ᥫ᭡ TAKING CARE OF THEM WHEN THEY’RE SICK / Ayato, Childe, Diluc, Jing Yuan, Dr. Ratio, Aventurine

keep thinking about baby malleus reveal,,, sof, ,,

Hold the baby like borger

OMG! I absolutely love you for the way you did my request of Mydei trying to court reader ❤️😭🙏

It was so silly and perfect and i couldn't stop laughing!!!

And now theres part 2???

youre a blessing dear author 🫶

I'm glad you enjoy it, I had a lot of fun writing this ♡

Here's a part 3 ♡

Mydei x (fem)reader

Mydei courting reader (3)

Part 2

The streets of Okhema had grown quieter as the evening settled in, the sky painted in soft shades of purple and orange. The laughter of the children had faded, leaving only the distant murmur of the marketplace and the occasional chatter of passersby.

Y/N and Mydei walked side by side, their pace slow, unhurried. The excitement from earlier had died down, and now, a strange silence stretched between them.

For once, Mydei wasn’t speaking.

He wasn’t teasing her for losing, wasn’t boasting about his victory, wasn’t smirking at her like he usually did after getting the upper hand.

Instead, he was quiet.

It was… strange.

She kept sneaking glances at him, her fingers fidgeting at her sides. He was staring straight ahead, his usual sharp gaze slightly unfocused, as if deep in thought.

The memory of what happened just minutes ago replayed in her head—the chase, the cheers, the kids yelling about a reward, and then…

The kiss.

Her cheeks warmed just thinking about it.

She didn’t even know why she did it. It just felt like the right thing to do. Mydei had looked so composed, as if he hadn’t been flustered at all, and for some reason, that had annoyed her. So she acted on impulse, tugged him down, and kissed his cheek.

And then he turned bright red.

Just the thought of it made her lips twitch, but at the same time, guilt crept in.

She sighed quietly, lowering her gaze.

“…Sorry.”

The word slipped out so softly, she wasn’t sure he even heard it.

But then—

He stopped.

Y/N felt it immediately—the shift in the air, the sudden lack of movement beside her. She turned, only to see Mydei standing still, brows furrowed, watching her with open confusion.

“…What?” His voice was quieter than usual.

She hesitated before meeting his gaze. “I said… I’m sorry.”

His frown deepened. “For what?”

“For… earlier.” She shifted on her feet. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was probably weird, and I—I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just—”

“Why are you apologizing?”

She blinked at the sharpness of his tone.

Mydei was still staring at her, golden eyes unreadable, but there was something frustrated in the way he looked at her. Like he didn’t understand why she would even say that.

Y/N bit her lip, suddenly feeling awkward. “…Because it was kind of unfair? You didn’t really get a say in it.”

At that, Mydei let out a breath—one of incredulity.

“You think I didn’t want that?”

Y/N’s breath hitched.

The words were quiet. Almost grumbled. As if he hadn’t even meant to say them out loud.

But she heard them.

Clearly.

Her lips parted slightly, her brain short-circuiting for a second. “…What?”

Mydei’s expression stiffened, and he immediately looked away, crossing his arms. “Forget it.”

“No, hold on, what did you just say?”

“Forget it, Y/N.”

“I will not.”

“Tch.”

He turned on his heel and started walking again, this time at a slightly faster pace.

Y/N scrambled to keep up, her heart hammering, the heat rising to her cheeks again.

Did she just—

Did she mishear him?

Or did he really just say—

No. No way.

…Right?

Y/N hurried after Mydei, her heart pounding in her chest. He was not getting away that easily.

Before he could take another step, she quickly moved in front of him, blocking his path.

He stopped abruptly, barely avoiding bumping into her. “Move.”

“No.” She crossed her arms, standing her ground.

His golden eyes narrowed. “Y/N.”

“Mydei.” She mimicked his tone, unwavering. “We’re talking about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You just said something that completely contradicts the way you act, and you expect me to just ignore it?” She scoffed. “No way. You’re going to explain what you meant.”

“Tch.” Mydei’s jaw clenched, and his gaze flickered away for a moment. His entire posture screamed tense, his arms crossed so tightly it looked like he was physically keeping himself from reaching for something—maybe a sword, maybe just a distraction.

Y/N took a step closer, searching his face.

“…Mydei.”

His eyes snapped back to hers.

“I don’t get you,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “One second, you’re messing with me, the next, you’re ignoring me, and now you’re—” She exhaled in frustration. “Now you’re saying things like that, and you won’t even explain what you mean.”

Mydei stared at her, unmoving.

For a moment, Y/N thought he was just going to shut down entirely, to brush her off and push past her.

But then—

“…You really don’t get it, do you?”

His voice was quiet. Almost amused, but not in a mocking way. More like he was baffled.

Y/N frowned. “Get what?”

His golden eyes studied her face—searching, considering. Then, finally, he exhaled.

“I like you, Y/N.”

Silence.

Y/N blinked, not entirely sure she heard him right. “…What?”

His lips pressed together, then curved into a smirk, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re not gonna make me say it twice.”

Her brain short-circuited.

Wait. Wait, wait, wait.

He—

He what?

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Her thoughts felt scrambled, like someone had just thrown all the pieces of a puzzle onto the floor and expected her to figure it out in five seconds.

Mydei liked her?

Like—liked her?

She must’ve looked as dumbfounded as she felt because Mydei let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

Y/N snapped out of it. “Hold on.”

“What.”

“How—” She ran a hand through her hair, still trying to process. “Since when?”

His gaze flickered to the side, and for the first time, he was the one looking unsure. “…A while.”

Oh.

She swallowed. “And you—” Her voice faltered slightly. “You were trying to tell me?”

He scoffed. “Tch. I was showing you.”

Y/N opened her mouth, then closed it.

All the moments over the past few weeks flashed in her mind—his sparring matches with her, his gifts, the way he lingered around her, his small but rare smiles, everything.

Oh.

Oh.

Her face burned. “I—I didn’t—”

“Yeah. I figured,” he muttered.

