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jays-bookmarks · 4 days
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daydreaming about snuggling up to Dr. Ratio at night in bed - your head is firmly plotted against his chest and one of his big arms surrounds your shoulders. your own arms have him captured into your sleepy embrace, but he doesn't mind one bit as he uses his free hand to read his nightly book.
he enjoys silent nights like these, and having you snuggled up to him makes it that much better. you won't find him complaining about the lack of conversation at night - he needs his time to wind down from his aggravating day, anyway. and his stress settles even faster with you here attached to him - it makes him sleepy too, but also feel wanted.
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jays-bookmarks · 20 days
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Darling, Kiss Me.
— Kissing Scenarios with Honkai Men.
— Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Sampo, Welt, Dan Feng + Blade
[Masterlist]
I’m alive, surprise. This is an old fic that I managed to finish but I must have been injected with 40ccs of something because I don’t remember this being so sappy. I’m also editing this on my phone.
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Dan Heng
Despite Dan Heng's outwardly stoic and blank expressions, his actions show his hidden affectionate nature reserved for the ones he cares about most. When March wants to take a picture, he will throw up a peace sign even though he never smiles brightly for the photo. When Himeko brews her infamous coffee, he drinks it under the pretense of "stamina training," yet he downs it all the same. But with you, it's slightly different. The intimacy you both share is silent, one that doesn't require flowery words to convey the comfort you find in each other's company. His eyes will soften slightly whenever he looks at you, and even in a crowded room, his gaze automatically shifts to yours as if drawn to you. How he always has an arm around your waist if the ground is uneven and how he doesn't shy away from your touch either but wordlessly leans into the warmth. Likewise, you have a fondness for the simple acts. Stepping to the side to always make space for him in group conversations and most importantly, brushing his hair. It's short and always relatively straight, but it's a simple act that you treasure. Plus he makes a sound similar to a purr when he closes his eyes to relish in your gentle touch that has your heart warming.
"Dan Heng?" you breathe softly above him, and he lifts his head with a gentle hum. Your hands move from his hair to cradle his face, fingertips drawing soothing circles before your thumb rests on his bottom lip. It makes him smile a tad, your unspoken desire is evident and he opens his eyes to peer up at your shy expression. "May I kiss you?"
His silent nod confirms your wish, and the anticipation in his eyes has you biting your lip to stifle your giggle. Without wasting another second, you tuck your hair behind your ear and lean down to give him a deep kiss. The feelings of you so close to him, your chest against his back, his face in your hands, the contrast between his roughness and your soft demeanor sends a shiver of delight through his body. But unlike him, you have to break away shortly to catch your breath. Though he doesn't let you breathe for too long.
"Again," he whispers, his eyes laced with desire. Your giggle rings out, a delightful sound that brings a smile to his face. As you intertwine your fingers with his, you lean in to kiss him once more.
Gepard
Gepard wonders how everyone would react if they knew their disciplined Captain was nothing more than a hopeless lovesick fool. How you would react if you knew how often he sits at his desk and daydreams of you rather than getting any actual work done. He leans his chin against his head, blankly staring at the most recent report that sits on his desk, yet his thoughts revolve around you. The messy bed hair that greeted him in the bathroom mirror, the sleepy good mornings and goodbyes before he left for work, and the small peck on the cheek as you sent him off.
He takes his earlier thought back. He wonders how his younger self would react knowing that the Gepard now can't even get through a few minutes without thinking about his spouse. What reaction would he have seeing the ring on his finger?
"Are you slacking off Captain?" a voice calls from behind as a pair of hands covers his eyes before he feels something soft against his forehead. He nearly breaks his desk when he jumps, accidentally hitting his knee, and the resounding thud has him wincing, but he quickly covers it with a pained smile. It does nothing to placate you as you rush to his side with concerned eyes and your hands already ready to soothe whatever injury he has.
"Are you alright?" you ask, your adorable concern shines through with the way your eyes scatter around to see if he has any other injuries. How meek you look with your hands locked together nervously, the way your lips downturn into a cute pout. But his enamourment time is cut short as he quickly stands from his seat to place two hands on your shoulder and give you a reassuring smile.
"Yes, I'm alright. Although, what are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see you of course," he flushes at his startled reaction to your presence, but you don't seem to take any offense if your smile is anything to go by. You tilt your head at him, a cheeky smile playing on your lips, as you wrap your arms around his middle.
"Geppie, it's lunchtime. We're supposed to go out, remember?" You shake your head, but the fondness of your tone and the nickname stir a gentle affection within him. He easily picks you up into his arms, the delighted squeal and another kiss on the cheek he gets for the action that brings a smile to his face, as he waltzes out the door with you.
Jing Yuan
Jing Yuan isn't the Arbiter-Generals of the Xianzhou Alliance's Cloud Knights for nothing. Even with the "dozing" term attached to a rather prestigious title, he is fully aware of what you're doing. The attempts to weasel up to him, practically in his lap as you lean against him, only to pull away at the last moment. You playfully twirl his hair with your index finger before sticking your tongue out and skipping away.
But now it's night time and Jing Yuan can shed his title like the armor he smoothly removes in practiced motions. Right now, he is but a man who desires to kiss his tease of a lover. He doesn't give you a warning, this entire day has been a warning anyway, and he won't let you run away before getting his just dues. After all the playful antics, it's his turn now.
His eyes remain on his papers, but his ears are alert as he waits for your fifth sneak-up attack. Already attuned to the familiar rhythm of your footsteps approaching from behind as he counts down in his head. Your fingers brush against his hair, and he can sense the mischievous glint in your eyes, before he swiftly turns and scoops you up into his arms. The squeal that escapes you is more than worth it as you giggle and wiggle out of his hold.
"Nooo, let me go!" your cries are light-hearted and Jing Yuan revels in the moment of gentle playfulness that's desperately missing in his life as a general. You frantically continue tugging at anything that can free you, from the sleeve on his forearms to the lapels in his coat, you even crane your neck to bite his face as if you're a wild animal. Jing Yuan chuckles with a smug smile, and in the showmanship of strength, he easily stands up, his hands firmly under your knees in a secure but gentle grasp.
"Finally caught you," he breathes out softly before tilting his head down and closing the distance between your lips.
Sampo
"What exactly are you doing?" a voice sounds behind him, causing him to flinch slightly as he spins on his heel, his arms already up. He meets your frown with a cheerful smile and even a playful wink. Sadly, his charming facade has no affect on you, if anything it makes your frown deeper as your hands come up to cup around your mouth.
"Captain Gepard! There's a weird man he-"
"Wait! Wait! Stop! I'm sorry!" Sampo pleads, falling to his knees with his arms outstretched to latch his slimy hands around your waist as he nuzzles his face against your stomach. "Seriously, how could you do that to your own boyfriend?!"
You let out a sigh beyond your years but you sigh nonetheless. Your hands come up to pet Sampo's head, fingers brushing through his blue hair before your hand pushes away the strands lying upon his forehead so you can see both of his eyes. He peers up at you curiously before sending you another wink that you immediately pinch his cheek for.
"You know I wouldn't do that. Besides, what are you doing here exactly? If it is something scammy, I will tell Gepard," you say and Sampo gives you a devilish grin that has you instantly regretting asking. He unlatches himself from you to stand and reach for something in a wooden barrel. Before he pulls his arm out, he glances back at you to make sure your eyes are on him, before he pulls out a single white flower.
"For the most beautiful person in the galaxy. It's called a cecilia flower. A beautiful flower with a name that suits its appearance. It only grows where harsh winds blow, and is just as intangible as the true heart of an unbound soul. Here, for you," Sampo offers the flower to you and you tentatively reach out and grasp the delicate stem. You glance up at him to confirm, and Sampo nods with a sincere smile, and you let yourself fall into childlike glee of being gifted a flower.
"Thank you, Sampo," you whisper, "It's lovely."
A surprised squeak escapes your lips when Sampo nips at you, and then he starts peppering your face with soft kisses. It’s enough to distract you from asking how the hell he managed to get this flower.
Welt
Welt's caring nature knows no bounds for anyone he holds close to. Whether it's making sure the "youngster's" are well-prepared for their journey or making sure Himeko isn't downing her 7th cup of coffee, he ensures each interaction is filled with tenderness and care. Though he understands that everyone on the Express may come and go, he approaches every action with consideration and cherishing the time you spend with each other while it's still here.
In the quietness of the Express, where everyone has retired to their room, Welt sit's alone in the parlor alone. Even Pom-Pom has found a place to curl up and sleep the night away, leaving Welt to sit and bask in the silence. That is until he hears the familiar noise of the automatic door sliding open and he looks up to meet your startled eyes. You're both in a stand still as if he's caught you do something bad, regardless of the fact you're almost the same age, before he sends you a soft smile.
"Can't sleep? I understand — inspiration always comes knocking in the small hours. It's hard to ignore, right?" he asks voice almost a whisper as you sheepishly nod as you approach him and sit down beside him. It's a comforting silence between the two of you, the heat of your bodies drawn close together, as the world outside fades away. Until a soft hum escapes you and you lift your head to look at him, his small smile meeting your curious gaze, as he patiently waits for your inquiry.
"Can I kiss you?" you ask, your voice slightly raspy from the lack of sleep but the amusement that flickers in your eyes is active enough that Welt props himself up to look at you more directly.
"Right now?" he asks, curiosity lacing his voice at your abrupt request rather than scrutiny. You nod an answer as you shuffle closer, still giving enough distance should Welt be uncomfortable, but he doesn't pull away, instead reaching out to brush your hair back and tuck it behind your ears.
In a quiet shuffle, he moves closer to you, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. His fingers trace the curve of your face affectionately, his movements slow and thoughtful. The earlier teasing gives way to a moment of genuine intimacy, punctuated by the softness of his touch and the warmth of his gaze. As he leans in, you can feel his warm breath fanning your face, his eyes half-closed, as if savoring the anticipation of the moment. As he pulls you in, you close your eyes, the corners of your mouth lifting into a smile when his lips meet yours. The kiss is sweet and gentle, filled with the love that you share.
Dan Feng
Due to his position in the hierarchy of the Xianzhou, Dan Feng's desires are kept under a tight lid outside of his own control. His words and orders are listened to and acted upon, but when it comes to more personal wants, they are shut down entirely and removed. After all, their esteemed High Elder shouldn't be swayed by such material and emotional things. So when it comes to being selfish, Dan Feng will often imply his needs rather than outright stating them. Whether it's a simple request for your time over cups of steaming tea or a craving for the solace of your presence, it leaves you blindly guessing most of the time for what your dragon yearns for.
So naturally, as you walk ahead of him and the distance grows between you, you don't hear his faint coughs and subtle glances to catch your attention. He even makes a desperate attempt, reaching his hand out to catch your shoulder, but his hesitation catches him and his fingertips hover before you step away out of reach.
Thump Thump
He quickly reaches behind him to stop his tail from thumping against the wooden floors but it's too late. The noise makes you turn around, looking around the surrounding area before settling on him curiously. The slight tilt of your head as you silently question him if he heard the same sound as you did but all he can focus on is what that cute little action does to his heart. His grip on his tail tightens.
"High Elder? Is there something that is not to your standard?" you politely ask and he mentally huffs at your words. You're both alone, you don't need to address him like that anymore. A turquois scaly tail shifts out beneath his clothing, looping around your ankle, and with a good tug, he pulls you towards him.
"High Elder?" you asked, bewildered, as you look up to face an awkward Dan Feng. There's a fraction of a pout forming on his lips as he continues to stare elsewhere, his tail rhythmically tapping against your leg as if that will help you understand his hidden meaning. However, when you take too long, Dan Feng's eyes glance over to yours, the drift down to your lips, before snapping back up and away at the wall. He ignores how fast his cheeks heat up when you start giggling, even pressing your face into his chest to try and muffle it.
"Come here," you whisper, your hands trailing up from his shoulders to his cheeks as you pull him gently down. Even if he is the High Elder of the Vidyadhara, he follows your command.
Blade
Given Blade's past and present circumstances, he hasn't had the time to sit down and explore more complicated relationships, let alone friendships, even with his loosely named comrades. His days are restless, and he rarely sleeps much when every time he closes his eyes, a familiar pair of ocean eyes stare back before searing pain over his body jolts him awake.
You find yourself in this strange limbo of understanding but feeling the weight of his absence. You aren't sure where you stand in Blade's hierarchy of concerns. Whether you're on that list entirely or not. There are nights when he stumbles into your bed, but you'll never wake up to him in the morning. There are moments when he'll abruptly flinch away from you before leaving you behind in the comfort of your home. The constant back-and-forth leaves you both yearning for him, yet spiteful that this one man has so much control over your emotions. Sometimes it feels like it isn't worth it anymore.
However, those difficult moments are balanced by Blade's sincere efforts. How he'll turn his back to you when he places his sword away, how he'll bring you things when he's been gone for an especially long time, and how sometimes it looks like he's looking at you and not someone else. They all stir warmth in your heart, and you think to yourself that next time, next time for sure, you'll tell him to never come back.
"Are you leaving?" you whisper behind him as he pulls his coat back onto his shoulders. The low beam of the streetlamps peeking through your window is the only source of light, but it's enough to see Blade nod. Although it's not like you need confirmation, you've been through this song and dance far too many times, "This is the las-".
In a sudden and unexpected twist of fate, Blade turns around and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. His hand comes up to press your head gently against his chest, so close that you can't see his expression.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs into the quietness of the night as he kisses the top of your head.
"I'll be back soon," is all he says. Those are his parting words before he disappears into the night and leaves you alone in your quiet house once again.
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jays-bookmarks · 2 months
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Tentatively
Summary:
You don’t want to tell him the truth, that most of your friends have grown up and don’t talk to you anymore, that while you love your family it’s too difficult to find time to travel and see them, that you are incredibly lonely.
