#🍁 dust writes
Text
How to Steal the Duke's Heart 101
→ Masterlist || → Taglist
-> Next Part
Pairing: Wriothesley x (gn!) Reader
Summary: The moment your verdict was decided as guilty you were brought to the Fortress of Meropide - despite being innocent. Little did you know that the trip to prison would make you meet the love of your life.
Tags: Fluff, kissing, you're in prison (but innocent), some violence (not graphic), swearing
A/N: Due to me being utterly normal about Wriothesley I had the idea for this fic - who am I kidding I would commit a crime for this man.
“According to the judgment of the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale, the defendant is declared… guilty.”
The voice of Chief Justice Neuvillette was ringing in your ears as he read out the verdict. Your verdict.
You couldn’t believe it. You knew you hadn’t done what you had been accused of, that the eyewitnesses had lied the moment they had opened their mouths, that the evidence had been tampered with, that you had been framed for the crime – but you were innocent. And no one was ever going to believe you.
After all, the device that had handed you the fateful false verdict was treated as infallible in Fontaine. You now at least had proof that its reputation was nothing but hollow words. But what use was the knowledge other than just a bittersweet confirmation for no one but yourself?
And before you knew it, guards were escorting you out the back of the Opera Epiclese in handcuffs. Roughly dragging you along with them into a big elevator. Down – deeper and deeper into the depths of the ocean.
You had heard stories of the Fortress of Meropide before – the secluded place where all criminals and outcasts of Fontaine resided. The place no one had ever come back from to tell the tale. At least not in one piece.
You weren’t sure how you felt on the way down the elevator but you would describe it as something akin to hollowness.
The glances the guards threw your way out of the corner of their eyes literally screamed disgust. You were nothing more than a dirty criminal to them after all – someone who was to be shunned and banished from society for all eternity. And if you really had done what you were convicted for, you wouldn’t even blame them for their disdain.
When the elevator arrived at the bottom the doors opened with a mechanical hiss. The scent of machine oil, iron, and damp moldy cellars immediately pricked at your nose and it was the exact opposite of what you’d call homely.
The guards turned you in at the reception, where a rather unpleasant woman took your mugshots before handing you over to yet another rather unfriendly man who led you even further down into the Fortress.
With every new step you took, you tried to come to terms with the fact that the sight of damp, stone, and ironclad walls as well as the lingering industrial smell was going to be your life from now on.
And the dawning realization of that was painfully pulling a tight rope around your throat. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry and most of all, you wanted to run away and pretend like all of this was a bad dream. But you couldn't.
Instead, you were trodding behind the man who was escorting you and silently began to cry as big beads of tears soon began rolling down your cheeks.
"Crying won't help you anymore, sweetheart." The man remarked almost mockingly as soon as he looked back over his shoulder at your defeated frame. "Should've thought about that before you did some shit."
No. You’re wrong. I'm innocent.
At least that was what you wanted to spit back at him. But it was as if any fierceness or strength to stand up for yourself had left you the moment you set foot into this prison. You simply had no strength left to fight.
You soon arrived in a gigantic circular room. The contraption in the middle almost looked like a giant engine, elevators were going up one level on one side and even further down on the other side of the room. The ceiling was so high up that you almost couldn't make it out at all. The light was dim and the only real light sources were yellow lanterns whose light was bouncing off of the copper-colored iron pipes, crates, and frames that lined the entire room. Gloomy would probably be the best way to describe it.
The pungent smell of oil and damp cellar was hanging in the air here as well and probably even more prominent than it had been before. Only now it was also mixed with what you thought was old sweat and… tea? The smell of the latter seemed oddly out of place and you couldn't make out where exactly it was coming from. All you knew was that it was probably the only pleasant smell you had encountered down here.
Taking the elevator up one level again the man you had been following this entire time led you into a side hallway that looked more like a vent pipe. The dimly lit room that was lying behind it was only furnished with a bunk bed and a barely functioning lantern. He unlocked your handcuffs before roughly shoving you into the room with a smug grin on his face.
"Make yourself at home." He chuckled mockingly before turning around on his heel and leaving while whistling a tune to himself that eerily echoed off the stone walls.
You lay down on the bed, exhaling in defeat. Your throat still felt like someone had painfully tied it shut and tears were dangerously pricking at the corners of your eyes.
Now what?
You had no idea what to do here aside from sitting your time off. Where do you get food? Were you supposed to work and if yes, where do you have to and when?
You closed your eyes as a single tear escaped from the corner of your eyes, rolling down your cheek, dampening the pillow you lay on.
All you heard around you were wet droplets falling from the ceiling onto the wet stone floor, distant voices from down below, and your own breathing. The only thing that drowned these sounds out were the thoughts in your head.
Now that you had a quiet moment to yourself after everything that had gone down today, the realization about your situation was beginning to seep in for good. This bed, these walls, the oily smell… this was going to be the rest of your life now.
And that’s when you broke down and started crying once again.
Eventually, you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you knew was waking up to the smell of food wafting through the air vent in front of your room.
You got up from the bed, took the elevator down, and followed the smell. Soon you found yourself standing in front of a Cafeteria, where fellow inmates were queuing for lunch. Or was it dinner? You’ve barely even been here a day, but the distinct lack of daylight already made you lose track of time.
You sighed and walked over, queuing for some food as well. You didn’t have any appetite but you knew you had to eat something and your grumbling stomach was screaming for food, appetite be damned. Much to your dismay, the food needed to be paid for, well, at least the stuff that looked digestible.
You ordered the only free option and sat down with the bowl of grayish, funky-looking liquid whose consistency was more akin to that of wallpaper paste. It didn’t look appetizing, but at least it was free and would prevent you from starving.
Just as you were about to lift the first spoon of gooey pap in your mouth, someone sat down at your table, making you halt your movement for a brief second.
He placed his tray on the table with a loud bang before plopping down on the bench right in front of you. His food looked tremendously more high quality than yours. Your mouth began watering from just looking at it. Freshly made roast potatoes with rosemary, fluffy pieces of baguette with salted butter, a big juicy piece of meat – grilled to perfection, and a glass of mousse au chocolat.
He leaned forward, supporting himself on the table with his elbows, folded his hands and intensely looked at you with his piercing blue eyes. It seemed like he wasn’t in a hurry to start eating any time soon.
You pretended to ignore him and began eating. The soup, which could vaguely be identified as lentil soup, left a slimy feeling on your tongue and tasted completely bland. Every fiber of your body told you to spit it back out again but with enough willpower, you actually managed to swallow it. Not without pulling a grimace first though.
“You’re new here.” The stranger in front of you observed with curiosity.
You looked up at him, nodding slowly shoveling another spoonful of goo in your mouth before going back to ignoring him. You weren’t really interested in trying to make connections here. All you wanted was to get out of here again – even though you knew deep down that the likelihood of that was nearing zero.
“Adapting well?” He inquired, still not in a hurry to touch his food.
You suspiciously looked up at him. There was just something about this guy that was off. He didn’t quite fit in here at all. He was admittedly very handsome. He looked well groomed and his attire was way too pompous to be an inmate - or maybe he was some rich guy who got some sort of special treatment down here. Every other inmate was avoiding your table and people looked at him with an almost reverent look in their eyes. If it wasn’t for the scars that seemed to cover the majority of his body already, this just further confirmed your gut feeling to avoid this guy at all costs in the future.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He chuckled, eyeing you further with a smirk plastered on his lips.
“What do you want?” You asked, now slightly annoyed.
“Just trying to strike up some friendly conversation. You know, seeing how lost you were while ordering food, not knowing about tickets, and just dashing around like a scared blubberbeast, led me to believe that no one gave you a rundown of how this place works. So, allow me?” He remarked with that same smirk.
When you wordlessly motioned for him to continue, he began explaining the workings and rules down here in detail. Unspoken rules, general rules, what and who to avoid, how jobs worked, work times, payment and money, general daily schedule, and a lot more. There was simply so much you were beginning to feel lightheaded as soon as he had finished speaking and you could feel the lump in your throat grow in size with every minute that passed. You would never be able to live here.
“That should about cover the basics.” He finished explaining as you swallowed thickly.
You opened your mouth in order to speak but he swiftly lifted his finger to shut you up.
“No need to say anything. I know it’s not easy to adapt to a new environment. Especially not one you feel trapped in. But that feeling will fade eventually. Trust me.” He threw you a genuine smile before lifting himself up from the bench and pushing his tray with the food in your direction, pointing at it with an offering gesture.
“Welcome to the Fortress of Meropide.” He said, before striding away.
“Wait-” You jumped up from the table causing him to halt in his tracks and turn around once more. “What’s your name?”
“Wriothesley.”
After this strange encounter with the mysterious and admittedly attractive man, you didn’t see him around for a long while. This came as a surprise because you’d assume someone with his looks and attire would stick out like a sore thumb wherever he went. But it was as if the ground itself had swallowed him.
You wanted to see him again, mostly because you thought you could learn from him for your life down here. And despite your gut telling you that he was a walking red flag you had developed a strange curiosity for him.
You had begun working at the ship dockyard where a big window was offering a view into the ocean. You could somewhat make out the sky and time of day from there and it was the only thing that kept you from going completely insane in here. All you had done was sleep, work, eat, and repeat since you came here. Some people had tried speaking to you and some asked what you were here for, but you didn’t have any interest in conversing with them – especially not after you had tried telling someone that you were innocent and they had just laughed at you. Needless to say, you had no desire to connect with people – although he was the only exception seeing as you were craving to talk to him again, as much as you tried to deny it.
Today you were working at the docks again and found yourself longingly staring out of the large window. Your mind drifted off and you wondered how it would feel to simply swim back up to the surface where your lost freedom lay.
“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” A familiar voice reached your ears from behind.
“Wriothesley!”
The man in question walked up to you and came to a halt right next to you. He looked out through the window himself before looking at you from the corner of his eyes with a slight smirk.
“Still longing for the surface?” He inquired, crossing his arms over his chest. “It never fully goes away but once you get used to the Fortress you’ll find yourself unable to want to leave.”
“Is that so?” You ushered quietly, scoffing. You were simply unable to believe him, not when your freedom had been taken unjustifiably.
“Thank you for the food the other day, by the way. I didn’t have a chance to thank you yet.” You attempted to divert the topic.
“Don’t mention it.” He waved dit off with an unwavering smile. “It is almost time for lunch, have you eaten yet? We could head to the Cafeteria together. My treat.”
“Oh, you absolutely don’t have to, I have enough credits for food now that–”
“Please. I insist.”
And so you found yourself sitting at the table with Wriothesley again, with the most exquisite meal that tickets could buy down here.
You were surprised he was able to fork over nearly four thousand credits to buy the meals as if they were nothing. And especially since he treated you to such a meal as well, while everyone else down here held onto their credits as if their life depended on it. And of course, you also didn’t miss the stares of the others again when you sat down with your fancy meal.
You carefully eyed the food and then Wriothesley as if you didn’t deserve to be treated to something like this. He looked back at you with a genuine smile as he continued nibbling on his baguette.
“Anything wrong?” He asked with curiosity.
“No. It’s just… why–?”
“Why am I treating you to something?” He raised an eyebrow in amusement as if he had read your thoughts. You nodded slowly in reply.
“You’re interesting. That’s all there is to it.” He admitted with a smirk.
“I’m interesting? Me?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “You say that when you’re the one I could say that about. You don’t look like you fit in here at all, you have a truckload of credits to spend, and everyone here looks at you like you own the place.”
You paused for a second, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’ve been here for a long time already, haven’t you?”
“You… could say that, yeah.” He replied with a chuckle, dipping his baguette into the rich sauce on his plate.
“Why are you here?” You continued prying.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” He replied with a smug grin before he continued eating.
You couldn’t quite decide if he was a red flag you should run as far away from as possible or if you wanted to get to know him closer. But either way, your first priority for now was not letting the food go to waste so you began eating the heavenly-tasting meal.
A silence settled between you two that was surprisingly pleasant as you both quietly ate with the occasional glace thrown at each other.
Once you were both done he took your tray with him to put it into the tray cart before turning back around with a smile.
“Same time tomorrow?” He asked.
“U-uh… yeah, sure. I don’t see why not.” You stammered a bit taken aback, still confused as to why he wanted to hang out with you so much. You were a nobody with nothing to your name – not even a criminal record technically.
“Great. See you tomorrow then.”
And with that, a habit would slowly form. You would meet up for lunch each day and not long after, also for dinner. He often picked you up at the docks and bought a meal for you and only sometimes you were able to deter him from doing so and insisted that you bought your own since you were genuinely beginning to feel bad even if he seemed well off.
You sometimes sat down for a long time talking even after you both had finished eating. You chatted just about anything and as it would turn out you two seemed to share similar interests. You found out he really loved tea and had extensive knowledge in that regard. And it just so happened that you too were a fellow tea aficionado. Not only that though, you two shared a similar taste in music, books, food, and more. After a couple of weeks had gone by it felt like you had already been friends for the longest time. And much to your surprise, not once had he attempted to ask you why you were here or pried into your private life.
On another such day, you were just heading out of the dormitories towards the Cafeteria to meet up with him. But before you could arrive there someone forcefully yanked you behind some iron crates. You crashed against them with the back of your head with a loud bang, momentarily losing consciousness as pain shot through your system.
"What kinda big shot are ya, huh? What're ya sitting for?" A man yelled at you aggressively.
As soon as you got a grasp of your surroundings again, even though now extremely dizzy, you saw a big bulky guy with a missing front tooth who was pinning you against the boxes by your throat with an iron grip. He was accompanied by two other, less muscular guys who were staring at you in the same aggressive manner. His lackeys, you assumed.
"I have- I have no idea… what you're talking about." You struggled the words out due to the applied pressure on your vocal cords.
"What're ya here for, asshole?!" The man yelled at you even louder now, a few beads of spit flying right into your face through his tooth gap.
"I… I didn't do anything. I–" You gasped breathlessly as you clutched your hands around the hand around your throat, trying to alleviate some of the pressure being applied to it.
"Bullshit! You don't land here for twiddlin’ ya thumbs counterclockwise. And if the Duke's got the eye on ya already, ya've to be some VIP or some shit!" The toothless man spit on the ground between your feet.
“Duke?” You asked confusedly.
“Tch, don’t fuck with me here, shut ya trap. Now, tell me. What’ve ya done? Be honest or I might’ve’ta polish your visage a lil’.” He viciously cackled in unison with his two lackeys who were cheering on him.
“I didn’t. Do. Anything.” You bit back through clenched teeth, putting a strong emphasis on each word. And before you were able to react, a stinging pain shot through your system as a fist connected with your face, sending your head flying back against the crate once again.
You immediately began to see stars and could feel your consciousness quickly fade away. The ringing in your ears and the accompanying dizziness from the impact was overbearing everything and all you could make out before you passed out was a flash of white light and pleas for mercy. Then everything faded to black.
The next thing you knew was waking up with a bandage around your head and an intense migraine. You felt like a horde of boars had trampled over you. The omnipresent pain got worse when you instinctively tried to sit up on the bed you found yourself on.
You hissed in pain and immediately felt a pair of big hands push you back into the fluffy bedding.
“Stay.”
You recognized this voice. You had heard it so often in the past couple of weeks that, despite your delirious state, you had no issue placing it.
“Wriothesley.” You uttered weakly with your eyes still closed.
“Yes, it’s me. I’m here.”
He took hold of your hand with a reassuring squeeze and the feeling of his warmth on your skin made you feel tingly all over and the all-present pain immediately felt like it was being alleviated ever so slightly. Out of all people you were glad it was him by your side.
“What? Where?” You rasped, attempting to slowly open your eyes.
“We’re in a separate room at the Fortress Infirmary. Someone roughed you up real good and you fell unconscious. I arrived just in time to prevent worse. You’ll probably have a nasty bruise on your face for a while and you’ve got quite the concussion as well as a cracked rib. But nothing some bed rest and a good cup of tea wouldn’t be able to fix, hm?” He tried to reassure, brushing a strand of hair out of your forehead.
"Your Grace, here is the medicine you asked for." A guard suddenly came rushing into the infirmary with a small satchel that he handed to Wriothesley before quickly leaving again after a courteous bow towards the man by your side.
You furrowed your brows in confusion at the display of submissiveness of the guard towards a fellow prisoner when you've been treated with nothing but disdain and… wait a minute.
Your Grace. The looks he got from the others during lunch and dinner time. The Duke. It's him?!
The memories suddenly came rushing back to you – how you had been slammed into the metal crates, how the toothless man had mentioned the Duke while threatening you and how his fist had then ultimately painfully kissed your face.
You didn't have all the puzzle pieces to connect everything into a clear image yet but it was enough to feel that there was an epiphany just mere millimeters out of your range.
You startled and sat up on the bed with wide-blown eyes once more as pain shot through you again from the abrupt movement. Pain so bad you thought you would have to throw up for a second.
"I-I… your Grace? The Duke? It's you! He meant you and– who? W-what?! I-I– he threatened me and I-I'm innocent. I don't belong here I–I'm innocent–" You incoherently stammered nonsense because your mouth couldn't match up with the speed at which your thoughts were racing.
Just who was he?
But before you got to properly ask that question a pair of soft lips gently connected with yours, rendering you speechless and cutting off the words that were spilling from your mouth relentlessly like water from a leaky faucet. He squeezed your hand a little tighter while the other gently found comfort on your cheek. Cradling it so carefully as if you're the finest piece of porcelain in the world and could break any minute.
The gentleness of his touch, the warmness of his lips, and the smell of Earl Grey on his breath made your body explode into a sea of fireworks. It wasn't until this moment that you realized you had developed feelings for Wriothesley that went beyond the casual acquaintance you met up with after work for food in the prison cafeteria. It was just that you had been too occupied and lost in your own thoughts about your predicament to realize it.
Your curiosity and cravings to see him more and more often weren’t just born from a place of loneliness. Your heart had craved for him all this time.
Your hands found comfort in his hair as you leaned into the kiss more, prying a low chuckle out of him and you felt him smirk against your lips.
"I know you are." He whispered against your lips when he separated from you again.
"What?" You asked in confusion, already forgetting what he was replying to.
"That you're innocent."
