments that were always cut too soon.

In your third life, you found him sleeping on the remains of what was once your town. You had wept and embraced him as much as you could, and he, in turn, tried to convey how much he had missed you.

The two of you traveled together for a while, and that life was where you rode on his back for the first time as he soared the skies.

“They’re like your eyes,” you once said, holding onto his scales as he flew above the clouds, the light of the setting sun casting the two of you in molten gold, “Golden. It’s been my favorite color ever since I first saw you open your eyes. They always shine so bright.”

You died that same day, having encountered a vengeful deity after he set foot on the ground. He had won that fight, but he wasn’t able to protect you.

-

It was in a battlefield that he saw you again.

He remembers how the small deity’s blood had felt upon his tongue, dripping down sharp teeth and soaking the battle happening in the ground below with blood. It had been sunny then, he remembers, when he descended from the skies in triumph and looked down the masses gazing at him with fear.

And then there was you.

Blood and dirt and other unnamable things clung to you like a second skin as you clumsily held a spear close to your chest, but you had beamed at the sight of him and yelled out his name.

“Morax!”

It was short-lived.

It had been a stray arrow, they would later plead with tears and mud streaking through their terror-filled faces. But all he cared about at that time was that one moment you dropped your spear to run to him, and the next you were falling to the ground, an arrow lodged right where your heart lay.

He left that field bloodied with corpses, your body strewn on his back as he flew to the clearing in your first life. There, he buried you beside your other incarnations.

-

“I’d like to settle one day, once all the fighting and killing has stopped. Maybe in a house overlooking the sea. Somewhere surrounded by mountains. Just a place where there’d be lots of space for you too.”

You leaned against the bulk of his frame, burrowed in a cliffside to wait out the fight between two gods happening on the other side of the lake.

-

“That was never there before,” you said, squinting at the castle in the sky as you laid on his back.

He rumbled his agreement.

You sighed, hearing the war going on below and wondering when it was all going to end.

“The stars don’t shine as bright as they used to.”

-

“Are you alright?!” You yelled as you frantically helped the woman—a deity—up from the ground.

Morax’s thundering roars echoed in the air as he summoned pillars from the earth and shattered the feeble ice that the opposing god put up.

The woman stared at you with wide eyes, noticing how labored your breathing was but otherwise looking unbothered by the fight happening in front of you.

“Are you not worried…?” She asked, her voice sounding as delicate as she looked.

You turned to her with a grin you’d hoped was encouraging. “There’s nothing to fear, Morax is strong!” Then, you offered her your hand. “Here, you can hold my hand if you’re afraid.”

She accepted it, feeling the tremors in her fingers calm at the warmth emanating from your palm.

“Guizhong,” she suddenly said, looking up at you, her heart racing. “Forgive my rudeness but… my name is Guizhong.”

You smiled, as bright and lovely as Morax would have described had he been there to see it. “Allow us to lend you and your people a hand, Guizhong!”

And for the first time since the war began, she felt hope blossom in her chest.

-

“Which life is this now?” Guizhong asked him.

“Nineteenth,” he answered, more of a growl that resembled a word. Morax, in his newly obtained form, was still not used to the ways of mortals, namely, the fact that he can now speak his thoughts out loud.

You were conversing with Cloud Retainer, something regarding a weapon that could be used to help the war. The mechanics were lost to him. For all that he could now be considered a deity, for all that the people have started calling him Rex Lapis, he was still so oblivious to the ways of the world.

Guizhong placed a hand on his shoulder, a reassuring smile on her deceptively gentle face. On that day, she promised to help him protect you.

And that life was one of the few where he got to watch you grow old.

-

“You don’t know how to read?” Guizhong asked you, surprise coloring her face.

You sheepishly laughed, “I’ve never been taught in all the lives I’ve lived. And most of my time with Morax was spent fighting and running from the war.”

You looked down your hands, feeling the smooth, unblemished skin of them. Young and unscarred. There had been a large gash that ran across your back in your previous life, and when the night got too cold and you were left alone with your thoughts, you felt the ache of thousands upon thousands of wounds you’d collected throughout your lives.

A dainty hand covered your own. You looked up to see Guizhong watching you with a fond smile.

“Let me teach you, then.”

-

Guizhong always invited you to sing to the glaze lilies scattered around the Assembly. She claimed your voice was like a melody that soothed the flowers to bloom.

In truth, she only wanted to hear you sing.

-

“No, that’s not how you hold chopsticks, Morax!” You laughed, taking hold of his hand and rearranging the chopsticks haphazardly held in his fingers. “There, much better.”

His fingers remained clumsy, unused to such sensations, but you promised him that he’ll get used to it in no time.

-

You slowly guided him through each step, gently correcting a mistake in his footwork and adjusting the spear in his hand when needed.

Morax was a fast learner.

Soon, he would develop his own way of wielding the spear, but for now, you coached him through the right techniques and laughed whenever he dropped the spear in a spin.

-

“The moon,” he suddenly said, looking at you with wide, earnest eyes.

“Yes, what about it?”

He seemed to struggle with finding the right words to convey what he wanted to say. You patiently sat and waited for him to gather himself.

“It’s beautiful tonight.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Isn’t it?”

You tilted your head to the sky, a nostalgic smile on your lips, lost in memories of days spent lazing about in that old clearing and staring at the starry sky. “It is.”

His hand felt warm around yours.

-

“I don’t want to die anymore.”

He held you as your blood seeped from your clothes and painted the grass a dark shade of red. It was a slow process, bleeding out, to wait for your blood to drain until your heart stopped beating and your eyes lost the light in them.

“Morax.”

You were crying, clutching your side where a god had pierced their blade clean through. You were dying so slowly, yet there was no time to get a healer.

“Please.”

Your eyes begged for an end to this pain.

His tears fell and mixed with your blood.