Contains: Fem Reader, Death Mention (but only as much as you would expect given the source material) Word Count: 2,235 Read on AO3
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You still feel strange a few hours after leaving the chatroom. Grim, who despite all evidence to the contrary, is actually the Grim Reaper, left pretty abruptly after telling you there is something incredibly wrong with your soul and you are unsure if you should be concerned or offended about the whole thing. 
After a disappointing meal of microwaved leftovers and an attempt at enjoying a relaxing bath despite your apartment’s abysmal water temperature, you find yourself laying back on your bed and staring up at the all too uninteresting ceiling as you wait for your hair to dry. The window above your desk is open and the cool breeze is pleasant, but you’re already getting the sense that you will have trouble getting to sleep tonight, despite Grim’s uncharacteristic insistence that you get some rest after today. 
There’s something so lonely about these summer nights, lonely enough that you find yourself scrolling through your contacts list, looking for someone ( anyone ) to talk to. Calling your parents this late will only make them worry, and all of your friends from uni have much better sleep schedules than you do and will already be out cold. You toss your phone onto the vacant pillow beside you and let out a sigh, that really only leaves one option. 
Hoisting yourself from the bed, you walk over to the desk and grab your laptop. Quickly tapping open the chatroom app and turning off your camera before hitting the call button. You push your lamp and pot-plant out of the way to leave room for the laptop on your bedside table and lay back down as you wait for an answer. 
You spend the first seven rings worrying that he won't pick up, by the eighth you are proven wrong.
“I thought I already told you to go to sleep.” He says in lieu of a greeting. 
All the lethargic energy in the room suddenly dissipates, and your mouth tugs up in a smile, “Hello to you too”
“I was being serious.”
“Yeah, but you aren’t my boss.” He huffs, “I am your reaper.” “Oh?” You reply, smirking to yourself, “ My reaper, are you? Just mine?” “No! I- I’m just assigned to you. That does not mean-”
You laugh, “Sorry, sorry. I’m just teasing, thank you for picking up, I mean it.” It’s quiet, but you swear that you hear a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the call, “I- well, I just wanted to be certain that you were not suffering any side effects from the soul connection.” He clears his throat, “You…aren’t…are you?”
“I’m having trouble sleeping, but I don’t think I can blame that on you. I suppose I feel a little jittery? But that makes sense given my emotional state right now.” “What is it?” “What’s what?” “Your uh- your emotional state.”
“Oh.” You say, feeling your heart beating a rapid tattoo behind your ribs, “Well, I dunno. I’m a little overwhelmed, I suppose. I really just thought you were an edgy cosplayer, and I mean, you still are but you are also literally the Grim Reaper, so I’m still just dealing with that I guess.”
“That is perfectly normal, then. Though you should have been feeling frightened the moment I contacted you, your reaction was quite delayed.” “Hey! I never said ‘frightened’ I said overwhelmed! That’s a completely different emotion.”
He chuckles, “Unable to stop thinking about me, then?” “That also isn't what I said.” Though, he isn’t entirely wrong, “I’m just worried about how I'm going to focus at work tomorrow when I’ll be spending the whole day looking over my shoulder to make sure some white-haired twink isn't about to commit murder upon me.” 
“White-haired what? ” “Twinnnnk~” You reply, “Look it up, I’m sure that will keep you busy for a few hours.” “I hardly need to be kept busy , I have important work to do.” “Like stealing my soul.” “Yours and others, I do not just follow you around all day.” He says dryly, “You are not that important. Also, I will not be murdering you. I am pushing you in the correct direction, one you have stubbornly been avoiding for far too long.” You hum quietly to yourself, reaching out to pat your cat where he sits next to you on the bed, “How was I meant to die anyway? Just out of curiosity, since you seem to know everything about it.” He doesn't answer for some time, and the deafening silence makes you regret even posing the question. 
“Do you really want to know?” He finally asks, “Most people never find out, because unlike you they die when they are supposed to.” “Hit me with it, Grimmy.” He groans, “Do not call me that.” then you hear him sigh, deeply, contemplatively, “You were supposed to die of food poisoning.” “Oh.” You reply, feeling your heart sink a little, “Damn, that sucks. That’s so…boring”
“Death often is.” “I guess, well, I guess I was hoping that the way I die might be interesting at least. What food would have poisoned me anyway?” “Ham sandwich.” “Yikes. Was the ham poisoned or something?” “No, just expired. On a related note, you do need to clean out your fridge more often.” He’s right. Your fridge is pretty nasty, and it kind of always has been. It’s a very low priority on your list of tasks.
“Grim?”
“Yes?”
You swallow, unsure how to phrase the real question hiding in the recesses of your mind, “could you…I dunno, kill me gently, if it comes to it? I mean, I just-“ you roll over onto your side, making eye contact with the black screen of your laptop, “If I have to die, I don’t want it to hurt.”
There’s silence for a moment, and then he replies, “I don’t want it to hurt you either.”
“That’s…sweet, Thank you.” “Lacking desire to see you suffer does not make me sweet , it makes me considerate .” He sighs irritably, “More importantly, does this mean you’re finally willing to hand over your soul?” You laugh, “ No! I just- I dunno, I had a weird day and I'm feeling kinda existential now.” You look through your window, staring up at the night sky, “Do you feel that way sometimes, or is it just a human thing?”
“I do not see how that’s any of your business.” “C’mon, Grim. Just play along for once, get silly with it.” You hear him huff on the other end of the line, you can picture the exact pouty face he must be making right now, “I have been a reaper as long as I can remember, and will continue to be one for the rest of my life, there is little for me to be existential about.”
“Hm.” 
“What?” He says brusquely, “What are you ‘hm-ing’ about?”
“The thought of having one job for the rest of my life is exactly the sort of thing that makes me existential, that’s all.” “Well you don’t have to work at the same job for the rest of your life, so what exactly are you complaining about?” “I mean, the rest of my life might only be a few more days.” You say, “Provided you win our bet of course, which you will not be doing.” “Do not doubt me, Sunshine. You may come to regret it.” You giggle, “Doubtful.” There’s a rustling sound on the other end of the call, you can only assume that he is also lying in bed right now, “I am quite literally death, and I even gave you concrete proof of this fact this evening.” his voice turns quiet, dare you think it, wistful, “Why aren’t you afraid of me?” You shrug, even though he can’t see you, “You aren’t very scary.”
“I am going to take your soul .” “You are going to try and take my soul.” a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, “And even if you do, you’ve already promised to do it gently .” “I promised not to hurt you, I never said anything about being gentle .” 
“I’m sorry, I just don’t see the difference between those two statements.” He groans, and when he speaks again his voice is muffled. You suspect he has his face buried in a pillow, “You are infuriating. When I leave the chatroom for the evening I assume that I am done with you, I was not prepared for you to insist on continuing our conversation well into the night.”
“What, are you tired?” All goes quiet for a moment, and then, “No. Are you?” “Nope.” “Hmph, you should be at this hour, especially after a day of work.”
“I- well, I dunno…”
You don’t want to tell him the truth, that most of your friends have grown up and don’t talk to you anymore, that while you love your family it’s too difficult to find time to travel and see them, that you are incredibly lonely. You are tired, you have to be up at 5:00 to get ready for work tomorrow morning, but the idea of saying goodbye, of hanging up, makes something ache deep inside you. Something inside the very soul he wants to steal. 
“You don’t know, what?”
“Huh?” Grim huffs again, “You said, ‘i dunno’ and then stopped talking, which is very out of character for you, by the way.” “Oh? Did you miss me? Were even those brief seconds of silence enough to make you realize how much you love hearing my voice?” “I will hang up.” 
“Don’t.” You say before you have time to think better of it, “Please.”
“I-“ he clears his throat, “Only if you can act normally for the rest of our conversation.”
“I’m plenty normal, you’re the weird one.”
“What’s weird, how am I weird?”
You roll onto your back, staring up at the celing, “Oh i dunno, just the whole ‘I am death incarnate! I have come for your soul! I will connect my soul to yours! ’ schtik” 
“You know fully well that it is not a…what did you call it? A schtik?” He pronounces the word completely wrong, “Whatever that is, it is not one of those. I am death incarnate, I am here for you soul, and you were literally an active part in the soul connection.”
“Oh, about that soul connection thing, by the way.” He scoffs, “Your ability to change the subject at a whim is still strong as ever i see.” 
“I know, I’m very talented- anyway! I wanted to ask if you can do anything cool now that we have a soul link or whatever.” “I have already told you, I cannot control your body. As entertaining as it would be to embarrass you publicly, even my exceptional abilities could not do that” 
“Oh kay , how about something easier, then?” You feel the warmth of your cat as he snuggles up against your side and instinctively reach out to pat him, “Read my mind, go on!” “I cannot do that.” “C’mon, Grimmy, give it a go!” You squeeze your eyes shut, “I’m thinking about something real hard right now.” He sighs, “Are you thinking about your cat?” “ Whaaaat? How did you know?!”
“I didn’t know , i guessed. I can’t read your mind, but i am still attuned with your soul.” His voice has turned uncharacteristically soft, he’s almost whispering, “It… flutters …when you are happy, and your cat makes you happy. So I guessed…”
“So you’re a soul reader, then?” You ask, trying to ignore the fact that your stomach also feels oddly fluttery right now.
“That is not a thing. You’re just making things up now.”
“Try again.” You say, your mind unwittingly flooded with thoughts of soft white hair and judgemental red eyes. Of hands you wish were bare, of sharp toothed smiles. Your heart slows to a languid rhythm, and something you aren’t ready to put a name to curls warmly in your belly. You close your eyes, softly this time, and breathe, “What am i thinking about now?”
He goes silent for a long time, you can hear the slow, even draw of his breath. You can picture him laying back on his bed, hair splayed over the pillow, brow creased in concentration and you wonder if he is thinking about you too. After what feels like an age, he finally answers, “your…plant?”
You burst into laughter and any tension in the air shatters, “My plant?! What about my soul was screaming plant just then?”
“Well, I don’t know! It was just happy again, happier, even and I assumed that you were smart enough not to just think about your cat again.” 
“Yeah, you got me.” You lie, “it was my cat again.”
“Hells, every single day you find a new way to get under my skin.” He sighs, and despite his earlier statement, his next words come out almost fondly , “You need sleep, mortal.”
“Yeah.” You reply, feeling that ache tug at you again, “I probably do.”
“I will talk to you tomorrow, that is, if you survive until then.”
That gets a laugh out of you, and you can’t tell if that was his intention or if he was being completely serious, “I look forward to it. Remember to murder me nicely, Grim.”
“As nicely as I can, I swear.” You can hear his smile, “Goodnight, Sunshine.”
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jays-bookmarks · 2 months
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kisses for you. kisses for me. pt. 2
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⋯⁂ summary. what it's like kissing him.
⋯⁂ a/n. short and sweet, barely edited, etc. a follow-up to my first one that featured zhongli, neuvi, alhaitham, and freminet.
⋯⁂ characters. tartaglia. wriothesley. lyney. wanderer. gn reader.
⋯⁂ cw. fluff. physical affection (kissing).
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tartaglia.
confident, but a little cracked. it's not that he forgets to take care of himself - no, yeah, it's because he forgets to take care of himself. he's not even aware his lips are cracked until they bleed or you point it out to him. and then he'll ask the cheesiest question, "wanna kiss 'em better, then?" he's very confident in his kisses, even to the point of being a little rough with you. this man, you swear to the high heavens, forgets his own strength more often than not.
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wriothesley.
a little chilly, surprisingly soft. it's probably from all the tea that he drinks that makes his lips as soft as they are. it's also the cause behind you being able to taste what tea he's been having today. you have a little game with him - you get to kiss him and then you have to figure out what tea he had this morning. if you get it right? you get even more kisses!
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lyney.
soft and well taken care of, but oh so very teasing. he doesn't linger long on your lips, teasing you until you chase after him or whine to him to give you a real kiss. he'll give you one eventually, of course, but oh it's just too fun to tease you relentlessly. when he does give you a real kiss, though? well, let's say he's quite the romantic with how slow and deep his kisses can get.
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wanderer.
surprisingly decent at it, even with somewhat dry lips. he doesn't kiss you very often - finding the act rather embarrassing, even when it's only you two in the room or area. often comes up with excuses to not kiss you if you're in a public (or even semi-public) space - he finds it that embarrassing. if you can manage to surprise kiss him, you swear you can see his brain short-circuit as he stands there with his mouth partially gaping and eyes blown wide. how cute. but don't do it too often, he has his ways of getting back at you.
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jays-bookmarks · 3 months
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Safety!
{Debuted} Harbingers driving with you!
Modern AU, can be seen as platonic or romantic, gn!reader, Scara can be seen as Wanderer (vice versa)
A/N : God, don't ask why Scara/Wanwan is so detailed in colouring.
Go ahead make headcanon/blurb based on this!
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Childe
He is a big brother, he is used to strap his younger siblings to the car seat.
And he probably has sensory sensitivity with the beeping noises from the car whenever a safety belt isn't on.
NUMBER ONE IS SAFETY!! SEATBELT ON!!
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Scaramouche/Wanderer
He prefers riding bike (like an asian man he is) because he doesn't want people to hitch a ride with him.
He doesn't care, he just don't want to be sued if something happen to you (a lil bit of caring in his own way.)
Don't put stickers on his helmet.
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Dottore
As a doctor, you could be a free future-to-be cadaver for him.
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Signora
She has her own personal driver to pick both of you up.
Doesn't really care tbh, because she is also rarely wear seatbelt.
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Arlecchino
A mum and a dad
She would give you "that look" and count down from 5, and if you didn't put on the seatbelt she will-
"There you go, isn't it that hard to fasten the seatbelt?"