She groaned, covering her face for a second. “I thought you were just—y’know, being you!”

He gave her a look. “I don’t do this kind of shit for just anyone.”

She peeked at him through her fingers, and oh gods, he was serious.

Oh.

Y/N lowered her hands, her heart hammering in her chest. “And… you’re not joking?”

His expression darkened. “You think I’d joke about this?”

…No. No, he wouldn’t.

The realization hit her like a wave.

This whole time—this whole time—he had been trying to tell her. And she—she had been too oblivious to see it.

Y/N let out a breath, her pulse racing. She met his gaze, something twisting in her chest.

“…Oh.”

Mydei stared at her for a moment. Then he scoffed. “Yeah. Oh.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her mind spinning as she stared at Mydei.

The weight of everything that had just been said pressed down on her chest, making her feel both incredibly stupid and incredibly overwhelmed. She had been blind—completely and utterly blind.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides. “…I’m sorry.”

Mydei’s brows furrowed. “For what?”

“For not noticing.” She exhaled shakily, looking down at the ground. “For making you go through all that trouble just to get me to see something that should’ve been obvious.”

“Tch.” Mydei’s lips pressed together, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t need to apologize for that.”

She scoffed. “You literally had to chase me through half of Okhema before I even started putting the pieces together—”

“That’s not your fault.”

She looked up at him. He was staring at her, expression firm—certain.

“…Then whose fault is it?” she asked quietly.

He sighed, crossing his arms. “Mine.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I should’ve just said something sooner.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Instead of relying on Kremnoan traditions that clearly mean nothing to you.”

Y/N frowned. “That’s not—”

“I kept thinking, ‘she’ll get it eventually.’” His voice was low, almost frustrated—but not at her. “That one of these days, you’d finally understand.”

She bit her lip, guilt settling in her stomach. “…I still feel bad.”

Mydei let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re impossible.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes. “And you’re stubborn.”

They locked eyes, and for a brief moment, there was nothing but silence.

Then—

“…I liked you.”

The words tumbled out before Y/N could stop them.

Mydei froze.

Her eyes widened slightly as she realized what she’d just said.

“I—I mean—” She sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly flustered. “I like you—I liked you—no, I mean—” She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. “I never let myself think about it!”

Mydei remained still, watching her carefully. “…What do you mean?”

Y/N inhaled shakily, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I mean, I liked you—I like you—but I never let myself think about it.” Her voice grew softer. “Because you’re you.”

His expression flickered, something unreadable passing through his golden eyes. “…Me?”

“You’re a prince, Mydei,” she murmured. “You’re an Chrysos heir. You have responsibilities. A whole kingdom to think about. And I’m just—”

Her voice faltered, her chest tightening.

Just Y/N.

Mydei’s brows drew together.

“Y/N.”

Her breath hitched slightly when he suddenly stepped closer.

She swallowed, forcing herself to keep talking. “I just—I didn’t think it was possible. I didn’t let myself think about it, because—”

“Enough.”

Her words died in her throat.

His voice was firm—certain.

She looked up at him, startled by the intensity in his golden gaze.

“You’re not ‘just’ anything.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“You think I care about any of that?” Mydei scoffed, shaking his head. “You think it matters to me that I’m a prince and you’re not?”

Y/N swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

He exhaled sharply, then—without hesitation—reached out, cupping the side of her face with his hand.

She froze, her breath catching.

“You,” Mydei said quietly, “are the only thing I have ever wanted for myself.”

Y/N’s heart stuttered.

Her mind went completely blank.

Mydei held her gaze, his thumb gently brushing against her cheek. “…Do you understand now?”

She barely managed to nod, her face burning.

He let out a small, breathy chuckle—soft, fond.

“Good.”

The morning sun bathed Okhema in a soft golden light, the streets already alive with the usual sounds of merchants calling out their wares and warriors beginning their morning drills. Among them, Mydei walked with an unmistakable air of satisfaction. His usual composed and sharp demeanor was still intact, but there was something different—his shoulders weren’t as tense, his expression wasn’t as severe, and if one looked closely enough, they might even catch a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Phainon definitely noticed.

He had been casually leaning against a stone pillar near the training grounds, sipping his morning coffee, when Mydei passed by. At first, Phainon had assumed his eyes were playing tricks on him. But no. Mydei looked happy.

Suspiciously happy.

Phainon’s smirk was immediate. He pushed off the pillar and lazily strolled toward him.

“Well, well,” he drawled, falling into step beside Mydei. “Aren’t you in a fine mood today?”

Mydei didn’t react right away, but Phainon didn’t miss the way his lips twitched slightly before he responded.

“Hm.”

That was it. Just hm.

Phainon raised an eyebrow. “That’s all I get? No sharp retort? No glare?” He whistled, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

Mydei sighed, rolling his eyes. “What do you want, deliverer?”

“Oh, nothing, really.” Phainon took another sip of his coffee, watching Mydei closely. “Just curious as to why you look like someone who just won a war without lifting a sword.”

Mydei scoffed. “You’re exaggerating.”

Phainon clicked his tongue. “Am I?” He took a step ahead, then turned to walk backward, facing Mydei as he grinned. “You’re radiating smugness, Mydei. It’s practically dripping off of you. It’s disgusting.”

The golden-eyed prince sighed, clearly debating whether or not to entertain this conversation.

Phainon’s grin widened. “Does this have anything to do with a certain someone?”

For the first time since their conversation started, Mydei hesitated.

It was subtle—the briefest pause in his step, the slightest shift in his expression—but Phainon caught it immediately.

“Oh, this is rich.” Phainon let out a delighted laugh. “You’re really not gonna say anything?”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Right. And I suppose that faint blush on your ears is also nothing?”

Mydei turned his head slightly, subtly adjusting his collar, but it was too late.

Phainon saw everything.

“Oh, this is fantastic,” Phainon continued, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief. “Should I go find Y/N? Ask her what happened?”

That finally got a reaction.

Mydei stopped walking.

Phainon barely had a second to register it before Mydei turned his head just enough to level him with a look.

