rhas-writes

[rhas-writes]

actually offensive that mini durin isn’t a little flying companion like seelie’s. actually heartbreaking

[rhas-writes]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 "𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐃𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇" 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐊— 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

if there was one word you could use to describe wriothesley, it would be cold.

contents. 7.4k+ wc (please give it a chance 🙏) f!reader, a non-canon annual animal hunting competition, furina being in her matchmaker era, cliche but that’s kinda the point, there's a trope called the “cold duke of the north” trope that describes a very stereotypical male lead, super similar to the “company ceo trope”! picture creds: @/ochaiit - x notes. “on a scale from one to ten how self-indulgent was this alexis” a ten. i need him.

being a government official under the rule of focalors, you often have to do things you don’t want to do. the job description means a lot of things, including (but not limited to) enduring tedious meetings with neuvillette and rescuing stray kittens lurking outside the palais mermonia, but this really takes the cake.

“will you be a dear and let me know how wriothesley is doing?”

you blink as furina claps her hand excitedly, leaning forward to stare gleefully at the cookies that line the plate before her.

“…sorry?”

“well, i realized i actually don’t know that much about the fortress of meropide,” she smiles flippantly, completely enamored by the sweet treats in front of her, “i want you to do some routine check-ups and make sure everything’s running smoothly!”

“but i—”

“i’m sorry but i already let him know, so i’m afraid you don't have a choice in the matter.” her eyes peer up, that cat-like quality in her iris making your eye twitch; she gives you a close-eyed smile as she pushes the tray to the middle of the table, “here, take one as a gift! you can even give one to him if you’d like.”

“i’m alright, thank you.” you smile, waving your hands in front of you as the traitorous back of your mind wonders how you ended up with someone like her as your archon (seriously, your prospects in sumeru would fare far better), but you attempt to shush it as best as you can as your back sinks onto the plush pillows on the edge of the couch, your fingers unconsciously picking at the loose fuzz.

she studies your stature closely, barely disguising the glint of suspicion in her eyes.

“why do you look so flustered? does the duke make you nervous?” her grin shifts from virtuous to a more mischievous flavor as she daintily plucks a cookie off the tier, “hot and bothered, even?”

“no!” you protest quickly, shooting up from your position; her smile is teasing at best and almost evil at worst, making your face feel even more aflame as she chews on the cookie thoughtfully, patiently waiting for you to defend yourself more.

“i just…” you grimace under her stare, “don’t think he likes me is all.”

her eyes widen in surprise — real surprise, from what can you tell (a rarity from your archon). “whatever do you mean?”

“i mean, he’s always so…” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you try to think of the word, “cold? he avoids me at every event he’s forced to come to, and when i think he’s just in a bad mood or something, i see him chatting up neuvillette or clorinde five minutes later! i haven’t done anything to him and he finds every excuse not to talk to me!”

“it doesn't seem like that big of a deal to me, maybe he’s just nervous?” she shrugs, her feet rocking back and forth as her heels hit the back of the couch.

you wrinkle your nose. “why would he be?”

your archon thinks for a moment, and for once, you think she might actually be genuine.

as soon as her mask slips, though, her playful smile is back on her face, and she bounds off her lounging position, grabbing a small cake to bring to her table.

“anyways, just check in with me once you’re done visiting down there, okay? i’ll get you access and everything so you don’t need to worry about that!” she sets the plate on the wooden desk — you stand up, knowing that this is her way of ushering you out.

“goodbye now!” she waves cheerfully as you make your way to the door, “i’ll have neuvillette send you the schedule later!”

you hope later means never.

(unfortunately for you, neuvillette has the schedule at your doorstep by sunset.)

I.) MUSCLES FOR DAYS (HARD-ROCK ABS, REALLY?)

“and this is where the inmates live,” wriothesley holds his hand out, helping you up the stairs, “the dormitories are all here; every person has their own bed, room, and bathroom, and although curfew is strict, it’s not unreasonable. so, are we done here?”

you look around the hallways leading to the rooms, split off into four clusters across multiple levels. furina and her insatiable curiosity for the deep fortress of meropide will be the death of you.

“i’ll be down here again if we're not,” you turn to him, showing him the crude map you’ve drawn of the fortress layout, “does this look right to you?”

he tilts his head, his pale eyes squinting at the rough sketch you’ve made before he lifts his right eyebrow, “i’m not sure why you put “gross food” in the cafeteria section, but other than that, it looks about right.”

you used to think wriothesley could actually be quite handsome if he talked to you more, but that was before his tactic switched from avoiding you to subtly pissing you off (the eye candy definitely helps, though).

“for furina,” you smile noncommittally, “she wouldn’t enjoy the food down here, it’s too heavy.”

his nods in acknowledgment. “it’s good that she can have you do her dirty work every time she wants to check up on this place, then.”

your eye twitches as you fold the map back into your pocket distastefully, biting your lip as your shoes clack against the steel floor, the iron lanterns providing some very much-needed warmth to the lack of it.

he's not wrong, she’s sent you down here multiple times for the past few weeks for “research” that the warden could easily provide her, but she's been insistent on sending you instead; today and the past three days have been about her pushing you to create a personalized map for her (as if she would ever go down there willingly). wriothesley’s comment definitely wasn't needed, but as long as you can get out of here as quickly as possible and return to where the sunlight actually shines, your day is still redeemable.

that is, until sigewinne ruins everything.

“your grace, your grace!” she runs up the other side of the steps as the two of you are making your way down — you quickly turn around at her panicked tone only to be met with wriothesley's abdomen, his ruffled black dress shirt tucked into his pants and his startled expression only a single step behind you.

you make a noise and take a step back out of surprise, only to have your foot trip on the step below you.

it all happens too fast for you to perceive, because one moment your heart drops in preparation for some inevitable head injury from the metal that makes up the damned place, and in the next, you feel someone's arm pull yours back, harshly stalling your fall as a blur of black and red envelops your body; your chin bumps painfully against his as you crash onto the floor, the pricking stinging at your skin and fuck, did you just—

wriothesley’s eyes are screwed shut in pain as his shoulder rams into the floor, a soft groan leaving his lips as you feel your face heat up, too flustered to move — his adam’s apple bobs as your warm exhales fan his neck, and archons, it feels like you’re lying against a wall. a soft wall, but a wall nonetheless; your arms grip at his biceps as you push yourself off of him after half a minute, his forearms sliding lax off of your back, grimacing. did he just take the brunt of the fall for you?

you stare down at him in horror, the heat from your hands contrasting the cold metal, the faint red on his lips contrasting his pale skin; his eyes open, dazedly staring at the ceiling instead of you.

it’s almost funny how he still somehow manages to avoid your gaze even when he’s injured.

you scramble off of him in the next moment, moving to extend a hand to his, helping him up with as much strength as you can muster (it is your fault anyway), trying to cover up the faltering mess you are.

it doesn’t help that you hang your face down low, avoiding eye contact as the heat creeps into your ears.

his lips are parted ever so slightly, a shaky breath escaping them before he heaves out a heavy sigh. “what hit me?” his fingers gingerly touch his chin as sigewinne bounds over to his side, calling his name out worriedly.

he didn’t feel your lips on his—? “my forehead,” you blurt out quickly, swallowing, patting your forehead, “i must’ve bumped your chin, i’m sorry.”

he blinks in confusion before he sighs for the umpteenth time (it really does seem like he's always sighing when you're around), straightening his back.

“be more aware of your surroundings next time,” he says stiffly, “i'll have deakin escort you back up, i apologize for not doing it myself.”

your expression sours at the thought of deakin before you remember that the warden is in front of you, and you flash a fake smile. “i'll see him up there, then,” your eyes flit to the melusine who stares innocently at you, biting the inside of your lip, “it was nice running into you, sigewinne.”

she offers to give you a small check-up with apologetic eyes but you refuse quickly; you can’t be down here for another second, not the way wriothesley’s pale eyes burn holes into the back of your head as you leave.

deakin is as rude and boring as ever, your interaction with wriothesley has rendered any ability to ever make eye contact with him again useless, and you’re a little bit more than pissed at furina for sending you down there in the first place, so when you see her waiting with hearts in her eyes and an excited grin on her face when you step out of the elevator, you have to mentally prepare yourself.

“so,” furina smiles innocently, “how did it go?”

you swallow, your cheeks warm under her gaze.

“…i think i accidentally kissed him,” your chin throbs, but not as fast as your heart is, “and i don't think he noticed.”

II.) THAT SPECIFIC HAIRSTYLE (WHY DOES HIS NEW HAIRCUT LOOK THE SAME?)

despite how incessantly you plead, furina insists on sending you back. you think she's been reading too many isekai novels that yae’s publishing house has been pushing out recently — not that they're bad, but because it's impossible to be blind to her motives.

“let me guess,” you shoot him a playful look, “they call you a demon on the battlefield.”

wriothesley raises an eyebrow. “i’ve never touched a battlefield in my life.”

to your surprise, the man didn't mention your embarrassing mishap that occurred on that very first day, which either means that he's just as mortified as you are or that you’d misjudged his character from the beginning, and he's actually a saint in disguise.

you think it might be the latter because even with your constant badgering over these past few weeks, he's never once complained; he just hangs back, letting you explore the nooks and crannies in the fortress without much grievance.

the excuse is a safety check this time, which is infinitely worse than the past days because you actually don't have many qualifications to decide what is safe and what isn't.

“are you good with a sword?”

“i prefer my fists.”

“i think swords are cooler.”

“keep talking and i can show you first-hand just how much cooler my gauntlets are.”

you laugh to yourself, your fingers trailing against the rusty pipes of the fortress and your snickers echoing against the hollow copper.

you glance at the man next to you as sneakily as you can, taking a moment to admire his stoic features. his words may have seemed to be mean-spirited, but he remains as aloof as he’s always been; his eyes shift to yours before you immediately turn away, staring up at the screws and bolts that line the area. you swallow, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment.

you and wriothesley aren't particularly best friends, no, but there are times — certain hours of the day and depth carved into your short allotments with him — when you feel a small connection buzzing between your fingertips and his, or when you catch him looking at you just a little bit longer than he’s supposed to. it gives you a childish sense of hope, the kind that lights giddy fires in your heart when he turns his head in your direction.

“so what’s up there?”

“hm?” wriothesley stops in his tracks at the sound of your voice, following your finger to the dark edges of the hallway. the tube you stand in is supposed to be empty, save for the random crab that stumbles its way in through the large pipes or overgrown flora covering certain areas, but you’re not lying, something is sparkling in the distance up ahead from you.

it’s dim enough that he can’t make it out until the two of you get closer, and through tentative steps, the two of you slowly approach it.

it’s a pool, he realizes, stopping no more than a few centimeters away from the platform's edge, barely inches above the still water that lies flat below him. you’re right behind him, peeking shyly from behind his shoulder to the clear blue under you (he feels your breath on his jacket for just a moment, your eyes peering at the water as if you're staring right past his skin).

“…this doesn’t bode well.” his voice doesn’t echo as much as it should, not with the swamped area and the sound of the fortress’s money practically going down the flooded pipe drain in front of him.

“wait, what do you mean?” you come up from behind him, kneeling down on the pavement. the loose rock digs into your knees and your hands grip the edges as you lean down as far as you can, practically bringing your chin to the water’s surface — you can’t help the wide smile that appears on your face as you turn to peer up at the man; from this angle, it’s beautiful, with seaweed and sand caved into the pool just a few feet away with shells and crustaceans alike, “can’t you use this to swim or something? i’m sure the inmates would love to stretch their limbs!”

“unlikely.” his face is grim, “this was supposed to be a drainage tube that also blocked water from entering, the fact that it’s broken down this much and for this long…i can’t even imagine the damage it’s done to the metal surrounding the area. it's already surprising enough that the left wing of the fortress hasn't been affected yet.”

it’s around this moment that you realize that you don’t like this expression on wriothesley’s face.

it's too similar to the cold and unfeeling appearance he used to parade around you, but it's worse because the way his eyebrows furrow and the way he bites his bottom lip shows something unnatural for wriothesley, something you've never quite noticed.

you know that realistically, he's probably worn “worry” before from deep within the shadows of his office and far from the blue sky that you know, but in all your years of knowing him, you've never seen it, the sullen gray that pools in his iris, the tense in his shoulders. it doesn't feel like him — a powerful and handsome warden such as himself should be gallivanting around with sly grins and open arms, not beating himself up over a mistake that no one's noticed before this.

“hey, did you get a haircut?” you ask randomly, swinging your fingers mindlessly across the still water.

he seems to shake out of his brooding stupor at your words, shifting his eyes to look down at you. “you’ve noticed?”

no.

“of course i did!” you lie through your teeth, creating ripples around your skin as you stare up at him. he nods in acknowledgment, his small frown still pulling at his lips as he contemplates his new problem.

there's much to do after all, the plumbers, builders, and conservationists will all cost a hefty amount of mora he doesn't know he can spare, not with the leaks in the right wing and the upgraded dorm construction that's already underway (it's not as if this isn't urgent, though, it's most certainly one of the more dire cases, however time-sensitive it is). it's been a while since he's applied for a loan, but maybe neuvillette could help him out, or maybe furina would even give him a free pass and tap into the treasury—

a splash.

“wrio?” his head quirks up again, this time because of the sudden nickname (unexpected, but not unwelcome), only to be met with the sound of a flick and something wet and salty on his face. he closes his eyes out of instinct, letting out a noise akin to a strangled gasp, spluttering on the water that sits on his skin as he hears you practically snort next to him.

your head is leaning against your free hand, brazenly smiling at the shocked look on his face — not the normal guilty look of a prankster, but the fact that your other hand still has water dripping off of it and that no playful seals are rippling underneath the blue leads him to the simplest conclusion he can think of.

“what was that for?”

to distract you, to make you feel better, because i wanted to — the explanations flood your head, but you respond by flicking him again, spraying small drops of saltwater back onto his face.

“your hair was just a bit messy, new haircuts tend to do that,” you stand up, reaching your hands up to fix his hair, ruffling your fingers where the black roots part on his scalp, swiping his cheek with the dry part of your wrist afterwards. your palm feels warm, despite how cold the water that settled on his skin felt, your nails grazing ever so softly against his temple, brushing one last time against the damp hair that lies on his forehead.

you step back, happy to see that his frown is indeed turned upside down (more like in complete shock, but you still count it), gently tapping his shoulder before you begin to make your way back through the hallway. “c’mon, let’s go talk to furina and neuvillette about this, i'm sure they'll get it fixed in no time if i'm there!”

his heart thumps loudly against his chest.

“why would it matter if you were there?”

the golden light from the lanterns reflects off of your jewelry as you turn back, a playful smile on your face. “they like me more, obviously.”

you lead the way, and after a moment of hesitation, he follows.

(he's not sure why, but in that moment, he thinks he might follow you anywhere you go.)

III.) COMMUNICATION ISSUES (SERIOUSLY, IS HIS FACE STUCK ON THE SAME SETTING?)

if there was one word you have to describe wriothesley, it'd be cold.

“hey, are you sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

his prison is far deep down in the sea where the sunlight doesn't touch, to say his personality is mysterious would be an understatement, and his cryo vision only seems to be a physical representation of his attitude.

“i feel like i could freeze in these temperatures myself.”

your nail leaves your mouth after the girl oh-so-rudely interrupts your musing — you turn your head to look at her — she’s being rather sarcastic for being someone who’s supposed to be here and comfort you, but you suppose that’s always been the way furina’s acted.

“you’re an archon,” the words escape your lips unceremoniously, “it’d be rather disappointing if you froze by a humble mortal’s stare.”

she both looks and behaves the same way you’ve known her ever since you walked into her palace at five years old, your eyes filled with wonderment at the destiny that awaited you if you chose to serve the archon the same way your parents and theirs had.

she has the decency to look worried, though, with her eyebrows furrowed in distress and the cerulean mixing with teal in both of her irises widening in concern. wriothesley’s eyes don’t look like hers, you think, hers are prettier by far, who would ever think—

“humble mortal’s glare.” she gives you a pointed look; you stick out your tongue before turning your head to face the copper that’s on your right.

you really wish you were looking out a window right now, perhaps a flower pot would be on the windowsill, with navy blue curtains tied neatly on the side? perhaps a bird would come to feed on the seed that lies outside, or a pretty nurse would be here to help tend to your wounds, but as much as you try to imagine it, the ugly red-orange of the metal stands out like a freak of nature in your eyes, reminding you just where you are.

“wriothesley and sigewinne should be here any moment,” furina places a hand on your shoulder, her gloves daintily patting it, “i think i’ll see myself around here — to check if your map is as correct as it could’ve been. i could fire you if it’s wrong, y’know!”

“don’t go near the cafeteria,” you sigh, staring forlornly at the wall, “you’d hate it.”

she blows a raspberry in your face, and you manage a snort, as much as you can without your stomach killing you.

knock knock.

your laughter halts immediately, and furina glances momentarily at the door; it swings open (rather rudely, you think, without much delay nor care) as wriothesley and sigewinne step through. his hair has grown ever so slightly since the last time you saw him, and the eyebags under his eyes are more prominent than usual, but still, he looks as handsome as ever.

“focalors,” wriothesley bows slightly in respect at his archon, sigewinne following his lead as furina curtsies back. the man spares a glance at you, only to be met with a bone-chilling glare that sends him facing furina immediately, a hospitable smile on his face.

“i’ll have deakin — not deakin—” he immediately corrects himself, “i’ll have chambodouc escort you through the fortress; sigewinne, i have something to discuss with the patient, are you free to take furina to the shop? wait outside when you’re done.”

sigewinne agrees happily, none the wiser to the daggers you pierce into wriothesley’s back with your eyes (either that, or she doesn’t care), skipping her merry way to chambodouc as your archon abandons you, trailing not too far behind. wriothesley sighs as he closes the door after them — your eyes watch consciously as he drags his body to pull the chair next to you out to sit down.

“are you alright?” he doesn't take the time to get comfortable, immediately on the edge of the seat with his back hunched, “do you feel too hurt anywhere?”

the stingrays that attacked you are far more forgiving than he is.

“no,” you say simply, “it aches, but sigewinne is masterful at her craft.”

he nods, rubbing his thumb against the ring on his pointer finger. there’s a second of silence that passes through, and for once, you think you might be able to enjoy a moment of peace to yourself, but the hunk of black and red decides to open his mouth again.

“…you really shouldn’t have been out there—”

you groan. “oh my god—”

“diving near here has always been known to be dangerous, something worse could’ve happened.”

“really? it’s almost like i was willing to take the risk, have you ever thought about that?”

he bristles. “you are in no position to be satirical right now—”

“and you are in no position to be here right now!”

the beat of silence comes again, but it’s heavier this time, too heavy for you to pretend that you could ever be at peace in your tawdry hospital bed in the fortress of meropide. you exhale, fluttering your eyelids closed as you muster up as much courage as you can before you ask him, “why are you here?”

at first, you thought you might’ve been looking into it too much — your ability to overthink is one of the reasons that furina hired you after all — and it honestly seemed like your relationship was fine before furina changed your schedule to something useful (in fact, it felt like you might even get closer to him), but he had gone radio silent ever since you stopped coming to the fortress regularly.

that’s why you’re surprised, you think.

you find yourself wondering if he’ll actually respond to your question, but by the way he remains silent, you’re afraid he might just get up from his seat and walk out. you shift, tilting your head down so that you meet his eyes; he almost jumps at the sudden movement, but he remains seated.

what kind of person do you have to be to ignore someone’s letters for weeks and show up at their injured bedside in the same breath?

how can he sit next to you with furrowed brows and concerned eyes when he asked neuvillette for your timetable so that you wouldn’t be in the palace when he went up there, not knowing you were just outside the office?

how could he practically reduce your relationship to what it was before furina assigned you down here?

