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atheliasnotebook · 9 months
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im delusional and have been roleplaying with ai’s, should i make posts that from the ai and re-edit them to be much more cohesive?
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atheliasnotebook · 11 months
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GRADUATION: T-MINUS 55 HOURS AND 42 MINUTES…
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atheliasnotebook · 11 months
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why are my moots getting sick all of a sudden NOOOOOOOOOO 😭💔
ive always had bad immune system its not just uuuu
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atheliasnotebook · 11 months
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im gonna die i have this cold i’ve had since tuesday
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atheliasnotebook · 1 year
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im considering either stopping all activity or revamping to move genshin to the archives and focus on star rail and obey me content
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atheliasnotebook · 1 year
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YOOO!
REQUESTING SOME MODERN AU! GOROU X READER<3
kazuha teases gorou so much about his crush on the reader that gorou ends up flirting with her and once he gets home he realizes what he did and aagehebej im sure u can do the rest <3
sometimes he…
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pairing: gorou x reader both of you are students at an academy set between the districts of liyue, mondstadt, and inazuma named the "teyvat district academy
tags: (minor) angst (to) fluff, confession, teyvat metro au
sometimes he just stares at your back in the middle of class. he can’t help it—he was forced to sit behind you. but it’s fine—even if you were taller than him, he… didn’t really mind.
sometimes he passed by you in the halls, where he would be walking with Kokomi and Kazuha, and he would see you carrying an unreasonable stack of papers back to the teacher’s lounge—and he says to both of his best friends that he promised to help out a friend. the two of them watch him run off, his tail wagging helplessly and knowing that he’s head over heels infatuated with you.
and Gorou, who knows that you used to be interested in the men (whether it be the retainer or the head) of the Kamisato family. he knows that he didn’t stand a chance.
but little did he know that Kazuha, voted as one of the “Most Likely to Become a Poet” in your school’s yearbook—was actually trying to set both you and him up. albeit, he gave up on trying to confess to you a long time ago—but Kazu believes that if love is love, boundaries shan’t stop a person. and so, you adored and loved one of the cutest and all-time favorite students in school, while he abandoned and forgotten the idea of loving you, and thought of you as a great friend instead.
and he made himself believe that it was only friendship as well. but… his actions tell everyone otherwise. you see—people are curious if the vice president has a crush on anyone. everyone can tell how well Bennett and Fischl’s chemistry is, along with the relationship between the two men of the Kamisato family (of whom, to you—seem to have much more going on then what is actually displayed). but Gorou? he’s so busy—does he ever have time?
nonetheless, as he continues to help you when he has the chance, and spend both before and after school with you—he manages to fall weak to your charms and end up happily wagging his tail and perking up his ears—along with a sweet smile painted over his face with a dusting of pink on his cheeks. Kazu thinks that you both are adorable, however—one fact stands: he is god awfully oblivious to both you, and most of all… himself.
so, there’s this one time after the last class before the weekend in the winter where he’s wrapped himself up in a scarf that you made him for the holidays (in his favorite colors). he puts it away during classes, so when he took it out—the first one to take notice other than Kokomi, was none other than Kazuha himself. Kazu and Gorou had the same class, while you and Kokomi were in separate classes. you packed up your things hastily, walking down the hallway and up the stairs to walk home with Gorou—who also happens to be your neighbor.
“general!” Kazuha calls out his nickname for his friend just as he’s packing up and taking out his scarf. you were there with the boy of your dreams as the reknown poet called forth his compatriot.
“ah, yes kazuha? is there something you need help with?” Gorou asks as he takes out the scarf and wraps it around his neck.
“nothing,” Kazu smirks. “I just noticed your scarf… who is it from?”
“it’s from (y/n)! they actually made it themselves!”
“oh, is that so~?” kazu grins and chuckles to himself. “it’s such a pleasant surprise to find you wearing such a present from your lover.” and kazu is fully aware how much he’s teasing gorou—along with you, who’s blushing so much watching from the classroom doors.
“kazuhaaa! you know they don’t—“ he says, being interrupted by the other.
“winter is almost over—and with the falling snow that dances upon the gently-iced flowerbeds, your chances dwindle just as much as the days approach toward spring do—“
“kazuha, what do you—“
“picture this image, general—you are walking along the gardens in both the Inazuma and Liyue districts of Teyvat, specifically the Ritou Botanical Gardens—invited by the person made for you, bound to you by the strings of fate… (y/n)—“
“k-kazuha!” the dog-boy is visibly blushing. “i-it’s not like that, i…” and you’re blushing too, smiling and deciding in that moment to let gorou’s suffering end.
“gorou!” you call, a smile on your face as your cheeks are slightly pink.
“a-ah! (y-y/n), we were just—“
“talking about the weather, how lovely it would be for indoor studying,” kazu interrupts, winking and turning around to retrieve his own bag.
“(y/n), let’s just go—!” gorou drags you along by the hand, clearly flustered and embarrassed.
“gorou—is something the matter?” you’re playing dumb. hilariously dumb, hoping the flustered puppy doesn’t catch on.
“nothing at all! don’t worry about a thing, kazuha is just musing and rambling again…”
“well, i ramble just as much as he does, if i’m going to be honest…”
“yeah, but the difference between you and him is that i’m really happy when you ramble. you talking makes me smile and—“ gorou realizes what he just said.
“and i think you make me really happy. happier than i normally am.”
sometimes he’s angry—and that’s when someone decides to bring harm to you or Kazuha. and sometimes he’s flustered, thanks to you and Kazuha. and sometimes he regrets things that he says, but… this time, just like how his poetic companion spoke of the dancing snowflakes on the winter landscape—he wishes to dance with you throughout the snow, and maybe even the rest of the seasons.
he blushes, keeps stammering in his sentences before he inhales in, walking out of the building with you and nervously taking your hand in his, shaking and trembling with anxiety and yet, a smile on his face.
“(y/n)? w-would you be interested in… g-going out to the Ritou Botanical Gardens with me…?” he asks, and you smile and nod excitedly. man, he really owes the poet a favor for this one.
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atheliasnotebook · 1 year
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hi! i saw some of your fics and idk the way you write is nice and comforting. so i'd like to request something, i feel like it will be in good hands. but please, delete my ask if it makes you uncomfortable in any way, alright ?
TW: depression + suicidal thoughts. pls stop here if you feel bad and don't force yourself ⚠️
can i request a kaeya and/or diluc with a gn-reader who's depressed (for vague reasons, no need to specify) and has suicidal thoughts that just don't go away ? i really need some comfort and these men to hug me. but again, i understand if you don't want to do it, so don't worry!
a drink for your thoughts, and a captain as well
pairing: kaeya alberich x reader
tags/warnings: angst (suicidal thoughts), comfort
kaeya—the charm of the city besides diluc—is truly something. and perhaps it’s due to the amount of times he’s walked into Angel’s Share to discuss matters of all sorts—whether it be for business, connections, or consolidations, both economical and emotional.
in the case of you—yes, in fact, it’s emotional. after the amount of times you’ve went to bennett, albedo, and other members of the knights and the guild—you said that consulting higher-ups wouldn’t be necessary.
that is, until kaeya came across you sitting alone at a table in the corner of Angel’s Share, writing something in a notebook as if it were the last thing you had left. kaeya, taking a sip of his drink, was caught off guard and yet—was amazed. how someone like you would have the lack of sense to: a) get drunk, b) write, and c) do it after the evening had broken into the night.
and on times where you’ve passed out—he’s not one to be generally snoopy of those who are emotionally distraught, especially you, who he’s already known for so long since childhood—but never necessarily interacted with.
taking one good look at your notebook, gently scooping it from under your arm and flipping through pages. at one look, writing is scrabbled messily—some are just rambles and words in bold talking about how worthless you are, or how much you’re sorry (and at that, kaeya wonders what you’re sorry for). he loved you—and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you for so long after he found out about… this. he thought that you would find it to be some elaborate joke—and maybe even hurt yourself in some way after it. alternatively, you would think that he’s lying to you to complete a mission—it doesn’t seem too out of character for kaeya.
how long has it been circulating in your head for? his heart aches bit by bit, knowing that you’re suffering and not understanding for what reason(s) it is for. and one day, he carries you—drunk and passed out—back to his home between the headquarters and the tavern, laying you down on your side. he sits there, beside you—gently breaking as he gets on his knees and takes your hand, bringing it to his forehead and inhaling shakily in.
and you awaken.
“kaeya?”
“good evening—“ he says as he breathes in once again to find a normal composure. “how do you feel?”
“like literal death—“ you meant that more in a sense of your semi-drunken hungover state rather than actually wanting to die.
“drink this, it should help you feel better,” he says while holding a glass of water to your lips. and not feeling the strength to do many things, you simply drank.
after taking a sip, minor panic ensues. it’s like miniature limbo has erupted into an explosion of chaos, before you ask “where’s my notebook?” and shortly following after, a breath of relief as you see the captain holding it out to you, with your pen neatly tucked between the cover and the pages.
“i’m sorry,” he says, trembling with his short-stated apology.
“for what?” you ask as you take another sip of the glass that kaeya’s holding.
“for not noticing sooner—i didn’t think it was so bad, judging by the way you always talked to me about it…”
kaeya stands up and puts the glass on the table, before taking you into a hug—gentle enough so he doesn’t hurt you, but close enough to that you can feel his warmth and his semi-cold hands.
and you cry—thinking about all the reasons why you hated talking to other people about this kind of thing, along with the reasons that made you hate yourself to this multitude in the first place. and you know that even if kaeya’s here, the thoughts won’t dissipate. and kaeya, looking at you crumble—knows better than anyone that with time, things get a little better. watching you fall apart lets him know that you’re willing to trust him, but more importantly, you’re allowing him to help you through the blankets of heavy thoughts that weigh you down.
“tell me what worries you, and i’ll be here to help you with whatever you need. and there’s no need to worry about scaring or burdening me—if anything, i’m the one you should be scared of—but here you are, sitting down with me. so, cry—i’m here now, and you don’t have to do this alone. remember…” he says as he clutches the cloth of your shirt and brings you closer. “our relationship isn’t strictly business, alright?”
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atheliasnotebook · 1 year
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honeydewed reaffirmations
character(s): tighnari, kaeya, diluc, childe, heizou, kazuha, albedo (bonus: thoma ft. the kamisato family)
⭐ note: reader is gender neutral unless specified otherwise! ⭐
tags: fluff, comfort, teyvat metro au, fun facts about common ailments (don't worry, they're just common things, they aren't described in horribly gross details),
warnings: mentions or minor display of blood (childe, kazuha), pet name: "baby" (childe), pet name: "lovey" (kazuha), story spoiler that's been alternated to fit the teyvat metropolis au (kazuha), pet name: "pumpkin" (albedo), pet name: "babe" (thoma)
author’s note: guys i've been suffering the past month with infections and colds, and in the month that I've descended several layers of pain as if they were the circles of hell, I've officially become a certified heizou simp. god, it's so clear who I clearly favorite more than the other in this post...
it's that time of year when everyone falls ill (despite the care that they give to their bodies). so, how does your boyfriend for you in such dark times?
🌳 tighnari [acute otitis externa] (infection in outer ear canal)
"and what did i say about using q-tips everyday?" the fox says reprimandingly in a soft tone and disappointedly sighs with drooping ears as he pats down on his bed, pointing to your head before pointing to the pillow.
you couldn't help it. for the past few days, it felt really good to scratch those itches at the very start of your earhole every so often. and sometimes you scratched it too hard, so you took another one of those cursed white cotton-tipped sticks and wet it with water—only to dive back in and "soothe" the pain. and eventually, you decided to scratch deeper into your ear, but not more than 3 centimeters in.
little did you know that not only would you heavily irritate your ear's canals by doing that, but allow any outside bacteria to say "hey, that part of (y/n)'s body is looking extra scrumptious today..." for the most part, 'nari noted that it's not good to use q-tips every day, and in general, never at all. all it really does is push your earwax further down your ear. sure, feels nice—but it's more harm than good.
your ear is on goddamn fire. your earlobe is comparable to the color of the packaging on a red bottle of painkillers resting atop the bedside table, and you swear that the pressure building in your ears will make your head explode. understanding the gestures of tighnari, a well-known pharmacist in the sumeru district of teyvat metropolis, you lay on your side and adjust your head on the memory foam pillow in his apartment. trying not to focus on the pain, and rather, on the fox-fellow's question, you answer with the acknowledgment that you, in fact, shouldn't have used so many or scratched at your ear with them.
the pharmacist pulls out a tiny bottle of eardrops, which he holds with only his pointer finger and his thumb as he quickly unscrews the cap.
"i made this prescription with the orders given by your doctor. it's not going to burn, but it may feel like your ear is going through a freezer. you will need to lay with it in your ear for quite a few minutes..." 'nari explains while scooting closer as he adjusts his grip and leans forth, with one hand on the bottle and the other resting near your face on the sheets.
"hold still for me. if it makes you feel any better, you can hold my hand."
crying from the headache, you close your eyes and sniffle as you embrace the cold droplets of medicine running down your ear canal and filling up the crevices of infection. for just a second, everything in your body feels just as cold as the droplets, and you're startled by how chilly it feels—you grip 'nari's hand for some support. although you can't see him through closed eyes, his fluffy ears droop slightly as he wrinkles his brows, just wishing for you to be in the least amount of pain possible.
"you're doing great," he nods, smiling and sighing with creased eyebrows as he wiped your tears away—while finally pressing a kiss to your forehead and caressing the top of your head with his thumb. "just make sure to heed my advice next time, and let me know if anything else begins to hurt, alright?"
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❄️ kaeya alberich [pyrexia] (fever (due to exhaustion))
he with sigh and chuckles. "you always complain how my hands are freezing whenever you want to hold them—but now you're begging for me to rest one on your head as if I'm some sort of deity?"
you groan out, weakly flailing a hand out in the direction of kaeya's voice to search for his hand in the darkness of your closed gaze. you're not in the mood for kaeya's ever-so-teasingly and slightly sly comments, and just want everything to be closer to the apex of human homeostasis. everything hurts. why is the world so mean? why is your work so mean? even kaeya is a little salty that they're giving you tasks with such harsh and quickly-upcoming deadlines while you're sick. everything feels too hot, even when you've got only one thin blanket draped over your body. mumbling out a few words, you can only express your desire for something cold.
