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#mhie's spirals
iceunhie · 8 months
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voicelines about you: as their lover !
featuring: imbibitor lunae, jing yuan, gepard. (+ jingliu and kafka)
notes: headcanons! some might be ooc HELP. i couldn't resist writing for hsr man… also jingliu and kafka sneak bc mmm i love morally questionable women 🤩. gn!reader. reader is not trailblazer. some fluff, some angst (?) kinda. reblogs are very much appreciated!
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Imbibitor Lunae (Danheng IL)
About [Name]: They're one of the few people who's never condemned me for Danfeng's sins, nor ever tried to get me to own up to them. Their presence is very comforting to me. My lover? *coughs* Y-yes, they are.
About [Name]: Selfies Aside from March, [Name] always seems to ask me to take photos with their camera. Hm? No, I don't really mind. If it makes them feel happy, then that's enough reason for me to agree.
About [Name]: Photo Albums [Name] made an Express photo album with March yesterday. Yeah, pictures of our adventures and memories, according to them. It's in the Data Bank, so just ask me if you want to take a look at it.
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Gepard Landau
About [Name]: [Name] is the most amazing individual I've met. Their determination and their will to pursue their goals to the fullest… I'm proud to call them my lover. Oh, ah… Was that too forward?
About [Name]: Lending a Hand Oftentimes, Serval asks [Name] to help her carry some things for her workshop. Although the times I get to personally help out are rare due to my duties, I still make it a point to support them by asking the Silvermane Guards to keep an eye out for them and help carry my sister's things for them if it's too heavy. Of course. They're always my top priority.
About Serval: Nagging Every time Serval stops by my post, it usually means [Name]'s run into some difficulties, which I try to help them out in. While her telling me about my lover's state is greatly appreciated, she always nags and teases me being a fool for them and… *sigh* No, it's alright, really. I'm thankful that my sister cares about [Name] and goes out of her way to talk to them for me. Still, I do hope her nagging would decrease next time.
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Jing Yuan
About [Name]: Hm? [Name]? Yes, they're indeed my lover. Hehe, now that you've brought them up, I should go look for them. I'm afraid I've grown so used to the feeling of laying my head on their lap that no other pillow can suffice. Ah, what a predicament…
About [Name]: Spending Time Together While I do enjoy dozing off, [Name] makes a point to let me rest at a more appropriate place, instead of at the Seat of The Divine Foresight, buried under a mountain of paperwork. Oftentimes, I do as they say, but when I'm not and just craving their presence… Heh, now that's another matter entirely.
(BONUS! - Yanqing's Voiceline) About [Name]: Oh, [Name]? They always give me some extra allowance for buying swords, buying me sweets and food I like… Of course I won't say no to that! Sometimes, them being with me when I'm being scolded by the General for my expenses helps a lot. Probably because they're the only one the General can't say no to.
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Jingliu
About [Name]: ….Do you really think you have the right to know about them? This is a warning. Try to ask again and perhaps you'll be faced with the end of my blade as my answer.
About [Name]: Soothed The whispers of the marastruck, succumbing to the Abundance… They are the only one able to calm the storm of my thoughts. For that, I am grateful for their patience and their kindness.
(BONUS 2! - Jing Yuan's Voiceline) About Name: While Master's current state is one of irreparable damage, at the very least… She has someone to hold onto while she grapples with the curse of mara. Even if I don't quite believe she's the Jingliu I knew from before, I know that her feelings for [Name] are sincere. I just hope she doesn't end up hurting them in the process.
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Kafka
About [Name]: Aha, now thats a question I didn't expect to hear from you. My lover? Yes, [Name] is that to me. I very much enjoy their love and affection, you know. Even if it isn't on the script, I'd still mention them. Quite romantic of me, no?
About [Name]: Trophy They always, always chide me about me ruining my velvet coats when we finish up a script. What's wrong with a little blood? I keep most of them as trophies. There's one I'm especially fond of, too. They think it's rather embarassing that I keep the coat from the time they got injured on the job. Although the stains have long since turnt black, there's still a faint scent of iron in it. Hm? What do I mean by that? Heh, let's just say I don't take any harm coming to [Name] lightly. While they call it a reminder of their lack of caution, I'd rather call it a little show of my affection~
About [Name]: Destiny's Course Elio refused to tell me about what my future with them would be, saying that the path in that choice is quite difficult to discern, and I think it's for the best. I suppose if [Name] decided to leave the Stellaron Hunters, hm, would locking them up till they can't leave me anymore suffice….? Haha, just kidding. I wouldn't let them leave in the first place.
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© 𝐌𝐇𝐈𝐈𝐄𝐄𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.
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benefits1986 · 6 months
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Short Selling & Steroids
I think I'm back to my sedated self, thankfully. Let's see.
Why do you short sell yourself a lot? I get asked this question too many times in all aspects of my life --work, personal, and even landi. So, here we go. Must be because of this buttery 70s PL which is my go-to sedative apart from liters (if not gallons) of sangria. My universe is never and will never be bound by validation. I live for invalidation. This dates back to mother dragon's ways but as I revisit this archaic bit, I'm coming clean like Taylor Swift.
In every test paper I bring home, she would look at my mistakes and tell me that I'm too careless because she knew that I knew the answer. Always. Later, when I commit and omit actions, she'd always tag me as a "matalinong gago" with so much graphic words sans the curses. That's how great she was with weaponizing words, tone, style and the works. She rarely hits me, but when she does, it's one for the books. Hence, I come off as someone with too idealistic standards and intimidating. I was born and raised this way, I guess.
When I became the captain of mother dragon's sinking ship in her quest to her final destination, I was left with this burden that while I know I know how to power through with grit, with intention and with my maldita na "matalinong gago" ways, I will be going home defeated. That's when I embraced the world of utter invalidation. That I am never enough just because I can't cheat death, ever. Labo, I know, but, I was 17 when this era started. I was clinging onto to the dearest life form in my universe... my mom.
I guess, that's also where my anhedonia is truly, madly, deeply rooted. I've been so used to losing that winning is but a consolation prize. I had to stop and breathe deeper breaths before keying the previous line. It's true blue blood right there. I don't like validation because all my efforts and results are but pale in comparison to what my harsh reality is... mom's death. I know that this is purely irrational, but in love, emotions overrides any "matalinong kagaguhan" anytime.
Compliments in any shape or form do not mean anything to me. Mom left me even when I fucking gave all that I can and all that I'm not in our battle. She gave up on us. She gave up on me. So, sino pa bang hindi mangiiwan sa akin kahit na I burn myself to ground? Sino pa ba? Wala na. Walang forever. Fuck forever. Forever's but a social construct that even De Beers is milking the shit out of every giddy girl getting a ring on it. LOL. G na g, mhie? Talaga ba?
There are countless time when mom told me to step on the breaks since masyado kong sineseryoso 'yung routines, doc visits and after-care niya. Wala pang palliative care noon lalo sa Pinas at sa public hospitals. Ilang beses niya sinabi sa akin, anak, na-train nga kita kaso sumobra naman yata. I remember so many times na deep inside I was crying, but I told her na, sabi niya, the true test of a good teacher is when the student beats the shit out of the educator. Mom smirks with tiny tears at times. Alam ko naman I'm tough love on her, pero 'di power trip 'yun. Ego and empathy lang talaga. Kasi, 'pag sumuko ako, wala na e. She was no longer my strong, independent, OC mom. She was no longer undefeated. She was no longer my fortress. She is my liability, my only asset who's depreciating pretty quickly. She is my universe. HUY. Hahahahaha. Mommy's girl talaga ako.
However, I'm here and now. A few days back, I keep hearing steroids as meds. UGH. I discovered that it's my trigger. Mom had to take steroids to pump up her system. And yes, the side effects eventually kicked in and that is where things get fucked up. While steroids definitely helped prolong her life, iba e. Her totality was altered. HUY. Naiiyak na naman ako. Hindi tayo mag-spiral this Scorpio szn. Maraming labada at iwas-sunog ganaps.
Steroids are reminders that while I get triggers, I can hopefully turn this shit into a glimmer. UGH. I have to face the fact that steroids helped mom get by. And that, these designer and well-marketed drugs allowed her to power through even when was running on 5 to 10 kph; instead of her usual 160-180 kph. And that, I have to face my red flag. Hindi naman madali, pero hindi imposible. AYWAW. May character arc development na ba talaga this dalisay kuno girly? Abangan.
And you know what steroids brought me and mom? Because she was gaining weight and looking plumper in a good way, when she was in her casket, she looked undeniably good. FUCK HER TALAGA. Alam mo 'yung look na I FOUGHT TOO MANY GOOD FIGHTS. KBYE na look. She looked too peaceful, too unbothered, too accomplished. HUY. 'Wag nating pabagsakin ang luha na mala somatic yoga session. HAHAHAHA. Nagsusulat lang akong dyslexic bitch for today's video. CHZ. I can hear mother dragon saying right now na 'yan, 'yan. Ganyan. Gamitin mo kagaguhan ng utak mo sa matalinong paraan. 'Di ka natatakot kahit kanino 'di ba? Keep up. Keep up. Eto na nga, ma. Eto na nga. Tumabi ka na naman sa akin sa WFH session ko na 'to. Alis. Smirking Taurus na naman po siya ihh.
PS: Double whammy talaga pagsulat ng thought farts. Kasi, iba ang AI content and content from the Bronx. :D LOL. Iba talaga. Hindi ako magaling. Mahilig at marunong lang as a dyslexic person na pati dyslexia hirap ako spell. It reminds me that I'm bulletproof. Aywaw. Validation szn na ba? Shemay. Kaya ko na ba 'tong mature role na 'to? Abangan! Toodles. Balik labada and iwas-sunog na tayo. :p NP: Killing Me Softly With His Song - Roberta Flack Langya ka talaga, ma. Hyfe ka. Makikita mo hinahanap mo. Sorry na agad, ang tagal ko mag-move forward. Bwiset ka kasi e. Pero, I know, I know, mas bwiset ako. Lofffyoooohoooo.
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iceunhie · 13 days
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“and i can go anywhere i want just not home” : genshin men
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premise. home is where the heart is—perhaps it's why they feel so empty whenever they're away from you. or, what it's like when they miss you while they're/you're away.
featuring: kazuha, lyney, wanderer, neuvillette.
notes: gn!reader (you/your pronouns), welcome to the depths of my drafts, you can tell where i got lazy and when i got motivated tbh 💀 an attempt at humor (i am unfunny) reblogs are appreciated! like usual, might make a part 2 idk
...alternative title: 3 twinks and a dragon
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NEUVILETTE: wait, why's it raining so hard?! 😱 “oh, it's just the monsieur sulking ^^”
neuvilette finds that one of the most inconvenient things granted in his power is the fact that his emotions can be broadcasted live over fontaine at any given moment.
subsequently, it's pouring; buckets of rain that clearly weren't on the daily weather report yesterday. he can see parents ushering children into their homes, the melusines providing umbrellas to those who had the unfortunate problem of not bringing one at the side.
all in all, fontaine is as is, but neuvilette feels even emptier than before.
it's probably because of you. it's definitely because of you. as fleeting as the rain on a summer day, you'd come and went, wishing him well before you'd leave for liyue for a short vacation.
2 weeks....
(the rain showers even more, heavily pouring over the nation.)
his shoulders tighten uncharacteristically, and if you were to see him, you'd tell him he'd resemble a sad fontainian otter with its seashell taken away.
. . . .
BONUS:
"i'm back- GAH! why are the streets flooded?!"
"oh, mx. [name]! welcome back! i'll tell monsieur neuvillette that you're back now!"
two hours later, the sun shines back again as if it hadn't poured consistently during the entire duration of 2 weeks. the people of fontaine rejoice.
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KAZUHA: like a bird longing for the sun to shine again (the most normal) 😭
kazuha isn't the type to brood. he isn't, because he knows he has nothing to brood about. well, most of the time, anyway.
this, however, is partly because you're usually with him, you in all your glory, nourishing him with affectionate kisses and letting him feel the breath of fresh air he desperately needs after a long, enduring trip on the crux.
the days you aren't there however are the days he finds himself most appreciative of his reclusive nature. as the rock of the ship against gentle waters make it sway, kazuha thinks of you.
you, you. were you at liyue, doing well as he hopes you always are, trudging away as you work wonders in the kitchen, preparing meals and watching day turn to night, waiting for time to pass, missing him too?
he hopes you are. (he feels like every time you're gone, a part of him can't erase the sense of homesickness. even if liyue wasn't his home, you are the closest to it.)
