imagine him clinging desperately onto you in a drunken state, putting almost all of his weight onto you as you prayed to gods above to have the strength to carry him at least over to the couch in his place.
you have no idea how he got into this state, let alone be drinking alcohol rather than his usual tea. with two cubes of sugar, of course. but apparently, he must’ve mistaken the alcohol for tea. but that doesn’t matter right now. right now, the only thing that did matter was to let him rest.
here you are, taking care of him. you brought him some cold water, offering your help to let him drink. to which, he stubbornly declined at first but eventually drank two glasses of water just like you urged him to. he’s a good boy, right? before you could go and excuse yourself, his arms was already wrapped around yours as he pulled you onto the seat next to him, mumbling about things like ‘don’t go’ , ‘no, stay with me…’ jeez, when has he ever been this clingy?
you tried to talk to him that you’ll be back, bringing his toothbrush so you can at least make his teeth squeaky clean before letting him of doze off. wait, don’t go asleep yet! thankfully, he managed to push it through as his gaze was making the room spin. moaning and groaning about how he must’ve drank too much to count. for a guy like him, he should be more responsible!
as you went back to him, toothbrush in hand, you spoke to him as if he was a child teaching how to brush their teeth for the first time. he didn’t disturb you, of course, knowing that you were just trying to take care of him.
you offered to change him out of his clothes as well. he teased you about how you just wanted to see him naked, and to you being so done with his drunken bullshit but you just can’t help but laugh at how he still finds humor even if his head was ringing. yep, that’s your man alright.
you moved delicately in removing his clothes, folding them neatly as you threw over his arms a new set of more comfortable and clean clothes. he wasn’t forcing you to do all this, no. he just let you because you find joy in taking care of him, and he feels all so joyful and fuzzy inside knowing he’s being taken care of. seriously, for such a guy like him, you didn’t think he would be so happy when you treat him like he was a pouty and bratty child. still, you loved him regardless.
you brought him a blanket a pillow next, assuming that you can’t carry him to bed as he doesn’t have the willpower to stand up and walk normally until he was sober. he insisted that you should sleep next to him, his arms desperate attached to your wrist until you had to burst his bubble with, ‘no can do. the couch is too small for us!’
oh well, perhaps you can just… move the other couch next to him. it’s not everyday that you find him so vulnerable like this. maybe it’s a little psychotic to wish he was drunk more just so you can see this side of him more often. or maybe you just liked taking care of him. him <3.
; wriothesley, lighter, rafayel, phainon, caleb, marius + your faves .ᐟ
It has been four long years since Zayne has left Akso Hospital for good, including you and Linkon City. Four long years leaving you with multiple questions left unanswered, only for it to be bestowed upon you four years later.
؛ଓ requested by anon, no tw but there will be hurt/no comfort in here. for the zayne girls reading this, i am no zayne girl myself for i am a rafayel girl but i did my best to understand his personality and intentions for this work. enjoy :) .ᐟ ao3
Four years. Four long years after Zayne had left you, for good. You didn’t know where he went or where he was, leaving you desperate and mad at him for leaving you in such a state. His phone? Static. No calls or text messages from him, or perhaps it was because he restricted your number. Your messages still went through, and your calls always ended up in voicemail. Surely, he didn’t block you, but perhaps abandoned his number to keep himself from reaching out to you.
Four long years leaving you devastated with unanswered questions, filled by rage and anger as to why he left so suddenly. Hurt that he did, and sorrow for leaving you independent. Of course, you had your friends with you, sure. But it was Zayne, the same person who promised to never hurt you again and would stay by your side may the heavens and earth fall down from the sky.
Zayne was your… everything. Your closest friend, your lover, your adviser, and might I add your doctor. He was there during your childhood, to be the one who would always patch up your wounds, to your doctor who treated your heart with care and delicateness, only for him to throw it onto the ground and be the one to break it after caring for it for the longest time. How could someone else fill that gap inside your hollow and dejection?
Oh, snap out of it. It’s been so long, surely you can’t still be upset about it.
You averted your gaze from the familiar toy handing on the shelf at the same place you two once played the claw machine with, a child holding onto your hand as he looked up to you.
“Are you okay, miss y/n?” The kid said, his eyes full of concern and interest.
Your eyes met the kid, giving him a small laugh and a sweet smile. “I’m alright, Kevi. Don’t worry.”
You bumped into the kid just by Azure Square while you were taking a walk, with the same Professor Lucius, of course. You insisted that you would walk around the city with the kid, which ended up in Twinkle Toys.
“Take your pick, Kevi. I’ll buy you whatever you like. But just one, okay?” Kneeling down, your eye level met his. His eyes sparkling with joy as he nodded and immediately looked around. He instantly pointed towards the one by the bottom shelf a few steps away from you. It seemed like it was a replica of the current famous protagonist of a movie you recently saw. “You want this one?”