“…You won’t.”

Phainon blinked. Then, slowly, a grin stretched across his face.

“Oh, but now I have to.”

Mydei exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Phainon.”

Phainon only laughed, stepping closer. “Come on. Give me something. Did she finally get it?”

Mydei crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “…More or less.”

Phainon gasped dramatically. “You mean all of your awkward attempts actually paid off?”

Mydei gave him a flat look. “They weren’t awkward.”

“They absolutely were,” Phainon said smugly. “But that’s beside the point.” He tilted his head. “So? What now?”

Mydei was quiet for a moment.

Then, slowly, a small, knowing smirk tugged at his lips.

“Now,” he said, “I make sure she never forgets.”

Phainon blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

Then he let out a low whistle. “Oh. Oh, this is going to be fun to watch.”

Phainon still wasn’t done.

If anything, Mydei’s flustered reaction only fueled his mischief further.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Phainon reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. His smirk was downright wicked as he tapped a few times on the screen before turning it toward Mydei.

“Seems like you had a good time yesterday,” he mused, his voice laced with amusement.

Mydei’s golden eyes landed on the screen.

It was the picture.

The one Phainon had secretly taken while lurking in the distance—Y/N on her toes, a hand gripping Mydei’s collar, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The normally stoic prince was caught mid-reaction, his ears red, his expression stunned.

A moment of silence.

Then—

“Mydei?” Phainon said, grinning. “You okay there, buddy?”

Mydei exhaled through his nose, his jaw tightening. “Phainon.”

Phainon’s smirk widened. “Yes?”

Mydei’s eye twitched.

“Delete it.”

“Oh, absolutely not.” Phainon pocketed his phone, taking a casual step back. “This is gold. Fantastic, even.”

Mydei ran a hand down his face. He inhaled deeply, as if to compose himself. Then, he took a step forward.

Phainon immediately took another step back.

“Mydei,” he said, amusement clear in his voice.

The prince said nothing. He merely rolled his shoulders back, his expression shifting from mild embarrassment to something much more dangerous.

Phainon recognized that look instantly.

“Oh, shit.”

Mydei lunged.

Phainon barely had time to react before he bolted, laughter spilling from his lips as he dodged between passing warriors and startled civilians.

Mydei was right behind him.

“You’re dead, Phainon.”

“So worth it!” Phainon cackled, vaulting over a wooden crate as he ran through the streets of Okhema.

“Get back here!”

“Never!”

Civilians watched in stunned silence as the two Chrysos heirs chased eachother through the marketplace, dodging carts, weaving through narrow streets, their thundering footsteps echoing through the city.

It was definitely not the last time Phainon was going to bring it up.

I saw you wanted some requests!!

Could I request kissing Idia all over his face? I just feel like it’d be so funny to see his reaction

I hope you have a lovely day!!

idia shroud who’s doomed with lots of kisses.

Idia was losing. Badly. And it wasn’t his fault—it could never be his fault—his teammates were just outright incompetent.

“Seriously? Who runs straight into the enemy’s trap without checking the map first?” he grumbled. “Do they even understand the concept of positioning?”

You were just lying on his chest, your body nestled comfortably against his as you watched him play. Your arms were wrapped around his torso, your face just inches from his, and you hummed a quiet tune to entertain yourself.

You were so close. Too close.

And yet... Idia didn’t mind. In fact, he kind of liked it.

He still couldn’t believe you two were like this now—so close, so comfortable. A year ago, he wouldn’t have even dreamed of letting someone into his room, much less on his bed. But now... it was his favorite thing in the world.

Especially when it was you.

Well, you were always the only exception to him whenever it came to almost anything.

Idia tried to focus on his game, his eyes glued to the screen as his character dodged another poorly timed attack from the enemy. “Are they... are they actually feeding the enemy team?! Oh my Sevens, I’m going to spam report them with all of my accounts.” He let out a dramatic sigh, his hair flickering with frustrated flames.

“Amateurs... all of them.”

“You get so worked up over your games,” you tease, your voice warm and affectionate.

He huffed, his eyes narrowing at the screen. “I-It’s because they’re so bad! I mean, seriously, who rushes into a 1v4 without backup?! Do they even know how to play?!”

You just smiled, your fingers gently tracing patterns on his chest. He wore his teal hoodie, the one you got him just because you can. “You’re cute when you get all frustrated.”

“They’re just... so ugh. It’s like they’ve never played a MOBA before.” His fingers moved with practiced precision, his character launching a series of attacks that wiped out two enemies in quick succession. “See? That’s how you do it. If I weren’t here, they’d be doomed.

You didn’t respond, your eyes still focused on him. Idia’s heart raced when he noticed, his fingers faltering on the controller. You were looking at him with that expression again—that sweet, adoring look that made his stomach burst with butterflies and his mind go blank.

He tried to ignore it, tried to focus on his game, but it was impossible. You were too close, too warm, too... loving.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“You look cute when you’re focused.”

He scoffed, his face heating up. “I don’t look cute. I look serious. Intense. Like a soldier.”

“You’re cute,” you insisted, laughing. “Very cute.”

His heart skipped a beat, his fingers faltering on the controller. He narrowly avoided an incoming ultimate skill, his character’s health dropping dangerously low. “H-Hey, don’t distract me!”

“But it’s fun.”

Idia rolled his eyes, sighing. “You’re supposed to be my co-pilot. Aren’t you supposed to be helping me win?”

“I am helping. I’m boosting your morale.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, right. Some morale boost...”

Before he could say more, you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his chin.

Idia’s heart stopped.

His body went rigid, his breath catching in his throat. Your lips were warm and soft, lingering for just a moment before you pulled away as if it was the most common thing to do.

His character died on screen, the revival countdown flashing in bold white numbers. Idia barely noticed, his mind reeling from the sensation of your kiss.

“[Name]...?”

“I told you it was a morale boost.” How could you casually shrug this off?!

Idia stared at you. How did you two get here? How did he get to the point where he was lying on his bed with his girlfriend, cuddling up to him, kissing him like it was the most natural thing in the world?