“hey, did i do something to you?” you ask him bluntly, and his face falls in horror, “did i say something wrong? because if i did, you really should’ve just told me instead of—”

“no, no!” he waves his hands in a sort of protest, and he pauses, his lips wringing in hesitation, “you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“so what’s going on?”

the duke looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, but he stays anyways. “i’m not avoiding you because of anything you did,” he utters his words slowly and meticulously, as if his entire reputation depends on them, “it’s my own shortcomings that are at fault.”

you blink.

“i don't have many…acquaintances outside the fortress, so i'm not exactly sure how to keep up with others,” his tone sounds strange — timid, even, “so when i got your letters, i kept holding it off because i wasn't confident i could say what i wanted to correctly.”

he continues, his posture unfitting of a duke, his shoulders hunched with shame. “it'd always be at the back of my mind as i did my duties, but it'd be far too late at that point to send one back without an excuse, which i didn't have. i never meant to make you wait for so long, it was just difficult for me to reply.”

your eye twitches. how has anything ever gotten done in the prison?

“so you thought it'd be better to just avoid me altogether?”

“i knew you'd be angry, rightfully, of course.” he tacks that last part as an offering of peace, a point of understanding he hopes you can connect.

“you do understand that i'd actually get angrier as you went longer with no reply, right?” you cross your arms, leaning back on the metal headboard of the hospital bed.

the man cocks his head to the side. “well, it makes sense now that you've said it.”

…okay, well now you feel bad. the cold warden of an even more unforgiving prison more resembles a man kicked to the side of the road, a solemn pout unconsciously playing on his lips as he practically sulks in his seat, and your heart melts for him just a little bit.

“so you were actually worried?”

“yes.”

“about me?”

“yes.”

“and you weren't avoiding me because you despise my presence?”

“of course not.” his answer is firm and definitive before he quickly adds, “but that doesn't mean you must forgive me, truly, i completely understand if you feel uncomfortable here, and we'll be sure to get you out as soon as—”

“it's okay, you don't have to keep apologizing.” the words escape your lips as you sigh in consolation, the relief washing over your body as you shift forward.

he nods, “…i really am sorry—”

“oh,” you joke, “be quiet.”

what you don't expect is for him to do exactly that, closing his mouth immediately as he stares at you in earnest.

if you weren't already so smitten with his eyes, you might find it creepy how bright they are — the wholeheartedness practically seeping into the pale hues. you feel heat crawl to the back of your neck, a heat that really only makes it's appearance when wriothesley gets close to you.

“let’s just start over and completely reset everything,” you fight back the incessant warmth, pulling your lips back into a tight smile, “clean slates.”

“…everything?” he echoes blankly, his eyes blinking in some sort of astonishment. he doesn’t want to reset everything, but he supposes he’s in no position to refuse if you want to, so he straightens his back, attempting to fix the frown that pulls from his lips. “alright, if that’s what you want.”

the seriousness in his expression makes your heart melt again, punching through it as if the past couple of minutes of your messy attempt to build your walls up again were mere seconds with toy blocks. 

yeah, you think, maybe gauntlets are better.

“…are you going to the chasse this year?” you tilt your head.

his eyebrows furrow. “i typically don't attend those types of events.”

“it would be wonderful if you did,” you smile; you've only been this close to wriothesley once, but his face shrouded by the dark lighting of the broken-down corridor could hardly compete with the sight you see before you, “rumor has it that a rather lonely official would appreciate your presence.”

“oh?” a hesitant, faint smile appears on his lips (you wonder just how wide his grin could be—if it's a toothy smile you can imagine in your head, if his canines are as sharp as you think they might be), and he glances up at your eyes again, “and would you consider this rumor to be true?”

“you'd have to be there to validate my answer anyways, wouldn't you?”

his expression cracks again, his mouth curving up as a chuckle escapes his lips. “i guess i would.” his head naturally tilts as he laughs, but you can barely think of a response to the sound of his laughter echoing in your ear, your face surely hot enough to boil the ocean around you.

his laugh is so cute.

“your smile suits you well, monsieur.” you end up blurting out the words without thinking, a wavering lilt in your tone as you gaze up at him in some awestruck stupor.

his lips are so cute.

he seems to freeze at the compliment for just a moment, before he bows his head. “thank you.”

he’s so cute.

the man suddenly gets out of his chair, keeping his head low before he turns around, practically making a beeline for the door, “i think i hear sigewinne outside, actually, so i probably shouldn't keep her waiting — i'll see you at the chasse!”

with that, he slams the door behind him, leaving you staring wide-eyed in the empty room.

…did you offend him somehow? you blink back your confusion, hesitating for just a moment before you clear your throat in the silent air, deciding that waiting for the fortress’s nurse to tend to your wounds is probably the best course of action. your face is hot and your fingers burn as you move to smooth out the wrinkled sheets that lie on top of you before folding the edges back neatly, leaning back onto your pillows with a strangled sigh.

how embarrassing.

on the other side of the door, sigewinne curiously peers up at her duke. he hasn't moved since he barged out of the room, his back as stiff as a line, one of his hands still on the metal handle and the other attempting to cover the lower half of his face.

“wriothesley,” she asks innocently, “why are you so red?”

IV. ASSET JEWELRY (OH, A BROOCH? FOR ME?)

out of all of fontaine's cultural festivals, the chasse is probably your least favorite. you don't really find hunting all that appealing nor do you like fraternizing with rich nobles who’ve never worked a day in their life, so the entire event is pretty boring for the most part.

“are you looking for somebody?”

neuvillette peers curiously at you as you sigh, flopping back into the seat next to him.

”no,” you grumble delicately, the dejected pout on your face a clear indicator that you’re lying, “i’m just bored is all.”

“well, please let me know if there’s anything i can do to pique your interest,” the man smiles softly as he rests his head back on the seat, somewhat of a knowing glint in the purple of his eyes, “or if there’s somebody that i can point to help you out.”

your eye twitches.

you make an embarrassed noise at his comment, and he continues to smile as the two of you overlook the stragglers that trickle into the open forest.

there are lot of familiar faces that you can see socializing with each other amongst the crowd; lynette and emilie, for example, are sipping on tea on the east side with many of the other ladies, conversing amongst the buttered biscuits and board games.

navia and clorinde are in a different corner, dressed in pantsuits and equipping their hunting gear as they talk, and you can even see charlotte bouncing around lyney and the rest of the crowd with her trusty camera at her side — all of these familiar faces, and still, the one that had promised to show up hasn’t yet.

“i’ll be right back,” you announce as you stand up again, and your head swivels to the man sitting beside you, “you’re fine to announce the event without me, right?”

“please, go ahead,” neuvillette gives you a close-eyed smile (it’s almost suspicious how agreeable he’s being), taking another sip of his tea, “furina will be here any moment, so we’ll be fine without you.”

the sun glares in your eyes and the leaves from the trees barely make enough shadow to provide shade against the relentless heat, but there are less people back here, so you’re quite positive that no one will disturb you on your quick break—

you give him a swift nod before you make your way down the steps before immediately turning to head back towards the exit.

you contemplate making an honest run for the gate and leaving before anyone can stop you, but your duty to fontaine is important, even if it caters to a hunting competition you’ve never appreciated since your youth. so, you branch off, turning to an open clearing nearby instead.

a hand grabs your arm, pulling you back.

a barely disguised shriek leaves your lips as your elbow hits the chest of your attacker, and they let out a grunt in response. you come to a horrifying conclusion that that particular wall of a chest feels far more familiar than you’d like to admit.

“wriothesley?” you quickly turn around, your feet tangling themselves against the soft dirt, and he catches your shoulder quickly, your body steadying against his palm. you look up, and your eyes sparkle.

“hi,” he gives you a wry smile, “fancy seeing you here.”

the suit he wears is far more fitting for a rich duke than his usual dress uniform — a long hunting coat drapes over his broad shoulders, buckled at the very middle with gold accents, a red dress shirt peeking out from behind the fur. his hair is styled differently too, swept back to reveal his forehead, a few rebellious strands sitting near his eyebrow.

you feel warm, and you're acutely aware that it's not because of the sun.

your eyes make the mistake of darting to his palm, zeroing in on the rings that line his knuckles, the veins that run on his skin, his fingertips on the edge of your shoulder. he seems to notice, because he quickly releases you from his grasp.

“um,” you clear your throat, ducking your head down just a bit, “yeah, you too! i honestly didn’t think you’d show up.”

his eyes dart to the side. “of course i did,” he says casually, “you asked me to come, didn't you?”

your cheeks flush.

“i'm glad you did.” you bite the inside of your cheek, and your eyes fall on the sword by his hip. “will you be competing?”

“i will,” he nods, his hand resting on the hilt; it looks new sheathed behind it’s cover, like it’s never been used before, “are you?”

you laugh, the smile breaking through your lips, “no, i’ll just be spectating today. i’ve never been into hunting, even if they are just robots.”

his eyebrows raise in surprise, and he falters, shifting with something in the pocket beside his sword. “a-ah, well,” he almost looks embarrassed underneath the sweltering sun, a sheepish grin on his face, “i guess that makes this useless, then.”

he pulls a small jewelry box from his pocket before carefully clicking it open, revealing a beautiful brooch in the middle. it’s the same deep red that’s the color of his suit, cut and polished, pinned and soldered to a golden casing, an intricate floral pattern fanning out past the gem. “i had hoped to wish you luck,” he admits, “i hope you still accept it.”

if you weren’t warm before, you surely are now.

giving jewelry to someone during the chasse was never just a tradition of good luck, no, it signified interest too. the novels that furina reads flood back into your head ー multiple women begging the crown prince to accept their charms, one girl accepting her lover’s and going on to win ー the flush on your face gets deeper, it’s so hot you might burn.

“this is how i know that you’re supposed to go outside more,” your voice comes out unnaturally high-pitched, “nobody has been trading jewelry for many years now.”

he hums. “i know,” he delicately takes the brooch out, clicking the box shut. he puts it back in his pocket, before he delicately grabs your hand, placing the jewel on your palm. it’s cool against the fire you feel on your skin at his touch, and he gently closes your fingers over it, making a fist. “i’m a romantic at heart. and, furina’s recommended your favorite books to me.”

of course furina is behind this.

you can hear a horn blaring from a distance, a sign that the event is about to start.

“can i confess something?”

you blink, and you look at him curiously. “sure?”

it blares again.

with the swift rush of the breeze that wafts past you, he leans down, his lips right next to your ear, his jaw tilted towards yours. “i’m only competing because i thought you would be as well,” his tone is soft and deep, “secretly, i hoped that i’d be receiving a piece of jewelry from you too.”

he steps back, and he gives you another smile. that’s two, you think. “since i’m not, though, please take care of that for me — if you cheer me on, i’ll be sure to win!”

with that, he walks away, the horn sounding a final time with a thunderous roar of applause. there’s a faint sound of neuvillette welcoming the diplomats, but if you’re being completely honest, you can’t hear a single thing behind the hot ringing in your ears. as wriothesley walks away, your thumb brushes against the jewel.

the forests of fontaine have always been beautiful, despite the random treasure hunter group or fatui members here or there, so you’re glad to be able to reconnect with the greenery after spending so much time in the city.

you think he might be prettier.

V.) A SOFT SPOT FOR THE FEMALE LEAD (WAIT, WHAT?)

if there was one word you could use to describe wriothesley, it’d be cold.

he’s aloof on good days and almost mean on bad days, his reputation is lower than the ground where the fortress of meropide resides, and his undoubtedly dark past leaves him closed off from the rest of the world.

he is…sweet, though.

“madame,” he taps on your shoulder, and you’re greeted with a different suit than the one he bore during the competition. it still looks exquisite on him, the long cape trailing past his tall legs, a tight navy vest hugging his chest, “what are you doing out here?”

“monsieur,” you smile teasingly as you set your wine glass down on the edge of the balcony. the moon is high in the sky now, the cold chill of fontaine’s atmosphere clear against the breeze, “i just needed a break from the festivities is all.”

he nods. “it’s pretty hectic in there, you made a good decision coming out here.” he exhales softly, closing his eyes, “...it did make it harder to find you, though. i was looking for you all night.”

when did wriothesley become such a natural flirt?

“i apologize,” you smile sheepishly, shifting your body to the side to allow more space, “here, feel free to join me!”

he accepts your invitation with a small smile, resting his arms against the stone, his head lying close to yours.

“congratulations on winning the hunt, by the way,” you play with your fingers, “seriously, i don’t think anyone stood a chance against you.”

“i admit that the sword was pretty cool.” his smile grows wider as he stares at the trees in the garden of the palais mermonia.

“i knew it!” you exclaim, nudging his shoulder in excitement, “gauntlets couldn’t have scored half of the points you got with a sword.”

“half is pushing it,” he snorts, and he looks down, his arm moving just a bit closer to yours, “besides, i had some motivation.”

you flush, becoming increasingly hyperaware of the brooch that you wear proudly on your dress. “i’m pretty good with a sword, y’know,” you inhale, “i could always teach you more sometime.”

“i’d like that,” he glances up at you, his blue eyes staring holes into you, half-lidded against the brightness of the moon, “it’d be nice to meet with you outside of official business.”

“we can call it non-official, then,” you smile innocently, “as long as furina doesn’t know.”

he chuckles lowly, and you can’t help but follow him, copying his movements. 

it’s silent for a moment with both of your heads rested on your arms, a cool breeze ruffling through your clothing as the party rages on inside. your voice comes out soft, almost a whisper that gets carried on with the rest of the night, “can i confess something?”

he perks up. “sure.”

“i would’ve accepted your brooch in a heartbeat if i wasn’t so shocked,” the embarrassment crawls up your neck, onto the tips of your nose, “even so, the only thing that i was thinking about was rushing back home and finding one to give to you.”

it’s like the atmosphere warms up with the way his eyes light up, and if you look closely, you can see a faint red that brushes against his cheeks. 

“i’m happy that you reciprocate,” his smile is smug, despite the blush that threatens fire on his body as he leans in closer, a teasing look in his eyes, “if you’d like, we can rush right back to your home right now.”

“why, youー!” you gasp in mock offense, hitting his shoulder. he practically cackles at his joke, and you glower, “you’re dangerous.”

“for you, i’ll try not to be.” 

his finger interlocks with yours absentmindedly, and he grins as the music begins again, “would you spare a dance with me tonight?”

the live orchestra plays live in the background warms up their instruments as guests begin to get into their places in the middle ー he leads you easily from your spot on the balcony, one hand on your shoulder, the other on your waist. 

the duke may be cold, but he makes you feel a fervor unknown to anybody else.

 “it would be my honor.”

wriothesley grew up around danger; his childhood was constantly filled with the fear of people who lurked behind dark corners, his teenage years spent fighting to reverse the system that was once used to punish him. he’ll try to be the least dangerous that he can be (although he’s pretty sure that’s not the danger you were talking about), and for you, he’ll endeavor to do his best.

much like the letters that he’ll continue to send you, he seals his pledge it with a kiss.

SIGHS. thank u for reading if youve made it this far!! wriothesley responding to letters is me w/ my texts 👎👎 fuck online communication that shit is unnatural

[rhas-writes]

𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕪 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕚𝕖↘

ft: tobio kageyama

a/n: anon requested. i’ve never written for him but i think he’s lowkey a tsundere or whatever those are called i’m not familiar. i don’t write for those but i feel like this falls into that idk. he’s like emotionally withdrawn but super into his girl. repost cause i wanted to mess with it a bit.

↠ subtle affection prompt drabbles

you walk into the gymnasium, which was nearly empty now, most of karasuno's volleyball team having left after a long day of practice. you waited patiently off to the side, watching as kageyama meticulously packed away the volleyballs and tidied up the equipment.

"kageyama!" you called out, in a bit of a singsong voice, echoing slightly in the large space. he looked up, a slight furrow of his brows as he noticed you approaching. it wasn't because he wasn't happy to see you, the opposite in fact. he just hated how god damn pretty you always looked, it threw him off. and he hated being thrown off

"what are you still doing here?" he says bluntly. "i thought you went home."

you shrugged. "couldn't leave without my all-star setter," you teased, stepping closer. "besides, i was bored." you pout up at him and it doesn't go unnoticed the blush that creeps up to his ears.

"wanna walk home with me?"

kageyama looks to you, putting the last volley ball away. pretty. y/n is so pretty. "yes," he mutters a little too quickly, as he slings his gym bag over his shoulder and approaches you. "i mean. fine yeah whatever."

stepping directly in front of him, you look up at his much taller frame, your fingers unconsciously finding their way to the strings of his hoodie. you tug on them gently, rolling the worn fabric between your fingers. you twirl one string around your right digit, giving him a mischievous smile.

"you know," you begin, "you were really intense out there today. it was kinda hot."

kageyama stares down at you, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. "w-what are you talking about?" he stammers, his eyes flickering away from yours. he hated the affect you had on him, how hot his cheeks felt and how he felt like he was gunna swallow his tongue. but he's good at playing it cool. "i was just practicing."

you let out a soft giggle. "yeah, but seeing you practice is hot," you say, giving the string another gentle tug. "the way you set is like, sexy."

he huffs again, trying to regain his composure. he thinks he's gunna melt onto the floor this very second, it's almost impossible for him not to show his embarrassment clear as day on his cheeks at your close proximity and the way you're hands fiddle with the strings of his hoodie.

"you're weird," he retorts, though his voice lacks its usual bite.

"maybe a little," you laugh, your smile widening as you lean a little closer, still rolling the strings between your fingers one last time before reaching up and poking his nose. "you like it."

kageyama's ears turn even more impossibly red, if that was possible, and he averts his gaze, grumbling. "whatever. let's just go." though he does not move to push you away, in fact it's almost as though he unconsciously leans just a bit closer, relishing in the scent of your perfume.

"you're cute when you're all flustered," you whisper.

"you can be so annoying," he grumbles, narrowing his eyes. you don't miss the slight pout that forms on his lips at all your teasing. why do you always do this to him?

"and yet, you can't seem to get rid of me."

"let's just... go already," he mutters, starting to head towards the exit, but not without grabbing your hand in his as he leads the way. your fingers intertwining with his, as you step outside of the hot gym and into the cool evening air. you're right; didn't matter how flustered he felt, or how much his hands sweat whenever you were close. no way he'd ever get rid of you.

[rhas-writes]

I’m normally a genshin blog but i also love haikyuu

miya atsumu + running through the rain

you knew that it would be raining, but you didn’t think that it would be this heavy of a downpour. with no umbrella, you tried to think of a way to get to the train station without getting soaked.

“you’re stuck here too?” you turned, meeting the eyes of miya atsumu. he was the school’s setter for the volleyball team, notorious among many in your grade.

“clearly,” you said with a smile, “i’m ln yn.”

“miya atsumu,” he told you, with a wink following after. “this isn’t an ideal situation, but i’m glad to see your pretty face.”

laughing for a bit, a comfortable silence followed.