Kevi nodded as you picked up the doll, showing it to him. “Alright, let’s get you this one!”
You stood up from the floor and checked the price tag. Ahh… nothing. But there is a barcode.
Walking towards the cashier, you asked the lovely lady by the desk to scan the code. She placed it in front of the scanner and showed you the price, and thankfully, it was in your budget. You went to grab your wallet from your pocket when you heard a familiar, featherlike voice that once soothed you.
“Good morning.” He said, but he wasn’t talking to you.
Oh, there he is. “Zayne?” You muttered out, accidentally.
It almost felt unreal, that maybe you were just hallucinating. Hoping that it really wasn’t Zayne and someone who just resembled him too much, or how your heart started to quicken as the man turned his head towards you. Lo and behold, your eyes weren’t deceiving you at all. It really is Zayne.
Your grip on Kevi began to tighten, making him pull on your hand to grab your attention.
“y/n?” Zayne said, looking almost as shocked as you were. His hands were in his pocket, as the plush toy he was going to buy sat on the counter.
You repeated his name, almost as if you were calling out to him, but under your breath. Your grip started to loosen, checking up on the child as you turned to face Zayne again.
Oh, God. How could you even face him so shamelessly? Almost as if you weren’t just cursing his name and his entire existence yesterday for the past four years, only to feel so nervous and horrified to see him again. You wanted to run away, you really did. Even to the point you ignored him and continued to grab your wallet and the money for the kid, creating an awkward silence between you. To think that silence like these was comforting to the both of you, now it felt like a disturbance in your morning.
You paid for the damn toy and wanted to run off as soon as possible, but as the lady was calculating your chance, he broke off the silence with a simple, “How are you?”
He didn’t turn himself to look at you, but rather slightly tilted his head so he could see most of you from his peripheral vision.
This man. How could he act so… normal? After he left you so bluntly without a word nor a single trace. Which is funny, how such a big shot doctor like him could just leave Linkon City without anyone noticing. Not even you. The thought leaves a bitter feeling in your mouth, but you have to hold back on your attitude.
“Fine.” You said. It was a neutral answer, really. You really were just fine.
Zayne hummed at your response, vaguely shaking his head with a soft sigh. Seems like there wasn’t any way to speak to you, and he knew you might be still hung up on last time. He was about to take his leave, grabbing onto the paper bag when you called out to him.
“Wait, can we… talk. I believe you owe me an explanation.” You said.
…What were you doing? You haven’t even processed the thought before it came over running in your mouth, even you were surprised and taken aback with your words. You just wish the world ended there, or at least no one around so you can freely bang your head against the wall repeatedly over and over again until it was echoing in your skull, practically telling you there was nothing inside your head.
Thankfully enough, Zayne was still somewhat the same understanding person you knew. He nodded at your request and pulled out his phone. You gave Kevi the toy and excused yourself to bring him back to the Professor, “How about… the same bakery from last time?” You suggested a place where you will meet him.
“That will do.” He replied, looking back at you as he shoved his phone back in his pocket.
As you stepped out of the store, you let out the biggest sigh known to man. You never realized that you were holding in your breath the whole time, and leaving that place was very much needed.
“Let’s get you back to your father, hm?” You said to the child.
The walk back to the square felt so short, even if it did take you roughly about ten minutes. One minute you’re leaving the store and the next you’re already standing in front of the bakery. Do you intend to run away again this time? He might’ve paid for it already. He always did.
Oh, shut up.
You pushed the door open with your shoulder, looking around to figure out where Zayne would sit. If I was Zayne, where would I be? Normally, he would sit by a window, a place where it’s cozy and you can see people walking back and forth outside. So, you peered through the left and right windows and found Zayne sitting there. You gracefully worked your way towards him, your heart racing and thumping through your ears almost like loud drums who were impending on your misfortune.
With delicate breathing, you managed to even out your gasps of air as you pulled back the chair and sat down, apologizing to him for taking your much needed time. There, on the table, you noticed that he really did already buy fill in pastries and drinks. It wasn’t all flashy, but seemed delicious enough to take a bite of.
“You didn’t have to…” You said, swallowing down on your words as you looked at him, his face barely readable now. Are you losing your prowess to read him?
He seemed to shrug your decline, crossing his legs as he connected his fingers as his elbows sat on the arm rest. “It’s already here, no need to decline.”
“You must be talking about what happened before, yes?” He questioned, his gaze sitting firm and unwavering on you as he noticed the way you were subtly averting his gaze.
Well, you did say he owes you an explanation, so why decide to dodge the topic? You’re already here and faced with the opportunity to seek the answer you oh so desperately sought out for. Would you really want to choose to steer the conversation differently and let your feelings slide again just for the sake of speaking to him like nothings wrong? Yes, it's bittersweet to be able to have a conversation with him once again, but that would mean ignoring the aching feeling in your heart just because you chose him again.