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jays-bookmarks · 3 months
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“I belong to you.”
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As far as Blade knew, there was only one person in his life that he was eternally loyal to. But you see, he couldn’t admit it. Every time he saw you, his heart pounded in his chest, his eyes followed you, and his mind was filled with images of you. He became distracted and easy to beat. Even Silver Wolf had criticized him for it.
Something within his very dwindling soul called out to him, conveying these confusing feelings he dealt with on a near daily basis. His mouth couldn’t say the words, but his heart had already solidified it.
Whether you were with him or not, whether he saw you or not, whether you even remembered him or not… Blade knew he just belonged to you.
Restless nights lead him to wonder what history you two had. None as far as he knew. None as far as Kafka knew. You even seemed a stranger to Dan Heng, someone he had history with. So why did he feel the way he did. The unending pain and sorrow of loneliness was suddenly quelled by a single thought of you. Not so unending now, was it?
Blade knew you. How? He didn’t know. But you existed somewhere in his past once upon a time. You had to.
That or he was insane.
No. Being able to recall every single feature of your face when he closed his eyes after only seeing you two times… that wasn’t insanity. Being able to remember your voice without ever hearing you speak wasn’t insanity. Being able to smell your lovely scent without ever being near you wasn’t insanity.
Blade was cursed, but he wasn’t insane. Not just yet, anyway. Every passing day he became more and more assured he knew you at some point.
But… there was just one problem. He couldn’t find you. At first, he figured you were upon the Astral Express, but when Silver Wolf had visited the Trailblazer, she confirmed you weren’t on board and never had been. The Trailblazer didn’t even know who you were.
So, you weren’t part of the crew. Just who were you? That question popped up in the Stellaron Hunter’s mind more than once in a given day. More than ten times. More than fifty.
Ok, maybe he was going crazy.
But there was one thing he was sure of. So sure, he would abandon everything just to prove it. He would betray anyone just to see you and talk to you.
“I know I belong to you…” his hoarse voice pierced the silent atmosphere as Blade stared at himself in the mirror in his darkened room. He placed a hand on his chest, feeling his slow heartbeat. His calm heartbeat. All it took was one thought of you. “The day I find you, I’ll ask you to take me back… no matter what that takes.”
For now, Blade was alone and his mind was plagued with thoughts of a person he couldn’t even find. But he hoped when he did see you, you’d have some answers for him.
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jays-bookmarks · 4 months
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“Do you love me?”
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ꨄ︎ Wanderer *✧・゚
“Do stupid questions just come naturally to you or something? Of course, I love you. What made you doubt it?” You explained that it was just a question with no hidden meaning behind it. “Ok, weirdo. Yeah, I love you. If you wanted me to say it, all you had to do was say it first. Not make me think you’re questioning my feelings towards you.”
ꨄ︎ Kamisato Ayato *✧・゚
“Huh? Oh- of course, I do. Did someone say something to you? You’ve never questioned my love before.” His confusion was quickly laid to rest once you clarified it was just a silly question. “Oh, well I wouldn’t consider it silly. I adore you, so much so, that I can’t be away from you for too long. Or I’ll start missing you and then I can’t do my work.”
ꨄ︎ Alhaitham *✧・゚
“Yeah I guess I do.” Alhaitham immediately stiffens when he sees that look in your eyes. “Wait, no! Hold on. That’s not what I meant. I… it’s new to me. Feeling that way towards someone so much that it hurts is new. I didn’t mean that I guess I l-love you. I mean… yes, I do. So much that I can’t even put it into words.”
ꨄ︎ Kazuha *✧・゚
“Just love you? Sometimes, I feel those words are too simple to explain how much I need you. But yes, I love you. Should you break my heart tomorrow, curse me to the hells, and abandon me… it wouldn’t change how I feel. Not one bit. You don’t need to love me back or be kind to me, even. But, thank you for loving me too.”
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jays-bookmarks · 4 months
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“What if we broke up?”
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✧˚ · . Neuvillette
“Why would we break up? Have I done something to upset you? I’ll fix it.” Once he realizes you only meant it as a hypothetical, his eyes glance down at his desk. There’s a small silence that fills the air. “I… would be lost. I’d go back to being the way I was before you. Back to being alone. I… can’t be me without you.”
✧˚ · . Wriothesly
“What? Break up? You’re not thinking about breaking up with me, are you? Did I do something?” A sigh of relief escapes him when you tell him it’s just a hypothetical. “I’m… not sure. Before you, I was just the administrator in Meropide. A lot has changed since then. Now… I don’t know what I’d be with you.”
✧˚ · . Wanderer
“The hell? You’re just gonna break up with me that?” His anger immediately melts when he you explain it’s just a hypothetical question. He’s silent for a very long time, just staring at you. “I… I’d go crazy. Probably. I don’t think I could lose you too. But if you’re truly unhappy with me… then I’ll let you go.” The words are hesitant and unsure. He couldn’t just let you go… could he?
✧˚ · . Childe
“Heh, where would you go? Wait, you don’t actually wanna break up do you?” There’s a hint of fear in his tone but his eyes show it all. He’s terrified. It’s instant relief when he finds out it’s not an actual statement. “I’d beg for you to stay. I’d beg and beg and beg. I couldn’t possibly lose you without trying my best to get you back.”
✧˚ · . Diluc
“Break up? Why… hold on, why would we break up? Everything’s been great recently? Are you unhappy with our relationship?” His shoulders relax instantly when you assure him it’s just a hypothetical and means nothing. “Well… I… don’t know, actually. So far, my life has been work. With you, it’s been fun. I don’t know if I can even picture my life without you anymore, actually. Probably just… lots of work.”
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jays-bookmarks · 5 months
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How They React to Your Death
My HCs about how I think the Genshin boys would react to your death. I wanted to write Kaeya too, but ran out of steam.
This month has been terrible to me, so I was in the mood for angst. I don't know how well these turned out, but they were fun to think about.
Characters: Alhaitham, Childe, Heizou, Kaveh, Lyney, Neuvillette, Venti, Wanderer/Scaramouche, and Wriothesley
WARNING:
Reader has death descriptions. Some are more graphic than others, but I don't get into the nitty gritty details.
Spoilers for the backstories of all the mentioned boys.
MAJOR SPOILERS for Act V of the Fontaine Archon quest in Neuvillette's part.
Childe's part contains mention of suicidal thoughts.
Kaveh's and Venti's parts contain alcoholism
🎧 Alhaitham
Despite Alhaitham’s considerable wealth, no amount of money could cure your Eleazar sickness. His money could only buy treatment that prolonged your life a little bit, but ultimately your many years of battling the illness ended when he got news from the doctors that you had passed away in your sleep.
Alhaitham had accepted the news fairly quickly. He knew your death was inevitable, could see you slowly wasting away each time he visited you in the hospital over the past few months. So it was no surprise to him when the day finally came. The other patients and staff thought it strange how Alhaitham had no visible reaction to the news, but some chalked it up to shock when in truth the Scribe was simply accepting of that fact. There was no use denying something that already happened.
When Alhaitham came home that day, the house felt silent and empty. It reminded him of how the house felt when his grandmother passed away when he was younger. The sensations were similar. However, he did not cry over your death. Instead, he carried on his life as normal, or as close to it as he could now that you were no longer a part of what he considered ‘normal’.
At first glance, people thought that Haitham was unaffected by your death. Nothing about him changed. Not his mannerisms, his quality of work, or his expression. He remained the same reserved, stoic Scribe who had no time for trivial nonsense or extra work. He also never talked about you to others aside from confirming their question if you were truly gone. Alhaitham was like a well-oiled machine that worked efficiently like clockwork, keeping up the same even rhythm.
What they don’t see is how he comes home with the expectation of hearing your voice greet him upon entering, only to be faced with a defeating silence that makes his heart sink. They don’t know that Alhaitham wakes up throughout the night, expecting to find you snuggled up next to him in bed the way you used to before your sickness got worse, and you had to be hospitalized. However, you weren’t there no matter how many times he looked towards your side of the bed, and the Scribe could only sigh and try to fall back asleep while ignoring his aching heart.
No one sees how Alhaitham gets too lost in his books in the mornings and accidentally makes two cups of coffee instead of one due to force of habit. Or how, for once, he finds the silence of his house bothersome without your voice and the sounds of your activities resounding within the walls, and it’s enough to distract him from reading. He could be found reading at the House of Daena and Puspa Café more often from then on.
During his afternoon naps, Alhaitham sneaks back home and cradles your favorite blanket to mimic the sensation of holding your soft body in his arms the way he used to when you joined him for naps. He listens to recordings of you talking with him just so he can hear your voice again. He was glad he made the decision to record your voice at the hospital before you became too weak to speak. It gave him the chance to hear you one more time even if the sound of your voice made his chest hurt so much that he occasionally had to stop the recording to collect himself.
Nobody sees how Alhaitham finally picks up the fiction books you recommended him because they were your favorite. He prefers non-fiction, but these books are the last things he has left through which he could connect to your mind and way of thinking. He reads them all cover-to-cover even if he finds the story lacking or the writing not to his taste. He will learn to treasure each and every word because you once did.
What someone might see, as Kaveh did when he moved in with the Scribe, is a bookshelf filled with a few journals, a thick book with an emerald cover, and an assortment of fiction books that exist nowhere else in the house. Alhaitham never talks about these books unless asked, but their well-worn covers are a sign of frequent use, and sure enough, one can catch him reading a rare fiction book during one specific month each year.
🐋 Childe
You went missing after going out to collect some firewood in the woods near Childe’s home. A search party was arranged to find you with Childe in the lead, and he was also the first one to find your remains. Your body had been torn apart, blood and innards splattered across the snow, no doubt the work of some rifthounds. Usually, Childe would relish in such a gory sight, but not this time. Not when it’s your blood and flesh painted in the snow.
The sight leaves him numb. He’s numb when the search party comes to retrieve you, numb when he sees your parents weeping over your gruesome death, and numb when he takes on the duty of exterminating every rifthound he finds around Morepesok.
He wants to cry too, to grieve for you the way he needs, but refrains. He doesn’t want to appear weak and unreliable when his younger siblings mourn and cry over your death. You were like family to them, and your death broke their little hearts to pieces. Childe didn’t want to burden his siblings further by breaking down in front of them. He needed to remain a reliable older brother who could support them through this tough time, even when his own heart bled and he cried in his sleep when he dreamed about you.
Childe’s underlings noted that the Eleventh Harbinger became colder and more irritable after your passing. Any mention of your name would garner the speaker a harsh glare, and if Childe assumed what said person said about you was disrespectful, he didn’t hesitate to start a fight and beat the other person within an inch of their life. He became violent and unhinged, much like how he used to be when he returned from the Abyss as a fourteen-year-old boy.
Childe knew his behavior was irrational, and it pained him to see even his own family fear him due to his violent actions. He felt restless. Spending time at home among your belongings summoned feelings of longing and sadness, but even so, he couldn’t bear to throw anything away. He lived among the ghosts of your existence, however, it drove him mad with grief.
Childe needed an outlet for his emotions, so he took to fighting monsters and other strong opponents. He became even more reckless in battle. If before, the Harbinger sought out strong enemies to test his mettle against them and grow stronger as a result, now he sought out an opponent that would be worthy of taking his life.
Childe didn’t want to abandon his family. He loved them dearly and wanted to see his siblings grow up to be happy and successful people, but life without you felt so hollow. A part of him wanted to return to his family, but the sense of his family feeling incomplete never left him. You were just as much of a family to him as his siblings and parents were. He had plans to start his own family with you. But now… now, a part of him yearns to reunite with you in the afterlife. He promised he would stay by your side no matter what, and Ajax is not one to break his promises.
🔍 Heizou
Heizou was one of the first to hear about your stabbing that occurred in an Inazuman alleyway late that evening. You were rushed to a doctor to have your wound treated, but the robber who attacked you hit a vital area. Your blood loss was colossal, and it wasn’t long after arriving at the doctor’s that you succumbed to your injury.
To Heizou, the news brought on a sense of deja vu. He’s already lost a friend to crime in the past, and now he lost you to crime, too. The knowledge made him furious and heartbroken. He was angry at the robber for stabbing you just so he could steal some money that you didn’t want to part with, and he was angry at himself for failing to prevent this. After his friend passed away, Heizou swore to nip crime in the bud by discouraging criminals from committing crimes with the threat that he would find and capture them no matter what without fail. But what good did his resolve do if you still died because of an armed robber?
The heartache and guilt he felt ate away at him as the memory of your ashen face during your last few moments haunted him. He lost you. Never again would he get to spend time with you and make you laugh, kiss and hug you, or tell you he loved you.
His anger drove him to capture the murderer in record time, but hearing the criminal’s subsequent sentence for theft and murder didn’t comfort the detective. No amount of jail time would ever atone for the loss of your life.
After that day, Heizou lost his playful demeanor, becoming somber and reserved. He threw himself into his work, feeling pressured to capture as many criminals as he could in as little time as possible. However, his grief and exhaustion caused his mind to dull and make mistakes while investigating clues. It got to the point where Kujou Sara had to forcibly send him on vacation so he could take a break and properly process your death.
Despite his protests, Heizou knew he wasn’t much use in his current state, so he took this free time to visit your family and mourn together with them. He apologized for not doing a better job of protecting you, fully expecting your parents to lay blame on him for not protecting their child. To his surprise, your parents didn’t blame him at all. They even thanked him for catching the murderer and helping them to feel a little more at peace. Heizou’s interaction with your family helped him feel a tiny bit less guilty about your death.
The experience left him feeling a little less broken, so in the following days he sorted through your belongings in your shared home. He packed away some items to return to your parents, some things he put in storage, and others he gave away that he remembered you wanting to get rid of. A few of your items he kept for himself, one of which was a scarf you mentioned you bought because it was the same shade of green as his eyes which reminded you of him.