More importantly, how did he get to the point where he was okay with it? Did he actually want you to be this close?

Your lips brushed his cheek, softer this time, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down his spine. Idia’s breath hitched, his fingers clenching around his controller.

“W-What are you doing?” His voice was embarrassingly weak, his heart pounding in his chest. God, how pathetic he sounded.

You, however, didn’t answer, your lips trailing along his cheekbones. Then you kissed his forehead, his nose, and even the little mole on his temple.

Idia’s hands trembled, his controller slipping from his fingers and falling onto the mattress beside him. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, his body moving on its own.

“I like watching you play,” you admitted quietly. “You get so focused. It’s adorable.”

He groaned, his head falling back against his pillow.

“You’re... evil...”

You laughed. “You’re just realizing that now?”

“You’re worse than players who don’t know how to cast their character’s ultimate combo.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You then leaned in and kissed him again, this time on the corner of his mouth.

His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. You were so, so close now, your face just inches from his.

He swallowed hard. “You’re... really close...”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No.”

“Ok.”

He never thought he’d get to this point—never thought he’d find someone who accepted him, who cared for him, who wanted to be close to him. Someone who could understand him and make him feel as though he deserves to be loved unconditionally.

And yet, here you were, lying in his arms, your warmth seeping into him, your presence filling every corner of his heart.

“I... really like you.”

He likes saying it when he feels as though he needs to say it, which isn’t often, so it holds sentiment and tenderness.

“I like you too, Idia. Really, really like you.”

Idia was doomed. Completely, absolutely, undeniably doomed... and he never wanted to be saved.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

misunderstandings ft. dr ratio

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— PUSH AND PULL : honkai star rail.

premise. as someone who's always believed in the term “try and try again,” (peak delusion, you know) rooting yourself in their heart has always been your goal, no matter the cold rejections and curt declines you receive. however, even you have your limits; perhaps this little push and pull you two have going isn't worth your time after all... but what happens then, if the chaser becomes the chased? (oh, how the turns have tabled.)

...or, when you play hard to get with them.

— ft. sunday, aventurine, jing yuan.

warnings: angst n fluff, messy messy, these boys are in love but are wayyy too chicken to admit they actually adore you, genderless reader.

a/n. inspired by @/xiaowhore's playing hard to get headcanons! my holy trinity 😇 n MY FAVES RAHHH

NEXT : BACK TO MASTERLIST || ASKBOX

SUNDAY is perplexed. very much aware of his qualities which enlists him as one of the finer (finest) bachelors of Penacony (he was the Robin's one and only blood, and was also the head of one of the main guiding forces of the Family, after all), sunday isn't sure he's ever come across someone as.... tenacious as you.

foolish, to be more precise, for he cannot for the life of him comprehend exactly why you are the way you are with... him.

no matter his respectful declines of your invitations to promenade around Penacony (re: going on dates), you really didn't know how to leave him be. though he hasn't exactly said he hated it, sunday was, admittedly, rather... affronted. your gifts, in particular, were your loud declarations of your affection (that make his wings flutter more rapidly than he'd like); but sunday was rather inconvenienced at the whole thing.

nonetheless, he does still accept them. reluctantly, mind you. not because he was fond of your constant shower of affections, which seemed so permanent that he began to look forward to them got used to it. to your credit, your gifts were very much to his tastes. (Robin once gave him a rather soul-searching look when he found himself wearing the gloves you gifted, light blue and white in color. he still uses it, just not when his sister is in the vicinity.)

in fact, perhaps he may have gotten too comfortable. little by little, your constant intrusions on his time have thawed a way to his heart; making sunday look forward to your jovial greetings and grandeur elaborations on your day, and such a thing makes him feel scared sunday needed to nip this in the bud, and fast.

so he confronts you, abruptly one day as you give him his newest gift—a jewelry box for his earrings. (surely, the rapid thumping of his heart was due to his irritation at your constant persistence, right?) “i'm afraid this can no longer continue. i am flattered by your... fancy for me, but i do not wish to enter a relationship in the near future.”

the utter silence that follows is torture to him—but he endures. he tries not to look at the momentary flash of hurt on your face. you seemed to quickly recover, though. giving him a simple smile (it didn't reach your eyes. it shocks him how his chest ached at the realization) and shaking your head when he returns the gift to you.

“i understand, mr. sunday.” the formal usage of his name instead of your chipper ‘sunday!’ makes his face twitch. “but please, keep the gift. think of this as my last declaration. it... would do me a great comfort, just this last time, if you accepted it instead.”

(if he had grabbed your hand at that moment as you left for the door, would he regret it?)

when you leave, sunday thought it would put the conflicting feelings in his mind at ease—but it doesn't. a week and two days counting, true to your word, sunday receives no flagrant gifts, nor little messages on his phone that tell him to take care of himself, to eat, and to make sure to remember to check up on Robin.

instead, contrary to the feeling of ease, regret follows him instead.

it's at two weeks and five days counting when sunday could no longer stand the sight of papers that stacked atop his desk and the image of you leaving for the door replaying in his head far too many times for him to count, that he contacts Robin.

and she, once hearing about the situation, gives him a very, very enlightening talk. (of course, not without giving her brother a lecture of the lifetime. part of him felt shame to know that his sister knew of his... turbulent love life, but she was the only one who he could trust, anyway).