"you look a bit blue these days, kazuha. missing a certain someone?" a certain captain guffaws, to which the white haired vagrant can only smile to, though the smile betrays his rather dour mood. beidou's tease is only indicative of his longing.
he does miss you. a whole lot. he misses the way you run up to him as he finally steps off the crux's arms, embracing you with fervor and inhaling the cool scent of your hair. only then, kazuha thinks, he could really feel at home. "only a fool wouldn't miss the one they hold most dear to them."
beidou pats him on the back, sympathetic of his plight. he feels a bit embarrassed. beidou always saw through him. "gotta tough it out, kid. just a few more days and we'll be back to liyue in no time."
he wasn't a kid—beidou knows this, but she felt the need to emphasize so, what when kazuha looked akin to a kicked puppy waiting for its owner in the rain. "I'm well aware."
and so she's gone, warbling an old sailor's tune, leaving kazuha to deal with the ache of you behind.
he also misses a lot of things about you whenever you're gone. though temporary as his wanderlust may be, because he promised you—"i will always return to you"—this has brought him to associate everything he sees in your likeness.
is it the poet in him? perhaps. but loving you is as natural as him taking in the sights of nature, as lovely as the moonlit nights he spends, alone, and without you.
tough it out, as beidou says. that's difficult.
watching as the moon seems ever perpetual in the sky, kazuha only hopes he can tough it out well.
(when he comes back, he's thinking of running towards you this time.)
. . . .
"welcome back, kazu-" you don't even make it to the harbor's docks before you're being tackled and literally thrown off your feet. "what the fuck are you doing?!"
or should you say, swept off your feet? you feel every ounce of shame right now, and burying your head in the crook of kazuha's neck. profanity aside, it's hard not to be ashamed when almost every person with a pair of working eyes can see you being carried by your lover.
you can hear the playful whistles and cheers of the crux crew from behind, and beidou's knowing, knowing smile.
"i'm home." kazuha's breath is close to your nape, and you feel the soft press of his lips to your neck. you flush. face him, and you see his dreamy, lovesick eyes.
if he was looking like that, how could you be ashamed? you laugh, even if you see people side eye you into oblivion. brush your noses together, and close your eyes.
"welcome home, kazuha."
he smiles. the day is bright today.
BONUS:
"kazuha?"
"mm, what is it, love?"
"if you do that ever again i will literally drop dead on the floor from the shame, so don't make it a habit."
"haha, i wouldn't dream of it."
(one voyage later, you find out kazuha is a liar.)
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LYNEY: 😐 'insufferably insufferable,' given by lynette
if lynette could choose between smelling every perfume in emilie's shop (and put herself through an attack to her very delicate senses) and seeing her brother mope like a deflated balloon over his absence in fontaine, she'd pick the first option.
you are to blame. rather, maybe it's her brother's utter lack of propriety, proclaiming just how much he misses you with almost enough talk to make her want to rip her cat ears out.
or maybe she'd actually claw at him. lyney was just that infuriating. is this what they mean by love changes a person?
(if so, then lynette reckons her twin has changed for the worse.)
okay, she was exaggerating a bit, because she loved you very much and considered you family as well—but she would gladly dropkick lyney any time. they'd been stationed at poisson for a while, set by father. it was cleanup for the remnants of the prophecy, but it provided them sufficient time away from the court of fontaine, away from distractions.
and, in lyney's mind, it also means he's away from you. in lynette's opinion, he should've stayed. that way, she won't get to listen to him prattle on and on about—
"do you think [name] will still love me even if i've been away from them for far too long? ahh, and lynette, these rainbow flowers, do they need a bouquet matching their eyes instead?"
and of course, her brother being the drop-dead love-drunk fool he is (bless your heart for being able to tolerate her sappy and corny brother) has not. stopped. talking. about. you.
you'd probably accept a bouquet with a dead fish in it if it meant lyney gave it to you, but lynette doesn't voice it out. in a corner of her mind, she wonders if she should just actually become a clockwork meka so she could voluntarily tune herself to tune out lyney's voice.
she crosses her arms, putting her (4th) dessert aside. "they'll like anything you give them. and there's no way they'd get sick of you just because we're away for a week, lyney."
her brother sighs, dreamily looking away at the sky. probably thinking about the flutter of your eyelashes and your smile that makes a magician want to bottle it up and never let it show to anyone else—
blergh, she was beginning to let lyney get to her.
"a week is far too long for me." lyney sulks. lynette resists the urge to roll her eyes. you and me both, brother.
"what if they might be in danger somewhere I can't reach?"
but because she's such an amazing sister (factual), she lets go of her temporary reprieve and comforts her utterly hopeless (factual?) brother.
(for your sake too. because lyney has changed. though she may say it's for the worse, that's not true at all. in fact, it's the opposite.)
"relax, lyney." her tone is sincere this time, that in which always gets lyney to look up to her. they're children again, and lynette is facing her older brother, and they're hand in hand together. "[name] will be fine. as long as it's from the heart, you know that they will cherish anything you give them."
because it's you, someone that accepted them, every part of them. lynette doesnt show it much, but it's one of the reasons why she's so fond of you. she grateful, really, that you love her brother.
thankfully, (to her great relief) it seems the hint that you'd rather have him home without anything than not be home at all, has gotten through lyney's mind. he goes silent, and lynette takes it as a successful mission success. another lovesick crisis averted, her brother's relationship with you stabilized.
at last, peace.....
. . . .
"alright then!" lyney says enthusiastically, with an unhappy lynette and a sheepish freminet in tow.
"let's commence operation steal their heart the moment we finish this mission!"
"the what now?"
lynette facepalms. she shouldn't have said anything....
BONUS:
"uh, lynette, what's that?"
"headphones."
"why?"
"....noise cancellation."
freminet looks at lyney, who's pacing around the room, muttering to himself as his grip on the rainbow flower-marcotte bouquet tightens.
"oh." lynette nods at him wearily.
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WANDERER: warning! ⚠️do not approach, he bites (scowls) 😨
there are many times when wanderer wants to bash his hat and let it squash the traveller's flying companion, and today was one of those times.
"hey, hat guy! why are you looking even more scary than usual? your scowl can be seen from miles away!"
he can hear her irritatingly cheery voice in the distance, undoubtly exposing him to the eyes of others. damn it.
"paimon, shh...!" aether silently prays to whichever god may hear (hopefully nahida), because for someone so small, wanderer was emitting a very ominous aura not akin to an aura of death.
"quit your nonsense, you-" wanderer barks back, insult at the tip of his tongue, but he tempers his temper (heh), going quiet instead. "forget it. i don't want be pissed off even more from that disgustingly chatty pet of yours."
"what did you just say to me?! urgh, you, you- ugh, paimon can't think of an ugly nickname! help out here, traveller...!"
"i think you should just let it be this time, paimon..."
he ignores the chatter of the two—mortals—thumbing at his vision, and then tenderly at the little doll he's sewed in his likeness, as well as.... your doll.
(you gave it to him once as a keepsake, in exchange for him sewing you the mini him he painstakingly made. when you got your wish, you made the two dolls kiss, saying something so ridiculous as, "that's us now!" his face burned the entire way back home.)
instead, he finds his thoughts lingering to you. you'd seen him off, staying back at sumeru city with nahida as company, leaving him to escort the traveller and paimon to the desert to clear out some ancient ruins. how boring.
you kissed him breathless back there— much to his chagrin at seeing nahida's knowing smile; but he finds himself longing for your voice and your hands in his hair more than ever. at least then he'd be able to solve the ringing in his ears from paimon's voice.
he's long stopped denying his erratic, tumultuous feelings, but he misses you. unbearably, because at least you were better than the two he's forced to babysit accompany.
and he also misses how you would take shelter in his hat in the sweltering desert heat, kissing his cheek when he flew you around to explore the pyramids, and when you would hold his hand as you complained about how long you two would be walking up, all sand and sweaty.
(he'd tease you about leaving you for dead, but was always the first to worry whenever you get dizzy from heat. a walking contradiction, this one.)
"hey, wanderer, you there?"
"you're a little red. are you overheating?woah, so puppets really can do that.... ah, you're spacing out, too!"
ugh. "what am i, a tea kettle?" he scowls, crossing his arms.
he's already counting the days he can finally return to your arms.
paimon stomps her feet at the nonexistent ground, "we're just a tiny bit worried, you know!"
"yeah? well you should do me a favor and shut your mouth a little. otherwise you'll end up overheating from the amount of nonsensical words you spit out."
"this guy's a real piece of work, only being kind to [name], jeez..." to his glee, the pixie mutters angrily. something about being a meanie and insufferable. well deserved.
aether watches the exchange with the soul drained from his body. 800,000 mora, 800,000 mora.....
. . . .
"uh... wanderer?" you chuckle nervously, not knowing where to place your hands as he buries his face head-first into your chest the moment he's home, allowing you to gently caress the soft strands of his hair.
"..."
"so are you gonna talk about it, or?"
"just let me hold you, will you?" he bites, but there's no bite at all. you kiss the top of his head as his ginormous hat is taken off his head completely. he nuzzles deeper into you. "....i missed you."
that shut you up real quick. you try to hide the giddy smile you have, but he lifts his face up to see it anyway.
"i missed you too."
BONUS:
"[name], is that an insect bite on your neck?"
"huh?!"
aether squints at you, "what kind of insect leaves that big of a bite-" his eyes pop out. turns red. "oh."
you look away. one less pure soul in the world.... sorry, aether.
(in a corner of the house of daena, wanderer sneezes.)
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more hsr content soon, also for very important reasons: do you think sunday would let you bite the wings by his ears yes or no
© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.
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iceunhie · 4 months
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JEALOUSY IS A FICKLE THING...
ft. al-haitham, ayato, wriothesley, lyney
warnings : gender neutral, jealousy, mentions of suggestive content on wriothesley's part, established relationship, you are wriothesley's spouse. erm slight dark content but it's okay it isn't implied, we need more men like them in the world
mhie's notes : i used the wheel randomizer for this i hope everyone's proud i write for anyone other than scara ijbol
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al-haitham’s jealousy is muted; quiet and hardly noticeable, often non-existent unless you have the fortune of knowing him deeply enough (kaveh). make no mistake, al-haitham trusts you, he simply doesn’t trust those that make moves on you when he was clearly right there. when some bothersome person disrupts you both on a simple date, which is already a clear red warning sign, for the acting grand sage hardly has any time to spare; naturally, his reaction would be to put a complete stop to any and all the flirty remarks towards you with a flat tone.
it’s not the content of the words that make the person making a move on you leave, but the slight menacing edge to al-haitham’s voice, a sign that if they do intend to cross the line more than necessary, he won’t just be using his words.
most would back off after a simple talking-to, but in the case that person doesn’t cease their advance, you can best bet your lover is steering you away immediately. dendro archon forbid they touch you or make you uncomfortable in the slightest, though, or else al-haitham has no qualms contacting the matra or taking matters in his own hands, but this scenario hardly happens often, given his seamless ability to get to the heart of the conflict and uprooting it so that no problems arise.
he’d most likely opt to diffuse the situation by straight-up telling any admirer of yours that you were taken and most definitely not up for grabs.
“they are my lover. since you’re clearly crossing their preferred boundaries and seem ignorant of the fact, i’d advise you to stop making them feel any more uncomfortable.”
though it’s truly difficult to get al-haitham jealous due to the excellent control of his emotions, tempered by his rational thinking, the most you can see of it is how he seems to stay closer to you than usual and the simple but firm link of your fingers as you both continue on your days.
(but if you notice him putting a subtle hand on your waist as you both walk, do try not to comment on it, will you?)
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for ayato… er, why have you even bothered? if one even has the nerve to flirt and court the yashiro commissioner’s own partner, then that’d make you either not inazuman, or simply an idiot. it’s no exaggeration, but a simple fact. ayato is by no means a jealous man, but he doesn’t like seeing those not worthy of you hover around you with such impure and unwelcome intentions, so he tells ayaka and thoma, but really, he just wants to call the shuumatsuban on any who dares to even look at you the wrong way.
he bides his time well, approaching your admirer with a genial smile and elegant composure and indulges in small talk, but there’s a chill in the air and the looming feeling of doom as well as his smile that seems to see through any and all actions. its terrifying, really.
it also doesn’t help that he’d be extremely touchy in these moments, seeking to link arms with you and yes, even going as far as to rest his head on your shoulder, a clear indication of exactly how close you two really are. after you introduce him as your lover, at this point, it’s likely that the person making a move on you would back off and run away immediately, for how could they even dare to compete when it’s the yashiro commissioner himself who they’re facing?
he’d gloat silently afterwards in the comfort of his own quarters though, the sight of your admirer cowering like a dog getting cornered by a wolf, ah, truly satisfying. though thoma would eventually tell him to tone down the ‘borderline evil chuckling.’
“my love, have you been well? hm? the change of topic? ah, well, as the saying goes; ‘out of sight, out of mind,’ yes? no need to think about those that’ll only bother you. now, come here, there’s a new hotpot ingredient i’d like you to try… haha, relax, it isn’t dango this time.”
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another one with a terrifying reputation and terrifying influence to make even the most daring of your admirers quake in their boots. wriothesley is amused - he gets that there’s hardly any window for romance in such a dreary place like the fortress, but even going as far as to court the duke of meropide’s own spouse? really funny, honestly.
but after the initial wave of amusement, he does take this time to immediately show off his status as your husband, showing off the matching wedding rings and even having the well-deserved nerve to smile and continue on rambling about your marriage, which is clearly a very happy one, judging by the way he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek while maintaining clear eye contact towards the person.
you’d have to wrangle in your husband when you both sleep tonight though, because wriothesley has made it his personal mission for any and all those who wish to covet you to show them that you were his spouse, and no other held your heart or your affections. when morning rises the next day, you promptly leave with a very visible bruise on your neck, and an especially relaxed and happy duke at your heels. most would look away in embarrassment, including your admirers, so that’s that.