Heizou wore your scarf as a keepsake and good luck charm and would hardly be seen without it when he finally came back to work. What once served as your reminder of him, now served as his reminder of you, the person he loved with his whole being. But with the memories of you came the reminder of how you died. Though the memory was painful, it helped Heizou work up the will to keep pursuing his goal of eradicating crime. Even when the case was extremely tough with conflicting clues, your scarf would remind him to not give up, to not let another incident like yours happen again, and Heizou would persevere. He would continue to persevere no matter how long it took because he didn’t want innocent lives like yours to be snatched away so cruelly. Maybe one day, he will see you in the afterlife and proudly tell you all about how he achieved his dream. Until then, he will work hard to be worthy of the title of Inazuma’s best detective.
🍷 Kaveh
Kaveh had a lot of work to do. He was saddled with creating drafts for another large project while also trying to work on the commission for constructing a library in Aaru village for the children. Wanting to help alleviate his burden, you offered to take the finished drafts over to Aaru village yourself so he could focus on finishing up work for his other project. Kaveh tried to object, saying you really didn’t need to trouble yourself on his behalf, but you insisted, expressing your desire to help him finish his work sooner so the two of you could spend more time together again. After some deliberation, he let you go to the village by yourself, confident that you could make the trip since you accompanied him there several times before.
A few days later, Kaveh received news that you had died on your return trip from the desert. When he heard the cause of your death, his stomach roiled. You perished in quicksand just like his father. You died doing something for his sake, just like his father did.
Whatever future plans he was building together with you, whatever progress you made in helping him slowly heal from his trauma, it all came crashing down around him. Your death reopened old wounds Kaveh was only starting to heal from, as well as left new scars that tormented him every waking moment.
The first few weeks, Kaveh couldn’t stand to be in your shared home. It was full of memories of you, and each and every one of your belongings would stab at his heart like a blade. Moreover, the house felt so silent without you around. It reminded him of when his mother left for Fontaine, leaving him alone in a house too big for only him to live in. Now, he was reliving that moment all over again, but it was worse this time because, unlike his mother, he would never see you again.
Kaveh also couldn’t stand to look inside his sketchbooks. The pages were covered in various sketches of you, and looking at them only made the anguish and guilt grow in him tenfold. He blamed himself for your death, attributing it to being his fault just like he attributes his father’s death as his fault too. No matter what anyone says to console him, he will never stop believing it’s all his fault.
Fueled by guilt and self-loathing, Kaveh spent several weeks visiting Lambad’s tavern practically every day. One could even say he lived there since the architect seldom went home. He used what little money he had to buy alcohol, especially of the stronger kind. He wanted to numb the pain in his heart and to pretend that you weren’t really gone from this world. The alcohol helped to muddle his mind until his intoxicated brain conjured happy memories of you together, and Kaveh would mumble your name in a drunken haze. Other times it didn’t help, and Alhaitham, Cyno, or Tighnari could often find a drunk Kaveh quietly crying while slumped over a table and trying their best to drag him home while listening to his drunken babble of self-loathing and regret.
It will take a long time for Kaveh to feel okay again, and even then, he will never be the same optimistic and cheerful person he used to be. You were his muse, the one who made him feel like maybe he was deserving of love after all. But with you gone, he lost his creative spark. His designs no longer held the same extravagant and artistic flair they used to. Now, they’re more tame by comparison. With your passing, you took with you the little bit of joy he felt towards the world, and it seemed more bleak than it used to be when he was with you.
Kaveh refused to seek out love after your death. He’s lost too many people he held dear and has been left alone over and over again. The pain of being left behind and of feeling like he will only bring misfortune to those he cares about, made him seal off his heart. He doesn’t want to let people close to him like that again, and neither does he want to replace you. You were, and still are, very special to him.
Despite numerous years going by after your passing, Kaveh never forgot you, and he didn’t want your memory to be forgotten either. He built an art school and dedicated it to you in honor of being the one who inspired him so much in his creative endeavors. He hopes that your name will live on and continue to inspire future generations of artists long after he is gone from the world.
🎩 Lyney Having grown up in the House of the Hearth with Lyney and Lynette, the twins were practically like family to you. Though admittedly, Lyney and you developed romantic ties rather than familial ones the more you got to know each other. It was no surprise to anyone when the two of you became a couple, and Lynette even encouraged it.
Being a member of the Fatui, you were often sent out on dangerous missions to infiltrate enemy territory and report your findings back to Arlecchino. You were good at your job and had major successfully completed missions under your belt, but even the best slip up sometimes. After infiltrating enemy headquarters, you regularly reported your findings back to the House, however, one day the correspondence stopped. You went completely silent. The thought of you being caught immediately crossed Lyney’s mind, but he was hopeful that as an experienced agent, you would manage to find a way out somehow. You always have in the past, and after having worked together with you during joint missions, he saw first-hand how capable you were. To pass the time, he focused on polishing a magic trick he wanted to show you upon your return.
Days go by, and just as the magician is about to lose his patience and run off to try and find you, news about your body washing up on a riverbank reaches his ears. The heartbreak Lyney experiences upon hearing the news is indescribable. He felt lost, disoriented, and anguished. A part of him refused to believe the facts, but after witnessing the gruesome sight of your corpse, he had no choice but to face reality.
You were dead.
Lyney wondered at length about the cause of your death, and while his own guesses made his stomach knot, the autopsy report he read a few days later made him livid. Numerous torture and abuse marks were found on your body. It seemed that the enemy had captured and tortured you, hoping to force you to spill some of the Fatui’s secrets. Judging by the severity of the most recent wounds, you must have kept quiet because more brutal torture methods were used on you until the enemy figured out they wouldn’t get anything out of you, and disposed of you. Lyney knew how loyal you were to your family. You would never betray them even at the cost of your own life, but in that moment, he really wished you would have treasured your life more. Maybe then you could have survived. Maybe then he would have had the chance to hold you in his arms and tell you he missed you while you were gone. Maybe he would have had an opportunity to show off the magic trick he created specifically for your eyes only. But now, he’ll continue to miss you until the day death comes for him too. Lyney’s initial reaction upon hearing of your torture is overwhelming fury. Lynette had to hold him back from recklessly running off to take revenge against the enemy. It took a lot of reasoning on her part, but eventually, her brother calmed down.
Once his bout of anger passed, Lyney broke down. Lynette didn’t hide her own tears as she held her brother in her arms while he cried. The siblings both missed you dearly and mourned your loss, but Lyney took your death especially hard. He felt broken. One of his most precious people was taken from him in such a cruel manner, and the mere thought of how you must have spent your last few waking hours made him feel horrible.
He was anguished and angry, and the potent concoction of negative emotions weighed down on his heart and mind. Gone was his cheerful smile and outgoing attitude, replaced with a cold and somber frown. His calculative side took center stage. Though his initial burst of outrage passed, he wouldn’t give up on his desire for revenge until the act had been carried out. Aside from the twins, Arlecchino also refused to take your death lying down. You were her precious child, someone she put in a lot of love and effort to raise, and this transgression angered her as much as it angered Lyney. Together with Arlecchino, Lyney and Lynette infiltrate enemy headquarters and make every person a part of that organization pay. The magician ensures that the perpetrators experience the same pain you went through during your torture, and by the time they’re done, not a soul is left alive.
Even after exacting revenge, Lyney barely feels a smidge better. Though your captors have been neutralized and won’t hurt anyone the way they hurt you ever again, it doesn’t satisfy Lyney. At the end of the day, all he wants is to have you back in his life. He consoles himself with pieces of your clothing. Your clothes smelled like you, and Lyney hugged one of your items every night, breathing in your scent and soaking the material with his tears as he quietly cried. It takes a long time for Lyney to get himself together and act like himself again. Though he could easily put on a fake smile for his audience, his heart still aches inside. He misses you no matter how many months go by, and Lynette has her hands full comforting him when he breaks down at night and cries about how much he wants to see you. Lyney would have had an easier time accepting your death if you had passed away more peacefully, but knowing you were tortured to death will forever haunt him.
Once he feels more like himself, Lyney incorporates the magic trick he originally wanted to show you upon your return into his magic shows. He only performs it during special occasions so it would leave a great spectacle upon his audience. It was once made to awe you, but now it awes his audience, and a part of him feels some semblance of catharsis in knowing he could inspire others to feel the same joy you made him feel using just this trick. At times like these, Lyney feels as if a part of you was still there with him, enjoying the show he secretly dedicates in your honor.
⚖️ Neuvillette
You were visiting your friend Navia in Poisson, when the Primordial Sea flooded the area and caused a great catastrophe that took the lives of many of its residents. Neuvillette was aware you were in Poisson when the disaster struck, and he tried to get there as quickly as he could to check on you. He would have arrived there immediately were it not for the pressing matters he had to settle prior. He hoped the Traveler and Paimon would find you and keep you safe since they knew you were the Iudex’s beloved.
When he finally made it to Poisson, to his morbid surprise, he found neither you nor Navia, but some Fatui members helping to mitigate the damage. When he asked about your whereabouts, he was told that nobody had seen you. Immediately, his thoughts ventured to the worst scenario, but he refused to believe in his fears until he could get confirmation. He held out hope that you were alright, and went in pursuit of Navia and the Traveler, hoping that maybe you were with them, or they knew what happened to you.
It wasn’t until he was saving Navia from getting dissolved in the Primordial Sea water, did he catch a glimpse of your face. You were trying to protect Navia from certain death, along with Silver and Meluse. At the time he was too anxious about saving Navia to fully register the implication, but an unsettling thought sprang in his mind that maybe you really were— No, he didn’t want to accept it.
When Navia regained consciousness, Neuvillette asked her about your whereabouts. Her answer pierced through him like an ice-cold lance. With tears in her eyes, Navia recounted how you were helping Silver and Meluse rescue the residents of Poisson when the Primordial Sea flooded in, and how she saw your body dissolve in the water along with her loyal subordinates with her own eyes. The news settled in Neuvillette’s stomach like a boulder, causing it to sink and make him feel nauseous. Dread filled him, but he could only muster a quiet “I see…” and stare off into the distance. He felt crushing sadness, but he wasn’t given time to properly process his emotions and your death until he managed to make it out of the ruins.
That evening, Fontaine was hit by a torrential downpour that lasted several days. The rain fell in heavy sheets, flooding the streets and urging most of the citizens to seek shelter in their homes. Only the Chief Justice had the gall to stand outside and let the rain seep and soak through his clothes.
Neuvillette let the water droplets cascade down his face, imitating the tears he wished to shed as the realization that he would never see you again settled in. It was strange. Though he was on land, each waking moment he was pursued by a constant feeling of drowning. His chest felt heavy as if burdened by a great weight that made each breath he took feel like a herculean task.
Neuvillette felt a lot of emotions he couldn’t find the words for. He was frustrated and angry that innocent civilians had died in the flood because nothing was done to prevent it. So many people died. You died. If nothing else, he wanted to get justice for your and the others’ deaths.
However, Furina refused to provide answers to his questions despite his probing and insistence that now was not the time to keep secrets that could potentially help prevent an even greater catastrophe. That was when he turned to seeking aid from his companions, in the hopes that Fontaine could still be saved. Neuvillette lost and gained many things in those few days. The citizens of Fontaine were freed of their curse, and Neuvillette had obtained a position of complete authority, however, it all came at the cost of the lives of innocent civilians, Focalors’s life, Furina’s mental state, and… your life. Those were great prices to pay, and Neuvillette mourned each and every sacrifice.
Now that he had some time to himself to process his feelings, Neuvillette recognized that what he felt was grief and longing. He wanted to see you at least one more time, to feel you in his arms again. To have you taken from him so suddenly was too painful. He never got to tell you one last ‘I love you’, and he could only hope that his words reach you wherever your consciousness might be now. Fontaine will see frequent rainfall in the coming months. It won’t be easy for Neuvillette to get over your death, and some part of him will always ache and yearn to see you again. But one thing he can do is strengthen his resolve to make Fontaine into a nation that both you and Focalors would be proud of. A nation where tragedies like these will never happen again.
🍃 Venti
Venti liked to climb up on high places like his statue in front of the Favonius church, the rooftop of the Cat’s Tail, or the great tree at Windrise. Today, you found him high up in the tree, absentmindedly strumming a new tune on his lyre. Wanting to surprise the bard, you tried your best to climb the tree as quietly as you could, but right as you were about to pop up and surprise him, the branch you were on snapped, and with a heart-stopping shriek, you plummeted down to the ground.
Your scream alerted Venti. He felt your presence before you even started climbing the tree, but he failed to foresee the danger until it was too late. He didn’t react fast enough to summon a gust of wind to safely lower you down. The sickening crunch of your skull hitting the ground made his stomach roil, and for a brief moment he felt as if the blood in his veins turned to ice. He felt frozen in place.
Snapping out of his momentary stupor, Venti rushed to your side to check on you, but the enormous pool of blood blooming around your lifeless body made him throw up.
Not again. He lost someone he loved once more. The painful emotions of losing you triggered a cascade of memories of seeing the broken body of that one boy he called a friend thousands of years ago. The same boy whose face he now wore as a way of honoring his memory and giving him an opportunity to live out his dreams of freedom through Venti.
Venti felt that same feeling of heavy emptiness once again as he cradled your lifeless body in his arms, your blood smearing the white sleeves of his shirt. One of the bard’s hands cradled your still-warm cheek, and he wept. To have you taken away so easily through such a small accident… it was too much.
Venti didn’t attend your funeral. He couldn’t bear to. However, he forced himself to watch from a distance as your loved ones gathered around your grave. He fully empathized with their grief.