On your twenty-ninth life, he cradled your head to his chest and wept as he gave you a quick, painless death.

-

When he saw you again, he held you until the sun disappeared and his arms felt numb before reluctantly pulling away.

You held his face between the palm of your hands and kissed his forehead, your eyes red and smile brittle at the edges.

“I’ve missed you,” was all you said before you leaned close.

Your lips felt impossibly soft against his.

-

“Morax,” you whispered against his skin, on your thirty-first life when he finally found the courage to show you what being loved by him meant. “I love you.”

It was the first time you spoke those words to him.

It wouldn’t be the last.

He kept you awake all night, ignoring the war happening around him and pretending, just for a moment, that the world only consisted of you and him.

-

During your forty-second life, an anomaly happened.

He and the rest of the adepti were unable to gauge how it happened. Guizhong, for all her smarts, was not able to discern the reason for it either.

And then there was no time to ponder upon it anymore, because Osial attacks the Guili Assembly, and not only does he lose you, he also loses a friend.

Her last words to him consisted of a riddle and a memento in the form of a lock. “I never stopped searching for a reason. I think… this may be it.”

And in her eyes, he saw a confession — she had loved you too.

Thousands of years later and he is still no closer to opening it, and thus, no closer to figuring out what caused the loss of your memories.

-

On some lives, you remember, eyes lighting up with recognition as you abandoned everything you’d been doing to run into his arms.

“Morax,” you would whisper as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.

On some lives, you would pass by him with blank eyes, the same lilt to your voice but without the fondness that came with it.

“Hello again,” he’d say.

You would smile awkwardly. “Hello?”

And he would mourn you all over again.

-

“He’s suffered enough, hasn’t he?”

Your words were enough to still Morax’s spear.

You knelt in front of the young-looking deity, offering your palm to him. “We will not shackle you, and neither will we force you to serve.”

His eyes were wary, yet so incredibly full of disbelief and hidden hope.

You gave him a smile you hoped was as gentle as it seemed.

Rough, battle-hardened hands clasped onto yours like a salvation.

“Please,” he whispered, something so undeniably broken in his tone as looked up at you the same way one might look up at the stars.

Later on, Morax would name that young deity Xiao.

-

There were tales and poems written about you. Rex Lapis and his undying lover.

It was widely romanticized and highly inaccurate. For one, he didn’t meet you in your first life as a large and intimidating dragon. He was naught but a hatchling you used to feed fruits and meat with a childish laugh. The two of you had grown up together, but where you had grown old, he remained young, a dragon who hadn’t even reached a fourth of his lifespan.

You always laughed as you read to him some of the more outlandish ones, in those lives where you remembered enough to love him as deeply as you used to.

“‘And they fornicated upon the moonlit night, a dragon and a mortal—’ I’m sorry, I can’t take this seriously.” You burst into a fit of giggles, leaning against him on your shared bed as the book you’d been holding fell to the side, forgotten.

“Shall I have a word with the authors of such books?”

“No, no!” You were quick to refuse, placing both palms on his cheeks and grinning. “They’re amusing to read. Perhaps I should commission a play, that would be so entertaining…”

He gazed at you fondly, cherishing each precious, limited time the two of you have.

-

When he ascended the throne of Celestia, you were the first person to greet him upon returning to Liyue.

There was a nervous edge to your smile, but still, it came as naturally as breathing to you. You often questioned it, how everything just seemed to come easily for you.

“I think I know you,” you once told him a week after you met in this life, “I just can’t remember where.”

And you would always come across the numerous retellings of your lives, hands shaking and so full of regret and grief for a life you could never quite recall.

You never failed to apologize to him after.

I’m sorry I forgot.

I’m sorry I can’t remember.

I’m sorry I don’t love you.

-

It became increasingly frequent with each century that passed. Only one incarnation of you every six lives remembered your past.

He made you love him in each one. Even if he had to start from the bottom, even when you looked at him without a spark of familiarity, even when it hurt—he never failed to capture your heart again and again.

-

The Cataclysm happened in a lifetime where you remembered.

Morax, to this day, wishes it hadn’t been the case. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t have insisted on fighting alongside him.

Perhaps then, you wouldn’t have died so early.

Your body was left beneath the rubble and ruins of Khaenri’ah’s Royal Palace. The only thing that stopped him from upturning it to search for you was the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles.

-

In the twentieth year after the destruction of Khaenri’ah, he made a contract with a golden haired traveler who carried the aura of the stars.

Five years after the contract was signed, your body was returned to Liyue in a casket covered with Inteyvat flowers.

-

He remembers waiting, and waiting, and waiting a little more until he looked up and realized that four hundred years had passed without you.

He searched each nation, visiting village upon village, hoping to hear news of you or a past life of yours having lived there, but there was nothing.

It was as if you had simply ceased to exist.

He refused to believe it.

-

Mountain Shaper advised him to rest.

It was strange to walk the streets of Liyue again after a hundred years of absence. He never failed to appear during the Rite of Descension, but taking on his draconic form and parading as a mortal man were two different things. And the latter, he found in all the years he’d been ruling Liyue, was much more preferable than the former.

Conversations flowed around him, and he wondered what you would have been doing had you been here with him.

He stared into the Harbor, smiling as he remembered your quiet musings during the early days of the Archon War.

I’d like to settle one day, once all the fighting and killing has stopped. Maybe in a house overlooking the sea. Somewhere surrounded by mountains. Just a place where there’d be lots of space for you too.

Settle.

It was a wishful thought, but…

He turned on his heel, mind made up.

If he couldn’t look for you, then he would have to wait for you to come to him. In the meantime, he would arrange the finest house for you to live in peace after five hundred years of being apart and a lifetime of war and bloodshed.

-

Morax—Zhongli sits at a table at Third-Round Knockout, leisurely sipping tea as he listens to the story teller regale the tragic tale of your second life. A little inaccurate, on a few accounts, but for the most part, it was as he remembers it.