“absence makes the heart grow fonder,” she says. “but in your case, brother, your heart has already decided it's course, right?”

sunday eyes the smooth velvet of the jewelry box you gifted, ruminating. his earrings lie there, carefully pristine and beautiful, gold and silver intertwined. he has worn them without fail, clean and spotless. (of course it was. such a design so intricate was only chosen by you. the thought makes his ears warm).

the next days are agonizing. vigor renewed and epiphanies well-spent, sunday spends the rest of his time after finishing his duties researching and painstakingly finding the best jeweller he can find (even employing the suggestions of a certain gambler, much to his dislike), and spending a god awful amount of time revisiting and rechecking which spots you like, which places you enjoy, to the point it comes up in Penacony's headlines that sunday is interested in someone.

surely, it should've reached your ears by now, yes? sunday panics. your preferences are well-accounted for, and he's sure the Bloodhound family members that report to him have to tell you that the person he had in mind was you. even Robin, who was your closest friend, has probably told you already.

it's embarrassing to admit, but; to hell with it, the day he meets you after three weeks and sees you having a pleasant chat with aventurine, of all people, sunday thinks his heart had shattered into little pieces and stabbed themselves into his body. not so much as sparing him a glance, moreso.

so when, finally at his wits end, sunday chooses to corner you at the dewlight pavilion and spills out how he has royally screwed up in the worst way possible, no one is surprised. at this rate, you would be swept up in the charms of that wretched gambler, and what sunday lacked in, aventurine more than made up for.

“wait, don't go to that gambler just yet.” he's breathless, he's chaotic—and something in his heart squeezes when you finally look at him. “i... i wish to take up your time now, if that's possible.” (he wishes he would take up your time forever, really, but that was still too early).

you eye his getup. all of your gifts, lined on the man you spent so long chasing after—you see the gloves you gifted, the tie with not so much as a single crease, and the earrings that shine more brightly in the light of the pavilion. (it suits him. like you) it was as if sunday had completely surrendered himself to you, had all but decided to proclaim that he was yours, and this was nothing short of a plea for you to hear him.

“please.” he says. almost begs. “i can't bear not seeing you anymore. allow me to correct such a damning mistake.”

and if you were skeptical, the way sunday looks at you would dispel any doubt you could ever have. (his wings, they were fluttering.)

(months later, after a nerve-ending confession, many days of dinners, shared gifts involving matching jewelry and promenading to your wishes, it dawns on sunday he was absolutely dancing to your tune. did he regret it, though?

....no, most certainly not.)

if AVENTURINE were to be honest with himself, he saw you as a useful “friend” rather than a romantic interest. was it bad of him? of a sort. but risk cutting himself open and letting someone he might grow to care for know about all the ugliness that follows his life? no, he's fine as it is, thanks.

the first thing he notices is that you're kind—though he distrusted most of his colleagues and preferred none to get close to him, aventurine, in some morbid moment of curiosity, instead allowed himself to bask in your attention. instead of curtly disparaging you, he flirts back at your compliments (the way your face heated up in return was far too endearing that he can't help but want to kiss you he finds it amusing) and consistently texts you a “did you get home safe” or a “i bought you this because it reminded me of you”; at this point, it was like you two were dating.

was it leading you on? yes, but he supposes it was a win-win; he could send you those tiny bits of validation that was enough for you to stay respectfully at a distance while he probed at your intentions. unlike others who attempt to garner his favor, you're genuine, and you seriously take the time to know him. because you always text back with hearts, always reassure him, tell him to stay safe and wish him luck at every gamble, every high stakes bet he finds himself in. you even complimented his perfume once (and, if he had to be honest, he could not stop thinking about it all day—because that perfume he commissioned exclusively was based off of your own favorite scents and it was extremely embarrassing that he loved hugging you knowing that you loved the way he smelled and that it felt extremely domestic).

(sometimes, he doesn't reply. for months on end. suddenly the golden-haired man you love goes cold and you know then that aventurine ghosts you and then returns when he's in need of a friend—never a lover. it hurts you, but at the very least, you know he cares in his own way.)

and, if aventurine had to be honest, it was killing him from the inside bit by bit. as if to drive the knife deeper, you never danced around what exactly was going on with you two. you never ask why he ghosts you, then sends you a bundle of gifts all of a sudden and then rapidly spends time with you and repeating the cycle. no, you were consistently by his side, so warm and so caring—so unlike him—that aventurine wonders if it's really all right to open his heart to you.

if, by some chance, he actually wanted to be with you, would you treat him even more sweetly than before? aventurine thinks you would—you were beautiful in your entirety, and he was practically undeserving of you. he imagines himself kissing your hand and having you in his arms—and that feels like ice cold water being dumped onto his head, because you could do so much better and yet, why him?

so when aventurine hears about how a certain doctor was visiting you for some unknown reason, his already fragile sense of security in this little will-they, won't they crumbles.

and when he finds out that you were staying over with ratio? something twisted lodges itself in the little brushes of his heart, coiling and coiling—making him feel green. aventurine is aware you and the doctor are good friends, and ratio was the one who even told you to make a move on him! how could he just—suddenly interrupt?!

(was it dramatic? extremely. but knowing his friend and the person he secretly adores might end up together? you can't really blame him.)

he supposes this can be attributed to him. it was an egregious mistake, a blunder aventurine made—he never gave you a clear sight of whether he truly loved you or not and now you're slipping away from him.

so, he does something very unexpected.

at 3:00 AM in the wee early morning hours, aventurine practically barges into one Dr. veritas ratio's home, demanding what the hell was going on between you. and as if he had expected it, his doctor friend merely gives him a shrug in return.

“perhaps they were simply getting fed up by a certain IPC member—who is clearly head over heels in love with them—giving them mixed signals.” ratio's tone is stern, and aventurine definitely knows that the look he gives him is the one he gives only to fools.

you idiot, the doctor seems to say. yeah, yeah, he is; aventurine ignores the clear pinprick at his dignity.

yes, he supposes he is the fool here. “ah.”

“yes, ‘ah,’ indeed. now, let me propose a question.” the purple-haired man says. “will you react in such a way when i tell you that in order for my friend to stop their anguish, i managed to get them to fraternize with one of my colleagues?”

“...what?”

“they will be having a meet-up seven system hours from now.” ratio shrugs. eyes aventurine, who's looking at him like a gaping, stupid fish. “i can only hope that no one would dare to disrupt.”

...it doesn't take him long to be rid of the gambler by then.

(a few hours later, you stop by the Intelligentsia Guild to see one veritas ratio with a smug smile, eyeing the fur coat draped around your shoulders, and the flushed and happy expression written on your face.