"N-no I don't mean just in this case… I didn't commit any crimes I was sent here despite being innocent I-"
You didn't even realize you had started crying until he gently wiped a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.
"I know." He reiterated firmly.
You looked up in his face and his eyes were filled with nothing but sincerity. He must be the first person you ever encountered who didn't see the sentence of the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale as infallible and unquestionable.
"How?" You quietly breathed out in disbelief.
"I knew it on the first day I saw you. My beliefs were just further confirmed when I talked to you for the first time. I've been working behind the scenes to get you out of here again ever since." He admitted, wiping another stray tear from your cheek.
That's why he was gone for days after your first meeting and suddenly arrived again behind you at the docks.
"You went above ground?" You rasped, making the question of who he actually is even bigger.
He nodded, taking your hands in his and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.
Is that why he also said you would find out who he is soon enough that one day? But you still didn't know… who actually is he?
"How are you allowed to go out? Who are you?"
"You still didn't figure it out?" He smirked. "I'm Wriothesley. Warden of the Fortress of Meropide."
And at that moment everything fell like scales from your eyes.
His attire, the looks of other prisoners, the abundance of tickets to spend, randomly disappearing for days, the Duke… the Cryo Vision dangling from his shoulder despite not being allowed to carry any in here.
He was the one who saved you earlier.
He must've noticed your glance because he squeezed your hands a little tighter and reassured you: "They won't ever bother you again. I took care of it."
You didn't dare ask what he meant by that and simply nodded in acceptance.
"I can also tell you that things are going well. I pulled some strings and you might be out of here by the end of the week again with no criminal record to your name."
But what if you actually didn't want to leave anymore? At least not without him.
"Will I be able to see you again?"
A question that spilled out of your mouth before you could properly think about it. But the deafening silence that followed told you everything you needed to know. He rarely left the underground and was occupied down here most of the time so the possibility of you and him seeing each other again was low.
"Certainly." He replied after a while avoiding looking into your eyes.
A white lie. He wanted you to return to your old life again, out of the confines of this prison you had unjustifiably been thrown in. He didn't want to keep you here only for the selfish desires of his heart that he had unplannedly given to you along the way. Maybe he would find a way to be with you once you returned, maybe he didn't – But that didn't mean he couldn't indulge in what you had for the remaining time you were here with him.
And that's when he pulled you closer once more, one hand resting on your waist, gently massaging your skin through the fabric of your shirt while reuniting your lips as if it was the last thing he would ever get to taste.
And maybe, if it was what it took to see him again, you wouldn't mind actually committing a crime.
Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.
#genshin impact#astronetwrk#genshin fanfic#genshin x reader#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x y/n#genshin fluff#genshin wriothesley#genshin x y/n#genshin impact fanfic#genshin drabbles#genshin scenarios#genshin brainrot#genshin headcanons#🍁 dust writes#🍁彡 gi
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
I was just in the middle of eating dinner and watching the new episode of Chainsaw Man and then Crunchyroll decided to crash in the middle of it.
Great fucking timing, mateys 😭
#🍁 dust rambles#just my luck again#guess I'll gobble this down and go play some Plague Tale and Genshin#then continue writing on my fic again
0 notes
Text
୨୧ Herbal Medicine
" tighnari takes care of a sick reader… "
ft. Tighnari x GN!reader
cw: all fluff, tighnari sass!!, tighnari being a 10/10 caretaker, not proofread
>> 🍁 kazuha's musings: no notes, just send me more requests pls i wanna write more!! i might do another ver of this but with cyno sequel/follow up to this fic here!
Tighnari is quick to notice when you’re feeling ill. You had just gotten back from a trip to Mondstat, more specifically Dragonspine, and had seemed to catch a cold once you got back home. Of course, he’d already expected this would be the outcome, constantly lecturing you to be careful when traversing Dragonspine’s frosty and snow-covered terrain; but it seems that you took his advice too lightly, casually telling him you’ll be fine.
It’s quite funny, really, Tighnari being your long-time romantic partner yet constantly worrying and lecturing you whenever you did something unsafe like a concerned mother. This was the way Tighnari always had been and you’ve already gotten used to his endless lectures and so on…
Forest rangers always seem to tense up and lower their heads in shame when being given one of Tighnari’s never-ending lectures, but you just listen in silence, shaking your head in fake-annoyance and lightheartedly saying it’ll be alright. Tighnari cares about you. A lot. Your safety and well-being is his utmost importance.
Once you got back from Mondstat, you endlessly detail your experiences and funny mishaps during your trip to Tighnari; yourself seemingly not noticing how exhausted you are.
Tighnari’s ears angle downwards in worry, stopping you in your words and placing a gloved hand against your forehead. His face is slightly scrunched, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed while his kind eyes stare at your complexion.
You tilt your head in confusion; “What?” a light blush was dusted across your cheeks and ears, Tighnari noted, but you didn’t seem embarrassed and the temperature of the rainforest was stable at this time of day, so you couldn’t have been flushed from the weather.
“Did you do as I asked before you left?” Tighnari’s gaze subtly shifted into a concerned one, eyes softening feeling your body temperature, “You’re warmer than usual..."
“I did, I promise,” you shook your head and smiled reassuringly, “I even used the Pyro-infused heatpack you gave me.”
Tighnari hummed, seemingly not convinced “Just get a good sleep tonight, if it gets worse let me know.”
The next morning, you were nowhere to be found. Worriedly, Tighnari took a detour to your hut and found you huddled up in your bed with a fever. Thankfully for you, he didn’t need to make the trip back because an arrangement of herbs and medicine were already accorded for in Tighnari’s bag.
He’ll give an off-handed remark about how you “Should have been more careful.” and to not spontaneously roll around in the snow without a winter jacket on, but Tighnari would rather let you rest for now. Once you’re better, you’ll be able to listen to his ramblings that usually fall on deaf ears.
This isn’t his first time taking care of someone sick, it’s a common occurrence in Tighnari’s day-to-day life due to Collei’s chronic illness and tending to young children who’ve accidentally scraped their knee while playing or caught a fever. Almost everyone comes to Tighnari for matters like this, and he’s all more than ready to play that role as a loving caretaker.
“I need you to sit up so you can take this medication..” his demeanor is radiating patience and tenderness, eyes calm as he speaks in a way that soothes your ears.
Reluctantly, you oblige, slowly sitting up from your bed that’s in disarray to see Tighnari enter your view. Your fuzzy vision eyes him pour a dosage of medicine into a silver spoon, Tighnari turning back to you. He motions you to inch closer where he sits, which is on a wooden stool situated by your bedside.
“Is it gonna taste bad…” you mutter; you coughed into your elbow hoping it would clear up any of the junk that stained your dry throat. Tighnari laughs almost lightheartedly, knowing that you already knew what the answer would be.
“The worse it tastes, the more it’s gonna help you get better.” the attempted reassurance makes you frown, praying that your tastebuds won’t feel the sour bitterness that immediately enters your mouth once Tighnari guides you to gulp it down. The taste is enough to make you gag, but you swallow your pride (and the medicine) and take it without saying a word.
“Oh, and drink lots of water, too.” he pulls out a canteen of fresh water from his bag, pulling up his chair so he sits slightly closer. He presumes you’re too tired to hold the canteen and drink yourself, so he cups your chin and tilts your head back a bit, letting the fresh liquid trickle into your mouth.
His own face flushes a pretty pink while watching you take the beverage, finding the blush that spreads across your face and unkempt hair to be quite adorable. He shakes his head and scolds himself. You’re sick right now, why is he thinking about kissing you?! Tighnari’s surprised and mortifyingly embarrassed that he’s thinking about such things during your time of need; letting you gulp down a good amount of water before quickly standing up from his position.
He fakes a cough into the fist of his hand, “Is there anything in particular that you want to eat?” Tighnari looks at your form that’s huddling back into the bedsheets; you mumble something incoherent, but he’s still able to make out what you said.
Soup. He nods, telling you he’ll be back before exiting your hut. Although the request is quite vague, he goes for a simple soup with a variety of vegetables and fish as the meat. When he brings back the dish to your hut, he finds you curled up on the bed sleeping peacefully like a cat. He smiles, setting the tray down by your nightstand and quietly sitting at the edge of your bed to not disturb you.
He hears you whisper something, supposedly in your sleep “…nari….” his name? He stares at you inquisitively, a soft snort of amusement coming from your sleeping form. "You're so clingy.... when you're sick, hehe..."
Oh. So that's how it is, Tighnari's eye twitches, maybe he shouldn't take precious time out of his day to take care of his lovely partner after all. He sighs to himself, sitting beside you and swiftly brushing his tail against your face teasingly; watching your face scrunch up and eyes squint open.
Unamused eyes met yours, "Morning, sunshine."
"I-It's already morning...? Ah, shoot! I'm late for my patrol-- ACHOO!" A loud sneeze interrupts your short haze of panic, Tighnari gently sushing you and pulling the covers over your chest again.
"Hey, I was just kidding; you can rest," he returned back to his caring persona and eased you back into bed, motioning your gaze over to the tray on your beside "I just need you to eat something and you can go back to sleep, alright?"
You mumbled something incoherent, nodding; coughing into your elbow as a fruitless attempt to rid of your dry and mucus-filled throat. Tighnari has a spoonful of a fairly appetizing-looking soup, blowing soft puffs of air to cool its temperature and slowly bringing the spoon to your lips. A part of you wanted to shy away as it was rare for Tighnari to coddle you like this, but the stuffy fog of your sickness made you gladly take the spoonful in your mouth. It tasted amazing, something both warm and comforting yet light in flavour and fresh in ingredients.
"Taste alright?" he hummed, a small smile on his face when he saw your tired eyes slightly sparkle when you tried the dish. You nod fervently, happily gulping down the rest of the soup that temporarily distracted you from the limbo of sickly pain your body was in.
Afterwards, Tighnari made you take more medicine, the bitter note coating your tongue washed down wish a flask of river water. You sighed, leaning backwards until your back hit the comfort of your mattress; eyes wandering to your boyfriend. "Tighnari..."
He turned his head, kind eyes attentive in its gaze. You shifted uncomfortably in your bed, pulling off the covers while gesturing your arms outwards "I'll get better faster if you sleep with me."
Normally these words would be coming out in a lighthearted and slightly flirtatious tone, but the rasp of your voice and fuzzy vision made it sound incredibly endearing to Tighnari. He shook his head and chuckled, "And what if I get sick?"
"Collei will take care of us..." you replied back. You huffed, satisfied to yourself when Tighnari seemed to easily agree to your (in hindsight, brash) request and crawling into what little space was left in your bed.
You moved to your side to face Tighnari, lazily pulling the thin covers over his back and closing your eyes peacefully. A gloved hand moves to your cheek, brushing a stray strand of hair so he could get a better look at your flushed features. He smiled, tail brushing over your thigh and tickling your skin. Tighnari could feel his own mind begin to stir, his eyes closing with your shallow breaths fanning across his face. "You're hopeless.." he muttered lovingly, finally bringing his mind to sleep.
A week later, Tighnari fell ill with a cold as well.
#[🍁] kazuha's haiku collection#[💌] letters of songbird#tighnari x reader#tighnari x you#tighnari genshin#tighnari#tighnari smut#genshin fanfic#genshin impact fanfics#genshin impact
667 notes
·
View notes
Note
Wow, I didin't know you write for 2ptalia! Not complaining tho, how would the countries (just pick your faves) react to darling choosing their 2p counterpart over them? And what will they do in retaliation to being the unchosen one?
Me: Gets 98% writing only to realize I answered it backwards. hahahahahhhh. So here a twofer. Reader being rejecting both original and 2p! Hope you guys enjoy!
2p America: How much Fall flavored shit do you need woman? *Shows pack of Pumpkin Jojo’s, Pumpkin pie flavored Oreo’s, and Caramel Apple creamer* Also the fuck is so funny?
Me: Roast post.
2p America: What?
Me: Shut up and laugh dammit! *throws notebook that ask was written in*
Characters: America (Obivious as fuck I’d pick him), Canada, England, Germany, Italy, Japan, and Russia.
🍔🇺🇸America 🍔🇺🇸 “WHAAAAAAAT? YOU’RE INTO A MAN WHO’D RATHER FUCK HIS NAILY BAT?!?! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND? ARE YOU CRAZY?” He shouts into the early evening air. He was so loud with that last remark that it took a few moments for passersby to look away from you.
“Alfred! Please keep your voice down! And please release your grip on my arm!” You shrug away harshly to keep space between the two of you. You disliked that he was spouting nonsense.
“Y/N, please….” You avoid his eyes; you know they were a honey-laced trapped that you knew plenty of unsuspecting people fell for.
“I’m sorry, Alfred, but he and I work better together and I don’t have to explain that.” Voice was shaky but you knew you’d be away from him soon. Still avoiding his gaze you say ‘Good-Bye’.
After you’ve left him to be alone with his raw feelings, he will go punch a few brick walls to let off some steam.
He’s going to go home and ugly cry and eat Half-Baked while he’s half-baked himself making him whole again after a few months pass.
(Damn reader, you a savage, we now have a sad burger man.)
🕶️🇺🇸2p America 🇺🇸🕶️: “SERIOUSLY DOLL? You go for a man whose entire fucking shtick is eating a shitload of burgers! That bitch wants to be Nikocado Avacado so bad!”
He’s grinning his teeth. The fury radiated off of him like a heater. He’s gripping the phone so tightly that small indents are beginning to form. He wasn’t interested in prolonging his suffering so he hung up in your face before you even had a chance to try and placate him. The phone meets its demise. The titanium, metal, and nanotech that once resembled a black brick now resembled black sand of sorts.
He goes out drinking and partying for the night. Why not be hedonistic to high hell if he doesn’t have you?
He complains about you to others in the FACE family, saying things like: What was there not for them to like about the blood-dusted roses? They show devotion and dedication or whatever bullshit Oliver was on about!
Oliver: “I heard that, you ungrateful tosser! Pay up in the swear jar!”
Alex: “Fuck yo-” A knife nails his leg and he wails out in pain.
He ain’t giving up though he’s going to attempt time and time again to get the McDumbass away from you and into his arms.
🍁🇨🇦🐻❄️Canada🐻❄️🇨🇦🍁: Most of you reading this post already know he’s going to cry.
You were kind enough to let him down gently when you video-chatted him. “I’m sorry, Matthew. I’m just really feeling this other guy and I do it with sincerity that you find someone who suits you.” The pregnant silence was deafening but nothing compared to the pipes behind his violet orbs about to burst. He said, “Okay, farewell, Y/N. I hope you and Matthieu will be happy” before he ended the call. God, that was a cursed sentence. The pipe had burst and tears spilled through his darkened lavender pools. It takes him about 45-minutes to get off the floor and he opens his Tim Horton’s app and gets a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and a few Canadian maple and honey crullers. Once it’s delivered, he will devour his meal and sink onto the couch, watching whatever random thing he’s put on Netflix. All while soaking the couch in his copious amounts of tear-soaked Kleenex.
He’s going to stress-bake pastries while listening to some podcasts to do his best not to think about it.
He’s also going to turn off his phone intentionally and put it in a phone jail for 78 hours so he doesn’t accidentally waste 5 hours looking at your cute face and the man that has always gotten in his way ever since he came into existence.
🐻🇨🇦2p Canada 🇨🇦🐻:
His right eye twitched in frustration over the text message being the only thing he got. His anger swelled the more he thought about it. It was like a boiling pot of water that went from a mildly active simmer to raging waters supported by the heat of a recently awoken volcano. He snuffs out his 4th cigarette, only halfway done and just thinking about his sickly sweet 1p receiving your attention and love.
He gets crossfaded for the night, so he can numb the stinging pain of rejection. Once he’s done with being on his drug and booze-filled bender he’s going to get to plotting to get you back.
Even Kuro was high-key annoyed that the snow-colored bear also had your affection. An aggravated growl leaves the beast as his owner reassures him that in time: you will be with them… permanently.
☕️🫖🏴England🏴🫖☕️: He’s in his tea room drinking scalding hot Earl Grey. The burn on his tongue felt better than the rejection he received. You picked the pastel palette psychopath with cannibalistic tendencies.
‘Why y/n why? Why in the world would you want to date that Nutter? Is it because I can’t cook for shit?’ Will be some of the thoughts that echo around in his mind as he blankly stares at his tea until the early hours of the morning.
‘Dodgy Oliver’ ‘What the fuck?’ ‘Bloody hell, has the world gone mad!?’
He considers making a love potion to make you love him. (Since this is the normal 1p we’re talking about Arthur’s code of ethics hasn’t been entirely yeeted out the door.)
He will lurk on your social media profiles for a couple of weeks before he picks himself back up again.
🧁🎀☠️ 2p England ☠️🎀🧁 Mans has been sitting in his elegant pastel library while rage, sadness and disgust are spilling from his eyes. His heart crumbled into his stomach. When his shiny bright baby blues darkened in hue after reading your text he couldn’t help it.
“Hey Oliver…. I know this will be difficult to read but I’ve decided that I’m going to be exclusive with Arthur. I really do hope you can find someone for you. Goodbye.” After a few minutes of letting the river flow onto the desk and pages of his prized cookbooks his mind wonder about how you came to the conclusion to go steady with Arthur. Were you daft? Were you under a spell? Did Arthur trick you? Regardless, Oliver was beginning to crave a special sweet treat that will require him to pay the tsundere British man a visit.
💪🇩🇪 Germany 🇩🇪💪: He’s going to be dumbfounded that you picked Lutz. Like bro has to stare at his phone for 5 full minutes re-reading your text. He tries to make scientific sense of how in fuck you came to the conclusion to like Lutz. After this, he’s just going to curse in his mind for a few hours while he pets his German Shepards while he has maybe a dozen or so cold ones. Ludwig will stare into the void and be like ‘WARUM!?! Auf keinen Fall! Das gibt’s doch nicht!’
No matter what, it will never make sense to him. He will be despondent for a while but with the help of Prussia, Italy, and Japan (and his two favorite things Beer and Schnitzel) he’ll be fine.
You live rent-free in the back of his mind though. While ‘Why for the love of god would you pick someone like him?’