"you can use my hand as a cooling pad..." he begins to explain with a chuckle, "... only if you can promise to stop staying up late working and drink water instead of drinking coffee or those energy drinks from the convenience store down the block."
while you groan in defeat, disappointment, and understanding, kaeya stands up to wash his hands in the bathroom sink of your master bedroom, quickly drying off his hands with a towel as he takes his seat once again on the same wooden stool that he just rose from.
"work can wait. that's why you have co-workers to help you when you're not there—" he reassures, cracking his hand before gently resting the back of his palm on your forehead to simply check your temperature, before, rotating it to cusp over the entire surface gently with his fingers. you melt in the freezing temperature of his body heat.
although you don't know what he looks like, you can feel the cloth of his loose lounge shirt tickle your wrist as he decides to readjust from the stool to sit on the bed right by you. you smile weakly at the touch and sound of the creaking frame, and he too reciprocates unknowingly to you. although he is cocky, he does it because he loves you. although it pains him slightly to see you in such a state, he puts the fact that you need to prioritize your health above anything else.
"make sure to let me know if my hand only ends up making you feel warmer. we don't want you to literally become a baked potato, now, do we?"
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🔥 diluc ragnvindr [myalgia] (muscle pain)
"come on, sit up. let's see... hmmm... did you injure yourself again carrying something, or did you fall asleep in an awkward position?"
whatever your answer is, if it is one of the two propositions from above—diluc would respond with:
"you know, if you keep doing that, you'll end up with worse posture than those wavy balloon men at the gas station," and then proceed to immediately come over and press his warm hands against the skin for 20 seconds to a minute before digging his thumbs and rubbing them in circles just the right amount into your skin to provide some sort of relief.
if it's not, whether it be stiffness in the neck from a hunch, soreness in the shoulders from awful posture, cramps from a period, diluc will always say:
"tell me where it hurts, then."
nope, not even a question of "where does it hurt," just a commandment and promise that he will do everything in his power to make you feel better. when your muscles ache that bad, he'll bring over a bucket of hot water and some small and smooth rags to drape over your affected area(s). diluc, although he's not a man for active conversation, can still analyze pain points from just a glance with you. there have many times when you just haven't complained about the problem, but he has taken note of the problem and mutters how much he doesn't want to keep seeing you in pain like this. being one of the richest men in the entire district (and is one of the most affluent in the city) has its perks, so he's thinking about finding one of the best people in the city to come and give you a diagnosis while hiring someone else to temporarily soothe the pain.
"i've yet to find a standby masseuse to treat you when I'm working. how about calling up...—what? you don't want a masseuse...?" he asks, tilting his head confusedly as he works his way into your muscles.
"... fine," he sighs, pulling you slightly closer to him and kissing your cheek. "but I can only massage you in the mornings and late evenings due to work. if your soreness becomes a problem during the high noon, so I can fetch an attendant to come and assist you."
"you have to let me know... can you do that for me?" he shudders, taking his arms and wrapping them around your waist while resting his head gently on your shoulder. "i trust you," he begins, his gaze fluttering to yours. "—but i cherish you too dearly to let you suffer with this hardship on your own."
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🐳 childe [minor abrasion] (accidental arm scrape)
"how did you manage your scrape your arm like this?" he asks, chuckling as he takes a gander at the underside of your arm—which trickles a stream or two of blood and bears some scraped skin that parts to the sides. "don't tell me you got into a battle with the table, now."
you shrug and shudder when he gently presses his thumb on the edges of your inflamed skin. again with the sly ass comments. in your defense, cleaning the dining room table shouldn't be that hard, but you tripped on accident and scraped your entire arm on the corner of the mahogany furniture piece. it stings a bit, but it isn't too deep in, thankfully. with care, he takes your other hand and replaces it with his—which is the one propping up your arm in midair.
"go take a seat on the couch while I go grab some bandages," he states before heading down to the hallway's bathroom. you oblige to his orders, adjusting your arm so your blood doesn't drip all over the floor as you approach the soft cushions in the living room.
ten seconds pass, and you hear the soft and nimble footsteps of childe's stride getting louder, looking at his white and gray-toed cloth socks contrast with the polished wooden floors of your cozy home. taking in the scent of his cologne, your eyes drag from the floor up to his hands carefully unwrapped a tiny alcohol towelette.
"it shouldn't get infected that easily, but it's better to be safe than sorry. grip my arm if it the pain is too much," he says, carefully dabbing at the edges to clean the dried red rivulets on opposite sides of your arm.
it doesn't hurt, and yes—you were cleaning to clear your mind before attempting to search for a newfound inspiration. after a few seconds of ajax occasionally pecking you on the wrist as he wipes, he inches slightly closer to the wound, focused on his handiwork rather than how your nails dig into his arm.
"i know it stings, baby. after i'm done bandaging you, I'll give you as many kisses as you want, sound like a deal?"
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🔎 shikanoin heizou [acute tussis] (coughing)
"oh my... that cough of yours is getting heavier by the day—you remembered to wear a jacket on our tour with the general at watatsumi, didn't you?"
nope. in fact, you did not bring a jacket. in fact, you're so used to the hot desert-like weather in the sumeru hiking area that you still feel like everything is always too warm in the fall—you just happened to forget to bring your coat on the one day you left from taking private investigation jobs near the city. curse the city weather for actually being on time. damn the water making everything cold. watatsumi park is so pretty, but you swear, getting sick like this is a hindrance to the agency, considering how being heizou's partner literally doubles and lessens the load for incoming cases. sure, maybe your co-workers are slightly happy that they'll actually get a chance to take a case before you and mister no. 1 detective do, but they still show an ounce of sympathy for your declining health.
although you are an investigator, most of your work is closer to a lawyer than an actual detective—a perfect match for the tenryou forces. it's a job that can doesn't require a lot of adventuring that may risk your health, and lets you help people in your own sort of way at the front.
your gaze drops to the floor with an awkward chuckle, following with a negative reply to heizou that you forgot to bring something warm. he sighs, clicking his tongue and creasing his eyebrows with a head shake.
"you may have done outstanding in your most recent court trial, however, you must not disregard your own body in spite of your achievements."
he sighs, pushing in a stray chair to the white marbled island counter while taking a small, plastic box out of the fridge with colored orange-beigesque paste inside—on the front, reading "miso paste."
"i'll get the water boiling so i can make some soup for the both of us. in the meantime, i will go grab a bunch of warm blankets so you can curl up on the couch and relax. if you want cough medicine, it's in the fridge. i recall how you didn't like the naku weed flavor from last time, so instead, i bought another bottle of a different flavor that i thought you might like at a shop in ritou."
the detective's ever-so-observant, as always. not even three days after you've returned, he's made sure to prepare some remedies so you feel like you can take on the world, like he knows you can do. he holds the stove dial for a second, listening to the ticking of the burner before rotating it just a smidge.
"when you feel as though your health is improving, we can go eat wherever you wish to celebrate of our accomplishments."
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🍃 kaedehara kazuha [orthocoronavirinae] (covid-19)
"please stay in bed," he mutters, approaching with a baby blue facemask covering half his face and a bowl—black on the outside, and red on the inside, all with an inversely-colored spoon to ladle your soup with.
he only says this since you tried to get up. your body feels heavy, and kazuha can tell just by the way you take off the blankets and walk like an old grandparent. it's like the world decided to take 250% of your body weight and split it between two invisible boxes, and then balance them on your shoulders. everything feels like a cold, but worse. but not worse than pneumonia kind of bad. sure, you're hacking up a congestion storm, sniffling as though you got out of the worst rain weather imaginable, and shaking like you've stepped off of dragonspine, but at least you're not whooping up any blood.
"you need not worry, lovey, please—lay down. i have called up your company and have already reported that you have covid. with the new work law in our district, they are granting you an extended paid sick leave," he explains, pulling up a tv tray and propping it up over your lap.
carefully, he blows on the soup through his mask (like a silly goose) and sets it down on a stone coaster. it smells slightly salty, but doesn't quite have that gentle scent like miso does. it's light, and has a couple of tiny seaweed squares soaked in the soup. chicken broth, perhaps? if you like eggs, the entire soup blankets ropes of the fluffily-stirred ingredient.
kazuha's love language is through his gestures. when he was homeless after escaping from the tenryou police for a crime he didn't commit, he developed a more profound sense for appreciating the small gestures for others. although he had no home, strangers in smaller towns or standalone homes were more than happy to house the wandering fellow for a night from the storming rain. he loved all things about nature; however, it's much more difficult to appreciate the natural world in drenched clothes. so, thanks to that, he chooses now to reciprocate even the smallest things for you. started off with you kissing him on the cheek, and eventually, he would give you one back. if you brought him food one day, he'd bring your favorite dessert the next day on his way home from work.
and lately, you've been worrying yourself sick over your co-workers and the most recent project results that you must have not paid any mind to your coughing teammate in the elevator, even after they reported their illness. and more importantly, how does kazuha even remember the cell # and extension to contact your supervisor? you complain sometimes about how much work your boss (yae miko) is giving you, whether it's about marketing and calculations, printing, writing, or even cover art.
you smile, nodding and whispering a "thank you" before sinking the spoon beneath the food's surface. you watch the edges flow in (and if you like it, the fluffy egg strands) with a seaweed square. kazuha smiles back, takes his two fingers and presses them over his lips—kissing them before gently touching your cheek with the same digits. you giggle at the caution of his action, but also at his magnanimous gestures.
"hm? was giving you an 'indirect' kiss like that too goofy for you? if that happens to be true, I shall depart for just a moment to go grab you a small bowl of rice and the little mini-projector so we can watch some anime together, is there anything else you want?"
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⚗️ albedo [hemicrania] (migraine)
"hello, uh, it's me, pumpkin—" he mutters, quietly creaking the door open.
you whimper loudly at the blinding light that meets you, even when your eyes are shut tightly trying to try and rid of this stupid migraine that pounds at your head. this is your first time getting one in years—so why does it come to bite you in the ass on your only free day?
"i had no knowledge of what would be better for you... so, logically, i brought a couple of medicinal pills, along with an ice pack—which one would you like?"
"both," you curtly reply, wanting to cry from the pain. but actively draining your body of any water—especially from your eyeholes—would merely obliterate whatever sanity and pain tolerance you currently have left.
you hear his boots quietly across the floor, knowing that he's getting closer just from hearing the rustling of his soles up against the rug beside your side of the bed. although you can tell that he's right next to you, he places the back of his palm on your head, lifting and setting something glass on your bedside cabinet.
he hums observantly. quietly, he mumbles: "how much does it hurt?"
where do you even start? you can't even think, but if you were able to put it into words—it's like having awful tv static assaulting your eyeballs while you're getting slapped across the face repeatedly. why does your brain have to be "asleep," and not... like... your leg, or something?
"too much to even give a response, huh?" he asks, sighing sadly as he gets on his knees to kiss you on the forehead, before gently retracting back. "that's quite alright, then."
desensitized to other sensory effects, he whispers gently in your ear.
"let me know when you wish to take your medicine," he remarks, removing his hand as he puts the soft and icy jello-consistency receptacle atop your head. "squeeze or tap my hand, and I will be more than happy to help you take it, if needed."
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🧹 thoma ft. the kamisatos [syncope] (passing out/fainting) {dedicated to @mako-yaki}
"hey, uh, babe? you look like you're drifting in and out of sleep every other few seconds... do you want to take a break real quick?"
being a port worker is hard.
seriously, like, it's fall coming onto winter—and everyone's dressed too warmly. how is everyone gone? seven team members, and you are the only one left for commission. thoma and you are the only ones around. but... good thing you're with your boyfriend. you wouldn't have minded being alone, but knowing yourself—you would simply just be complaining the entire time. although he's on official business to check the quality of the newest shipment for Inazuma's winter festival has been shipped, you still smile despite your fatigue. you feel like falling, but your head feels lighter than air. why does the sky look brighter, but your hands look darker... whatever, you just need to hold out for another hour, and then you can take your off-days to sleep.
"uhm... earth to (y/n), are you feeling okay?—" he'd ask, before watching you drop your clipboard and collapse in the middle of the dock.
-//-
opportunely and untimely at the same time, it seems as though ayato and ayaka were coming in together from their separate businesses from different locations. as they spotted thoma, ayato spotted your swaying figure and how you kept shaking your head vigorously over and over (it was mostly to wake yourself up, but it seemed to prove otherwise).
ayato cocks an eyebrow in confusion.
"what are (y/n) and thoma talking about? is it about our request for mister zhenyu and calx's presence at the upcoming festival?"
ayato shakes his head, crossing his arms as his pure-refrigerator white coattails flap in the gentle sea breeze. "no, i asked thoma to check on the newest shipment of butter crab for tomorrow's feast. from the last time i heard, i put him in such a tight 'pickle' that not only could he buy any crab anywhere, but he also went hunting for the crab himself."
ayaka laughs as she folds her fan in, her eyelids closing as her lashes flutter, and her complexion flushes a very light pink.
"oh, you know him brother—as he says..." ayaka says, raising her hand and pretending to gesture a strong arm. "'if there's a will, there's a way!'"
"yes, he is quite the... character..." ayato remarks, keeping his eyes on your body, which sways ever so slightly. "ayaka, why does (y/n) look like they're about to fall over—" he inquires just a second too late as ayaka.
"babe!" thoma ignores your clipboard, but catches you on your descent down to the splintery wooden bolsters of planks, cushioning your fall carefully as he quickly hoists you into his arms.
ayaka stops in her tracks, while ayato comes running over, swiftly picking up the clipboard. he scans over it in a flash—questioning why all your team members have called out for the past week. ayato, flashing thoma a swift glance, checks your vitals without taking a second to interrogate or ask any questions. your heartbeat seems normal, but taking your palm in his hand, he feels a bead of your sweat trickle down his pointer finger. waiting about ten seconds, ayato huffs a breath and sighs a bit of relief.