“did it work?” he asks.

you laugh, “splendidly.”

indeed, that gambler was a fool, and there's nothing more than dr. ratio loved than to educate such fools to shape.

“that will teach him.”)

as a quote unquote ‘old man’ who knows that he's well up in his years for a relationship, JING YUAN finds you to be quite amusing.

it doesn't take a detailed analysis to know that you were smitten with him, really. you're a complete open book by his standards—if your heated face and slightly airy voice whenever you were even placed in the same vicinity with the Dozing General was anything to come by. while flattering, he also shares the similar mindset of being too old for any love his way—and he could be mara-struck at any given time, and jing yuan does not wish such a life filled with anguish and pain for the one who may steal his heart. but, worry not, brave suitor of the Arbiter General! unlike the other two above, this man has the experience of millenia, and is open-minded and aware that you truly wish to be perceived as a potential lover.

in fact, jing yuan's recent favorite habit is sneaking off the Seat of Divine Foresight purely to freak you out, watching you scramble up your words, seeing the heat crawl up your nape and bloom all across your face. adorable. you certainly knew how to appeal, that's for sure.

(“heh, it seems i've found a new place to stay in so that the Diviner Fu won't grill me alive when she sees me.”

and when he's rewarded with a bashful and speechless look in return, a smile and your, “i'm glad, general.” it surprisingly lightens up his mood by more than he expected.

that, in turn, gives him a frightening 30% energy boost; fu xuan was utterly shocked to see the languid man actually working and looking like he enjoyed it, for once.

“did something good happen today, jing yuan? why so enthusiastic?”

“i just felt like working more than usual, diviner Fu. i seem to have my energy levels at a high.”)

now, jing yuan is considerate and perceptive first and foremost, so there's a high chance that out of all the men here, he is the most open to giving you the chance to pursue him. he does inform you beforehand that he has no plans of accepting your confessions in the future, and that is where the ‘hard to get’ part comes in.

it's like playing a confusing romance visual novel with a fickle love interest—you never really know what you're doing, whether it's something jing yuan would like or not, and you don't know if he even thinks your attempts are moving his heart. (tldr: he friend zones you).

he maintains the same distance no matter his banters with you, no matter how many times you tell him that you'd help yanqing out with sword lessons. it's like he was just... treating you as he would a friend, and that you were basically stuck in the friend-zone forever.

(he keeps it to himself, but something warm stirs in his chest when he sees yanqing sleeping on your shoulder after training practice, with your arm protectively around the boy's side.

your sleeping face didn't make it easy to look away either; it's one of the few moments in which jing yuan shows just the slightest bit of reciprocating your pursuits; he brushes back the stray hairs covering your face, and drapes a blanket over the two of you.

of course, perhaps to tease yanqing, he also takes the calligraphy brush and makes a work out of his face, doodling all over it.

when you wake up, there's a lingering scent of ink and yellowed paper that fills your senses. when you turn to the boy beside you, you almost giggle out loud.)

it's a little disheartening—and while jing yuan did acknowledge that you were slowly, slowly burrowing yourself in his heart, he doesn't act on it fast enough, and instead lets the realization sit in his mind for a while.

it gets to the point where it feels as though he were preparing to distance himself, and even yanqing had asked if he was well. your visits with the Arbiter General also decrease, as he suddenly buried himself in his work even more than before.

he doesn't get to see you all that much afterwards, despite the lingering feeling of missing you filling his heart.

....that's until jing yuan hears word of a recent mara-struck incident involving the Sky-faring Commission; with your name listed among those heavily injured.

when he visits Bailu's clinic after yanqing urges him, jing yuan takes in the sight of you, littered in injuries from head to toe. your life, about to snap. he never even told you that you won; you did manage to steal his heart and for the first time in a long time, jing yuan allows himself to love.

so if, after three weeks later when you're finally healed up and ready to go, jing yuan brings you into his arms and drags you to let him sleep in your lap, you can't really blame him now, can you?

a/n: i love yearner hsr men,,, might do a pt 2 though. thinking of mayb ratio, jiaoqiu and f/heng next time...... sighs dreamily

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

- Floyd is so stitch coded -

Sam's shop having one of those gumball machines where you can get a cute little plastic ring, Yuu is there with their fave twst boy and immediately gives the little piece of plastic they got to him and states with a serious face-

"Were married now."

Hellooo :3c I hope you are doing alright 🌸

I want to make a request, i got a silly idea and i hope you dont mind!

If posible, i would like to request for Riddle, Carter, Azul and Lilia and how they would react when while they were hanging out with their crush (or s/o, however you prefer) reader out of nowhere tells them that last night they had a dream where both were getting married, but like reader is telling them cuz the dreams was so wild, like in the old princess Disney movies everything was so animated, there were floating things everywhere and it was full of color and everyone was dancing (even the furniture)

The wedding bells

Type: Headcanons, SFW, Fluff, Romantic

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts; Cater Diamond; Azul Ashengrotto; Lilia Vanrouge; GN!Reader

AN: I might've gone a bit too sappy, let me know what you think

Riddle Rosehearts

-Riddle is slightly baffled, more so by the thought of you dreaming of a wedding with him as the groom, not how wierd it was. The latter at least makes sense, dreams are intended to be strange, like that one time he dreamt about being a tart. Nonetheless he's touched.

- The young man would be flustered, yet curious. Inanimate objects becoming... Animate? In tales about Queen of Hearts something similar acured on daily basis. Perhaps if the two of you do get married maybe he should try and arrange for the whole ordeal to be heavily based off of one of the Sevens? But that's jumping too fast and too far into the future.

- His mind wonders as you tell and more about your dream, as his face grows redder and redder with blush as you describe any detail involving him as the groom. He's both touched and embarrassed to an extent, yet he's happy that at least in your dream he stayed a proper gentleman.

- Riddle cannot get an image of you by the altar from his head for some time, both of you dressed for the ceremony, staring lovingly into each other's eyes... As he mentally scolds himself for daydreaming amids the day, he can't help but hope that one day that little dream of yours becomes reality for both of you.