The tea tastes exceptionally sweet today. A good omen, perhaps.

He feels the vibrations from the ground, telling of a person approaching him from behind. He lets whoever it is get close, unable to detect any malicious intent.

“That’s completely false. I, for one, never ‘wept in delight as I was reunited with my dragon lover’.”

He nearly drops his tea in shock.

He turns his head to the right, his heart in his throat as he hopes and begs that his ears did not deceive him. He sucks in a breath—

And meets the loveliest pair of eyes gazing down at him with mirth.

You smile.

“Hello again.”

Happy new years I am lonely and give soup

Soup !!

─── 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄

+ sae x f!reader | wc 4.9k | content: angst, fluff, some making out, implied sex, stupid teenager phase

notes: sobs this was not supposed to be this long … one of y’all need to stop me from writing about this man !! i love him too much, pls send help </3 extra: this is the song playing in the last scene :’)

summary: sae has few interests, and one of them is you. but sometimes, being special just isn’t enough.

you’ve always been special.

ever since age three when your family moved across the street from where the itoshis lived. ever since age five when you finally gathered the courage to talk to the pair of brothers. ever since age six when sae invited you to play with him and rin. ever since age seven when you cried because someone bullied you at the playground and sae wiped away your tears. ever since age ten when both of you played with paper rings. ever since age eleven when you and sae would talk endlessly at night through the phone and get nagged at by your parents when they found out.

ever since age twelve when you told sae you’d watch him become the best soccer player in the world by his side.

your presence bleeds into sae’s life and he can’t think about anything without relating it to you; like how his breakfast tastes like ass when you’re not smearing your stupid peanut butter on it because apparently peanut better goes well with everything is your phase at that point of time. like how he’s walking home and he’ll always have to crane his head to the right just to check if you’re on your front porch swing, because if you are, he’ll wave and then you’ll smile and wave back, and sae would feel like it’s a special code you two share.

you’re probably the only thing he pays his spare attention to. and rin. you, rin, soccer. that’s all.

you complain way too much, especially at the fact that sae doesn’t smile often. he counters, “that’s none of your business.”

and you tell him one day you’ll be the reason he smiles everyday.

sae thinks it’s kind of stupid though, because you already are. you just aren’t around to see it. he’ll probably never let you see it too. he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he did.

it isn’t long before you’re age fifteen and graduating middle school and you’re excited to start high school. it didn’t really make a difference for sae, as long as he got to play soccer, he really couldn’t care less.

when you’re age sixteen you tell sae that a boy from class broke your heart because he didn’t accept your valentines’ chocolates. it was as good as a rejection, apparently. or whatever girl code says it is.

frankly, sae’s just offended. you’ve never given him any valentines’ shit. all of a sudden some no name guy is getting it?

maybe it’s true what people say, teenage girls cry over stupid things they consider love that’s not actually love. now you’re getting his soccer jersey wet with your tears and you’re crooning on and on about how boys suck but somehow sae’s still the best.

you’re sixteen and crying on sae’s shoulder, while he’s seventeen and wishing he could torture the son of a bitch who made you cry.

this is the closest you’ve ever been, physically. your heart’s not really broken because whoever you’re crying about has never really had it. but sae doesn’t know that.

teenage girls make really stupid decisions sometimes. and other times, they making stupid passing comments, like when you say “glad i didn’t let him kiss me. would suck for my first kiss to be with a dick who didn’t give a shit about me.”

sometimes teenage boys make stupid decisions too.

sae doesn’t really know what possesses him to do this, but he doesn’t stop it. he doesn’t stop his hand from reaching out to you, doesn’t stop his fingers from tilting your chin up. there’s only confusion in your eyes when he looks into them. there’s only hesitation in his.

sae’s not anything to you except for a childhood friend, and you’re not anything to him, except for one of the most beautiful people he’s ever met. that’s why he does this slowly, so you have time to stop this.

he has no right to do this. he wishes you would just stop him.

you’re both teenagers when sae becomes your first kiss, when your tears stain his cheeks and he tastes like the fruits he just ate. you’re both delirious off of the feeling, like neither of you want this to end because your lips stay connected even when you’re not moving, and your lashes are fluttering against one another’s and sae really wants to kiss you again.

but it’s late and your parents are probably the ones knocking on his door right now so he stops himself and pulls away while rin bounds down the stairs to open the door.

sae sees nothing but you, you and your pretty face and your pretty lips and your perfect perfect person.

“there, now your first kiss is with a dick who does care about you.”

it’s that same summer and you’ve forgotten all about the stupid boy that supposedly broke your heart. you have sae with you whenever he’s free, when he decides to bring you out after practice and explore rooftops to find the best view for the fireworks.

you’re not together, but it sure feels like you are.

then it’s autumn and the leaves are turning orange and red, and you swear you see sae’s cheeks and ears turn nearly the same shade when he holds your hand for the first time as you walk through the park, a white cat crossing in front of you.

sae blames it on his practice earlier and that he’s tired because there’s no way he’ll ever admit it’s because of you.

when winter comes, sae’s still taking care of you. nothing stops him from playing soccer, but nothing can stop him from finding you either. sae’s starting to regret his decisions when you force him to go ice skating and look at him expectantly whenever you see a mistletoe.

you’re a lot of work, maybe you’re worth it.

and then you kiss him again and he thinks yes, maybe he can do this. he can juggle soccer and you, it’ll magically work out.

finally it’s spring and you’re excited because you love the cherry blossoms, and sae thinks maybe he loves something else but he’s not going to go there yet. and while everyone’s watching the solar eclipse that one night, sae’s watching you.

for once, he wants to believe in superstitions, wants to believe what watching the solar eclipse means.