💤😴2p Germany😴💤While staring at the screen with bloodshot eyes…he won’t shed a tear, whine, or break things to let out his frustrations. He does nothing. He knows it’s not worth it. He knows he’s not what many would call a “catch”. Sure he has a rugged charm of sorts but that doesn’t mean it makes up for his mentally unwell state of working for Luciano. He will simply stare at the text message that read:
Hey Lutz, I think it’s best that we just be friends. Ludwig and I are going steady. I just wanted to be transparent with you. I’m sorry.
Even as empty as the words felt, he stared at them with a mixture of regret, sadness, and self-pity. After a while, he releases the phone to fall onto the bed. Well, if there’s nothing he can do, he may as well just jerk it to someone who looks like you.
🍝🇮🇹Italy🇮🇹🍝 Let's be real he takes your rejection like a champ. He'd been rejected by tons of people before. He’s a professional flirter what do you expect? He’ll go to another bar and snag more bitches.
This doesn’t mean that later he’s going to realize: WHY ARE YOU DATING A DANGEROUS MAN???????
(Yes, I took this angle for him. Feliciano can be baby but ooooooh lawd he can be a player. He got that 🌟✨duality✨🌟)
🔪🇮🇹2p Italy🇮🇹🔪: His favorite switchblade is tossed back and forth like an acrobat during a finale. Rage is spilling through his pores. His ears burn as honesty comes spilling from you.
“Maybe it’s best if we can be friends. I’m romantically intertwined with Feliciano and he’s a really sweet guy and I have to take a chance with him.” Your honesty was charming just as it was brutal. It was horrible for him to think about losing you. Your melodic voice was like hearing a live chorus from the musical Baroque of the 1600s. His dream of having you with him was shattered by the idiotia constantly waving a white flag. He stabs the right arm of the chair that he was seated in and drags the knife backward. Cotton and alligator leather were ruined in the blades' wake.
He was going to give the bastard something to cry for.
Bro is going to be wine-wasted for the rest of the night and become a little violent towards anyone who is within range of him. Kuro and Lutz 100% know to stay the hell out of his way until the storm has passed.
👹👺🇯🇵2p Japan🇯🇵👺👹: Oh fuck. You essentially set off an entity that’s similar to Slenderman. Kuro is silent and brooding and his plans are gruesome, slow, and violate the human code of ethics. You were brave enough to have the conversation with him over tea. The air is tense, filled with discontent, and hate. What a waste you’d fallen the evenly keeled Kiku. He cared too much about cherry blossoms, respect, blah, blah, blah. Why would you ever date someone with a massive tree up his ass? His hand will itch for the blade. He wanted to rid the world of Kiku’s existence right that second.
“Kuro, I’ll be honest I’ve found someone who matches my energy and I’m going to work it out with Kiku. We just work well together.” His eyes shot daggers at his green tea in an attempt not to scare you. He believes he still has a chance he’ll just have to convince you. However, he couldn’t suppress his vibes which could be cut by a plastic knife it was so thick. You bit your lip and gather your nerves. You pull out some yen from your bag to cover your drink and you leave in a huff. You knew from that point onwards that nothing in your life would ever be the same.
It takes Kuro an hour to finally end his staring competition with his tea. He’s never been so bothered in his life. He blocks you on all social media and uses his alt accounts to gather intel. He isn’t going to let you go, nor will he let Kiku win.
He definitely goes home that night to destroy a few trees and maybe even a few of his own men who dared to look at him the wrong way.
🇯🇵 🌸 Japan 🌸🇯🇵 He’s stunned. He will have few words in response.
“Okay, farewell Y/N… and it really was nice to meet you.” he will politely bow and walk away.
his heart will take a while to recover through because you a catch!
☠️🇷🇺 2p Russia 🇷🇺 ☠️Jesus Christ or Holy Fuck are the only phrases that are appropriate for the bitter resentment he has for Ivan. The normally just frigid atmosphere transformed into a bitter frost that could give anyone uninitiated to the cold instant frostbite. Ice on the window appears and freezes over behind him while he grips your written letter explaining to him why you made your choice. He’s nicer, his scarf was warmer and a much more inviting light pink than his confronting red one.
Outwardly he might be tame / measured inwards he’s brooding and plotting revenge on his counterpart….Only to execute none of it. He knows what he wanted is gone and he’s far too depressed to do something about it.
He’ll stay in his office while he writes out a complex seven-point plan placing a dead a dead gladiolus flower next to each. He imagines his rival in a pool of blood to make it easier for him to sleep at night.
🇷🇺🪆🌻Russia🌻🪆🇷🇺He does his best to choke back tears. He won’t lie you sent ice-picks straight to his heart. Thoughts about being lonely swarm his mind. It hurts him because you’re a mortal he’s grown fond of that didn’t have ulterior motives to be around him. He fiddles with his scarf to avoid your lovely (eye color) hues.
“I’m going to leave Y/N, farewell.” He leaves in order to keep at least some of his pride in tact.
‘Why Viktor? He’s even more terrifying than me!’ While he mulls over not winning you over, over some Vodka on the rocks a thought crosses through him:
‘Wait a minute if that psychopath can have a lover so can I! There is still hope!’
-End-
Thank’s for reading ya’ll !
#hetalia fandom#yandere hetalia#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#hetalia imagines#hws#hetalia#ヘタリア#headingalaxys writes stuff#headingalaxys spicy#axis powers ヘタリア#ヘタリア world stars#hetalia x reader#x reader#hetalia x you#dark hetalia x you
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
Teyvat | Drunken Stupor
ıllı Synopsis: Sides unseen and words unheard. Through drunken stupor, they couldn't help but adore you even more.
ıllı Genre: Romance, Fluff, Slight Angst
ıllı Characters: Cyno, Kaveh
ıllı Notes: Gender Neutral Reader, Use of endearment and profanity
ıllı Warning: Contains spoilers/leaks for Kaveh’s part
ıllı A/N: This week had been stressful, but I really wanted to write these! Has a hint of self-indulgent.
Intoxication. What a way to describe your body and mind's mellow yet poignant state right now. All thoughts blurred with each sip of the wine bought in Port Ormos. Their brewed wine was undeniably one-of-a-kind.
As you swirl the drink, the astronomical glaze it reflected under the starry sky made you ruefully smile. It was as if the stars themselves fell down the languid delicacy in your hand. Placing it down, you gazed at the field ahead of you and let the wind caress your face. It cooled off the heat pooling in your stomach from the amount you had consumed. A bit of relief washed over your body with each passing time.
"This is nice. Just a time for myself, not minding anything, and I have my favorite drink and dish with me. Hmm~” You muttered, mind already muddled. The bitter taste it left after each gulp was terrific.
Suddenly, a dendro crystalfly flew toward you and landed on your outstretched finger. It fluttered its wings, leaving elemental dust that tickled your nose. It almost made you sneeze, but you held it in to carefully inspect the creature. It was strange how it did not seem to mind human presence, so naturally, you expressed your thoughts to it.
"You know, Little One, it's been a long time since I get to be alone like this. I don't have to stress about anything, and I get to let myself go. But sometimes, it’s lonely. Do you think Tighnari will fetch me later? We're in Gandharva Ville, and I doubt my boyfriend will come to get me. He's in a far…far away place.” You uttered, emotions abruptly overwhelming you. You wiped the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes. The crystalfly fluttered its wings as if it wanted to comfort you. A small laugh escaped your lips before you let it go. It might not understand your words, but the kind company was welcomed.
🍁 CYNO — LUPUS AUREUS
As the night deepened, so did your mind in inebriety. The cool liquid burned your throat and drowned your senses as deep as Chasm. The sound of crunching leaves from behind fell on deaf ears, and the moment a familiar figure (or supposedly one) reached your vision, you were far gone. The colors blended from purple to green, then to blue, but you convinced yourself that it was just Tighnari.
"Nari! The wine I got from Port Ormos is so good! Hmm! So good... and... and... meatballs! Yeah, yeah. Join me!" You cheered, raising the cup of wine in your hands. Nearly falling down the log you were sitting on, Cyno swiftly came to your aid and held you in his arms. You giggled at the sudden movement despite how it made the world you woozy. The general heaved an exhausted sigh and steadied you before taking the drink away from your hands.
"I think that's enough for tonight, (Y/N). It's time to go home." He voiced. You looked at him and pouted, not liking the notion of coming home. Shaking your head, you pushed him away and stood up, but you were too drunk to stay upright.
"No! I-I can still drink, and the... the... Cyno is not home. I hate... being home alone." You whimpered. The general stiffened at your words. This was the first time he heard you speak about it and wished for you to elaborate. As they said, a drunkard's words are his honest thoughts.
"Do you hate Cyno for leaving you alone?" He solemnly asked. You blinked at the question and stared at your lap. It would be a lie to say you were all right being alone, but hating Cyno? Never. You could never.
"I love Cyno so much that I can't even describe it. Nari, didn't you tell me it was all right for me to be a little clingy? I... In reality, I don't know how to handle my love for him... that I might push him away." You replied earnestly. Cyno let out a relieved sigh, but he was concerned about your thoughts of pushing him away. There was no way that your affection for him would make him dislike you. He wished you would tell him more about what you liked about him because he still could not fathom why you chose him.
Cyno turned to you and grabbed a cup to drink. If you were not ready to go home, he might as well accompany you.
"I'm curious, (Y/N). Why did you choose him?" There was mirth twinkling in his eyes, but your hazy vision missed it. Instead, a warm feeling engulfed you.
"Cyno is strange, but he's kind, respectful, and devoted to his role. He's amazing, especially with how strong his will is. His eyes captivate you, and his jokes even make you topple over in laughter." You muttered, leaning on to him. A wisp of smile made it to your lips as you reminisced about your dinners with Tighnari, Collei, and Cyno. His bizarre humor was always the highlight of the night. It was nice to think about the General Mahamatra, but at the same time, it reminded you of the jealousy you hid in the depths of your heart.
The general heard you mumble more about how foolish you felt for harboring jealousy towards Tighnari and Nilou. The former was his close confidant, while the latter was a good friend who helped rescue the Dendro Archon. It pained your heart that you let small sobs escape you. Cyno's eyes widened at your words, much more so with the pitiful way you tried to stop your tears.
"But I-I don't blame you, Nari. I need to work on myself, that's all. Yeah... So, please don't tell Cyno." You pleaded. The white-haired general moved before you and held your hands away from your face, unable to keep the act. His scarlet eyes bore deep into yours.
"Your feelings are valid, (Y/N). We may not be perfect, but we can help each other out. You don't have to be jealous of them because I'm the one who should be. You're close with Alhaitha, Tighnari, and even Kaveh. I still can't believe you chose a stoic guy like me, but I see that you hold the same affection as I do. So please, tell me whenever you feel like this, okay?” He urged. A small smile made it to your face as you held his face in yours.
'So I was not dreaming that Cyno came to fetch me.' You thought. Cyno tightened his hold on your hands before giving your forehead a peck.
"My everything belongs to you, Love. I'll remind you of that even when I'm away." He promised. You leaned your body to him and let sleep finally catch up to your exhausted body.
🍁 KAVEH — PARADISAEA
It had been a hectic month for Kaveh, and after finishing a commission for a businessman in Port Ormos, he wanted nothing more than to cuddle you in bed. He claimed that you were his source of energy to deal with life's hardships. Even Alhaitham could not get to him when he was with you.
“I’m home, (Y/N)! Did you miss your dear lover?” He cheekily greeted after widely opening the door to his home (more like shared home with Alhaitham). However, he was met by a deadpan look from his roommate, who was leisurely reading his book.
"(Y/N) is out to Gandharva Ville. And take off your shoes, we just cleaned earlier." He berated, leaning further into the couch before turning on his noise-canceling earphones.
Kaveh could feel a headache coming his way, but he returned the deadpan stare and shook his head. He was too drained to argue. However, he did wonder how you pushed Alhaitham to do chores when the guy barely moved from his couch once he was comfortable with his chosen book for the day. He would ask once he found you. For now, he opted to take his shoes off and go to his room to change. Mehrak activated itself and floated around its master's room.
"Mehrak, (Y/N) is in Gandharva Ville, so no hugs for now." He voiced. The case was saddened and returned to its dormant state. Kaveh was amused, but he sympathized with the machine.
After changing, he grabbed Mehrak again and called out to his roommate that he would be fetching you. He was met with silence.
‘This bastard.’
Once he arrived at the headquarters of the Forest Rangers, he went to Tighnari to ask about your whereabouts. He told him you were drinking by the hills and might have been there for three hours already. He raised an eyebrow at that. It was rare for you to drink, much less be gone for this long. The Forest Watcher relayed your exact words, to which he sweatdropped.
"It's windy tonight, so I suggest you get moving if you don't want them to get a cold, Kaveh." Tighnari offered. The blond nodded before waving goodbye.
'I hope they're not too drunk.' He thought.
Kaveh ate his words. There you were, intoxicated and using your hydro vision haphazardly, trying to imitate what seemed to be Nilou's dance. You were humming to yourself, enjoying the breeze around you. After a turn, you grabbed and consumed another cup. The burn was satisfying. Suddenly, his tall figure caught your eyes, but recognition was washed down the drain.
"Hi! Hi! Woah, what a gorgeous man. Are you a fairy, mister? I love your eyes!" You giggled. He could see the drunken twinkle in your eyes and knew he had to stop you from drinking lest the hangover pummels you tomorrow.
"I'm not, but I can confidently say that you are one, Love. How about we sit down and pack up? Your soft bed is waiting for you at home." He urged. You stared intently at him and huffed.
"But Kaveh is not home... Oh, you don't know him. People call him the Light of Kshah... Kshahsha something, but he's charming! Wait, wait. I will sit down." You uttered, wobbly walking toward the log you previously occupied. Kaveh feared you would stumble on your feet, so he assisted you. Thanking him, you poured the alcohol into another cup in your bag and handed it to him.
A comfortable silence enveloped you two, so you turned to him and babbled about Kaveh. By the end of your drunken confession, the architect was a blushing mess. He tried to stop you, but your lips were loose once alcohol entered your system.
'Why are they so adorable!? I want to kiss them so bad!' Kaveh thought, hiding his face from your amused ones. Suddenly, a beeping sound interrupted your reverie. You looked to his side and saw Mehrak.
"Mehrak! Aww, why are you here? Did Kaveh misplace you again?" You cooed, the case nuzzling its body in your chest. Kaveh raised an eyebrow at the affection, but the moment he saw Mehrak's smug look, he knew. Mehrak was taking his partner.
"Oi! Mehrak, what are you doing!?" He hissed. You glared at him and scolded the blond for shouting at their partner's friend. Mehrak feigned a somber look, hiding the glint in its eyes.
“B-But, (Y/N)! Mehrak—“ Kaveh tried to explain. You wobbled on your feet, clumsily pointing a finger at him.
"Not an excuse! You shouldn't...shout, Mister! Kaveh will be angry, but I should... sleep now." You muttered, feeling your body lose its strength. Kaveh quickly noticed and caught you. A shaky sigh left him.
'I swear to the archons, you will be the death of me, (Y/N).' He mused.
Kaveh laid you down the log before packing up the place with Mehrak. While doing so, he gave his friend a hushed reprimanding, which it returned with amused sounds. He knew it was enjoying his jealousy earlier, so he let it slide. Once they were done, he hoisted you on his back and trotted back to Gandharva Ville to thank Tighnari for allowing you to stay in the village for a few hours. The fennec fox shook his head at your state and took out a bag.
"Take this with you. (Y/N) often doesn't know when to stop themselves when drinking." The Forest Watcher voiced, handing the medicine to Mehrak, who dematerialized it. Kaveh thanked him again and began to walk off.
The moon and the stars served as their light. The breeze made you shiver a little, so Kaveh pulled you impossibly closer to him. A mumble of his and Mehrak's names was audible in his ears, and he could not help but chuckle.
"So cute. Goodnight, Love."
Please do not copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!
116 notes
·
View notes
Text
afraid to lose you.
can be seen as a pt. 2 to "it stings."
# — pairing: kazuha x gn!reader
# — characters: gender neutral reader, kazuha
# — warnings: lightly suggestive
# — tags: some angst, fluff, making out, jealous!kazuha, ofc there would be kissing, who do you think i am
# — notes: the word count on this is 5,738. this took... about five hours. i haven't done this kind of writing in months, and holy FUCK does it feel good. like always, reblogs and reactions are appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!
wanna join the tag list?
✧ — 🍁 — ✧
it may seem like you know kazuha inside and out, but there are times when he thinks otherwise.
don't misunderstand — kazuha doesn't hide anything from you. not intentionally, anyway. the only reason why he may refrain from telling you something is because the topic just hasn't come up yet. if someone were to ask you any question pertaining to kazuha's home life before he became a wanderer, you likely wouldn't have an answer. you've never asked, so he's never told you. and because of that, some gaps may exist in your understanding of kazuha.
then again, he's still transparent to you, whether he makes it that way or not. you're terrifyingly observant at times, able to read even the slightest of gestures and decipher how he's feeling before he himself realizes it. there are times when kazuha wonders if you know him better than he knows himself. that fact extends to just about everyone you know, actually — all the members of the crux fleet are aware of your vigilance.
but you aren't without fault; the reason why kazuha thinks you don't truly know him is because there are times when you're... a bit slow on the uptake.
like right now, for instance.
"you don't want to hold your weapon so close to the blade." your voice comes in clear on the breeze. kazuha watches as you step closer to a man wielding a polearm and take his weapon, brandishing it yourself. "see where my hands are? even if the tip is the only thing doing damage, you need to be able to control the entire thing. try again." you hand the polearm back to the man, who stiffly does as you say. you shake your head and step behind him to manually adjust his stance. when you're finished, you step back. "isn't that a little more comfortable?" you ask him.
you're standing behind him, so you can't see his face, but kazuha can. and for some reason, his expression is... irritating.