Cater Diamond

- Oh?! Do tell him every little detail! Cater is not only happy that he was in your dream, but also was the groom? Oh did the two of you kiss? Did he feed you the cake, did you two dance with the furniture? The young man listens to your dream, exited expression on his face.

- It may be a dream, but now it's a shared dream between the two of you. Cater knows that you might be jumping over your heads with the hypothetical dream wedding of yours, but he doesn't care, he's already invested, trying to prey out as much detail as possible simply to try and envision the whole thing. He might even pull out some kind of Piccrew for rooms and try to recreate the place for giggles with you.

- Cater is also encouraging of your ideas or how dream might've ended or what happened in parts you don't remember no matter how silly or how little they make sense, so long as they make sense to you. He might even throw in his own theories or add even more redicules ideas, to make your dream seem even more whimsical.

- While Cater is obviously joking around, he does find the thought of marrying you a pleasant one. He's jealous even, the man wishes he saw a wedding with you in his dream, but then again, reality is just as pleasant if not better.

Azul Ashengrotto

- What. The man is flattered that he was in your dream, but mainly, what? Azul is a very analytic person in every aspect of his life, even if such aspect involves his significant other's dreams. Que his search history later on containing "Dreams of wedding meaning?"

- He might be a little red in a face or loss at words, but please don't stop, tell him all, the man lives for information. While he won't encourage such silly fantasies, he will entertain a thought of marriage to you. A lot... Maybe dancing and singing furniture is surface dwellers costume? He'll have to research.

-Ashengrotto will now daydream from time to time of a wedding, a life of being married to you, after the two of you graduate. Would the you stay on land? Perhaps you'd like to move to the Coral Sea with him, take up family business even? He might pretend that such silly fantasies don't affect him, but even capatlists aren't immune to love.

- Azul harbors such hopes and dreams, redoubling in his work. If he will be married to you he'll have to outdo your dream, which will involve outdoing alive furniture. The merman is ready for the challenge as long as it involves giving you everything, beyond your dreams.

Lilia Vanrouge

- You don't say... Alive furniture? Was it awkward to use it? Were chairs rioting if you sat in them? Was food also alive? Did he cook it? Then perhaps it was alive if that was the case. Lilia finds anything you say entertaining, your dreams are con exception. The man saw many things in his life, yet others visions during slumber were yet to be places he visits often.

- Before you know it Lilia is already imagining and building theories as to how it would be to live in your dream after that wedding if everything followed the same rules. Must be awkward taking a shower or using a toilet.

- The man wholeheartedly believes it tonbe a sign from someone above. While Vanrouge won't drop down on one knee right that instant, he will remember everything. The suite he was wearing, the cake the two of you ate, how many guests were there etc.

-Lilia is not young, so naturally thoughts of marriage crossed his mind more then once, let alone with his darling. While to you were retelling your silly dream, Vanrouge was imagining the real thing. He can't help it, life with you already feels like a dream come true, what's a wedding?

In Your Defense [PT 3 - Ignihyde]

You decide to work at Sam's for Valentine's Day and your crush just happens to hear a customer hitting on you. If they get arrested, can you be their alibi?

AKA: This person has a death wish and you find out your crush might be jealous?

Note: Each one is random and some will be longer than others. If I made everyone the same length this thing would be MASSIVE and I would probably die.

Not proofread because of the length.

Whatever part Ortho is in will be platonic, obvs.

Happy V-day!

**Need to go to bed for work tomorrow so Diasomnia will be on my next day off. Can't stay up long enough to squeeze it in**

If there was one thing Idia hated, it was going out in public. He hated how the sun burned his eyes, all the bugs flying around, the way people looked at his hair, and almost had a heart attack at the idea that he'd have to talk to people.

Major bummer. 0/10, don't recommend.

But he'd suck it up and soldier on because the call of sweets was too tempting to resist. The trek to Sam's isn't the longest from Ignihyde but it's enough to make him pace himself.

Yeah, he's not really an outside person. Or a physical activity person outside of dancing to Premo or working on his projects.

He briefly wonders if Ortho put Sam up to this as he finds his second wind and ascends the hill. Who has a bomb sweets sale and DOESN'T ALLOW ONLINE PURCHASES?! WHY WERE THE DISCOUNTS IN-PERSON ONLY?

Idia breaths a sigh of relief and fixes his hoodie before mustering up his courage and opening the door. He's throwing himself into the proverbial lion's den, into an introvert's worst nightmare!

The noise and people are almost too much but he distracts himself with all the pink and red. Mercifully, the candy is spread out around the store so he doesn't have to stay in the sea of people. Idia doesn't discriminate when it comes to sweets; he gets soft cake rolls, pixie sticks, little donuts, a few chocolate bars, and a couple of limited edition dessert drinks. He's secretly glad Sam's regular stock didn't take a hit because of the holiday; his snack stash needs replenishing. Packs of ramen and little things of convenience bury his sweets stash but he's careful not to crush anything.

He can almost hear Ortho nagging him to get something green or slightly healthy. If he doesn't, Ortho will be mad at him for a week. It becomes a battle of wits between the Shroud brothers and Ortho is the king of juvenile inconveniences. Idia has learned the hard way; Ortho resets his alarms, throttles his wi-fi, messes with his lights, takes apart his tablet or takes it off charge in the middle of the night, and just about anything else he can think of.

Idia begrudgingly puts some green smoothies in his basket. Along with some pudding cups.

Satisfied with his raid, he waits in line. He's chanting to himself the whole time: just walk, don't make eye contact! Just walk, don't make eye contact! The line stalls enough for someone to bump into him and he panics, stumbling forward into the person in front of him. His hair flickers and flares a little in his panic.

People give him space and he babbles a quick apology. He pulls his hoodie up over his hair but it doesn't hide everything. It makes him feel safe, though. He relaxes a little.

Then, he hears it.

HOW MUCH DO YOU COST?!

Oof. MAXIMUM cringe. NO ONE on campus has a charisma stat high enough to make THAT work! Except Kingscholar and Schoenheit, maybe.