“what’s the matter?”

you’re always so perceptive. you’d make a great playmaker, he feels.

of course you pick up on the tension, barely a minute after you walk into his room. sae doesn’t want to ruin this, whatever this is, whether it’s love or something less, or maybe something more.

but it’s not a democracy, and the answer is crystal clear in sae’s mind. his answer’s always been the same, but it’s not like you don’t exist in his world.

“the club in spain gave me an offer.”

that’s all he needs to say to make you understand. and if you weren’t the most understanding person he knows, you might’ve reacted differently, but you’re still the same supportive, kind girl he met at age four.

“when do you go?” your voice is shaky and he knows you’re trying to hold it together.

sae’s sorry, really.

“next month.”

it’s not a lot of time, but probably enough to say goodbye. then you throw your arms around him and you work your magic, you say you want to try despite the distance, despite the unknown timeline. and who is sae if not someone who’d give it a try?

he’s not even sure he can ever say no to you.

it doesn’t seem real until the night before he leaves, because you’re eighteen and standing in his near barren room, everything already packed into boxes and loaded.

maybe it’s the fact he’ll be gone for a very long time, doesn’t know when he’ll see you again. maybe it’s the adrenaline rushing through his veins when he feels you pressed up against him. maybe it’s the fact he’s denying the depth of his feelings for you and it’s getting him frustrated.

or maybe it’s because he’s selfish and he doesn’t want anyone else to have you, just like how he gave you your first kiss.

he’s your first kiss, and he’ll be your first time, with your hands clawing at his clothes. and you’ll be his, with the way he’s grabbing onto your bare back so desperately.

you’re eighteen and you think nothing’s prettier than the sounds sae makes, especially when his lips are right next to your ear, with his hot breath fanning against you.

sae’s nineteen and he thinks you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted, in all sense of the word. he thinks you look pretty in pink, still pretty when you wear nothing too.

and suddenly sae thinks that maybe it doesn’t feel so crazy to think that the both of you might make it through this.

long distance can work for some people. but sometimes it’s just meant to drive two people further away.

sae’s gaining momentum in europe, and you’re proud of him. you’re proud of your boyfriend, doing his best and showing off his talents and having his hard work pay off.

you’re really, genuinely happy for him. but the bigger of a star he is, the further away he feels, and maybe it’s selfish of you to want him here, to want him to be just your neighbour itoshi sae like how things started out.

maybe it’s selfish and wishful thinking, but you can’t help yourself.

sometimes sae doesn’t even have time to look at his phone. he’s tired and overwhelmed and understandably too. and you feel guilty everytime you subject him to your insecurities.

but you’re nineteen and you don’t know better.

rin’s not much fun to hang around with, especially when he got more stoic and awkward. he’s like a mirror of his brother, and that may fool a lot of people, except you knew him before that. but you’re not going to butt your head in things that don’t concern you, so you leave him be.

and suddenly the itoshis seem further away than they’ve ever been. for the first time in your life, you’re not sure if trying will be enough anymore.

sae misses you. that’s whenever he has the free time to think, when he’s not hounded by trainings after trainings, when he’s not busy from day to night with whatever new training regime they’ve got him on.

is he aware that he’s probably being the world’s worst boyfriend now? yes. but sae can’t force himself to choose that over his dreams. can’t force himself not to choose soccer.

[17:08] she’s fine, idk what you’re worried about.

rin’s message doesn’t alleviate his worries. sae knows you better than anyone, and he doesn’t believe you’re fine.

[08:08] hey sae :)

[17:34] going to bed now, gn!! &lt;3

sae stares at your message for a while in the locker room, while everyone else is showering. you’ve cooled off on the pet names, you’re worried you’re overstepping. you’re worried he’s lost his feelings.

he’s not.

he’d be crazy to.

but he can’t find the energy to convince himself that this would turn out fine. he can’t convince himself that he’s not hurting you every single day by not being able to be everything you need, by not being able to be physically there for you.

this half-assed relationship isn’t what you deserve. and where he is right now, with his bird’s eye view of the world, he doesn’t know if he can ever give you anything else.

[17:49] goodnight. call you tomorrow.

the moment sae breaks up with you, you feel like that kid at sixteen all over again, except this time you don’t have your favourite person’s shoulder to cry on and this time it’s actually love.

all you can think of when you hear him pick up the phone is that morning right before he left for the airport, how his hair’s a mess and how his lashes are way too pretty and how he sounded when he’s all groggy and tired.

but then he tells you the one thing you do not want to hear, and the illusion is shattered into pieces.

“this isn’t working out.”

“what are you talking about?” he’s silent, and you’re anxious. “we’re fine, sae.”

you can hear him sighing over the phone. you so desperately want to fix this, and so does sae but he can’t think of anything more selfish than to ask you to wait for him until he’s ready—he knows what’s the right thing to do. it sucks, but he’s made up his mind.

“that’s bullshit, y/n,” he responds, calmly, and you feel him slipping further and further from you.

“i- look, i-i know it’s hard but we can—”

“give it a break, woman,” sae chuckles, low and deep, and you’re beginning to doubt that you know him at all right now. “we’re done.”

the dial tone is all you can hear after that.

twenty years old is where you have your first actual heartbreak.

and all that talk about how time heals all feels like bullshit when you’re right in the middle of it all. five days in and you’re still a wreck. twenty days later and you’re still staring at the pictures you and sae took together. a month passes and you’re visiting the places you went to together. just a sad, pathetic girl crying on the benches, reliving what she once had.

three months later you’re still watching his matches on tv. you’re still cheering for him inside. four months later and it’s sae’s birthday and he doesn’t even respond to your birthday message. half a year after the breakup and you finally stop crying when you think of him.

but it’s easy to delude yourself when you’re not in the presence of what you grieve. because eight months after you broke up, you see reports that sae’s dating a sports photographer. the next few days, a picture is released of them kissing in a restaurant.

then you get glimpses of other girls being able to be intimate with him. other girls getting to taste his lips and feel his love. other girls getting his attention when that right used to solely belong to you.

and you’ve never felt worse.