"get them to the international trade association's guest room immediately. I'll be off to have a word with the harbormaster right now," he orders, nodding in unison with thoma, who resupports your weight while picking up his pace. as they run, thoma looks to ayaka. "milady, could you run ahead and let kurisu know that we're coming? prepare a couple of towels and fetch some extra pillows too."
"right!" ayaka says, speeding off in the direction of the trade association, while ayato speedwalks towards the ritou goods warehouse.
thoma, heart racing, and adrenaline rushing through his veins like the incoming afternoon tide, mutters through hasty breaths: "you'll be okay soon, (y/n)..."
[ ... ]
"hey..." you hear in your quivering consciousness from what seems to be a worried lady. everything's black... you probably should have paid more attention to your condition.
"shhh, don't be so loud... don't... them to wake..." you also hear, a familiar deep timbre resonating in a mixed quiet reminding whisper.
you groan, letting your eyes flicker shut and open for a couple of seconds, absorbing the time to blink. everything's so bright... and everything feels so soft... dazed, you note the light blue blob darker blue-headed blob dressed in white... pink, and bluer splotches painted among a brown and tatami-green backdrop, alongside a red, black, and white blob with what looks like low-resolution blurry hayneedles for hair.
"hello, (y/n)? how are you feeling?" you hear a female's voice pipe up. she shudders in the tone of her voice as she carefully holds your left hand in a soft towel.
"... who is that?"
"that's ayaka, babe. i'm thoma, and her older brother—ayato—is also here."
"... sorry, yeah... i knew that. i'm just... dizzy..."
ayato props a hand behind your back, and you realize that your feet and head are slightly higher than your torso. helping you up with careful deliberation, he smiles as he holds out a glass of water. "drink a little bit of water if you're going to keep talking."
carefully tilting the glass, you part your lips to slowly take in at least half the glass. hot meeting cold feels like heaven settling within your body.
"don't be sorry about something like this, we all care a lot for you! we're going to stay here until you are in a better condition to return home."
"i got your supervisor to suspend your activities for the next two weeks. hehe, they too will be suspended from their duties for the next two weeks."
"(y/n), we all want the best for you, so just let us know if you need anything," ayaka remarks, smiling as she watches thoma caressing your cheek to her right.
"please don't overwork yourself like this until you break. if you don't tell me next time, you'll break my heart."
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atheliasnotebook · 1 year
Text
𝐎𝐇, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋
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Time waits for nobody. Although they wish that they had just enough to properly say goodbye, the only thing they can hold onto is the bittersweet memories of you.
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑(𝐒): AYATO KAMISATO, ALBEDO, DILUC RAGNVINDR, SHIKANOIN HEIZOU
𝐓𝐀𝐆/𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): READER DEATH, ANGST, NO COMFORT, SLIGHT BODY HORROR (HEIZOU)
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▶ 【 HOW HE NEVER GOT TO SAY HOW MUCH HE TRULY LOVED YOU 】
When AYATO heard of your passing, he had only just gotten back from a long trip of arranging some negotiations regarding support for other noble houses. As the head of a prestigious organization, it was only natural to adopt skepticism with a hint of cynicality—for it is the only way to survive in the world of the rich. Yet, he had nurtured a respectable, yet amiable attitude between every one of the attendants. That’s why the news he received upon arrival was jaw-dropping—when he saw every single attendant and guard of the estate lined up with sunken expressions and creased eyebrows of amalgamated despondency and condolences. When he was informed, the only thing he managed to choke out was:
“Take me to them.”
Thoma and Ayaka—right by his sides, walked in with wildly different expressions, despite each of them holding their breaths. The two standing beside him inhaled deeply, hoping that what they would see wasn’t real—while the man in the middle stared and creaked open the doors, exhaled to brace the pain.
And yet, you laid there on a multitude of sheets and pillows, the colors of the quilts coincidentally reminding Ayato of your seemingly colorful personality. You had passed in your sleep, but to all three of the figures looking at you, she and he and he only wished that the life you had wasn’t so… short-lived. The lady had sobbed as Thoma took her into a tight hug, while Ayato had taken a knee and examined your features, thinking of your dignity and how much he treasured you as his lover.
The days, and the weeks, and even the months following your death—he craved to hear your voice. Whether if you’d be humming, mumbling something to yourself, or even talking to someone nearby—he replays the way you’d call his name and compliment him over and over in his head.
Although busy with the toils of work, it had never been so quiet. With a sigh, as he signed off on a contract, he muttered regrets with tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
“I love you,” he’d mumble, looking down at the paper as he talked to nobody—but rather, somebody who had passed long ago. Oh, if only he got the chance to truly tell you how much he loved you.
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▶ 【 FIRST DENIAL, THEN MANIA 】
RECOMMENDATION VIA @yourtippicalarsonist
When ALBEDO had found you, Kaeya was frantically trying to dig through the blankets of ice to pull you out of the sea of snow. The two of you were heading up to visit the alchemist and see how he was doing on his new project, but the avalanche that came and hit the both of you heeded no warning to its catastrophe. Off in the distance, he had heard someone calling your name, followed by his. The captain of cavalry, with huffed breaths and panic struck in his eyes, glanced at Albedo with a look that cried for help.
And for an hour they had searched for you until Albedo had found your hand sticking out from beneath the snow, covered in frost and pale with cold. He began calling for Kaeya as he began pulling you out from the land that sucked your vessel into it like a black hole, desperate to see you—no, to save you. For you were the only person that he learned to love, despite the fact that he didn’t show much emotion—particularly after receiving his vision. With every pull and tug, all while trying to be as gentle as possible with your body, they got you out, seeing how your lips had turned blue and snow had tangled in your hair.
“We have to get them to camp… there’s still a chance of saving them!” he exhaled the words, slinging his arm beneath your knees and supporting your back as he clings you tightly. He ran down the snow to retreat into his lab and begin setting you by the fire, laid down on his jacket.
ALBEDO had hope that he could save you. He kept the fire running every single day, upkeeping it regularly in hopes that you awakened. Yet, Kaeya knew that you were long gone from the moment the avalanche had hit, but he didn’t remind Albedo of that bitter fact. More than anyone, the painter should know better than anyone that you were gone.
But rather than a simple acceptance of your death, he was insistent on brewing a potion that could revitalize the recently deceased. First, it only was a curious thought that rapidly evolved into a sort of craze, followed by a mania and obsession of trying to save you. What is it that he truly craved from you? Your voice? What about the attention? The help you gave him in the lab? The kindness? No, he remembered. Romance.
It was only when Kaeya had shown up to snap Albedo out of his insanity that he had broken down, collapsing in a chair as he clutched the cloth right over his chest with his left hand.
“Captain,” he mumbles, sobbing silently as he squeaks out words without getting his stuffy-nasal tone stuck in the words. “I know. But could you at least let me try to save the person who taught me what it means to love?”
But eventually, through much talk, Albedo had budged and allowed the city to cremate you. Yet, that’s when his plans with the way he typically budgeted his finances went downhill. Most of it was all for paints and new canvases that he’d use to sketch and dance his brush across with wet and thick colors—all attempting to paint the beauty of your figure captured in your facial features, especially your eyes (because that was the part of your body he loved looking at most). He racked his brain over and over trying to find an image in his mind that could encapsulate the true nature of your beauty. Finally, he settled on an image most beautiful: a flower crown of Cecilia atop your ahead as you smiled with your (color) eyes sparkling beneath sunlight.
“My beautiful flower…” he sighs wistfully with a tinge of sadness, putting the small amount of gold paint mixed with your ashes to highlight the brightness of your complexion. Gorgeous, as always.
But despite how much your death racked him, he’d still continue to paint pictures of you every single week. After all—he believes that this is the one true way of preserving your beauty for all eternity, and until the day he dies.
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▶ 【 JUST A LITTLE MORE TIME 】
DILUC had known that you were physically weak, yet, decided to overlook your imperfections because he had adored you so dearly. T’was a day that your boyfriend was working at the tavern, and thus, meant another day you could use to surprise him. With pleading eyes and hands pressed together in a praying manner, you beseeched Elzer to ask him to prepare some grape jam and homemade bread as a surprise for Diluc when he got home.
Everything was faring well, and you successfully picked enough grapes and put the bread in the oven before collapsing, hitting the wooden-polished floors with a thud and an outcry. Elzer and Adelinde, startled by your seize, assisted you as you felt your body beginning to go limp.
Insisting on getting you back up to the ‘master’s’ room, you shook your head weakly. The breaths you took in were as comparably short to the amount of life keft in your voice. Immediately, with haste, Elzer requested his eagle to deliver a message to Mondstadt, hoping Diluc could receive word and come back as soon as possible.
Deep down, he probably knows that the Master would never forgive him for allowing you to go out and exert yourself this way.
… when Diluc retrieved the message, his eyes widened as he furrowed his eyebrows?
“What?” he asked, more scared than frustrated. What could have happened in the few hours that he was away?
Without an ounce of any pardon to his job, he yelled at everyone to leave, shutting the door as he hopped on his horse and began riding all the way back in the midday burning of the Mondstadt summer. The heat didn’t bother him beneath all his heavy coats and garments… instead, he kept muttering your name under his breath.
“______, ______, please be okay—“ he begged, a sense of relief washing over him as he sees the Winery come into vision as his steed clops over the dirt path and over the grass. Stopping directly in front of the front gate, he hopped off his horse, tossing the reins to a nearby attendant as he dashed into the house—not even bothering to take off his coat.
And there he saw you laid up against the kitchen counter sitting on the floor, weakly chuckling as you reached out for him.
“Darling,” he said, panting heavy breaths in between. “Darling, I’m here—“ he trembled, shaking as he ran his hand over yours, slightly sweaty from the haste he made getting over to you. The smell of grapes and fresh breas pierces the air and empty atmosphere of just the two of you. “What. Happened.”
“Oh… y’know…” you muttered. “I just wanted to prepare a surprise for you—“
You coughed, wheezing as you slowly replied with seconds in between each word.
“But I guess that didn’t go as planned,” you chuckled, closing your eyes as he gripped onto your hands tighter. “… did it?”
No, he thinks. “No,” he mumbled aloud, shaking you as he pulled you tight into a hug. It was… warm. And everything felt like a blanket wrapped around you during the cold of winter, despite the weather. It makes you… sleepy.
“Please, ______, darling, you have to stay awake—“ He sucked in a breath, hugging you tighter as he began to feel a hole ripping in his heart.
And he felt as you lifted your arms to cup his cheeks and press a kiss on his lips one last time, and watched painfully as your body fell limp in his embrace.
“No…” he whispered, tears pouring down his cheeks in silence as he holds you—looking at your smiling face.
If only he had more time. If only he were faster. If only he could trade the time that he has to give you a longer life. If only you could have more time. Maybe his time, he thinks, sliding a pan of bread into the oven on the anniversary of your death years later.
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▶ 【 YOUR SCENT STILL DANCES IN THE AIR, EVEN WHEN YOU'RE NOT HERE ANYMORE 】
SHIKANOIN HEIZOU, the No. 1 detective in Inazuma, is one of the smartest men in the entirety of the Tenryou’s ranks.
But, in his eyes, not smart enough to find the person who murdered you.
Upon returning home on an afternoon in the middle of the week, he called for you. “Love! I’m ho…” he’d begin saying, before realizing the door was unlocked, creaked open.
Now, with a scowl painted across his countenance, he’d stop moving, looking around for any hints of tracks. None went in or out the front door, but carefully, creaking the door open—he’d catch a whiff of the stench of blood. Realizing the connotation of this, he’d open the door… creaking it open painstakingly slow, hoping that everything is alright. Yep, that what he’s going to find it there is someone who wanted to pull a prank and leave a dead fox or the like hidden behind the couch.
He stared in horror, unable to rip his eyes away from the blood staining your clothes at your chest, and the drag streaks across the floor to put you in the entryway. The broken window, along with the handprints clearly dragged down the couch cushions and across the floor.
“Who did this to you?” he growled through clenched fists and blurry eyes, ignorant of the world around him as he got on his knees and held your hands in his.
Still… warm. Killed no longer an hour ago. Oh… man alive, if only he came to the house earlier to have lunch with you (like he said he would) rather than heading off to fetch a gift before he returned home. Maybe then he would have had a chance at apprehending this terrorizer of the people. If only he had…
“Halt!” said a guard standing behind him. He could feel the cold metal of the spear creeping onto his neck from just a few centimeters away. Then, proceeding that, he hears the voice of his co-worker.
Hesitation follows, before a clearing of the throat.
“Shikanoin Heizou. You are being detained and charged under suspicions of murdering (full name) ______ _______. Come along, anything said will be used against you during the investigation.”
The detective couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
With hiccups in his sobs and hyperventilation, he turned his head around as he still held your hands. He kept his composure seeing your deceased figure, but began crying when someone accused him of murdering his lover in cold blood. How could someone not fall apart? You were his partner. His friend. Lover. Other half, he would call it. How dare someone try to pin the blame on him?
“You know I would never kill them,” Heizou said, letting go of your hands as he put his own up in the air. “I loved them so much, why would I kill them…? You were with me when I was getting a gift for…” He would devolve back into his hiccups as he whispered your name uncontrollably.
The silence was deafening. And so was the walk down to the prison. The one in which hundreds of criminals were detained—for crimes similarly horrendous and mundane. Never in a million years would he imagine that he would end up wrongfully accused in this position—just like that Oni fellow.
… after the ordeal passed over, the case closed with Heizou being released, but some person coming forth admitting how they murdered you. Yet, in his heart; the detective knew that your killer roamed free, using this poor woman as a scapegoat for some reason or another.
Unable to continue sleeping in the house that the both of you shared, he would rent a room at an inn and lay awake at night, thinking of how you’d cuddle with him and doze off with him—light snores filling the air from the both of you. But every thought of you was replaced was the image of you on that fated morning, making him shiver and forcing his tears out to roll down his cheeks.
Smothering his face in the pillows, he’d sniffle and absorb the scent of the fresh cloth casing, reminding himself of the scent of you to put him to sleep for the next hour before heading off to work to chase your killer.
