synopsis: highschool crushes aren't easy, especially when you've only ever seen them with their face nose deep into a book.
warnings: highschool au (this was originally going to be a campus au but then i realised I've never been to college. bc. im youthmaxxinf.), fluff, fem!reader, inspired by Scott and Zelda by BIBI, slightly suggestive??? like a teensy weensy bit, reader is lowk glazing recoleta, "oh dikke has so much untouched potential" *writes abt recoleta instead*, k listen my mouth hurts and i can't eat anything i need her to make me feel better
(this is ancient i cant bear to add it to the main tag sorry)
Recoleta has always had a bit of a reputation. Whether it be positive or negative, she's left her mark nearly everywhere. Be it in the form of whispers about her literature or posters advertising the dnd club; you can't spend a day without seeing her.
It's not even like she tries to be effortlessly charming, she just naturally touches the hearts of those that set her eyes on her! You don't know if it's for her beauty or for her chivalry or both, but it's clear to say that she's also sought after.
Looks, personality and style— she really does have it all.
So it shouldn't be a surprise that you've fallen for her.
The question is... Just how will you bring yourself to tell her?
You can't just come to the library every few weeks to check on what book she's reading. That's creepy and damages your aura.
But confessing out of the blue... That might just worsen your chances! What type of person just confesses to someone they've never had a proper conversation with? How can you even be sure that you've fallen for her? For all you know there could be a whole other personality to her, one completely different to the one you've fallen in love with.
...Though starting a friendship with the Recoleta only because you wanna get with her is equally as scummy... Are you really in love with her for her? Or just because of her looks?
This is quite the dilemma...
Today, you're at the library to study. Not people watching or Recoleta watching— you're solely here to grind intelligence points.
Even when the dust that collects beside Recoleta beckons you, you're surprisingly passionate about whatever page your biology textbook is at.
Even when the chairs beside Recoleta yearn for you to use them to start your love story with her, you're too busy making your notes look as aesthetically pleasing as possible.
Even when you catch Recoleta herself pick her nose from out of her book and stare at you instead... You... Stare back...!?
let me kill myself and wash this dreadful fate away (DRAFT)
—ft. isolde
synopsis: you and Isolde have always been in the opera, her talents being incomparable to yours. you wonder what life could've been without everyone putting you against each other, you wonder if this life is worth it.
warnings: unestablished relationships, reader is human, slight? inferiority complex, Isolde and you are childhood acquaintances (possibly the closest thing either of you had to a childhood friend), please keep in mind that i know almost nothing about literature and opera, kakania mention!!!!, yeah Isolde can't comfort people very good but she tries?, Isolde is confused you are confused the people are yelling
You've never understood Isolde. That much is obvious.
From the day you met, when you were but a snot-nosed novice wearing skin that doesn't belong and the most you two could bond over was the way your teachers would work you like dogs. Even then, it was as if you two spoke completely different languages.
Such is the way of the Arcanists.
Chaotic, unreasonable and destructive is what comes to mind when the topic of Arcane is brought up. But when you look at Isolde, when you look at her casting an incantation, truly embodying her roles, all you see is an insurmountable beauty. One you won't ever dream of reaching, lest you lose yourself.
Isolde has never understood you. Even with her arcane skill, with her practice in bringing out the rawest and most subtle forms of emotion, she has yet to figure you out.
You're a constant puzzle to her. In that, she finds comfort.
It's strange. You're strange. Like a never ending show, with her as your only audience; a car crash she can't look away from. She's read about this—felt these things, these feelings during her time in the opera; when she lets the forsaken and the spirits inhabit her body. It's like second nature to her— it should be second nature to her; all the staring, the praises, the claps and cheers. But knowing that this feeling is hers and hers alone makes it foreign.
Isolde is a natural borne romantic, and when you take her hand; pulling her away from the dark places she's learnt to know as comforting, she feels like a fish out of water. Helpless.
note: in the past, u were an spdm kid and part time worker at the lscc with mesmer. she still cant seem to escape ur presence 650~ words
It's almost routine, the way you pester Mesmer jr— always nagging, always buzzing. Ever since you were children, ever since she first stepped foot in those cold, sterile halls.