“hah, that'll show any of those who have way too much time on their hands to lay their hands off my spouse. what? too brutal? well, sweetheart, what did you expect?”
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oh my god lyney. haiz this enigmatic magician… magicians are all about masterfully weaving lies and illusions in order to perform to the top standard, and it's no surprise lyney also uses such methods when dealing with any and all annoyances in your relationship. he can be perfectly fine on the outside, but he has always been good with keeping his more sinister and less than socially acceptable side in check.
in fact, chances are he’d probably charm away your admirer with his own tricks; a wink their way and honeyed suave words to ease their love-struck heart and in seconds your admirer is up and away, promising to leave.
this often gets you disgruntled and in awe of his ‘performance,’ but lyney will always stave off your complaints or questions with a rainbow rose or some other fancy trick of his up his sleeve and guide you away, person courting you forgotten. all according to plan….
in all honesty, lyney isn't as composed about it as he seems. lynette can see it at a glance after you two have separated after the encounter. it shows in the way he broods silently for some time, preferring to divert the attention of such a sore subject away and going about endlessly about what new gifts he might give you or what seat was best for viewing, read: what seat was closest to him, for that matter. her brother was truly such a pain in the neck, and lynette does thank you for making him happy, but really, at this rate, you'd drive him insane by how much sway you hold over him.
“and just a trick of the light here and-! ta-da! a rainbow rose, symbolizing just how much i do adore you, way more than any other! …so don't try to pay attention to them, okay? after all, you've already caught this magician’s eye and heart~”
he can still be pouty and extremely clingy after the encounter though, which carries on whenever he performs any of his shows, where lyney always, always makes one of his acts feature you, be it a simple guess your card trick or his favorite, the one act where he leads you to land up on stage and give him a kiss based on the card’s instructions, it's all to show just how wrong anyone else other than him would make you as elated as lyney does.
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@ MHIIEEE 2023 : do not copy, repost or plagiarize my work.
btw can you tell i had fun writing for al-haitham despite the fact that i have never even been remotely interested in him in the entirety of the game
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iceunhie · 27 days
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HEART TO HEART — aventurine
premise ⁠☆ the five times aventurine bares his heart out to you, and the one time it works in his favor (or, in which aventurine says he loves you, in his own little ways.)
a/n ⁠☆ lovesick aventurine, i repeat super lovesick aventurine this is not half-assed, originally for @aventurne but then i decided it was for all but mei you will forever be known as the one who started this all ily, reblogs are appreciated. reader is the same reader from make a bet !!
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The first time Aventurine opened up to you, he thinks that you looked like what starlight could be in human form.
Granted, no starlight would be able to keep him on his toes this much, though.
He speaks your name like a victory falling upon his lips, a measured weight in its cadence. Aventurine relishes in the way you look alert, placing your attention on him (and him alone), sticking to his side like the faithful subordinate that you are.
He's come to learn that you don't exactly do friends—you are the very image of professionalism, never crossing the lines you shouldn't cross; and if he’s not careful, you could disappear at the slightest touch, just like starlight. (Would it kill you to stay just for him?)
“Have I ever told you that you look prettier when you smile?”
You pause from your game, looking up from the chessboard you and your co-worker, boss, and give him a look that one can truly only enjoy if they were either a masochist or someone who enjoyed another's disgust of them. “About 25 times now, Aventurine.”
“You've been counting? I didn't know you loved my praise that much.”
Sometimes he feels the urge to always compliment you—because this is the only way for you to keep your eyes on him, to only look at him, and Aventurine has always loved looking at your eyes. (If he kept looking, would he convey his heart to you?)
You scrunch up your face. Cute. “What?”
“Nothing.” Fondness bleeds from within him, the Kakavasha of old seeping into the cracks of his hollow shell. Aventurine plays gambles, risks death, yet this feeling of elation is something that triumphed in all of that.
He wonders if you notice; if you know that his honeyed words are genuine, as genuine as a liar like him can be. Aventurine wonders if you can tell that every poke and prod hides the underlying meaning of desperation—the words he can never bring himself to say because he thinks he's far too unworthy (for you). Still…
“I hope you know that it's true.” Just this once, he’ll let you see, just this once. “I mean it. You look prettier when you smile.”
Just this once, Aventurine thinks. He’ll bare his heart to you just this once. It's a gamble, a risk; a gamble he wants to risk.
And indeed, perhaps this is what Gaiathra’s blessing is for.
He sees you bristle like a cat, so wary—but he sees the flush coating your cheeks, reaching well up to the tips of your ears, and he knows he's won. Checkmate. “That's such a lame compliment.”
“How cold.”
(To love is such an unpredictable thing.)
Aventurine has only three words to describe himself: loser, liar, and murderer.
He can think of other words too, like useless, stupid, disgusting, unworthy… a plethora of ugly, demeaning, visceral words—how fitting for a person like him.
There's another, too. Greedy. He's greedy. Whether as Kakavasha or Aventurine, the hunger to consume all lingers fresh in his mind. It's a need that knows no end, embittering all he cherished, cherishes. Like an iron chain upon his neck. He's greedy for solace, freedom; death, and—
“Aventurine, are you okay?”
(You.)
How truly fortunate he is to behold your expression, when your concern is as slim as the chances of a collision of planets; when the expressive range of your emotions towards him range from either exasperation or irritation.
His smile feels rotten today, unbearably sweet. “Are you worried about me?”
“You…” the traces of care don't slip from your expression despite the annoyance that betrays your tone. “Be serious here—you haven't been sleeping, have you? What is it? Is Sir Diamond assigning you yet another impossible mission?”
“No.” He doesn't know what's more agonizing. Knowing you care (and always have cared) for him, or knowing that he's making you go through all this trouble just to care for him. He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. “It's just a minor upset, don't worry.”
He doesn't want to be indebted to you. Rather, he doesn't want you to see him; vulnerable, weak. Allowing you to freely enter his study as he's buried under piles of duty bound work just to come across one of the rare times where he's just Kakavasha—alone, and shouldering everything even if it kills him.
Worst of all, Aventurine feels that if you see him, you’ll find out just how ugly he truly is. And then—you’d leave. Like starlight, out of reach; never to be seen again. (Humans cannot survive without the light.)
“Then I'll get you something to eat at least, so you can-”
“No, wait.” He speaks your name like a plea, and you stay. Relief floods through his senses.
Aventurine thinks that perhaps because of the vulnerability he's exposed, you've even become softer. Because why else would you look like that, looking at him like he's worth something? “What is it, Aventurine?”
“Can you stay by my side?” There's a crack in his voice that he wishes to hide, but you don't mind anyway. “Just this once.” Please.
“...Okay.” He doesn't know if he wants to comprehend the meaning of your expression. “I'll stay. As- As much as you want.”
Aventurine thinks that his heart has already been consumed, his greediness becoming his downfall. Why is he just like a fool whenever he's with you? Do you know how dangerous this is, saying these words to him? At this rate…
They say that to covet what must not be coveted is one’s downfall, and Aventurine is no different. His eyes trail over your form, every inch of the stardust that make you. “Thank you. Really.”
Aventurine has only three words (and more) to describe him: liar, loser, and murderer.
“Don't thank me, Aventurine. Just—get some rest. I'll be there when you wake up.”
But now, watching you stay by his side; he supposes he can add another one to his list.
A fool. (a lover.)
Well, he’s been called worse.
Envy is a face Aventurine has long grown accustomed to seeing.
He saw it as Kakavasha; the look others give when they see his eyes, when they look at his profile. As Aventurine, he sees it in the eyes of space traders as they gaze upon his wealth, how the eyes of others fall onto him as he walks past.
But the fact that he also wears its mask is ironic, especially given the subject of his envy.
The third time Aventurine bared his heart out to you, it had been an accident. In his foolishness, Aventurine had slipped up.
He shouldn't be jealous, envious of those who get to help you with the IPC’s missions. It is the right, sensible thing to do; because you make him feel illogical, unable to comprehend in the haze of longing.
(Perhaps lovesickness isn't too far off a word.)
This is why you make him break free of his self-imposed apathy at seeing you off. Aventurine checks the file you'd be heading off to. Pier Point.
In a sense of uncharacteristic recklessness and perhaps brought upon by his longing; Aventurine ends up seeing you off.
“I'll get going now- Aventurine….?” your words falter when you watch as your co-worker strides toward you, terribly fast. “I thought you weren't coming to see me.”
“I can't have my dearest friend leave without seeing their handsome colleague’s face.” he says, like a liar. Small mercies to his ability to divert his inner feelings—and to not think about the fact that seeing you makes his heart throb in an ache no hunger can satiate.
You scoff, and thankfully you don't seem that irritated. If anything, you're in a good mood today. Even let him see the way your head tilts to bite back a smile. “How fortunate of me then.”
(He is.)
“Extremely.” he calls your name like a wager, seeking an answer. “How long are you going to be away this time?”
“Almost a month, maybe.”
“...I see.”
He's sulking, you can't help but laugh. Like a golden retriever. “Why so glum? Don't tell me you'd miss me.”
And for all his grace at maintaining his carefully crafted mask, Aventurine's whole world stops when he hears the sound. “How could anyone ever not miss you?”
You pause mid-laugh. Aventurine feels his face heat. He slipped up. Again, because of you. Because you always made him feel as though the universe could stop and end with you; and that this rotten hunger that gnawed at his bones might just be that he cared for you far too much for his own good.
…And now he felt like he wanted to fall back into a sandpit and hide there forever. “Is that what you think, Aventurine?”
(The way you say his name is so intoxicating.)
“Maybe.” He can't look at you right now, or else he'll imagine it—how could you ever feel the way he feels for you? When you were you and he was… him.
“Then come with me next time.” you look at him as though he'd break at any moment; tender. There's something else, too. “If you'd miss me that much.”
You flash him a cheeky, lovely smile, and Aventurine falls.
How unfair you are, capable of reducing him to bits; bringing him to your light and making his heart set off like fireworks in the night.
For now, he will be Aventurine—he could never resist such a tempting offer, not when its weight was far more valuable than any treasure of all. “It would be my pleasure.”
Aventurine has always thought that the space in his heart is empty because it was meant to be.
Because he is not worthy of feeling—he is a tool to be used; every part of him taken away and exploited away by others at their whim. In short, he is his best bargaining chip at any stability in his life.
“Aventurine, you’ll catch a cold if you keep forgetting to remove your coat.”
But you don't think that way, and it confuses him, to say the least. Like a shooting star, traces of your existence are specks in his life that have become far too important for him to let go.
Whether it be indulging in his whims of poker, allowing him to see the sight of your expressions in embarrassment and resignation, or the subtleties that have led him to believe (at least, he hopes to believe) that you do care.
And each time, Aventurine embeds your name into his heart even further.
Even now, as you hand him a towel and take his wet coat out of the way, Aventurine doesn't know if this is a blessing or a curse. You are always like this—overwhelmingly blinding, tethering himself to you without warning with your compassion. “I won't get sick.”
“Uh huh. And I'm Qlipoth the Preservation.” your eyebrows raise, and you take him inside. “I don't want to end up taking care of you if you will, so consider this a precautionary measure.”
“Seems I'm in luck, then.” He laughs, genuine. You're probably the only one to be able to bring out this part of him. “Such an angel you are.”
“Stop patronizing me and dry off already.”
“Alright alright, no need to get so fussy.” he throws up his hands in surrender, and he waits until you leave his quarters, strides measured as you give him privacy to change.
Aventurine wonders if you know just how much he loves you. Because he knows he does.
(He has already reached a conclusion.)
Perhaps the reason the space in his heart is empty was because you had been dictated to fit in it, and that Aventurine knows he’d never want you to leave.
Grief haunts Aventurine like a ghost, an old friend. Anguish whispers in Kakavasha’s ears and dictates its path to be his destiny.
But love comes in the form of Aventurine’s adoration for you.
“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to die?”
(Yes, he did. He has always wondered.) “No.”
“Why are you asking?” It is a mundane question, spoken atop the glamourous balcony as you and him look down at the glittering streetlights in Penacony below, watching the people of the dreamscape live the life their reality never brought them.
“No reason. Just… I wondered.” You hum, and Aventurine notes the miniscule shiver of your body, the lowering of your gaze; you're thinking about something again. (He wonders if you'd let him listen to what you want to say.) “What death might be like in this dreamscape.”
Instead, his silent question comes in the form of his coat draped around your back. There's no motion of rejection from you, which makes him feel nice—even if it's just for a while.
“Thank you.” You didn't need to thank him. Aventurine knows that he'd do anything for you anyway even if you don't ask a thing. Because he knows that no matter what, this game with his heart on the table shall always lose in favor of you.
“For what it's worth,” Aventurine says, the characteristic lilt of amusement in his voice gone, replaced with something authentic, “I wouldn't want you to die.”
Never. “I don't want you to die either.”
(If only you knew.)