“why so glum?”

sae blinks at the woman, indifferent. he can’t even remember her name.

“nadia,” she says, like she’s reading his goddamn mind, holding her hand out. “i’ve been your team’s photographer for a few months now.”

sae shakes her hand out of courtesy because he really doesn’t want his publicist to chew him out again. “didn’t ask.”

“you know, you’re a lot more crabby these days,” she comments, and it’s like he can see the lightbulb going off in her head. “oh, is it girlfriend issues?”

“i don’t have one, so shut it.”

“come on, i promise i’m good at making people forget.” she says this so seductively that sae’s a little disturbed. he just wants to get this shoot done with and go home, maybe even check up on you a little. all in incognito mode, of course, because he can’t risk you knowing he still cares. can’t risk getting your hopes up.

somehow the stars have spent all their time aligning sae’s soccer career and everything else is in tatters because his publicist forces him to take nadia up on her offer and go out with her.

what was supposed to be a one time thing turned out to be something more. she wasn’t even close to you, but she could be close. turns out when he’s not being such a dick, nadia can be moderately interesting.

different, maybe that’s what he needs.

he thinks back to when she kissed him on their first date. sae still finds himself hoping you didn’t see that.

but no, he’s not in love with you anymore. sae’s officially an adult at twenty-one and he’s still the same stubborn guy in denial because he’s looking at pictures of you while nadia’s sitting right next to him.

it’s not healthy, it really isn’t.

you’re twenty-one now and you’re actually going on a date with the sole intention of trying to get over the one and only itoshi sae.

can you even trust your friend? all you know is that the guy is a friend of a best friend’s and that’s all she told you.

“my best friend’s a good guy, so by extension, so is his best friend,” was all she said.

now you’re here, at the amusement park, waiting for your date to show himself because apparently, in your friend’s bid for suspense, she was reluctant to share anything about him except that he’s dreamy and pretty and that his friend describes him as a genius.

and also “oh, he’s a soccer player too so that’s right up your alley, right?”

when the call from date guy comes in (because to stop you from profiling your date she also didn’t give you his name), you kind of like his voice.

“hey, where are you?”

you find out his name is nagi. and that he’s only here because reo stole his switch and he won’t give it back until the date’s over. which kind of works because you tell him you’re only here because you wanted to get over someone.

to which he says it’s a hassle.

there’s nothing you expect out of this, but then you find yourself enjoying your date.

it’s clear by the first fifteen minutes why nagi chose this place to meet. he’s absurdly good at games. he’s won you tons of plushies that you had to give away to some very happy kids. it’s a pattern; every game that he doesn’t know, he only loses once and then he proceeds to dominate.

no wonder his friend calls him a genius.

with nagi it’s easy, fluid. you’ve been spending the whole night there with him, playing together and eating together—well, mostly it’s just you feeding nagi because it turns out he finds a lot of things a hassle.

three days later, you find out that apparently you’re not a hassle in his books. not really, because he asks you out again.

it’s irrational.

sae shouldn’t be this bothered, but he is. he hates seeing your stupid updates about how you’re on a date with this nagi guy. he hates seeing your posts with the two of you wearing matching sweaters for christmas.

he gives it a like.

nadia’s already gone. sae doesn’t have time or energy to waste on people that don’t matter. and you shouldn’t matter. not right now. but here he is, wishing the circumstances were different.

if you and nadia switched places. if you had something to bring you to spain. it’s fucking selfish, he knows. doesn’t stop him from wishing for it. he can’t think of anyone else like how he thinks of you. doesn’t want to.

he really is clueless about everything outside of soccer, because he’s twenty-two when he realises that no one could ever make him forget about you, and maybe he should just live with it.

sae turns twenty-three when he’s in the running for being the world’s best midfielder. he’s gotten rid of the hopes of moving on and he’ll just fake it till he makes it.

maybe that’s why this year is particularly special to him. or maybe it’s because for the first time in a long while, you wish him happy birthday.

at midnight, in japan. because you’re thoughtful that way.

this time he responds.

thanks. how r u?

it’s criminal how easy it is for you to get his heart beating like this. he sees you typing and it’s enough to lift his mood.

great, school’s kicking my ass though.

sae finds himself wishing that he could hear your voice right now. for some stupidly non-complex reason that he finds completely absurd.

i saw your match last week, good game, genius.

fuck. after all this time, he still wants you.

his fingers type i miss you, just for the hell of it. just to see it there on his screen before he inevitably deletes it and replaces it with something mediocre like thanks or i know.

because he can’t just say that after being the one who broke things off. he can’t do that when he still thinks it won’t work out.

all he does is sigh and hit the delete button—except fuck, he accidentally hit send. and he would’ve deleted it if you weren’t already online and read it and he sees you typing for a moment before you stop completely and go offline.

sae has never felt more numb.

it’s been three months since sae said he missed you. you still can’t get that out of your head. the most upfront he’s been about his feelings and he chooses then of all times to be honest?

when your boyfriend was right beside you?

maybe it was your fault. you didn’t even know why you wished him a happy birthday. maybe you missed him too and was just lying to yourself.

god, maybe you’re the asshole in this after all. did you really love nagi? or was he just exceptionally well at making you forget? you really really like him, that’s all you know.

“hey, what’s wrong?” nagi’s looking at you, pushing his hair back, and you can’t help but think you’re lucky to have him these past few months.

but the turmoil inside you wins, and maybe you understand a little bit of how sae felt that night when he broke up with you.

it’s not fair to nagi for you to do this, but it’s not fair to him either to keep him around.