"y-yeah, a little." the man answers. he swings the polearm as you instructed. "so like this..?"
you sigh. you take the man's arms from behind again and slowly swing his arms for him. as you do, kazuha actually has to look away, lest he look at your student's face again.
you're giving a one-on-one lesson to one of the new sailors at his request. what was his name again? kenji? all kazuha remembers is that he was the only one out of the six new recruits to hail from inazuma. it's not like him to be so forgetful. he'd normally beat himself up for being so discourteous — especially to someone from his homeland — but he isn't quite sure he wants to extend such courtesy to kenji. (if that's even his name.)
because as of late, kenji's been... monopolizing you, so to speak. you were entrusted with the task of training the new recruits. it was a simple enough job at first; kazuha was content to watch as you flattened the three recruits who were the most mouthy. but of the six, there was a straggler in the group — someone who just couldn't keep up to save their life. kenji required extra care, so you took it upon yourself to bring him up to speed. unfortunately, kenji was slower than you anticipated.
kazuha spares kenji a glance. his brows twitch when he sees the pink that's dusted itself over his features. he looks away again.
how can you be so observant, yet so blind to this man's obvious crush on you?
"do that a few more times," kazuha hears you say, "and you'll have a better foundation for when we start sparring some more." you rest a hand on your hip as you watch kenji swing his polearm as you instructed. "good. keep it up if you want to; i'm going to sit down. we're done for the day."
kazuha perks up at that. are you finally done? can he finally take you away from—
"wait!" kenji stops you mid-stride. "um... can you... t-tell me how you got your vision?"
you're silent for a moment. you slowly turn back to face him and kazuha wishes he can see the look on your face. "are you really curious?" you ask.
kazuha grits his teeth. say no, say no—
"yes," kenji says despite kazuha's internal pleading. to make a bad situation worse, you oblige him and walk back over, starting the tale of how you received your vision.
kazuha groans silently and bumps the back of his head on the tree he's sitting against. it's taking everything in him to not get up and yank you away from your starry-eyed pupil in this moment. because archons, the lovesick puppy eyes kenji is giving you is making his stomach twist. how are you, of all people, so oblivious? can't you see that? it's so obvious–!
kazuha reels himself back in. this isn't like him. he needs to get himself in check before you come back.
he takes a steadying breath. maybe he's just on edge because he didn't get much sleep last night. kenji has been doing this for weeks — taking up your time, playing dumb, ogling you... it's safe to say that kazuha hasn't been resting well knowing that come morning, you'd be whisked away to kenji's side again.
you finish your story a bit quicker than kazuha anticipated. before he knows it, you're walking over to him, leaving a dejected looking kenji in your wake. thankfully, kazuha's finished his breathing routine. he gives you his most patient smile when you seat yourself beside him. "all done for the day?" he asks quietly.
you grumble something under your breath and lie down, resting your head in kazuha's lap. like a magnet, his hand finds its way to your hair, idly twisting your locks around his fingers. "i can't believe i still have to correct him on his form." you seethe quietly. "why did he pick up a spear if he wasn't gonna use it right?!"
kazuha tries to bite back his chuckle, but he fails. thank the stars you're at least a little frustrated by kenji's behavior. a little more of that, and you'll be on your way to ignoring him in no time. (hopefully.)
"perhaps he wants to be a vision holder like you." kazuha says. "ambition is one of the main traits of a vision holder..."
you look up at kazuha, your face clouded with thought. "that'd explain his reluctance to give up... hopefully he practices enough to put up an actual fight tomorrow."
tomorrow? "you're going to be training him again tomorrow?" kazuha can't stop himself from asking.
you nod and look out to kenji, who is eagerly practicing the moves you taught him earlier. kazuha doesn't dare look. "yeah. if you're right and his goal is actually to obtain a vision, then... i guess i should help him, shouldn't i?"
...you're so nice that it hurts. and damn if he doesn't love that about you.
kazuha looses a soft sigh and pushes your hair off of your forehead. he leans down and presses a kiss right between your brows, chuckling when you pull them together in confusion. "you're a marvelous teacher." he laughs when you begin to fluster under the praise.
he's not lying; no matter how frustrating this situation may be, he would be remiss if he didn't acknowledge just how effective your teachings are. you practice what you preach, giving kazuha a run for his money whenever he spars with you. if kenji wasn't... well, kenji, he would be the best of the new recruits by now.
you look away and kazuha presses the back of his hand on your cheek. as he guessed, it's warm. you push him away with a grumble, making him laugh again. "stop that."
"shall i praise you more?" he teases, brushing his fingers across your cheek once more.
"...no." you close your eyes at the touch.
after that, a pleasant silence descends upon the two of you. and for the first time in what feels like forever, kazuha has you all to himself. the intrusive thoughts hush, and it's just you, him, and the breeze.
(in the distance, kenji watches the tender moment with a deep frown.)
maybe it's a good thing that you can't sense how kazuha feels about all of this. he can't make much of it himself.
that's a lie. he can, he just doesn't want to admit it to himself. that feeling is beneath him. what a wretched feeling it is. he won't even think it. there's no way he'd be feeling like that over some new recruit. he forces it down — out-of-sight, out-of-mind-style.
but when kenji approaches you while you're sitting with kazuha aboard the alcor, he finds that that feeling is much more difficult to contain than he initially thought.
"would you mind if i joined you?" kenji asks, and immediately, kazuha sees a problem here. why was his question directed solely at you? is he invisible?
besides, you're not exactly the most approachable right now; kazuha is sitting on top of a barrel and you're standing between his legs with his arms wrapped around you. no one has come up to you two for longer than a moment. (probably because they know how to read the room, kazuha thinks.)
you hum in what kazuha can only assume is assent. kenji makes himself comfortable on a barrel across from kazuha, his eyes never leaving your frame. "what do you need?" you ask. your voice sounds distant. kazuha peeks to see you're still staring out at the sea.
kenji flinches. "oh, um... nothing, i just... ah..." he fumbles over his words. his eyes are darting between you and kazuha, his ears turning redder by the second. "i couldn't find anyone else to pass the time with, so..."
kazuha blinks twice in disbelief. as of right now, he can hear four people who are talking aimlessly as they laze about, two of which are the new recruits. which means kenji purposely came looking for you. but why wouldn't he just leave right away when he saw what you were doing? (or not doing, kazuha thinks.)
you take your eyes off of the sea and focus on kenji, who visibly jolts at having earned your attention. (or is kazuha just too observant?) "why don't you tell me about yourself then?" you prompt him. "i don't know much about you outside of training."
and just like that, another moment is stolen from him. kazuha sighs silently, resigned. neither you nor kenji notice as the latter eagerly starts to chat you up. you may be standing in his arms, but you feel miles away right now, your heart and mind elsewhere yet again.
kazuha isn't upset with you over this. he could never be. he knows that you have no ill intent towards neither him, nor kenji, but... selfishly, he wishes you would open your eyes, even if it's only by a little. kenji's infatuation with you is far from subtle; it shows in the way he smiles whenever you speak and gapes whenever you laugh. if he were to be honest, if kenji had done all of this from afar, kazuha would be less inclined to keep you away from him at all costs. kenji is too close for comfort, and it's grating on kazuha's every nerve.
fed up with the lack of privacy, kazuha attempts to remove you from the situation. he taps two fingers on your side three times — taptaptap — a code the two of you created for when you want to make a quick escape.
you don't respond. perhaps you didn't feel it? kazuha tries again, but this time, you tap your index and middle finger on him twice — the code for not right now.
that ugly feeling rears its head. kazuha crams it back in whatever hole it came from.
maybe he felt wrong. again, he taps you three times, and again, you tap him twice. you're serious.
kazuha can't contain that feeling fast enough. he rubs your arm gently and eases you out of the way for him to get off of the barrel. when you look at him, confused, he takes your hand and gives you his most disarming smile. "i won't be far," he says. "you know where to find me, right, dove?"
your worried frown is almost reassuring. does this mean you've picked up on his discomfort? will you end the conversation and come with him? the answer is no — you nod slowly instead. "i'll finish up here and come find you when i'm done, okay?" you rub a circle into the back of kazuha's hand.
not the answer he wanted, but he'll take what he can get. kazuha presses a kiss to your knuckles. "i'll be waiting for you." he murmurs into your skin. you watch the gesture closely, as if you're trying to get a read on how he's feeling. it's obvious that you can't, though. before kazuha walks off, he spares kenji a glance only to find the recruit already looking at him. now, either kazuha is losing his mind, or kenji is smirking at him. for his sanity, it's best that he assumes the former. kazuha takes his leave and heads to the crow's nest, where he awaits your arrival.
the afternoon comes and goes, and kazuha understands that you're not coming and that once again, he's lost you to kenji.
it's become much too difficult for kazuha to not feel that feeling, which is why he traps you in his arms the following morning.
he wakes before you today — typically, this would be considered a rare occurrence, but thanks to a certain someone, he's been rising before the sun. kazuha takes the time just before and during dawn to really admire you. perhaps he took your presence for granted; it wasn't until after you'd been swept away that he realized just how little he'd been appreciating you lately.
(of course you would beg to differ; kazuha spends so much time admiring you that you think your heart is going to fail by an early age. though he doesn't know that.)
this morning, kazuha has his arms wrapped around your middle and his face buried in your chest. he shimmies back so he can get a better look at you. in the dim light of the morning, with the moon saying its last goodbye until the evening, kazuha raises his bandaged hand and traces your features with a feather-light touch. he brushes his thumb over your brow bone and traces your cupid's bow. you look so at peace right now; kazuha silently wishes to see you smile.
he runs his finger across the slope of your nose and smoothes a finger across your eyelids. you scrunch your nose and raise a hand to push him away at that, and kazuha presses his lips together to stop a chuckle. he must be bothering you, no? feeling mischievous, he pinches your nose briefly and sure enough, you quickly swat him away with a sharp inhale.
"can't you wake me up like a normal person..?" you groan, dropping a hand over your face.
kazuha puffs a soft laugh. "did i wake you?" he asks cheekily.
you crack your eyes open to give him a heavily lidded glare. "no." you bite sarcastically. "i'm still asleep."
"then you're dreaming. you should wake up, my love."
you sigh and mush your hand on kazuha's face, ignoring his laughter. "i can't stand you." you mutter. you move your hand to look him in the eyes properly. "good morning, kazuha. you ass."
kazuha takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each one of your fingertips. he revels in the way you sigh, tired yet smitten. the beginnings of a smile curl your lips, and kazuha thinks that this is what love feels like. "good morning, dove." he murmurs. "it's a new day. may the sun shine warmly upon you today."
you look as though you're blushing, though kazuha isn't sure. like always, he rests a hand on your face to feel the growing warmth. you don't push him away; instead, you close your eyes again with a sleepy hum. "the sun's not up yet," you mutter, "but good morning to you too, 'zuha."
kazuha inhales sharply at the usage of the nickname. he leans in close, and you half open your eyes. "dove," he breathes, hoping you understand. you do, and you meet him halfway. he kisses you for the first time in what feels like forever, tender and warm. it's so easy for him to unwind in your presence, when you touch him like this. he sighs into the kiss but you pull away, much to his disappointment.
"why are you awake so early this morning?" you ask. you comb your fingers through kazuha's hair and it's his turn to close his eyes, a shiver running through him. "did you have a bad dream?"
honestly, a bad dream would be far better than reality. for some reason, your words make him realize once again that you're going to be taken from him soon now that the sun is nearly up. bad dreams are temporary — impermanent visions of one's greatest fears. his greatest fear is losing you. and slowly, thanks to kenji, that very fear is being realized. he wishes the past few weeks were just a bad dream.
with you here, in his arms like this, it feels like that's all it was. kazuha sighs softly. "something like that," he mumbles.
you coo something incomprehensible and pull kazuha in properly, leaving no space between the two of you. you feel like home; his body melts into yours like he belongs there. "i missed you," he dares to whisper into your skin.
"i'm right here, kazuha," you say. "i always will be."
kazuha knows he should believe you, but you could be gone at any moment now. he pulls back to leave a gentle kiss on your lips again. you smile this time, still sleepy, but just as bright as the morning sun. "good morning again, 'zuha." you kiss him one more time for good measure. he doesn't let you get very far, capturing your lips once more.
hours pass by and you're still here. neither of you have made a move to get up despite the sounds of other sailors starting to move about the ship. kazuha lies wrapped in your embrace, his heart fluttering every time you press a fleeting kiss to his skin.
but all good things must come to an end. there's a knock on the door to your cabin, effectively waking the two of you up. you'd been starting to doze back off together before this. kazuha doesn't say a word and neither do you, hoping to get the person to leave, but after a drawn out silence, they knock again. and again. and again. clearly, this person won't give up. you cave in and groan. "who is it?" you call out.
the voice that comes from the other side makes kazuha freeze. "it's kenji! you said we would train together today, remember?"
kazuha looks at you. he can only hope he doesn't look as desperate as he feels. he silently begs you to remain silent or to turn him away, to just stay by his side for today. but you sit up quickly — too quickly. "shit, i did," you swear to yourself. you peel yourself out of kazuha's embrace and quickly start to get ready, leaving kazuha cold. "gimme a minute, i'll be out soon!" you call out again.
kazuha sits up slowly, his eyes downcast. "are you... going to train him again?" the question is out before he can stop himself. he's barely got that feeling in check, his control hanging on by a thread. the first tender moment you've shared in weeks — ruined. he can't take this anymore.
you look over at him, but you don't stop getting ready. kazuha's stomach twists. "yeah," you say as you pull your shirt on. "why?"
"this may be presumptuous of me, but could you... stay in just for today, dove?" archons, he must look so pathetic right now.
"i really want to, but i already stayed in longer than i should have." you fix your clothing in the mirror nearby.
kazuha winces, but you miss it. you're right. he may feel a certain way about the person you're around, but at the end of the day, you have a duty to fulfill, and he shouldn't keep you from that. he feels like a liability to you.
you finish getting ready and sit on the edge of the bed. you cup his cheek and make him face you. there's concern and apology written all over your face. "i'll make it up to you soon, okay?" you promise. it's not an empty promise — it's the first time you're saying this to him. perhaps he should believe you. you've never given him reason to doubt you before.
kazuha nods. "i'll hold you to that, songbird." he won't. "go on; i'm sure he's waiting for you."
you surprise him by kissing him quick and rushing a goodbye. in the blink of an eye, you're gone, leaving him by his lonesome.
it's not until you're gone that kazuha realizes that he doesn't know when 'soon' will be.
it was only a matter of time before kazuha lost control of that feeling.
soon never came. for the rest of that day, you were by kenji's side. you returned to the ship sporting a few cuts and bruises, courtesy of your student. he was much more injured than you were, but he was all smiles — you both were. some real bonding must have occurred while you two were at each other's throats because you were inseparable from that point forward. before kazuha went to bed that night, he noticed kenji looking at you with so much fondness that it made him want to bury his head in the sand. that was the last straw; seeing an outsider look at you the same way a lover would — the way kazuha does.
a few days go by before kazuha reaches his breaking point.
he's alone this afternoon. he decided to take to the streets of liyue harbor hoping the hustle and bustle would jumble his thoughts enough so that he could stop thinking. if you were here, you would steer him away from so much activity since you know how much he detests high-energy environments. instead, you're... elsewhere. he actually has no idea where you are. he pretends that that doesn't bother him. he pushes it away; out of sight, out of mind, right..?
he eventually comes to a stop at the docks and takes a seat. it turns out that he couldn't handle all of the excitement. it's quieter here. it allows him to make sense of his thoughts.
as he looks out at the water, he figures that perhaps it's time for him to face the truth.
he's... jealous.
kazuha cringes inwardly. to give that feeling a name feels... disgusting. he feels foolish. how idiotic of him to feel jealous of someone like kenji, of all people. kazuha has known you for so long, and has been by your side for longer. you would actually probably laugh at him if you knew he felt this way — it seems impossible for someone like kazuha to feel like this.
but at this point, who could blame him? how else is he supposed to feel when his heart is being kept away from him? when it feels like his heart doesn't want to return to him? what about kenji has you running back to him all the time? kazuha refuses to question his worth to you — you wouldn't return to your cabin every night if he meant nothing to you — but the fact that you're gone before he wakes makes him wonder if he's at fault. was he boring you? was he too clingy? what did he do?
as he's mulling over ways to try and confront you on the whole ordeal, he hears footsteps approaching. he doesn't dare turn around. he knows exactly who's coming.
"kenji," he greets the newcomer without looking up. "how nice of you to join me. to whom do i owe this pleasure?"
"oh, no one! i just thought you seemed kinda bummed out, so i thought i'd come by." kenji sounds upbeat and, if kazuha strains his ears, seems to be using a dialect used by inazumans in the countryside. is he trying to make kazuha feel comfortable?
"do i, now?" kazuha works his jaw a few times in an attempt to reel back the attitude. he can't go around giving people the wrong impression of him, can he? (even if that person is kenji.) "i appreciate the gesture. but i'm afraid it's unnecessary."
kenji makes a noise of confusion. kazuha still refuses to look at him. "why so? i could've sworn you were upset. you look down whenever your friend isn't around."
his... what? "pardon?"
kenji says your name. "usually you're around them, but lately you guys haven't been together, and i thought you looked pretty down about it. was i wrong?"
kazuha's not sure if he should laugh. surely kenji doesn't think you two were just friends. that can't be right, can it? he decides to drag this out. "not completely," he half-laughs. "there's more to it than that."
"oh, so you like them too?" kenji's quick to sit by kazuha's side, a strange excitement lacing his tone.
too?
"they're amazing, aren't they?" kenji continues. he launches into some kind of infatuated rant about you and your skills, your sense of humor, and things of the like. and the longer it goes on, the more incredulous kazuha's stare grows. who exactly did kenji think he was talking to right now? did he honestly think that you two were just friends and nothing more?
kenji's next words are the nail in the coffin. "if i'm being honest, i'm thinking of making a move..."
kazuha puts a hand up, cutting kenji off. he can't fucking believe this. he needs to see you. now. "as flattered as i am that you thought to cheer me up, i believe i should take my leave now." he says, fighting the urge to clench his teeth.
"oh! so, you're not upset?"
"it's hard to say." kazuha stands and wishes kenji well before allow his feet to carry him to the ship. he lets the wind tell him of your whereabouts — it feels nice to do that after so long.
luckily for him, you're in your shared cabin. you're sitting on the bed, reading something. you jump at kazuha's sudden entrance, but smile when you see him. "hey, welcome back!" you scoot to the side, making room for him on the bed. kazuha takes his spot beside you. "what's going on?"
kazuha has no idea what to think anymore. this whole time, he was jealous of a man who couldn't tell when two people were in a relationship. he spent weeks questioning his worth and putting himself down for this? this... this was a waste of his time! he's been surrounded by two people who just couldn't read a situation this entire time; you, who couldn't tell just how much kazuha was agonizing over this, and kenji, who needed a total reality check.
you pull him out of his thoughts with a light touch to his hand. "kazuha? is everything okay?"