In the following days, one could often find Venti at a tavern. He started with Angel’s Share, but after consecutive days of heavy drinking and drunken ramblings about how remorseful he felt and how you deserved better, Diluc put a stop to Venti’s visits. The Anemo Archon wasn’t getting any better from drinking himself into a stupor until he could barely hold himself upright. It was heartbreaking to see.
Even after being banned from the Angel’s Share, Venti would visit other taverns in the city and rinse and repeat. He so badly wanted to numb the pain in his heart and forget the awful memory of your lifeless body. Only after several bans did Venti finally stop coming to the city altogether. He disappeared for a while, and nobody was able to find him. Only after many weeks did the bard suddenly pop up in the town square with his lyre in hand.
During his absence, Venti wrote a few songs as a way to cope with his grief, and after a while, finally felt well enough to play them. As a bard, he was well-known in Mondstadt for playing cheerful and beautiful tunes, but this time his melodies were melancholic, even sad. They listened to him sing about a love he can no longer say ‘I love you’ to anymore, someone he can no longer forge new memories with and can only carry on in his heart as a memory. The music he played captured the attention of every member of the audience and touched their hearts so deeply that they, too, could feel the sorrow the bard was trying to convey through his melodies. His pain became their pain, too. The heartache was so profound, so raw and crippling, that many people couldn’t hold back from crying.
Venti wasn’t playing the songs to earn money or share his sadness with others. He was playing them for you. He hoped that his feelings would reach you wherever you were and that your memory wouldn’t fade away even if he remained the last person alive who knew of your existence. His songs will keep your memory alive in the hearts of the Mondstadt citizens, never to be forgotten.
☂️ Wanderer
You have been fighting chronic sickness for months, but despite the treatments, each week you seemed to get worse and worse. Neither the doctors of Sumeru nor even Nahida herself could figure out a cure for your condition. You were bedridden with barely any strength to move. Wanderer took responsibility for nursing you back to health by helping you get to places you needed, cooking all your meals and feeding you, as well as getting your medicine and administering it.
Despite his efforts, you could tell you wouldn’t last long. While you still had the strength to talk, you apologized to him for being forced to part from him.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, with a frown pulling at his lips. “Rather than talk about such nonsense, use that energy to get better instead.”
He didn’t want to face the facts, to accept the reality that you could disappear from his life. But then came a day where you no longer opened your eyes when he called your name, nor stirred when he tried to shake you awake. Your body was cold and stiff and so unlike what he was used to seeing you as. The life you possessed was gone in all senses of the word.
Something in Wanderer snapped that day. Falling to his knees, he let out a guttural scream that tore at his vocal cords. He unleashed a wail that carried all the anguish and misery he’d been keeping bottled up inside for hundreds of years. He’s lost so many people he cared for in the past. Each time he met someone he grew attached to, fate would always tear them away from him, and you were no exception.
He cried bitter tears in the privacy of your shared home, cursing Fate for doing this to him over and over again. He was angry and heartbroken. Though he lacked a real heart, the sensation in his chest felt like something inside him broke into a million tiny fragments. As if sharp needles pierced through his non-existent heart and caused him to scream until he lost his voice.
He wanted revenge, but how can one get vengeance against Fate itself?
You were gone, so cruelly torn away from his side despite his best efforts to keep you alive. You were the little ray of light that never gave up on him no matter how cold he was towards you or how much he pushed you away, and helped him heal little by little. You accepted him in his entirety and wormed your way into his non-existent heart, so how dare Fate mock him like this? Wanderer truly felt as if Fate was purposely torturing him by taking away all those whom he held dear.
Helpless and anguished, Wanderer reverted to the days when he used to be Scaramouche, the sixth of the Fatui Harbingers who was infamous for his callousness and mercilessness. His roiling emotions spurred him to repeat these spiteful acts against anyone who got in his way. It was the only way he knew of how to vent these overwhelming emotions that made him feel like he was choking on his grief.
It took Nahida’s interference to calm him down and get through to him that you wouldn’t want him to be like this. The Wanderer you fell in love with wasn’t such a hateful person driven by negative emotions, and though he was loathe to admit it, the God of Wisdom was right.
Having quelled the initial burst of wounded anger, Wanderer would think more clearly about what he should do from now on. He could keep all your items, photographs, and letters, but they would never replace you, only help preserve some of the memories attached to them, which a puppet like him had no need for. He won’t forget even the smallest thing about you, not as long as he’s alive.
Wanderer becomes a regular visitor of your grave, taking care of it so your name won’t be erased from the gravestone by time too quickly. He would frequently bring your favorite foods and flowers and place them in front of your grave, before taking a seat next to it and staring off into the distance without saying a word. He did this mostly at night so he could stargaze, just like how you both used to when you were alive.
Even centuries later, when everyone who knew you took their memories of you to their graves, Wanderer will remain to watch over your final resting place, unwavering in his devotion.
🐺 Wriothesley
You accompanied Wriothesley on another one of his swims out in the open waters surrounding the Fortress. Since you weren’t a vision holder, you had to wear a diving suit to breathe, unlike your beloved Duke. You’ve had these private little swim dates a few times before, so your guard was down when you swam through some jagged areas of the Fortress’s scaffolding. The shoulder of your diving suit caught on a sharp edge of metal and tore a hole in it. The tear was fairly large, and you panicked when you felt water rush inside your suit. Wriothesley was quick to freeze the hole and pull you up to the surface to get the suit off of you, but by the time he did, it was too late. You had inhaled too much water and were unresponsive. Wriothesley tried to keep his anxiety at bay and utilized all the CPR knowledge he learned from Sigewinne to try and save your life. He breathed air into your lungs and did chest compressions with enough force to hear your ribs crack, but even after 30 agonizing minutes of trying, you wouldn’t wake up.
Wriothesley had no choice but to accept the fact you died. Wriothesley doesn’t cry for you. He’s no stranger to death. His exposure to it in his younger years made him all too aware of how easy it is to die, and that death came for all without exception. As a result, he was able to accept your death a little easier than most, but it doesn’t mean he made peace with it. The staff and inmates at the Fortress all said Wriothesley looked the same as usual even after your death. He kept up his laidback yet intimidating demeanor and busied himself with the variety of work someone in his position was required to take care of. Only Sigewinne could tell that Wriothesley was not alright despite all the strained smiles he gave everyone. The bags under his eyes grew more prominent by the day, a clear indicator he wasn’t sleeping well. She saw how he threw himself into his work, barely taking any time to rest properly, as if wanting to keep his mind busy from the horrible memory of seeing your corpse. Though he tried to mask it, in truth, your death affected Wriothesley deeply. He had frequent nightmares about watching you drown and being unable to save you, and they would keep him up at night. He usually awoke in a cold sweat, his heart pounding from intense panic and dread until his mind cleared, only to be replaced with a stone-cold reality that made the feelings of guilt come rushing back. Out of habit, he turns to your side of the bed to seek comfort in your presence but seeing it cold and empty served as yet another harsh reminder that you were gone. Wriothesley can’t sleep after his nightmares, so he opts to work out or fuss over his gauntlets to distract himself from his feelings. It takes all his self-control to keep a lid on his emotions and not become the angry, irritable mess he knows he will be if he’s not careful.
When he makes tea, Wriothesley accidentally makes two cups out of habit. One for you and one for him. Even weeks after your passing, it was still a difficult habit to break. For the first while, Wriothesley would even stop drinking your favorite tea blend because it reminded him of you. Rather than enjoy the flavor, all he tastes is bile in his throat. The flavor of your favorite tea makes him nauseous because it makes him think about how you will never taste this again or have another tea date in his office.
There was one occasion when he tried to drink your tea shortly after your death. He thought maybe the flavor would remind him of the happy times he shared with you, but all it resulted in was a broken teacup from the force of his grip, and Sigewinne fussing over his cuts and burns. He didn’t drink your favorite blend for a long time after that, only being able to find enjoyment in it again many years later when the startlingly clear memory of your death didn’t hurt him as much. Wriothesley felt lonely without you. You were the friend and confidant he told his deepest and darkest secrets about his past, the comfort he sought after a difficult day, and the soothing presence that made him feel accepted for who he was without all the embellished titles. But after your passing, the Fortress of Meropide seemed cold and gloomy, as if devoid of the warmth it once had that made him call it home. It was as if your death snuffed out the little ray of warm sunshine he felt when spending time with you.
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jays-bookmarks · 6 months
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underground fighter wriothesley who absolutely melts whenever you patch him up n place the softest kisses over his bruises n stuff :((
- 🦋 anon
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ WE, NOT I — WRIOTHESLEY.
contents. underground fighter! wriothesley, gn! reader (he gifts you flowers, perfume and a necklace though, so if that is fem! coded to you, there’s your warning), mentions of foster care and being orphaned (wriothesley), mentions of blood, bruises, and injuries (wriothesley), slight angst but overall fluff ending
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money’s tight—has been for a while, actually. wriothesley doesn’t like to talk about it, doesn’t like to open up even though he knows you won’t think any less of him. but you notice the small things, always do.
it’s the way you buy groceries for two, the way he’s always over for dinner one way or another, the way he seems to spend more and more time at your place than his. money’s tight, even if he doesn’t like to admit it—and you could never force it out of him, but you think letting him stay with you while he can could help ease the burden of living even if a little.
he’s grateful—a little roundabout in the ways he shows it, but grateful all the same.
and then the presents start to come.
it’s small at first: those expensive macarons you like from that bakery, the bouquet of roses that couldn’t be cheap, a nice dinner he insists he can pay for every once in a while. and then it starts to get bigger: fancy tea from the side of town neither of you even think about shopping at, perfume from a brand you can’t even pronounce, a necklace that’s more than what you can afford yourself.
it starts out slow, and then all at once, wriothesley has what you imagine to be more money than he knows what to do with. because why else spoil you like this? why else blow money on things for you when he could be putting it towards himself?
not everyone gets to have a head start at life—wriothesley is proof of that. it’s hard, more than most people realize, to be orphaned so young and move through foster home after foster home. he’d gone to jail once too—he doesn’t talk about that either, and you never ask. it’s hard, more than anyone gives him credit for, to be knocked down by life so many times and make a living for yourself.
you can’t understand where the sudden change comes from, can’t pinpoint where along the line he started getting so comfortable. it’s not unwelcome, you would never want to watch him just barely scrap by, but it concerns you how he seems to have so much all at once.
and then you get your answer.
“what—what happened to you?” you ask in disbelief, eyeing the blood caked by his nose and around his knuckles. that’s the best of it, unfortunately—the gashes on his chest and the bruises somehow look even worse.
you’d consider him lucky that his ribs don’t seem cracked.
“just a fight,” he shrugs, not meeting your eyes. wriothesley is a lot of things: resourceful, conniving at times, and braver than most. good at lying is not one of them, however—at least not with you. “just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“where were you, then?” you challenge, staring at him hard enough that he doesn’t have to meet your eyes to shuffle uncomfortably in his spot. he doesn’t answer. you’re almost fed up. “wriothesley,” you say in a warning tone.
there’s a sense of finality he doesn’t like.
“what happened to wrio, sweetheart? you’re killin’ me here, i come home to you all bruised up and you’re here beating me down harder—”
“wriothesley, i’m worried about you,” you whisper tiredly. it’s defeated—it’s almost helpless. he frowns, finally looking up at you from his place between your legs as you sit on the bathroom counter.
“you don’t have to be,” he mumbles, “i can take care on my own. i always have.”
“there’s no being on your own when we’re together,” you shake your head. your hands fall to either side of your body, shoulders slumping in exhaustion. “don’t you understand? neither of us is supposed to be on our own anymore—not when the other is here.”
“yeah,” he crosses his arms—you try to ignore the wince he lets out as he moves, “and now you’re not handling things on your own anymore. i’m carrying my weight. just need to fight a guy or two.”
“you’re carrying your weight by fighting?” you blink at the realization. he doesn’t look you in your eyes, keeping them trained on the floor again. “oh my god—is that what these are from? because….because you’re fighting some punks in the middle of the night? that’s illegal—and you could get in trouble again—”
he doesn’t seem to like being reminded of his past. that’s clear when he clicks his teeth and glares at you. “and what am i supposed to do, stay cooped up in your place and eat your food?” he asks bitterly, making your brows furrow.
“not necessarily, but you can—”
“what, so i just live paycheck to paycheck and shower at your place and sleep in your bed so my water and electricity bills aren’t too high for the month?”
“wrio—”
“i’m earning, aren’t i? what’s the big deal?”
“the big deal is this,” you wave your hand exasperatedly, tears welling up by the lash line of your eyes as you stare at his bruises with trembling lips, “look at you. it’s not worth it if you come back to me like this.”
“but i come back,” he mumbles, taking your hand—he kisses the knuckles, rubs a rough thumb over the smooth skin before laying your palm against his cheek and sighing. “i always come back.”
you love wriothesley—have since the day you met him, you think. he’s easy to fall for like that, to feel your stomach go in twists and knots every time he makes a sarcastic joke and throws you a charming smile. life has been tough on the man you love, unfairly so. it’s hit him harder and harder and pushed him back to his knees before he ever got a chance to fully stand up.
he’s hitting back, now. maybe in a more literal sense than you’d hoped, but….but maybe you can help him if you can’t change him. maybe you can keep the pieces together until the plaster holds and they’re not so fragile anymore.
“i don’t like seeing you hurt,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss the broken skin on his cheekbone, “you don’t have to do all this. we were doing okay before that.”
we. he shudders at that. it’s always we and never i—even when you did all the heavy lifting. even when he was barely getting by and you were giving more than you should’ve had to, more than he should’ve needed. it’s always we. never i.
you and him.
“i know,” he melts, humming as your fingers thread into his tousled hair, scratching his scalp as he buries his face into your neck, “just let me save a bit more. and then i’ll do something real with myself. i promise.”
you pull away after a bit, taking in every bruise and every cut, every dry patch of blood and swollen patch of skin. it’s shaky at first, your voice when you finally speak.