“are you headed to the train station?” he asked. when you nodded, you saw the excitement in his eyes. taking off his blazer, he put it over your head while you immediately held it up. it was warm, and smelled like him, easing your nerves.

“run with me to the station, ln?”

“but won’t you get soaked, miya-”

“cute, but don’t worry ‘bout me, angel”

taking his offered hand, the two of you took your first steps into the rain. atsumu quickly glanced at you and saw the exhilarating look on your face.

that fateful day was when he fell in love with you.

it was surreal.

————————

reblogs help others see my work ;)

masterlist

[rhas-writes]

The different reader options are cool. I got to be both the badass I want to be and the scaredy cat I am.

Monster

word count; 979 – gn!reader who is shorter than Tendo

I had the idea to write two different reactions depending on the reader being either more extroverted or more introverted, feel free to read both or either option:)

It was raining outside, which made your little stroll to the vending machine all the more pleasurable. The sound of the little raindrops falling on the buildings, lawn and concrete was quite therapeutic. All because you were under a roof, of course, you were not as excited to cross the lawn in a minute to meet your boyfriend after his volleyball practice in this weather. Typical of you to never bring an umbrella.

You put in some coins, clicked the button and crouched down to pick up your strawberry milk before straightening up again and turning back around. Annoyingly enough, you were met with a startling wall. Two guys were standing a bit too close to just be in line for the machine, and the looks in their eyes were mischievous in a bad way. It’s the kind of eyes people say Tendo has even though all you ever see in them is endearment.

“You’re the one dating that monster, aren’t you?” one of the guys said while the other one huffed as if it was funny.

Tough extroverted reader

“Can I help you?” you asked back with a confused expression, not seeing any reason why you’d discuss your dating life with these guys. You opened the milk and took a sip before tilting your head to await their answer.

“We should be asking you that. Someone so pretty stuck with such a freak. What’s he threatening you with?” The guy kept talking, truly stepping on thin ice. You scrunched your nose and took another sip, not exactly comfortable with the situation but not wanting to leave without defending your boyfriend either.

“You jealous or something? I’ll let you know I’m perfectly happy with my dating life.” You take a step closer to the guy who apparently did all the barking. “And his name is Tendo Satori,” you said in a clear voice as if trying to burn the name into their brains. If they were going to call him a monster, it better be because of how he rules the volleyball court. You had half a mind to tell them that as well, but the moment was interrupted.

Their eyes were slowly cast in a shadow before they could respond. If only you could see the reflection in their eyes of your boyfriend’s smirk behind you. “That was pretty hot.” Tendo finally says after letting you answer them yourself. It startled you a little, before relaxing into his touch stroking down your arm. You leaned your shoulders back on his chest, a cocky smile on your face from watching the other guys lose their confidence. Tendo leaned down and obnoxiously kissed your cheek to make a point before lifting a hand towards the boys and shooing them away. “You heard them.”

“Whatever, weirdos.” They put on some tough faces that weren’t very believable, and you turned around to Satori while they scurried away. Being weirdos together definitely wasn’t that bad.

“Satorii,” you purred, happy to see him.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that. Again.” He said, obviously trying to be aloof about it, but you could see through it.

“I’m sorry too,” you said with a soft smile, knowing he knew what you meant, before grabbing his hand and tip-toeing to peck his cheek. “I thought I was meeting you?”

“I know you didn’t bring an umbrella,” he answered, finally showing a genuine smile. “My dorm? I’ll make you something sweet.”

“Yes, my prince.”

Soft introverted reader

You felt your pulse quicken with angst, eyes not meeting theirs but rather desperately hoping someone you know would pass by. “Can I help you?” you asked carefully, wishing that if they had to talk about your boyfriend behind his back, they would do it behind yours too. A blind person could see you were not the confronting type.

“We should be asking you! What kind of freak are you to be dating that?” he said, a cruel comment that didn’t make the situation any more comfortable.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you mumbled, avoidant as ever. Why would they care about your dating life anyway?

“Won’t you at least look at us with those pretty eyes, monster-lover?” the other one said, taking an unwelcomed step closer.

“He's not a monster,” you said, making an attempt at defending your boyfriend but still feeling tears brim your eyes from the confrontation.

Finally, you saw your salvation, like a stream of light finally peering through the clouds and hitting your face. The two boys were about to turn around when they saw your eyes lock on something between them, but were stopped as Tendo grabbed each of their shoulders and pulled them back, giving you space to breathe. “But I can be... if you ever make them cry,” he said in a goofy albeit frightening voice. His eyes crept from one boy to the other as if making sure the threat sank in before passing them and taking your hand to lead you away. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles while you walked before letting your hand go so he could open his umbrella and hold it above you. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” he said softly, trying to seem like he didn’t care about himself, just that you had to hear it.

“It’s okay. They were being shitheads anyways,” you huffed, anger seeping in now that you didn’t have to face them anymore.

“Ooh, language, baby.” Tendo laughed and looked down at you with adoration flowering in his eyes.

“Shut up,” you giggled, pushing your shoulder into his before tucking your arm around his closest arm so you could walk together even if he held the umbrella. Safe to say that anger dissipated quickly.

“I’ll treat you to some A-class cuddles for standing up for me like that. My dorm?”

“Yes, my love.”

masterlist

[rhas-writes]

“WE’RE JUST FRIENDS, BUT…” — WRIOTHESLEY, NEUVILLETTE, ALHAITHAM, & KAMISATO AYATO

aka the moment genshin boys realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re not “just friends” and maybe, just maybe, they’d like to be more. perhaps some day in the future they’ll tell you.

contains: female reader in all (nicknames such as madame and my lady), fluff, pining and realizing of feelings, wriothesley: mentions of fighting, blood, and injuries (pankration ring), reader is a doctor, neuvillette: mentions of being a mother figure to melusine’s (lots of melusine features!), reader works at the palais and can bake, alhaitham: drunk alhaitham, reader can cook, ayato: implied assassination attempt (canon typical yashiro commissioner life lol), reader wears a dress in and is very minimally attacked by an assassin while with him, ayato is as unhinged and low key crazy as ever, these all end with unresolved pining but they’re all very fluffy and hopeful i pinky promise

“we’re just friends, but when i see her touch anyone else, it makes my skin crawl. shouldn’t she only touch me?” — WRIOTHESLEY

you’re just doing your job, he tries to tell himself. wriothesley knows that with your line of work, not touching anyone would be next to impossible. the fortress is blessed to have such a dedicated and knowledgeable doctor to help out the head nurse, and it’s admirable that you’ve given up broad daylight and a position at any respectable hospital in fontaine to tend to patients down here.

it’s admirable, and wriothesley appreciates it more than anyone else.

but the mind thinks what it thinks, and his can’t help but think how wonderful it would be if the only shirtless man you had to cleans wounds of was himself. not that he gets many wounds—he prides himself in his ability to knock an opponent out before they land a hit, but if someone were to be shirtless on the examination table with your delicate hands dabbing at small cuts, it should be him.

he stares daggers into the small gash his gauntlets seem to have made in his former opponent, watching as you gently clean the blood with careful precision. a part of him faintly registers that he should feel bad—as the duke, it’s his responsibility to make sure he never injures anyone in a good natured tournament, but this time was an accident. and he does feel bad. just not worse than the unexplainable weight at the bottom of his stomach that makes him feel almost nauseous. why does he feel nauseous?

“you’re all good to go,” you hum softly, “i would tell you to be careful next time, but i don’t think this has much to do with you as it does with other factors.”

you shoot wriothesley a pointed look as the man shrugs on his shirt, a dazed look on his features as he thanks you over stumbled words. wriothesley’s jaw tightens—it’s clear as day this patient of yours appreciates much more than your talents as a professional.

“it was an unfortunate accident,” wriothesley mumbles, “i’ll have to be more cautious next time, my apologies.”

“all good, boss,” the man waves off, and with a polite nod to you, he’s off. finally—wriothesley doesn’t think he could’ve left any faster.

“how can you hope to lessen patients in here if you’re the one sending them over?” you turn to him, making wriothesley fight back a small frown.

it must show anyway, because you giggle and poke his cheek as you walk over, speaking in between those melodious laughs as you tell him to stop pouting.

“i’m not pouting,” he scoffs, like the sentiment is preposterous, “and it was an accident. honest.”

“yes i know, your grace,” you tease. hearing such a title doesn’t usually do anything to him, but hearing it from you makes his heart flutter a tiny bit, in a way that makes the ends of his nerves tingle and the palms of his hands sweat just a bit. “but you should be more careful with those gauntlets next time, you know.”

and then, against his every expectation, there’s a gentle and steady hand on his face, cradling it ever so slightly as you tilt his head and inspect the small bruise forming on his jawline.

“you’re hurt too,” you say in concern.

wriothesley, if he wasn’t so busy trying to still his beating heart, would have laughed at the way your face seems devastatingly worried. he would have teased you at the way the sight of blood didn’t manage to crack your steady and firm composure, but somehow, the sight of a small patch of discolored skin has.

“nah, it’s just a small thing,” he waves off, “he caught me off guard after i noticed the blood. nothing i can’t handle.”

“let me ice it,” you insist, “i don’t want it swelling.”

“i’ll be fine, doc,” he chuckles—but he finds himself pausing when you look at him almost upset. has he really upset you? he’d never want to, especially not over something so trivial.

so he sighs, walking over to the table before letting himself take a seat.

“you should take care of yourself more,” you sigh, “i see now what sigewinne means when she says you don’t look after yourself like you should.”

“ah,” he grins, trying to avoid your knowing look when he winces a little at the action when a dull ache builds in his jaw, “i suppose my refusal to drink her…unique beverages have caught up to me.”

you laugh, a sweet and innocent sound that makes something under his ribcage tickle. your hand is back to gently cradling his cheek as you tilt his head again, angling it to hold a small ice pack to the small bruise.

“you seem tense,” you say thoughtfully, “don’t feel so bad. i’m sure those guys give themselves worse in the ring here and there.”

wriothesley feels bad, he really does. he would never purposely injure someone when he’s meant to be the warden that keeps things peaceful. the memory of you tending to the man sitting in his place just a few moments ago brings back another wave of bitterness, one that’s much more fleeting this time when he tells himself that now that he’s replaced the man with himself, things aren’t so bad.

it hits him then—with your hand on his cheek and an ice pack to a comically small bruise that you fuss over, that something in him craves more than just your touch when he’s injured. it hits him that anyone can be in his position, sat in front of you as you treat minor wounds with delicate care. he doesn’t want to be like anyone, he thinks.

he wants more—something he can only have for himself. something that’s crossing the line of this comfortable friendship you’ve seemed to build.

“hey,” you say softly, pulling him from his thoughts. your thumb traces the scar under his eye as if to ground him. something tells him you don’t do that for other patients, something a bit more intimate than a doctor would be with a normal patient. “what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing, doc,” he hums lowly, eyeing you softly before he closes his eyes and lets out a soft breath. “you think my injury will be okay?” he asks with exaggerated concern.

you snort, shaking your head as you quip, “you’ll live. i hope.”

he chuckles at that. one of these days, when he’s a bit braver and a touch more in tune with his emotions about you, he’ll tell you how he feels. maybe he’ll have your touch outside of the clinic that way, something more personal, something more intimate.

“we’re just friends, but she makes me wonder what it’s like to have my own family with her. is that normal?” — NEUVILLETTE

melusines are beautiful creatures. innocent and kind by nature, and certainly small enough that it only makes them seem that much more fragile. neuvillette has always had a soft spot for the species, from the way they cheerily call him monsieur neuvillette, to the way they happily skip over to him each time they approach him.

the people of fontaine are fond of melusines too. he’s happy with the sentiment—he knows more than anyone else that things weren’t always this way. but somehow, watching you like this, smiling endearingly at the melusines in front of you as you let them pour more water into your cup, he can’t help but find more solace in this moment than any other one.

“madame,” sedene calls, “it’s lovely you could have joined us today.”

you chuckle, sweetly petting her head and taking a sip from your glass as you murmur, “it’s certainly a pleasure. though, i hope i’m not intruding, monsieur,” you look at neuvillette with a polite smile.

“no, of course not,” he returns the gesture, “on the contrary, we’re delighted to have you today.”

neuvillette regularly allows the melusines in his office in the afternoon. it starts one day when they insist he take a break, entering his office and pulling out sweets and tea to enjoy (he only drinks water, but they happily finish what he does not have.) the tradition is born ever since, a daily routine to allow himself a short break, one filled with the excited chatter of small creatures he so fondly looks over as they snack away surrounding his desk.

you happen to walk in today, with files in your hand meant to be dropped off to the iudex, pausing as you take in the sight of tiny paws reaching over his desk to grab madeleines as they chat happily. suddenly, there are one too many small voices insisting you join among the chief justice himself, and soon, you find yourself with a chair pulled over for you, sitting between sedene and neuvillette.

it’s nice, he thinks, having you join. your company is refreshing to witness as you happily indulge the melusines in their chatter.

“madame?” blathine calls, pulling a soft hum from you as you turn your gaze to her, “would you join us tomorrow as well?”

you giggle fondly, taking a small bite from a madeleine as you think for a moment. “perhaps if my schedule is free and monsieur neuvillette is not too busy…”

“i assure you it’s of no trouble to me,” he insists, “this is a bit of a…routine activity,” he chuckles as he eyes the gathered crowd around his desk.

“then i’ll certainly make time,” you grin. he feels himself soften, an unrecognizable twinge of excitement settling into his bones at the words. of course, neuvillette looks forward to the company of the melusines daily, but the added news of you joining seems to make his heart swell in a way he doesn’t normally find happening.

before he can ponder why that is, another voice captures his attention.

“madame, will you make macarons again if you join us? it’s been a while since we’ve last tried them,” kiara asks excitedly.

neuvillette watches as something brightens in you at the question, your lips tugging into a wide grin as your eyes crinkle at the edges. you nod, looking affectionately at the little heads surrounding you as they stare at you hopefully.

“if you would like, of course. i’m happy you enjoyed them.”

“you’ve baked for them before?” neuvillette asks curiously.

you open your mouth to speak, but it’s hardly possible to utter a word when so many excited voices cut in before you can.

“oh yes, madame brings us sweets whenever she makes them!” aeval chirps.

“the strawberry ones are simply divine!” he turns to elphane as she tugs his sleeve, “you must try them, monsieur.”

“the chocolate ones are my favorite. madame, would you bring those too?” liath looks hopeful, brightening as you nod sweetly.

“i hope it’s not too much trouble,” sedene looks up at you, and with another chuckle, you pat her head once more as you shake your head.

“of course not,” you say fondly, “it’s a wonderful pastime, in fact. i’ll certainly bring them tomorrow.”

“be sure not to bring too many sweets yourselves then,” neuvillette says seriously, taking a sip of his water, “you don’t want to have too much sugar and make yourselves sick. and drink plenty of water. it’s good for you.”

you look at him amusedly at his words, tips tugging wider as you say, “it seems as though you’ve taken over a fatherly figure, monsieur. it’s unexpectedly endearing, i must admit.”

“madame! madame! would that make you like a mother figure too, then?” veleda’s words make you choke on the sip of water from your own glass, pulling a surprised blink from neuvillette himself.

you both fleetingly stare at each other from the corner of your eyes before you look down, chuckling nervously as he clears his throat, hoping the flush he seems to feel coating his cheeks is not too apparent.

“well, if you would like to consider me as such, i don’t mind,” you say carefully.

the melusines giggle—for such endearing creatures, neuvillette finds they can be mischievous in their own right as well.

“monsieur, what do you think of madame being a mother figure?” blathine asks innocently, blinking up at him through doe eyes.

“i, well…it’s certainly wonderful you find comfort in her to feel—”

“does that make madame your wife?” aeval squeals, “oh, monsieur, i thought you’d never find someone!”

this time, he’s certain there’s a dust of red coating his cheeks as you laugh softly, eyeing him in a mix of sympathy and amusement.

“now, now,” you call, “monsieur neuvillette and i get along, but our relationship is strictly professional.”

he watches as the melusines giggle behind their tiny paws. he’s certainly aware of their playful schemes, but perhaps…perhaps a small part of him doesn’t mind the thought of you in a romantic light—he’s certainly not practiced in such emotions, but there’s a squeeze in his heart as he thinks about how easy it is to feel like a family with you.

his hand itches to reach and squeeze yours under the table as you laugh happily with the creatures, and faintly, he wonders if this is normal—your words are true, are they not? the relationship between you is strictly professional isn’t it?

he takes a sip of his water, unsure of what the rapid beating of his heart indicates anymore.

“we’re just friends, but i show up to her house every time i’m drunk. that doesn’t mean anything though, does it?” — ALHAITHAM

you open the door before he can even knock. his muddled brain should register that he should be embarrassed by that, but he’s too busy trying to keep his balance as he looks at you.

“oh haitham,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “i was wondering when you’d show up.”

“’m late?” he slurs, making you look at him in amusement as you gently grab his wrist and pull him in.

“did you have fun? you never stay out this long even at the tavern,” you murmur, gently helping him settle down on your couch.

there’s a glass of water waiting for him, one you delicately place to his lips and help him drink from as you sit next to him. even drunk, alhaitham can feel the searing burn of your thigh pressed against his—a heat he doesn’t mind, but it fogs his senses even more than they already are.

“beat cyno in tcg,” he says between sips, “i won.”

“good job,” you snort, “did he take it well?”

“no,” he laughs—it’s a giddy thing, one he lets out a bit more freely than his normal self would.

alhaitham is like that when he’s drunk: free and loose and something on the edge of vulnerable in a way you never get to see him. you smile at him, watching as he slumps back and sighs softly, rubbing his eyes.

“’m hungry,” he murmurs, making you roll your eyes fondly.

“i know,” you nod in amusement, “you practically eat my fridge whole every time.”

in the morning, alhaitham will be embarrassed. he’ll wake up on your soft couch and register that he’s done this again (most couches break his back, but yours somehow feels homely. soft and warm and smells like you to the point that he thinks it’s better than his own bed). he’ll tell himself that it won’t happen again next week, and that he’ll drink in moderation and force kaveh to bring him straight home—but somehow, just like the week before, he lands himself on your familiar couch, waking to the smell of coffee hitting his nose as you make it the way he likes.

it’s not a bad thing to get used to, in all truthfulness. but he’s no fool, he knows exactly what’s slowly developing in his stoic little heart, and he doesn’t think this build up of familiarity is helping his case any further. he doesn’t know if the build up exists for you either—maybe you’re just a nice enough person and good enough friend to let it all happen every week. just happy to give him a safe place to sleep the alcohol out from his system.

if he had a rational thought in his brain, maybe he’d ask you. blunt and to the point as he always is. but then again, even blunt and rational alhaitham gets bested by emotions every once in a while. especially the kind of emotions that are dangerously possible of being unrequited.

but regardless, rational alhaitham is out of the equation for now. right now, drunk, tired, hungry, and irrational alhaitham has taken over. he’ll have to worry about what drunk alhaitham does tomorrow when he’s sober, not right now.

“did you make my favorite?” he asks hopefully, almost childlike in the way his eyes peer at you as they wait for your answer.

they brighten when you nod, grinning as you say, “yes, i did. i always do, don’t i?”