Is this your way of countering her distance? By acting as if nothing had happened? By acting as if your opinion of her hasn't changed?
It's obvious in the way you look at her—it's obvious in the way everyone she once knew looks at her. Mesmer jr has changed. In the way she walks and in the way she talks there's a certain thickness in her voice that never seems to go away. Itching at her at all times.
You see it. Of course you'd see it. You had been with her throughout it all. Through severance, through loss.
And yet five years later, you talk to her as if she's the same old girl you met in that now dark place. As if you hadn't seen that woman's bleeding throat. As if it wasn't her fault. As if—
With a screeching tetanus, she jolts awake. Her eyes attempt to adjust to the surroundings. It's pitch black— save for the desk light quietly illuminating a piece of the room, accompanied with a small demeanor of... you.
What in the world? Is this a byproduct of that grueling dream? Is she really hallucinating you of all people? No. Mesmers are the bridge between rationale and chaos. If anything you would be the one hallucinating.
You approach her, tilting your head. "...a dream?"
Right. Not a hallucination. Just an incredibly strange person in her room, one whom she has a deep history with.
"Do you realise how many articles you're breaking?"
"Breaking? like how I broke into your room?" You chuckle at the unfunny joke meaninglessly. A delicate sound.
"Yes. Get out."
"but..." You inch closer, each step adding another layer of tension. "How can I, when my dear friend is in need?"
Friend. It's a foreign word to her as someone who was raised to be above such things. It makes her want to laugh. It makes her want to throw up.
She turns her mouth, "friend? I wasn't aware of such an arrangement."
The distance between you is short. Much too short for her liking. How can you stand being so close to her? A voice in the deep, locked up crevices of her mind cries. Back then, when the nights felt warmer and life was slightly less miserable, your childishness had left an indelible mark on her; no matter how much she tells herself otherwise. For once in her life, that little girl had thought of a future worth living, one where she could enjoy the small pleasures of life. Of course, it had only remained a thought. A passing dream.
You were someone that she could once confide in, albeit grudgingly.
But now, you only make Mesmer jr feel all the more weak.
Now, even a glimpse of your face forces her to reminisce on days prior. Happier days. Days she'll never see again, days that won't ever be relived.
So why... Why is it that you've snuck in her room tonight? And why doesn't she have the bite to force you out?
"I saw the door ajar and came inside to check up on you, as for your other question..." Your voice halts her monologue, piercing in that delicate way.
"Did I say that out loud...?" Mesmer jr mutters, it seems the call of the night has knocked down a few of her walls. You let out a low chuckle.
"no, I've known you long enough to at least guess what's going on in that big head of yours." You say, a smirk closely following your words.
"...you used your arcane skill, didn't you."
"have you no faith in me, my dear?"
"no, and don't call me that."
a stale mate, created through constant denial and shutdowns...... how will u navigate..... the icy heart of the fabled mesmer jr.....
ok so before seeing that wonyoung & karina video i was strictly against writing for marianne cuz it broke my sentimarsha heart.,. then i was born anew and found a different path
reader meets marianne when her aunt takes her to the city to go check out shops (they first meet specifically at the louvre) (did the louvre dven exist back then) (pls dont crucify me for historical inaccuracies this would never happen in an actual fic id write okay)
so basically childhood friends to lovers (reader asks marie if they can exchange letters after a fun convo at the louvre and she says yes without thinking abt all the trials she has to go through to hide her penpal-uationship from her father) (her auntie teases her abt it alot) (i imagine marie confesses when she enrolls into that all girls academy)
aw. like. it's city girl x sheltered girl yuri. i mean yes i know it has nothing to do with what sparked this revelation (wonyoung & karina nun yuri) but i would love to see the conversations agnes and marie would have about reader. similarly I'd like to see the drama that unfolds when mariannes father finds outs
warnings: gn!reader, fluff, major spoilers for ch9 (folie et déraison), spoilers for floor it! to the golden city & ch8 (tristes tropiques)
Despite her provocative nature, Anjo Nala finds it hard to express her feelings to you. For years she saw love as a means to an end, a disguise for lust and a tool for control. Her not only being in love but also choosing to admit it is a reminder that her experiences at the Hari estate and the heartfelt home will never fade, as she'll always carry on that learned love no matter the hardships she faces.