"were you aware of kenji's feelings for you?" he asks. straight to the point. no cutting corners.
you blink. so no then. "his what?"
"it's been painfully evident for weeks that your student has been harboring strong one-sided feelings for you, dove." kazuha's patience is wearing thin.
"i've been knocking him around for weeks, why the hell would he like me?" you shudder, seemingly uncomfortable with the thought. that's reassuring, at least. "plus, couldn't he tell that i'm not available?"
"i can answer that for you." kazuha shakes his head. "he had no idea. he approached me and informed me that he thought of, and i quote, 'making a move'." he chuckles when you reel back in shock.
"i should probably let him know—" you start to get up, presumably to find kenji and inform him of the truth, but kazuha grabs your wrist, stopping you. "hm?"
"may i suggest something else?" he asks. when you nod, he cups your face in one hand and leans in to press a short kiss to your lips. kazuha kisses you again, even slower this time.
when you part, you whisper, "i don't see how this is gonna fix anything."
kazuha grins almost wolfishly. "do you trust me, dove?"
you nod.
"then follow my lead." kazuha captures your lips sweetly, savoring every second it drags on.
it's been quite some time since he's kissed you like this — slowly and without haste. he uses this as a chance to make up for the time you've lost thanks to this whole ordeal. he licks at the seam of your lips and you let him in, tilting your head to deepen the kiss some more.
kazuha's head starts to spin. he's intoxicated by you already — usually, he's able to contain himself for longer. drunk on the taste of you, kazuha inches forward and you lean back, taking the hint and breaking the kiss to lie down. he hovers over you and snakes his hand up your arm, taking your wrist in his bandaged fingers. the two of you stare at each other, exchanging silent words of adoration before your lips meet again, a bit more feverish this time.
there's untapped passion pouring out of kazuha as he licks into your mouth. he drinks in every sigh, swallows every content noise you make and thrives off of them, using your pleasure as fuel. this is what he wanted — what he needed — and it seems like you agree. he breaks away from your lips and trails heated kisses down to your neck, where he lets the frustration of the past few weeks go.
mark after mark appears on your neck, a palette of purples and reds decorating your skin. they bloom under kazuha's lips like flowers of desire, and he feels dizzy. it doesn't help that you're whining whenever he nips at your skin, nor does it help that you have your fingers tangled in his hair.
"kazuha, this is—" your breath hitches. "you're biting kinda hard..."
oops.
that's all kazuha needs to push off of you, but not before leaving a mark just underneath your jaw, dark and obvious, where it'd be impossible to hide. he gazes down at you in all your flushed glory. you're breathing a little heavy, as is he, and your eyes are hooded. you're a mess beneath him. you're stunning.
unfortunately, he knows he should stop. kazuha leans down and kisses you as an apology. "forgive me, songbird," he murmurs against your lips. "you sounded so pretty for me."
you slap at his shoulder, making him chuckle. he sits up and after a couple seconds, so do you. you run your fingers gingerly over the marks kazuha left on you. "so is this how you're letting kenji know what's going on?" you ask, your voice breathy.
kazuha's brows twitch at the name. he almost forgot why he was doing this. "yes." he watches as you walk over to the mirror to inspect them. "i take it you like what you see?"
you glare at him through the mirror. "he's not the only one who's gonna get the message," you grumble. "you left them in the most obvious places!"
"and yet you can't stop touching them. you like them, don't you?"
you throw a brush at him, which he easily catches. "i can't stand you. why don't you admit that you were jealous, then?"
that word. that feeling that he so desperately tried to avoid naming. there's no use hiding from it anymore, is there? kazuha nods. "i was, actually. he took up so much of your time, i..." he feels a sudden tug of guilt again. "i've battled with myself for weeks over it."
you return to your spot beside him. "weeks..? kazuha, i—"
"i thought that i'd done something to repel you." he confesses. "and i didn't want to keep you stuck by my side when you didn't want to be. but truthfully, i... i missed you, petal. very much." he raises a hand to brush over the fresh marks. you shiver in the wake of his touch. "which is why i got so carried away."
to his surprise, you throw your arms around him and bury your face in his shoulder. he wraps his arms around you in kind, holding you as close as he can. "i'm sorry." your words are muffled by his clothes. "i should've managed my time better. and i should've noticed his behavior a lot sooner."
kazuha sighs and melts into your arms just a little more. "that matters not anymore." he mumbles. "what matters now is that you're here, and you're aware. and," he pulls back to look at you again, "when he sees you again, he knows about us."
"you want him to know i'm yours, don't you?" you ask. you sound sassy, but your expression tells a different story. you look sheepish, if anything.
for some reason, your words make kazuha feel the same way. that's the heart of the issue, isn't it? he wants not just kenji, but everyone else who may see you to know that you're completely off-limits. not even he knew he was capable of feeling so possessive.
you don't seem bothered by it, however. you seem... satisfied. you smile. "i'm yours, kazuha," you affirm. "from now until forever."
he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. forever may sound like a long time, but it's enough to send his heart aflutter. he's never going to lose you to anyone else.
(when the two of you leave your cabin, you run into kenji. kazuha takes great pride in watching the recruit's eyes blow wide when he catches sight of the marks on your skin. and to the surprise of no one, he suddenly improves in his combat skills. so much so, in fact, that he doesn't need any more one-on-one training.)
✦ i am so SO sorry for all this. the ending is messy, i know.. kinda outta order, but hey, it's done! i'm proud of the rest of it, okay?
#[ ✍️🏽 — scribbles! ]#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#kaedehara kazuha#kaedehara kazuha x reader#kazuha x reader#WHAT A MONSTER!!
938 notes
·
View notes
Text
Honeybees!
I've had a lot of asks about writing updates in my inbox. Things have been on pause so that I could reread CC and dive into the new sjm book. I have been busy, but still writing in the after-hours.
Things stand as such:
Darkgarden 🌙 🪻🌌 will be updated next, hopefully within the next week. I am really in the atmospheric mind for this story and am pressing through plot heavy chapters that are difficult to write 😐 so we can get to the deep dark divinity of our darlings finding their sexy beautiful happiness 😍. I am going to be turning out updates at a high rate until it is finished by April. This story is my grand symphony of work but takes a ton of emotional energy to write.
Midnight Clear 🩵❄️🌬️ will be wrapped by the end of the month.
Eden Lost 💐🌄 🌸 is on pause (not hiatus) for now. I'm in dark/winter mode and the summer vibes are not summering at this moment. I refuse to do anything but the ultimate justice to this story and will turn my attention to it when it can be whole and undivided.
Autumn Burns 🍂🔥🍁 is on true hiatus until the fall, when I am going to release the story in full.
Thank you for your patience and readership. I do honestly crank out fic at a ridiculous rate compared to most people. I've needed a breather the last few weeks. I will never, not even if the stars turn to dust, abandon these stories, they are my heart. Please remember they are not just 'content' - they are challenging emotive webs I am weaving together. Love you all!
xoxo
ehoney 🥀🍯
19 notes
·
View notes
Note
🍁 + when crafting your responses from the collective Hanks, do you find that the ones whose response comes easiest/fastest and hardest/last tend to line up with your usual preferences, or does the group approach switch things up at all for you? If the latter, how so?
So, the boring answer is - it depends!
A lot of the time, it really does depend on the question that they're asked or the prompt they're given - a prompt that's introspective about the X-Men or the nature of his own development, I tend to find that an answer from feline Hank, modern Hank, and X-Force Beast tends to spring forth pretty easily, because they tend to be a decently straight line from optimistic to pessimistic to nihilistic.
Baby Hank can be either the easiest answer or the hardest answer, depending on what the prompt is and how much life experience he has that's relevant to the question.
That being said, my usual preference of feline Hank as the standard and the most used, does tend to hold true when they're in a collective - I never have to think about what he feels, he always comes straight to my brain in a snap of fingers. I know him the best, I like him the best, he comes to my mind the easiest.
From that point on it's just a case of applying the emotional logic, remembering the experiences that have or haven't happened, their general state and emotional vibe, their relationship with their body and others . . . honestly, the collective answers tend to be relatively easy just because they're only dialogue, and I find pretty much every Beast's dialogue easy to write, with the exception of the far off parasite verse in verse: I offer you fear in a handful of dust.
He doesn't talk almost at all, and especially very rarely in the collective responses, because he doesn't feel the need to. He's as solitary as moisture. He has no desire to chime in - most of the time.
One thing you may have noticed - they don't often tend to talk directly to each other! This is just because my ability to write dialogue for them ad nauseam means they would likely never shut up, but if they are in a group and they are talking to each other, Dark Beast tends to be the grinning little malcontent that says something that sets them all off, and they all know exactly how they respond to him. Even X-Force Beast doesn't like him, and vice versa.
Oddly enough, feline Hank is the one who understands him best, and knows that he shouldn't engage, but does anyway. He knows him best, I suppose, has spent the most time with him, which is a funny thought.
TL;DR - the usual preferences tend to shine through unless the prompt/ask/situation really heavily brings out a response from a particular Hank, and in a group, Dark Beast tends to be the instigator with a violent/cruel answer that the others all react to.
Feline Hank tends to be the designated 'leader' because he has more moral authority than modern Hank, but also the most life experience and knowledge compared to baby and Avengers Hank, who may be more 'moral' but they're also far less capable of wrangling the group.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fall, For You
Peter Parker x fem!reader
Masterlist
Summary: Your family didn’t really celebrate Halloween growing up, but Peter is about to change that by doing everything autumn with you 🧡🍁
Word count: ~5.2k
Warnings: Slightly spooky stuff at the beginning? Terrible Halloween puns. Some adorable fluff. Reader uses she/her pronouns.
A/N: I hope you all love this! It’s been a bit stop and go writing this, but it’s inspired by my own fall activities this year! I love autumn, Halloween, and chilly weather, so enjoy this domestic cuteness with Peter <3 As always, please let me know if you enjoyed it! I love hearing from you
The way the autumn sun beat down on you from the late afternoon sky should have been comforting in the chilling air, but a breeze brushed past you, leaving goosebumps in its wake and rustling the imposing stalks of corn surrounding you. As your head whipped around and around, you could have sworn Peter had just been right next to you, but the gravelly whispering of the corn and faraway talking of families traversing the maze were the only noises you heard.
“Peter?” you called, your voice falling flat into the air. No response.
You dug the toe of your shoe in the dirt, drawing a heart while you waited, hoping Peter had just fallen behind and was about to turn the corner. But as the stalks in front of you started swaying back and forth, something moving through them, your doodle washed away in the kicked-up dust you made as you backed away.
“Peter, is that you?” The words felt thin, straining on your vocal cords. Halloween wasn’t exactly your thing, but going to a corn maze doesn’t really count as a Halloween activity. You weren’t so sure anymore, though, as your back hit the other side of the path, the brittle ears poking against your body in sharp points.
“Boo!”
You watched a figure jump out from the corn, your muscles tense until his foot hit a rock and drawstring bag caught on a stalk, your mind having no doubt of who can be so clumsy. Peter bobbled something between his hands, and any fear that was in your body a second ago was replaced by laughter as your shoulders shook.
By the time he composed himself, you were able to see it was a bag of kettle corn in his outstretched arms, an embarrassed grin on his face. You grabbed the bag from him, unable to stop the laughs from escaping your mouth while turning away from Peter. Going on a surprise horror movie date was not initially part of your autumn plan. As you opened up the bag and took some, relishing in its sweet and salty taste, you said, “You know this is what you get for trying to scare me, right?”
Your feet carried you along the path, ready to keep going whether your boyfriend was keeping up, but you heard Peter scurrying along behind you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him scratching a hand along the back of his neck once he caught up. “I know… I meant it to be more of a surprise than a recreation of Children of the Corn. I’m sure you’re regretting making this list with me now.” Gesturing to the bag, he said, “But at least I got us a snack while we’re in here!”
You continued to crunch on the popcorn, motioning for him to take some. Peter, having heard your childhood experience with Halloween (or lack thereof), had decided to make a must-do list of Halloween/fall activities. It wasn’t that the holiday had somehow scarred you or left you with bad memories; it was just that your family never really got into it, so neither did you.
The list included going to an apple orchard, carving pumpkins, watching spooky movies, and everything that you usually enjoyed from a distance each autumn — like traversing a corn maze.
Catching a glimpse of his mouth stuffed full, you said with a grin, “I didn’t know your surprises came with Texas Chainsaw Massacre recreations. Maybe skip the surprise party idea for my next birthday, please.” You nudged your elbow against his arm, hoping the brief touch conveyed that you were kidding and grateful for the snack.
“Hey, I’m just trying to get us in the spirit of things…” he said, a satisfied look on his face as his hand reached into the bag to grab some more.
Pursing your lips, you let out a tired hum. Corny (ugh) puns weren’t on your list either. “I didn’t know I was dating a vampire. Cause that sucked.”
A giggle escaped your mouth as Peter gasped, his hand clutching his chest. “Bubeleh! Mon cher! Mon amour, querido…” he declared, turning his body toward you and training his gaze on yours. “My darling. You drive a stake through my heart!”
He reached for your hand, pulling you in close, your head resting against his as laughs shook through you. Looking into his eyes, you said, “Peter, do you know you’re the most dramatic person ever?”
The breath of smile that graced his face outshined the sun’s warmth and erased any fear you’d had before – erased everything besides him for that brief moment. You’d had reservations about this list at first, already wiping your hands clean of Halloween at this point in your life. But as Peter kissed each of your knuckles, the warmth of his body infusing into your skin, you knew you’d follow him anywhere. Match your pace with his and spend a lifetime unraveling his mind and soul to see the world from his beautiful point of view, even if that included his corniness.
His eyes seemed to unfocus as his lips traveled up, eventually finding yours. Every movement was slow, how his mouth moved against you and the way his hand crept down your back. Your body pressed tight against him, threading your fingers into the hair sticking out from his hat.
A deep breath filled your lungs, your mind fuzzy as it inhaled the earthy smell of Peter and the feeling of his body against yours. But before you got too lost in the spell Peter seemed to always put you under, you felt a pinch on your butt, a yelp escaping your mouth.
“Peter!” You whisper-yelled at him, swatting his chest. The boyish smirk on his face matched your own, making you feel like stupid teenagers again.
He just grabbed your “attacking” hand, swinging your arms back and forth as you began walking again. “You still love me though.”
You let out a scoff, shaking your head. “Sometimes I think you love my ass more than you love me, though.”
“Well, your ass…” he said, bringing his hand to rest in the back pocket of your pants, “never called me dramatic or said that my jokes suck.”
With a laugh, you said, “You’re lucky I love kettle corn, or I’d be throwing this all over you.” You grabbed another handful before letting Peter have some, your feet walking in step together as you traversed the corn maze.
“I love you.”
A gentler breeze pushed past, bringing you closer to Peter.
“I love you too.”
By the time the two of you found the exit, not that you were studying the map very closely, the sun had started its dipping journey toward the horizon. You’d already had plenty of apple and pumpkin flavored drinks and junk food, picked some apples for home, and Peter even convinced you to ride the giant slide. Your constant giggles were lost to the wind whipping past you, but the wide grin on your face was unmistakable, even if Peter had beat you to the bottom first.
You strolled along the pumpkin patch at the end of the day, the sounds of families and vendors a bit quieter now. The wafting smells of the concession stands still filled the air, lingering and mixing with the distinct scent of autumn. Your hands turned pumpkins this way and that to find a good one when Peter came up next to you, his arms wrapping around your body. His chest held your back as you swayed side to side.
“Find anything good?” he asked, his cheek coming to rest against yours.
“Peter, I don’t know what a good pumpkin for carving looks like,” you laughed out. “I’m basically just admiring them.”
“Hmm… let's get these two.” He pointed to two medium-sized pumpkins in front of you, both having a few bumps on them and leaning to the side, but they didn’t look too bad to your limited knowledge.
Turning your head, you looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Why those two?”
His arms squeezed you tighter. “Because you’re cold, and those were the first ones I saw. Let’s get you back in the car.”
Your jaw dropped just a bit before saying, “We can’t just get any old pumpkins for my first carving!” You crossed your arms. “And I’m not that cold…”
He raised an eyebrow at you, his arms releasing you. You tried to hide the way your body missed the heat of his already. Peter shrugged off the drawstring bag from his back, pulling out a thick piece of clothing. “Here, put on your sweater.”
“I’m fine. I already have my flannel,” you said, fingers coming to play with the red flannel hugging your body. Of course, none of that stopped him from thrusting the sweater toward you again.
When you didn’t budge, he raised your arms up and started putting the sweater on you himself. Your lips pressed tight when the warmth of it felt nice on your skin, its softness not too far off from the feeling in your chest for Peter at the moment. As he straightened it out here and there, he said, “I don’t want to brag or anything, but I happen to know my incredible, but very stubborn, girlfriend pretty well.” His eyes softened when he looked at you, his gaze seeming to take all of you in. “I brought the sweater for you to wear when you got cold.
He wrapped his hand in yours and said, “And… if you knew your boyfriend, the love of your life, your true love, you’d know that I didn’t bring any sweater for me – I get way too warm no matter what I do.”
You stopped the giggle rising in your throat to let out a gasp this time, mimicking him from earlier. “Are you implying that I don’t know the moon and stars of my life?” At Peter’s laugh, you continued, “I just thought you were trying to blend in as a normal person with a normal body temperature, but I see that didn’t work.”
“Hey, someone has to take over your role as the hot one in this relationship,” he said, giving you a cheesy wink.
Ready to be done with his puns, you agreed on bringing home those pumpkins. Peter heaved them onto his shoulders with ease and carried them to checkout and the car, not hiding his incredible strength as much as you would’ve liked. But you just trailed alongside him, other goodies in hand.
After loading up the car and taking your seats, you rested your head on his shoulder. A long exhale left your lungs, wondering whether missing out on Halloween as a kid was that bad when it meant spending a whole season living like this.
--
“People do this for fun?!”