“Hehe, I wouldn't go down without a fight.” he says, and Aventurine takes you in—the ways in which you gaze upon the scenery below, watching how you chuckle as you hear the loud countdown to the fireworks, the way your voice has always been the light, his adoration for you a stone to grab on in his gamble in life.
There's silence. Loving you is like loving the way the air fills your lungs as you breathe, because loving you was as natural as breathing in the sandy dunes of the place he once called home.
(Instead, you took its title for yourself.)
He speaks your name like it's the last thing he could ever do, and that through you, Kakavasha lived, and Kakavasha loved you.
And like always, it's there. Your attention, on him, as he always knows it will be (and as he always hopes it shall be.) as you gaze at him like he's the brightest star in the sky. “What is it?”
And when Aventurine finally bares his heart to you for the fifth time as the burst of fireworks ricochet across the skies, he hopes those three words will reach you.
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bonus: the time aventurine bares out his heart to you, and he gets rewarded.
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Aventurine’s hair has always reminded you of the color of gold. It is the color of the sunlight as it gently basks against your skin, the color of expensive champagne the man next to you so favors, and the color of the edges of his sunglasses.
(You've always been fond of yellow.)
"Aventurine?" you say, tone light, urging him to wake up. He's truly relentless, adamant on sulking as though his most valuable treasure would slip away from his grasp like you are right now because you were running late. "Can you let me get up now?”
“Good morning to you too.” purple eyes greet your form and an arm winds itself around your waist, pulling you even closer. “And unfortunately for you, I'm afraid I don't want to.”
“I'll be late. You know Jade hates tardiness-”
“-And I would be devastated to not have my lover by my side and leave me heartlessly.” Aventurine feigns, the falsity of his hurt not affecting you at all.
“You…” You frown at him, and Aventurine kisses the crease of your eyebrows of your face, enjoying the way your cheeks flush the like burn of alcohol down one’s throat. “You're so insufferable.”
“Mhm, whatever helps you let out that ire of yours.” he looks at you like he would the most precious of ores, the most valuable of cards—Aventurine looks at you unabashedly, wholly, in affection.
“Will you ever let me be on time?”
“Would you ever let me stop loving you?” he presses a kiss to your palm, tender as his hand traces circles on your palm. Aventurine already knows the answer.
“Really, you're just…” you sigh, but it's exasperatedly fond, and Aventurine’s heart skips a beat. He finds his answer when you press a chaste kiss upon the edge of his mouth. “So insufferable.”
Aventurine laughs, and the die is cast. “If I am, let's make a bet then.”
“Ugh, not another one of those.” you groan, but you make no notion to refuse anyway.
“Sway my heart enough to let you go.” he smirks, cunning as ever.
You roll your eyes, though it's nothing if not affectionate, determined glint shining in your eyes just like starlight.
“Deal.”
Recently, he's come to a conclusion; Aventurine thinks that if it's with you, no gamble is worthier than this.
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end notes im gonna kms i hate the ending like actually hate it this fic is the product of boundless hatred and the urge to never show it to the light ever but here i am
© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.
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iceunhie · 3 months
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˗ˏˋ ꒰ ⊹ unexpected development ! ꒱ ˎˊ˗
summary ⁠☆ you get transported into your favorite otome game’s world as a shitty side character with a raging death flag. you try to prevent your inevitable destruction... but it doesn't go according to plan as much as you'd hope.
notes ☆ of course it's another scaramouche fic except this time it's plot is manhwa inspired
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“This trashy game!” you curse, watching the pitch black GAME OVER screen linger in your phone. Happy music plays despite the current cg of your character at the hands of the tyrant character slash love interest Scaramouche. You sigh, tapping on the back button. “I was so close to completing his route… stupid, stupid game, ugh…”
Teyvat’s Seven Stars was a new otome game that you'd tried out for fun, bored out of your mind. The amazing art and soundtrack garnered your interest, not to mention the male leads were totally your type!
It had an array of tropes and spared no expense of flowery scenes and fanservicey excerpts that made you play despite its massive cashgrab feature. Heart fluttering near death scenes! Action packed romantic scenes with the main characters! It was consuming you and you loved it.
Even if the Scaramouche route was testing your patience.
You get that he was the most difficult to conquer out of all of them, but really, one! wrong! move! ….and an immediate gameover. Life sucks when he's your favorite character, and when your favorite character was notoriously known for having a horrid and difficult complete clear route that no one has completed yet, of course you needed to complete it, no matter what!
Damn it, now you've run out of love points to restart another run. Fuck you, system! Stupid trashy money grabbing game! You put down your phone, closing it. An immediate heavy weight settles on your shoulders, making you feel sleepy as you clutch your phone to bed.
Tomorrow… you'll complete his route for sure…
[ TEYVAT’S SEVEN STARS SYSTEM ACTIVATED! RUNNING GAME FILE NOW ]
Ah. You should've known what was coming.
[ CHARACTER FILE: [NAME] [LAST NAME] - CROWN PRINCE KUNIKUZUSHI’S BETROTHED! ]
What the fuck.
You think you've lost feeling in your jaw when the glare of the system shines bright, mocking you.
“[Name], you're awake!” You turn to the sound, and you face probably the most beautiful person you've ever seen. No, what the hell. You've seen him before.
Beautiful silky dark hair, glossy electric indigo eyes, a perpetual aura of ethereal lightness…. the game descriptions weren't lying after all. yes, you weren't dreaming. This was Scaramouche, or should you say at this point in time… Kunikuzushi?
He immediately clings to you. Oh. Oh. Well fuck. “I… uh.”
Scara- ahem, Kunikuzushi’s eyes are littered with tears and oh no you're a weak hearted person for your favorite character. “I'm so glad you're okay! I'm sorry, my mother- I mean, I'm so glad you're okay.”
The rest of the moments is a blur when your… fiance? betrothed? fills you in on what happened. Your mind is fuzzy and you can only piece together just a rough summary of what point in the game you're in.
So, you are currently three years early from the main story. Unfortunately, you are not either of the main protagonists Lumine or Aether. No, the system apparently hates you for being a hater and gave you the most egregious role.
A side character. A side character who barely even appears in the story, left to be trampled on by the story's plot. What's more, you're in the timeline wherein the current Kunikuzushi doesn't take the name Scaramouche because his Mother, the lone Queen Raiden Ei left him when he could not pass the Inazuma kingdom’s test to be worthy of the gnosis.
He took the name Scaramouche after being trained by the shady organization known as the Fatui, the main villainous force in the game and usurped his mother. In other words, a blackened tyrant character!
...And you were the betrothed his mother set for him - executed in the future because he didn't want any trace of Ei’s influence. Amazing.
The future Kunikuzushi would be an arrogant, tsundere and soft-for-only-one-person type of character, but now, he was like a gentle, tucked away from the world young prince.
Wait…. wasn’t he also gullible before?! Very cute, but it's no wonder he blackened so quickly with such a naive personality!
You, well, technically, the character [Name] [Last Name] ended up in this situation after they threatened to leave Kunikuzushi because he was far too fragile for their taste. A side character who’d contributed to Scaramouche’s blackening and paid for it with their life. That was who you were.
Okay, now you pity this boy a lot. He already had a traumatic childhood with Ei not giving him enough love and therefore a plethora of issues, and he'd even end up being a crazy tyrant who stopped at nothing to get the main protagonist in his grasp! For your death flag not to happen, you HAD to do something about that.
You had no choice.
To survive this horrendous fate, you came up with a plan. And that would be Plan give-kunikuzushi-all-the-love-in-the-word-before-he-meets-the-protagonist-and-turn-into-a-blackened-dark-tyrant!
Okay, lengthy plan, but to plan ahead is to be smart, so you can take care of the name later.
So far so good, this plan of yours. Plan get-kunikuzushi-to-turn-into-a-sparkly-prince character and not his blackened self was going well! (You gave up on thinking of a cool name) Thank god for cliche romance novels.
So far, you've increased your proximity to him, including him to spend time with you, showering him with bouts of affection and care. And so far, it's been paying off. The once secluded Prince has become so cute and so sweet!
You have to pat yourself on the back for this. You were doing the protagonist a huge favor that now they had a wonderful love interest in their sights for future reference.
Although, if there was one nitpick you had on your conduct, it would be the fact that Kunikuzushi didn't take kindly to others aside from you, and would even be panicked, utterly devastated if you even brought up the mere mention of leaving.
“Break… our engagement in the future?” if it weren't for him looking shell-shocked and deathly pale, the furrow on Kunikuzushi’s face would've been cute. “No! I don't want that! You aren't planning to leave me, are you?”
He gives you the most horrendous god kneeling look of a plea, and of course you drop the subject immediately.
“It was a joke, of course. I'd never want to break our engagement!” you hurriedly reassure, gently taking his hands in yours.
Kunikuzushi looks at you, all puppy eyes and pink cheeks. So cute. Who wouldn't want to stay by his side? You reassure him, “Whatever happens, I'll always stay by your side, okay?”
He looks at your intertwined hands with an unreadable expression on his face. “Do you promise?”
You nod. “I promise, Kuni.”
He nods, gripping your hands tighter, and his expression rivals a blazing sun, brimming with conviction as he pulls you in for a huge hug.
And of course, who wouldn't turn down an opportunity to hug their favorite character?
Surely this time, you’ll definitely escape the death flag and horrendous side character ending, right?!
You don't notice the shadow on Kuni’s face when the mere mention of being separated from you comes up.
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In the back of your mind, you wonder what would happen if your Kunikuzushi met the protagonist. Would he immediately fall for them? you wonder, and an uncharacteristic pang of discomfort tugs at your chest. Ah, what would it matter.
You smile at the gentle, pristine and kind Kunikuzushi that's currently excitedly telling you about how Ei praised his sword skills after he beat his younger sister. Even if the main protagonist would come here, you could keep this adorable Kunikuzushi for yourself for just a little longer.
You kiss his cheek, and he heats up. Yes, the future can wait for now.
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How the hell did it come to this?
“You told me you'd always stay by my side, right?” a hand slicked with blood is resting on the side of your face. Electric indigo eyes, these ones now having a ruthless glint to them, stare up at your own. “I've removed everything else that can take you away from me. Now, you have no reason to leave.”
By remove, he meant the man who'd decided to make a move on you after you went to the gardens for some fresh air. Hence the blood on his hands and sword, hence the reason why there's a dead body by your feet.
The once adorable and fair-faced Kunikuzushi still turned into Scaramouche after all, and you failed to prevent his blackening. He was truly, undoubtedly the same game Scaramouche.
But… Why was he acting like this? Wasn't this the exclusive feature only the protagonist should be experiencing?
He presses a kiss to your forehead, then the back of your palm. You blush.
Yes, he is now an extremely dangerous individual capable of executing anyone he deems appropriate to just for the sake of it, and yes, this same man is kneeling before you as you're just about to leave after the main storyline cg act just started. And yes, like the protagonist, you should stay far, far away from him.
But could you really? When he was pleading you with such an expression of longing and yearning? He takes your hand to caress it to the side of his face, eyes haughty and grin unsettling, gosh was he so… so attractive, like that.
“You won't leave, right?” Why was he so…. so sweet? Why was this scene structured as if you were the one he wanted to be with, not the protagonist? “You promised me, after all.”
….And why on earth did your heart leap out of your chest when he said he wanted you to stay?
(It was hard to pretend you didn't know why when the smile on your face said otherwise.)
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1.5k words, only the real ones know that ive been planning a cliche otome game au since day 1 I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENED TO ME WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS FIC 😭 might turn this into a series if people like this though <3
@ MHIIEEE : do not repost, copy or plagiarize or claim my content or work as your own.
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iceunhie · 4 months
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[6:21 PM.]
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you hate dr. ratio. you hate him; he's pompous, narcissistic, disagreeable, utterly intolerable. you can't tolerate him at all. out of the numerous possible reasons why you despise him though? its how he never fails to get you all up in a bind about him.
mhie's notes: i got l+ratio'ed by dr ratio insert laughing emoji anyways reader is so me (we're haters /silly)
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If someone would ask about who in the Intelligentsia Guild is the number one Dr. Veritas Ratio hater, chances are someone from said guild will promptly give them a shake of the head, a pat on the back, and direct them to none other than you.
The reason why?
"Well, isn't it obvious? He's an asshole!"
It's no secret to anyone in the Guild, actually, scratch that— to anyone in the universe that you absolutely despise the dark-haired genius that is Dr. Ratio. Loathsome man that he is, you've never enjoyed just how biting his words have been to fellow members of the Guild have been; would it kill him to be just a little more encouraging to them?
It doesn't help that he's horribly attractive, and he knows it. It's how most of the members in the Guild get tricked into entering one of his 52 lecture courses in his various academic programs at the premise of being able to be taught by his oh-so-radiantness, only to absolutely end up getting their self-esteem crushed into stardust. What's more, he can get away with it! Despite his notorious reputation for being a strict and short-tempered teacher, people still flock to him in droves. It's irritating, annoying.
"Did you think that this subject would be a mere place to ogle at me? That's the very picture of idiocy."