“‘s all bruised,” you say quietly, running a finger over the marks littering his chest. he’s painfully still—doesn’t move a muscle as you lean in slowly and press a kiss to the purplish stain on his skin, gently trailing them to the next one, and the next one, and the next one. “you don’t deserve all this.”
“yeah?” he chuckles—its breathy, a little strained. your arms loop around his waist and bring him closer, “what a sweet thing,” he coos, “nobody ever treats me so gentle.”
you frown at that. the world is not gentle with wriothesley—you’ll have to be extra gentle to make up for it.
“you’ll be safe? you’ll pull out when it’s too much, right? and you’ll come back? without being too hurt, right? wrio, you can’t—”
“yeah, yeah, i got it,” he huffs, pressing his forehead to yours, letting your hands cup his cheeks. he leans closer to your touch, shudders as you slowly trace his cheek with your thumb, “just wait at home all pretty for me, yeah? i’ll bring you back something nice.”
“bring me back yourself in once piece,” you huff.
“done,” he smiles, “i’m strong, if you haven’t noticed.”
“yeah? explain this,” you challenge, pressing down on a bruise and making him wince.
“you should see the other guy,” he whines, burying his face back into your neck. you roll your eyes, there’s a scoff in your throat but a smile on your lips.
wriothesley is safe—for now, that’s all you can ask for.
“i love you,” you mumble, “so much. no matter what, okay?”
“no need to get so emotional on me, baby,” he chuckles—and then there’s a tightening of strong arms around your body, a kiss pressed delicately to your neck before a soft, “but i love you too” is murmured into your skin.
“i hope you’re ready to clean those cuts. they’ll sting for sure,” you grumble as you pull away. he grins—handsome, charming, yours.
“will you kiss them better?” he bats his lashes, making you snort.
“no.”
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i might make this a reoccurring drabble series too idk yet. anyway you know what else he can beat up ?? this pussy ;)
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jays-bookmarks · 7 months
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just thinking about zhongli, the same oddball who allegedly fails to remember to bring his wallet with him most places he goes to. and now just thinking about you, a starving artist doing what you can to get by. work loved by many, but bought by few...
and then zhongli shows up one day before you planned on packing up and moving spots. he's immediately praising your works and observing them with a keen eye. he takes his sweet time appraising them—and then offers you an exorbitant amount of money?! you think he's crazy at first. which. he doesn't seem to catch onto right away despite how you're giving him a flabbergasted expression.
in reality, zhongli is used to most of his people giving him weird looks. he knows he's a bit...out there, but he doesn't really care, either. he merely would like to purchase this gorgeous work of yours, as he puts it, even revealing his wallet to have the necessary amount of money for it.
your jaw practically drops in surprise, even your eyes almost pop out of your head.
once he finally gets his hands on the gorgeous work you crafted, he praises you one more time before taking his leave.
he ends up coming back weekly, just to see what else you have. even if he doesn't buy something that week, you find his intricate praises and detailed compliments to be enough payment for your time spent on those works...
at some point, he comes by every day, just to say hi and check in on you. you're not sure why he's so drawn to you, but you hardly complain. it's nice to have a friend or two, isn't it? especially one with such a good eye for art.
...and maybe he's secretly hoping to offer to take you out to dinner one day.
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jays-bookmarks · 7 months
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Just Confess Already!
A collection of drabbles about how your man's closest companions help him overcome his fears and finally confess his feelings for you.
Characters: Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Kaveh, Tighnari, Lyney, Itto, Childe, and Baizhu.
This isn't proofread, so apologies for any typos or awkward sentences.
Wriothesley:
🐺 Ever since Sigewinne saw you and Wriothesley in each other’s company, she could instantly tell you two liked each other. She knew you had feelings for the Duke because she has exceptional people-reading skills, and saw right through you. You could try to hide your feelings from Wriothesley, but Sigewinne could tell how your heart raced when in his presence, the subtle heat in your cheeks and the secret glances you take at him when you think he’s not looking. Honestly, she might have thought you had a fever at first if these symptoms didn’t happen to be present only when the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide was around. Since you hid your feelings, Sigewinne assumed that you weren’t certain if Wriothesley liked you back, and the Fortress’s nurse could only shake her head because how can you not see he likes you?
🐺 Wriothesley knows your favorite tea blend like the back of his hand, and yet he constantly invites you to try out a new blend he made that he think you’ll like. Everyone knows how much the Duke loves tea, but surely you can tell that he uses the tea as an excuse to get you to stay longer and spend more time with him? Moreover, Wriothesley showed off more in front of you, trying to impress you with his extensive tea collection intellect, hospitality, physique—anything, really. Sigewinne could tell how his body language shifted to appear more confident, how his voice pitched a little lower to an almost sultry timbre, and yet despite his laidback smile, the micro expressions on his face told her clear as day that he was nervous about interacting with you. Much like you, he hid his feelings because he wasn’t sure if you liked him. Even when Sigewinne tells him that you do like him back, the Duke doesn’t fully believe her, the idiot.
🐺 Once she gets fed up with watching the two of you pussyfoot around each other, Sigewinne comes up with a covert plan on how to get at least one of you to confess their feelings. She comes up with excuses to send you over to see Wriothesley (and as expected he keeps you around longer than you intend), finds out what foods and flowers you like to pass that information to Wriothesley in a casual conversation (and suddenly you find your favorite snacks or flowers delivered to you from an unknown sender), and consistently eavesdrops on your pair to make sure things were going smoothly. As expected, her plan works like a charm and it doesn’t take long for Wriothesley to confess to you, much to the Melusine’s delight. Later on when she and the Duke have lunch together, she’ll congratulate him on his new relationship before smugly saying “I told you Y/N liked you too.”
Neuvillette:
⚖️ Neuvillette’s emotions were generally a mystery to most people and even the Melusines working under him, but all it takes is for one Melusine to see the soft and tender look in the Chief Justice’s eyes when he gazes at you during one of your outings, and before long, every Melusine in Fontaine heard the news that their beloved Monsieur Neuvillette found a human to love. At first they were just rumors, but a few Melusines working at Palais Mermonia confirmed that the reclusive Iudex did indeed make time in his busy schedule to see you regularly. The evidence all pointed to the idea that Neuvillette and you must be lovers, because why else would the Chief Justice give you such special treatment compared to most other humans? Their assumption is almost correct. It’s true that Neuvillette loved you, but the two of you weren’t a couple.
⚖️ With this revelation, the Melusines begin approaching you more frequently than before, many of them greeting and congratulating you. When you ask them what they are congratulating you for, they only reply with “Why, on your engagement of course!” before skipping away to carry out their duties without giving you a chance to ask who you were supposedly engaged to. Your puzzlement persists until one day, when you were having your regular meeting with Neuvillette to relax over a cup of water tea, a Melusine approached your pair to congratulate you on your engagement to each other. You almost spat out your drink as the puzzle pieces fell into place and could only watch with wide eyes as Neuvillette gently corrected the Melusine, telling her that you weren’t engaged before patting her head in comfort. Though he appeared his usual composed self, internally he was as flustered as you. Understanding her mistake, the Melusine sheepishly apologizes before leaving to tell her sisters the truth behind your relationship.
⚖️ The news sadden the Melusines, but they figure that if the two of you aren’t together, then they can help you! In their eyes, both you and Neuvillette really liked each other based on how each of you behaves around the other. A few of them take it upon themselves to give you a little push by telling you all about how kind, gracious, just, and reliable Neuvillette is. He’s so amazing, surely you want to spend your life with a man like him by your side, right? As for Neuvillette, though Melusines aren’t experts on human courtship, they observed enough human couples to give the Iudex suggestions on how to court you. One Melusine recommends he give you flowers, and Neuvillette doesn’t have the heart to disappoint her, and so he gifts you a bouquet of flowers while avoiding your gaze. The process of getting you two together is a slow one, but once you finally become a couple after a long period of pining, the Melusines will celebrate and congratulate you (this time for good reason), overjoyed to have helped bring your hearts closer.
Kaveh:
🍷 Mehrak may be an artificial life form, but it can tell that its owner likes you. Like, really likes you to the point of doodling your image in his sketchbook, saves up as much money as he can to take you out to eat, and takes a ridiculous amount of time getting ready when he has plans to meet up with you. He has to look perfect for you, or so Kaveh told Mehrak. Having seen how infatuated it’s owner is with you, and also seen the lovestruck gaze you give the architect every time you two meet, Mehrak concludes that Kaveh and you must be a loving couple with how you pine for one another. But as time passes, Mehrak realizes that you two aren’t holding hands, hugging, or kissing like the couples it has seen do, and the sentient suitcase become confused. It it’s mind, you two are already together, so why aren’t you being as affectionate as it knows you want to be? Perhaps you two need a little push to get closer, it thinks before it comes up with things it could do to help.
🍷 From there, whenever Kaveh designs new buildings, Mehrak will do it’s best to incorporate design elements it knows you like into Kaveh’s sketches. Kaveh knows what you like too, and easily recognizes your favorite flowers in the garden blueprints, fountains in the courtyard (because you said you like them), as well as your favorite vases and rugs in the interior blueprints. They’re not what Kaveh was planning, and he scolds Mehrak for deviating from his vision, but the little suitcase doesn’t stop. When it sees items or foods you like on display in the street stalls, it will fly over to them and give a cheerful chirp as if signaling Kaveh to buy them to give you as a gift. But out of everything Mehrak does that flusters Kaveh the most is when it drags him to you. When Mehrak spots you in the distance, it becomes excited and flies to greet you, thereby yanking the poor architect with it who can do nothing but hold onto his creation for dear life.
🍷 Mehrak’s efforts eventually pay off because there comes a point where Kaveh can’t stop thinking about you. He already thought about you a lot as evident by his sketches of you in his private notebook, but Mehrak’s actions served to constantly reminds the architect of you and made him fall even more in love with you. It’s at this point that Kaveh gathers up the courage to finally confess to you. Mehrak couldn’t be happier to see the two of you together once you accept Kaveh’s feelings, even doing a little happy dance in celebration of completing its mission.
Tighnari:
🍄 Collei won’t know that her teacher likes you until one fateful evening when she headed towards Tighnari’s living quarters to ask him a question and accidentally overheard him and Cyno talking about Tighnari’s romantic feelings for you. It comes as a surprise to her because she genuinely had no idea her teacher loved you. He didn’t seem to treat you any differently from anyone else, but that’s only because Tighnari does a really good job at keeping his feelings on the down low. Now that she knew, suddenly everything made sense. All the times Tighnari put in a lot of effort to free up his busy schedule to provide you help when you asked for it, the way he attentively listened to you and was the first to help if you got injured, his many gifts of various potions and plants that he said were good for your health, and even the fact that he frequently let you touch his ears and tail were all subtle signs of his affection for you!
🍄 With this new knowledge in hand, Collei schedules a day to hang out with you. Her main goal was to get your help with some of her reading materials since you often helped her when Tighnari was too busy, but she had another reason which is to ask you about your feelings for her teacher. When she works up the courage to breach the question, she gets the best answer she could have hoped for. You tell her you really like Tighnari, and Collei’s eyes practically sparkle in excitement. She respects your request to not tell Tighnari about your feelings, but unfortunately breaks that promise.
🍄 When she tried to subtly push Tighnari into courting you, she wasn’t as slick about it as she thought, and Tighnari quickly found out what she was planning. The forest ranger confronts her about her strange behaviour, and Collei will feel pressured to tell him everything. She tells him all about the conversation she overheard between him and Cyno, how his feelings for you were mutual, and about her good intentions to help you and him get together. Tighnari isn’t mad at her. If anything, he might thank her later for giving him this information but not before giving her a talking to about messing in other people’s business. Though her plans didn’t go as expected and she had to reveal your secret, in the end things still worked out the way she hoped. After that fateful conversation, Tighnari seeks you out to finally make his feelings for you clear, and Collei feels a sense of accomplishment at having done something good for the people she cares about.
Lyney:
🎩 Lynette knows pretty quickly when her brother develops a crush on you. The way he ekes out time out of his schedule to visit you, and his constant flirting are some of his tells. And if that wasn’t obvious enough, then the silly grin he wears while talking about you, and the magic tricks he designs and practices for hours on end just to impress you with are all Lynette needs to know that Lyney is down bad for you. Knowing about her brother’s romantic feelings, Lynette will tag along with him during some of his meetings with you to observe and get to know you better. She is pleasantly surprised to learn that you like Lyney back, and finds some amusement in watching the two of you grow flustered by each other’s flirting. Even so, she honestly would much rather not witness her brother flirting and try to court the object of his affections since she finds it icky and feels like a third wheel.
🎩 Despite her reservations, Lynette does her best to support Lyney’s love life since she wants him to be happy. She watches Lyney’s feelings grow from a crush to full-on love with the passage of time, and the growing nervousness and anxiety that came with it. Lyney spends a lot of time coming up with magic tricks to impress you with, and practices them until they’re polished and come like second nature to him. Even so, he still gets really nervous about performing them for you, even doubting whether you’ll like them. That’s when Lynette comes in with words of encouragement and support to try and ease his nerves. If that doesn’t work, she tells Lyney point blank that you like him back. Had these words come from anyone else, Lyney wouldn’t have believed them, but because it’s Lynette whom he knows is really good at reading people, Lyney will believe her.