“we need to talk.”

it’s a surreal feeling, to be back in japan.

sae was nineteen when he left. now he’s twenty-seven when he breathes the tokyo air again. he lugs around his carry-on baggage because he’s not staying here for long. not yet. he’s coming back soon, and he doesn’t really know why. he’s milked everything he could from spain, from the rest of europe, some of the americas, and maybe he’s homesick now.

plain and simple.

the cab driver asks him why he looks so sharp, and he simply says, “wedding.”

it’s been seven years since he broke up with you. and your grip on him is as firm as ever. a grip he’ll never let you know you have on him because he’s made this mistake before—said i miss you and then scared you away.

by the next day he couldn’t even find you online because everything is wiped and maybe you hate him, hate his guts. that’s fine. he can live with that.

to him, you’re still the same lovable person as you were at age five. still the same girl at age sixteen that he fell in love with. you’re still his person and it’s fine if he has to just admire you from afar.

when he arrives, he takes a long hard look around the room, filled with guests socialising and drinking their wines and it’s so pathetic but he’s wondering if you’re still around. he’s late, and it’s his plane’s fault but it’s no use playing the blame game.

“hey,” rin calls out when he sees his brother. “you missed the ceremony.”

“yeah, stupid plane got delayed,” sae says, mind still distracted.

rin formally introduces his new wife to sae and she seems nice, polite, the kind that can put his brother in his place if she needs to. that’s nice. sae can’t help envisioning you in the wedding dress though. you’d look nice.

nicer if he was the one beside you.

“oh! as a gift to my now brother-in-law, i have a friend i want to set you up with,” she grins, and as much of an ass that sae is, he just figures he’ll reject the poor girl later. for now, he’ll entertain his new sister-in-law.

rin claps him on the shoulder before smirking and walking off, presumably to get a drink because no matter how much rin has changed, sae doubts he’ll ever become friendly enough to mingle in this crowd.

sae feels someone poking his shoulder and turns around, first to find his sister-in-law grinning from ear to ear, and next to find you next to her, just like he remembers.

pretty in pink, stupid bashful smile, still fucking beautiful.

“have fun,” rin’s wife says before she walks off with a knowing look. she’s already winning points with sae for bringing you to him.

“hey, genius,” you try to suppress your smile but it’s not working.

he thinks he’s dreaming. he’s not. he’s here. and so are you. and this might just be what he missed all this time.

you hold your hand out and he takes it wordlessly, obediently. sae follows you to the dance floor, trying to calm his erratic heartbeats, savouring the feeling of your hand in his once again, remembering that moment back in autumn when he first felt it.

when you wrap your hands around his neck and he wraps his around your waist, it feels like finally, something is real. like there’s something in this country that can really keep him here this time. because now he’s twenty-seven and he finally understands, he’s always loved you but he’s never been ready until now.

“can’t believe you let your brother get married before you,” you say, sarcasm because you’re breaking into a grin. “he actually beat you at something.”

sae pouts slightly, averting his gaze. “what’s the big deal anyway?”

you shrug. “i’d have thought you’d be the first. maybe with one of the girls you met abroad or something.”

there’s a certain bitterness in your tone that he likes, only because it means you minded all this time. the thought of him with someone else. he suddenly remembers something, and searches the room for a familiar face.

gray eyes meet his teal ones before they turn away, disinterested.

“you sure your boyfriend won’t mind you dancing with your ex?”

“probably not, since i don’t have one.” you smirk, sensing the bitterness in his tone too. it’s funny, seeing sae jealous like this.

he has no reason to though, since you broke up with nagi after being honest with yourself—that you’re not over sae and you probably never will be. you’d decided to just live with your decision.

“shame. thought you guys looked cute in those matching sweaters.”

so that was a jealous like, you think to yourself.

“thought you looked cute with that sports photographer girl too, kissing and all,” you say, though it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “why didn’t that work out?”

for the first time in his life, sae decides to be outright honest with you—

“because she’s not you.” because everytime she said his name, he’d overlay it with your voice in his head. because everytime she’d tried to get close, he’d resent her more for not being you. because no matter how hard anyone tries, they will never be you and that will never work, not for sae.

—to a certain degree.

he’s twenty-seven when he’s finally old enough to understand that it was never a problem with feelings because he’s always loved you all the same all this time. it was just a matter of being ready at the right time. it’s like luck in the world of soccer, where coincidences can only fall to those who are prepared.

and he’s here now. he’s ready.

call him crazy for thinking you’re on the same page because you’re getting closer and closer and closer.

“itoshi sae,” you whisper his name against his lips and he’s reminded of the first time he had you. you drive him crazy and he thinks he’ll keep on letting you. “i missed you too.”

you did. you used to be too young and inexperienced to put yourself in sae’s shoes. too young and naive thinking emotions were enough for two people to stay. sometimes, some things just aren’t meant to be… in the moment. and other times, when you’re both ready, everything suddenly falls into place.

you were sixteen when sae first kissed you. now ten years later, ten years wiser, you kiss again, and this feels significantly better than before. because now you both know.

sae has known you ever since you were three. and he thinks he’ll keep on knowing you, every day, every hour, every minute. he wants to know you forever. and he’s thinking maybe that superstition worked out after all. maybe it was destined to be like this all along.

two people coming together and falling apart only to end up in each other’s arms.

and he thinks fuck superstition, fuck the white cats and solar eclipses and everything else. even if things threaten not to work, this time he’ll make it work.

sae’s known you for so long he overlooked one simple thing. when he kisses you even deeper and is greeted with your lips smiling against his, he knows.

he hasn’t become the world’s best soccer player yet, but when he does, you’ll be by his side.

one day those paper rings the both of you played with when you were little would be real.

you’ve always been special, and you always will be.

now he’s finally home.