It's totally annoying to you because of that, and not because there's this sickening churn of discomfort in your stomach whenever a colleague of yours fangirls over him, no. You were most definitely just irritated because he was just that insufferable, and not because something about his well-kept hair and sharp eyes didn't draw you in like a moth to a flame, nope. Definitely not.
And you most definitely hated him solely for the fact that he was just a genius who prided himself above others, and not how he sometimes, rarely, once in a blue moon at that, lets his more amicable personality traits slip beneath the no-nonsense facade of his. How sometimes, he would often sigh at his students, voice still chiding, as he would reluctantly teach them another lesson. How he would smile, a genuine one, not like a sarcastic and lifeless smile of his - when his students would complete their task flawlessly and thank him profusely.
How sometimes, you can't help but be awed at how diligent and just how much he does want his students to succeed, as hard on them as he is. How he doesn't want them to go down the path of 'ignorance,' so he makes up for it by brutally scolding them and bringing them up from their slump. How no matter how challenging he may seem, he relishes in the pride he feels to be able to help others pass on and gain knowledge.
He's a complete enigma to you, and yet you can't help but feel drawn to him anyway.
So if someone would ask about who in the Intelligentsia Guild is the number one Dr. Veritas Ratio hater, ten times out of ten, that title would go to you.
Oh, you definitely hate him, alright. Definitely.
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iceunhie · 14 days
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[8:06 PM.]
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drabble inspired by the little crumb of balladeer we got from the arlecchino animated short because what the FUCK man he's literally my pookie the loml the /gunshot
a/n: can i please put him in my pocket i want to kiss him silly omg my babygirl
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"stop looking at me like that."
you don't. you just smile more instead, face practically hurting from your jubilee; and the reason, scaramouche's current attire.
he's dressed up, the rare sight of the oh-so prickly harbinger without his trusty hat, instead almost swallowed up by the fur of his coat's hood.
it's just so endearing that you can't help but kiss him senseless, earning an irritated (but not disagreeable) huff from him, before not-so-subtly pulling you closer to him by your waist when you mention how cold you're getting.
(yeah, he tolerates you—your ass; who was the clingy one here?)
the two of you look ridiculous covered by his gigantic coat, like two cats trying to seek warmth, but something tells you scaramouche doesn't mind at all.
though you're pretty sure you've burnt the sight deep into your retinas by now, you look at him even more just to be sure. "can i not admire my very, very handsome, and cute, and loveable, and amazing lover?"
he bristles up from the comment against your embrace, despite not being cold at all, a strange reaction given that the cold is biting at your face. his cheeks are red like the red around his eyes. "shut up. you should be ashamed of your shamelessness."
you press your mouth shut, or else he'd continue to (fruitlessly) berate you for your idiocy—you don't believe any of it, because this rare initiation of affection by your rarely affectionate harbinger is something reserved for your eyes only.
"don't want to though." you drawl, letting yourself relax against his firm, clumsy hold. scaramouche chases your warmth, withholds it within his grasp and never lets you go. "i should be proud of having such a wonderful lover, no? you look especially handsome today with that coat of yours."
"...i don't know why i put up with you." he snarks, but the gentle hold his hands take over your waist says otherwise.
not that you'd want to, of course. he was so ridiculously contradictory that you can't help but fall even harder for your cynically standoffish boyfriend.
"mhm. i love you too." he shuts his eyes when you fix at his hair to kiss his forehead, making sure to linger just a bit longer. you can hardly resist him, after all.
any normal person this close in the balladeer's line of contact, especially in such a vulnerable position would be annihilated immediately. luckily for you, your status as his one and only partner grants you benefits other people would never get to experience.
like now, as you're granted temporary immunity from the cold of his quarters near the zapolyarny palace, with your bodies sharing in each other's warmth, your boyfriend finding it completely normal and fine almost suffocating you with his tight hold over you in your shared embrace.
really, if he wanted to cuddle, he should've just asked. but since you know he wouldn't be caught dead whispering his desire for your attention out loud (you found that out early on when you woke up to him muttering murmurs of hushed, tender i love yous that still make your heart melt when you think about it when now), you suppose you can indulge him as you always do.
"i heard that today's the succession of the knave." you muse, to which he responds to with silence, to which you'd prefer his constant stream of insults towards the fatui's questionable title bestowments.
instead, all he gives you is a simple hum, opting to bury his face in your shoulder, and you can feel goosebumps raise from the feel of his hair and the fur of his coat. "it's just a ceremony with the jester and that irritating witch. and that captain."
you laugh. he really couldn't hold his tongue when signora was mentioned.
"well. why are you still here, then? should you get it over with before coming back?"
"..." he grumbles something about "being subjected to people he can't tolerate"—you're used to it by now, so you only lift your head and position yourself to put your chin above his head. "it'd be better if i'd stay with you beforehand. it'd save me the early irritation."
you laugh. when will he ever stop talking in riddles? before cradling his cheeks in your palms, pinching them just a bit, earning you a zap that's more warning than threatening. "sure, sure."
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end notes i went feral over this man thank u @morkanslily for listening to me scream about him for 15 mins straight in our dms
© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.
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iceunhie · 8 months
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🍢 𓂃 ࣪ MASTERLIST ┊ [९] 2024 © iceunhie
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꒰ ✧ ꒱ :: a collection of my works for easy viewing. tags for various fandoms is down at the tags so click on it if you want to see my works :D
STAND-ALONES
i. features 1 character, includes longfics n ficlets || ii. a blatant display of my favoritism over my faves || iii. ☆ <- popular reader faves!
make a bet (wc 1.6k) || heart to heart (wc 2.7k) — aventurine
amorousness (wc 1k) — lyney
10:37 AM (wc 1k) — neuvillette
not a chance (wc 700+) || unexpected development ! (wc 1-2k+) || breathtaking (wc 1k+) — scaramouche
6:21 PM (wc 300-500+) — dr. ratio
starstealer (wc 1k+) — xavier
christmas shopping (wc 1.3k) — kaveh
MULTIPLE CHARACTERS
i. features multiple characters || ii. headcanons and scenarios || iii. ☆ <- popular reader faves!
jealousy is a fickle thing — genshin
voicelines about you as their lover — star rail
voicelines about you as their lover part 2 — star rail
indirect kisses with them — genshin
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[९] property of iceunhie © all rights reserved. all characters are not mine, i do not take credit for written characters, only for my work.
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iceunhie · 1 month
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voicelines about you: as their lover ! (part 2)
featuring: sunday, aventurine, blade (+ black swan, acheron) [ part 1: dan heng, jing yuan, gepard, kafka, jingliu. ]
notes: well. the long awaited part 2 is here! (i took absolutely wayyy too long to finish this but a lovely anon requested the penacony cast so i just waited until now haha) stay tuned for either a future aventurine fic or a sunday fic tho; reblogs are appreciated! main masterlist.
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Sunday
About [Name]: Ah, you speak of my beloved. [Name] has managed to strike your interest as well? Heh, I'm joking. You aren't that type of person, no? ….But yes, my lover truly is quite stellar, if not incomparable. I doubt I'd find anyone in the universe as lovely as I do them.
About [Name]: Smitten Robin often jokes about how my eyes change whenever I see them. ‘Softens like the smitten man you are,’ she says. Well, my sister is hardly wrong about matters of the heart, and to be fair, her words are indeed correct. While I cannot be with them every second of the day, despite my only wish to do so…. I suppose this much is fine. At the very least, this bewitched version of myself shall ward any that dare take [Name] away from me.
About [Name]: Preparation. …My mansion has everything [Name] shall ever desire. As for I, what I only desire is them alone, and for them to be right by my side. When the time is right, what's mine shall also be theirs, and none shall ever separate the two of us again. Should anyone attempt it, well, there's a reason my mansion is built the way it is.
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Aventurine
About [Name]: [Name], [Name], [Name].... I see that you too have an eye for priceless treasures. Unfortunately for you, this particular one is already mine to behold. Mm, I wonder how my lover must be faring right now…. Missing them is truly, horribly debilitating.
About [Name]: Unworthy Whenever I think of [Name] being with me, of all people… Sometimes, the thought is unbearable. To think they would care for someone like me…. How truly lucky I am. Or maybe it's the other way around? Hehe, take a guess.
About Topaz: Contradictory Topaz and [Name] get along fairly well, despite her rather obvious dislike for me. Nonetheless, I suppose I can understand why. My lover is irresistibly charming~ Now, does this make me jealous, I wonder…. How about we bet on that?
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Blade
About [Name]: Though this sword may be battered and broken, if you harbor any intention of harm towards them, I will not hesitate to brandish this blade.
About [Name]: Mara Infliction When afflicted with mara, the senses are ravaged ceaselessly, muddying the mind—being unable to distinguish ally from foe. This is my path. And yet their face is clear, pure amidst the carnage, alleviating the haze for but a moment. My mind may be overridden with hatred, but I will never forget that feeling of salvation.
(BONUS: Kafka’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Truly A Shame Bladie’s little darling, hm? Definitely a wonder, that one, taming him so easily. Those two are definitely an interesting case, that's for sure. Scary, marastruck Blade and them…. truly a shame. Even I know just how the ending of that particular script will end.
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Acheron
About [Name]: …They are my lover, yes. Hm? Tell you more about them? Heh, I think you'd have better luck asking [Name] instead of me. I probably wouldn't even know where to begin.
About [Name]: Keeping Memories Despite the fact of my memories being in less than the best condition, [Name] always tells me about all the exciting things they've come across, whether it be delicious food from various planets, or even the most mundane things like the sound of the rushing water, the sight of fireflies in the night. They truly make everything worth remembering.
(BONUS: Black Swan’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Eye Of The Storm Ah, you speak of that Galaxy Ranger's companion…. The abyss that is her consciousness seems to only become calm in the face of them, akin to the eye of the storm. A shining light in the middle of nothingness—that is something that even she cannot let go of. No wonder Miss Acheron is quite taken with them.
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Black Swan
About [Name]: The memories of Memokeepers are sorted into various categories by their importance. As my lover, my memories of them hold the greatest value of all. Such memories…. even if the Remembrance wishes for me to hand them over, I doubt I will ever allow it.
About [Name]: Dancing My proficiency in the act of dancing is all thanks to my continued practice with [Name] on our shared time together. Fufu, ‘dates,’ if you will. Every moment I spend in their arms, swaying to the beat of the music at every turn… those are the memories I wish to forever retain.
About Acheron: Indebted One time, Miss Acheron managed to get lost in the middle of the Reverie Hotel’s halls... as usual. [Name] came across her then, and proceeded to have a lovely chat with her. I owe her a debt for keeping my lover company as I was preoccupied with some matters the Garden of Recollection entrusted to me to relay to the family. Next time, perhaps I should invite her over for some dinner with [Name]....
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end notes thanks for sticking around the part 2 (for the ogs who read pt 1) and do look forward to more HSR content in the future! also did i say i love aventurine
© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.
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iceunhie · 3 months
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indirect kiss moments !
summary: you drink from their cup on accident = the realization that you may or may not have shared an indirect kiss. how do they feel about that? too flustered beyond belief, it seems....
featuring: part one (here) - kazuha, wanderer | part two - albedo, neuvillette, alhaitham
notes: not exactly established relationship, crush crush hehe, fluffy, my two anemo faves in one post.... loud gasp effect in the background (pls don't perceive this as my betrayal to the other anemos they'll have their turn soon i promise 🫡)
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WANDERER — (in/ex)ternally flustered as fuck + has stopped working
wanderer doesn't think he has a heart, but the way the void in his chest thumps for but a flicker of a moment proves him quite wrong.
why, you ask? it's all because of you.
he resists the urge to snap, terribly so, but out of being flustered more than anything, not irritation. because there is absolutely no way for him to properly process these turn of events with even a hint of rationality. you seem to be promptly ignorant of the whirring of thoughts in his mechanical head. ignorant of his rather foolish situation of going irrational and borderline idiotic.
all because of a damn indirect kiss.
his eyes lift from where he's burning holes onto the cup you're holding—his cup, he corrects, and lingers embarrassingly long (too long) on your lips. he tries not to fight the way heat creeps up his skin, synthetic yet all too real (perhaps like his own, untouched feelings); he thinks he might be red in the face. horribly red, thinking that oh no, he’s faced with the egregious notion that he may be too (very) obvious with how his reaction to your simple action betrays his secret fondness for your existence. most troubling.
it's fine, he tries to rationalize, he's got to relax. it was but a sip of tea. tea he so carefully procured and offered with much reluctance that was more feigned than anything else. tea he only drank because he heard in passing about your preference for it, very, very sweet tea he wouldn't normally drink, he notes with faint distaste—the things he lets you get away with—
….and then you lick your lips to savor the taste.
if the traveler hadn't showed him a taste of an almost death, then he thinks this might just be how he falls.