🎩 Even now knowing you like him back, Lyney is still too nervous to confess, so Lynette changes tactics. She tries to give you hints about Lyney’s feelings for you, calling out his behaviour right in front of you by saying things like “You’ve never given me any Rainbow Roses, and yet give Y/N a whole bunch of them!” or “Lyney pulled a lot of all-nighters to try and perfect this trick just to show you” much to Lyney’s dismay. Lynette does this in part because she likes to tease her brother, but also because she hopes you’ll get the hint and maybe confess your feelings first if Lyney won’t. Regardless of who confesses first, the end result will still be Lyney and you becoming lovers because Lynette can be a surprisingly good wingwoman. It brings a small smile to Lynette’s lips to see the two of you happily enjoying each other’s company now that your feelings were out in the open. All she wants is for her brother to be happy, and she’s glad that he can find that happiness with you.
Itto:
🐂 The Arataki gang has long been aware of Itto’s feelings for you, what with how frequently Itto talks about you and how he turns into an awkward, blushing mess when you’re around. Genta, Mamoru, and Akira decide to team up to concoct a series of plans on how to finally get you and Itto together, and agree that first Itto should try to court you to win your heart. They recommend Itto a bunch of romantic and affordable gifts he could give you, street stalls to take you to for delicious (and cheap) food, as well as the type of compliments Itto should say to flatter you (though all Itto can manage is “You have, uh… really nice hair!”). It's a whole operation the gang affectionately calls Operation: Helping Boss win Y/N’s heart. Shinobu has to keep a watchful eye on the proceedings of said operation lest her friends get carried away and start planning an expensive wedding before you and Itto even become a couple.
🐂 When Itto feels like it’s time for him to confess his feelings to you and he invites you to meet under a large sakura tree, the Arataki gang will come with him and sit in the nearby bushes to spy on their boss and you. You’ll hear hushed (“You can do it, boss! We believe in you!” from the bushes as the gang encourage Itto and give him a thumbs up. As much as Itto appreciates his boys’ support, now is not the time he thinks as he looks at you with flushed cheeks, flustered by his group’s antics. Shinobu facepalms off to the side before dragging Mamoru, Akira, and Genta away to give you and Itto some privacy, but silently wishes him luck with his confession before leaving.
🐂 The gang eagerly awaits the results of the confession, feeling just as nervous as Itto. However, they don’t have to wait long because Itto’s loud whoop of joy soon reverberates through the area, indicating that you accepted his feelings. A little while later, the boys will throw a party to celebrate the occasion, splurging on some tasty food and drink and congratulate Itto on finding love. Though they want to find love themselves, they’re still incredibly proud of their boss because they know the effort it took him to get to this point, and even Shinobu offers Itto a couple of words of congratulations. From then on, the gang will work hard to welcome you into their group and give you as much respect as they give Itto due to your status as his lover.
Childe:
🐋 From the way Childe talked about you in his letter, his younger siblings were convinced that you and he were already dating. Wanting to meet the person special to their big brother’s heart, they begged and pleaded him to invite you over to introduce you to them. Once Ajax relents and brings you to meet his family, his younger siblings swarm you with questions about yourself as well as their brother, before Teucer enthusiastically asks when you’ll be marrying Ajax. You exchange awkward glances with Childe, and before the Harbinger can event attempt to resolve the misunderstanding, with a heavy heart you explain to Teucer that you and Ajax are not even dating (hearing that kind of hurts Childe, he won’t lie).
🐋 The expression of shock and disappointment that Teucer and the rest of the younger siblings give you is honestly heart wrenching, and makes you feel a little guilty. “So, you don’t like big brother?” Teucer asks sadly. You correct him and admit that you do like Ajax, but you don’t specify how exactly. The children will pester you to tell them what kind of “like” you mean, but thankfully Ajax saves you from their badgering. Only Tonia figures out that your “like” is more of a “love”, but she is smart enough to not blab about your feelings to Teucer and Anton.
🐋 Despite their disappointment, the children take a liking to you and constantly ask Ajax to bring you along on their family adventures or simply invite you to play games with them. During your hangouts, the children, but especially Teucer, tell you all about how Childe talks about you in his letters, basically ratting out his feelings for you much to Childe’s mortification. They also try to convince you to date their brother because in their eyes, you two make a cute couple, and Ajax looks really happy next to you. The children won’t know if their words managed to convince you, until one night when you and Childe were preparing dinner in the kitchen, Tonia and her brothers had a question they wanted to ask you. However as they approached the kitchen, Tonia overheard you and her older brother discussing your feelings for one another. With a smile, she quietly leads Anton and Teucer away to give you two some time to sort out your feelings, though she’s confident that by tomorrow you will be an honorary addition to their family, and perhaps a real member some time in the near future.
Baizhu:
🐍 Changsheng can easily tell that Baizhu likes you. The doctor is always polite and cordial, but with you he acts especially sweet and takes time to have a casual chat with you when you come to pick up your medicine. Fed up with constantly seeing him giving you pining glances, Changsheng asks why he won’t just confess to you and get this pining over with, to which Baizhu retorts that he’s too busy to manage a proper relationship. He worries he would be too busy to give those he loves enough time and attention, but he also fears that you don’t feel the same way. His response and stubbornness frustrate Changsheng.
🐍 Her frustration continues to grow when she observes you and notices the telltale nervous and bashful behaviour of yours whenever you talk to Baizhu. You don’t behave that way when talking to Qiqi or Gui, and you also inquire about Baizhu’s health often, clearly worried about him. Your feelings for Baizhu are more than just a patient and their doctor. Changsheng feels like screaming when the three of you are in the same room together, forced to endure watching both Baizhu and you pining for one another, yet not making a move.
🐍 One day, after seeing yet another exchange between you and Baizhu that’s full of hidden longing yet leads nowhere, her patience finally snaps. “Ugh, I can’t take it anymore! Why won’t the two of you confess that you both love each other? It’s so obvious!” she exclaims and slithers out of the room with a huff to cool off her temper, catching brief snippets of you asking Baizhu if what she said is true before going out of earshot. She fumes for a little while, grumbling about how foolish you’re both behaving, before making her way back. To her delight, she glimpses your rosy cheeks and happy grin, as well as Baizhu’s relieved expression from behind the doorway, and realizes you two finally confessed. At long last, after all this time she thinks and sighs in relief. Changsheng decides to extend her break and come back later, wanting to give you and Baizhu a chance to properly sort out your newfound relationship. She hopes Baizhu is prepared for the long talking-to she will give him about dragging out this situation for so long once she returns, but until then, she’ll guard the entrance to the room to make sure no one interrupts you.
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jays-bookmarks · 7 months
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❊ shootin' hoops! - childe . . ajax can't get enough of you. meanwhile, you've definetely had it with him.
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ajax is 19 when he falls in love with you.
he meets you in his second year of college, in a stupid, annoying, lame sociology class which he's only in because it's a requirement to his major. why else would he be in a dank room at 8 in the morning? oh, he hates it. the class is slow-paced. his professor is even slower. an old, little man. ajax bets that he could bench his weight. and maybe a little more than that, too, without breaking a sweat.
the class sucks, and it's not even hard, and he would probably skip every single one and pass with a hundred and ten percent. and he really, really considers this course of action, too. until, he sees you in the back of the classroom. he doesn't think he's seen you before. he'd remember if he did.
wow, you look pretty. wow, you're cool. and wow, maybe he'll stick around for the lecture tomorrow after all. ajax grins to himself. and maybe he'll bench his professor, too, if you'd think that was cool. would that make him look strong, and show off his muscles? then he might really try.
after the class lets out (which takes light years, he's convinced) he makes a beeline to where you're packing up your notebook and stationary. "lame class, huh?"
you turn at his words, eyes wide as you take him in. ajax smiles with his teeth, and he can imagine all the girls and guys in the class swooning, he can practically hear their thoughts; 'oh, who's that cute guy? his dimples are so adorable! oh, wow, i should ask his number. he looks like he would be the star player of our college's basketball team! so muscular, and cool!'
and if they're all thinking that, oh, he can't even conceptualise what you must be thinking. he feels butterflies, and a little dizzy, and a lot anxious— but in a cool way, of course— when you open your mouth to respond.
"i thought it was cool, actually."
he's breathless for a second because wow, woah, oh god, your voice is just as nice— no, it's better, than he'd imagined it. and then he registers what you'd just said and it takes everything in him to stay composed as his brain short-circuits looking for something to say in response. so-long to his ingenious plan of bonding over mutual hatred of your professor. hm. he's kind of backed himself in a corner. oh, well, it seems like he'll have to rely on his massive charm to get him through to you. not a problem!
"really? you've got awful taste."
your face sours. his heart thunders— oh, you're so, so cute. he likes it when you look at him like that. actually, he likes it when you look at him in general. he likes the way your eyes crinkle at the corners when you're irritated. the way you look like you've tasted something bitter makes him think— would your lips taste sour, too? like lemons, and limes? like biting into a cardamom pod?
before he can think about it too much, you speak again, and he's entranced— again. "just my thoughts."
"well clearly, you don't think much."
you blink at him. your eyelashes frame your eyes so nicely, too. he wonders if there's a colour that encapsulates the shade of them. ajax thinks that your eyes are like the rest of you— indescribable. and then you scoff, and walk away with your bag slung over a shoulder, and he can't wait to see you tomorrow.
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three weeks go by. ajax doesn't think he could be more in love.
he's showed up to sociology every single day, just for the sake of seeing you. lighting up like a match the second you show up in the doorframe, and going out in a similar fashion once you're gone. he relishes every single second in your company. he carves every half-smile and every grimace, and every time you purse your lips in confusion and every time you nod along to the professor when you understand. oh, he's in love. and it's bad. it's so bad.
"don't tell me you're actually doing the extra credit work," he says, staring at open laptop on your desk. it's work time, and while ajax could hypothetically leave, you're staying, so he's staying too.
you glance up at him. lord knows how you've put up with him for so long. he's annoying, he's bothersome, he does not leave you alone, not for a second. the only time he sees you is sociology so he's got to make the most of it. "i've got nothing better to do, ajax."
oh, he loves, loves, loves it when he says your name. it might be his favourite sound in the world. "you could leave. it's a free class."
you raise a brow— "you could leave too."
"i could. but what'd you do without me?"
you laugh the littlest bit, and he feels a dozen times lighter. maybe your laugh is actually his favourite sound, he can't decide. "probably be a lot more productive."
he likes what you have. he likes this friendship-ish kind of thing. he likes that you only hate him sometimes, and that you can stand to be around him other times. that's not to say he's satisfied. oh, not even close. 3 weeks were enough for ajax to imagine it— a lifetime. he imagines holding your hand at graduation. and he imagines movie nights turned sleepovers, and he imagines what colours you'd choose for the bedsheets of your first house together. he imagines lists of names. he imagines forever. but this is a good start. you're 50-50 now, he's just got to work on that hundred percent.
and, in his opinion, 3 weeks is a long, long time. that's 7 whole days of 24 whole hours. and only god knows how many minutes are in those hours. way too many, he thinks. he's smart enough to know that good things take time, but he doesn't think that he can be only your classmate-sometimes-friend for any longer. he wants more. needs it.
you speak before he can reply, "you really have nothing to be working on?"
he probably does. a lot of business homework, something math related undoubtedly. but that wouldn't take him too long. so he opens his mouth to say as much when he remembers— he likely wouldn't have time later tonight. oh, but he's already not been doing his work— would it be embarrassing to start now? would you think he's stupid? he's so cool, and he'd hate if you didn't agree. in any other situation, he'd pop open his notebooks and get to work. but you make him all conscious, and nervous, and hot in the face. and how long has it been since you asked? he should probably respond. you stare expectantly and he feels warm all over, maybe almost as hot as he looks. (you'd agree. right? you would.)
"maybe just a few small things," he grins at you, "but i can squeeze them in before my game tonight."
you hum in response. "i forgot there was one tonight. against our rivals, right?"
his heart warms— you remembered who it was against. you might've forgotten about it in general, but you remembered it. that must be a good sign. oh, he's got this in the bag.
"yeah. at 7."
you smile at him. he thinks he might die right there. "well, good luck. i'm sure you'll do great."
he beams at the compliment, heart thundering like a caged bird between his ribs. compliments always meant more from you. he could probably definitely recall every single one you've ever spoken to him, if he tried. (and probably even if he didn't.)
ajax doesn't miss a beat, this time. "i'd probably do a lot better if you were there cheering me on."
he doesn't miss it. he doesn't miss the way your mouth twists a little bit in surprise, because this was really not what you were expecting. and he definitely, doesn't miss the way your eyes slide over to your hands, and your fingers which are suddenly all too fidgety. he's embarrassed you. his boyish grin grows tenfold. "don't tell me i've got you going shy on me."
you roll your eyes in mock annoyance, and he knows you well enough at this point to know you're trying to hide your bashfulness. "oh, you wish."
"you're right. i do."
you freeze. he doesn't think he could hide his joy at your embarrassment even if he wanted to, even if he tried. it's hard for ajax to pinpoint his favourite one of your feelings— he thinks you're cute all the time. he thinks it's funny when you're disgusted, or annoyed. he thinks you're adorable when you're happy, and especially so when you're sleepy. but he's beginning to suspect that he's especially fond of you when you're flustered like this.
the professor speaks. ajax's mood is instantly a little more sour because god, even the man's voice is slow and boring. the free class was officially dismissed, and students were free to go. under any other circumstances, ajax would be happy about this. but he really does have to go. he wishes you could come with him. he wishes you could come with him everywhere, really.
"are you serious?"
your question catches him off guard. you're looking at him again, with those pretty eyes, and you have a familiar expression on— it's one he recognises as confusion. you're confused. he softens, more than he thought possible. it takes everything in him to resist pressing a kiss to the apple of your cheek, the crease of your furrowed brows, the corner of your lip where an unconscious pout makes itself known. and he realises he might've been unclear with his advances. so he meets your eyes and says, "of course i am. i'm serious about you if you are about me, yeah?"
it's some kind of consent, or acknowledgment. that what you both have can and probably will evolve. you're smart enough to know that he knows, and he's smart enough to know that you know. and you nod softly, and smile like flower petals, and he decides he'll never get over you. he'll never need another.