A few days later, you sat on your newspaper-covered floor in some old sweats, plunging a knife into the top of your pumpkin. By the time you’d carved out the lid, your muscles ached from cutting through the pumpkin’s thick skin— of course messing up a few times and having to redo it again and again.
Your tired arms then reached inside. A couple of handfuls of slimy pumpkin “guts” is what led to your outburst, your mind a bit confused as to why people enjoyed this mess.
“Yeah… I can’t really blame you for thinking that,” Peter said, the back of his hand coming to wipe away stray pumpkin on his cheek. A borrowed headband laid on his head, pushing his messy hair back and away from his face. “But, most of the time, they turn out beautiful. Like you.”
A small smile creeped onto your face as you said, “Did you just compare my beauty to a carved pumpkin?”
Peter, a bit a head of you, put his marker down and looked between his pumpkin and you. Clicking his tongue, he pondered, “Yeah, I’m definitely seeing a resemblance.”
When you tried peeking over at his design, he turned it away from you, hiding it against his body. “Hey! No cheating!”
You shook your head at him, going back to emptying the pumpkin. Once you scraped enough out, you fixed the lid back on and grabbed a book of carving stencils Peter had picked up. Flipping through, you stopped on one in particular, a grin spreading from ear to ear.
“Sweetheart, I’m not sure I like that look.” You lifted your head at Peter’s voice, seeing his raised eyebrows. But since two could play at this game, you tore the page from the book and held it close as you taped it onto the pumpkin.
You didn’t have to peek over at him to know what his face looked like when a sigh came from his direction.
The two of you worked in a comfortable silence accompanied by a playlist of spooky and Halloween-themed songs. Your wrist started to ache after a bit, but you kept going until the final section was cut through and fell away.
As a proud smile grew and you did a little dance back and forth, Peter said, “I take it you’re done then?”
“Yep,” you said, popping the “p” as you wiped away any debris. “And I think it definitely bears resemblance to you as well.”
Letting out a snort, he grabbed the candles to put inside (electric so you didn’t burn anything down, because you could absolutely not afford it). You took it from his outstretched palm, making sure he didn’t catch a glimpse of your design.
He settled on one side of the dinner table while you stood at the other. “Okay, you ready?” he asked. At your nodding, he said, “One, two… three!”
His hands grabbed the sides of his pumpkin as you grabbed yours, spinning them around at the same time.
“Really?” Peter groaned, his face unamused. You’d found a relatively easy template to work with, one of a cute little spider sitting in the corner of a web. “That’s a bit on the nose, don’t ya think?”
You widened your eyes, giving him an innocent look. “I think you two are twins.” Your finger pointed at his pumpkin, your other hand coming to rest on your hip as you studied the design. “And how exactly do I resemble Jack Skellington, Peter?”
He had carved the face of The Pumpkin King, quite well you observed. You two had just watched The Nightmare Before Christmas last week, Peter singing along to all the songs while you both drank mugs of hot apple cider.
“Well…” he started, his top teeth digging into his bottom lip to stop from smiling, “I wouldn’t mind boning you, darling. Y’know, like a skeleton.”
“Yes, I get it.” Rubbing a hand down your face, mostly to cover the creeping smile, you asked, “Did you spend all night thinking of that one?”
Peter came around, grabbing one pumpkin in each arm and walking toward the door. “C’mon, let’s go look at them outside.”
Your mouth twisted, very aware that his lack of an answer probably meant “yes.” Following him outside onto the front porch, your feet padded against the wood, your skin chilling in the air.
As soon as he set them on the porch ledge, you snuggled up into his side, bringing his arm around your shoulder. Your designs flickered into the dark night side by side, surrounded by the few orange and black decorations you had put up out here.
You felt the deep inhale and exhale of Peter’s breath, the only noise to accompany the sounds of a distant owl. He squeezed your arm, his fingers rubbing back and forth along your skin. Maybe all this was worth the pumpkin guts.
--
Like all the other activities on the list, Peter had come up with this idea — to go out and have a little fall photoshoot. You weren’t one to volunteer yourself as a model, but you were weak once he had brought out his camera and the puppy dog eyes.
You’d put together a nice fall outfit, complete with a thick cardigan of course. Peter himself wore a hooded flannel that made him look like autumn and home brought to life — which made you hesitate for a second on planning to “borrow” it at some point, but only a second.
He drove you out to a park a little north, the two of you holding hands as you walked through. Families and couples sat around on the grass or throwing a ball around, but Peter led you farther back as the growth got a bit thicker.
After a few minutes, the conversations of people growing quieter, you walked into a small clearing. You were surrounded by a canopy of fiery reds, yellows, and oranges as the trees swayed back and forth in the wind. You’d never really taken a silent moment to just watch the world change as it got colder.
You were admiring the beautiful ceiling of leaves above you when a click sounded from behind. Turning, you saw Peter with his camera in his hands and a smile plastered on his face.
“Hey, I didn’t know we were starting already!” You crossed your arms, but he answered with more clicks of his camera.
“I’m an artist, sweetheart. Don’t question my methods.” He walked around you, trying to get good angles you assumed, but the attention felt a bit stifling.
“Peter, I don’t know what I’m doing. I mean, where do I put my arms?” you asked, flopping your arms against your side.
He lowered his camera, his eyes connecting with yours. You let out a huff as he walked toward you, your body feeling awkward and unsure of what he wanted you to do.
As he got close, he raised his hands to your face, fingers curving around your jaw and cheeks. His breath came out just above a whisper, his nose brushing yours. “I only want to take beautiful pictures, so just be yourself. Okay?”
Your warm cheeks felt nice in the chilly air, your chest blooming as you turned your head away from his gaze. At your hesitation, he pulled away and brought the camera strap up over his head, putting it over yours instead.
“Here, take some of me first,” he said, cupping his hands around yours, bringing them to wrap along the camera and placing your finger on the button. He gave your hands a final squeeze before backing up near the edge of the trees.
Peter made a bunch of funny poses, sticking his tongue out and flexing just to make you laugh. And it worked, some of the pictures probably coming out blurry from your shoulders shaking. Your grin slowly lowered when he turned to actually posing, leaning against a tree or sitting on a rock surrounded by the beautiful leaves.
You never ceased to be surprised by Peter’s looks, somehow always being caught off guard by how angelic he looked. He wasn’t always confident, but with the air he carried about himself these days, it was hard to keep your breathing even when he looked like this. Each of the warm autumn colors surrounding you two made his eyes look so intense, you welcomed the separation of the camera between your bodies.
Hoisting himself up, he trotted over to you, his cheesy smile right back on his face. His hand reached out to grab the camera, lifting it over your head as he said, “Got any good ones? Hope you captured my ‘Blue Steel’ look. I’ve been practicing.”
“Oh, I got it. That one’s going right above our bed.” Your giggles joined his along with the sound of birds chittering in the branches above. Before you could distract him anymore, he pointed with his head, motioning for you to pose as he did.
Pursing your lips, you backed away from him, steps moving slow as they dragged among the fallen leaves and dirt. Swallowing any awkwardness itching in your stomach, you stood and smiled for the pictures Peter took of you. You moved around, trying little differences to see if they felt any more natural. As you leaned against the same tree that Peter did, your smile grew just a tiny bit at feeling the warmth he left behind.
Though it comforted you, he must’ve still seen your apprehension because, still with his face behind the camera, he said, “Hey sweetheart?”
“Yeah?”
He lowered the camera to show you his dumb Blue Steel impression again, pouty lips and all. You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but a wide grin broke across your face, your eyes shutting for a second as your cheeks squished high. More clicks sounded into the air, but you were laughing too much to care.
Peter grabbed a few more photos before motioning for you to come back toward him while he kneeled to put his camera away in his bag. Fidgeting with your fingers, you asked, “So, how’d I do?”
Looking up at you, the softest look gracing his features, he stood and grabbed your hands. He brought them to wrap around his neck and let go, bringing his to rest on your waist. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever photographed.”
“Peter…” you said, your words mumbled as you curled against him.
He brought his head up, looking past you as he declared, “I know you’re usually the right one in this relationship, but not today. Let me bask in this moment of being 100% correct for once.”
You just shook your head, your cheek brushing along his body. “Fine, I’ll let you have this one. But only if we watch The Addams Family when we get home.” A beat of silence passed. “And drink hot chocolate. With whipped cream!”
Peter barked out a laugh, his rumbling chest shaking your body. “Easiest decision I’ve ever made, darling. Besides loving you, of course.”
You snuggled in closer to him one more time before pulling away, wanting to walk through the park a bit more before it got dark. Your hand, wrapping in his, swung back and forth as your feet crunched on the leaves littering your path. You let out a whispered, “I love you too.”
--
You adjusted just slightly the heavy wig resting on your head, removing your hands slowly as to not mess anything up while stepping back, admiring yourself in the mirror.
The blonde wig, scattered with pastel flowers throughout the braid, hung down to your legs. As you turned this way and that, it swung through the air, brushing past the purple dress that went past your knees.
A sing-song voice came from the hallway, its comforting tone bringing a smile to your face. “Is my Rapunzel ready?”
Peter appeared in the doorway, crossing his arms as he leaned against its frame, his eyes never leaving you. His hair was swooped back, complementing the blue vest and tall boots he wore.
“As ready as she’ll ever be, Flynn Rider,” you said, giggling as he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around your back.
As he kissed your forehead, you let out a soft sigh. “Are you sure we’re allowed to do this?” you asked, your stomach turning in on itself.
Peter’s final item on the list, on a Halloween-themed notepad hung up on the fridge, read “Go trick-or-treating” in his scribbled handwriting. As you were both adults, a pit had been building inside you as the days got closer — would people even be okay with this? Would they just laugh at you?
“Say no to the prettiest person they’ve ever seen? No way,” he said, leaning in ever closer. “And if they do, a certain friendly neighbor may have to pay a visit. Add some cobwebs here and there…”
You pulled back, your jaw slightly ajar. “Peter!” You are not being very responsible with your great power.”
With a laugh, he said, “Come on!” and pulled you away from the mirror and toward the front door. He handed you a spare pillow case to hold all your candy (he said it was more authentic this way than buying a trick or treat bag from the store).
A deep breath filled your lungs as you stepped outside, Peter ushering you through like charming Flynn himself. The chilling air pricked at your throat, but as you walked past your flickering jack o’ lanterns with Peter right by your side, it didn’t feel all that cold anymore.
The night, illuminated by house lights and the last glimpses of the setting sun, was filled with running kids and their trailing parents going from house to house. An instant smile found its way on your face, loving the range from cowboys and dragons to home-made costumes to even a few Spider-Man suits.
Peter grabbed your hand, taking you to a side street that had a little bit less traffic, and they weren’t your direct neighbors seeing you trick-or-treating as an adult, which you were thankful for.
Walking up to the first house had your heart pounding in your throat all the way down to your feet. You were certain he could hear its frantic pace. Looking back, Peter was only a few steps behind you, motioning you to ring their doorbell. He gave a thumbs up and toothy smile fit for his costume.
You nodded, almost imperceptibly, as your fingers reached out, just barely pressing the doorbell. You heard it ring, muffled inside, and saw a moving figure obscured through the windows.
As the door opened, a middle-aged man appeared, a large pumpkin-themed bowl of candy in hand. His face, neutral for a moment, scanned the two of you before his eyes trained behind you.
Swallowing hard, your crackling voice said, “Trick or treat?” You held out the pillow case, fingernails picking at the stitching as you waited.
When his gaze returned to you, he had a warm smile and said, “Of course!” As he dropped some candy into your bag, he said, “And a few extra for the princess.” He gave you a few more pieces of candy before you said thank you, letting Peter get his fill.
The man shut the door as you two walked down the pathway back to the street, your pillow cases just a bit heavier now. Walking in step, he wrapped an arm around your waist. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
You leaned your head against him, letting out a quiet hum. “It was a bit scary at first, though I guess that’s what Halloween is all about,” you joked. “And we have candy now, so it was worth it.”
Peter let out a laugh and squeezed your hand before letting you ring the next house’s doorbell. Each house still made you chew on the inside of your cheek or fidget, but it got easier as the night went on and the moon rose higher.
Toward one of the remaining houses left in the neighborhood, you were greeted by an older woman. With squinting eyes and a bucket full of king-sized candy bars, she said, “Oh, aren’t you two so adorable!”
You turned back to look at Peter, wanting him next to you like a proper prince and princess, but you saw him holding his phone up. You read the large, typed-out words he was holding up on his phone, the text reading “First time trick or treating!” with an arrow pointing toward you.
You were certain his wide eyes matched your own, both of you too stunned at that moment to say anything. Only the weight of a few heavy pieces of candy landing inside your case brought your attention back to the woman. You gave a closed smile to her own grinning face, saying your thanks before letting Peter come forward.
As you two walked back to the street, you saw his raised shoulders and cringing face from the corner of your eye. He said, “Darling… Mon cher, love of my life, my Rapunzel…”
“Yes, Eugene Fitzherbert?” you replied, using his character’s real name. You weren’t upset with him, mostly shocked that he did this and didn’t tell you.
“I thought people would be a little nicer if they knew it was your first time trick-or-treating, ‘s’all.” He adjusted his costume this way and that, letting out a sharp breath.
You snorted out a small laugh. “I mean, it’s not really my first time. I went with friends a few times, but I was pretty young,” you explained, your words coming out rambling.
“Well I can’t really write all that on my phone, now can I?” He said, hints of sarcasm and joking laced in his voice.
Laughing, you said, “I guess not. You’re a bit sassy, but thank you, Peter.” His smug grin turned soft and grabbed your hand.
His pace quickened as you approached home, his boyish giggling ringing into the night. Opening the door, he pulled you inside and sat you both down in the living room. Your heart felt happy at his excitement, and you weren’t sure anymore who this was for.
“Ready?” he asked, his eyes raised expectantly at you.
You took off the heavy wig and nodded furiously, holding your heavy pillow case high up. As he said, “Go!” you tipped it over and watched a heaving pile of candy build in front of you.
Peter began organizing all of them, putting Snickers here, Skittles there, so you did the same, feeling a childish fun fill you.
“Ready to trade?” he asked, still looking around at the different stacks.
You’d never traded candy so seriously before, but he looked determined as he asked. “Uh, sure?”
Grabbing a handful of candy, Peter said, “Okay, how about two Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups for two of your Kit Kat’s?”
Taken aback, you put a hand to your chest. “I might be a little inexperienced in all this, but I am not clueless. Those are full-sized Kit Kat’s — you’re getting one for two Reese’s cups.”
Peter pursed his lips, eyebrows scrunching together. As he looked around, he said, “Okay Rapunzel. You drive a hard bargain. I’ll throw in a pack of M&M’s too.”
You pretended to think for a bit, resting your finger against your chin. Only when you saw his unamused look did you give in, not that you were too worried. You’d be mixing candy together by tomorrow anyway. “Fine, you have a deal.”
His face broke out in excitement, his hands quickly coming forward across the piles to make the exchange. You went back and forth like this for a bit before you couldn’t stare any longer and dug into your treasure of candy.
It wasn’t until halfway through Hocus Pocus, the two of you in pajamas and surrounded by discarded candy wrappers, that you turned to look up at Peter, your head laying on his chest, and whispered, “Thank you, for everything.”
He looked at you, his eyes soft and smile gentle as the now forgotten movie cast dancing shadows across his face. “Yeah, ‘course,” he said, never taking his gaze off of you. “I just remember my parents taking me around, and then May and Ben. They always made sure I got to experience what all the other kids did, and I loved it, so I thought someone should do that for you too.”
You nodded along, unable to stop the way the corners of your eyes stung at his words. You already couldn’t wait for next year, having no doubt it’d make you just as happy as this Halloween. Leaning into him even more, you gave a tight-lipped smile, unable to keep the emotion from your voice. “They definitely taught you well, Peter.”
@reidslovely
Thank you again for reading! Please let me know your thoughts, questions, etc. Love you all <3
#Peter Parker#peter parker x reader#tasm peter parker#tasm peter parker x reader#autumn#fall#peter parker x fem!reader#the amazing spider man#peter parker fluff#peter parker oneshot#peter parker x you
115 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Same Type of Ghost- Chapter 2
Summary: Deep in the Infinite Realms, something writhed. And only Clockwork can help.
Word Count: 2308
Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2(here) -> Chapter 3
Also on AO3
Note: For @everystarstorm @modordracena @five-rivers @currentlylurking @aedelia
For Phic Phight 2023. Welcome to the second chapter! This chapter is from Clockwork's pov, which prove to be so hard to write. 😭 Used the two prompts below.
Clockwork is DEFINITELY not sick, stressed, tired, or overwhelmed. The idea of an incredibly powerful ghost with control over time itself experiencing anything like that is ridiculous! Everything is fine, and anything that implies otherwise is mere coincidence. Lurking | Lurking🕓🍁#5333 | Currentlylurking| currentlylurking | (Team Human)
Clockwork knew about Danielle of course, he knew everything. But knowing about her was not enough to prepare him for the full force of her puppy-eyes when she came to him asking for help. Aedelia | Aedelia#2626 | aedelia | neokid93 | neokid93 (team Ghost)
Clockwork is DEFINITELY not sick, stressed, tired, or overwhelmed. The idea of an incredibly powerful ghost with control over time itself experiencing anything like that is ridiculous! Everything is fine, and anything that implies otherwise is mere coincidence. Lurking | Lurking🕓🍁#5333 | Currentlylurking| currentlylurking | (Team Human)
In eternity past. Before the stars took their places, before the first plant opened its leaves to the sun, before the first human received the breath of time, there was Time.
The ectoplasm of the newborn Infinite Realms swirled, condescending. A form took shape, the vague impression of a human body, though indistinct, blending in with the surrounding atmosphere. For a moment, the first ghost hung in the air, present but unaware.
Then…. their consciousness awoke. And it screamed.
Too much… Infinite images filled their mind… their minds: one but many, many but one. Mountains eroding into dust. Stars exploding into Supernovas. Flowers, opening to the sun and wilting in the light. A chick, breaking out of its shell and a blink later, being eaten by a fox. A woman, screaming in pains of childbirth, then holding her son. A man, dancing with a little girl, and later weeping at her grave. The ticking of a clock.
The future reached back. Countless impressions of time and its meaning molded, imprinted on the very fabric of reality. The changing of the seasons. The cycle of the moon. The tides. The flow of a river, banks overflowing and flood receding. Birth and Life and Death. All these added.