[ spoiler alert: he ends up hastily getting up to leave after pouring you another refill, muttering curses that would certainly alarm the average civilian. fast as light; if only to hide the utter mess that was his face. red, breathless (even though he doesn't need to breathe) and disgustingly, horribly flustered.
you’d better do your best to calm his self-imposed brooding— he isn't going to tell you anything about what exactly made him fluster this much. best of luck. ]
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KAZUHA — flustered, but smiling like a lovesick fool (wants to write endless haikus about this)
kazuha is drunk, both in love and on the sake that burns his throat in a pleasant blend of sweet and strong.
it all started with your request to drink from his cup. you ordered a different drink from him while the crew of the crux were celebrating beidou’s birthday. even now, the sound of laughter and drunken slurring fills the night, a slow and, if he has to be frank, tone-deaf melody of a simple happy birthday echoing in the air. of course, being as drunk in love (beidou’s words) as he is, kazuha didn't even hesitate at all to give you a sip.
…and it just so happens that you managed to drink at the exact place he drank from earlier.
small mercies come in the form of playing off the intense blush of his face and chalking it up to the effects of the wine and sake. kazuha isn't one to be flustered easily, but he must admit this one elicited no light reaction from him, no matter how much he may downplay its impact.
perhaps it was delusional, but was there not a tradition about drinking from each other's cups like this that could symbolize marriage….?
oh dear, the alcohol was getting to him, and fast.
[ spoiler alert: the next day, when you wake up with a sore headache and an achy body and an extremely clingy kazuha, try not to be confused when he mentions something like kissing you in the haze of his sleep.
the following week will also make you subject to two things: 1) an increasingly clingy kazuha (see above), and 2) dozens upon dozens of haikus left at your home, along with silkflowers of innumerable count you’d think he'd plucked the entire lot of them. you never did know why kazuha had become even sweeter (was that even possible...?) all of a sudden. ]
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[९] 2024 © iceunhie :: do not copy or use my works.
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iceunhie · 3 months
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make a bet ! — aventurine.
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premise ⁠☆ you make a bet with aventurine, but it's a little strange when you keep winning against him. (spoiler alert: he's doing it on purpose)
includes ☆ shenanigans, banter (what else did u expect) possibly ooc aventurine, written before penacony's release, reader works under aventurine's department.
a/n ☆ dedicated to meisha @meidnightrain bc she has a severe case of aventurine simp syndrome, thank u for giving me motivation to write for hsr though haha, this one was a treat to write ! i think i got his personality pretty well (hopefully) reblogs are appreciated !
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“Shall we make a bet?”
Aventurine looks at you like he would a prized winning hand, purple eyes encased with barely concealed mischief, a gambler in a snazzy suit. Under his gaze, it seems as though fate itself would want to gamble with him. The odds are not in your favor today, especially with that glint in his eyes.
Fortunately for you (or is it the opposite? you can never tell), he seems inclined to bend it in your favor, as he always does.
The stack of cards are shuffled twice in your hands before you see fit to answer him, looking at the man across you. “What bet do you want us to make, exactly?”
“A simple one. We play three games of poker.” Aventurine relishes in the hitch in your breath for the catch he knows you're expecting. “And in exchange, if I lose as I predict, I want to be able to ask a favor from you.”
You eye him warily. “And what would that be?”
“For me to kiss you.”
You almost spill champagne over the cards. They say the most unexpected words come from the most transparent people, and Aventurine certainly proves that statement right. You'd gape at him shamelessly if you hadn't a sense of propriety.
“Aventurine.” you say in warning, eyes narrowed. Said man merely raises his own drink in response. “This is far from an ordinary bet already.”
“Exactly. Doesn't that make it more exciting?”
“Does it really have to be a kiss?”
“Oh, so you're considering it?”
“I am not!” you retort, but it’s hard to save even a sliver of integrity when you feel as if the burn of the champagne has reached your face, warming you like a brazier on a cold day. “What do I get in return?”
“If you win, then you get the same treatment. A favor for a favor.” Aventurine shrugs, as if the revelation was not shocking at all. He shoots you a coy grin. “A kiss if you're so inclined. I certainly won't be opposed to the matter, that's for sure.”
“You are frivolous.” translates to ‘are you seriously hitting on me right now?’
“And yet you indulge in my so-called frivolity anyway. Besides, you get to ask me a favor. It's too good of a deal, even for you.”
‘You always let me get closer to you anyway,’ is what goes unsaid. You hate that he's right. You hate that he noticed.
(You don't hate him though. Even if it would be so easy to.)
You absentmindedly run your hands through the smooth surface of the card deck, ruminating in your decision. You were not irrational. You know what you would get yourself into. But reason stands that owing one of the IPC’s most high-end individuals a favor was far too risky. Logic would tell you to fall back and do some self-reflection over attempting to partake in this foolish bet. (Your heart, however, reasons otherwise.)
You mentally prepare yourself for the answer you give, knowing you are sure to regret it. “Fine. But make it two games instead of three.”
Aventurine beams, so sincere and so overjoyed; you almost resent the fact that your heart gave a little traitorous thump. “I'll make it worth your while.”
“Aventurine.”
“Hm?”
“You're losing on purpose, aren't you?” The bastard has the gall to look confused, feigned as though it may be. He gives off the image of a golden retriever tilting its head —an endearing fact if not for the context at hand— acting as though you've slighted him personally. “Me? Why, whatever gave you that impression? I wouldn't do such a thing.”
You stare at the cards on the table. You've won twice. Both games. Under normal circumstances, that would've been impossible; you weren't exactly proficient in gambling as the blond, rather average in that aspect, but still, why is he making it painfully obvious he's making you win?
Does the prospect of kissing you really entice him that much? If so, then he's an idiot.
(You don't acknowledge the way your blood rushes to your ears in anticipation.)
The playful raise of his eyebrows melts to a softer one at your furrowed brows and wary gaze. It's truly a wonder, you are. You've been accompanying him with his affairs all this time and yet have not the faintest idea just how fond he is of you. Maybe you do, and you've decided to remain gracefully ignorant. He won't fault you if so; affiliations with him are bound to be complicated.
Before, he would've simply lived from your adorable reactions, but at his core, Aventurine is rather simple. Once he's seen the joys of reward, the barest glimpse of reciprocation, of course he chases the sensation. What use is his wealth and sense for an exhilarating game if not for this? You are the reason he's placed everything he has in the game he calls love— why he dares to lose, even when he never has. Even if it is he who bares his feelings first, as they say, higher risk, higher reward. And this reward in particular, is of the highest value. Of course it was.
He's pulled out of his dreamy stupor when you click your tongue, face on fire, biting the inside of your cheek. Aventurine resists the startling urge to pinch your cheek, but he waits for your decision.
“Just so you know, this is just a bet, alright?” you cross your arms, staring up at him warily. You're looking at anywhere but him. Aventurine thinks his heart might fly out of his chest by the way you look so endearing. “You lost, as you predicted.”
“I have.” he's long forgone the subtlety of his excitement, not when the prospect of being able to kiss you hangs over him like a man thrown a handful of gold. Who could resist treasures when handed to them on a silver platter?
There's silence, and then, perhaps the most satisfying thing, the reward he has chased for so, so long— “Get it over with, then.” you look so wonderful when flustered Aventurine almost lets his own feelings bubble up to the surface. You were no good for his health. He'd continue asking for more at this rate.
Even if he's across the table, he leans, unbearably close. So close you can feel how his breath fails him for but a moment, and how his eyes seem to glaze over. Lovesick. But he can't be. He couldn't possibly be. He is.
(How long were you going to deny this?)
“If you don't want to, then stop me.” Aventurine murmurs, sincerity in his words. What drives you to not refuse him like normal fails you, not when the way he looks at you so intently, so attentively, makes you feel weak. “May I?”
You shouldn't. You nod, voice breathless. “Go ahead.”
You close your eyes when he kisses you, and the fizziness of the champagne can't compare to the beat of your heart in your ears, thumping like crazy. It feels as though fireworks have set off in your chest and Aventurine pulls away, face flushed. You’ve never seen this look on him before, and you fear that if you see it again you'd never recover.
His gaze is as warm as the sun, even if you think that the sun can't compare to him in all of his entirety. You start to pull away from him a moment later when he takes your hand against his lips and mutters something incoherent against it you have to crane your neck to listen.
“Two.”
“What?”
“You won two games. That means another kiss. Or have you forgotten?” you almost laugh at the way he seems to act quite insufferably. There's a subtle pout on his face.
You smile, not bothering to fight back the way elation surges through your chest. Whatever came after this would change whatever you two would have right now, but that could be saved another day. You close the pesky distance this time.
“Sure.” you say, eyes crinkling at the sides and Aventurine has never fallen quite so hard again. “Say, what about another game?”
He catches on quick, violet eyes encased in amusement. “Oh?”
“Let's make a bet.”
“What would that be?” he's never been so giddy about anything else before.
You smirk. “This time, if I win, I get to kiss you. How's that sound?”
Over such an enticing offer, who was he to decline? Gambling with your heart on the line— there's a first for everything, he supposes.
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© 𝐌𝐇𝐈𝐈𝐄𝐄𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.
the entire process for this was purely kiss kiss fall in love and listening to break my heart by dua lipa on repeat btw
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iceunhie · 4 months
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breathtaking.
summary. wanderer is breathtaking and you make sure to tell him that, as much as you can.
m.notes. established relationship; soft scara cries can you tell I'm so fucking in love with him it's so not funny anymore how do i live laugh love in these conditions, the 2am thoughts held me hostage
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"you are so breathtaking."
you say, with all the fervor of a devotee, enamored. that's all you have to say to him, but wanderer feels as though you'd told him some world-shattering revelation with just a few words. there is a heavy silence in your shared home, but not for reasons you might think.
rumpled covers, silken sheets, soft skin against skin; you and the wanderer are entangled in one another's embrace, sharing the warmth as the morning sun dawns, purples and orange mixing into an enchanting blend of colors, watching as the sun rises in the horizon. it's peaceful, all you could ever want. the fact that he has allowed himself to be this vulnerable to you causes inexplicable affection you can't even begin to put words in to describe its depth.
there is no hat of his to shield his red cheeks, so he finds it suitable to hide his face in the crook of your neck. you play at the strands of hair at his nape, and gently trace the electro symbol he so greatly wishes to hide.
he bristles at the touch by instinct, years of betrayal in that mark's history showing like second skin, but he grips you tighter, a hand on your waist - feeling like glass that might break any moment as he calms down. the past does not haunt him any longer. not when you were there to soothe it all away. so he allows you to touch, to hold him like he's the world in your arms.
you caress his face, maneuvering him to look at you. he leans his face on your palm, nuzzling into it, close-eyed and at peace. serene. like a cat, you'd surmise later.
it's too much, he thinks. for you to have this much of an effect on him. for you to see such a vulnerable side of him. you're the unanswered wishes he's whispered in the wind; the tether he's longed for even before he knew you. it's all divine, your touch - you. wanderer doesn't think he should be deserving of it, but you seem to prove otherwise every single day.
"so beautiful." you coo, and his face heats in flames, hot under your touch. the non-existent void that is his heart aches unspoken. he welcomes it. "so lovely."
"don't say that." he stutters out, and damn it, he can feel it; the prickling feeling of tears on his face, and you find it suitable to press a kiss to his forehead, before brushing away the remnants of the droplets in his eyes. your kiss burns like a warm flame. "don't say it."
"why not? it's true." you muse, smiling at him. an angel he'd come to love, wanderer thinks. "i can't admire you?"
against his will, wanderer's lip trembles, lost for words. you take it as cue to brush a finger over it, then using both hands to hold his face in your palms. tender. soft.
you look at him as if he's the most fragile and precious thing you've held, and it leaves him starstruck, your look something he's ingrained in his memory since the moment you've bared it before him.
he doesn't need to breathe, but he does anyway; breathless at your proximity and just how much he's allowed himself to trust you, accept your care. it's the best decision he's made to date, it seems.
your faces are so close - and your eyes hold everything in them, iridescent twinkle in your eyes. he frowns. "you're exaggerating."
you hum, and you press your forehead to his. up close, wanderer can see the flutter of your lashes, every mark on your skin; every flaw, every imperfection. but he sees none of that, only you. in your entirety, it is you who is divine, not him. the air shared between you two is warm, and there's tenderness in your eyes that he's sure is being mirrored in his own gaze.
"i'm not. when have i ever lied to you?" wanderer scoffs at that, and yet the fondness in his indigo eyes leaves to touch your heart as he looks away for a moment, unable to bear the look you give him.
"you are." he argues, even when you both know it's not true. his face is coated in the color of fire corollas. you laugh, closing your eyes as you move your hands to intertwine them around his neck. he feels feverish, light-headed. "you're lying right now."
"mm, i wonder what would it take for you to believe me." your gaze is akin to those false stars in the sky, and unlike them, he'd be glad to stare at it all day, unwilling to tear his sight away then. incomparable. enchanting, because you are exactly that.
you can see him think over your words, your wanderer seemingly unhurried. there's still the remnants of pink coating his cheeks; you have a feeling that if you parted now, he'd only grip you closer.