"i'll see if i can go tonight. but if not, i'll text you."
he thinks he's the happiest person alive. he could kiss you right then, right there, but your wrinkly old dustbag of a professor is still in the room and he won't entertain the geezer. "i'll see you."
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he doesn't see you until the final quarter of the game, but you've been there the whole time.
his team is winning, of course, because they have him, but he's been out of it all game. any moment he can, he's scanning the stands with a watchful eye. it's one of the biggest games of the season. he knows he should be laser-focused, but he's not and it's all your fault. there must be hundreds of faces pressed together and he can't seem to find yours. until he does.
you're closer to the ground than he thought you'd be. hiding in plain sight. and when he sees you, he swears he might start floating. there are flowers in his chest, blooming an ache deep inside. something so disgustingly sweet, so addictingly sickening is awoken at the sight of you in his team's colour. he thinks you'd look beautiful in his spare jersey. he smiles, and it's all teeth. a vicious kind of adrenaline fills him as the next play is called to begin. he thinks he'll give it to you after he wins.
and wins he does. with flying colours, really— the other team didn't really stand a chance to begin with, not as soon as he saw you there cheering him on. his teammates flock to him like sheep, piling on him and shouting things he can't really hear over the general public's applause of the home team's victory. and everything is happening; his coach is slapping his back, his teammate is dragging him somewhere, someone's handing him water, people are screaming his name, yelling about his winning shot, and all he hears is his breathing, and all he sees is you, standing with your hands clasped and lips pressed together in a smile. all he sees is you, so you're the first person he runs to.
since you're in the first stand to the bottom, it's easy for him to clear the guard rail and get to your side. someone in the background shouts his name. he doesn't care. the people who were previously next to you are shoved aside— he doesn't care at all. he's right there with you.
"you came," his breath comes raspy, dry. "you came to see me."
you shrug nervously, "i guess i did."
so he kisses you. ajax is 19 when he falls in love, for the first and last time. ajax is 19 when he kisses you, and he's young, and he's stupid, and he will never regret this, not ever, not when you kiss him back almost instantly, pulling him close by his jersey. it feels so right, it feels too real to be true. he's got to be dreaming. any second now, he expects his daft old professor's voice to scold him for falling asleep during a lecture. but the voice never comes, and you really do taste like lemons and spice, and he hears phone cameras clicking and cheering grow tenfold and he doesn't care because he gets to kiss you.
at some point, you break away. your face is red-hot and he can feel the warm blood flooding your cheeks with how close your faces remain. he ikes it when your lips are swollen because of his. he likes it when your eyes are fixed on him. he likes you. he thinks he was doomed to like you from the start.
when the background finally fades back in, he sees his teammates cheering and ooh-ing like stupid junior high boys. you seem a little disoriented, so he laughs and pulls you away from the stands, helping you climb down the safety rail with a hand in yours and another on the small of your back.
ajax hates his sociology class. he hates the lectures, his professor, the subject— but something good came of it. because he really loves you. with your cardamom tongue and smile lines, and the crease of your eyebrows when you're annoyed, and all of it, and more. he loves you the most. more than anything.
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flowers chosen: small sunflower & pink camellia . . adoration & longing for you
❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊
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jays-bookmarks · 7 months
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Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
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It's nothing dramatic. It's nothing grand. It's simple and easy and so very very very much like him.
It happens in the early morning, under the sheets of your shared bed. It's barely past five in the morning, and although you're still one foot in dreamland and one foot in the waking world, Wriothesley has been up for a while now. His chest is pressed to your back and curled around your person. Ever since he had awoke some time before you had, his hands had busied themselves with playing with yours. In particular, you couldn't help how he seemed to frequently trace the knuckle of the fourth finger of your left hand.
You don't say anything even when you rouse from your slumber, and Wriothesley doesn't stop playing with your hands. Even as you slowly wake up, as he presses kisses to the part of your nape not covered by your (his) shirt, you don't ask him what his hands are doing.
It's Wriothesley that finally speaks first. He buries his face into the base of your neck, break shaky when he inhales. So vulnerable, here, under the soft sheets. So fragile and easy to break. You could shatter him with just a few words, if you so desired. And he'd let you, too.
"We don't have to get married any time soon," he begins quietly, voice so low you almost don't hear. "Not if you don't want to. Hell, if you don't want to, we don't have to get married, either. I'm happy just being together with you, whatever that may be."
Wriothesley pauses and his breath hitches in his chest. His hands pause, enveloping yours, and in an act of comfort you lace your fingers together and reassuring squeeze.
I'm here. I'm listening.
His hand squeezes back, and his heart restarts in his chest.
"But if you let me," he clears his throat, "If you let me, I’ll prove to you that I’m worth spending your life with. That I'll make you happy. That you won’t regret marrying me."
And you want to turn around so badly. Want to see the shine in his eyes and the flush high on his cheeks. Want to take in how the warm fluorescent lights bounce against his hair and his cool grey eyes. But his hold on you is tight (but never painful. Never anything that cages you in.) and you can do little more than hum and bring one of his hands to the plush of your lips in a soft kiss.
You pause to think your words through, and Wriothesley buries his face into the back of your neck again. Goosbumps rise wherever his breath touches, and you can feel how his hands subtly tremble in your hold.
“You don’t have to. Prove yourself, I mean." You bite your lip. If he's nervous, so are you. But you know what you want, and it is him. "I’d be more than happy to call you my husband one day, you know.”
And he doesn't say anything more— not a word or a gasp or even a sob. He just burrows further into the back of your neck and his hands come to pull you closer against him. His hands are so warm on your chest, where they have anchored against you, and the race of his heart against your back is enough for you to want to hold him tight and never let him go.
Nothing else needs to be said between you. He keeps holding you as the morning grows later with each passing second, never faltering. You don't bother to squirm, content to sit in his embrace for as long as he likes. You don't mention the way his hands keep trembling against you, even after his fear and nervousness should have passed. Instead you take them into yours and once more press a kiss to the scarred knuckles, just as you always have.
Taking his left hand into your own, you look at them side by side, and wonder how pretty it would look when you both get matching rings.
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jays-bookmarks · 7 months
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++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
[summary] wrio’s spouse winds up in prison. special treatment ensues.
[cws] gender neutral reader. fluff.
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“What you did was incredibly stupid.”
“I’d like to think it was very brave, actually.” You quip back, lips pursed as you turn up your chin. “You should be proud of me, really.”
“I should be proud that you got yourself thrown in prison?” You don’t have to look up to know that Wriothesley is sporting an incredulous expression. “Did they knock your head around a bit before bringing you down here?”
“You’re acting like I murdered someone.” You finally meet his gaze, and you resist the urge to sink down into your seat at the clear disapproval in his eyes. “All I did was—”
“Break into the Opera Epiclese and destroy government property.”
“That’s such a trumped-up charge!” You huff and roughly cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing as you think back on the charges that had been slapped down onto you by that damned archon. “You trip in the dark and accidentally fall into the oratrice and all of a sudden you’re a criminal. Hmph!”
“Yeah, exactly. It also doesn’t help that you broke in—”
“—I left my bracelet in there after the trial! Was I just supposed to leave it behind and potentially lose it forever? The condition of the lost and found in that place is downright terrible—the guards pocket all the good stuff.”
“You could have bought another one.”
“Not like this one.” You look down to the gray bracelet encircling your wrist, and a warmth spreads in your chest as you gently twist it around, finger rubbing over the messily written engraving on the inside of it. “This was a gift.”
“Hardly.” He sighs, and your eyes flick up to watch as he runs his hands through his already messy hair. “It’s just scrap metal I bent up and welded because I couldn’t buy you proper jewelry back when I was a prisoner.” It’s his turn to look at the bracelet.
“You were so creative back then.” You smile a bit wider. “I remember you used to have something new made every time I came to visit you. What was that one thing you made? The one that we painted together?”
“The ballerina music box.” He groaned, looking a bit embarrassed, and you snapped your fingers.
“The ballerina music box!” The ballerina was a bit oddly shaped, and the box had sharp corners on one side and rounded on the other, and the song the box played was distorted and sounded more creepy than relaxing due to some disfigured cogs, but you loved it nonetheless, and had even sobbed in thanks when he had first presented the gift to you. “I love that little box.”
“It looks like a child made it.”
“A child in the throes of eleazar, yes,” you nod, and his mouth opens a bit in surprise before he huffs out a laugh. “But I still love it… because you made it.” You give him a sweet smile, and you can see him soften up before your very own eyes; broad shoulders losing that rigidness, lids lowering, crease between his dark, thick brows disappearing.
“You’re tryin’ to butter me up.”
“Mhm,” you nod. “Is it working?”
“Not at all, jailbird.” He gives you a smile of his own, and despite the clear sarcasm in it, you can’t help the little flutter your heart does at the sight. “No special treatment for you.” So he says, yet he had placed a cup of tea down for you the moment you were brought to his office, and had even tried to inconspicuously nudge the basket of cookies in your direction, pretending not to notice when you reached for one. “Spouse or not.”
“What a mean man.” You slouch down in your seat. “I treasure the gifts that my lovely, amazing, strong, handsome, and so so so incredibly smart husband gives me and what do I get in return? A criminal record and unfair treatment! I’m suing the entire nation the moment I’m free!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand in the air as if fanning away the conversation, and now it’s your turn to huff. “For the few days that you’re here, you’ll be working directly with me in exchange for coupons.” He takes a slow sip of his tea, adams apple bobbing as he swallows, before gently setting the cup back down onto its small plate. “I’ll make your first job real easy to get you in the swing of things.”
“How kind of you.”
He just barely contains an amused smile. “Very. Now…” He shifts in his seat. “Give me a kiss.”
“I’m married, Your Grace.”
“I’m sure your husband won’t mind. Kiss. Now.” He taps a finger against his lips, and after a moment you stand up and round his desk, hands finding his shoulders as you bend at the waist so your noses brush.
“My husband is a very good fighter, by the way. When he finds out you twisted his spouses’s arm like this, he’ll pummel you.”
“I can handle him.” A hand snags you by the waist, forcing you down into his lap, and you only have time to let out a quiet yelp before Wriothesley’s lips are on yours. The kiss is slow, sensual, and it brings a warmth to your cheeks and covers you with a bashful cloak when he pulls back to let his eyes roam over your face. “I’ve gotta say… your husband is a real lucky guy to snatch up someone as cute as you.”
“Hmph. Seems like you’re trying to butter me up now.”
“Is it working?” He presses his face into your neck, his lips pulling into a smile against your skin, and you have to fight back one of your own.
“Not at all, jailbird.”
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jays-bookmarks · 7 months
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Idk if I'm too late for the Neuvillette drabbles but imagine trying to go swimming with him but he doesn't get in the water so you splash him playfully and then he just. Summons a fuckin tidal wave on you. By accident. And he's so apologetic afterward but you're just laughing your ass off lol
Nope, not late at all! I just went to bed last night right after posting the thingie lol also this sounds so cuteee <33 I had fun with it! Thank you! Word count: 501
Gather like the Tidal Wave
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"Ah! Finally, some time to relax!" You squealed as your feet hit the sand as you ran towards the cool, blue water. Without warning, you jumped in, the cold water surrounding you. Neuvillette, on the other hand, just watched you with a light smile as he stood a distance away.
After a couple of moments, you poked your head out, looking over at him and waving. Raising a gloved hand, Neuvillette waved right back, chuckling to himself.
"Aren't you coming in?" You called back to him before pouting when he shook his head.
"No, I'm alright, but you do look like you're having lots of fun." Neuvillette replied as he walked closer to the water, only his boots getting wet due to the waves rolling in on the shore.
"Aw, come on! You've been working so hard all weak! Don't you need to swim? Cuz you're a dragon and all." You said, making him shake his head a little.
"I'm not a lizard that dries out, sweet (y/n), I'm a human just like you." You crossed your arms at his words, your cheeks turning a faint shade of pink.
"Yeah, well it doesn't rain when I get super sad." You argued back to which he looked at you confused.
"No, if I recall correctly, it does rain when you get upset."
"It rains because you get upset that I'm upset." Well, Neuvillette couldn't deny that. Honestly, if you were upset or you cried, that transferred to Neuvillette and before you knew it, it would be raining.
"I can't deny that." He said honestly, his icy blue eyes shifting away in slight embarrassment.
Deciding it was too boring without him in the water, you began to splash him. He threw his hand up, stopping the water before it hit him, making you whine.
"Neuvillette! You're no fun! Come on!"
"I'm sorry, my robes are a bit expensive and I don't want them to get wet-" He flinched when you splashed him again, but this time the water hit his face.
He couldn't find himself being upset because... you were laughing. So, he decided to play along. He walked a bit further into the water and swiped his hand against it, making it splash you. And so began the very short splash war.
Unforunately, Neuvillette wasn't paying attention and... with one swift move of his hand, a large tidal wave formed beside you and crashed right over you. You squealed, holding your breath in time as you spun around under the water.
Neuvillette, on the other hand, audibly gasped. That wave was a lot bigger than he meant to make it! However, his panicked heart was instantly set at ease when he saw you stick your head out and begin laughing.
"My apologies, that was a little big."
"That was so cool! Do it again!" You exclaimed in excitement, jumping up and down. Much to your dismay, Neuvillette shook his head as he began walking back out of the water.
"No, I don't think so."
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jays-bookmarks · 7 months
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Me watching everyone get Neuvillette: LET ME IN!!!!!! LET ME INNNNNNNNN!!!!!!! :'(
I lost 50/50 to Keqing 😔
*places hand on your shoulder* I heard we're getting 79 wishes total this first half, so time to get exploring and achievement hunting, my friend
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