Even now, he still leaves his sheets to wash in the sunlight, just like you did when you tended to the house.
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© ATHELIASNOTEBOOK — DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, STEAL, REPOST, OR MODIFY ANY WORKS. TRANSLATIONS ARE ALLOWED, BUT PLEASE CREDIT THE AUTHOR AND ASK BEFORE TRANSLATING.
☚ BACK TO LANDING AND FIND MORE POSTS!
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: If you're interested in part two, please feel free to request to be on a taglist for it in an ask! Part two will include Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Thoma, and Xiao :)
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atheliasnotebook · 1 year
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hey, I really like your writing and saw that your requests are open(if I was looking at the right thing), so i was wondering if I could request a comfort drabble with Diluc for my friend? she's been struggling to keep up with her schoolwork(she does school online) and has been very stressed about it to the point of getting barely any sleep, and her family isn't helping or even trying to help, in fact they're making it worse and blaming her for her state. tysm in advance <3
breakfast is ready
pairing: diluc ragnvindr x reader
tags: angst (to) comfort, teyvat metro au
author’s note: I have not proofread this at all. Like, at all. I just saw the request and had some free time. I hope this enlightens your friend dear anon :) I know how it feels. Virtual school killed me too, and I needed to relearn topics for the SBAC testing today (and on Thursday).
it’s tiring. exhausting, even. you know—the constant smile to try and pretend that everything is fine. that smile where you feel it creeping in your teeth as it droops on your skin, you know, the one that makes it feel like you’re breaking apart with each word that falls from your lips.
and on top of that, your parents. your god damn parents, where—regardless of the relationship between you and them—they believe you are the laziest person for just being in the comfort of your room as you work on the assignments provided through your virtual academic courses. curse that writer’s block. curse that artist’s block. hell, curse all that unmotivation… and yet, you can’t do anything about it.
it’s hard to do school alone. but it’s alright—at least diluc, your neighbor that you’ve known ever since you were children, understands and guides you on the topics that you’re lost on. the president of your class in high school—always so popular with the ladies for being such a dashing man who was in charge of the esteemed company known as Ragnvindr Spirits, produced at the Dawn Winery down in the suburban areas of the Mondstadt District of the Metropolis.
oh, how enjoyable it is to pay a visit to dear diluc in the early hours of the weekend morning—of whom is alone at the house when you come ringing the doorbell. ah, he looks as refined and comfortable as ever.
“oh, hello (y/n), it’s been quite a while since we’ve last seen each other. please, feel free to take a step inside.”
you welcome yourself swiftly inside. no need for formalities now, but it seems as your handsome neighbor has grown up past his days of running around with kaeya and you with sticks in hands and pretending to play cops and robbers, pirates, or some other children’s game from the distant past.
you walk in, slipping off your shoes at the front door and gliding across the tile floor. once you enter the chambers of the general living space, you place the notebooks and other binders you’re carrying on the glass table carefully, making sure not to bump the arrangement of Italian Whites and other roses in a vase before throwing yourself onto the couch and curling up in the throw blankets.
strange. it was set out, but this time, Elzer, Adeline, nor any of the usual house attendants were present. your gaze wandered to the nearby entrances of the hallway for the guest rooms and the entrance to the dining area, where you constantly peered down the corridors to find someone that wasn’t… just diluc. of course, you’re not opposed to it just being you and your childhood friend. or rather, your your childhood friend who happened to be considered closer to a crush (maybe even a lover).
it was strange. the house, which always smells clean and pleasant, is filled with smell of fragrant meats and other scents… fresh bread? perhaps even something sweet that also lingers about the air as well…
“something is wrong,” he sighs, sitting down next to you—curled up in the warm blankets and looking to your notes, flipping through your small notepad as well—and reading the topics you desired to review with him. he mutters to himself quietly, feeling his heart tinge with a bitter pinch of sorrow. why is he playing stupid? he knew something was wrong the moment you walked through the door. the way you slumped your shoulders over and looked down at the floor as you wore a sweater with sleeves that run longer than your arms. the countenance of your face droops and outlines the bags under your eyes. “have you been sleeping well?”
what kind of question is that? of course you haven’t. and normally, you would answer him verbally, but all that you can do is shake your head no. it’s too tiring to say words. after all—everytime you have, your parents have remarked you as a lazy, unwilling, unmotivated, undriven disappointment of a child.
diluc creases his eyes—his eyebrows drooping as he scoots closer. why did he ask if your were sleeping well? he already knew the answer from how you’re curled up and don’t say a word to him, and the sudden visit after just a month and a half of never showing up or talking to him. you would… always talk to him… but nonetheless, regardless of how wounded he was from this thought that you didn’t let him know how much pain you felt, he clenched his fists together and cracked his bones, before relaxing and leaning on the back of the couch.
“are you okay?”
oh man, the blessing to hear those words from someone who actually cares. it hurts… damn, why is it so painful? and why are you happy even though the strands and threads that hold your heart together are thinning and barely holding together?
you’re crying before you even realize you are. it’s more of an instinctive choke, where diluc becomes worried and immediately pulls you in for a tight hug. how uncharacteristic for such a stoic man… he’s better with reassuring you with words. yet, more importantly, the embrace is comforting. not tight to where it feels suffocating, but feels firm enough to convey that he’s never going go let you go until you do first.
and poor diluc is wracked by such a sight. his exterior composure is quite impressive, but where his soul remains, he wishes to hold and comfort you—and be the only one who can do that, since your parents don’t seem to want to be that comfort for any reason.
“cry all you want,” he whispers as he readjusts you, resting your head in the nape of his neck. “i will always be here for you, my darling (y/n).”
darling? who? it takes you a second to just listen and mentally do a double take. ah, for how long has he wanted to say that to you, he can no longer remember. yet, the confession feels… actually, you’re not sure how to react to the initial confession. your sobbing stops for just a second, and you breathe in before exhaling halfway through your nose—and proceeding to exhale the rest through your mouth due to congested sniffles.
“i’ll be…” he smiles, wiping the tears away and caressing your cheek with his right hand. “i’ll help you once you are ready.”
his heart is practically beating out of his chest. in fact, he can hear both heartbeats from the only two people in the house, holding them in his hands practically. but he… finds a smile. it’s not that he was afraid to tell you, it’s that he was afraid that the time wasn’t right.
“once you’re… done crying—“ he continues, pulling you in closer and more comfortably. “come eat with me. it’s been a while since we’ve had a meal—and at that, one together. you can cry, and once you’re feeling a little better, we can eat and drink some water—and i can help you with the topics you don’t understand. does that sound… like a plan?”
you nod your head.
“i’ll provide you with whatever you need until you feel like you’re alive again. until then, shall you seek comfort after your tears, breakfast is ready when you are.”
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atheliasnotebook · 1 year
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The Taste of You
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ft. Aether (vocalist/dancer), Cyno (the opening act), Childe (snack stand vendor), Diluc (the drink stand vendor), Gorou (the security guard) + Shikanoin Heizou (drummer/dancer), Kaedehara Kazuha (guitarist 1/dancer)
NOTE: the reader is gender-neutral, and is referred to as "_______" rather than (Y/N)!
TAG(S): fluff, confession, angsty (childe/ajax, diluc)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: self-indulgent ikemen fanservice owo
It's a 6REEZE concert! But... what's it like to kiss one of the boys for the first time (or even one of the venue workers)?
💫 Aether [ Vocalist / Dancer ]
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"A stranger, at a table in a place / and a really pretty face / I wonder what happens when you smile" (Someone You Like by The Girl and The Dreamcatcher)
You, the manager of 6REEZE, have gotten yourself into quite a predicament. You were simply sitting in the break room with Aether, sharing a snack with him before pre-show rehearsal began. Sitting in those metal foldable chairs with the beige-colored folding table propped up. The rule at this venue was that "eating is strictly prohibited in the dressing rooms," and their break room would double as storage. Surrounded by boxes, you offered one of your crackers out to the blonde-braided idol before stumbling over his lap, propping yourself up by gripping the edges of the latter's chair as you dropped the saltine atop his thigh. Apologizing, still looking down at his black trousers, you turn your gaze up—stumbling once again... and accidentally onto Aether's lips.
It's so... soft? And warm... without even knowing it, you had complacently melted in the motion. Aether let out a yelp, but stayed like that for a couple of seconds, unsure of what he should do. Pull away?
Aether widened his eyes, trembling as he hummed out of embarrassment. Squeaking his metal chair back, he shot his hand up to cover his lips, muttering apologies over and over, avoiding direct eye contact with you.
He always liked your smile. And because he always liked it so much, he couldn't help but always be attracted. Kissing you like this? He sure as hell didn't hate it, but he felt bad for making you go through something so embarrassing. Unbeknownst to him, he was your favorite. You made sure it didn't show, but secretly, you did so many little things that not he would've noticed.
"Aether, I'm so sorry for—"
"For what? You didn't do anything wrong! If anything... I should be the one saying sorry. I didn't bother pulling away, and I know you don't like me—"
"Well, who said I never liked you?"
That made Aether blush more than online thirst tweets about him.
✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼
🐳 Childe / Ajax [ Snack Stand Seller #1 ]
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"Will you meet me in the daylight / like we did before / Then I felt you on my shoulder / and you weren't suffering anymore" (Everything Goes On by Porter Robinson)
Cute little _______ has been dancing in his thoughts for the past few weeks! Sure, the first time he met you—you were simply trying to buy a bag of pretzels for Aether, and what do you know—he threw in some jerky and an iced water bottle for you. You gave a Jack Link's black-and-red labeled dried delicacy to Heizou, who chowed down with a broad smile and gratitude.
You tossed the pretzel bag to Aether, ready to drink from the water bottle when you saw a series of numbers written at the top of the bottle in dark, navy blue sharpie. "Call me!" it said beneath it, with a little heart.
☆ IF YOU CHOSE TO CALL HIM sometime after you read the bottle (or even after the show), he would greet you with that enthusiastic childlike eagerness.
"Good evening, comrade! I trust that the show was astounding? Well, I certainly thought so! The song lineup is what I would refer to as astounding!"
"The talent's in the boys, not me. I'm just the one who books their gigs and drives them around when they're drunk," you joke, and manage to stir up a charming laugh out of the magnanimous snack seller.
Although you two chatted it up almost every-to-every other day, you kept your distance. Because you sure as hell know better than to get close to a boy who flirts with girls as much as he offers you free snacks. He treats you like everyone else. You're not extraordinary.
Why would you be memorable?
You could only wonder.
You could only wallow.
After all, you're only the manager. Nobody actually knows your name. Your face. Nobody actually remembers. You cover up your face on live stream, because of all those stupid comments harassing you online. even the threats from the boys to strangle anyone who decides to talk crap about their manager don't help...
"The manager's probably some sick fat bastard pulling the strings."
"Maybe their 'manager' is just the permanent groupie for '6REEZE.'"
So, naturally, you just stopped texting him. You were always the one striking up conversation first. He didn't bother texting you first. Perhaps he was busy. Or perhaps he was just playing around with some girl.
✦ IF YOU CHOSE TO IGNORE THE NUMBER and simply drink your water, you'd toss it away and continue your work, booking the next tour (even though 6REEZE just rebranded from 5WIRL).
...
On another day during an intermission, you'd be drinking another iced water that you received from Childe. Kazuha would strike up a conversation with you as he watched you toss the bottle away with such an irked expression.
"______, if I may be so polite to inquire, is there a reason why you tossed away that bottle while harboring such a disdainful look on your face?"
"Some... guy is just trying to hit on me when I don't have the time for a relationship. Besides, I'm much too busy dealing with your guys' fangirls than to worry over if a man is attracted to me," you explain, sighing agitatedly as you slump in your chair.
"Manager, am I permitted to grant you a few words of advice?"
You nod your head... slowly. Kazuha normally keeps to himself, but he grins with a sense of knowing as he takes a sip at his white paper cup of hot tea.
"You work yourself to the bone just as much as we do to ensure that our shows are lined up, that our music and song are refined like polished diamonds, and that every staff and member we talk and associate with is approachable and friendly. You have every right to be happy. Everyone is. 'Breeze,' 'Anemo, 'Swirl,' whatever you wish to refer to it as—should not be the reason to hinder yourself from your enjoyable prospects. Please—" Kazuha elucidates beseechingly, scooting forward as he places a hand on your back. "—go chase after him, boss. You have told us that we are as free as the breeze, and can run anywhere that the wind will carry us. You too, are a part of 'breeze,' ______."
...
"Childe, are you busy?" you ask, with Ajax hearing your voice crackle over the phone.
"Not at all, comrade! My time is all yours~"
"Good, because I'm on the stairs by the hill. Let me know when you're availabl—"
"I'm coming over right now!" he exclaims, almost like an excited puppy. And then, very quietly, far away from the microphone. "Ah, Mister Zhongli, I'll be back in just a few minutes!" you hear, before the sound of a metal door slamming open and shut in just a few seconds, dragging your gaze to the ginger hopping on top of the stone brick planter walls and dashing towards you at an alarming speed with open arms.
You were expecting this. Returning his call means reciprocating his feelings. And knowing his feelings, they were stronger than every screaming fan of 6REEZE during their encore. But, just like Kazuha said, you are just as free as the breeze. So, with the strength of the wind, you dash just as fast toward him. And slowing down at the last second, you throw yourself into his embrace, burying one another's heads in each other's necks.
"I was waiting for when you'd finally call me back," he teased, giggling as he caressed the side of your face.
"Yeah," you muttered. "It took some convincing, but work shouldn't be getting in the way of my happiness. I'm here now."
"Do I have your permission to kiss you, comra—I mean... *ahem*... err..."
"Call me anything you want. And yes, you can kiss me."
It will be the mark of your new life. Your new, and happy life.
Childe leans forward, tucking three fingers behind your ear as he creases his eyes, seeking your approval with his receding ocean gaze. Thank you, you can only think as you press yourself against him, intertwining your lips like the seafoam that prances atop the lapping waves at the edges of the beach.
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⚡️ Cyno [ The Opening Act ]
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"Makes me want to turn around and face me / But I don’t know nothing about love, oh” (Accidentally In Love by Counting Crows)
Comedy.