Of course, that doesn't mean she's entirely useless towards matters of the heart— skilled in the art of romancing and seduction; she still remembers the fairytales her sister would lull her with, and the elders of the heartfelt home have had many stories; some far too detailed.
Surrounded by love for the better part of her life I'd think that Nala would have a simple, sincere confession. She'll whip up something you're sure to love, set the mood to something light and calm then break the news to you.
Fanfare makes it seem as though her feelings are a facade, and sometimes, in the back of her mind, she wonders if she's just being eager to please. Your best option is to answer in the moment before Nala spirals— being too transparent is a little overwhelming for someone who had to bend to every other will for survival.
In conclusion: Nala is a natural born romantic, and her background only seems to help her nurture that trait of hers. You'll see this first hand in her confession through the dishes taught to her by the elders she once knew. Though, no matter how confident or suave she might seem, there's most definitely a swarm raging in her mind. It's ideal to reply before the idyllic moment is ruined.
Contrary to popular belief, Recoleta isn't the type to fall easily. But, when she does, it's quite obvious. She's always been a romantic through and through and her feelings for you only serve to amplify that part of her. Expect letters and poems with mostly unintentional subtle declarations of love woven into them.
Ever since the destruction of the rise and fall of sanity, Recoleta has only changed slightly. One everlasting trait of hers is her determination and ambition to write. This isn't inherently a bad thing, so to speak, but it does play a huge role in how she sees this world. To her, the world is her oyster— I guess that makes you her pearl then, huh?
After realising her feelings for you weren't quite platonic, she'd write her feelings down. After all, for a writer there's no better therapy than your pen and paper! But I don't think she'd make moves to court you until she's given an ultimatum. This fearless knight of literature still has some doubts about you, her and her feelings. After her doubts and fears are resolved or if she's given no choice she'll immediately make her move.
A passionate, tender confession is Recoleta's style. I don't think she would write her confession down, but rather blurt her feelings in the heat of the moment. She's not the most prepared when it comes to matters of the heart, mainly because she wants to tell you these things as soon as possible. Thankfully, her natural dictionary allows her to express her feelings in as much detail as possible so you can expect every part of her love for you to be described.
This poor, misunderstood, failed poet still has her qualms— how can a ghost born from their own desires love earnestly? However, this larger than life feeling consoles our dear author and gives her the faint idea that she must've changed quite a bit. So just as she loves literature, she'll love you.
Our resident aerospace fanatic Hissabeth would choose to ignore her feelings until further notice. Not because of some sort of inferiority complex, but because of her research, dreams and circumstances. Though, when you share a consciousness with 8 other people pining can be quite the challenge.
Estelle would be the first to catch onto her sister's feelings, but Maxim would be the one to formally bring it up. From then on there'd be a debate as to whether or not pursuing a relationship with you would hinder their progress and depending on the outcome, expect an impromptu trip to a local diner with Hissabeth alone.
I don't think Hissabeth would do much to plan her confession, most of the period between the debates conclusion and her date with you is spent convincing her siblings (mainly Estelle) that she doesn't need to do anything over the top to tell you her feelings. I mean, if you like her, shouldn't you be fine with her acting as herself?
She'll make sure to drop her siblings off wherever they'd like, ask you out to your favourite place and tell you her feelings plainly. If you don't reciprocate her feelings Hissabeth will assure you that this won't hinder any research, and if you do? Lets say you're in for a lot of questioning. From both her and her siblings.
What a few of these questions entail are: "on a scale of 1-10 how would you rate this date?", "what made you come to that conclusion?" And finally, "what makes you think you have the guts to take our little cornichon!?"
Don't worry, the last question only serves as a formality. Someone has to play the role of the strict overbearing family member that intimidates the love interest around here!
boothill sickfic where you're his mechanic and he caught a virus that fucked him up and made him slightly delirious. the way you take care of him makes him feel like he's almost human.... but he always ends up being reminded by his robot bits ((the 'non human' bits)) when he remembers your profession. that you're a mechanic, not a doctor. that he's a cyborg, not a human.
after that, he'll start to call you 'doc'. at first glance you'll think he's just teasing you for the incident, but when you take a closer look it's bc you're one of the closest things he has to humanity. so everytime he calls you that it's an unknowing affirmation to his humanity (sometimes he does just say it to tease you but whatever)
synopsis: creation outlasts it's creator; you're a prime example of this.