Millennia of civilization, differing cultures. Tribes, villages, towns, cities, great metropolises. So many people, so many thoughts and experiences. Billions of mortal minds, each with their own conception of time.
An orderly procession. A cruel master. A caring father. A power hungry tyrant. Impersonal, passionless. A comforting hand.
Time was a circle. Time was a straight line. It was steady and dependable. It was variable and relative. It was methodical. It was chaotic. It was impartial. It was ruthless. It was compassionate.
Time was all these things and more. And yet…
It was too much. Too many images, too many thoughts. A prism of numerous factions, stacked on top of each other. It was too much for such a new ghost, for one so limited, so like the mortals and their thoughts which the being derived from.
And the power…. pause, rewind, fast-forward, reverse. Creation and destruction. Time, the power to control time itself. So much power, too much power in one so fragile.
It was too much. Too much for the small, humanoid form to contain. Time unraveled, definition ripping away. Growing larger. Expansive, stretching around the Realms. The power of Time lashed out, pained, distressed, confused.
Creation strained, trembling under the weight. Volcanoes erupted. Hurricane winds blew. Disease. Destruction. Death. The timestream shook, splintering with the pressure. Paradoxes sprung up, welling from the cracks. Dying in reverse. Individual people, towns, cities blinked out of existence. Civilizations lost and reborn in an instant. Entire species… extinct, always existed, and never evolved. All at once.
Existence groaned, cried, wept, all filled with suffering and chaos. On and On and On and On and….
The chiming of a bell tower. The ticking of a clock,
Instantly, Time paused. An image: gears and springs. The swinging of a pendulum. A grand clock tower. Somewhere in the mass of a body, an impression of a head tilted, curious.
More flashed but… slow and ordered. A tadpole, sprouting its legs. Wheat stalks, blown in the wind. Two children, playing in a creek. A man and a woman, sharing a tender kiss.
Time made a confused hum. They did not understand….
More images. Trees growing, reaching towards the sky. A mother cat, grooming her kitten. A father, lifting his son on his shoulders, the child reaching high enough to pick an apple. A mother, teaching her daughter to sew. A family, sitting in front of a fire and sharing stories.
A spark of understanding. Was this…. their purpose? A sense of rightness welled at the thought. Yes. Yes. This was why they came into existence. To guide life, to help it flourish.
The planet Earth, suspended in space. A blue and green dot, utterly unique in the big, grand universe. The masterpiece of creation. And this was why… this was why they came into existence, to serve the Earth and its life. Especially humankind.
And… a glimpse of Time’s future flashed in their understanding. Long years of service, repairing the damage they’d caused. Shadows of loneliness, an aching core.
But…. there, far off was love. They would love and be loved in return. The vague impression of laughter, hugs, goodnight kisses. There would be joy, centered around… a child with white-black hair, green-blue eyes.
Yes. Yes. An impression of eyes crinkled. This was a good future.
They would be a kind, compassionate, steady helper. Not without mischief and humor, of course. A knowing smile bloomed on the face, the ticking of a clock from deep within.
The expansive personification of Time condensed, growing smaller. Yes. They knew what they would be. The image of Father Time…. That felt right. They… no, He. Singular, not plural. Not the contradictory prism. Not the unstable conglomeration. But one, singular personality. Not all of Time but its instrument.
The form folded in on itself, down and down. Into the shape of a human male, the body of a grandfather (Ha! He already liked the pun there.) clock embedded in his chest.
He would be, he was Clockwork.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the present, Clockwork looked away from his time window, from the memories of his origin. He had seen and been so much back then, in those first moments of existence. So different from his current personage. Even now he did not know how, but he had been humbled, compressed into a much smaller, more manageable form. It could be constricting; after millennia, he could perceive and utilize the immensity of his greater consciousness much more readily than at his origin. But being often so limited did have its perks, such as greater ease interacting with mortals and near-mortals.
Speaking of…. With a thought, another time window opened, this one showing two young ghosts. A tall, scarred, muscular male and a much smaller, white-haired female. Ah, yes. Prometheus and Danielle, two of the young Daniel’s clone siblings.
The two children spoke, the girl’s hand on the boy’s arm as he cried. The younger’s eyes were drawn wide, words pleading. But it proved fruitless as her brother turned away, sobs increasing. He wobbly flew forward, throwing himself into…
“Curious.” Clockwork’s head tilted. The image in the glass blurred, the object of Prometheus’ interaction invisible to the time master’s sight. An irregularity in the timestream then. “Curious indeed.”
On the screen, the girl paused, staring after her sibling for a long moment before… “Time… ” determination settled on her face. “Clockwork…” The child hurried away. “We need Clockwork. He’ll… he’ll help.”
Again, the image closed, leaving the viewing room silent.
Clockwork gripped his staff, brow furrowed in consideration. The girl was on her way now, this being the first time she chose to seek him out. Never before had seen even occupied Daniel on a visit, but now… he’ll help. She sought his assistance, and regarding something unperceived by his sight.
Again, curiosity sparked at the thought. “Well, let her come then.” The ghost mussed, shifting into an old man as he opened the path to the lair. Danielle should have no trouble finding it now.
Sure enough, a knock sounded at his door, not twenty minutes later. “Clockwork!” Came her shout.
“I’m coming, I’m coming, child.” Clockwork hurried forward.
The Master of Time opened the door. The younger ghost flew through, nearly bowling him over, if not for his foresight.
The old ghost gave a chuckle. “You are in quite a hurry, aren't you?”
The teasing, normally so soothing to his other charge, had no such effect.
“I can’t believe I found this place so fast. This is the Clocktower, right?” She eyed him a little suspiciously, gaze fixing on the pendulum in his chest. “And you’re Clockwork?”
“I am.” The adult ghost gave her a disarming smile.
For a moment, the two ghosts studied each other. Clockwork felt the ticking for his core ease, something soft and fond. Floating here, with those green eyes and white hair, she really did look like her original. And the child from that long ago future-vision. Though she remained purely in her ghost form, unlike the black-and-white haired vision child. Perhaps a fusion of Daniel’s human and ghost form? That would explain the mixed features… and the presence of four arms.
Dismissing the thought, Clockwork cleared his thought. “How may I help you, dear?”
What a refreshing question to ask! And for once not knowing the issue… his core hummed in delight at the thought.
“Well…” The girl landed, awkwardly shifting foot to foot. “I was flying in the Zone by myself a few days ago when I saw this weird, horrible, scary thing. And I just knew I needed to figure out was up with it. So I asked Pro to come with me. And we found the things and…” She swallowed, paling. “It was awful. Screaming and crying and crawling around. Pro said…. He said it was a bunch of our brothers. They…. All ended up here but stuck together…
A hand covered her mouth, cheek green with nausea. “I… god. That’s why it looked familiar. It looked like that time Danny tried to duplicate but he couldn’t quite split so he just kept making more heads and feet and…” The girl leaned over, word trailing off.
The old ghost floated forward, a hand rubbing her back. “That sounds truly ghastly, Danielle.” He soothed, compassionate. “I am sorry to hear you encountered that.” He truly was. Such an amalgamation…. It echoed back the effects of his early madness. The poor thing… he really should speed its passage along to the Thereafter.
“Please.” Danielle’s quivering voice cut through the thought. “Please. You have to help them.”
Clockwork gently stroked her back. “I will. Rest assured…. I will hasten the creatures’ fading, quickly bringing an end to its pain.”
“What? No.” Jerkily, the girl looked up, eyes crinkled in confusion and then offense. “No. There has to be a way to… separate them or something.”
The ancient ghost shook his head. “I fear there is not.” In the past creatures like this, full of pain and contradiction, either hide away from the world, wallowing in their agony…
“Please. You have to… you have to try.” Danielle begged
…. Or they lashed out, becoming increasingly violent and destructive. There was no undoing the creation, only hastening the eventual end.
The words were too painful, too cruel to say to the girl, gazing up at him with hope.
“Please.” She repeated. “They’re in so much pain. Pro won’t…. He won’t leave them until he knows they’ll be okay. Please… please. You have to try.” The round, green eyes bore into his, shining with tears…..
The old ghost has no defense against them. “Very well.” Clockwork relented, his core ticking a sad beat. “I will do what I can.”
The words brought some light back to the child's countenance. “Okay. Thank you. Thank you!” She floated off the floor. “Let me take you to them.” She darted off. “Come on!”
Clockwork could have opened a portal but he flew after the girl.
Twenty minutes of flying and they arrived at the scene. The wails and screams came first, echoing across the Realms. Quickly, the writhing black and white mass filled the time master’s vision.
Clockwork froze, for once in a millennia surprised. This… this paled in comparison to Danielle’s brief description. This magnitude of suffering….
A sob rose, the creature harmonizing with itself. The old ghost shuddered; his core trembled with the feeling.
So much pain…. All these minds, pressed close together. The emotions feeding into each other and echoing. All those poor cores-
Wait.
The time master tilted his head, eyes wide. He sensed something in the creature. No, not multiple cores. But… one. One, singular core. Somehow, impossibly, there was only one. Perhaps one soul had cannibalized the others. Or-
“Please. You have to help them.” A deeper voice begged.
Clockwork turned at the sound. Ah, yes. “Prometheus.” The adult ghost offered a compassionate smile, a hand resting on his boy’s shoulder. “Yes. I will help them.”
The time master turned back to the conglomeration, brow furrowed in thought. Yes, perhaps, one soul, stronger than the others, had communed the rest, only to be overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions. Or this was not a true ghost but an imprint of dozens of emotions and memories. Or perhaps… this was something all together new.
“Yes,” Clockwork rubbed his chin. “I will take them back to my lair.”
Slowly, the ancient ghost approached, hands outstretched. “Shh, child.”
The creature… no, the child, for somehow, this was a child, despite the monstrous appearance… continued to cry, deaf to the comfort.
“Shh…” Clockwork reached, fingers grasping the approximation of a hand. “Father Time is here.”
One gentle touch from the Master of Time and existence warped.
The two beings appeared in the Clocktower, the room around expansive and empty.
The child whined, dozens of voices ringing in pain. So much pain. And Clockwork felt all of it. From every pore of the child’s being. In every cry, every pulse of the core, every second. His own core inside of his chest chimed with the need to help, to comfort. And as he promised, he would. He could help, in a way no other creature in existence could. Afterall….
With the Time Master’s core so close to the child’s, he could feel it, the similarities between himself and the other. They were a true ghost, not an imprint, nor a simple cannibal soul. No, they were a prism of numerous factions, stacked on top of each other.
Clockwork could help as no one else could. After all, they were the same type of ghost.
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
"General, This Ain't A Cat"
-> Masterlist || → Taglist
Pairing: Jing Yuan x (gn!) Reader
Summary: One day you find a cute white lion cub scratching on your front door, little did you know that the actual owner of it was Jing Yuan, the General of the Xianzhou Luofu himself. And he might have the wrong idea about the little thing, too...
Tags: Fluff, Crack, Jing Yuan's Lion loves you, inspired by the General's Diary you can find in HSR, flustered Jing Yuan
A/N: I love him a very normal amount, your honor! The fact he is a cat dad too is just too cute! And also that he got scammed trying to buy a cat and instead unknowingly managed to buy a lion makes it so much funnier. I can only recommend reading his diary ingame lmao
A distinct scratching sound on the front door of your home made you perk up in your seat. You waited for the sound to reappear a couple of times before deciding to check what was causing it.
You slowly opened the door and looked outside. But both to the right and to the left you spotted nothing that could’ve caused the sound. It was also relatively windstill on the Luofu today so that also couldn’t have been it.
Just as you were about to close the door again you spotted the culprit behind the flower pot right next to your door. It was a small, snow-white lion cub, not older than a couple of months at best, and it looked at you pleadingly with its azure-colored eyes.
Did it want to come in?
You knelt down on your doorstep and stretched your hand out towards it, prompting it to come over to you. It hesitantly tiptoed in your direction from behind the flower pot, carefully smelling on your fingers first before bumping its head into your hand. You began scratching its head and not too long after a loud purr could be heard.
It was such a cute little thing you were almost tempted to snatch it and keep it. But a beautiful animal like that had to belong to someone, right?
You picked the soft bundle of fur up and walked towards the main road to look around. Maybe it ran away and the owner was still around looking for it? They had to be since you never heard of any instances of strays on the Luofu.
A little bit further down the street, you spotted two Cloud Knights with a bag of treats in their hand. They were eagerly shaking them to make rattling sounds and simultaneously scanned the ground for something. Looks like they are the people the little cutie belonged to.
"Hey," you called out to them. "Are you looking for this snow lion perhaps?"
"Oh, thank the Heavens!" One of the guards exclaimed. "We've been looking for it the entire day already.”
One of the guards stretched out their arms to take the little lion cub into his arms but it made no fuss to go anywhere. In fact, it was clinging to you and started purring loudly, bumping its head into your chest.
“Hey, you little cutie. You have to get back home. I’m sure you’re hungry by now, aren’t you? Enough adventure for one day.” You said in a higher-pitched voice. Its eyes almost looked sad and it let out a squeak the moment you handed it back to the soldiers and waved them goodbye.
As soon as you were back home you couldn’t help but think about the little lion again. It was the first time you had ever seen one with such a majestic fur and eye color. Whoever it belonged to could surely count themself lucky.
A couple of days passed and you went about your days as normal until you heard the familiar scratching at your front door again.
Unlike the first time you immediately knew it must be the same lion from a few days prior. You went to open the door again and the white bundle of fur immediately zoomed inside of your home.
Alerted, you immediately began chasing it around your living room. As much as you wanted to actually keep it as well, you absolutely couldn’t. Someone was waiting for it and probably worried about its disappearance once again. You for sure would turn the Luofu upside down if it was your missing pet.
Snatching the little complaining bundle of fur up again proved difficult as it was clinging and clawing at your carpet for dear life, but you eventually managed.
Carrying it outside once again you looked for Cloud Knights you could return it to again but this time a blonde teen boy, dressed in blue and no older than maybe fourteen was walking down the street with treats this time. And for some reason, he seemed oddly familiar.
“Mimi? Miiiii-Miiiii. Come get your treats!!” The blonde boy shouted and shook the treat box in his hands like a rattle.
The little lion cub, apparently named Mimi, perked its ears up in your arms and began trying to wriggle out of your grasp. You let it jump down and watched it zoom in the direction of the boy, sitting down and looking up at him with hungry and expectant eyes.
“There you are, you little troublemaker!” He says furrowing his brows and throwing Mimi a handful of treats.
Going off of the way the lion reacted to his voice you assumed it was probably his pet lion.
He picked it up and started petting it, eliciting it to close its eyes, start purring and relax in his arms. The boy smiled at it fondly and slightly shook his head in disbelief over the little rascal before looking down the street to where you were standing.
“Hey, you!” He shouted and started trotting in your direction. “Were you the one who found Mimi?”
You nodded in response before wondering how he could’ve figured that out considering he didn’t see you with Mimi at all.
“Wait how did you-?” You inquired with furrowed brows.
He just pointed at your chest, or more specifically, at your shirt in reply. Following the direction of his finger with your gaze you soon realized that you were entirely covered in white fluff from when you were holding Mimi.
“Ah. Well of course. That makes sense,” you chuckled. “Does it run away a lot?” You asked pointing at the still happily purring snow lion in the blonde boy’s arms.
He simply rolled his eyes and smiled in reply. “All the time.”
“Well, it seems to be fond of my front door as of late. I live just a bit further down the street. So chances are if it runs away again, it might be near my house again.”
“Good to know. Certainly makes things easier,” he nodded. “I’m Yanqing, by the way!”
That’s why he seemed so familiar. He is the lieutenant of the Luofu Cloud Knights and you had seen him here and there in an official capacity but you generally didn’t pay too much attention to those so you couldn’t quite put your finger on it earlier.
It certainly explained the beautiful and special-looking animal in his arms.
You grabbed the hand he held out to you and introduced yourself as well before bidding him farewell for now not too long after. Looking after him as he walked back home you smiled to yourself and hoped for him that he would be able to keep his little lion cub in check from now on.
A couple more days passed once more after that encounter until someone rang your doorbell. You weren’t expecting any visitors, especially not this late in the evening so you wondered who would possibly come over at this time of day.
Out of every possible person on the ship, however, you certainly didn’t expect the General of the Luofu in the flesh to be your late-night visitor. He was standing in front of your door with hands folded behind his back and staring down the street, waiting for your to open the door.
“Good evening, General… Can I help you with something?” You carefully inquired with some hesitancy in your voice.
You suddenly felt very small, and that was not only because he was a tall, handsome, and quite muscular man but also because you were more than just a bit intimidated.
Nothing to worry about, right? It was only the most important man on the entire ship standing in front of your house.
Naturally, your mind immediately came to the conclusion that you must’ve done something wrong.
“Uhm-,” he began, scratching the back of his neck. “Do you happen to know where my cat is?
Out of every possible thing he could’ve said, this was the last thing you expected.
“Your… cat?” You asked in disbelief. He simply nodded and looked around your front yard once more.
“It’s white with bright blue eyes. Yanqing has informed me that Mimi is quite fond of you and keeps escaping to your house.”
So it was his pet. But wait, didn’t he just say…
“Cat?”
“Yes. A small grimalkin, up to no good, constantly runs away. My cat.” He elaborated.
At that point, you couldn’t help but burst into laughter. He seemed very taken aback and confused by your outburst and you were almost inclined to say that it made him, this big hunk of a man, look like a huge, gentle teddy bear.
“Care to explain what is so funny?” He asked crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“Forgive me, General,” you wiped a tear out of the corner of your eyes. “I do not wish to burst your bubble here but your cat may not be what you think it is.”
“What are you implying?”
“It’s a lion, General. I can assure you, it’s most certainly not a cat.”
You observed how his eyes widened in surprise and a hint of pink began to dust his cheeks behind his long bangs. You had to bite your lip in order to not start laughing again. He really didn’t know. And the fact you made him aware of it seemed to be quite embarrassing to him.
“Oh. Uhm… well, I actually had my suspicions already.” He stated, once again scratching the back of his neck. You couldn’t help but wonder how a man like him could manage to look this cute when flustered. And to think this was the first face-to-face contact you had ever had with him made it all the better.