At, least, that’s what he calls it. Tighnari warned him not to—for his act would flop harder than no-name indie bands trying to make a name for themselves out there. however, little did the entire venue and 6REEZE know what was comin’.
Cyno has been practicing piano. Not for very long, but with the title of “General Mahamatra,” he needs to incorporate some of his comedic charms into his routine. Although not incredibly complicated, his keyboard-playing was astoundingly well-timed with the delivery of his witty observations (almost like a second Bo Burnham)! When you sat through it, yes, it was stupid—but it got you laughing until your stomach was aching.
While you were busy taking care of your bursting laughter, Cyno’s eyes were glued to you—enthralled by the charm of such an innocent person: the manager of 6REEZE.
Oh, he thought. How lucky they are to have such a charismatic individual at their side at all times.
Naturally, because of the nature of his sociability—many think of him as hard-to-approach, and thus, respond by cutting straight to the chase (leaving no room for small talk or opening a window to try and be friendlier with one another). However, he thought about… you. You introduced yourself with such a wide smile and a friendly handshake, that (even he, who is stoic so naturally) was caught off guard by the way he let a small grin slip. Even Tighnari, his best friend (who doesn’t recommend Cyno’s acts for multiple reasons) was surprised at the way he reacted gently to you.
“Thanks for listening,” he says, smiling directly at you—the only one sitting in the third row for his rehearsal apart from the staff. He jumps down a few feet off the apron of the stage, walking up the steps toward you with an unwavering gaze. “You really thought it was that funny?”
“It was hilarious,” you remark, chuckling at the jokes he made about college authorities.
Cyno can't help but pat your head, and take hold of your palm and press a kiss to the back of it.
“Perhaps… you would be interested in going out sometime?” he asks, trying to take a page from other popular idols that he’s observed.
Tighnari is fuming at the indecency of Cyno as he watches you laugh and go along with him.
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🔥 Diluc Ragnvindr [ The Drink Vendor ]
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“Decoding these emotions / you’re the ocean I wanna dive into tonight” (Diamond City Lights by Lazulight (NIJISANJI EN))
You’ve seen Diluc around a few times. He always ends up booking angel’s share for the beverage vending at large events, and oh. Man. does he look attractive. High ponytail and nice black apron with the minimalist company logo that’s embroidered just above the bust area. The way he cleans is elegant, eyebrows furrowed in a focused kind of way.
People admire a man who is good with people. Diluc, although witty and snide to some who approach his bar (aka: Venti, who hits up the beverage vending to grab a bottle… or two… or three before the show ends, or kaeya who’s already had three full glasses of wine), and kind to older folks who drop by to send the Ragnvindr family their best wishes. tall, perfectly chiseled face—and you stare at his burning amber eyes before dragging your gaze to the shaker in his hands—zoning out into space.
“Hello? Earth to ______?”
You snap out of it. “How do you know my name?—“
"I believe you are the manager of… ‘Breeze,’ right? Naturally, one should be familiar with the names of the staff and performers for efficient communication.”
You nod. “Of course, Mister Diluc.”
“Just Diluc is fine. Referring to me as ‘mister’ sounds like too much of a formality. Besides, we have seen each too much to uphold formalities, wouldn’t you say?”
Perhaps. He’s older than you by maybe a few years, so just calling him by his first name alone doesn’t feel quite right off your tongue.
“Right, err—Diluc. How much do I owe you for the drink?”
“On the house. Think of it as a thank you,” he says, untying his apron as he throws it onto the hook, coming out to the stand front and handing the mixed cocktail to you himself. But you have the money to spare, so you surely have to support your fellow business owners. And more importantly, as a thank you for… what?
“No, no—I insist. how can I repay you?”
Diluc sighs. "Well, if you really want to, i suppose you can tell me what you think of me,” he explains, looking at you with crossed arms.
“What I think of you…?”
Well, he’s nice. But he has too many fangirls to bother trying to score a date with him. If you did end up with him—the benefit would be releasing an alcohol lineup “themed” to each of the members of 6REEZE. but putting aside his business prospects, he’s the ideal man. Tall, dashing, handsome—good with people, all while having martial arts experience that rivals some of the top security in the venue.
“Talented, and charming.”
“Then…” Diluc begins, his neutral expression slowly fading into a grin. “What would say if I thought the same about you?”
Ecstatic. You could die right then and there content and happy. But, in that same split second—you reconsidered such a statement with the prospects of 6REEZE circulating your thoughts.
“Happy, but—“
“But what?” he asks, holding out his hand to you. Confused, you place your palm into his warm grasp—swiftly being hoisted forwards by the waist, hugging your hips with the bartender’s. Flustered, you look up—unable to move out from the embrace.
“The rumors.”
“Why care about rumors? If we like one another, we should give it a shot—no? Apart from that, it will be good publicity for both of us.”
Ah, right. Business.
Because Diluc’s always has his mind first on business before anything else.
“If you keep looking so sad, I might have to lose a bit of control to try and make you happy.”
Just ignore him. “Losing control.” How silly. Just put on a happy face and polite smile, like you usually do, and…
Diluc wraps his lips in between the crevices of yours, enveloping the both of you in a profound warmth. You feel his heart beat just as fast as yours against your chest, shuddering at the touch.
Diluc tenderly pulls away, creasing his brows with a low exhale. "My apologies. I should have requested your permission before providing such a gesture in public..." he remarks, scratching the back of his neck as he has a hand around your waist.
From the stage, Venti gasps, about to jump off the platform to have at Diluc, before Xiao covers his mouth and wrangles him back.
With a carefree smile and without noticing the boys, you wrap your arms around the brewer’s shoulders, sinking into the reassuring comfort of one another.
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🏹 Gorou [ The Security Guard ]
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“When blossoms are blooming / I would think of you” (100 Years by Or3o)
"______, we open the gates in 20 minutes! Get over here!"
Working double as a security guard and manager is great. Your identity as the manager is already pretty overshadowed by the boys' fame, despite how much they praise and talk about you. Heizou would say (at some point) during the bi-weekly livestreams:
"Ah, but you see—we can never do it without the help of our beloved manager!"
Even in autumn, the leaves still fall and dance through the wind in myriads of mandarin orange and auburn reds, which spiral down to decorate the pavement. You spot the planter boxes adorned with multicolored blooming chrysanthemums. Catching a glance of that latte-shaded cut of your co-worker, you jog over without breaking a sweat, catching yourself smiling at the latter's enthusiasm.
"Where are Shibata and Hiroyuki? Are they at the check-in and pat-down area?"
"Sure are! Have you seen Daisuke anywhere?"
"I think he went to go grab a snack from backstage! Do you want me to radio him to bring you a drink as well?"
"No, it's quite fine—"
"Well, alright then! If you're feeling parched, you can share water with me, just let me know!"
Did you hear that right? The head guard... Gorou... will share his water with you? But isn't that considered an indirect kiss? Why does he not care for such semantics?
"Uh, _______, why are you turning red all of a sudden? Did I say something that embarrassed you?"
"What, hahahaha! N-no..."
"Are you embarrassed by saying that we could share water?"
You blush more, and Gorou chuckles, before bursting out into laughter. Guess nothing gets past the general. You believe he may not remember you from your younger days at the Inazuma secondary academy, but you recall watching and admiring him from afar. Watching him hang out with Kazuha, and Kokomi, and spending time talking to the academy's teachers.
"M-maybe..."
"I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to bring it up. It's just—well, I remember watching your gaze from the edge of my classroom door when you were waiting for Ayaka and Thoma. Kazuha pointed it out to me once," he rambles, chuckling and smiling. "After all, how could I forget those elegant eyes staring at me the whole ti—"
After just a few moments of silence, Gorou clasps his hands over his mouth, wide-eyed in shock at what he just confessed. You too, blushing, clenched your palms to cover your face in surprise. You were so careful to make sure nobody would see you! Maybe... someone ratted you out? Or maybe Thoma and Ayaka were too obvious about your crush on him?
... hold on, elegant?
"Do you like me?"
"Ah, guess I gave it away..."
Both of you stand there awkwardly, trying to say something at the same time, but then say "no, you go first," before slipping into unified chuckles. Gorou scratches the back of his neck while watching you fiddle with your fingers behind your back.
"Guess we should talk about this later... huh?" you say, checking your watch. 5 minutes before the gates open, 3 minutes before the admission office starts taking tickets.
Gorou smiles, taking a step closer to you as he kisses you on the forehead. "Sure. If you come into any trouble, let me know."
The both of you depart hastily from one another. Maybe distance hasn't ripped you both apart as much as you thought it did...
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🔎 Shikanoin Heizou [ Drummer / Dancer ]
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"High on words / We almost used / We're fireworks with a wet fuse" (Find You by Zedd, Matthew Koma, and Miriam Bryant)
You walk into the practice room, listening to the sound of drums banging and thumping. The kicks, the toms, and the cymbals crash in an ideal symphonic rhythm that almost sounds polyrhythmic in nature. You watch how his sweat trickles down the side of his neck, the entire scene playing out like a cinematic movie. In your head, you can hear Kazuha and Scara rocking out together, the music auto-completing itself.
Heizou watches how you keep time, tapping your foot to complete the metronome. Mister "detective" admires your mastery in remembering the timing of every song in their lineup, smiling as he plays along to your tune. He watches your grin curl and admires how cute it is. He doesn't even realize how much he's blushing and giggling to himself.
"Is something funny, Heizou?"
"Oh?" he said, caught by surprise. "Yes, just thought of a funny meme that Venti sent me before I started practicing," he lied, providing false guidance that was sure that you'd believe.
You giggle. You didn't know Heizou indulged in memes so much. And when he hears your laugh, mister "No. 1 detective" blushes red to his ears, making sure to hide his flushed complexion in his hand covering half his face.
"I brought you some water, you've been practicing so hard, even right before the show starts."
"Ahh... yes, I do it not only to reinforce the routine but to get things off my mind."
"Something's on your mind then?"
"Yep, just this person that I can only admire from afar."
"Ooh...~ is it some lucky fan, Heizou?"
"Perhaps... in a way, they are my biggest fan. I would even argue that they are not only my fan, but also a teacher, and a friend."
"Well, are they coming to this show?"
"Yes," he answers curtly, always looking you straight in the eyes, definite of his response. "They always come up to our shows..."
"Well, I just have to say—you are free to do as you please, but as an idol, Heizou, please be careful. Firstly, you are a person, but second, you are a star. It is essential to stay wary—"
Heizou sighs, chuckling as he stands from his drummer's seat, hanging his drumsticks in the loop belts of his pants. "Of course, you know how careful I am, boss." You furrow your eyebrows. Venti has the tendency to flirt with people quite openly, and it's gotten him into trouble a couple more times than you'd wish. You trust Heizou, but you have to give the same spiel.
"Heizou, you better pro—"
"Promise you that I should stay wary?" he asks rhetorically, leaning against the wall, raising his hand to beckon you forth.
And when you turn to look at him, he pats the empty space on the wall next to him. Confused, you approach, relaxing against the wall with a foot against the plain beige paper. And not even a couple seconds after, he kabedons you, leaving barely any space between Heizou's arm and the side of your face. The space feels suffocating as you're staring into his verdant green eyes.
"Manager, what if I think that you should be the one who's vigilant more than me?"
No response. What do you even say about that? Heizou almost feels like he's watching you like a hawk... or maybe he has been? But something about the way his eyebrows droop, and suddenly leans his head on your shoulder makes it feel like something's off about heizou.
"Are you okay, Heizou? Shouldn't you save this intimacy for who you admire—"
His chuckle cuts you off. "What if the person I admire is you?"
... what? You?
From the moment he landed the audition for the group through Kazuha's extended invitation, you've always watched how he dedicates himself to his craft. Although all the boys work hard in their own ways, he fixates himself as though he's trying to solve a puzzle. Such a hyper-obsession is almost parallel to Xiao's obsession with almond tofu-flavored anything.
"Heizou, you must be—"
"Confused? Nonsense. In fact, I think I have been attracted to you since the moment we were introduced to one another."
No way! You can't believe what's happening... Heizou's hand crawls up your neck and cups your cheek when he sways forward and nuzzles his nose up against your cheek. So close! It's just like a movie you were studying before!
He sighs, and his breath trickles down the side of your neck, making you shudder. He stands up, and you look down at his clenching fist. Heizou knows he shouldn't have been so bold to try and take a step in that direction with his manager. Xiao was right. He knows all the repercussions, and yet he...
"Heizou, come here."
Confused, he leans forwards again, doing the classic "kabedon" with his arm up against the world, along with his face placed barely inches away from yours.
Cupping his cheeks, you pull him forward, crashing your lips against his in a jaded haze of fervor and passion as the both of you bury your guys' hands in each other's hair. Savoring the moment against his chapped lips and smelling the scent of his cologne mixed with his sweat is the best pre-show adrenaline for optimum performance for the two of you.
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🍃 Kaedehara Kazuha [ Guitarist 1 / Dancer ]
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"If I told you we could bathe in all the lights / Would you rise up, come and meet me in the sky? / Would you trust me when you're jumping from the heights? / Would you fall in the name of love?" (In The Name of Love by Bebe Rexha and Martin Garrix)
"Manager," Kazuha calls, peeking his head around the doorframe to see you slouched in a metal folding chair (like the Shinji chair meme). "You wanted to see me?"
Hearing Kazuha's dulcet tones make you turn your head, sitting up immediately with somewhat of a forced grin and a straightened stature as though you were discarding your previous countenance.
"Yes, I wanted to talk about your recent developments of the newest songs."
He hums and nods, moving into the wide space while closing the door behind him. "Well, it just so happens that I finished writing a dedicated piece behind the back of the rest of the guys," he replies as he reveals multiple small sheets of paper that he'd been hiding behind his back—covered in pretty writing and crossed-out scripture with chord names and string-picking directions.
He watches your expression light up with fascination. He knows what you're thinking too—you're just too easy to read. Between his index and middle finger, he holds out the sheets, and you gingerly (yet swiftly) take them into your hands.