Yae Miko had always found you strange for an oni. The way you held yourself; the way you'd rather be tucked away crafting new instruments instead of weapons, your passion for the arts — it was a stark contrast to the oni she had met before.
Perhaps that's what drew her to you. Your love.
Years later, Yae Miko has learnt to live life without your constant presence. The Guuji Yae doesn't reminisce; wallowing in grief doesn't suit her. but how can she, Miko, be expected to not have at least one passing thought when shown your shamisen— the one that was gifted from you to her, the one that's been catching dust up in the shrine's storage.
She can't help but think that if you were here, you'd have given her an earful about how such beauties are meant to be treated with care and adoration.
She can't help but think about the night you gave her such a gift.
She remembers that starlit sky like it was yesterday. You were drunk out of your mind— yelling out random melodies at the moon like an old dog until you had the grand idea of letting the great Yae Miko be your band mate. It was a childish play really, one she didn't expect to be caught up in. Guess your charms surpassed sobriety.
Passing her your shamisen, you hummed a playful tune. Even if her skills were subpar at best it didn't take away the wonder from that night. With no one but the earth, moon and stars as your audience you took it upon yourself to let go. Made sure she let go. To let go of all your worries and troubles and make this the best night known.
It was a memorable night indeed. Her fingers graze her lips; she can't quite erase the taste of you.
kujou sara with an obnoxious kitsune!reader that teaches her to be a little more selfish, to live instead of endlessly carrying out missions like a programmed dog.
the brain worms hath caught up to me and i love this dynamic. like, you're the coffee intern of the shrine, meaning yae just sends you out to the city every once in a while to do miscellaneous tasks. this time yae has requested you to get an order of fried tofu noodles though your eyes catch a peek of someone's menu, and suddenly your cravings get the better of you.
hijinks ensue, you've just played into someone's fantasy about being a great yokai guardian of the grand narukami shrine, and get some offerings (mora! yippie!) out of it. you order both grilled unagi fillet and yaes fried tofu noodles.
your schemes continue until a certain general catches wind of a scammer running through the streets of inazuma city, parading around and acting as a great yokai guardian. it's safe to say she wouldn't have trouble finding out who the scammer in question was; shrine maidens aren't commonly found in a market.
though, catching this thief is proving quite the challenge. everytime she heads your way—in your vicinity—you break into a sprint. even if your scams have reached it's end, you still haven't compensated the victims, so she's still looking for you.
months pass, the victims in question have received enveloped mora in the mouth of a fox. is this your way of compensating? she ponders.
there hasn't been any other kitsune in the city other than yae miko, and there haven't been any suspicious looking people at the tailor requesting a shrine maidens outfit.
perhaps the next time she pays a visit to the grand narukami shrine, she'll ask about you.
++ i think this is how I'd like it to go, believe it or not, my first draft on this idea (about 5ish months ago?) had reader being caught immediately and trying to waffle her way out of questioning (i couldn't write past it, there's no way kujou sara wouldn't be able to stop the conversation from derailing) but there's something abt kujou sara seeking you out, something SHE would like to do. like... she's asking yae miko about the shogun and her wellbeing, yae's responses are obviously halfhearted... that is until kujou sara is about to bring the conversation to an end. she remembers that scammer from a while back, and asks about it. about you. THEN yae's tuned in like "why does the general wanna know abt some random shrine maiden?" and then kujou sara spills the beans......, now u have not only been demoted to the statue scrubber, you have immense calf pain from walking up and down the shrine and to the forest.
and then reader holds a grudge against kujou sara...., so the next time u see her, instead of running you scold her for snitching.
then kujou sara stands her ground, saying that you shouldn't have been scamming people in the first place.... and then well. I'll write abt that later
(didn't know where to say this but i think the reason reader would run is because of the way yae miko talks about her. "a general with a stick up her ass." that'd make you think she's the no nonsense, cold and hard type. and noone doesnt exactly wanna get sent to prison, so..... ur only option is to run and never look back ig??!)