“yeah,” he sighs contentedly, closing his eyes as he pulls the soft blanket you keep just for him over his body, a half-hearted attempt at covering himself as you slowly rise from his side.

the phantom linger of your thigh against his makes him realize he misses the touch, even if it clears his mind from the fog just a little to not be so near you.

“wait,” he says suddenly—you pause. he doesn’t know what’s compelled him to say that (he doesn’t know what compels him to do anything he does around you, but he’s here in this situation for that very reason, so there’s not much to be done there).

“yeah?” you say softly, waiting for him to speak.

“just…” he pauses. why did he stop you? is it because he has something to say? or is it simply because he knows as soon as you feed him dinner, he’ll pass out on your couch, and you’ll retire to your room for the night, and there will end the fleeting moment of having you all to himself? “just stay, that’s all,” he ends up saying.

archons know he’d never say that sober. it’s surprising enough as is when he’s drunk, but you don’t let the shock settle for long—endearment is quick to take over.

you snort before shaking your head, settling back down beside him as you whisper, “you’re the one who said you’re hungry.”

“i’ll eat later,” he frowns. you’re laughing at him, aren’t you? he should be embarrassed, maybe. but that touch of your thigh is back, and he can’t think straight enough to keep his sense of humility in tact.

“you know,” you murmur, delicately pushing back slightly sweaty hair from his flushed forehead, looking at him with enough care, he might think you feel the same if he wasn’t so drunk—but he’s simply too out of it to really understand what emotion your gaze holds. “if only you were as bold sober as you are drunk.”

he leans into your touch, closing his eyes and pressing into the warm embrace of your palm against his skin. it lingers—you don’t pull away any quicker than him, and the result is just a step closer that will only be two steps back by the morning.

still, the both of you enjoy it all the same.

“i’m bold all the time,” he insists.

“i wouldn’t say that,” you huff in amusement. “you don’t really speak your mind around me.”

“i do,” he argues, “i like coming here to you. you’re warm. and so is this couch. and your food’s good.”

“yeah?” you giggle, letting your fingers brush over his hair some more. he hums, nodding as he closes his eyes, yawning.

“mhm,” he barely gets out, “it’s the best part.”

“of what? drinking?”

“no,” he shakes his head, “of…of…i don’t know. just the best part.”

it’s the best part of my week, he’d tell you, if only the words could form on his tongue. he’s too blanketed by the embrace of your warmth and sleep to actually say them.

“tell me all this when you’re sober,” you whisper, tracing a thumb delicately over his cheek before you pull away, pulling the edges of the blanket along to cover him properly. he protests at the loss of your touch with a quiet sound, but sleep pulls him into its clutches quick enough that it doesn’t last too long. “maybe then, i’ll believe you when you say you’re bold all of the time.”

“we’re just friends, but i’d kill just about anyone for her if they so much as look at her weirdly. i can get away with it, can’t i?” — AYATO

ayato thinks if anyone manages to assassinate him one day, then they should be allowed to get away with it with no consequences. by now, he’s confident enough that he’s honed his abilities to be sharp. so sharp, that anyone who manages to so much as touch him is an opponent who has earned to get away with their crimes.

you, however, do not apply to this sentiment.

anyone who so much as touches you, in his eyes, is worthy of far worse than just consequences. he thinks the shogun herself could not hope to save them from his blade.

but for now, there are other pressing matters than to pursue the individual who has managed to attack you on your evening stroll with him—he’ll have the shuumatsuban swiftly investigate and handle the culprit accordingly. for now, he’s more concerned with you.

“are you alright?” he asks gently, helping you stand as you slowly take his outstretched hand. there’s a small quiver in your hand as it clasps his, and his jaw grits slightly at the fact.

“yes,” you breathe quietly, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. ayato can detect it instantly, however. he’s good at reading anyone, but especially you. “i’m alright, my lord,” you reassure.

he frowns, for more reasons than one. “ayato,” he corrects, “no need for formalities.”

“oh, ayato,” you chuckle softly, despite the earlier distress in your features, “as much as you don’t care about appearances, i mustn’t be caught addressing the yashiro commissioner so…improperly. what would people think?”

“that you’re deeply familiar to the yashiro commission,” he says simply, “as you are. it’s only the truth.”

you hum, dusting off the dirt from your dress as you inspect your clothing of any tears. ayato keeps his hand securely on yours, and it doesn’t seem as though he’s looking to let go in the current moment—you don’t necessarily take it upon yourself to remove yourself from his grasp, either.

“well, that was quite the surprise, wasn’t it?” you try to poke fun at the situation, a light attempt to diffuse the clear tension in his brows and shoulders.

ayato doesn’t answer, only taking you in carefully himself, running his eyes up and down your figure as if to make sure there are no injuries for himself. he’s still as pristine as ever, you note—although, it’s not as though the attacker was even close to touching him. he’d retaliated faster than you had even registered there was someone else in your vicinity.

the thought makes you realize how accustomed he must be to assassination attempts—a thought that makes your face drop.

and it must be apparent too, because he asks, “why the long face, all of a sudden?”

you flush in embarrassment. he’s cunning as always, that one. always one step ahead and so good at reading you, you might think he himself holds the pen that writes your every move in crisp, clear scribbles.

“nothing,” you mumble, sighing softly as you shrug, “i suppose it only just dawned on me how effortlessly you evaded such a fate. it must be a normal occurrence for the yashiro commissioner if you’re so…prepared.”

“ah,” he grins, slightly amused as he chuckles, “i suppose it is, yes. nothing to concern yourself over, on the contrary. i am very well prepared, indeed. however, i hadn’t prepared well enough for this stroll it seems, my lady. you must forgive me—next time, i’ll have the shuumatsuban keep an eye out as well.”

“i feel safe enough in your company alone, my lor—ayato,” you correct yourself as soon as you notice the smile drop from the corners of his mouth, “but i can’t help but feel regretful that it’s normal for you to assign additional help to ensure the safety of those close to you. it shouldn’t be necessary for you to be so cautious simply for holding people dear.”

“and do you feel as such?” he teases, “that i hold you dear?”

your face feels hot to the touch, you think, heat creeping to your ears as you look away and clear your throat. ayato is a quick witted man, his words as sharp as ever, meant to apply pressure to the weakest of points.

you’re no exception, it seems. though, he has a bit of a softer approach with you.

“w-well, we’re certainly not strangers,” you huff, “if someone as busy as the yashiro commissioner sets aside time to take an evening stroll with me, i would hope it’s safe to assume we’re quite dear friends.”

friend is starting to seem like a generous word. ayato is a good man, respectable and compassionate enough that he can maintain such a powerful position free of any corruption. but he realizes that respect and compassion are difficult to maintain when it comes to someone harming you.

he wonders, for a brief, fleeting moment, if he could be trusted to keep a calm composure if he were to come face to face with whoever attacked you in the future.

he thinks there’s a large chance that the answer is no, and he’s oddly not bothered by the idea at all.

“i do hold you quite dear,” he says kindly, voice softening an octave, “it is why i must ensure your safety. rest assured, events like today’s won’t happen again.”

“i hope you put as much energy into your own safety,” you counter, “i think inazuma would suffer more greatly if anything were to happen to you, rather than me.”

“i would disagree,” he says with an amused grin, “what disarray the nation would befall if the yashiro commissioner was grief stricken, don’t you think? unable to perform his duties.”

“would you grieve me so deeply, ayato?” it’s your turn to tease, stepping closer as you eye him with playful mischief, “would my absence alone call for the downfall of the nation? then it would only be proper of me to look after myself more carefully, if that’s the case.”

“yes,” he says softly, hesitant for a moment as though admitting as such is enough to admit the more…complicated feelings in his heart. “there is nothing i wouldn’t do to ensure your safety.”

he says the words a touch too seriously—it shocks even him. surely, if limits simply don’t exist if it comes to you, friend is not a term deep enough to truly describe what you are to him.

he wonders if friend feels as much of an injustice to your relationship to you as it does to him.

“i would grieve you too, ayato,” you admit, squeezing the hand he never pulled away, “would you keep yourself safe just for me?”

“do you doubt me?” he chuckles, raising an eyebrow, “i’ve never failed thus far, have i?”

“perhaps not,” you hum, stepping closer, “but just to be sure.”

“then for you,” he carefully pulls you along, falling back into step with you as his hand keeps yours still firmly in his grasp, “i will ensure my own wellbeing just as sacredly as yours.”

someone revoke my access to the word “fond” this instant. i think i got whiplash from how often i used it but i literally don’t know what other word describes “fond” as good as “fond” 😭 anyway!!! kamisato “i would draw my blade to the shogun herself for my love” ayato!!! what a man!!!

[rhas-writes]

if i had a flower for every time i thought of you, i could walk through my garden endlessly. | alhaitham x reader, sfw ── wc : 571

al haitham's walks are practical. they are never for fun, nor the love for sunshine or feeling the grass beneath his feet – his feet always have a place in mind. they take him where he needs to be. they had never walked with the lightness of romanticisation, nor with the whimsy or delightful for the fun of it –

– until you.

he's lighter– happier, even, now that this angel of a person sits across him with the most darling smile to grace his presence.

"would you care to accompany me on a walk?" al haitham asks one day, and he turns to meet your curious gaze. he can see a flicker of hope

"you'd like to go on a walk?" you push yourself off your seat at the counter. "i don't mind accompanying you."

"is it truly that surprising?" a soft sigh parts his lips – he looks almost disappointed, even. you tiptoe to press a sweet kiss to his cheek, smiling as you watch his features turn upwards in quiet delight.

ask him a year ago if he desired anything like this, and he might have scoffed lightly and turned away.

"no," you giggle and set your heels down. "i guess it's just not something you see every day."

silently, you grab his hand – it's so much bigger than yours – and you can feel him squeeze it a just little tighter today. his hands are warm and big, rough and calloused but they also fit perfectly with the curve of your hands. it's perfect.

al haitham looks happier, you think to yourself as the grass beneath your feet greets you with a gentle hello. the flowers sway in the afternoon breeze, and the sun seems to hide away a little, in fear of burning you – it's so pleasant outside today... perhaps he's in a good mood because of that?

you watch him as he hums softly, peering at the prettysome wildflowers below.

"come here, darling," he motions, pointing you to look towards the flowers that sprouted up.

"there's so many, hayi. it's beautiful." you gasp softly, grasping onto his fingers tenderly.

he smiles, and mumbles something under his breath.

"what was that?" you tug on his arm, looking into his eyes. he looks almost embarrassed to say it louder. he clears his throat and glances back at the wildflowers.

"if i had a flower for every time i thought of you, i could walk through my garden endlessly."

you're standing there, pleasantly surprised– shocked, even– into silence. did you hear that right?

"eh?" is the only thing that leaves your lips.

"..forget i said anything, it's alright." al-haitham pats your head, albeit awkwardly – flushed and maybe the tiniest bit embarrassed.

he silently wishes he hadn't said anything at all– silly alhaitham, who was he for thinking that someone of his demeanour would ever pepper his words with that like a lovesick fool?

"nooooo, al haitham!" you whine softly, nuzzling against his shoulder. "that was so sweet! i was just .. taken aback, with how sweet your words were."

"is it not obvious enough how infatuated i am with you?" he rests his head atop yours, breathing lightly and lovingly squeezing you tighter.

the next thing he feels is a gentle, saccharine sweet kiss being pressed against his lips – he's hungry for more, now, ravenous even – like a monster yearning for an ounce of love. maybe he wouldn't mind being the lovesick fool, just this once, if it was you.

[rhas-writes]

plum

790

things borrowed and things given

for @iwahji. iwaizumi x f!reader, not canon compliant (iwaizumi goes to university with makki, mattsun, and reader).

“What the hell is that?” Hanamaki asks about two seconds after you sit down. 

His spoon clatters against the edge of his bowl, sending droplets of broth all across the table and somehow, on your left cheek. You, somehow unperturbed, simply wrinkle your nose and dab at the wetness with a napkin from the stack you’d piled on your tray. 

“You don’t like the taro buns?” you ask, ripping open the paper wrapping of your chopsticks. 

“No,” he says, not even bothering to swallow his mouthful of noodles. “‘m talking about what you’re wearing.” 

You blink. Two more pairs of eyes are suddenly on you and one frowns. 

“It’s just a hoodie,” you say, but you know there’s no reasoning your way out of this; he’s already sensed blood.

“Yeah,” he says primly, “but it’s not your hoodie.” 

“I’m borrowing it.”

“From who?” Matsukawa pipes up, feeding into the madness. 

“Just some guy in my study group.” You fold the paper neatly. 

Beside Matsukawa, Iwaizumi remains silent. He looks up, dark eyes meeting yours before he pointedly glances away. There’s a twinge in your chest; something like annoyance but not quite. Something like guilt, but not quite. 

“Some guy on the varsity swim team?” Hanamaki continues to pry. Matsukawa is leaning forward now, hand under his chin as he takes a long, exaggerated sip of his drink. 

“I think he swims,” you shrug. “I mean,” you pull at the loose collar, “it does kind of smell like chlorine.” 

Iwaizumi clicks his tongue, but only you turn to look at him. 

Hanamaki smirks. “Are you guys—?” 

“No.”

“Then why…?”

“We were done late last night,” you sigh, wondering if you’ll even get the chance to finish lunch. 

“It was cold and I was only wearing a tank top so he’d offered because I was going to be walking back to my place.” Not that you truly believe they’ll be satisfied with this explanation.

“You walked home by yourself last night?” Iwaizumi’s abrupt entrance into the conversation is harsher than you think is warranted. 

“It’s like five minutes,” you say, wringing your wrists. The crease between his brow only deepens. 

“Yeah, why didn’t Michael Phelps walk you home?”

Your shoulders drop and the corner of your lips pull into a pout. “I don’t know. I think he was going the other way.”

“Well then maybe he’s not that into her,” Matsukawa reasons like you’re not sitting right there. 

Hanamaki sighs into a mouthful of pudding. “Maybe not.”

The topic quickly gets stale after that and they move onto a spirited discussion about whether or not their Intro to Linguistics prof is in a cult (Hanamaki thinks he is, Matsukawa thinks he’s the one leading the cult), but Iwaizumi remains quiet throughout. 

“Hey,” he says later, when it’s just the two of you. “You’re going to return that right?” 

You blink up at him, fingers pulling at the worn cuff of your borrowed sweater. The Adam’s apple in his throat bobs. 

In the months that you’ve known Iwaizumi, you’ve only known him to mind his own business. This, in contrast with the drama-mongering of Hanamaki and Matsukawa, was something you’d admired immensely about him: there was his business (whatever that was), your business (untouched), and the few friendships that bridged the two, like circles that just barely overlapped. 

But now, as you stand in the empty hallway of a seventy-year old engineering building, with the lights flickering above your heads, you feel him encroaching upon your circle. Mysteriously, it’s less of an intrusion than you’d expect.

“Of course,” you say. “It’s not mine, after all.” You turn over the concept of possession in your head: mine, yours, ours. From the past and present of your friendship, how did the lines begin to get so blurry?

“Good,” he mumbles, eyes cast downward as he plants himself firmly into the territory of your circle. He reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. 

“And the next time you’re going to walk home at night, you should call me,” he says, earnestly. 

“It was only—” 

“It doesn’t matter,” he insists. “I’ll get you, just—just call me, okay?” 

Not Hanamaki. Not Matsukawa. Just him. 

You look up at Iwaizumi. The crease in his brow darkens his stare, but there’s something tender in the way he holds your gaze; something soft that searches for the overlap between the two of you and obfuscates the figurative edges. 

“I’ll bring you one of my sweaters too,” he says. “For when you’re cold.” 

You consider possession again. 

“Are you giving it to me to borrow?” 

Iwaizumi leans down. “No, I’ll give it to you for you to keep.”

Mine, yours, ours, and somehow, all of the above. 

[rhas-writes]

For you, I think I would learn how to love

For my lovely anon who asked for husband Neuvillette, I bring you a whole fic. This man has me in a chokehold and I need everyone to know how much I love him.

Pairing: Neuvillette x fem! Reader Word Count: ~7k

Summary: Tired of waiting for you to find a husband, your parents find one for you. One who happens to be the Chief Justice of Fontaine. A new city, a new life, a new husband. So much new, and you could only hope, deep in your heart, that you would find happiness and love in Fontaine.

The first time you meet him, it's rather formal.

It's not as though you have much of an option. Though you certainly couldn't say you expected when you woke up to be told that your parents had found a husband for you, and that you'd be married in a week.

They had been pushing marriage lately, saying you were the right age, but the thought had been far from your mind. You thought you still had time, and the next thing you knew, you were being brought to Fontaine.

It's certainly different from Liyue. The hills and mountains are different from the Stone Forrest. The air feels different, there's water heavy in it.

You wait, in an ornate room that feels much too fancy. You've been left alone for a brief moment, the most your parents have allowed since you were told the news.

Part of you wonders if you could escape if you jumped out the window. A quick glance told you that it was much too high to entertain that idea. You'd end up breaking a leg before you got out of this marriage.

The door opens. A man appears, with long white hair with blue streaks in it. Simply from his appearance, you can tell that this is someone important. Your spine straightens as sharp eyes land on you, zeroing in on you.

You felt small, for a moment. As though he was judging you for simply existing in a space you'd rather not be in. Though your parents didn't care if you had plans or wished to find a husband on your own.

The man doesn't say anything. He closes the door behind him with a click, and makes his way over to you. Despite the desire to shrink back, you stand your ground, until he finally stands before you.

Up close you can see more details. He towers over you in height, but you suppose most people would feel short compared to him. His eyes capture your attention the most, the pupils such a strange shape, but gorgeous nevertheless.

"I apologize for leaving you waiting," he starts, almost looking as lost as you on how to start.

You wave your hands frantically in front of you. "It's fine! I didn't expect anyone to come in. I was told I would be meeting-"

Saying future husband felt much too strange. The man in front of you notices your pause, and arches a single silver brow. You frantically try to remember the name of the man who is meant to be your fiance.

"Ah, sorry, I was meant to meet a Mister Neuvillette?" your voice stumbles awkwardly over the new word, still struggling with the accent.

On the trip to Fontaine, your parents had tried to give you lessons on the language, as though you would become fluent in the few hours it took to travel.

The man blinks. And then he blinks again, as though he's trying to figure out what you just said.

Apparently the lessons hadn't worked.

"Sorry, my accent needs work," you apologize. "I hear he's the Chief Justice?"

The man nods, slowly. "That is correct."

You hum, non-committal, waiting to see if your company decides to keep the conversation going. When he doesn't, you find yourself unable to think of words.

Well, this felt awkward. And from the way the man still seemed at a loss for words, he also felt the same.

The tension could almost cut a knife.

He clears his throat after a moment, the sound almost makes you jump.

"Yes, well..." he pauses, gesturing towards the couch. "I am sure monsieur Neuvillette will be here soon."

You take a seat near him. Not close enough to be inappropriate, but close enough that it would be clear that you were talking.  Maybe "monsieur Neuvillette" will see the two of you and decide that this marriage wasn't something he wanted a part of.

"Congratulations on your engagement," your new friend tells you after a moment. You give him a tight lipped smile.

"Thanks."

Once again, silence descends over you two. You fidget with your skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles from travel. Hopefully, it wasn't something your new husband would be upset about.