Dreamscapes are made of memories we created all out of misery, You took my hollow and wounded heart and bandaged all of my injuries, For I can't give you my heart through any text I'll tell you that I love you in this life and the next
You keep reading over the lyrics. It's resemblant to Kazuha's typical style, but he makes sure to adjust the language so it still sounds good in music without having too many layers, or making the fans too confused. But... all of it is so strange since Kazuha doesn't normally write love songs. Whenever he writes any music—he always discusses with the boys what kind of features they want, while also acknowledging everyone's favorite style of playing is, and what will be most original and unique.
"Kazuha, this is a love song, is there... anything in particular that made you want to write this?"
"One of the pages is a full explanation and analysis of the whole piece," he nods, taking a seat in a chair that he's unfolding.
You find the page labeled with the highest number at the bottom and shuffle it to the top, before reading the explanation with confoundment.
Dedicated to you.
"Kazuha, who's... 'you?'"
"Is it not obvious enough?" Kazuha inquires, tilting his head with just a faint blush dusted on his cheeks while gazing down. "Should I spell it out for you?"
A second. Then two. Then ten.
It's.... you???
"Kazuha..." you stutter, furrowing your eyebrows in surprise.
Wait... are you just oblivious? Sure... Kazuha's gaze sometimes lingers just a moment too long, and you watch him run off towards the rest of the boys from time to time... and then they start talking and looking back at you, while you just cock your eyebrow in confusion. Sometimes, Venti throws his arm around him and messes up his hair, patting him on the back. Sometimes, Xiao and Aether groan in some sort of disapproval.
<> . . . <>
"Come on, Kazuha! You know you'll never get them the longer you keep sitting around!" Venti would say while the rest of the boys would be lounging around in the dressing room, getting ready for their seven 'o clock show.
"Venti, leave him be," Xiao remarks, grumbling as he slides his shirt on.
"Kazuha, he's right y'know~ ______ has been talking about how there are a bunch of people who keep flirting with them! For example, the other day—I saw them at the snack stand, and not one, but both of the sellers at the snack stand seemed to be interested in them," he explains in a somewhat sing-songy tone.
Kazuha clenches his belt in his hands, exhaling frustratedly with clenched teeth.
"There's no need to keep nagging him about it!" Aether exclaims, approaching Venti to try and snatch the alcohol bottle that he's about to crack open.
"Pathetic. Drinking before a show? Really?" the titled 'Wanderer' remarks.
"What can I say~" Venti chimes. "Consider it a factor to my unfathomable charisma~!"
"Kazuha, if I can have a couple words with you," Aether mutters, pulling up a chair to Kazuha, who's buckling on his extra accessories and straps. The braided vocalist leans forward, looking intently at the poet. "What are you afraid of?"
Kazuha's afraid to lose you. Back then, he lost everything. His family, his business, everything. Now, this band is practically the only thing he has. You are the one that saved him.
"Regardless," Aether continues. "What matters is that you communicate your feelings. I look at you, Kazuha, there's a bit of jealousy that creeps on your face. And it looks sad..."
All the boys stay quiet, before Heizou comes over, placing his hands on Kazuha's shoulders while spinning him around to let him look into the mirror at the both of themselves.
"What do you see in the mirror, Kazuha?"
What... does Kazuha see? It's just him, and looking at his own drooping face, sighing. What does he see? All he stares at is a man who has the heart to give advice to everyone but is more afraid than anything to make things awkward between you. The man parts his lips slightly, about to say something, before being cut off by the detective.
"I see..." Heizou observes, lifting his hands and patting them down onto Kazuha's while looking at him through the reflection of the mirror. "'Pages with scribbles,' 'tired eyes,' and 'newly bandaged fingers.' You've been writing a song for _______, haven't you~?"
Right on the dot.
"Just confess to them in the Kazuha way, Kazuha. Trying to tell your feelings in any other way isn't nearly as sincere. Knowing the manager, it won't be awkward whether you confess to them or not. They'll hold nothing against you for it! Just be you, Kazuha. You're a splendid poet and songwriter! As you say—'the heart wants what the heart wants.'"
<> . . . <>
"_______," he exhales your name. "Ever since that moment, we had encountered on that rainy street, and you scouted me for the 'talent' you saw in me... I believe that I have begun to develop a profound fondness for you."
His voice is a little shaky. You set the pages slowly down to the ground, moving slowly so you don't startle him.
"I never understood what 'love' was. And of course, as I wandered from place to place, I began to grasp that 'love' could many things. One's favorite snacks, the loved ones that we spend time with, but... most of all," Kazuha explains, approaching you as he slowly sits down on his knees, bowing slightly to you, fixated on the ground. "I have learned of 'love' because you saved me. I now understand what it means to truly want something. What it means... to want to protect something with your own life."
"I love you."
You sigh, smiling as you looking the nervous Kazuha on the floor. You stand up, pushing the metal chair away before joining him on the floor, and taking ahold of his hands in yours.
"I love you too," you smile, inching closer as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Taking in a deep breath, he leans his face closer to yours, his minty breath dancing on your lips.
"Can I kiss you?"
You reply by pressing your moist lips atop his own, dancing and bathing in the dim lights of the empty dressing room, feeling as though you were falling and floating both at the same time as he pins you delicately to the floor in the gracious moment.
if you're interested in part 2 with venti, scara/wanderer/"megumi", xiao, tighnari, yae miko, lumine, and zhongli, feel free to request part 2 (or even ask to be on a taglist)!
512 notes · View notes
atheliasnotebook · 1 year
Note
HIIHIHIHIHIH HRU
HI IM GOOD IM JUST intellectually fried
4 notes · View notes
atheliasnotebook · 1 year
Note
hey! how are you ?
i'd like to request something, but feel free to ignore/delete my ask if it breaks any rule or if you just don't feel like doing it.
can i ask for a kaeya and/or diluc* comforting a crying gn!reader ? to be more specific, the reader is really down and has been crying all day long. in the end they're exhausted and almost begging their body to just stop crying, only to cry even more.
i hope this isn't too vague hhh. thank you very much if you do it :) and if you don't, that's okay! i wish you a nice day/night.
*you can pick which one if you decide to do only one of them
Take Care of Me, Please
pairing: kaeya x reader, diluc x reader
note: reader is gender neutral
tags: mentioned family death (to the reader), pet name: "hun" (kaeya), pet name: "darling" (diluc)
author's note: (i love ur writing sm i cant believe i got a request from u -///- it makes me so happy i rly hope you like it it)
Something About Kaeya’s Hands…
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There’s something about the way that he cups your face with both hands when you’ve been crying all day, gently wiping your tears while he puts on this somber smile. It hurts him—not nearly as much as you’re hurting, but every time he hears you sob and cry, he’s gently caressing your face with his thumbs. His hands are cold—soothing to the touch after the immense heat that you’ve built up from crying all morning.
He’s hurt too. And he wished he could have stayed with you all day, but rumors of attacks on the city call for immediate action, leaving you to your own devices most of the day. Luckily, the letter sent was an elaborate prank (more or so less an accident) from Klee in collaboration with Diona. In turn, he was able to return home to you just a little after noon—only a few hours after both of you had awoken.
Jean, prior to having him take his leave—noticed that his rather smug demeanor had disappeared.
What could be bothering him so much? she thought, before assuring Kaeya that matters about his patrol will be covered by Amber and Eula. She was so concerned when Kaeya simply told her that “it’s nothing that anybody needs to worry about” and “with a bit of live target practice, I bet I’ll be spick and span” In turn, she genuinely decided to consult albedo after ordering him to rest. And Albedo’s response was simply:
“I just think he needs a break right now. I mean, have you seen the state that ______ is in? He’s most likely just worried about them.”
Sucrose’s meek response followed:
“______ has j-just been having a hard time since this morning, I’ve heard. One of their close family members just passed away…”
Jean, after hearing their responses, became firm in her decision to send Kaeya home to supposedly rest.
Kaeya comes home to you, immediately throwing his coat on the rack and preparing a pitcher of water and two glasses to bring to the room and place on his side of the nightstand.
“Hey hun, look at me,” he whispers and cups your cheek, looking you in the eyes as he sits beside you on the bed. “It’s going to be okay—I promise.”
His hands are cold. Albeit, you shudder from his sudden touch and after the initial shock, sink into his hand to soothe your throbbing head, but in the end, you sob even more so, eventually burying your head in the crook of his neck.
“Hey—shhhh, I got you—it’s alright…” he says, rocking gently back and forth and nestling his fingers between the locks of your lush hair, just newly combed through.
“I’m here—I-I’ll be here… don’t worry, I’m not leaving, Jean has let me have the day off. and now, I’m all yours, hun.”
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
About Diluc’s Embrace…
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His arms are so warm. As soon as he woke up, he heard quiet sobbing from the bathroom, noticing that the empty space in his bed where you were supposed to be.
“Darling…?“ Worry overwhelms his heart and he shudders before taking a deep breath. “Can… you let me in?”
You don’t unlock the door, and simply just… sit there, sobbing louder. You can hear Diluc’s breathing just hastening in a hitched cadence. "P-please?”
And it breaks your heart in two to hear him so worried. It breaks him just as much as it breaks you. Watching the door with blurry eyes, you heard gentle knocking. There are the sounds of other footsteps, the signature clacking of boots from one of the maids approaching, and immediately walking away.
“Please, ______, open the door hun…” he mumbles. And both of you sit there… in silence, for approximately 5 minutes. You can hear his sigh digging into both of your hearts. And you want to open the door—for the reason that you want to feel him warm you, for, you’ve been up since the early morning, taking walks around the winery to try and get yourself back to sleep somehow.
Diluc hears the lock unclick, seeing you shivering and sobbing, immediately taking you into a warm embrace and weaving his fingers in your hair, brushing through and kissing away your tears.
“Darling, what’s wrong—? What happened?”
You try to choke out the words through your sobs. “M-mom… s-she’s—“ and you start coughing, only crying more.
Diluc, hearing these words slip out from your lips cradles you, both of you on the floor on your knees, and having you nestled warmly in his arms.
“Darling, I’ll have the maids and workers take care of everything today, and cancel my shift at the tavern… anything you need, just say the word.”
566 notes · View notes
atheliasnotebook · 1 year
Note
Hi! I was wondering if you could do Kazuha, Xiao, & Thoma (separate)x fem reader where they‘re cuddling and the reader falls asleep and they just admire the reader for a bit? Thanks in advance!
Dozy Admirations
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Kaedehara Kazuha x fem reader Xiao x gender-neutral reader Thoma x fem-dressed reader
TAGS: fluff, comfort (teyvat metro)
Sleepy time means cuddly time.
●・○・●・○・●
Kazuha 💨
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Honestly, you and Kazuha would be sitting down. Kazuha might have been cuddling up on a couch in his most comfortable hoodie—with you nestled carefully between his legs. he’s reading you his poetry collection, carefully picking up his pen and paper before piping up:
“Hey, ______… what should the theme of this piece be abou—“
And he sits there… gazing and admiring the way your hair has swept up and brushed over your face and shoulders. For a second, Kazuha notices your ruffled and rather loose clothing. Yet, he sighs and smiles, taking in the peaceful look of your sleeping self. He doesn’t feel flustered, per say—but he’s definitely taken aback. In one sense, he is worried. Wondering “Is she sleeping well” or “Did something at the academy happen today?”
But on the other hand… he can’t help but just look at you. Eyes wandering to every part of your body—not in any lustful or longing manner. He takes note of the folds of your oversized shirt… and the way your hand was gently up, resting on his chest as you lay on your side.
And he kisses you gently, pulling you closer with a blanket over the both of you.
“Sweet dreams, sunshine.”
●・○・●・○・●
Xiao 🗡
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Alright, now Xiao and you have agreed that a lot of touchy-feely stuff isn’t really his sort of thing. And you know what—you think that’s fine. But every so often when you’re alone, you’ll gradually brush your hand against his more often… and after a couple of days, Xiao would have gotten used to the immediate instinct of wanting to grab your hand.
Funny, the first time he did, he accidentally grabbed your hand as if he was going to disarm you, and recoiled back in so much guilt. You were fine, really! Since your job conditions cause you to undergo intense training of sorts, you’re used to a strong grip. But Xiao curled up in a ball in layers of blankets just mumbling:
“No… please don’t get any closer.”
And yet, the only thing you did was pull him closer, saying that everything was alright. Still being fresh in your relationship, for him to get used to being touched and physically affectionate is a lot to take in. So, one day, you were both on the couch—laying your head in his lap as you both are talking about your day at work—your eyes so happened to catch the better of you that evening when he was home early.
“It was peaceful…” he sighs and grumbles. “Until that guy that always hangs out with my boss was—“
And then he noticed you had stopped breathing for just a second, internally panicking and almost abruptly moving to hoist you up. And after hearing your shuddering breath, followed by a relaxed smile and hug around your shared blanket. He sighed a breath of relief, smiling… reaching out his hand to caress your face.
At that point, he never felt how soft you really were. sure, you shared a bed but… never really cuddled together. You giggled in your sleep as You felt something warm yet some coarse and calloused brush against your face. Xiao imagines that you were dreaming of something happy at that moment, despite how you had just fallen asleep a couple minutes ago.
Xiao, with another hand—afraid to wake you up, pulls the blanket closer and adjusts his legs so your neck wouldn’t be sore when you awakened. and holding one of your hands, taking only a couple of fingers and holding them in yours, says:
“Sleep well… thank you… for listening,” he smiles, closing his eyes and trying to embrace the warmth, attempting to fall asleep to the sound of your receding breath.
●・○・●・○・●
Thoma 🍲
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You are the Kamisato’s best friend! You love Ayaka and Ayato’s company, and study plus hang out with them outside of school when they’re not tending to their family matters. More importantly, after Ayato figured out that you had the biggest crush on his butler, he laughed and offered to hook you both up. Even if you felt embarrassed, he would tell Thoma in secret anyways—who ended up being extremely flattered and blushed like a mess! He… really liked when you visited. You laughed loud all the time, but he always found himself laughing somewhat boisterously when with you.
In the end… it just kind of ended up naturally like that. Now, you hang out with the Kamisato’s and Thoma every few days, and on Sundays interchangeably with them. One day, Thoma had some things to take care of in the house—but it wasn’t of utmost importance that they were concerned about disclosing the minor details with you.