❥ 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 ↳ 𝐰/ 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 & 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Messy, honey Trippin' on cracks in the concrete You're so clumsy Got me thinkin' maybe you like me

➸ you leave a bad review about Onigiri Miya on your food blog. Osamu is a little annoyed about it but mostly worried why you cried so much in your food across of him at the counter.

♫ 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄 Good Boy Daisy - Shag Chateau

✰ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 & 𝐂𝐖 (updated as the story progresses) meet ugly (my beloved!!), slow burn, enemies to lover vibes but not full on (they don’t hate each other, they are just a little messy and confused), SFW but will have some mention of alcohol and sex at some point, descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks (chapters will have an additional warning at the beginning), a lot of food mention obviously, mention of various pairings (Yukie/Konoha, Matsuhana, Bokuaka)

❦ 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐒 real housewives of Y/N ❁ boyish whimsy

❉ 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐗 prologue: dog tags chapter 1 (coming soon) tbc.

a/n: this is my first SMAU ever and i'm not entirely sure what i am doing but when has this ever held me back? it's actually based on a drabble i wrote the other day. it might also be the most self-indulgent thing i have written to a point where it feels semi-autobiographical? just wait until the whole food blogging and culinary school lore drops oop if you enjoyed this, i would LOVE hearing your thoughts as the story moves on! ♡

those words you spoke to me — i. sae

"i'm done waiting" + "i think i'm in love with you" + "don't look at me that way" + unrequited love

synopsis. you were always staring at itoshi sae's back. he was forever chasing something greater, not once turning around to see that look in your eyes.

wc. ~1.2k

— for @verysium i hope this is enough angst for you... | event masterlist ✉️

Hell comes in the form of Itoshi Sae.

He's too pretty for his own good, handsome and impossibly solid. He has this expression, too—cold and calculating, easy to admire so long as you aren't on the receiving end of his scrutinizing eyes.

Sae is a wonder of the world, a whirlwind of talent and fame and witty remarks and everything in between. He's the entirety of the word football, syllable to syllable, playing as if he were damned to do so. As if he were only ever born to decimate a soccer field. As if the universe had swallowed up the meaning of anything else in his heart long before he was even born.

Hell comes in the form of Itoshi Sae.

Your next door neighbour. The one who smacks you behind the head when you're being impolite to your elders. The one who makes sure your legs are properly tucked under the kotatsu so nonchalantly, as if he's incapable of telling you he cares any other way.

You're confident that he's this beautiful in every other life, in every reincarnation, in every world. That perfection could only possibly exist simmering in his soul.

Teal eyes that blink at you in confusion and annoyance, yet have an unmistakable fondness hidden beneath the stormy waters of his irises; soft hair slicked back because he couldn't be bothered to deal with his bed head; lashes that hug his waterline—you're not sure you'll witness raw beauty like this again in your lifetime.

Hell comes in the form of Itoshi Sae. You know that much for sure.

If you ever lost your memory you're certain you would know him still: the feeling of his back against you as he shields you from his screaming brother, the smell of his cologne permanently dancing under your nose. You would know the expanse of his skin, every light freckle on his nose, the firmness of his chest beneath your palms.

Hell comes in the form of Itoshi Sae. You could crumble to your knees and tell him everything—the love you harbour for him, the way he has devoured your heart. But truth be told, he's the devil. He could never love you back—not in this life. Not in any other.

You knew that. So why are you still standing on his front porch in the middle of the night?

"I'm in love with you."

He stares at you absently from his door, hand gripping the handle so tight that his knuckles are turning white.

"That's not funny," he scoffs.

"It's not a joke."

His gaze sharpens into a glare, head tilting back almost as if he's looking down on you. It's a foreign feeling, one that you'd witnessed a million and one times before but never felt for yourself—to be unwanted by Sae. To be without meaning.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" He hisses. It appears that he's bubbling with emotion, but you can't figure out which ones. "I'm supposed to get on this plane in eight hours."

Ah, Spain. He was leaving and you'd never be able to stop him if you tried. If you did, you're positive that he would rip through you like a bullet with no remorse.

"I love you," you repeat. He falters, eyes roaming your expression to try and understand what the hell you're doing.

What are you doing? You have to wonder that for yourself.

You were always staring at Sae's back. He was the one who stood between you and Rin when you fought, protecting you from his temperamental little brother despite thinking you were both being idiots. He was the one who sat in front of you in class, passing his eraser whenever you kicked the back of his chair. He was the one on the other end of the field, attacking enemy territories while you were left behind in the bleachers.

He was forever chasing something greater, not once turning around to see that look in your eyes. He was born to be more than a lover, a friend, a companion. Itoshi Sae was destined for perfection, to be out of reach despite being so close.

But you'd mistaken his rotten kindness for love too many years ago to take it back, never able to undo the knots he had tied in your stomach.

You wanted to be selfish, just this once. You wanted to be seen, to know that he knows. You've waited long enough.

If Sae was born to play football, you're sure you were only ever born into this world to chase after him. To love him so much that it ate your flesh.

"I just had to tell you. At least once in my life, I had to."

"Stop looking at me like that—"

"I've always loved you."

"—it's pathetic."

Silence fills the air and you suddenly become hyper aware of how many tears have gathered in the corners of your eyes; the heat of your sorrow streaming down your face.

For a moment, he hesitates. There's that familiar fondness glimmering in his gaze, soft and reserved for you. His childhood friend—the one who kept losing all his erasers and the one whose voice he could hear cheering for him from all the way down the field.

Then it melts away, and he looks at you with utter indifference. You think that he's unfairly good at hiding his thoughts behind a mask of apathy.

"I don't know what you want me to say," he whispers.

I want you to love me back. "You don't have to say anything."

He looks at you for a long time, just staring. There's conflict swimming in every part of his expression, lips parting then shutting again as if he can't decide how to respond.

"I think you should leave."

You blink at him, at the bluntness of his words. You've witnessed this before; the way he so easily pushes others away when he feels too vulnerable. To be loved is to be seen, to be known, and Sae wants none of that.