"what would it take for me to believe you?" he repeats, and you can see it - the vulnerable him ebbing away, the normal, snarky countenance he so upholds returning. he grins at you, sharp yet still holding that vulnerable expression. playful, yet tender in the way you're only witness to. there's a hint of softness in it too, and the wanderer is lucent in your eyes. "i don't know. you tell me."
you sigh, dramatic enough that he raises a disbelieving brow. even when he looked at you like that, if he didn't outright say it, what was the point? "you're no fun."
but you indulge him anyway, bridging what little distance remains between you two. the kiss is nothing but sweet, despite his aversion for such things. your kiss is salvation; a steadfast reminder of your affection, and wanderer knows that you'd prove it over and over again if he doubted you. you always have, and always would.
and he'd let you.
"is that enough for you, kuni?" when you pull away, wanderer grips onto you, not wanting to part with your warming touch just yet. his blush reaches the tips of his ears, and the sight is adorable.
"n-not even close," he tries to say, but you know you've got to him. "you'd have to do better if you want me to believe you." he snarks, but its effect does little to deter your smile when he's looking a lot like a love-drunk fool right now. ah, so cute.
"i see." you say, shoulders sagging, a feigned expression of displeasure on your face. wanderer falters at your display, likely thinking he must've crossed you, that which he aims to placate. you hide your smile away from his view - he was truly so lovely.
"then..."
you cup his face in your hands again, and the wanderer lets you, though his face is getting redder by the minute. the smile you give him is mesmerizing, and he can't look away. he won't.
"i'd just do this-" a kiss to his forehead.
"again," then his temple.
"and again-" you shift to press your lips to the electro symbol at the back of his neck. "and again."
finally, you press a kiss to the side of his mouth. "until you're sure of it."
wanderer swallows, face burning, and you press your forehead against his once more. it's these soft moments known only to you that you cherish, unwilling to give it up, fiercely protective of it, and he may not admit it now, but you have a feeling wanderer feels the same. so for now, these tender moments is all for you to keep.
at your words, he falters, and kunikuzushi gives you a smile, and though faint, it's one that you'd swear to always keep close to your heart.
"i'll hold onto that, then."
(with time, he will return the sentiment wholeheartedly, unburdened by the shackles of his own doing. but now, you're content to hold him like this, and it's enough.)
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@ MHIIEEE : do not copy, repost, translate or claim my work as yours.
i need the yellow basket to get this man and keep him in my arms fr (the musings of a simp) was debating posting this on his bday but nvm
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iceunhie · 4 months
Text
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synopsis: Kaveh doesn’t really like Christmas shopping with you for one (1) reason: You have horrible taste in matching Christmas outfits. 
warnings: 1.1k words, slight mention of Cyno and Tighnari, small mention of Collei BC she's my daughter my baby fr, modern au!! bff kaveh has my heart honestly he'd be such a good friend yet u still have to tell him to take a breather on his issues like get this man some help pls judgy kaveh but he swears it's in good faith lol
mhie’s notes: participating in @2023gisecretsanta's secret santa event! this piece is for the wonderful @june-again <3 i hope you enjoy this fic and have a wonderful happy holidays !! took a little break from romantic writing since you said you preferred platonic heehee,,, i shuld really write for kaveh more he's so silly
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“No.”
You sigh, before plastering your best sopping wet cat expression. “Please, Kaveh? My wonderful, amazing, incredibly talented, bestest friend—”
“First of all, gross–” you stick out your tongue at him. “And second, [Name], I already told you this a million times and I'm going to say it again. I will not be caught dead in that… that abomination.” 
“C’mon, pleasee? It's just to take pictures with, I swear!” you say as you shove the red, abnormally large Christmas jacket to your best friend’s face, trying to at least get him to relent for just a few minutes. You do not succeed, and this only furthers the mortification in his eyes. This has been something Kaveh had been dreading for a long time already. 
It'd been a pretty okay day, his design for a new architecture project was approved and he was looking forward to excitedly sharing the news with you over a nice meal after work, only to be faced with the hell that is Christmas shopping near the Grand Bazaar in downtown Sumeru with Cyno and Tighnari, who are currently browsing through the rows of nice ‘make-your-own-plushie’ kits to give to Collei as a gift.
After you lot met up after your respective work and caught up by a delicious meal in a fancy restaurant (his wallet is screaming bloody murder right now though), the first stop he was immediately dragged to was a clothing store by you, and normally he would gladly pick outfits with you without complaint, but you were a huge fan of picking these tacky (sorry, but it's true) Christmas jackets that came in pairs to match with him. Best friend privileges, you say, but that absolutely clashes with his style. Like, he loves you, really, you're his friend and partner in crime and probably the only person he trusts more than Al-haitham, that bastard, anyway, but that (the sweater) is nothing but a fashion disaster waiting to unfold.
So he crosses his arms, Kaveh giving you a withering stare. “In the first place, why this sweater of all things? And that color?!” 
“It looks good on you! See, it even matches with your eyes! It's modern.”
“It's horrendous, that's what.” 
“Hey! You criticizing my style choices now?”
“Uh, duh? Why else are we friends? Why else am I your best friend, huh?” 
“Still, it's the holidays, so indulge me just this once, please?” 
“Excuse you, just this once? Last year was that green jacket that was too itchy for me to even wear! And the Christmas tree design in it wasn't even halfway finished!” 
“Hey! The Christmas tree print on it was still cute though, don't lie. And you wore it anyway.” you say dismissively, and you press against the sleeves of the jacket.
“Well, yeah, but–” Kaveh stops himself, before giving you an exasperated expression. “Wait, no, that isn't the point here! The point is, we should just look for better options!”
“Aww, but this one has a reindeer and elf print on this….” you sigh, disappointed. Kaveh eyes you with skepticism before turning to the aforementioned sweater. 
Okay, maybe it wasn't so bad… the reindeer print and the elves helping out the Santa Claus on the jacket front was kinda endearing… wait, no, don’t be swayed! 
“In any case,” he snips, putting a hand on his face and eyeing you distrustfully, “We can talk about that—” he gives the jacket a horrendous look of distaste, “later. For now we should just meet up with Cyno and Tighnari.” 
Before Kaveh can exit the store, however, you pull him back. “Nuh uh! Those two are going to take forever getting presents and you know it.” and just when he thought he dodged a bullet, you immediately give him the jacket, send him over to the fitting rooms and even have the mind to say ‘take your time!’ and then leave him be.
So, inside the fitting room, Kaveh can only try to struggle to find the utter appeal of the very, very questionably designed Christmas Jacket. There are two beings on his shoulder right now, the one with imaginary angel wings and of course, the one that's undoubtedly the devil.
‘Do it for [Name]! Please, this is exclusive best friend privilege and you're just going to throw it away? This is tradition!’ the nicer one says, endlessly using his moral compass as means for Kaveh to accept, and he almost does, really, but of course, with the angel comes the devil.
‘[Name] will understand if you don't wanna wear it! Besides, they've never had the best taste in fashion when it comes to Christmas jackets! Surely just one refusal won't hurt?’ 
“Okay, stop, stop!! I'm getting too into my head right now, I have to weigh the options….” Kaveh mentally chides himself and the little voices in his head, but ultimately comes up in a slump; on one hand, refusing you was fine, he knew that you would respect his decision, as you had always had. But… if he accepted just one night of humiliation, which will no doubt come in the form of Al-haitham and Cyno giving subtle and noticeable teasing when all of you gather around the local Lambad’s Tavern to celebrate Christmas Eve. Heck, even Collei would probably give him a look of pity! Kaveh hates it, really, but then again, it was just one night….
And you’d be disappointed! Also, what if instead of him who has to endure the matching Christmas jackets, what if you would match with someone else? No way, no way. Those were his best friend privileges and he was not forsaking them. Hmm, this was seriously a hard decision to make.
One day of humiliation versus the loss of potentially Kaveh’s and your Christmas tradition forever and likely the appearance of being a horrid friend– okay, he was overreacting here, but still! A horrid friend to you. Would he, in all his good conscience, really turn you down?
“Ooh, looking good there. I told you it wasn’t too bad!” you’re smiling and slightly smirking (no doubt you knew about his moral dilemma) at him when Kaveh comes out of the fitting room, donning the very oversized, very unfashionable jacket. “Oh my god, Al-haitham is never ever going to let you live this down.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” he grumbles, clearly swatting your phone away. “Can we just get it over with now? I swear I'm going to be so sweaty in this jacket. You’re lucky you have best friend perks.”
“Heh, don’t mention it! No one can resist my wonderful and amazing personality. Now, wear this too-!”
“Wait, hey! I never agreed to the Christmas hat-! Hey, [Name]!”
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@ MHIIEEE 2023 : do not copy, repost or plagiarize my work.
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iceunhie · 8 months
Text
amorousness.
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summary: lyney loves your reactions. but oftentimes ends up being rendered speechless by you. you're really no good for his heart, you know? (he's down bad.)
notes: lyney x GN!reader. established relationship. inspired by a brainrot by the lovely @marrijaydeboo !! golden retriever x black cat, detective!reader. lyney is a loser in love. seriously. first lyney drabble (?) don't come for me if he's kinda ooc...
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"I must say, Detective, I didn't know you were quite enamoured with me. You've been staring at me for quite a while."
Lilac eyes meet yours, playful and with the intent to seek a reaction. Any reaction. Whether it's the normally sheepish and curt deadpan and pointed stare, or the more rare reaction of a flush on your cheeks, the Great Magician Lyney prides himself as the sole captor and witness of such a side to his normally stoic and silent lover, you.
Well, not so much silent, but mostly reserved to a fault. It's no wonder you and Lynette are close. which he absolutely loves
Currently enjoying a leisure date (his words) after he pestered you on going with him (leaving a bunch of Rainbow Roses and Romaritime Flowers at your doorstep, silly little notes with cat patterns with a 'date countdown' on them, and popping up randomly in your office to steal quick kisses and elaborating about you leaving to spend time with him in typical Lyney fashion, complete with a wink and a disappearing act before you could even get mad at him for the disruption) saying that even Detectives and Sleuths like you need to let down their hair a bit.
And what better way to do it than to spend it with your lovely, horribly sappy (your words) and romantic boyfriend? So, after a few works at winning you over with his secret weapon (Lynette came at your door, giving you the most unimpressive stare and smirk, before telling you her brother was at his wits end trying to please you, waxing poetic about how you wound him by your rejections so you better go) here you both were, enjoying a tray of sweets and desserts, all your favorites, it seems, while partaking in casual conversation flirting with Lyney.
"Is there a reason for your gaze? Or perhaps you're just admiring little old me?"
"Naturally, Great Magician. After all, beautiful things should be admired, no?"
Ah. But there was also that. Your unpredictability. Typical [name], always keeping him on his toes. Lyney flushes deeply at your words, caught off-guard, a rare look of sheepishness similar to a thief caught in the act. caught in the act of being horribly smitten with you, maybe A pretty shade of pink adorns his cheeks. Pink is the color of the Rainbow Roses he lavishes you with; the color of his longing for you, and just one of the colors you get the privilege of seeing on him.
You only smile knowingly, as your lips curl to a smirk.
You really…. You really have him wrapped around your finger, huh? Lyney can only sigh and laugh, as his normally flirty and romantic self is just no match for you.
Not that he minds, of course. You're the only one who gets to assert such a sheepish and unimpressive reaction from him, part from Lynette, probably.
"Ah, how your words leave me speechless, my dear [name]! How you keep me in your grasp so firmly… Ah, there's nothing more fulfilling." You only look at him with a withering stare, which leaves the magician in a love-struck gaze, as you just roll your eyes at his quips.
For the Great Magician Lyney, your reactions are a work of wonder and magic itself. Seeing your normally diligent and aloof facade crumble when he teases you keeps him tightly wound around your finger. Really, Lyney is probably the only person who gets such a thrill of seeing your glares or your unamused looks. Well, that can't compare to your flustered face, or your smile, though. Or your kisses, or the way you look at him breathless after…
He flushes even a darker shade of red, if that was even possible, definitely caught up in his thoughts of you.
It's ironic, really. He says you were the enamored one, but he's the one who wishes to keep you to him till the very end, and wishes that every day with you stretches out longer… He could almost sigh. The things one does when in love…
"Any more words and that smile of yours won't be kept up any longer, Lyney." You huff, as you scarf down a Conch Madeline, before turning to ascertain some case papers he notes that have to deal with the recent serial disappearance cases.
Lyney pouts. You both were on a date, not some regular business day. He'd prefer it if your attention were just on him for today, at least. (or maybe everyday, he hopes. maybe for the rest of your lives. really, what you did to him was astonishing)
"Jeez, alright…. I was hoping you'd be less composed and just unwind yourself with me, you know? After all, I am your lover. And I'd personally prefer if you could shift your attention only at me for today…"
Lyney tries to look unfazed and tip the scales to make you feel flustered this time, but his words come out as a whine. Was he really that needy for your attention? (he was)
Now you blush. The heat creeps up to your cheeks in a flaming glow, as you just make a noise in your throat, words going incoherent. You compose yourself, as you just clear your throat as you look away and bury your expression in your cup of tea, closing your eyes since you couldn't bare to see his gaze, no doubt oozing with fondness and sweetness as the desserts laid out on the table right now. Maybe even more. (you put away your papers, thank goodness)
"You don't need to worry about that. Besides, you're the only person I'd ever want to put all my attention on willingly, anyway…"
"...."