So you came to visit, and Thoma had just finished placing a new vase of flowers on the pedestal at the foot of the railing of the stairs.
“Oh, hey ______!” he’s happy that he doesn’t have to be so formal with you, as with other guests. he pats down his pockets before running up to you and sweeping you up in a tight huh, spinning you around.
“Miss me?” he asks in such a teasing way. Of course, you do! What a stupid question. “I’m sorry to tell you, but I’ve got to finish up some final things—hey, you can join us—buuuuuuut there are some of your favorite biscuit cookies on the table in the living room~”
And with that, you were off in your separate directions. And you sat on the plush and fancy blue couches, snacking on the biscuit cookies with some fresh tea made by Thoma. Was he… expecting you? Was he anticipating that you would…
Never mind that, those were some good cookies. Best sweets you’ve had in a long time. Ever since exams, you just haven’t taken the time to eat better than you were currently. You laid your head on the armrest, thinking that it would be comfortable… before settling regularly into the mass of the furniture. Closing your eyes, you didn’t even realize how fast you’d fallen asleep.
Thoma, after about twenty minutes, comes in and sees that you’re not there...
“______, I’m finished wi—“ he starts to say before coming to the couches, noticing that you’re asleep. Immediately, he takes the remaining plate of biscuit cookies and teapot and sets them off to the side, before crouching down and just… looking at your face.
He thinks you’re gorgeous… oh boy. he… wow. Your hair is... so pretty. Looks so soft... and luscious... and long. Your skirt is running up, too...
Without looking and taking his eyes from your relaxed lashes, he gently pulls your skirt down and takes a folded throw blanket, putting it over you and nestling himself between the armrest and you so he can place a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Exams were hard on you, weren’t they…” he sighs, saddened at how he couldn’t be with you for so long. “Rest well…” he mumbles, sitting and thinking about what food to make you when you awaken.
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atheliasnotebook · 1 year
Text
note: beginning of neighbors au??? (angsty)
warning: mentions of alcohol
as per the rules of the matra, it is only natural that cyno exercises his listening and acute listening skills to eavesdrop on suspicious individuals.
but overtime, after getting to know him, he had realized that his hearing was better used for other things. for example, when he had just finished another droning day at the police station… he would have been walking home before overhearing you, who was new to the neighborhood, gossip with your closest friends about how handsome your neighbor was. he only chuckled as he took his keys and fiddled them within the lock, thinking about the enthusiastic voice chatting about him. he couldn’t mistake it for anyone else—yes, he won’t ever forget the way you described his physicality as though it were straight out of a greek epic… but he’s the only single, young man that borders your humble residence.
perhaps that was just a fluke, but the second time was when he had hopped out of his car late at night, noticing how your door was wide open, along with all the lights. upon arrival, he was devastated at the sight. broken glass, an open window with a bunch of empty bottles of alcohol near the window… in addition to a myriad of half-finished shots. he stood in the doorway, peering inside, taking off his sandals at the entryway before catching the quiet sound of hitched breaths and other hiccuped sobs coming from you cooped up inside your room. it also seems like you left your bedroom door open from up the stairs.
but cyno found it hard to leave you alone. how could he simply leave someone in a state like this? yes, as the head of the police, he knows more than anyone that he shouldn’t have entered the house without your consent. yet, the cries of begging for the affection of a man made him all too curious. he could only keep thinking about your wishes as he cleaned up your entire downstairs, in addition to leaving some painkillers and a couple of water bottles with a post-it note:
“Remember to take care of yourself. From, Cyno—the next-door neighbor to your right.”
he left his number at the bottom if something like this happens again. there’s something that kills him more on the inside when he hears the way you call and beg for your presence when you think he’s not around.
“Please love me.” That is what you cried.
he wonders… is that even possible for someone in his position—reputed to be the most critical and harsh of the entire department, regardless of the person?
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atheliasnotebook · 1 year
Text
𝐎𝐇, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋
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Time waits for nobody. Although they wish that they had just enough to properly say goodbye, the only thing they can hold onto is the bittersweet memories of you.
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑(𝐒): AYATO KAMISATO, ALBEDO, DILUC RAGNVINDR, SHIKANOIN HEIZOU
𝐓𝐀𝐆/𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): READER DEATH, ANGST, NO COMFORT, SLIGHT BODY HORROR (HEIZOU)
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▶ 【 HOW HE NEVER GOT TO SAY HOW MUCH HE TRULY LOVED YOU 】
When AYATO heard of your passing, he had only just gotten back from a long trip of arranging some negotiations regarding support for other noble houses. As the head of a prestigious organization, it was only natural to adopt skepticism with a hint of cynicality—for it is the only way to survive in the world of the rich. Yet, he had nurtured a respectable, yet amiable attitude between every one of the attendants. That’s why the news he received upon arrival was jaw-dropping—when he saw every single attendant and guard of the estate lined up with sunken expressions and creased eyebrows of amalgamated despondency and condolences. When he was informed, the only thing he managed to choke out was:
“Take me to them.”
Thoma and Ayaka—right by his sides, walked in with wildly different expressions, despite each of them holding their breaths. The two standing beside him inhaled deeply, hoping that what they would see wasn’t real—while the man in the middle stared and creaked open the doors, exhaled to brace the pain.
And yet, you laid there on a multitude of sheets and pillows, the colors of the quilts coincidentally reminding Ayato of your seemingly colorful personality. You had passed in your sleep, but to all three of the figures looking at you, she and he and he only wished that the life you had wasn’t so… short-lived. The lady had sobbed as Thoma took her into a tight hug, while Ayato had taken a knee and examined your features, thinking of your dignity and how much he treasured you as his lover.
The days, and the weeks, and even the months following your death—he craved to hear your voice. Whether if you’d be humming, mumbling something to yourself, or even talking to someone nearby—he replays the way you’d call his name and compliment him over and over in his head.
Although busy with the toils of work, it had never been so quiet. With a sigh, as he signed off on a contract, he muttered regrets with tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
“I love you,” he’d mumble, looking down at the paper as he talked to nobody—but rather, somebody who had passed long ago. Oh, if only he got the chance to truly tell you how much he loved you.
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▶ 【 FIRST DENIAL, THEN MANIA 】
RECOMMENDATION VIA @yourtippicalarsonist
When ALBEDO had found you, Kaeya was frantically trying to dig through the blankets of ice to pull you out of the sea of snow. The two of you were heading up to visit the alchemist and see how he was doing on his new project, but the avalanche that came and hit the both of you heeded no warning to its catastrophe. Off in the distance, he had heard someone calling your name, followed by his. The captain of cavalry, with huffed breaths and panic struck in his eyes, glanced at Albedo with a look that cried for help.
And for an hour they had searched for you until Albedo had found your hand sticking out from beneath the snow, covered in frost and pale with cold. He began calling for Kaeya as he began pulling you out from the land that sucked your vessel into it like a black hole, desperate to see you—no, to save you. For you were the only person that he learned to love, despite the fact that he didn’t show much emotion—particularly after receiving his vision. With every pull and tug, all while trying to be as gentle as possible with your body, they got you out, seeing how your lips had turned blue and snow had tangled in your hair.
“We have to get them to camp… there’s still a chance of saving them!” he exhaled the words, slinging his arm beneath your knees and supporting your back as he clings you tightly. He ran down the snow to retreat into his lab and begin setting you by the fire, laid down on his jacket.
ALBEDO had hope that he could save you. He kept the fire running every single day, upkeeping it regularly in hopes that you awakened. Yet, Kaeya knew that you were long gone from the moment the avalanche had hit, but he didn’t remind Albedo of that bitter fact. More than anyone, the painter should know better than anyone that you were gone.
But rather than a simple acceptance of your death, he was insistent on brewing a potion that could revitalize the recently deceased. First, it only was a curious thought that rapidly evolved into a sort of craze, followed by a mania and obsession of trying to save you. What is it that he truly craved from you? Your voice? What about the attention? The help you gave him in the lab? The kindness? No, he remembered. Romance.
It was only when Kaeya had shown up to snap Albedo out of his insanity that he had broken down, collapsing in a chair as he clutched the cloth right over his chest with his left hand.
“Captain,” he mumbles, sobbing silently as he squeaks out words without getting his stuffy-nasal tone stuck in the words. “I know. But could you at least let me try to save the person who taught me what it means to love?”
But eventually, through much talk, Albedo had budged and allowed the city to cremate you. Yet, that’s when his plans with the way he typically budgeted his finances went downhill. Most of it was all for paints and new canvases that he’d use to sketch and dance his brush across with wet and thick colors—all attempting to paint the beauty of your figure captured in your facial features, especially your eyes (because that was the part of your body he loved looking at most). He racked his brain over and over trying to find an image in his mind that could encapsulate the true nature of your beauty. Finally, he settled on an image most beautiful: a flower crown of Cecilia atop your ahead as you smiled with your (color) eyes sparkling beneath sunlight.
“My beautiful flower…” he sighs wistfully with a tinge of sadness, putting the small amount of gold paint mixed with your ashes to highlight the brightness of your complexion. Gorgeous, as always.
But despite how much your death racked him, he’d still continue to paint pictures of you every single week. After all—he believes that this is the one true way of preserving your beauty for all eternity, and until the day he dies.
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▶ 【 JUST A LITTLE MORE TIME 】
DILUC had known that you were physically weak, yet, decided to overlook your imperfections because he had adored you so dearly. T’was a day that your boyfriend was working at the tavern, and thus, meant another day you could use to surprise him. With pleading eyes and hands pressed together in a praying manner, you beseeched Elzer to ask him to prepare some grape jam and homemade bread as a surprise for Diluc when he got home.
Everything was faring well, and you successfully picked enough grapes and put the bread in the oven before collapsing, hitting the wooden-polished floors with a thud and an outcry. Elzer and Adelinde, startled by your seize, assisted you as you felt your body beginning to go limp.
Insisting on getting you back up to the ‘master’s’ room, you shook your head weakly. The breaths you took in were as comparably short to the amount of life keft in your voice. Immediately, with haste, Elzer requested his eagle to deliver a message to Mondstadt, hoping Diluc could receive word and come back as soon as possible.
Deep down, he probably knows that the Master would never forgive him for allowing you to go out and exert yourself this way.
… when Diluc retrieved the message, his eyes widened as he furrowed his eyebrows?
“What?” he asked, more scared than frustrated. What could have happened in the few hours that he was away?
Without an ounce of any pardon to his job, he yelled at everyone to leave, shutting the door as he hopped on his horse and began riding all the way back in the midday burning of the Mondstadt summer. The heat didn’t bother him beneath all his heavy coats and garments… instead, he kept muttering your name under his breath.
“______, ______, please be okay—“ he begged, a sense of relief washing over him as he sees the Winery come into vision as his steed clops over the dirt path and over the grass. Stopping directly in front of the front gate, he hopped off his horse, tossing the reins to a nearby attendant as he dashed into the house—not even bothering to take off his coat.
And there he saw you laid up against the kitchen counter sitting on the floor, weakly chuckling as you reached out for him.
“Darling,” he said, panting heavy breaths in between. “Darling, I’m here—“ he trembled, shaking as he ran his hand over yours, slightly sweaty from the haste he made getting over to you. The smell of grapes and fresh breas pierces the air and empty atmosphere of just the two of you. “What. Happened.”
“Oh… y’know…” you muttered. “I just wanted to prepare a surprise for you—“
You coughed, wheezing as you slowly replied with seconds in between each word.
“But I guess that didn’t go as planned,” you chuckled, closing your eyes as he gripped onto your hands tighter. “… did it?”
No, he thinks. “No,” he mumbled aloud, shaking you as he pulled you tight into a hug. It was… warm. And everything felt like a blanket wrapped around you during the cold of winter, despite the weather. It makes you… sleepy.
“Please, ______, darling, you have to stay awake—“ He sucked in a breath, hugging you tighter as he began to feel a hole ripping in his heart.
And he felt as you lifted your arms to cup his cheeks and press a kiss on his lips one last time, and watched painfully as your body fell limp in his embrace.
“No…” he whispered, tears pouring down his cheeks in silence as he holds you—looking at your smiling face.
If only he had more time. If only he were faster. If only he could trade the time that he has to give you a longer life. If only you could have more time. Maybe his time, he thinks, sliding a pan of bread into the oven on the anniversary of your death years later.
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▶ 【 YOUR SCENT STILL DANCES IN THE AIR, EVEN WHEN YOU'RE NOT HERE ANYMORE 】
SHIKANOIN HEIZOU, the No. 1 detective in Inazuma, is one of the smartest men in the entirety of the Tenryou’s ranks.
But, in his eyes, not smart enough to find the person who murdered you.
Upon returning home on an afternoon in the middle of the week, he called for you. “Love! I’m ho…” he’d begin saying, before realizing the door was unlocked, creaked open.
Now, with a scowl painted across his countenance, he’d stop moving, looking around for any hints of tracks. None went in or out the front door, but carefully, creaking the door open—he’d catch a whiff of the stench of blood. Realizing the connotation of this, he’d open the door… creaking it open painstakingly slow, hoping that everything is alright. Yep, that what he’s going to find it there is someone who wanted to pull a prank and leave a dead fox or the like hidden behind the couch.
He stared in horror, unable to rip his eyes away from the blood staining your clothes at your chest, and the drag streaks across the floor to put you in the entryway. The broken window, along with the handprints clearly dragged down the couch cushions and across the floor.
“Who did this to you?” he growled through clenched fists and blurry eyes, ignorant of the world around him as he got on his knees and held your hands in his.
Still… warm. Killed no longer an hour ago. Oh… man alive, if only he came to the house earlier to have lunch with you (like he said he would) rather than heading off to fetch a gift before he returned home. Maybe then he would have had a chance at apprehending this terrorizer of the people. If only he had…
“Halt!” said a guard standing behind him. He could feel the cold metal of the spear creeping onto his neck from just a few centimeters away. Then, proceeding that, he hears the voice of his co-worker.
Hesitation follows, before a clearing of the throat.