At least the silence didn't feel as oppressive this time. You let yourself relax, taking a deep, steadying breath.

"Can I ask you something?"

The man beside you nods. You still haven't gotten his name yet, you realize. You'd have to ask later, after some other questions. Who knows when your parents and future husband will be coming.

"Um...how is Neuvillette?" you tentatively ask, to which you only receive a rather blank, if not curious look.

You suppose you'll have to be more direct. Though it almost pains you.

But at least, if he's not kind, you would like a warning. Some way to prepare yourself for what the rest of your life is going to be like. Some women, they don't even get that. They were woken up on the day of their wedding, and the rest of their lives was at the whims of their husbands.

You steel yourself, and fully turn your attention to your friend.

"Is he kind?"

Something in him softens at that. He looks at you with an emotion that you can't recognize in that moment. Pity, maybe?

He opens his mouth, but before you can get your answer, the door opens.

Your parents lean in for a moment, see you sitting on the couch, talking to a stranger, but strangely have nothing bad to say about that. In fact, they look delighted.

"Are you two getting along well?" your mother asks you, somewhat reminding you of a cat just having caught a bird.

The satisfaction on her face made you uneasy, like there was a secret you were missing.

"Fine, thank you," your friend replied for you when you couldn't manage words. "Your daughter is very polite."

Your parents beam at that. The uneasy feeling in your stomach gets worse.

"Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette."

Somehow, it hadn't dawned on you. Your stomach feels like it falls into the floor, but Neuvillette doesn't seem to have any other reaction, looking at your parents. They don't even wither under his stare.

You never wanted to shrink into the floor more. You had just asked your future husband about himself. And more than that, you asked him if he was kind.

Your parents talk with Neuvillette, allowing you a moment to feel invisible and wallow in your self-pity and embarrassment.

At least, until you feel a small tug on the sleeve of your blouse.

It's one of the melusines, you had found them to be very cute upon first seeing them. Your parents hadn't explained much about them, so you found yourself blinking down at the small melusine.

"He is," she says to you, nodding.

You tilt your head to the side. Briefly, you feel eyes on you, but when you look at your parents, they're still talking to Neuvillette, and taking his attention.

"He's what?"

She hands you a long ribbon. It's a deep, ocean blue, the same color that Neuvillette is wearing.

"He is kind," she explains, patiently, as though you were a child. "I heard you ask."

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, especially as she climbed up next to you, weaving the ribbon through your hair, and both your parents and Neuvillette turned to stare.

"Y/N, that is very rude to ask," your mother scolds, because that is the lot of women in life, only to worry about when men think of you and what might make you undesirable. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"Nonsense, it is a very reasonable question to ask. Why wouldn't someone want to know who they're marrying?" Neuvillette cuts in, before your mother can scold you any more.

Your parents fall silent, nodding their heads in agreement as though they hadn't been about to lecture you like a child. You would have laughed if it wasn't for the Melusine finishing with your hair.

"There," she says, with her self imposed job done. "Will you be having a wedding?"

You weren't sure your heart could take any more surprises today. Your cheeks hadn't even lost their blush from the first moment, at this point you didn't think they'd ever go back to their normal color.

"We'll have to see," you murmur, because you weren't completely sure yourself.

She nods, taking in your word and opinion as though it was law. Neuvillette didn't contradict you either, but did finally turn back to your parents.

You don't get too much of a chance to participate in most of the conversation. The Melusine, Sedene, as you learned the name of, asks you more questions that keep you occupied.

It's a welcome distraction. It's better than awkwardly listening to a conversation about your future where at least two of the three people here wouldn't even care for your input.

The jury was still out on Neuvillette.

Eventually though, it grew late, late enough that Sedene was sleeping with her head on your lap. It seemed that finally the other three were tired of negotiating over your life.

Before you knew it, you looked up from your lap just in time to see Neuvillette leave without even a goodbye, the door clicking behind him. Your parents look much too pleased with themselves, which you somehow didn't think was possible.

"I told you, the match would be a good one," your mother tells your father, pride seeping into her voice.

You're not so sure. You can't be sure. At least not yet.

"Yes," your father agrees, with the same fond voice he always had when he didn't want to argue with your mother, and it's easier just to agree.

It seems, just like the foundation of Liyue, that your future is set in stone.

You hope Fontaine will be kind to you.

-x-x-x-x-

You do not have a wedding.

It's actually fine with you. More than fine, really. Apparently as Chief Justice of Fontaine, Neuvillette is well liked and popular. The amount of people you'd have to invite to the wedding would be too many for you.

So you simply don't. You sign a document and in the eyes of the law, and of Neuvillette, that is enough.

Though a part of you aches that you will never have the traditional Liyuen wedding you dreamed of as a child. But you suppose that dreams of childhood should stay there.

You move into Neuvillette's home. Fontaine comes as a culture shock, almost.

The amount of times you get absolutely lost in this fish-bowl of a city manages to astound even you.

It's not your fault, really. Liyue Harbor is easy to navigate, warm and welcoming. In Fontaine, the streets all somehow manage to look the same, though the shops sell things you never even thought of. At some point, you're pretty sure you even see a woman standing outside of a building with a mechanical bird.

You end up seeing other Melusines more than your new husband. You don't really blame him for this, his job is important and needed, so each day he bids you a single "good morning" along with a look you couldn't decipher, as he heads to the Opera House.

That's a whole other thing about Fontaine that you still haven't investigated.

It's not as though you're upset that you don't see Neuvillette often. But he is one of the few people that you know here, and it doesn't take long for you to be lonely in the new city, without any of your friends.

Though you find the Meluine's to be kind. They help you when you get lost, and press small gifts into your palms as they take your hands to lead you around.

They tell you to tell Neuvillette to take some time off work. To spend some time with you. You nod and agree that you'll tell him the next time you see him.

But when the man quickly leaves in the morning and doesn't return until late, you never really get a chance to.

If you didn't know any better, you would have thought he'd been avoiding you.

It's like that for almost a month. He says good morning, disappears, and you wander the city to familiarize yourself with it. He never comes home until the sun has almost set, and night is almost there, while you wander until the rain finally starts for the day.

You asked the Melusine's about it once, commenting that there wasn't so much rain in Liyue. They tell you of the hydro dragon and the tears it cries. You hope that someday you will get to meet this dragon and see what makes them so sad.

At least, it stays like that until it doesn't, as most things tend to do.

You were lost, which wasn't too much of a surprise, but unlike the times before, there were no Melusine's to bring you back home or to a place you knew. The rain had started earlier today, earlier than anyone seemed to expect, and before you knew it, you were huddled in an alley, your clothing absolutely soaked and shivers running down your spine from the wet and the cold.

You missed Liyue. You missed your friends, your parents, you missed the smells and sounds of the harbor. Tears burned in your eyes and mixed with the rain on your cheeks.

Standing there simply isn't going to fix things though, so you eventually left your small, but dry, protection, and decided to finally figure out this city.

Your confidence fades the longer you walk around.

It takes almost two hours of wandering around in the rain until you finally recognize something. Not the path home, but to the first place you ever meet Neuvillette, despite not knowing at the time.

You push open the door. It's late, though that doesn't seem to mean the place is devoid of life. Wrapping shaking arms around yourself, you spot a sliver of light coming from Neuvillette's office.

It felt much too late to be working, but perhaps it was Sedene, fixing up things. Tentatively, you knock on the door, and the faint scratching of a pen against paper suddenly stopped.

Suddenly, this felt like a mistake. You took a single step back, but before you could change your mind and leave, the door swung open and Neuvillette stood there, a look of mild concern on his face.

Neither of you spoke. Neuvillette looks you up and down, brows furrowing, and you realize all at once that you must look like a sight, absolutely soaked and dripping water on the floor. If you weren't so cold, your cheeks would be flushed.

"Why are you here?" he asks, glancing around as though that would provide him with the answer.

Your shoulders slump. You can't really explain why. Maybe it's the disappointment  at the sight of you, or the lack of a warm welcome. Not 'what happened to you' or 'why are you soaking wet' but instead a question that felt almost like he questioning your presence in general.

"I-um," you stutter through chattering teeth, "I got lost and didn't know where to go."

That felt like an understatement of what happened, but you weren't sure how else to answer the question.

Neuvillette didn't seem to know either.

When he didn't say anything more, you shifted from foot to foot, wincing at the cold and the squish of wetness. You'd be lucky if you didn't get sick, after this.

"You got lost?" he finally asks, as though the concept was foreign to him.

You don't know what to say, so you shrug, peering around him. It seemed Sedene had already left for today, and there went your hope for an escort home.

"The streets all look the same to me," you manage, shivering again. "Uh-you can just tell me which way to go, and I'll get out of your hair. I didn't mean to be a bother."

"And why didn't you ask anyone for help? Anyone could have told you where I live."

The question almost comes out cold, for how logical it is. You huff, a small noise of frustration. All you wanted at the moment was to get out of these wet clothes and to be warm again. But it seems that isn't going to happen any time soon.

"Never mind," you murmur, suddenly so tired. Of course he wouldn't understand why you wouldn't want to ask for help. Your Fontainian was still in it's learning stage, and while you could ask a couple of questions with a thick accent, you had no idea how to ask someone to lead you home.

Plus, wouldn't it reflect badly on him, to have a wife who didn't even know how to return home? But you supposed, if it didn't matter to him, then it shouldn't matter to you.

"I'll see you at home, then," you murmur, turning on your heel to leave.

It was the last thing you wanted to do at the moment. The rain seemed to be coming down even harder, you could hear the thunderous roar of rain against the roof as you went to the main door.

A little more rain wouldn't hurt, and you were pretty sure you knew the way home from here.

You step out into the rain, but surprisingly, you don't get any wetter than before. The rain hits something above you, and you glance up to see an umbrella.

Neuvillette stands slightly behind you, umbrella extended over you. You still hadn't stopped shivering, teeth clattering together. Neuvillette almost looks pained as he looks down at you.

"You'll catch your death out here," he says, as though that explains everything.

And then, in true Fontaine fashion, he extends his arm out to you to link your own through, a true and proper escort.

You take it, if only for the stability. And maybe the warmth. And also the umbrella is hardly big enough for two, if you don't stand close, then Neuvillette would get wet as well.

That's the only reason.

He makes quick work of the walk home, and you were almost dismayed by how close you had been the entire time. By the time you walk up the steps, still shivering from  the cold, the rain had finally stopped, the sky clearing to reveal the stars.

"I shall make you something to eat while you dry off," he says, as though it is the law of the land.

You wonder if that is how he sounds in court, when he's trying the cases. You almost want to argue just for the sake of it.

But being dry and having a warm meal sounds much too good to ignore, so you only nod, and go to change your clothes. You debate on taking a bath, the call of the warm water ends up being much too tempting for you.

You emerge feeling like a new person. The water washes away the feelings of the day, and the coldness in your bones. You emerge feeling like a new person, if not a bit more tired and ready for bed than before.

Neuvillette is true to his words. Your hair drips with water as you peek into the kitchen, only to find him sitting at the table, waiting, with two bowls of soup in front of him.

"Come," he says when you don't move forward. You do as asked, sitting beside him and inhaling the rich aroma of the soup.

You had found here that the food varied greatly from what you were used to in Liyue. It certainly wasn't bad, but it was an adjustment. Even the soup was a bit creamier than you were used to, but you ate it eagerly, allowing it to chase away whatever lingering chills the bath hadn't rid you of.

"I'd like to apologize," Neuvillette starts, his own food barely touched, like it's an afterthought for him.

You tilt your head, exhaustion falling over you from the soup and warmth. "For what?"

He looks embarrassed. It's a rather cute look on the normally stoic man. Neuvillette struggles for words, almost seeming to give the words spoken to you the same value that he gives to the court.

"I was not aware that you were struggling to adjust here, I should have foreseen such an event occurring."

He almost looks upset, suddenly. You understand, at least you think you understand. It must be hard having a wife who couldn't even navigate the city of your home.

"It's okay, I'll do better in the future," you reassure, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder as you stand.

It's the first bit of contact you've had since you were married and he placed a kiss upon your cheek at your parents badgering. He looks a bit annoyed though, so you retract your hand to not make him more uncomfortable.

"That's not what I meant. I meant that I should have been here to help you adjust."

"Oh," you say, honestly confused. "it's alright. You're very important here, I don't want to be a bother when you're so busy."

Your words seem to have the opposite of your intended desire. If anything, he looks more upset, leaving you with a rather sour taste in your mouth.

You seemed to be more of an inconvenience than you had even considered.

You hoped this wouldn't turn into an argument. You were tired from wandering and walking for hours, from being caught out in the rain. You rested your head on your hand, trying to think of something to say.

Before your tired mind could think of anything, Neuvillette sighed, a long suffering thing that sounded much older than he must be.

"You should go to bed."

You don't need to be told twice. You take your dish to the sink, leaving it there to be washed by you in the morning. Neuvillette rises, though it seems more to see you off than to actually leave.

"Good night, y/n," he says quietly, still as upset as before.

"Good night, monsieur Neuvillette."

You fall asleep as soon as you're tucked underneath the covers of your bed. You wonder if it's the bed that you're meant to share with your husband, but he never joins you.

And that's fine with you.

-x-x-x-x-

He's still there, in the morning.

It's a sight that makes you freeze coming out of your bedroom, just able enough to peek down the hall and see him in the same place as last night, at the kitchen table. He holds the paper in his hands, the same one that you've seen just about everyone in Fontaine obsessed with.

Did you wake up early? A quick glance at the time told you no, that in fact you had woken up later than normal. Neuvillette was meant to be long gone by now, off to court.

As though sensing your stare, the paper falls, and startling purple eyes lock onto you.

"Ah, you're awake."

You nod, because what else are you going to do? Neuvillette folds the paper back into its  original shape.

"Let me know when you are ready to leave."

Well, you couldn't say you expected that to happen. You nod after a second, before disappearing to get yourself ready.

While you don't look your best, at least you aren't soaked and shaking. Really, the amount of time that you've spent with Neuvillette could be counted on one hand, and you did not like the thought of one of those times being when you were in such a sorry state.

A little bit later, you were back by Neuvillette, looking at him with nothing short of confusion as he prepares to leave.

Oh, the disappointment aches for a moment. Like a child being promised a treat only to have it taken away.

"Well? Come along then."

His voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You take a few, tentative steps forward, until he offers you his hand.

You take it, after a moment, brows furrowed with confusion.

"Don't you have court to attend to?" you ask, as he leads you outside.

"I have sent notice that I will be taking today off. I have recently become aware that my wife needs a tour of Fontaine, and I consider that a much more pressing item on my agenda."

Your cheeks color. You can't tell if it's at being called Neuvillette's wife, or from how he doesn't let go of your hand even when you walk outside.

Before you can ask him if he's sure, if he can really take time off, Neuvillette gestures down the street, and begins what has to be one of the most in depth tours of Fontaine to exist.

This time, getting lost in the sights and sounds is fun. Neuvillette explains every building you pass, the history behind it, and what is happening there now. He lets you pull him in random directions when something catches your eye, and answers every question that you can even think of.

It's fun. Neuvillette is well liked by the people, and suddenly that seems to mean you're well liked as well. The food vendors give you free samples, pressing them into your palm and insisting that you take it despite your protests.

Even the Melusine's stop, chatting with you more than Neuvilllette, much to his surprise. He even comments that you know their names, and seems very ashamed when you point out that you've spent more  time with them instead of him.

You feel like you can actually navigate the city, by the time the sun is setting. Your bones ache from the exhaustion that the excitement has left you with. When Neuvillette notices, he starts herding you home, despite your protests.

The last thing you want is for the day to end. Going back to how it was before seems unbearable now that you know how it could be. If Neuvillette knows of your plight, he says nothing of it.

He simply wishes you a good night, and lets you head to bed.

If it's a dream, you hope that you will remember every detail of it.

-x-x-x-x-

Things don't change after that, much to your relief.

Neuvillette stays in the morning, talking with you sometimes. Most of the time he reads, while you make coffee for yourself, and subsequently him. He likes it with two sugars, no milk.

The information feels nice to have. Especially when, on the very, very rare occasions you wake up before him, you can have a hot cup of coffee waiting for him.

The little things before you grow before anything else. Conversations in the morning. Coffee. Neuvillette bringing you home treats that you love, especially the conch madeleines.

There are other things, as well. When you mention missing a certain dish from Liyue, Neuvillette goes out of his way to procure it for you. You're not sure how he manages to do it, but if it means you can get slow cooked bamboo shoot soup whenever you like, then you're happy not to know.

He comes home earlier, as well. As soon as the case is done for the day, it feels like he's on his way to find you. You're happy to do just that, telling him of everything you managed to do during the day, or whatever else is going on in your head that you want to share.

Neuvillette always listens. And he remembers. You mention once, in an off handed comment, about how beautiful you thought the rainbow roses of Fontaine were.

The next day, you woke up to a bouquet of them at your bedside.

You do your best to return the favor, going to collect him at the Opera house when his day is finished.

When you were younger, you read stories of people falling in love instantly, with a single look and it was easy from there.

You think now, as a married woman, that the stories are wrong. Love comes in the small gestures, in the moments spent together.

-x-x-x-x-

It's pouring rain outside. A heavy downpour that has been going on for the last hour.

It's also the time Neuvillette normally comes home, but it doesn't seem that way today. The change in routine throws you off more than you'd like to admit.

You wait another half hour before you grab your cloak, a heavy thing that Neuvillette insisted on buying you so you wouldn't get soaked in the rain any longer, and head out to the Opera House.

You're not too fond of the aquabuses here. They're faster than walking, but something about them feels so awkwardly slow. But with a bit of tension in your shoulders, you bite down the complaints and make small talk with the Melusine piloting the aquabus as you arrive.

Neuvillette only took you over here once, to show you the Fountain of Lucine. You suppose, on another level, it was also to make sure that you knew where the Opera House was in case you needed him and didn't want to get lost.

You're thankful for his planning.

Everyone else has already left, except for a very dedicated couple by the fountain, praying for blessings upon their child. You wonder if someday that will be you, but dismiss the thought with a blush.

It takes you much too long to find Neuvillette. For a man who cuts such an imposing figure, you wander around in the rain looking for him for much longer than needed. Eventually though, you find him at the back of the Opera House, standing in the rain as though he doesn't notice it.

"Neuvillette?" you call, quiet, as to not startle him. It seems you do so anyways, from how he jumps. "Are you alright?"

He nods, but doesn't speak. You reach out to take a gloved hand, everything about him feels cold.

You lead him back home, and he follows you as though he has no mind for anything else. It takes too long to get home but also not enough time. You hold his hand the entire way.

"Was court today rough?" you finally ask, when you're in the security of your shared home. Neuvillette lets out a hum, not agreeing but not disagreeing either.

You usher him to the bathroom to clean himself up, and go to make something warm, when the irony of the situation hits you all at once, because it must have only been a few months ago that Neuvillette did the same thing for you.

It felt nice to have the roles  switched.

 Neuvillette doesn't seem hungry, so you usher him into your own bed, since truthfully you've been suspicious that he's been sleeping on the couch or at his desk in his office to prevent you from feeling uncomfortable.

You sit down, and urge him to lay his head in your lap. You brush your fingers through his slightly damp hair, and you hum a Liyuen lullaby your mother used to sing to you.