A beat of silence passes. Two beats, three beats. Yeah, now you were both shutting down at your words.
Yeah, now Lyney's seriously considering trying to propose to you in his next show now. A volunteer act, maybe? Wait, you don't want on the spot performances that surprise you too much. Hm, a private show? Tempting. And the ring… Maybe a magenta ring? Or maybe a purple one to match his eyes…. All for you. All for what you both currently have right now. All for everything you're currently showing him. Your mirroring love-lorn gaze, the way your lips would envelop his own, just his. Although Lyney thought that proposing to you right now was still too early, well, if you keep this up…
"Lyney? What's gotten into you all of a sudde–"
Your words stop as you feel the pressure of his lips on your own. Lyney's kisses are sweet, warm, and playful. But oftentimes, it's meaningful and embodies so many unspoken words of adoration that his suave self could never compare to. When he pulls away but a moment later, he's back to his regular self. The confident smile and the softening of his eyes as his gaze locks onto you. Cheeky and challenging. Just the way you like it. Just the way you both would have it.
"You look so endearing when flustered."
"Shut up."
"I love you even still!"
"Unfortunately, I do too."
"Haha, of course you d– Huh, wait, what do you mean, unfortunately?! [name]!"
The rest of the day is spent without your work bothering you. Not that you don't mind, of course. Only because you're spending it in his company.
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© 𝐦𝐡𝐢𝐢𝐞𝐞𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.
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iceunhie · 8 months
Note
So, um, I don't have any brainrot because my brain is dead. But ever since the trailer, I CAN'T STOP SIMPING AT NEUVILLETTE OH MY GOD. AND THOSE VIDEOS WITH THE OTTERS TOO SHSJSJKSKM
Sorry. Haven't been able to throw up my love for him to anyone so, yeah.
For a request, maybe painter! reader who wants to paints him? I mean, he is too majestic to not have any paintings of him hanging somewhere.
Thank you, and lots of loveee. It's okay if you don't want to write this too
AFFALATUS.
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summary: in which you, an aspiring painter in Fontaine finds your muse in the ever-steadfast Chief Justice, and what better way do you express such a fondness for the Chief Justice than to use your artistic skillset to capture him in all his glory? ah, and perhaps capture his heart on the way.
notes: neuvillette x GN!reader (implied fem due to Neuvillette's use of 'my lady' though). comedic(?) super fluffy (haha are you sure abt that?) reader shenanigans, misunderstandings and reader being a simp (like me) sap, neuvillette is a sweetheart and i may have gotten carried away help. she fell first he fell harder trope, dialogue focused and relationship development mostly. reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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Sometimes, you think that had you not chosen to be an artist; a painter, to be specific, you would certainly do well as a Bard, or a writer. The sheer amount of poems and song you could conjure up in your head detailing the fine traits and qualities of such a finely procured man such as Neuvillette would certainly make you someone of great renown, as you could prescribe and go on and on about his person. Would you be displayed at the Palais Mermonia, perhaps? As a fine appreciator for the Chief Justice's conduct?
Haha, your foot. Fontaine would sink itself under the waters before you would be recognized, much less acknowledged. Such was the pain of being but an ordinary person, getting by the day slowly but surely.
Artists all look for their muse. Whether be in in music, the nuances of literary work, or in your chosen profession, the art of color, the art of capturing life at its most raw form through the canvas. painting. It just so happens that your current muse happens to be the wonderful, all knowing, and breathtakingly striking Monsieur Neuvillette.
Which is what led you to your current conundrum. How would you be able to capture his image? Sure, there were official shots of the Chief Justice, but you would never be satisfied with that. The real deal is always the best reference. (you don't want to admit it, but you know you could easily paint him with but a few pictures as a reference point. you simply wanted to see him up close, says that shameless heart of yours.)
Monsieur Neuvillette was a very, very busy man. Simply garnering an audience with him would cause much of your yearly savings and the sparsity of your visit would never let you finish that painting of his image truly capturing his allure. But you were never one to give up once you've set your sights on something, though.
...Which, unfortunately, leads you into more trouble than it's worth.
Your face burned in embarrassment as the Chief Justice himself scoured through your paintings and sketches personally, humming absentmindedly in between them, calmly sitting with you in his very quarters at the Palais Mermonia. You didn't expect that Monsieur Neuvillette would be so perceptive, as he immediately noticed you following him (if only to document his actions and sketch him) and for him to personally interrogate you about your actions. Well, it didn't matter anymore, so might as well fess up, right? The last thing you would want is for your dearly beloved muse to think you were some sort of deranged stalker, and you end up with some sort of crime....
While the morbid curiosity of seeing what he was like in an official trial was tempting, you pushed that thought away as you began to sputter out your words.
"Please forgive me for my disrespectful actions, Chief Justice! I swear, I had no malicious intentions at all...!"
you immediately spill out the words, a thousand apologies ready to spill itself out your mouth. to your great surprise and relief, the Chief Justice simply shakes his head, as he puts down your sketches of him.
"Please, it's no offense at all. If anything, I am flattered that I am a subject to most of your impressive works, my lady. your talent is remarkable."
"...Pardon?" you look at him, disbelief coloring your face. this was unexpected.
"You actually... think that my work is, is good?"
The man next to you nods, his face not betraying a single emotion. Goodness, you could almost faint. He was even more beautiful up-close. Such sharp eyes, and such unique patterns... ahem.
"If you wished to capture me as a work for your latest masterpiece, my lady, you must at least inform me, or schedule an appointment with me. I would be more than happy to oblige."
"But I don't have the Mora, Chief Justice..."
"Ah. That can be arranged."
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You thank the Hydro Archon for Monsieur Neuvillette's kindness. To think that he personally arranged a meeting for you to sketch him and bring your dreams of capturing him in a portrait come true...
Oh, you shall put all of your modus operandi into this piece, now that your spark has been lit. This is a debt you will definitely not forget, and you hope that your portrait can repay that.
And so, for over the next few months, you would arrive at the Palais Mermonia with a specially curated trinket (personally handed to you by Neuvillette) to show to the Melusine Sedene to access a personal audience with the Chief Justice. For the first few weeks, you're besought with joy at the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
You would sketch and accompany Neuvillette as he would do his business. When asked by him as to why you did this, when you were simply capturing his image, he said, you sent him a mortified look, before you explained.
"Art is not just simply putting what you see on a canvas, Monsieur. It is observing, emulating, and envisioning the subject and using that as a way to bring life and meaning to a canvas. It is the very expression of the soul, a longing to etch what the artist thinks is beautiful to a permanent surface...! Ah."
"So you believe that I am such a subject?"
You look sheepish, as you had begun to ramble and reveal your fondness for him.
"Forgive my insolence, Chief Justice. My talk of the arts may not suit your fancy or disinterest you..."
"Neuvilette."
"Yes?"
"...I do not mind you wishing to converse with me. As I shall see you more for the next months as you bring your work to life, as you say, addressing me not by my title is mandatory. I would prefer it if you would simply call me by my name, my lady."
"And..." he looks at you, a little more softly this time. "I do not mind being subject to your talk of the arts either. Converse with me about such things if it makes you feel comfortable."
"...Understood. Then, Sir Neuvillette, I am [name]. I look forward to working with you."
"As do I, Miss [name]."
He offers his hand for you to shake, and you feel yourself flush just a bit, before you firmly shake hands, as you smile at him gratefully.
Little did you know, that your talk of the arts caught his interest, as did his curiousity of you.
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"Why do artists such as you enjoy to be so swayed by your work, Miss [name]? To the point where your ilk would happily go without a human's basic needs.... It is fascinating to me. Is this a common characteristic among the practitioners of those who dabble in the arts? What drives your kind to be so interested in such things so deeply?"
Overtime, as Neuvillette and you both eased into the steady routine of you observing him, sketching him, making a few brushstrokes in your canvas, and him simply going about his day, conversations about the subtleties of human life and human needs became a common source of pleasant conversation.
To Neuvillette's great surprise, and secret appreciation, your views were unique, and completely different from his, or any other average Fontainian citizen. Your contrasting views are evident by your conversations, as you both try to understand the other through talks of the ways humans think, and how they live their lives in spite of how fleeting it is. He thinks of you as peculiar, but he doesn't dislike it. If anything, he finds it endearing. That your mind would be able to reach conclusions that even he would not be able to reach. That you hold onto your views in such a beautiful and captivating way.
He enjoyed it. He very much enjoyed your company, and your discussions. He hasn't felt such feelings in such a long, long time. The feeling of being understood, and being challenged. Of being... calmed and liking someone's presence, of being fond of it, even.
As even more months passed, conversations like that have also been overtaken by conversations about your daily lives, as you ramble about your day as you continue your work on the canvas, and the normally silent halls of his chambers fill with your and his voice, as you both revel in each other's company.
Neuvillette thinks he's never seen such a fascinating individual such as you. Who can question and break down his steady beliefs, and who he was able to open up to with time.
He wonders to himself after you've long retired for the night. After you finish your work and these days of tranquility and these conversations he so cherished will end, would you grace him with your presence again? Or would you simply just see him as the ever righteous and untouchable Chief Justice once more, and not as 'Neuvillette', the one who conversed, questioned, and listened to your views, and would he simply see you as nothing more than a mere painter who simply took him as a subject to their latest work?
You both would become strangers, never entangling yourselves again as your lives go on.
For some reason, the thought of that makes his heart twist uncomfortably.
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The painting of Neuvillette is stunning.
You almost burst into tears of joy at the finished work. Yes, yes, this was it! Your work and efforts have finally paid off. Countless hours and different techniques tried, many changes and many frustrated nights, and it has finally been completed.
Brushstrokes of different shades of blue, the vibrant background, and the features of the Chief Justic-- No, the features of Neuvillette. The painting dons him in an expression of tranquility, as fleeting as his expression is, it is forever captured in color, with you as the sole witness to it.
Now, the only thing you have to do is deliver it to Neuvillette's chambers. He did promise you compensation, after all. Who were you to disagree? And for the price he gave... Ah, being able to grow close to him meant you were of course paid well for your efforts, after all.
(not that you would care if he didn't compensate you or not. his company and his leniency to your actions and your passion, as well as letting him see and hear your thoughts and feelings and let you listen to his pondering for the months that passed would have left you satisfied anyway. such was your enamoured state with him.)
It's raining heavily when you arrive at his chambers one final time. Sedene greets you, as if used to your presence already, by how much you frequent. You feel a pang of inexplicable sadness at bidding Neuvillette's company a final farewell.
You would soon be just a spectator, and never truly see 'Neuvilette' again as you did at the months that passed. The conversations, the familiar routine of chatting with him about inane to deep topics.... Yes, you shall miss it as well.
You wonder if he'll miss it too. (will he miss you?) You can only take a deep breath, as you knock on his chambers for one last time.
"...Come in, Miss [name]."
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As expected, your work is beautiful. Neuvillette was not lying when he thought of that last statement. Your portrait of him is serene, calming, and... and so lovingly curated by you.
Unlike most of his official portraits and pictures, this particular portrait exudes an aura of familiarity, a testimony to your bond that has slowly developed with time. this portrait was created with the intention of capturing him as 'Neuvilette.' Not as the Chief Justice of Fontaine, not as the leader of the Marchaussee Phantom, but simply as the Neuvillette you spent time with, you indulged in, and grew fond of.
(did you grow fond of him as he did of you? did he occupy your thoughts, as you did with his own?)
His heart skips, but this time it's an intense feeling of longing. He doesn't wish to be deprived of your presence, of your comfort.
Of your warmth, just yet.
"...euvilette? Neuvilette?" your voice is soft, he thinks. it snaps him from his thoughts, as he looks at you, and he sees you donning and expression of sheepishness, hesitancy.
"it is lovely. your work, i find it exquisite, [name]."
he turns to look at you, his expression softening. for the first time in a long time, his lips curl into a real, genuinely happy smile. (only for you.)
you flush at his words, as you hang your head down, your expression betraying the true extent of your feelings towards his words (and towards him.)
there is a few beats of silence, before one of you takes the plunge.
"If I may, may I be inclined to seek your company... even after our arrangement has ended? if, if it isn't bothering you, of course."
you blink at him, processing his words for a few moments, before a radiant smile graces your face, mirth overtaking your expression.
"Of course."
your words make his heart beat once more, as he feels this foreign feeling invade his conscious once again. he doesn't hate it.
the heavy rainfall stops, as does his worries and his doubts. he may not know exactly what this feeling is right now, but there's one thing he can't deny.
He's glad you came into his unchanging, ever-present world, like a splash of color to his normally dull, rigid life. He recalls a conversation you had once before.
To you, art was the expression of the soul, the permanent etch borne of its creator's love bleeding through a myriad of brushstrokes of passion, comfort, longing and intense desire. coalescing into one form, a permanent fixture of the unchanging and deep feelings that only a few would truly want to understand in its whole. To want to uncover everything, and appreciate it in its entirety.
While it may have been you that called him your muse, and it may have been you that called him to be a 'work of art,' Neuvillette can't help but think that it was you, who truly deserved such a title.
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