“Shikanoin Heizou. You are being detained and charged under suspicions of murdering (full name) ______ _______. Come along, anything said will be used against you during the investigation.”
The detective couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
With hiccups in his sobs and hyperventilation, he turned his head around as he still held your hands. He kept his composure seeing your deceased figure, but began crying when someone accused him of murdering his lover in cold blood. How could someone not fall apart? You were his partner. His friend. Lover. Other half, he would call it. How dare someone try to pin the blame on him?
“You know I would never kill them,” Heizou said, letting go of your hands as he put his own up in the air. “I loved them so much, why would I kill them…? You were with me when I was getting a gift for…” He would devolve back into his hiccups as he whispered your name uncontrollably.
The silence was deafening. And so was the walk down to the prison. The one in which hundreds of criminals were detained—for crimes similarly horrendous and mundane. Never in a million years would he imagine that he would end up wrongfully accused in this position—just like that Oni fellow.
… after the ordeal passed over, the case closed with Heizou being released, but some person coming forth admitting how they murdered you. Yet, in his heart; the detective knew that your killer roamed free, using this poor woman as a scapegoat for some reason or another.
Unable to continue sleeping in the house that the both of you shared, he would rent a room at an inn and lay awake at night, thinking of how you’d cuddle with him and doze off with him—light snores filling the air from the both of you. But every thought of you was replaced was the image of you on that fated morning, making him shiver and forcing his tears out to roll down his cheeks.
Smothering his face in the pillows, he’d sniffle and absorb the scent of the fresh cloth casing, reminding himself of the scent of you to put him to sleep for the next hour before heading off to work to chase your killer.
Even now, he still leaves his sheets to wash in the sunlight, just like you did when you tended to the house.
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© ATHELIASNOTEBOOK — DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, STEAL, REPOST, OR MODIFY ANY WORKS. TRANSLATIONS ARE ALLOWED, BUT PLEASE CREDIT THE AUTHOR AND ASK BEFORE TRANSLATING.
☚ BACK TO LANDING AND FIND MORE POSTS!
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: If you're interested in part two, please feel free to request to be on a taglist for it in an ask! Part two will include Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Thoma, and Xiao :)
302 notes · View notes
atheliasnotebook · 1 year
Text
𝐎𝐇, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋
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Time waits for nobody. Although they wish that they had just enough to properly say goodbye, the only thing they can hold onto is the bittersweet memories of you.
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑(𝐒): AYATO KAMISATO, ALBEDO, DILUC RAGNVINDR, SHIKANOIN HEIZOU
𝐓𝐀𝐆/𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): READER DEATH, ANGST, NO COMFORT, SLIGHT BODY HORROR (HEIZOU)
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▶ 【 HOW HE NEVER GOT TO SAY HOW MUCH HE TRULY LOVED YOU 】
When AYATO heard of your passing, he had only just gotten back from a long trip of arranging some negotiations regarding support for other noble houses. As the head of a prestigious organization, it was only natural to adopt skepticism with a hint of cynicality—for it is the only way to survive in the world of the rich. Yet, he had nurtured a respectable, yet amiable attitude between every one of the attendants. That’s why the news he received upon arrival was jaw-dropping—when he saw every single attendant and guard of the estate lined up with sunken expressions and creased eyebrows of amalgamated despondency and condolences. When he was informed, the only thing he managed to choke out was:
“Take me to them.”
Thoma and Ayaka—right by his sides, walked in with wildly different expressions, despite each of them holding their breaths. The two standing beside him inhaled deeply, hoping that what they would see wasn’t real—while the man in the middle stared and creaked open the doors, exhaled to brace the pain.
And yet, you laid there on a multitude of sheets and pillows, the colors of the quilts coincidentally reminding Ayato of your seemingly colorful personality. You had passed in your sleep, but to all three of the figures looking at you, she and he and he only wished that the life you had wasn’t so… short-lived. The lady had sobbed as Thoma took her into a tight hug, while Ayato had taken a knee and examined your features, thinking of your dignity and how much he treasured you as his lover.
The days, and the weeks, and even the months following your death—he craved to hear your voice. Whether if you’d be humming, mumbling something to yourself, or even talking to someone nearby—he replays the way you’d call his name and compliment him over and over in his head.
Although busy with the toils of work, it had never been so quiet. With a sigh, as he signed off on a contract, he muttered regrets with tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
“I love you,” he’d mumble, looking down at the paper as he talked to nobody—but rather, somebody who had passed long ago. Oh, if only he got the chance to truly tell you how much he loved you.
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▶ 【 FIRST DENIAL, THEN MANIA 】
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When ALBEDO had found you, Kaeya was frantically trying to dig through the blankets of ice to pull you out of the sea of snow. The two of you were heading up to visit the alchemist and see how he was doing on his new project, but the avalanche that came and hit the both of you heeded no warning to its catastrophe. Off in the distance, he had heard someone calling your name, followed by his. The captain of cavalry, with huffed breaths and panic struck in his eyes, glanced at Albedo with a look that cried for help.
And for an hour they had searched for you until Albedo had found your hand sticking out from beneath the snow, covered in frost and pale with cold. He began calling for Kaeya as he began pulling you out from the land that sucked your vessel into it like a black hole, desperate to see you—no, to save you. For you were the only person that he learned to love, despite the fact that he didn’t show much emotion—particularly after receiving his vision. With every pull and tug, all while trying to be as gentle as possible with your body, they got you out, seeing how your lips had turned blue and snow had tangled in your hair.
“We have to get them to camp… there’s still a chance of saving them!” he exhaled the words, slinging his arm beneath your knees and supporting your back as he clings you tightly. He ran down the snow to retreat into his lab and begin setting you by the fire, laid down on his jacket.
ALBEDO had hope that he could save you. He kept the fire running every single day, upkeeping it regularly in hopes that you awakened. Yet, Kaeya knew that you were long gone from the moment the avalanche had hit, but he didn’t remind Albedo of that bitter fact. More than anyone, the painter should know better than anyone that you were gone.
But rather than a simple acceptance of your death, he was insistent on brewing a potion that could revitalize the recently deceased. First, it only was a curious thought that rapidly evolved into a sort of craze, followed by a mania and obsession of trying to save you. What is it that he truly craved from you? Your voice? What about the attention? The help you gave him in the lab? The kindness? No, he remembered. Romance.
It was only when Kaeya had shown up to snap Albedo out of his insanity that he had broken down, collapsing in a chair as he clutched the cloth right over his chest with his left hand.
“Captain,” he mumbles, sobbing silently as he squeaks out words without getting his stuffy-nasal tone stuck in the words. “I know. But could you at least let me try to save the person who taught me what it means to love?”
But eventually, through much talk, Albedo had budged and allowed the city to cremate you. Yet, that’s when his plans with the way he typically budgeted his finances went downhill. Most of it was all for paints and new canvases that he’d use to sketch and dance his brush across with wet and thick colors—all attempting to paint the beauty of your figure captured in your facial features, especially your eyes (because that was the part of your body he loved looking at most). He racked his brain over and over trying to find an image in his mind that could encapsulate the true nature of your beauty. Finally, he settled on an image most beautiful: a flower crown of Cecilia atop your ahead as you smiled with your (color) eyes sparkling beneath sunlight.
“My beautiful flower…” he sighs wistfully with a tinge of sadness, putting the small amount of gold paint mixed with your ashes to highlight the brightness of your complexion. Gorgeous, as always.
But despite how much your death racked him, he’d still continue to paint pictures of you every single week. After all—he believes that this is the one true way of preserving your beauty for all eternity, and until the day he dies.
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▶ 【 JUST A LITTLE MORE TIME 】
DILUC had known that you were physically weak, yet, decided to overlook your imperfections because he had adored you so dearly. T’was a day that your boyfriend was working at the tavern, and thus, meant another day you could use to surprise him. With pleading eyes and hands pressed together in a praying manner, you beseeched Elzer to ask him to prepare some grape jam and homemade bread as a surprise for Diluc when he got home.
Everything was faring well, and you successfully picked enough grapes and put the bread in the oven before collapsing, hitting the wooden-polished floors with a thud and an outcry. Elzer and Adelinde, startled by your seize, assisted you as you felt your body beginning to go limp.
Insisting on getting you back up to the ‘master’s’ room, you shook your head weakly. The breaths you took in were as comparably short to the amount of life keft in your voice. Immediately, with haste, Elzer requested his eagle to deliver a message to Mondstadt, hoping Diluc could receive word and come back as soon as possible.
Deep down, he probably knows that the Master would never forgive him for allowing you to go out and exert yourself this way.
… when Diluc retrieved the message, his eyes widened as he furrowed his eyebrows?
“What?” he asked, more scared than frustrated. What could have happened in the few hours that he was away?
Without an ounce of any pardon to his job, he yelled at everyone to leave, shutting the door as he hopped on his horse and began riding all the way back in the midday burning of the Mondstadt summer. The heat didn’t bother him beneath all his heavy coats and garments… instead, he kept muttering your name under his breath.
“______, ______, please be okay—“ he begged, a sense of relief washing over him as he sees the Winery come into vision as his steed clops over the dirt path and over the grass. Stopping directly in front of the front gate, he hopped off his horse, tossing the reins to a nearby attendant as he dashed into the house—not even bothering to take off his coat.
And there he saw you laid up against the kitchen counter sitting on the floor, weakly chuckling as you reached out for him.
“Darling,” he said, panting heavy breaths in between. “Darling, I’m here—“ he trembled, shaking as he ran his hand over yours, slightly sweaty from the haste he made getting over to you. The smell of grapes and fresh breas pierces the air and empty atmosphere of just the two of you. “What. Happened.”
“Oh… y’know…” you muttered. “I just wanted to prepare a surprise for you—“
You coughed, wheezing as you slowly replied with seconds in between each word.
“But I guess that didn’t go as planned,” you chuckled, closing your eyes as he gripped onto your hands tighter. “… did it?”
No, he thinks. “No,” he mumbled aloud, shaking you as he pulled you tight into a hug. It was… warm. And everything felt like a blanket wrapped around you during the cold of winter, despite the weather. It makes you… sleepy.
“Please, ______, darling, you have to stay awake—“ He sucked in a breath, hugging you tighter as he began to feel a hole ripping in his heart.
And he felt as you lifted your arms to cup his cheeks and press a kiss on his lips one last time, and watched painfully as your body fell limp in his embrace.
“No…” he whispered, tears pouring down his cheeks in silence as he holds you—looking at your smiling face.
If only he had more time. If only he were faster. If only he could trade the time that he has to give you a longer life. If only you could have more time. Maybe his time, he thinks, sliding a pan of bread into the oven on the anniversary of your death years later.
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▶ 【 YOUR SCENT STILL DANCES IN THE AIR, EVEN WHEN YOU'RE NOT HERE ANYMORE 】
SHIKANOIN HEIZOU, the No. 1 detective in Inazuma, is one of the smartest men in the entirety of the Tenryou’s ranks.
But, in his eyes, not smart enough to find the person who murdered you.
Upon returning home on an afternoon in the middle of the week, he called for you. “Love! I’m ho…” he’d begin saying, before realizing the door was unlocked, creaked open.
Now, with a scowl painted across his countenance, he’d stop moving, looking around for any hints of tracks. None went in or out the front door, but carefully, creaking the door open—he’d catch a whiff of the stench of blood. Realizing the connotation of this, he’d open the door… creaking it open painstakingly slow, hoping that everything is alright. Yep, that what he’s going to find it there is someone who wanted to pull a prank and leave a dead fox or the like hidden behind the couch.
He stared in horror, unable to rip his eyes away from the blood staining your clothes at your chest, and the drag streaks across the floor to put you in the entryway. The broken window, along with the handprints clearly dragged down the couch cushions and across the floor.
“Who did this to you?” he growled through clenched fists and blurry eyes, ignorant of the world around him as he got on his knees and held your hands in his.
Still… warm. Killed no longer an hour ago. Oh… man alive, if only he came to the house earlier to have lunch with you (like he said he would) rather than heading off to fetch a gift before he returned home. Maybe then he would have had a chance at apprehending this terrorizer of the people. If only he had…
“Halt!” said a guard standing behind him. He could feel the cold metal of the spear creeping onto his neck from just a few centimeters away. Then, proceeding that, he hears the voice of his co-worker.
Hesitation follows, before a clearing of the throat.
“Shikanoin Heizou. You are being detained and charged under suspicions of murdering (full name) ______ _______. Come along, anything said will be used against you during the investigation.”
The detective couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
With hiccups in his sobs and hyperventilation, he turned his head around as he still held your hands. He kept his composure seeing your deceased figure, but began crying when someone accused him of murdering his lover in cold blood. How could someone not fall apart? You were his partner. His friend. Lover. Other half, he would call it. How dare someone try to pin the blame on him?
“You know I would never kill them,” Heizou said, letting go of your hands as he put his own up in the air. “I loved them so much, why would I kill them…? You were with me when I was getting a gift for…” He would devolve back into his hiccups as he whispered your name uncontrollably.
The silence was deafening. And so was the walk down to the prison. The one in which hundreds of criminals were detained—for crimes similarly horrendous and mundane. Never in a million years would he imagine that he would end up wrongfully accused in this position—just like that Oni fellow.
… after the ordeal passed over, the case closed with Heizou being released, but some person coming forth admitting how they murdered you. Yet, in his heart; the detective knew that your killer roamed free, using this poor woman as a scapegoat for some reason or another.
Unable to continue sleeping in the house that the both of you shared, he would rent a room at an inn and lay awake at night, thinking of how you’d cuddle with him and doze off with him—light snores filling the air from the both of you. But every thought of you was replaced was the image of you on that fated morning, making him shiver and forcing his tears out to roll down his cheeks.
Smothering his face in the pillows, he’d sniffle and absorb the scent of the fresh cloth casing, reminding himself of the scent of you to put him to sleep for the next hour before heading off to work to chase your killer.
Even now, he still leaves his sheets to wash in the sunlight, just like you did when you tended to the house.
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𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: If you're interested in part two, please feel free to request to be on a taglist for it in an ask! Part two will include Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Thoma, and Xiao :)
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