Neuvillette never talks about court. You asked him once and only once about it, curious since everyone in Fontaine seemed to think that the cases were some kind of show. But Neuvillette had simply said that it was very usual, and not worth discussing.

At the time, you took him at his word. Now though, you wonder if it's something more.

"I believe an innocent man was sentenced today," Neuvillette says, after a moment. His voice is so soft, you almost can't hear it under the pouring rain outside.

"Is that so?" you ask, a silent prompt. Does he want to continue? Or leave it there?

He sighs after only a second, pressing further against your hand in his hair. Like a cat seeing attention.

"I'm sure it will be resolved soon, I simply need to investigate things more."

You nod, remaining silent. Neuvillette doesn't explain more, but eventually, as his breathing evens out, the rain comes to a stop outside.

You can't bring yourself to move. It would no doubt wake up Neuvillette, and that seemed like the last thing anyone needed. So you settled amongst the pillows, and close your eyes.

If you wake up tomorrow, still close to another and sleepy limbs tangled together, you said nothing of it. Neither does Neuvillette.

After that though, your bed becomes just the bed, and you're not opposed to that at all.

-x-x-x-x-

The Fountain of Lucine ends up being one of your favorite places in Fontaine. Not for any particular reason, you tell yourself, it's simply pretty to look at.

And that's not a lie. It is pretty to look at, and it's fun to visit and listen to expecting parents wish for good things for their children. It was nice to see the sights and sounds without the hustle and bustle of the city.

The first time you end up going out though, you can't say you had the most pleasant experience.

You had gotten the idea in your head, perhaps you were too bored lately, that you should visit Neuvillette at work and bring him lunch. So you packed a small bag, and made the journey.

Only to be stopped at the entrance of the Opera House by one of the gardes.

"Court is in session, no one is allowed in, miss, without a ticket."

Your head tilts to the side, truly puzzled. A ticket? People bought tickets to court, as though it was a show?

"I'm not going to see the court, I came to drop something off for Neuvillette," you explain to the man, holding up the small box.

The man eyes it with a bit of suspicion, and part of you almost wants to ask if he really thinks you've poisoned it. Another part of you is sure that if you ask, you will absolutely get accused of that.

"That's nice, miss, but you still can't go in. I'm sure you know monsieur Neuvillette has many admirers, and we can't stop court simply because you wish to give him a gift."

Wow. You weren't even sure how to unpack that. You crossed your arms over your chest, not budging.

"I am his wife, here to bring him lunch. Do you want to explain to Neuvillette tomorrow about how you banned his wife from visiting him.?"

The man, you still haven't even gotten his name yet, isn't looking at you any more. He's looking behind you, a look of mild panic on his face.

Oh, this was going to be just like one of those soap operas back in Liyue, wasn't it? You knew without looking who was going to be there.

"Monsieur Neuvillette!" he said, giving the salute of Fontaine. "I was just telling this young woman that we do not allow visitors during court."

"That is true," Neuvillette says, you can almost hear a bit of smile in his voice. "However, I think I can make an exception for my wife. Thank you though, I will handle it from here."

The man scurries away before you can say anything. If he had a tail, it would have been between his legs.

"I think you scared him," you said, turning to your husband.

You ignore your racing heart at hearing Neuvillette call you his wife for the first time. You couldn't stop the smile from spreading on your face though.

"I think if anyone scared him between the two of us, my dear, it was you," he muses, and yes, it is amusement you can hear in his voice.

You two stand there, smiling at each other for a moment before you remember just why you made the journey out here.

"Oh, I brought you lunch." You place the small package in his hand. "I'm sure you're busy here and I wanted to make sure you were eating. I didn't know I needed a ticket to get inside. How did you know I was here?"

"Ah, Aeife told me you had arrive, and I suspected that you would encounter a problem."

He gestures to the side, and sure enough, the small Melusine is there. She gives you a wave before going back to skipping and offering help to those who need it

"She's sweet."

"She is," Neuvillette agrees. "I think most of them like you more than me."

"Who wouldn't like me?"

The smile Neuvillette gives you almost makes you blush, but you barely manage to get a hold of yourself.

"Yes, they'd be fools not to like you."

And now you were blushing. You gently swatted Neuvillette's arm, and only received a chuckle for your antics.

"Thank you," Neuvillette says, genuinely. "I must return now, but I appreciate the thought."

A tiny sliver of disappointment ran through you, but you pushed it down, nodding your head. "Of course, of course. Don't let me keep you. Off you go now."

You made a little shooing motion, the smile on your face letting him know you were simply teasing. But he didn't leave.

"Any time you wish to come and see me, there will always be a ticket waiting for you at the booth." He gestures to the sales booth, which very much looked closed, but you didn't say that. "I'll be sure to tell you the next time Lyney and Lynette do their show."

You visibly perked up, which gained you a small chuckle. You hadn't been shy about saying you wanted to see the show, though apparently it was impossible to find tickets to it.

"Thank you, I'll be sure to take you up on that."

You stood up on your tip toes, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. He seems surprised at the touch, but after a moment manages to compose himself, saying a quick goodbye before returning to work.

Aefie tugged at your skirt, a gentle motion almost as soft as a breeze. You knelt down to her level, allowing her to whisper in your ear.

"Thank you for making Neuvillette so happy."

-x-x-x-x-

You fell a lot, as a child, as all children do.

Scraped knees and bruised elbows. What is childhood without a few injuries? Without those precious moments that make them realize oh, sometimes life has pain.

The first time you heard of the concept of "falling in love" you had thought it was like that. Falling on the ground and bruising your knees.

Now though, you think it is something else. Like the feeling of falling into a warm bed at the end of a long day.

Neuvillette is already in bed tonight, laying on his side facing where you normally lay. You tip toe over to the bed, just in case he's already fallen asleep.

He hasn't though, and your eyes meet his vivid purple ones as you lay down, facing him as well.

"I thought you were asleep," you murmur. Tentatively, you reached for him, only to have him meet you halfway. Your fingers laced together with his.

"I was waiting for you."

Such a simple declaration is enough to make you blush. A year of marriage and he still managed to make you blush.

"I'm here now."

Something changes in his eyes, and he looks at you, so, so, fond. "You are here."

You both lay there, either unwilling or unable to fall asleep, feeling so close but somehow still so far away. It's one of the nights when the rain isn't falling. When you first came to Fontaine, it felt as though the rain never stopped, but now it's only occasionally.

"You never answered my question, you know."

Neuvillette frowns for a moment, thinking. You take pity on him before he can worry if he made you upset.

"I asked if you were kind," you murmur, gentle.

It felt like ages ago, talking to a stranger without knowing who they were. Neuvillette looks at you, waiting, knowing you weren't finished.

You had been so worried about everything. And though Sedene had told you, you didn't know if you could believe it or not.

"And what have you found?" Neuvillette asks. His voice is small, as though he's actually afraid of how you might answer.

You don't hesitate.

"You are," you whisper. You inch closer, knees brushing against his own. "You are so, so kind."

He kisses you. Lips sliding against your own, slotting there as though they were meant to be there. And desperately, with almost a full year of longing in you, you kiss back.

You're breathless by the time that he pulls back. He looks the same, and for the first time you see a small blush on his cheeks.

"I love you," he whispers, a reverent noise just for you.

You smile, leaning in to kiss him again.

"I love you too."

[rhas-writes]

my lover, my life, my shawty, my wife

summary: Ushijima x f!Reader. snapshots of eternal youth.

word count: 1.3k

cw: lighthearted manhandling, longterm established relationship ups (and one down), marriage talk and mention of toshi’s parents’ divorce. it’s basically all fluffy and silly tho

a/n: nobody @ me i wrote literally 99% of this a couple weeks ago and just remembered it was in the drafts today i’m working on the promised fics!!! it will just be A While i’m slow okayyy 💘 anyway enjoy some pure ushijima fluff

“Ushiwaka!!!” You shriek, voice breaking with laughter as you slam your hands against his backside. “Put me down, you—you barbarian! Kidnapper! Plunderer!”

He doesn’t say anything, just jostles you gently so your top half (currently upside-down over his broad shoulder) sways while your legs stay firmly in the grip of his arms. You know it’s as close as he’s going to get to a verbal admonishment, your current position already more than enough of an indication that he is fed up with you acting up in a public setting.

“Fine,” you scrunch up your face, sure that he can envision it just the same as you can see in your mind’s eye the near-invisible traces of amusement on his face. “Ugh, you’re going to make me sick. You are so bossy. I can’t believe you think that you can just pick me up and carry me around and tell me what to do. You don’t even say please, you know that?”

He probably gets the idea that he can just pick you up and carry you around and tell you what to do from the ten years that he's been doing all those things, since high school.

You've never gotten sick from being carried like this, either.

“You are bossy,” he says simply in rebuttal. "You say please but you know I'll do whatever it is you want. Even unreasonable things."

"I'm always reasonable," you say. He pats your butt in a way that isn't supposed to be condescending but is. You smack his in return and enjoy the way his back muscles tense up. "Ooh, you've been training your glutes."

He's been doing it in your home gym. You've always been loud about obvious things like this; he doesn't understand it, especially, but he likes it. At first, that had been much of your relationship. You were loud and obvious about your feelings for the up-and-coming teenage ace, and he didn't understand you, but he liked you.

He considers, and then revises his previous thought. He understands you better now. You talk through even things you and he know well because it helps you to process your thoughts, and you are determined to be shocked and delighted by all small things in the world.

"Hello, Bo-kun!" you wave to his teammate. Bokuto, bless him, attempts to bend over upside down to mimic you.

"Hey, Ushijima-san!" Ushijima is lucky that everyone in the facility knows you and you don't have to clarify to any security guards that you aren't in danger, for real. You take offense to the idea that you couldn't win in a fight against him, anyway.

You had been asserting this particular belief, actually, to the rest of the Japanese men’s volleyball team while they stretched post-practice and friends and family were allowed on court to distract them. Atsumu had been egging you on, urging you to try fighting another of the players since he didn’t trust Wakatoshi not to let you win currently. You had rolled up your shirtsleeves when the ace scooped you up and you had, already protesting, waved goodbye to the blond, a huge grin on your face. He had saluted you as you went.

“We’re not married yet,” you say, bonking your forehead into Wakatoshi as he stops short. “You all don't have to keep saying that. Please, call me—”

"Oh, Waka-kun said," Bokuto starts before being cut off.

“We may as well be," Wakatoshi says, turning to face Bokuto (At least turn sideways so I can see, you complain). "It'll happen eventually, so we can start practicing by calling her my wife now."

"What?!" You say. "Don't say things like that. You sound like you like me. Do you like me? Do you want to be more than friends?"

People have always talked about your relationship in begrudging terms. "Oh, opposites attract, I guess..." spoken in a disbelieving and reluctant tone. He understands. Most high school relationships didn't work out. Most people would get frustrated with him and his communication style. Then most long-distance relationships didn't work out. Most young professional athletes wanted to try new things, new people.

Wakatoshi doesn't understand why he would want to try something new when he had something perfectly fine with you. He had said that to you, once, when you were in Sapporo and he in Koganei. You had gotten very quiet for the rest of the call and then remained quiet for two weeks, sending all of his messages to read and calls to voicemail. It had taken a short flight and a shy, quiet apology to right his wrongs. He had known that he would spend the rest of his life with you, he said, forgetting to blink even as you furiously swiped away tears, a month in when you were fifteen. Barely longer than this terrible time you had stopped even fighting with him, just giving up on him. Why would he try anything else when he had never deviated from this path?

But what if you're just not seeing that there might be something better out there for you, you had said, voice angry but face already forgiving. Worse, what if you do see that someday? You’ll get tired of settling.

He had shaken his head. There isn't something better. Please, continue to be patient with me. Your breath had burst out of you in a single sob, and then you were yanking him toward you, ordering him to kiss you so you'd stop crying in front of all the neighbors.

Considering his parents' marriage, one might have thought that he would have more qualms about the concept than he did. You didn't seem interested in pressuring him there, though, and when asked just reminded him that living together long enough would result in common-law marriage anyway, so he just had to tell you if he ever wanted to stop living together. After several years separated and more reunited, he hadn't yet found any desire to do so. He definitely had strong negative feelings about being away from you for extended periods.

He was very lucky that you had chosen a career path which would allow you to travel essentially anywhere with him, find lucrative work anywhere with him. The home gym had actually been your gift to him, from the bank account you didn't share. It was the most thoughtful and horrifyingly expensive gift he had ever received. He had retaliated by hiring your most favored interior designer to rework your apartment into something both sentimentally familiar and not decorated entirely on the whim of two mid-twenty-year-olds. While they worked, he took you on vacation.

"We have to go," Wakatoshi adjusts you in his hold, nodding to his teammate. You’re quiet for a bit, so he puts you down, steadying you by your waist until your head stops swimming.

“You know we have to talk about these things,” you say, looking steadily at him.

“Yes,” he rumbles, considering his words for a moment. “I’ve been thinking about it more often recently. I still don’t feel strongly about the idea of a wedding, but I want you to be my wife. If you want to be.”

Insecurity sparks in him. You enjoyed your friend’s weddings, but perhaps you didn’t want one of your own, or one to him. Perhaps he had crossed a boundary.

“I don’t know,” you tap your lips with a finger, and a weight lifts off his chest when you smile at him. “I’ll see when you ask me. But I want it to be sometime in the future, somewhere more scenic than your athletic facility, okay? With a ring and a sappy speech.”

He smiles, then, his teeth showing. An explosive and momentous display of emotion.

“I’ll be sure to say please.”

[rhas-writes]

The power of a name

Childe x gn reader

warning: use of Childe’s real name, this is basically a monologue.

summary: Childe has many names, people refer to him depending on which side of himself he shows to them. Tartaglia is for those who fear him. Childe is for those brave enough to try and get to know him.  Ajax is way more complicated, but usually it’s for his family. 

He doesn’t know in which category he should put you.

~

It takes a long while before Childe tells you his real name. The main reason is because it could put his family at risk, he has to make sure that you are trustworthy before telling you any personal information about him that could endanger his family. But, the other reason is because he isn’t ‘Ajax’ anymore. Ajax was a good person, he was energetic and innocent, he dreamed of becoming a legendary hero. Tartaglia was not a hero, he was in no way innocent and definitely not a good person.

Keep reading

[rhas-writes]

┣[̲̅:̲̅❥:̲̅❥ Chemistry :̲̅:̲̅]═─

Well, would you look at that……I wrote smth for Dottore. To think that @diodellet was right when she read his scene in my Pantalone fic and joked that it was “totally not a reference to what [my] next fatui fique will be” ;-;

For Dottore’s twisted love story, I took a darker different approach for the yandere’s methods and Darling’s personality!! This was quite fun to write, so I hope you all enjoy reading this. And thank you again to Diodellet for your excellent feedback  ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, kidnapping, stalking, blood, violence, death, medical malpractice, drugging, needles, Dottore being himself, spice, mention of nsfw, MINORS DNI

Note:: Female reader, characterization is based on both Webttore and Primettore

♡ 13.5k words under the cut ♡

i. endorphins

The Nilotpala lotuses are in full glow.

You examine their shadows. It won’t take long for the flowers to close.

Over the past hour, the world has gradually responded to the sun’s arrival. The stars disappeared. The night sky was repainted with pastel colors. The Nilotpala lotuses ceased to be your only source of light.

Concentrate. You can’t miss this.

You hold up your pocketwatch and continue staring at the flowers.

The sunlight reaches the swamp. The Nilotpala lotuses react immediately, gold centers dimming and blue petals closing. One by one, each flower is put to sleep by the sun’s kiss.

You wade past the lilypads and return to dry ground. Your first course of action is to document the observation in your journal.

-

Time: 5:20:11.

Location: Devantaka Mountain, western swamp.

Notes: Photonasty triggered two seconds after direct exposure to sunlight. No variations in individual speed, light intensity, and overall process.

-

About time. Picking up your lantern, you leave the swamp and return to the mountain trail. Halfway down, a strange noise alerts you.

Metal. Sparks. Has a Ruin Machine been activated?

The mechanical sounds are followed by excited murmurs.

Is someone there?

Keep reading

[rhas-writes]

IN YOUR ARMS.

— you dressed up for your date with them, but your shoes hurt.

characters: xiao, scaramouche / wanderer, albedo, tighnari, cyno, gn! reader.

tags: fluff, female leaning pet-names (princess), reader wears heels and a skirt, mentions of mild injury.

author’s note: my christmas present for @alatusprinz <3 i hope you enjoy it, love !

XIAO.

the softie.

xiao swears he doesn’t understand mortals.

by the looks of it, it is quite obvious you don’t know how to properly walk in those things you call heels. granted, you look really cute in your pink skirt and sweater, and the shoes you’ve chosen are certainly pretty and match your outfit, but why would you subject yourself to such torture, the yaksha wonders?

a squeeze to his arm pulls the adeptus out of his rumination. you’re holding onto him for dear life, your ankles almost trembling over the cobblestones of liyue harbor.

a shadow of concern ghosts over xiao’s features. taking your hand in his, he helps you regain balance, and, positioning his other hand around your waist, he leans your body against his.

“qingxin,” golden irises focus on you. “are you okay? did something happen?”

you look at him, the smile on your face looking more like a grimace. xiao is getting more worried by the moment, are you hurt? do you feel unwell? did he do something wrong?

noticing this, you squeeze his hand, in a reassuring manner.

“i’m fine, xiao.” you flinch, shifting your weight from one leg to another.

xiao’s gaze follows your movements and then he realizes: the skin around your heels looks raw, as if something had been grazing against it for a long time.

“you should be more careful, [name].” xiao utters, hooking one arm under your thighs, while the other wraps around your back, lifting you up with ease.

“xiao! but it’s full of people in here!” you exclaim, heat rising to your cheeks, heartbeat loud on your ears.

“i’m not letting you get more hurt.” your yaksha murmurs, voice filled with the same sweetness as the tofu he so adores. “i’ll protect you.” he leaves a kiss on your temple, and resumes your walk, with you in his arms.

SCARAMOUCHE.

the tsundere.

scaramouche warned you.

“why are you wearing that?” he asked, face a deep shade of red, violet eyes looking to the side after regarding your choice of clothes.

it’s unfair, he thinks, that you look so cute in that soft blue dress, your white jacket and pink scarf matching so well with the silver hued high heeled boots you’re wearing.

“oh,” your face falls. “you don’t like it.”

“it’s not that, idiot.” he huffs, losing patience. “but don’t come complaining if your feet hurt after a while of walking.” he finishes, as he grabs your wrist and tugs you along.

scaramouche was right, you admit to yourself, bitterly.

not after much long walking around sumeru city’s streets, your feet start hurting, your ankles almost spraining when the terrain has the minimum roughness to it. you just wanted to look cute for your date with him, but now you’re starting to regret it.

the wanderer’s hand, however, doesn’t let go of yours once. with fingers laced and a firm but gentle grip, he’s already prevented you from tripping more than once. you’re grateful for that, even if right now he seems a little annoyed at you for slowing him down.

“kuni! please, i need to sit down.” you finally cave in, pleading with him to take a break.

turning around, he regards you, frown painted on his features, dark iridescent amethyst eyes serious.