synopsis: in which furina hopes that you like her the way she likes you.
tags: friends to lovers, confessions
if you asked furina "what is love?" there are one of two answers you'll get.
either a more philosophical take, a hushed or mumbled "I wonder.. can love truly be explained?" or; her usual go-to, "love is an intense feeling of deep affection." a phrase stolen from one of the many books in the opera epiclese, not that she'll admit it.
so, as you can see, furina isn't well acquainted with the concept of love. not that she hasn't been curious— of course she has! furina has participated and attended countless plays; musicals, movies and concerts with themes of love, both romantic and platonic.
but now, now that she's feeling it for the first time, furina thinks that she should've been warned about how hard the self-doubting aspect, or the constant regrets and hyper awareness of her shortcomings would hit her.
thoughts like "why did i do that?" and plenty of other variations keep appearing in her head, at this point, furina would rather stop having these feelings, it's messing with her mental health.
but would she? the feeling of love— it's changed the way she lives now. sure, she could just push the blaming-thoughts into the back of her mind, but you? no. she's always thinking of you now.
at first it started out as short mentions in her mind, things like "wasn't y/n talking about this the other day?" or a little "oh, y/n would like this." and then, slowly but surely, she thought about you when she started her day with no one but the morning birds as her witness, she keeps thinking about you in the dead of night, when it's high time that she go to bed.
not that she doesn't like that— even the thought of you brings her joy; looking back on memories of when the two of you first met, how awkward the air felt at the time, and how kind you were despite that.
you were but a neighbour who wanted to make her feel at home and well adjusted, and she was just the new resident who didn't have the energy to socialise at the time.
but the more times you met, the more times you struck up a conversation with her, the more times you invited her into the comfort of your home, the more times you helped her with meals, she only fell deeper in that pit called love.
the bond between you had strengthened, you weren't just the nosy next-door neighbour anymore, and she wasn't just the girl who had one too many bags of pasta— you are y/n, a person with just enough resilience to weasel your way into her life, and she is furina, someone who had finally reached the light at the end of the tunnel.
now, when furina looks into the mirror and asks herself "what is love?" motivated by whims alone, she already knows what her answer will be. y/n.
having these feelings is nice enough, I mean, it's alright..
..but, if she were actually with you, wouldn't these feelings be a whole lot more pleasant to have? knowing that her feelings were reciprocated would definitely help fill the hole in her heart when she realises that she doesn't know if you even see her that way.
do you also dream of the dates you two could have? do you also get flustered for a hot minute, when your hands make contact? do you look at the sun rising, thinking that this moment would be complete if she stood by you?
furina hopes that you like her the way she likes you.
but what good can hoping do? shouldn't she be taking action by now? yes, that's what she would be doing, except there's been something holding her back. that's right— doubts have crawled back into her mind right when things have been reaching its peak.
I mean, even if you do end up liking her, what if the relationship ends quicker than she'd like it to? if someone doesn't pay attention to the other, when someone prioritises something else over their partner, if someone ends up chasing the comfort of another person— all these things could happen, and furina knows that the heart break will feel all the same.
and those are the thoughts she has when she's being more positive— what if you don't like her? furina doesn't want to think about the expression that'd be on your face, she knows that it'll haunt her deepest dreams. if your friendship just ended right there and then just because she had the wrong idea, she wouldn't like that one bit.
furina isn't one to ask for help, she can get most things done herself, but reassurance is something that best comes from another person. which is why furina finally accepts an invitation to one of navia's tea parties.
"so, you're not sure if this person likes you? that's why you won't confess?" navia says in a matter-of-fact tone, however, a bit of humor sinks into her words.
furina nods, letting out a slight noise of agreement after a sip of her earl gray tea.
she speaks, but the chuckle she tried to hide slips out for a second, letting furina sit there, eyes lidded, she speaks out. "is my situation really that laughable navia?" she sits her cup sits on the table.
her hand waves in dissent, "no, no! i swear, i wasn't laughing at you— it's just," she pauses for a moment, thinking of the right words, perhaps? "my view on the whole, confessing your love, thing was that taking that risk of not knowing if the other loved you, is also a way to show your love?" furina tilts her head in confusion, this leads to navia once again trying to explain her point of view.