"If that's what you want."

Some part of you deep down knows that it's not what he wants. That there are words unspoken tangled up in his throat. But his apprehension is enough, telling you that his heart is devoid of space for another human even if he wished for it to be different.

"It is," he strains out, lying through his teeth. "I don't love you that way. You're like a sibling—"

"Don't do that," you interrupt, drawing away from him. "Just break my heart, please."

"I don't love you." And he leaves it at that.

Hell comes in the form of Itoshi Sae. It's a notion that follows you as you walk down the driveway toward your stalled car, left running because deep down you already knew his answer.

The beauty of his forbidden paradise drives you to turn around, too, and just like every other time his back is turned to you. His hand rests on the handle of his door, yet his body is frozen in place. You wait for a moment, eyes cast over your shoulder to see if he'll turn around and finally look your way.

He doesn't.

(You've driven off by the time he comes back outside, watching the back of your car pull away into the fog.

He's done the right thing, he thinks. He could never stand watching you cry.)

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

JAMILLLL

IN EVERY LIFETIME !

j. viper x reader smau

synopsis: y/n was shoved into a world where they would have to play the therapist. but when someone adamantly refuses to be helped, even while being friends, the only question that remains is why? the best way to find the reason is to look for it, all while harboring a secret crush on both ends.

genre: smau, slowburn, idiots to lovers (idiots in the sense that neither believes their own feelings are there), angst, crack, fluff.

warnings: a lot of cursing.

note: listen. there are no jamil smaus and i decided to make one myself. also there are many chapters bc it forces me to actually do a slowburn so LMAOOOO yay! tbh though, do not be surprised if i delete some chapters in case it feels like i have nothing to write for that chapter. comment here or in any chapter, send an ask, or dm me to be added to the taglist!

Keep reading

something there

— itoshi s. x beauty and the beast

entry one of “someday, my prince will come”

“be still!” you snarled at the magenta furred beast. “tch..!” sae scoffed. his large paw shuddered in your grasp as you slowly pulled out the thorn. “it wouldn’t hurt to be more gentle with it…” he groaned in pain. oh, god everything felt like agony.

“you wouldn’t be in pain if you hadn’t gone to save me. i’m not some damsel in distress.” you sarcastically pointed out, much to sae’s laughter. “uhuh, so you were fine defending yourself from that pack of wolves?”

you glare at him for his comment, and quickly rip the thorn out. “ow..! sh— uugh… what was that for..?” he pouted, his other paw quickly moving to massage the pained one. “that’s for being a sarcastic jerk. now go rest up, prince.” you teased.

sae scowled at the nickname. “don’t call me that.” he softly pushed at your waist. “eeehhh, right, right… just… rest already, sae.” you sigh, standing up. this place… wasn’t so bad now that you think about it. but you miss your father. how could you not?

sae nods, acknowledging your order. geez… one thing sae itoshi really didn’t mess with was his health. he’d put away his ego to follow a physician’s orders. “ah, and,” you started.

“…thanks for saving me. —i guess… i might’ve really died if you hadn’t save me.”

your eyes avoided his, bottom lip in a pout. you’re not really used to relying on other’s to save you. or, maybe it’s more so that you never needed to be saved. it’s not everyday that wolves show up in the province anyways.

“…yeah, sure. i was just… worried when i heard you decided to run away.” he admits, his voice faltering. “you wouldn’t believe how dangerous these woods have gotten in just a decade.”

“…do you just go around patrolling the woods like some guard?” you stifle a laugh. the beast can only deadpan at you. “do you think i just stay in my palace all day? i still need to exercise.” he scoffs.

“temper.” the candlestick known as aiku warns. “remember, be nice.” he smiles.

the next few days are… surprisingly pleasant. as sae recovers from his scars, you’ve consistently been tending to his wounds as well as making decent company. decent, since you’re the only company he’s had in a while.

“can you walk?” your arm supports his lower back as the two of you walk in the snow. “i—i’m fine. i’m not some grandmother with arthritis, i’m only 20.” he huffs, that once cold look in his eyes much more gentle.

“hah! only 20? you might as well be a grandpa!” you tease, much to sae’s dismay. “so what? you’re probably turning 20 in a couple months. who’s gonna be the old geezer now?” he raised an eyebrow. his breath visible in the air as a white cloud.

“…you. it’s always gonna be you, oldie.” you grinned, throwing a snowball suddenly in his direction.

the snow fell off his face, some of it melting and being absorbed into his magenta fur from his pure body heat.

sae frowned, unamused, as his large dug to gather the largest snowball he could manage to create. “i’m going to destroy you.” he muttered, aiming in your direction.

“sae—! don’t! i have so much to live for!” you laughed as you ran away from him, hiding behind a tree. “come back here… i’m gonna teach you a lesson..!” he ran, following your each and every move.

the two of you played as if two little children. the kingdom’s unfavored, blunt prince, and the oddball daughter of a kooky mechanic from a quaint village. who would have thought that they’d make such a dynamic duo?

some might even call them a power couple..?

“ah! just a few more days, and we’ll be human again!” the miniature grandfather’s clock cheered. “oh yeah? what makes you so sure, sendou?” aiku hummed, looking down at the sight in the courtyard.

“what makes me sure? why, the master hasn’t ever done this! she’s made him different!” he exasperatedly exclaimed, going on a tangent about how he’s going to woo the maid’s staff once again using the boyish charm he had lost.

aiku nodded, seeing the look in sae’s eyes. the same look the young master had when he had proclaimed to become the best king in the world as a child; the look of hope. however this time, it runs deeper. how sae lets you guide his paw as he relearns how to use a quill. it was something he was too prideful to even let his childhood tutors do.

“hmm… maybe you’re right, sendou. there might be something there that wasn’t there before.”