“i told you, didn’t i?” he scolds you, his tone more laced with tiredness than with malice. picking you up, he starts walking to the nearest bench, your aching feet finally resting. “you don’t need to dress up for dates, you know…” the wanderer trails off. “to me, you always look very pretty.” he mumbles that last part, but you hear him anyway, your lips reaching up to kiss him on the cheek.

ALBEDO.

prince charming.

walking around mondstadt’s cobblestone streets in high heels is certainly less than ideal.

see, you wanted to dress up for your christmas date with albedo, but you definitely did not consider comfort.

you are thankful for the chief alchemist’s hold around the small of your back, having already prevented you from falling on several occasions, but the way your feet are hurting and your ankles aching from trying to maintain your balance certainly do not pay off.

“my princess,” your lover says, your hand in his. “i dare to say you do not seem to be quite alright.” his teal eyes that could become a sunny sky or a stormy ocean regard you, inquisitive, thoughts most definitely crossing that beautiful mind of his. “could this have something to do with the fact you keep losing your balance?”

you start. perceptive as ever, isn’t he? nothing gets past him.

resigned, you let out a sigh, your eyes downcast.

“it’s just… my feet hurt… these shoes…” you indicate, moving one of your feet, “i’m not used to them… sorry…”

“i assumed as much.” albedo offers, smirk gracing his pink lips. “and i have the solution for it, my love.”

before you can let out another word, albedo has already picked you up, and you find yourself resting in his arms, one of your hands over his heart, the other instinctively wrapped around his shoulders.

“isn’t this better, my dear?” albedo asks, with a soft brush of his lips against yours.

“it certainly is…” you answer, reaching up to plant a kiss to his jawline. “my prince.”

TIGHNARI.

the one who comes prepared.

having tighnari tend to you was not what you expected today’s date to look like.

yet here you are, sitting on a bench as your boyfriend softly puts a bandaid to the area where your shoes hurt your feet.

“‘nari, it’s fine, i’m fine.” you try to convince him, even if you keep grimacing and flinching. “please, don’t worry about this, love.”

“nonsense,” the fennec fox replies in a tone that does not leave room for further discussion. “i will not let yourself be in pain when i can treat this easily.” he finishes, standing up from his crouched position. “does it not feel better now, my rose?”

your face heats up at the nickname. it’s a little unfair, you think, how he can make you flustered with such simple words, when he looks completely at ease, smug even, seeing your flushed state.

“yeah, it does, but you needn’t…”

“shhh…” tighnari silences you effectively, his index finger coming to rest over the curve of your lip. “your comfort will always be priority to me, darling.” his lips move to peck your forehead, any words you might have wanted to let out dying in your throat.

after resting together for a while, you try to stand up, the way you cringe not unnoticed by tighnari.

“i’ll carry you back.” he states, without more preamble.

maybe uncomfortable shoes are not so bad, you would think afterwards, if you get a piggyback ride from your boyfriend, his long ears perking up and twitching every time you pet them or leave little kisses at their base.

CYNO.

the gentleman.

why did you decide to come to aaru village in high heels and dressed to the nines, you’ll never know.

perhaps you wanted to have fun dressing up for once, maybe you just wanted to look your best for your date with cyno.

what you do know, however, is that walking in the desert sand in such fancy and impractical shoes hurts. quite literally, your feet are begging you to sit down and rest.

but cyno has taken the day off from work today… and you would feel awful ruining this date for him… so with your best smile plastered to your face, you are determined to pull through. for your boyfriend.

cyno’s hand feels warm in yours, the contact a welcome sensation that manages to distract you from the pain, if you focus hard enough.

but, alas, nothing gold can stay, as they say.

spraining your ankle on one of the bumps in the terrain throws your whole act out the window.

“[name]!” cyno’s arms wrap around your waist, stabilizing you. “are you hurt anywhere?”

you try to smile, but as soon as you attempt taking a few steps it’s pretty obvious you’re limping.

“i… i’ll be fine!” you do your best to sound optimistic, but cyno is too concerned to bring himself to believe your constructed cheerfulness right now.

“regardless,” he begins, his voice deep and sultry. “allow me to do this for you, love?” he asks, at the same time he hoists you up, flush against his bare chest, his bronze skin so warm and smooth against your cheek, the desert sun painting him in golden rays, like an ancient god.

“okay.” is all you can manage, your thoughts too muddled and your heart racing too much for you to form more words.

for a while, you proceed in comfortable silence. then:

“cyno?” you call him, gaze downturned, voice small.

“yes, my love?” warm scarlet eyes focus on you, so tender, so warm.

“i’m sorry… because i ruined our date…” you mumble.

“none of it, angel.” a kiss to your nose. “any moment i spend with you is always my favorite, truly.” he reassures, as your eyes close and you bask in his protective embrace.

[rhas-writes]

Hello idk if I'm late but I heard u needed inspo aka smth to write and I was thinkingggggg maybe u could write jelousy headcanons with scaramouche, kazuha, xiao pretty please...

I'm desperate

I’m desperate for it too, don’t worry. I shall provide.

Jealous Genshin Men Headcanons

Genre: fluff, a tad bit of hurt/comfort?

Warnings: possessive behavior but nothing toxic (okay maybe some in scaras but thats just who he is), a tad bit suggestive in Kazuhas

Kazuha

He rarely, and I mean RARELY, ever get jealous. He sees no reason to. He’s confident in himself, in you, and your relationship. Jealousy is a foreign feeling to him

So he was surprised when he felt an irritating amount of annoyance deep within his chest as he saw some guy chatting it up with you

He trusted you. If he trusts you, why is he feeling this way?

Kazuha didn’t realize that he stood up from his seat and started walking towards you when he saw the guy place a hand on your arm. Not until his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. His head nestled into your neck, his eyes narrowing at the guy in front of you that had the nerve to lay his hands on you

He relaxed a little when he felt your hand come up to bury itself in his hair. He put on a plastic smile. His voice was laced with false curiosity, holding a sharp edge to it. “Who’s this my dove?”

The guy seemed taken aback by Kazuhas sudden appearance. Which Kazuha was proud of. But that was quickly stripped away when the guy continued to talk to you. Not just talking to you, flirting with you. And that honestly pissed Kazuha off more. How dare he blatantly flirt with you in front of him, the person who is obviously your lover?

It doesn’t help that you’re just finding the situation amusing. Glancing between the guy and the anemo user. You hear him let out an annoyed huff into your ear.

“So, I was thinking….you, me, dinner at five this weekend? I mean, you’re just really cute and funny-“

Your eyes widen when you felt Kazuha nip at your pulse point, kissing up the side of your neck, along your jawline, before forcing your head to turn to kiss you on the lips.

It seemed innocent at first until you tried to pull away. His hand entangled itself into the back of your head, keeping you still and stuck in place. Each second his kiss got longer, rougher, and damn near proprietary. Your hands clenched onto his chest, letting out a small whimper from the lack of oxygen, feeling your lungs burn with the need for it

The whole time Kazuha’s eyes were half-lidded, glaring at the guy who was now growing uncomfortable the longer it went on

He only stopped when the guy awkwardly walked away from the two of you

A smirk landed on his face as he saw you panting heavily, feeling your skin heat up under his touch

It was after you caught your breath that you laughed, cupping his face with your gentle hand, “I was waiting to see how long it would take you to do something Kazu. It was fairly entertaining.”

He only let out a breathy chuckle, his hand overlapping with yours. He leaned in, lips brushing against your own as he talked, “I’m not done yet dove. I’ll show you just how much you belong to me,”

His words surprised him more than you, but the look on your face was worth it. He gave you a quick peck on the lips before leading you back to your room on the ship

Scaramouche

Unlike Kazuha, this man gets jealous constantly. All the time. 24/7. His abandonment issues come into play every time you look at someone.

Nevertheless, he’s learned to get a handle on it. He wants you two to last, and he knows that his jealousy is his problem to deal with. The last thing he wants is to make your relationship toxic and unhealthy. In full honesty, he’s been handling it well. He’s even been feeling less jealous as of late.

Hence why he was genuinely surprised when he felt the all too familiar feeling crawling up his skin and into his anger issues.

All because a fatui agent, under his jurisdiction to add salt to the wound, was flirting with you.

So maybe it was justified. Maybe it was rational. Perhaps, maybe, it was worth striking him with a blast of electro and sending him flying into the wall, knocking him out cold.

You stood there, baffled. You didn’t know if you should be scared and concerned for the possibly dead agent a few feet away from you. Or, if you should laugh because of how nonchalant your boyfriend was standing after striking down a person for flirting with you.

You decided on being concerned now and laugh later. You rushed over to the agent, kneeling beside him to look for any sign of life, scolding Scara, “Was that necessary babe?”

He let out a strained ‘tch’ before walking towards you, his jealousy only being fueled by your concern for, who in his eyes, was nothing but scum at the bottom of his shoe. “He’s fine. His chest is moving. He’s lucky I didn’t kill him for flirting with you like that. An agent, that works for me, having the nerve to flirt with the person that I make very clear is dating me, deserves to be six feet under.”

“I think that’s a little excessive but you know what? I love your spirit,” You stand up once you confirm that the agent was indeed breathing. Before you had the chance to do anything else, Scaramouche was snatching your wrist into his hand, forcing you to be dragged behind him as he speed-walks down the corridor. It’s tight, effectively keeping you trapped. But the way his thumb glides across your skin makes you relax and smile a bit, allowing him to take you wherever he wishes.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a check up with Dottore. You’re coming with me.”

“Oh cool. Is he going to fix your anger issues?”

“Please. He can barely fix his own.”

Xiao

He lies somewhere between Kazuha and Scaramouche on the jealousy scale.

He’s not jealous of any ‘mortals’. He finds that it’s useless to be jealous of someone that has little significance to you.

The Adeptus has gotten jealous of Zhongli a couple of times. Mostly when you were working under him at the funeral parlor and spent all your time there.

It only made him angry at himself for being jealous of someone he owes his existence to.

But Zhongli just found it amusing and reassured him that feelings of jealousy here and there were normal.

That was the only time Xiao recalls being truly jealous of a living being.

So he’s standing in the corner of your shared room, staring in wonder as to why…he’s jealous at a stack of paper.

A stack of paper that has all of your undivided attention. You haven’t even spared him a glance since he appeared. Only throwing him a haphazard “hello” before going back to your work.

His jealousy is also mixed with concern for your health cause two hours of nonstop work has to be unhealthy for you.

His footsteps were nonexistent as he made his way over to your hunched-over form. His eyes scanned over you. Tense muscles, quick and sloppy handwriting, fidgeting leg. All signs of stress and exhaustion.

Xiao stood next to you, putting a hand on your wrist to stop you from writing. His jealousy surged when you still didn’t glance at him, only scanning over your words so far before speaking weakly, “Let go please, I need to get this report in by tomorrow,”

“No. Stop. I think it’s time you took a break.” He was short and straight to the point like always.

“Xiao, this paper needs-“

He huffed, his voice sounding pushed to the limit, “Enough about the idiotic paper already.”

For the first time since he’s arrived, your eyes met his. But it wasn’t with love or admiration like they usually are. No, it was amusement.

“Are you-…Are you jealous of my paperwork?”

The laugh that followed was both heaven and hell to his ears. His cheeks were tinted a light pink at your correct observation. He didn’t make a move to deny that yes, he was jealous you were putting more time into some stupid papers than with him.

His hands only held onto yours as you were still snickering, “Just- just come to bed!”

[rhas-writes]

prompt ✧ their love languages

characters ✧ scaramouche, zhongli, venti, xiao, aether, kazuha

warnings ✧ gn!reader, none!

a/n ✧ i may do this with haikyuu characters too

SCARAMOUCHE

giving

✧ quality time.

he really knows no other way to show his love and affection for you other than spending time with you. he enjoys your presence and constantly seeks it out, this lets you know how much he likes you. you know he hates spending unnecessary time with people he doesn’t like (which is everyone but you) , so whenever he asks for your company, it makes you smile.

“there you are, i was looking for you.”

receiving

✧ words of affirmation + physical touch.

whenever you compliment him on absolutely anything, it never fails to make a bright blush spread to his cheeks. the same goes for whenever you hug or kiss him unexpectedly. he always says something snarky when you touch him in a loving way, but never makes a move to pull away or move you. eventually he’ll even lean in further to the warmth and comfort you bring him.

“archons, you can’t go one minute without throwing yourself back into my arms again, can you?”

ZHONGLI

giving

✧ gift giving + words of affirmation.

whenever the two of you go on dates, you’re always met with some sort of gift (not too expensive) and a sincere compliment. he always praises you when you do well on something, no matter how little it is, and smiles warmly at you. his words and gifts always make you blush, and you repay him with a chaste kiss.

“here love, this is for you. you look beautiful, as always.”

receiving

✧ quality time.

he loves spending time with you, but he loves it more when you seek out his company or make plans for the two of you. he finds it so utterly charming whenever you walk around town, going to all his usual hang outs, just to find him and spend the day with him. it makes his heart flutter and his stomach twist.

“you were looking for me? oh, i’m sorry dear, i didn’t realize.”

VENTI

giving

✧ physical touch.

cannot get enough of snuggling into your arms, or wrapping himself around you. he finds so much comfort in the warmness you bring and constantly has to have his skin touching yours. is totally clingy, and isn’t ashamed about it. he’ll shamelessly hang on you in public, kissing you and mumbling something about not caring if anyone sees.

“so what if they’re staring? i’m not ashamed. i’ll shout how much i love you to the sky’s if i have to.”

receiving

✧ physical touch.

he’ll love it if you’re just as clingy as he is. you two are basically inseparable, you’re always right there next to him wherever he is. you can’t count the amount of times you’ve gotten him out of trouble or dragged him home drunk.

“cmon venti, let’s go home now.”

XIAO

giving

✧ acts of service + quality time.

he isn’t very good at expressing his emotions with words, so he does it with his actions. he’s constantly helping you with whatever you need, just say the word and he’s on it. with the need to be there to help or protect you, it means he’s almost always with you. he finds extreme comfort in your presence, and always makes a point to be with you multiple hours a day.

“do you need help? hold on, i’ve got it.”

receiving

✧ physical touch.

he adores when you sleepily wrap your arms around his waist or wrist, stopping him from leaving. he usually stays with you till you fall asleep, but sometimes you get clingy and ask if he’ll stay the whole night with you. when he agrees, which he always does, you’ll wrap your arms around him and snuggle your face into his shoulder. his arms hesitantly wrap back around you once he’s sure you’re asleep.

“wait xiao, please stay.”

AETHER

giving

✧ acts of service + quality time.

he likes to show off a bit and save you from monsters, so he usually lets you join him on his adventures. he makes sure you never get hurt, and if you ever do, he has a bag full of medical supplies at all times. he enjoys your company and likes being relied on.

“hey, wanna come with me on some commissions today?”

receiving

✧ gifts.

he loves when you give him gifts, especially clothes or little trinkets he can hook on bags or belts. he likes to show them off and have them visible. you usually have to end up getting something for paimon too, otherwise she’ll get jealous. and it’ll get even worse if aether were to brag about the gift to her when she didn’t get one.

“you didn’t get a gift? hah, i did. look, isn’t it the cutest? i can hook it on my belt and everything.”

KAZUHA

giving

✧ words of affirmation + physical touch.

he’s constantly writing you poems and reciting them to you with a fond smile on his face. the verses always have a series of compliments and things he likes about you in them. his words always make you blush, butterflies filling your stomach. he thinks it’s cute when you shy away from his gentle and loving touches. avoiding eye contact when he kisses your hand, just so he can grab your chin with his other and make you look at him once more.

“what’s that look for? did i fluster you?”

receiving

✧ quality time.

he likes watching your reactions to things, anything, so it’s nice when he gets to spend time with you. he teases a lot, always trying to gauge a cute expression from you (which is all of them in his eyes)

“you do know you’re the most beautiful being i’ve ever laid my eyes on, don’t you?”

[rhas-writes]

fluff ⊹ college au

as much as he hates to admit it to himself, osamu is struggling. 

he wants to be strong — someone you could depend on, someone you could run to when life’s wearing you down, someone you could simply feel content and safe with. his thoughts were plagued with the notion that he was anything but that someone to you. 

and that’s why he does everything in his ability to bring that radiant smile — the one he finds himself daydreaming about — to the curve of your lips. 

while his friends go out to dingy frat houses, singing at the top of their lungs as they celebrate their freedom and youth, osamu picks up the night shift at the diner by his apartment. he started working there his first year, hoping to make some extra money so his mom wouldn’t have to worry about him from miles and miles away. the owner was a sweet man, roughly in his 60s, often humming an incomprehensible tune as he chopped vegetables and meat. truthfully, osamu didn’t mind working extra shifts while his friends went out (they’d call him boring and a workaholic, but he didn’t care). in fact, he was happy to make extra money if it meant that he could take you out to a fancy dinner (a local ramen restaurant), buy you dessert afterward (a quick stop to the convenience store with a smile on his face as he watches the light from the freezer section reflect in your eyes), and surprise you with flowers to end the night (hand-picked from the field a couple miles off campus). 

perhaps he should be living like the rest — either catching up on assignments in the library or coming back home stumbling and slurring his words. perhaps he should start saving his money like you always tell him to, but he’s only twenty and feels no reason to. 

he’d much rather be here, at the silver counter at the back of the diner kitchen, experimenting with different sauces while the man next to him hums the same usual love song. this time, the aura’s a bit different. the man has a smile on his face, he’s chopping the green onion at a slow beat as if there’s a metronome playing in his head. 

“son, ya like cookin’, don’t ya?” 

“i do, sir,” osamu continues to add garlic to the simmering sauce in his pan, a sugary sheen glazing over it. 

“why not cook at home? bring that special someone ya keep thinkin’ about,” he jerks his elbow towards osamu’s arm. 

“i like working here. i like the people, and the food, and the sounds.” 

osamu also likes how you visit him every friday when your classes end. without a doubt, rain or shine, you’ll glide into the diner with a soft smile on your lips. he likes how you walk over to the counter and ask him if there’s a ‘samu around. he also likes how you look behind him, checking on the man who’s too busy tapping his wooden spoon against the pot to notice, before placing a gentle kiss to his lips. and in that moment, he lets himself close his eyes, relax a little, melt into it like softened butter. 

and when you pull away, you see the sleepiness in his eyes. you always wonder how he goes to class, comes to work, goes to the library to work on assignments, and then rushes back to the diner after he eats so he can work another shift. bringing your hand up to cradle his cheek, you ask if he’s okay. he leans into the warmth of your skin for a second before giving you a quick nod. 

“i’m almost done with my shift. wanna go out for somethin’ in a bit?” 

“we don’t have to eat out today,” you tell him, tugging on his sleeve like you always do when you insist on staying in. 

“not even ice cream? ya said ya wanted to try that shit-lookin' chocolate one.” 

“if your shit looks like that i’m a bit concerned for you,” you tell him, twirling his sleeve around your fingers. his teeth peek out from his lips in a dimply smile, one that has you swooning. "no shit-lookin' ice cream today."

"then what do ya wanna do? it's friday night, ya should do something fun." you notice the way he excludes himself from his words.