her hand reaches her chin in thought, "what I mean to say is, you should confess your love now rather than pulling a whole investigation— sure, you will be feeling doubts, but doesn't that happen for every other decision? if you wait, the pain of not knowing whether or not your feelings are reciprocated is sure to impact you, and doubts will only grow with time." it looks like navia is pretty happy with her explanation, furina on the other hand has an estranged emotion painted on her face.
she almost yanks the tea cup off the table, taking one long sip before setting it down one last time. "I think I get what you're saying.. that doubts are things that people will always have." her thumb kneads into her fingers, "I'll confess." she almost whispers this. it's not everyday you get to see the furina de fontaine so quiet, navia guesses thats just the effect love has on people.
unfortunately for furina, navia has quite the ears, "well, good luck to you! let's hope for the best, hmm?" she crosses her legs, awaiting a response. furina thanks her, maybe she'll do this again sometime— the tea tasted quite delicious.
if you were to ask furina what love is, she says it's the feeling she gets when she eats a meal, knowing that you're beside her.
this has been one of the few times that she has invited you into her home, but sharing a meal with her has been nothing new— when she first became a resident in her now home, after you two had become acquainted, furina used to overestimate the amount of pasta to pour, to not waste this particular meal, she thought of giving you a bowl to serve as a thanks.
knocking on your door with both of her hands occupied proved difficult, she opted to juggle one plate in the corner of her arm, hoping that you'd open the door quick enough. once you did, eventually, open the door she shoved a bowl in your hand.
seconds later, furina found herself sitting at a table with you on the other side, enjoying a bowl of her pasta, day after day this quickly became a trend in your schedules.
today, the two of you once again participate in this newfound routine, sitting opposite of each other, though, something's a little different.. while you're having a go at the plate set in front of you, furina has her fork twirling the pasta around as she stares at you.
you notice.
the bits of food in your mouth are quickly swallowed— just slow enough to not cause a flurry of coughing, "aren't you going to eat?" you eye at her food, then at her.
"I— I am!" she sputters for just a bit, getting her act together these days proves troublesome.
your eyebrow raises, she's acting more different than usual. "well, I like what you whatever added to the sauce, it tastes sweet and spicy, nice combo." you move past this thought, maybe she's dealing with something.
"hm, of course you like it, did you not expect me to be extraordinary at cooking too? you've tasted my cooking, it shouldn't be surprising that you like this!"
soon after, an uncomfortable silence fills the room as the two of you poke at your respective plates of food— clearly nobody is paying attention to how it tastes.
you open your mouth— the stillness was too much to bear, dinners with furina are normally never this awkward!
though, it looks like furina beat you to the punch.
"there is a reason, as to why I've invited you here today." she keeps the usual loud tone, this time, with a little more meaning.
furina toys with her food a little more, her eyes? they're now focused on you.
she purses her lips, all the doubts keep coming back, bit by bit. but she's committed— furina told her self that she'd confess today. she will confess today.
"I..."
lengthy pauses are to be expected with furina, it's not everyday that she has to profess her love for someone, "I'm in love you."
now that's definitely not what you expected.
she's quick to shush you, it looks like there's more to her unforeseen confession. "wait! hold on, before you say anything." her hands have long since left her plate, "I wanted to make sure you were comfortable before I said.. that. I'm not sure when this feeling started to appear, or if it was always with me, but I'll still cherish it nonetheless. please.. don't feel pressured to accept me or to answer me right now. just know that, I.. love you." furina's speech is far from perfect, too many pauses, way too vague, it really just felt like she word-vomited all her feelings out, but, nothing is perfect.
she isn't, you aren't, and neither is love.
let's ask her a question, what is love. well, furina would reply that yes, love is definitely a feeling, and that it can never be properly explained into words— too many things left out, new things always being added, if you asked her to compose an essay of all the things that she loves about you, she'd never be able to finish.
love is neverending, sure, it might dim, it might even transform into obsession, but that feeling you felt, the one where you had just discovered what it felt like, that memory will be engraved into your mind, your heart and soul.
so, when you tell her I love you as your reply, know that she's found an indescribable level of peace and love for you.
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