Without a doubt, he was an attractive man, and that was something everyone aboard the Luofu would agree to. However, after witnessing him in this flustered, and quite frankly, adorable state tonight, your desire to get to know him on a more personal level increased.
“What would it take for you to not tell anyone about this?” He suddenly inquired. But before you could answer, he made an offer himself. One you couldn’t possibly refuse after everything that transpired tonight.
“How does a dinner sound? My treat of course.”
“Hmm, very well. Or you could let your cat stay with me more often?”
“Well, that can also be arranged,” he chuckled with a playful smile. “But we come as a pair.”
Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.
#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr x reader#jing yuan x reader#hsr fluff#hsr fanfic#honkai star rail fanfic#honkai star rail x reader#hsr drabbles#hsr imagines#jing yuan#🍁 dust writes#🍁彡 hsr
7K notes
·
View notes
Note
hiiii lipgloss, lovely work as usual!! love all krauser mentions i’m on my hands and knees ( ՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞ ) if you ever write him in for any leon again just know i’ll be bouncing off the walls (,,>ࡇ<,,)
also!! i was racking my brains on what to do for you, and then i remembered there’s nothing more lipglossesque than being chased through the woods and getting fucked! mr corrupt cop i love you (◞◟）. . ♡
so, i had to try my hand at it! here’s a little snippet! ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*
ᯓ★
“Uh huh,” you pulled him from his thoughts as you nodded, arching your back and spreading your thighs as far as you could manage when you were still caught up in your clothes. It ignited something carnal in him, seeing you so well-behaved. “Want it too…”
Your pussy was a slick mess, pulling a breathless chuckle from him as he began to undo his belt, clinking in the quiet of the woods. “Thought you were a good girl, kid. Who gets this wet over the prospect of getting caught?”
Cheeks dusting pink, you quickly buried your face into your arms at his words. “N-Not just because of that. S’cause you, um, you know…”
Leon tried to follow your line of thought as he pulled his cock from his pants and leant over you again, lacing a hand into your hair to turn you to face him as his other guided his cock through your folds.
He felt like he’d been electrocuted when you whimpered at the lightest tug to your locks, an incredulous grin on his face as his tip bumped against your clit. “Fuck me, baby. You like being manhandled?”
ᯓ★
should get the chapter out soon! ˃̵ᴗ˂̵
; 🍁
🍁 anon, hiya!!! 👋
Aww thank you 🙈 I kinda want to write for Krauser but for now I’m still hung up on Leon 🤭 AHSKGL glad I have a type 😜
AHHHHH 👀 I love that little sneak peek!!! I can’t wait to read the whole thing!! 😩
Thank you so much 🥹 💜
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
22 and 23 for Canada or America or both? I adore your writing so much.
🥺🥺🥺 thank you!! I'll do both.
22: Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?
With a very low tolerance for boredom, America snatches the paper before Canada has a chance to react. His first instinct is to make a paper airplane and doodle some designs on it; an eagle on one wing, perhaps a catchphrase on the other, and a wreath of flames as an outline. Before letting it soar, he asks Canada if he wants to add something to the little plane. Canada draws a maple leaf and he paper airplane flies perfectly.
But I'd be wary of leaving America with nothing to do for too long. Now, Canada? Not a problem. He can easily slip into dreamland and imagine himself in a canoe, fishing for rainbow trout along freshwater, backcountry rivers for hours at an end. But America craves stimulation and if he's in a rather bad mood, he'll try playing Five Finger Filet with the pencil and his own hand. He's immortal and if he makes a mistake, it'll heal quickly anyways, right? Canada nags him as soon as he starts playing, and with enough passive aggressive fuss, America rolls his eyes and flips the pencil eraser-side down.
However, if America's in a good mood, and there's still nothing to do, he'll explain how worm holes work, by folding the paper in half and poking the pencil through it; a trademark method that appears in every Hollywood sci-fi film. Slightly forgetful, he doesn't realise that he's explained this to Canada many times before, but Canada doesn't interrupt. Instead, he offers up a few questions and lets his brother babble about the spacetime continuum until the sun goes down, not because it keeps America occupied, but because America loves the topic, and has a wonderful habit of turning anything he loves into something genuinely interesting through his own sheer excitement. Even when said topic involves a lot of heavy math.
23: How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?
I'd give them both a 5/10 when it comes to their organizational skills. Part of this is because they're physically younger than their Old World counterparts; college-aged nations with some college-aged habits. However, I think it's also woven into their personalities a bit.
⭐ America ⭐
Leaves empty soda bottles in his pickup truck
100+ tabs open in his internet browser
No sorting system to the catalogue of video games on his shelves
Bad habit of buying gadgets he won't use
Sports & Hollywood memorabilia cluttering the walls
Unpaid credit card bills
Low-priority government docs MUST be labeled, otherwise he'll lose them
"It's fine, I'll clean it later," and "I know where everything is," are his mantras. His mess doesn't bother him and it rarely impacts his daily life. However, if certain people are coming to visit, (senators, the President, certain nations that make him uncomfortable, etc.,) then America will definitely tidy up.
🍁 Canada 🍁
Often 5 - 20 minutes late to everything
Forgets to do his laundry; wears dirty blue jeans
Some fresh fruits and veggies go bad before he uses them
Cannot fit a car in his garage because it's filled with hiking gear and old woodworking tools
Too many canoes
Unless it's important, he forgets to respond to text messages
Spaces out during meetings, asks for notes, misplaces the notes
Unlike his brother, Canada's disorganization gives him anxiety and he chastises himself for it. He'll tidy up in a panic at the last minute when guests are on their way.* Then, he's the type to say, "Sorry, my place is a mess right now," even if he just finished cleaning and only forgot to dust one bookshelf. Truly, he should cut himself some slack once in a while.
*The only exception is America. If he's the guest, Canada won't panic-clean. He'll just sort a few things out and welcome his brother inside no matter the state of his house.
Excessively Detailed Headcanon Meme
#aph america#aph canada#hws america#hws canada#alfred f jones#matthew williams#hetalia headcanons#my writing#ask game#sorry that got a bit long#i also struggle with organization so it's easy to relate to these boys#my headcanons
63 notes
·
View notes
Note
i don't really have any specific prompts, but i did just watch top gun today for the first time and i want to say that if you wrote anything for ice i'd love to read it 😊 allergies or cold or even just a plain fic--i really like your writing!
DUDE IT'S SO GOOD. t/op g/un is on my mind all the time i cannot let go i'm obsessed. anyway. this is hopefully good? i really have no clue bUT. if you ever want general t/op g/un recs i'd be happy to talk and share stuff!! i'm really into the rarepairs (h/ollywolf my beloved) lol and i've rambled for too long. onto the fic!
(fill for 🍁 on the fall snz prompts list... written for i/ceman & s/lider. s/lice, babey!! ~1.1K words.)
Slider wakes up, and the other side of the bed is cold.
He rolls over sleepily to remain in his own body heat, staunchly avoiding the area of the bed that once contained his boyfriend, then fights against the comforter as it tangles around his legs. Propping himself up on his elbow, Slider uses his free hand to rub absently at his eyes as he calls, "Ice?"
"hkt'SHHu!"
Slider sighs to himself as he finally opens his eyes, groaning a bit as he's met with the light that streams in from the windows. Ice sneezing in the autumn is never a good sign; the only thing that really gets to him around this time of year is the leftover ragweed pollen from the summer and dust. "Bless you."
"Thangks," Ice breathes, sniffling. His voice is already laden with congestion, Slider notes, and he forces himself to sit up against the headboard, finally getting a good look at his boyfriend as he walks into the room, eyes red and puffy, even from a distance.
"Shit, honey," he blurts, surging forward to the foot of their bed. "What happened?"
Ice's breath hitches for a second before settling back to normal, and he rubs at his nose aggressively. "Ragked the leaves," he explains, and then every piece of the puzzle falls neatly into place.
"I could've done that," Slider protests, brow furrowing. Before he can even finish the sentence, though, Ice is shaking his head.
"You were stdill asleep," he argues, then gasps. "ukT'SHH!"
"Bless you. I still could've raked them, Ice, if you'd just woken me up. You're going to be all sneezy and miserable for the rest of the day." He slides out of the bed, moving to stand next to Ice in his T-shirt and boxers and thumbs at Ice's eyelashes to wipe away an allergic tear. "Your eyes are swelling."
Ice just sniffles, rubbing harshly at his nose again as he presses his lips together. "I kdnow. I jusdt wandted to help."
"Aw, honey," he murmurs sympathetically, rerouting his finger across Ice's cheekbone and towards his sinuses. His boyfriend learns into the contact, posture relaxing slightly when his thumb presses into the side of his nose. "Does that feel good?"
"Yeah," Ice sighs, and Slider starts rubbing in circles, massaging his sinuses gently. "Oh... hold on."
He draws back, twisting away from Slider and pressing his face deep into his shoulder. "kt'SCH! TSHH! h'kSHuu!"
"Bless you, Ice." He kisses him lightly, then goes back to rubbing at his sinuses. "I'm serious, let me do it next time."
"You were sleeping," he tries to argue, but the point is moot.
Slider sighs, then moves to pull Ice's shirt off. He's already covered in whatever shit the leaves have kicked up; there's really no harm in dismantling him so he can take a shower. All the same, it sends Ice's breaths into wild hitches once more, and Slider pauses with the shirt in his hands. "Going to sneeze again?"
"Noht yet..." Ice breathes, shaking his head as if it'll dislodge the tickle in his nose. "Keep goigg. I'll be fide."
"Alright," Slider murmurs, getting it over Ice's head and doing his best to avoid letting it touch more of his body then necessary. His chest is already starting to break out in a rash, just a bit, but it's enough that he's concerned. "Almost there," he soothes.
Ice nods, but ends up brushing his nose against the shirt fabric. Normally, he's not sensitive at all, but when he's already itchy and losing control and the shirt is covered in leaf bits?
It's more than enough to set him off again.
"h'uHD'TSH!" Slider can hear the attempt to stifle in that one, and the way Ice gives up midway through, clearly seeing that there's no point. "ut'SHHH! KSHH! KSHH! huh'SHH-TSHH!" Ice pants for a second, catching his breath, and yanks the shirt the rest of the way off, revealing just how irritated he is. God, his entire expression is still twisted with the need to sneeze, and Slider feels himself melt in sympathy as his breath hitches yet again.
"You're not done, are you," he murmurs, standing and taking the shirt away from Ice before forcing his boyfriend to lean into him, pressing his face gently into his shoulder. "It's alright, honey, I've got you. Just clear all that shit out from your system, okay?"
Ice only gasps and sneezes again, this time, directly into Slider's collarbone. The first one is muffled, but harsh enough that his entire body shakes with the force of it against Slider's. "hmp'TSH! ut'SCH! h'USHH'uh!"
"Bless you, honey," Slider says, pulling away and ignoring the damp spot on the shoulder of his sleep shirt. "Come on, let's start that shower for you." He tugs Ice toward the bathroom.
"I'mb sorry," Ice murmurs, a pink flush beginning to creep up his neck towards his cheeks. Slider only kisses him below his ear, right at the sharp hinge of his jaw, even as he says, "Thatd was gross."
Slider kisses him again, moving a little closer to his mouth. "Don't apologize," he says, "it's normal. And further proof that you should let me rake the yard next time, instead of trying to do it yourself."
Ice laughs a little at that, sniffling while Slider starts the shower. While it looks like he might be done, Slider knows it's only a temporary state; with the way his sneezes have progressed from singles to entire fits, Ice definitely has some left in him.
"Fide," he concedes, although begrudgingly. "You cand ragke the yard fromb now ond."
"Ice, I hate to say this, but I can hardly understand you. Get in the shower once it's ready," Slider says, grinning when his boyfriend only flips him the bird then strips out of his pants and boxers. "I want to take a look at those hives, too, once you're done."
"You're so demandigg," Ice teases, but obliges. Slider leaves to change into day clothes, grateful that they still have shore leave for another week before they head back out.
He can hear as Ice dissolves into another rapid fit while in the shower, this one far less merciful than the last as the steam wreaks relieving havoc on Ice's sinuses. He sighs to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. Leave it to his boyfriend to do something he knows will set off his allergies just to make Slider's day a tad easier.
God, what did he do to deserve him?
15 notes
·
View notes
Note
🍁 Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themself? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favourite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?
Ur dragon child
Soft OC asks
Actually, I have a bit of RP writing for this…
The place looked like it had been initially planned as a balcony, but for whatever reason was closed off, leaving behind an indentation in the building big enough to fit several people, with a view of the Temple district and the forest beyond the city’s borders.
Calling magic into his hand, Alastor took a few seconds to search for a familiar enchantment in the center of the balcony. Then he felt it – almost like a layer of invisible light fabric that sent faint ripples through the air at the magician’s touch. After finding the “edge” of the veil, he pulled it to the side, dispelling the illusion.
Before, the platform seemed empty aside from some dust and dry leaves stuck in the corners. Removing the magical veil revealed an almost lived-in spot. The stone “floor” beyond the illusion borders was covered with a faded maroon rug with frazzled edges. One corner hosted a large “nest” of colorful pillows, with a carefully folded blanket left in the middle. A small long crate covered with a piece of simple purple cloth served as a table or a low shelf littered with candles, crystals, rocks, and other various items, somewhat similarly to Alastor’s desk at the Palace.
“Isn’t it incredible? I figured out how to, mm, mold the spell, but honestly I still don’t know how it really works. It has something to do with this,” he pointed out a straight thin silvery line etched into the walls, floor and even ceiling, creating an even rectangle enclosing the magical veil, “but I don’t want to mess with it until I know more. But when I found it, the place looked abandoned, so… well, I kind of made it mine?”
He rubbed the back of his neck with a timid smile, feeling a bit nervous for some reason. “My little hiding spot, I-I suppose. For when I need a moment to myself, o-or just rest and read somewhere that’s not the same one bedroom, I guess.”
Before the amnesia accident, Alastor found a few secure spots on the rooftops of Vesuvia – alcoves, forgotten corners, platforms that are hard to access unless you're good at climbing or floating – and made some of them his "hiding spots", secured by enchantments he’d found on his quest for restoring draconic magical practices. After losing his memories, he still managed to find and uncover a couple of these spots, subconsciously being attracted to his old magic.
Pre-amnesia he’d have a few spots that he never showed to anyone, including Asra, but post-amnesia Al is significantly less secretive and will show these finds to his partner. Not like they can access them without him anyway, the spell responds to his energy specifically, so in a way it’s still his spots.
#and yeah he's showing it to Lucio here#who definitely didn't have an influx of Feelings over it no sir perish the thought#OC: Alastor#hhhhhh I miss roleplaying v_v
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
☆﹔Fairytale themed pronouns
﹐castle/castles/castleself﹒princess/princesses/princesself
﹐prince/princes/princeself﹒story/storys/storyself
﹐page/pages/pageself﹒word/words/wordself
﹐forest/forests/forestself﹒fairy/fairies/fairyself﹒faer/faers/faeself
﹐myth/myths/mythself﹒tale/tales/taleself﹒fable/fables/fableself
﹐tiara/tiaras/tiaraself﹒royalty/royaltys/royaltyself﹒tower/towers/towerself
﹐damsel/damsels/damselself﹒wand/wands/wandself﹒dragon/dragons/dragonself
﹐dwarf/dwarves/dwarfself﹒elf/elves/elfself﹒Knights/knightself
﹐Dark/darks/darkself﹒Astra/astras/astraself﹒Book/books/bookself
﹐Quill/quills/quillself﹒Ink/inks/inkself﹒Write/write(r)s/write(r)self
﹐Page/pages/pageself﹒Poet/poets/poetself﹒Poet(ry)/poetrys/poetryself
﹐Pen/pens/penself﹒Pen(cil)/pencils/pencilself﹒Study/studys/studyself
﹐Read/reads/readself﹒Word/words/wordself﹒Night/nights/nightself
﹐Star/stars/starself﹒Quiet/quiets/quietself﹒Soft/softs/softself
﹐tired/tireds/tiredself﹒📖/📖s/📖self﹒🖊/🖊s/🖊self
﹐tired/tireds/tiredself﹒☕️/☕️s/☕️self﹒⚰️/⚰️s/⚰️self
﹐🍁/🍁s/🍁self﹒🍂/🍂s/🍂self﹒💼/💼s/💼self
﹐📜/📜s/📜self﹒🕯/🕯s/🕯self﹒🕰/🕰s/🕰self
﹐🧳/🧳s/🧳self﹒🏰/🏰s/🏰self﹒🎠/🎠s/🎠self
﹐🪄/🪄’s/🪄self
︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢
☆﹔Fairy themed pronouns
﹐moss/mosses/mosself﹒shroom/shrooms/shroomself﹒bloom/blooms/bloomself
﹐dust/dusts/dusts/dustself﹒spring/springs/springself﹒dew/dews/dewself
﹐shine/shines/shineself﹒fay/fays/fayself﹒fae/faes/faeself
﹐elf/elves/elfself﹒flower/flowers/flowerself﹒honey/honeys/honeyself
﹐sprite/sprites/spriteself﹒fae/faen/faenself﹒aos/aes/aeself
﹐wing/wings/wingself﹒seelie/seelies/seelieself﹒unseelie/unseelies/unseelieself
﹐changeling/changelings/changelingself﹒iron/irons/ironself﹒charm/charms/charmself
﹐rowan/rowans/rowanself﹒magic(k)/magic(k)s/magic(k)self﹒spell/spells/spellself
﹐little/littles/littleself﹒hidden/hiddens/hiddenself﹒brownie/brownies/brownieself
﹐tree/trees/treeself﹒🧚/🧚’s/🧚self﹒🪴/🪴’s/🪴self﹒⚙️/⚙️’s/⚙️self
#fairycore#fairy aesthetic#fairy cottage#fairy pronouns#fairy tail#dark fairytale#fairytalecore#fairytale aesthetic#selfishness#neoprns#pronouns
1 note
·
View note
Last Seen Blogs
krimsu
krimsu aesthetics page
thebearnecessity91
TheBearNecessity91
mercyraph
How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily?
swervesbar
no guns, no swords, no briefcases
tonysuffering
TonySuffering