"how about we just chill at my place tonight? watch a movie or something? i still have those chips you like," you insist. "and my roommates aren't home. stay as long as you want?"

oh, how 'samu loves your place — the comfort of your bed, your sheets that smell like you. he can't help but nod a bit too eagerly, catching your hand in his larger ones.

he gets back to work as quick as he can, not wanting you to leave you waiting, but truthfully, you don't mind. you watch his back flex in his black uniform as he wipes down the counter. osamu can feel your eyes on him, and suddenly he has love songs blooming in his mind, wisps of a sweet melody coursing through his veins.

you're too good for him, he thinks. you don't mind his chaste kisses when he's in a rush, or when he decides to nap on your shoulder between classes.

he throws his boss a quick wave before throwing on his jacket, shoving his arm into the sleeve as he stumbles towards the front of the diner to see you again. you look up at him with something like ardor and solace swimming in your eyes. placing a quick kiss to the top of your head, osamu slips his hand into yours.

"sorry, babe, took me longer than usual to check inventory," he apologizes, squeezing your hand a couple times as the brisk air touches your skin.

"'s all good. i like watching you work. you're all focused in there."

"gotta be or that man's gonna throw me out. how else am i gonna pay for your expensive ass drinks?"

"all that for a matcha with sweet cream cold foam," you squeeze his hand back in appreciation.

"yeah, well, don't wan' anyone else buyin' those for ya."

osamu's cute like this — nose all red from the cold, a wrinkle in his brow at the thought of someone else surprising you with your favorite drink every morning. atsumu thinks his brother has it bad for you ("down so fuckin' bad, dude," he'd say), and honestly, osamu agrees. he never thought he'd be excited to wake up at the crack of dawn to pick up your favorite coffee before your 8 am, or watch you get distracted by online shopping when you should've been doing your assignment. if love is seeing you at the end of each day, kissing your lips even when he's covered in condiments and oil, holding your backpack for you after a long day, then osamu wants it all.

because even when he should be worrying about the quiz he has tomorrow and the fact that he hasn't slept properly in the past four weeks, he starts to hum that familiar love song when you unlock the door to your apartment (it's become familiar to you, too, because that tune escapes his lips whenever you're by his side).

reblogs n interactions are appreciated!

[rhas-writes]

Could you please write about the Harbingers and their voice lines for the reader? Like them telling the traveler about you and stuff :)

♡𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬’ 𝐕𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ♡

synopsis: The Traveler expected the Harbingers to be cold and ruthless in pursuing whatever the Fatui's goals were. Hearing their loving voice lines on you was certainly the opposite of what they predicted.

includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader

notes: I've wanted to do something like this for a while. It was rather cute and fun to write! Includes five voice lines about you for each Harbinger.

Pierro:

About You - His Lover:

“So you’ve already met [Name], Traveler? I’m not surprised, they like to talk to people, especially when they see me speaking to others. They’re quite energetic and bouncy, aren’t they? But I can’t say I dislike that about them. They are a bright light in my life.”

Chat - Walks:

“Much of our time spent together is on walks outside in Sneznhaya, with the snow gently melting on us. It’s a rather simple activity to most, but irreplaceable to both of us. I hope, after everything is said and done, I can take them on walks in other places.”

About Your Patience:

“They never comment on it, but I know they get lonely without me. For most of the day, they do not see me due to my work, and even when they try to stay up late for my return, they end up falling asleep sometimes. I truly wish I could spend more time with them. But I know, after fulfilling the Tsaritsa’s dream, I will give them everything and more.”

Something To Share - Meals:

“I don’t think about what I eat or when I do very often. It doesn’t matter much to me, but [Name] clearly disagrees. Instead of the maids preparing my meals, they started cooking everything for me and adding little notes too. It’s very endearing of them, but I don’t think I’ll ever live it down when the other soldiers saw me eating heart-shaped cookies with smiley faces on them…”

About You - A Second Home:

“I remember the destruction of my homeland clearly. It is something I will never forget. But even though I have only a small portion of time with them, they never fail to make me feel… content. With them, I can forget about everything, even if it is just for a few minutes. Heh, sometimes I foolishly wish they lived in Khaenri’ah with me for a bit, if only to experience a normal life with them.”

Capitano:

About You - His Lover:

“There is nothing I cherish more than [Name]. Many people often comment on our relationship, after all, we are quite different in all aspects. But I have them to thank for many things. They have taught me many things I could have never learned on my own.

Chat - Souvenirs:

“Traveler, you have been to many nations for extended periods of time. Would you share some items that would make good souvenirs? I always make sure to bring something back for them. If you have any recipes to share, that would be greatly appreciated as well. Whenever I am back home, [Name] always insists on having all of our meals together.”

A Special Item - The Kamera:

“You must be wondering why someone like me carries around something like this. I never cared for the device until [Name] told me about it and asked me to take photos on my expeditions. I guess I’ve unintentionally become a master without knowing it because they always praise the pictures I take when they organize them in their scrapbook.”

Something To Share - Smiles:

“I am not adept at smiling at all, or very expressive in general, something [Name] has an issue with. Oftentimes, they sit on my lap and try to get me to show some emotion on my face. Reading stories, telling jokes… they try it all quite frequently. While I don’t think it’s working very well, I enjoy their antics.”

About You - Reminiscing:

“I remember once I walked in on them trying on my helmet and coat. They hadn’t noticed me yet, and I couldn’t help but notice how small they looked buried under my clothes. But quickly I worried about whether their head could take the weight of my helmet. Before I could say anything, they saw me and scurried away in embarrassment. I never brought it up again, but it was rather cute.”

“Huh… Paimon would have never guessed Capitano was like this. When we go to Snezhnaya, we have to find this guy’s mansion somehow! Paimon wants to meet [Name]!”

Columbina:

About You - Her Lover:

“Hmm~hmm~♫ Oh, hello there, Traveler. Ah, I see you’ve brought [Name] with you too, come here, my dear. Hmm? Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you. They are my partner in love, music, in everything. Perhaps you should come to one of our shows one day. I’d say we are quite good.”

About You - Favorite Pastimes:

“I love going to watch plays with them. The theater is one of the places where we spend a lot of time. I always end up humming along to the songs. Sometimes, when the theater is unoccupied, we act out certain scenes together. Say, Traveler, have you ever heard of Romeo and Juliet?”

Chat - Naps:

“Hmm… what time is it? The weather just feels perfect for a midday nap. [Name] always indulges me whenever I want when I want to doze off. This surface is no match for their pillowy softness, but it’ll have to do for now…”

“Hey, you can’t just fall asleep in the middle of- oh… Paimon doesn’t know how she can knock out that quickly.”

Secret Hobby - Poems About You:

“Your bright smile that can go on for a mile,

Unmatchable style with a laugh that never ends for a while.

Sweet lips that I want to savor,

Ah, I am so glad I am in your favor.

Or should I say “For you make me ever the more braver”...? What do you think, Traveler?”

Something Interesting - Liyue Opera:

“Traveler, I hear that there is a talented opera troupe in Liyue with beautiful music and songs. Oh, you’ve met them yourself? I would love to attend it with [Name]. They love listening to music from around Teyvat, and I have to agree with them. Haha… I can’t wait to take them out of Snezhnaya for a bit.”

Dottore:

About You - His Lover:

“Hmph, you wish to know about [Name], I hear?”

“Yeah! Paimon wants to know what kind of person would stay with a madman- I mean! A Fatui Harbinger! You know, since that’s quite dangerous and all.”

“Hehe, is that so? Too bad, because I have no obligation to tell you. But they are truly… ah, never mind.”

“Aww… Paimon really wanted to know what he was going to say.”

About You And The Segments:

“Some of the segments are quite fond of them, while some do not know them very well. After all, they were cloned at different parts of my life, before and after I met them. I must say… it’s can be hard to get some of the other segments away from them. I didn’t think they would hoard [Name]’s attention so much…”

“Is it just Paimon, or does Dottore’s attentiveness towards them grow as each clone gets older? And hey, is Dottore jealous-”

“Shush Paimon, before he hears you!”

About You - Whereabouts:

"It's time for their medicine... Hmm, have you seen them, Traveler? You saw them leave and go into the city? And you didn't stop them? Tch, useless. I must simply go and find them myself... Now that I think about it, I wouldn't want you talking to [Name], anyway."

About You - Health Concerns:

“Ever since our Akademiya days, [Name] has been plagued with an unknown and virtually incurable disease. It is essential that they take their medicine every day, but they often try to avoid it, after doing it for so long. This is why I and the clones always keep an eye on them.”

“Aw, so that’s why [Name] always looks so tired whenever Paimon sees them… That must be so hard.”

“… I don’t care what methods or tactics I have to employ, or if the Gods or even you, Traveler, get in my way. I will cure them of their sickness. Nothing will stop me.”

When The Sun Is Out:

“Hm, it’s a perfect day for [Name] to take a walk. The fresh air is always good for their health. Perhaps a boat ride is in order as well.”

“Oooh, Paimon loves the sound of that! Maybe we can fish and eat it too!”

“Why would I ever invite you to be with us? I’m sure your very existence would give them a headache.”

“Hey, how rude!!”

Pulcinella:

About You - Relationship:

“You were fighting some hilichurls when someone called [Name] joined you? And they ended up lighting an explosive barrel? Wherever that child goes, they always bring trouble with them. But don’t hold it against them. They are a lovely person to be around.”

Stories To Tell:

“They always pester me to tell them stories. Though, this is not a bad thing at all. Not many are willing to listen to this old man ramble on willingly. Ah, youth is a wonderful thing. Would you like to join us next time, Traveler?”

Chat - New Things:

“Indeed, they have taught me many things. The latest trends, songs, books, and more that their generation is into. Sometimes I struggle to understand some of what they say too… the world is changing so quickly.”

About You - Baking:

“We bake together quite often. Most of the time, I have to direct them, otherwise, they will burn down the kitchen which has happened multiple times before. Pantalone was not happy. I have never seen a youngster with such little aptitude for cooking, but surprisingly, it is great fun.”

About You - Family:

“Ever since they were young, they were quite rebellious. Running away from the castle, pretending to be asleep after bedtime, beating up all the Fatui soldiers during sparring without hesitance. If anyone else besides me had to take care of them, it would not have ended well. But, I am truly glad they are in my care. I have thought of them as my own child for a long time. If it wasn’t for the possible danger, I’d have officially adopted them long ago.”

Scaramouche:

About You - His Lover:

“Huh? How do you know about [Name]?”

“Well, we just happened to see them with you once. You were actually smiling! And later we went up and spoke to them for a bit, and they were really nice! They told us that they were your-”

“Ugh, that idiot! Always trusting people so blindly… Anyway, I don’t need you to know anything else. It isn’t your business.” 

A Little Secret:

“I wonder if they could make dango for me again… it’s been a long time since I’ve had it. But how do I get them to make it without directly asking? How bothersome… huh? How long have you been there, Traveler? You didn’t hear anything, did you?!”

Something To Share - Burdened Feelings:

“I once tried to wipe my emotions and feelings of them away into nothingness. It felt preposterous to me that I could feel something for a human, one that could barely fight nonetheless. But when I lost the Gnosis, when I lost everything, as I fell down, the only thing that I saw in my mind was their stupid smile…”

When It Rains:

“Whenever it rained, they would always huddle themselves close to me under my hat. At first, I pushed them away, but the look on their face made me allow them to continue. Sometimes, I make sure to take them out on a day that’s expected to rain just to see them do that. Don’t you dare tell them that though, Traveler.”

About Beelzebul:

“[Name] is always telling me to reconcile with her, but what would she think of me, or of them? How would she act toward me? Would she even remember me? There’s that irritating shrine maiden too… Hmm? It’s nothing. Let’s keep moving.”

Arlecchino:

About You - Her Lover:

“[Name]? Yes, they are my partner. I suppose those Fatui recruits can’t keep their mouths shut about other people’s business for very long. Hmm? You’re surprised that I was so direct about it? Well, there’s no reason to hide it. But I would prefer that this discussion ends here. I like to keep my time with them private.”

When It’s Sunny:

“This weather is not my favorite. I prefer the cold much more than this blistering heat. But I did hear [Name] say that they would like to visit a beach someday. Hmm… say, Traveler, is Yaoguang Shoal a good spot?”

Something To Share - Quietly Loving:

“I’m sure you have realized by now that I am not very good with words or emotions. These things are far from my expertise. However, they seem to not mind my behavior, talking enough for both of us. But if they ever requested anything from me, I would do it without hesitance. No one else comes close.”

Chat - Coffee:

“One cup of coffee, with whipped cream, syrup, and sugar please.”

“…Eh?!! Arlecchino, what are you saying? You always order your coffee black!”

“I know. To be honest, I could not care less about all these extra ingredients. But… they always used to try and add things to sweeten the drink behind my back. I suppose I… miss them. This reminds me of them, a bit.”

“Aww… Paimon guesses that even the scariest and coldest of people can have someone special to them.”

About You - The Orphanage:

“They often spend their time with the orphans. I was initially surprised at first, and so were the other soldiers, but it worked out in our favor. The children love them far more than they will for me or the recruits. [Name] is a gentle and patient soul, after all. Reading stories, putting the kids to sleep… they are quite hard working despite having no need to.”

La Signora:

About You - Her Lover:

“My darling [Name] is the most perfect lover one could ask for. They are beautiful, inside and out. How I love to pamper them so… actually, there are a couple of new outfits I want them to try on. I can’t wait to see how they look. They are all mine.”

When It’s Windy:

“Tch, this wind is messing up my hair and clothes. [Name] used to always brush and take care of my hair after a long day, after I showed them how to do it correctly of course. Traveler, I’m afraid I have to go now. I must see them again.”

About You - Letters:

“Hmm, hmm, hmm… and it’s done.”

“Hey Signora, what are you writing?”

“Just a letter to my dearest. They are expecting something from me soon.”

“Wow, so you can send letters with your fire moths? That’s resourceful!”

“Of course. I always let a few stay around [Name] as well. If any of them happen to be extinguished, I’ll know if anything happened to them.”

About You - Favorite Pastimes:

“There’s nothing that pleases me more than seeing them all dolled up in the latest fashion. They look simply exquisite, especially when we do each other’s makeup. But I also adore seeing them lounge around in their favorite hoodies. They look great in anything, really.”

Something To Share - Past Grief, New Happiness:

“Sometimes, it feels just like yesterday when I lost him. Grief and bitterness wrapped around my heart like a cocoon that would never hatch. But when I fell in love with them, I felt something that I had not felt in far too long. That cocoon started to shatter little by little, as I started to remember how to love again. I truly love them wholly with whatever’s remaining of my heart.”

Pantalone:

About You - His Lover:

“So, you’ve met [Name], I hear. What do you think of them? Beautiful, am I right? Of course, they are nothing short of perfection to me. Hardworking, determined, helpful… I could go on about them. Say, Traveler, would you be so kind to direct me to some of the best shops around here? I would like to find some gifts to send to them while we’re here.”

Worries - Financial Concerns:

“Traveler, I have a great issue on my hands. [Name] has apparently forbidden me from spending any more Mora on them. They keep saying that they do not need anything else, but how can I restrain myself from spoiling my darling?”

About You - Favorite Pastimes:

“Oftentimes, we like to end off the day with some leisurely reading. The feeling of them laying against my chest, legs intertwined, as I whisper certain parts of the book softly into their ear, delighting as they turn warm- oho, your face is all red. Did I make you embarrassed? Apologies, I get carried away when talking about them.”

About You - First Meeting:

“My childhood is not something that I like to remember. But, despite everything, it is pleasant to think about the first time I met them. They were poor, just like me, barely scraping by, though they never failed to greet me every day with a big smile. [Name] would take over the grueling working shifts for me and the younger kids sometimes, and sneak bits of food out the window to me. Even with the fact that I was surrounded by poverty, I couldn’t help but think I had a true gem right in front of me. ”

When It’s Cold:

“I confess, I do enjoy the cold, but most of it is due to how adorable [Name] looks all bundled up in my fur coats. Or how they always dive under the covers and refuse to get up for anything. It is always a struggle for even me to get up from bed when they are so warm, too.”

Sandrone:

About You - Her Lover:

“They are my loyal assistant and lover, always willing to help out with any experiment I ask. I have known them for a very long time. They have always been the one to drag me out of the lab to get some fresh air… as a matter of fact, I think it’s about this time when they come to harass me. Somehow they’ve gotten half the robots on their side, too.”

When It’s Raining:

“This weather is good for testing how waterproof my robots are and the joints of my Automatons. A long time ago, I built a feature for an umbrella into some of my creations so whenever [Name] and I went for walks and it rained, we would be fine. Huh, you’re asking if you can use it? No, you can’t.”

About You - Favorite Pastimes:

“Eh? Sandrone, what is all this? You’re all dressed up!”

“Oh, it’s you. I’m simply preparing for my favorite event with my dear lover. We’ve just finished repairing an ancient Automaton, and they’ve decided a tea party is in order.”

“Wow! Even the robots have spiffy suits on! It smells so good here too, hehe, Paimon wants a taste of the tea and cookies too- w-woah! Where’d all these big robots come from?! Hey, let Paimon down!”

“This is for [Name] and I only. Now shoo. The tea party is set to begin soon, and I must welcome my honored guest…”

Inspiration - New Creations:

“Before I met them, I had never thought of using my skills to create mundane things that weren’t war machines or destructive Automatons. I thought anything else would be a waste of time, but surprisingly, it is not too bad. It’s quite nice to feel their fascinated face in the crook of my neck while I work. I usually gift these creations to them, anyway. They’re not much use to me, but [Name] likes these kinds of things.”

The Future - Fontaine Frenzy:

“I hear that I am set to head out to Fontaine soon. I would love to see the faces of those poor souls when they realize their technology is nothing compared to what the Fatui has created. Ah, I guess that means I’ll be seeing you there too. Will you be able to keep up with [Name] and I, Traveler? I must warn you, they are a formidable foe, with their refined skill and raw power from my mechanical attachments. Now that I think about there, there were some new weapons we wanted to try out… hehe, I can’t wait.” 

Childe:

About You - His Lover:

“Oho, interested in [Name] are you? I don’t blame you - they are truly an amazing person. Sweet, kind, and caring, not to mention, they are incredibly strong as well. Teucer loves them too, always wanting piggyback rides. I can’t wait to introduce them to the rest of my family.”

About You - First Meeting:

“I clearly remember the first time I laid eyes on them. I was passing through Liyue when I heard of an archery competition, and naturally, I was eager to test my skills. I was sure that I would win first place, but what did you know! Someone called [Name] had stolen that spot from me. Long story short, I pestered them until they fought me, and they really did beat me down. Haha, it feels so long ago, now that I look back on it.”

When It Snows:

“I once took [Name] to Dragonspine, because they wanted to see the snow as it was a rare occurrence in Liyue. You should have seen them, hah! Shaking and sniffling like it was the end of the world. And it wasn’t even that cold, as least compared to my homeland. Why didn’t I take them to Snezhnaya? Don’t worry, I plan to, very, very soon…

About You - Whereabouts:

"Have you seen them, Traveler? No? Haha, they must be hiding from me again. I guess I’ve asked them to spar too many times. Comrade, if you happen to see [Name], tell them I’m waiting at Northland Bank for them. Xinyue Kiosk, my treat.”

About You - Safety:

“Heh, I wonder what they’re doing right now. I hope they haven’t been roped into any strange commissions again. They are too helpful for their own good. If anything happened to them while I’m gone… Traveler, if you happen to be around, please help them. I’ll owe you, comrade.”