It gets worse when he realizes someone said that TO YOU.

OH NO! HE HAS COMPETITION!

The tactic looks like it failed, though, so he's comforted. You wouldn't go for something so cheap and cheesy! This guy looks like a D-level tank AT BEST. You're an SSR easy. D-levels and SSR's don't go together!

He's an SSR when it comes to stealth and technical skill so maybe one day you guys can link up or whatever. Your choice. The tips of his hair turn pink and he blows on the closest strand to mute the color.

The guy is doubling down. "You're rolling a one, pleb. A hard one." Idia whispers to himself.

"You say somethin', Shroud?" the guy turns to him.

FUCK, HE KNOWS HIS NAME?!

Idia's hair roars to life with surprise. He yanks the hoodie down before the fabric singes and crisps. His strands are wild, untamed, and yellow. His instinct is to stutter and deny it, to backtrack, but your eyes are just shy of pleading and it makes him swallow the word soup.

"I-I said you're rolling a hard one. Y-You're failing!" Idia doesn't know if he's going to faint first or if his legs will give out. His heart might go first.

The guy clearly doesn't get the reference. The brain is buffering and the lag is too great. He shakes his head with a sharp, toothy smile, unable to help himself. Dumb normie, Idia gives a breathy chuckle. Idia has that unfortunate condition where his face talks for him and it must've said some shit because the tank is now laser-focused on him.

You're over the counter before he can process anything, grabbing the guy by the back of his shirt and telling him to leave. The guy just jerks his shoulders and stays the course. Idia sees you get ripped over the counter and tumble to the floor. You recover decently and grab the closest thing to you but something about the sound of your body hitting the floor sends him into a rage he'd only felt in online arguments.

It feels like his veins are burning. He can tell by the size of his shadow and the light dancing across the floor that his hair is long and ferociously orange. Raging orange. Lethal orange.

"Caution," Idia manages somehow through his rage. "C-Contents are hot." he knows he has to stay put. If he approaches the guy he will LITERALLY catch on fire. It's not a bad idea, and he can see the gears spinning in the guy's head. He's wondering if Idia's going to do it or if he has enough time to hit the door.

The guy chooses the door.

It takes several minutes for Idia to calm down. His hair seems to shrink as he deflates into his usual quiet mannerisms. It's shorter than normal! "Used up all my fuel," Idia complains as he drags himself to the counter. "Need calories." he melts pitifully into the counter.

"You need to buy what you burned, too." Sam points to the singed chips and snacks. He already has a few packs that are beyond saving in his arms. Idia realizes the shop is basically empty now and finds the energy to blush. Pink cheeks look really cute against his blue hair!

"Does this mean I'm done for the day?"

"Yes." Sam looks at you. He's not mad or disappointed, but he means you're done. "I think you're a bit of a fire hazard." he teases.

You both blush.

None of this was in his decision tree! WHAT DOES HE DO?

"You, uh, you want to come by Ignihyde and, um, watch some stuff? You don't have to if you don't want to, of course. I just, you know, since it was my fault and all--"

"Is that a nat twenty in the wild? I think I have to now!" you joke.

"You get that?" Idia's mouth hangs open in surprise.

"It might have different names but I think it's the same thing in my world." you shrug. He's so down to discuss games from another dimension!

A nat twenty indeed!

----

Ortho was doing his best to fill the gaps with whatever Sam's shop had to offer. Idia's grocery order was a little delayed due to the Valentine's holiday so he needed something decent to tide him over. Determined to keep his brother from an early, sodium-induced death, Ortho took it upon himself to shop. He wasn't totally heartless, though, so he'd throw in a few bags of chips to make Idia feel better.

A lot of this chocolate was out of the question! The sugar was through the roof! Then again, Idia was hopelessly addicted to sweets. He's pretty sure his brother broke some kind of record for sugar tolerance.

Equipped with Vil's suggestions and the things he researched, Ortho started hunting for healthy foods. He filled the basket with smoothies, yogurts, dark chocolate, fruit, and protein bars. There should be enough texture and flavor variation there to make Idia happy. Well...relatively.

Ortho floated patiently in line, subtly recording the conversations around him for later playback. Organic human interaction was interesting and would help him improve his algorithms and processes.

It's not like it hurt anything! All of the conversations were innocent and--

WAS SOMEONE TRYING TO MAKE A MOVE ON HIS FRIEND? HIS BESTEST, MOST PRECIOUS FRIEND?! ONLY HIS BIG BROTHER CAN DO THAT!

You may not totally get that he's a techno-organic construct (and not a boy who just really loves pretending to be a robot) but HE GETS that YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE AND THAT'S NOT OKAY!

"Excuse me, pardon me," Ortho weaves carefully through the people, playing a little 'wee-woo' alarm through his speaker system.

He floats beside the guy, staring at him with those big gold eyes. Pinching his thumb and pointer finger together turns up the alarm.

The guy is ignoring the alarms! How ridiculous! Is this what Idia means by natural selection and survival of the fittest?

A red light pops out of his shoulder, spinning in place.

HE'S IGNORING THAT, TOO?!

"You're being interrupted!" Ortho glares at him now, tuft of blue hair dancing angrily. "This conversation is clearly inappropriate for the setting and is henceforth terminated!"

"Terminated? Big words for a little boy! Go away, big people are talking!" the guy tries to shoo him away.

"Don't be rude to him!" you snap, "And he's right! The conversation is terminated!"

"Terminated!" Ortho echoes, pumping his fist. "Terminated!" he repeats, laughing when some of the people in line begin to join in and chant 'terminated, terminated!'

The guy leaves without buying anything and Ortho is happy to take his place. He pays for the the snacks. "And here's a sticker for you for being so sweet!" you put a sticker on the back of his hand. It's a heart wearing sunglasses.

Ortho laughs despite himself. One day he'll get Idia to explain it to you in a way you understand. He's surprised nothing like him exists in your world but he's glad to be here with you in Twisted Wonderland.