You nodded your head as you fidgeted with your fingers, “Yes, but, why did you leave Akso first? I mean, when you left, the director didn’t approve your resignation at all. By the time I went to visit you, everything was just… gone.”
Zayne raised his eyebrows at your question. He’s thankful you were honest about your answer, but he wasn’t expecting you’d bring up the hospital right after. He let out a soft sigh as he calculated the right words to say, “Because I knew that if I stayed with Akso, I’d still be in Linkon and you’d come looking for me.”
He stopped his words as he continued his gaze on you, waiting for you to ask another question or to simply speak. When you didn’t, he continued.
“I couldn’t bear to face you again after what I did to you. I feared that if I stayed a lot longer, I’d come to hurt you again one day.” Zayne removed his glasses and placed them onto the table, you head slowly nodding with understanding and a new profound perspective and insight. You thought he was done explaining, but he spoke for the third time.
“I figured that me leaving would hurt you again, but it’d be better if I left and hurt you for the last time than stay and wonder when will be the next time my evol will go after you many more times.”
You let out a shaky ‘ah’ at his words, biting down on your inner lip as you furrowed your eyebrows. “So that was what you leaving was about?”
No wonder. You should’ve expected that he didn’t leave because he didn’t want you anymore. Rather, he left because he loved and cared about you too much to keep himself from hurting you.
He left out a hum as he took a sip of his… boba tea. You assume it’s the usual, a hundred percent added sugar to it. You wanted to laugh, to say that some things don't change at all. A chuckle left out your lips instead, a small smile creeping up to your face as you reminisced how you’d always scold him that he’s just waiting for diabetes to hit him already.
He noticed this, shaking his head with a smile and asked if his explanation was fit and expected of your standards. With a nod, you stirred your drink with a spoon.
“I… I think I understand it now.” You said, a mumble but clear enough for him to hear.
“I’m glad.”
You wanted to keep the conversation going, wanted to explain how much hurt he caused you for leaving, but it felt like it wasn’t valid anymore knowing he left with good intentions and not to physically hurt you. You were capable of defending yourself, but a type of hurt from Zayne is different–something you can’t defend and recover from.
“So… where did you go after leaving Linkon?” You asked, your voice slightly shaky as you still avoided eye contact from him. Your eyes fixated on the food and drinks in front of you.
Zayne’s composure went back from earlier, elbows rested and fingers intertwined. “I stayed in a different city far from Linkon, but I recently moved back to the outskirts of the city just five months ago.”
“Really? What were you doing then?” Since he ran from his job, you wondered what kind of living he had back then.
“I took the time to manage my evol, as well as wonder what life is like outside the city.” His answer felt sincere. No false wording or lies behind it, you assumed. This time, you looked at him and took a bite of the pastry. It didn’t taste bland, nor was it too sweet. It was just perfect to your liking.
“I’d like to ask you the same thing. How's your aether core?”
You stopped chewing when you asked, not really expecting that he would bring up this topic. You nervously laughed as you shook your head. “I’ve… been stationed to another doctor, but regarding the aether core itself, I do take the time to visit Doctor Noah instead. Other than that, I’ve been fine.”
With the time left in both of your hands, you both managed to catch up on each other's lives. How Zayne lived off well in the city he ran away to, or how you’ve been doing well and far better than before as Hunter. You’ve mentioned that you reunited with Caleb recently, and with the same mocking disinterest in his face as you spoke.
You found yourself growing soft and lowered your guard around him, even when you felt like you had a whole wall around you and another wall behind it to make sure your feelings won’t slip away. But, this is Zayne. You can’t act like you still don’t want him right at his face. The same person that made you feel like home and provided the comfort you needed, you can’t hate him even if you wanted to.
By the time you noticed the time, it was already somewhat around the afternoon. There was a tug in your heart that you don’t want this moment to end, not just yet. Letting him leave meant that you’ll miss him all over again, when your heart yearns to come back home to him. There you were, in your seat, dazing off as he spoke and ate, do you really want to feel the same emptiness once he leaves? You could stay as friends, of course. But how do you stay friends with someone who has wanted and longed for each other ever since you were children?
“Zayne–” You blurted out, cutting him off suddenly. You don’t remember what he was saying, so you assume you were already dozing off by that then. “Do you think…”
Say it. He’s already in front of you. What’s stopping you? But gosh, you can’t speak properly. Your words and your heart was fighting each other.
“Is there a possibility for us to… try again?”
Your heart was racing, absolute cold sweat running down your face. Your back felt hot, almost like the devil itself was watching you from behind. Your throat went dry, and your whole body felt like it was shaking uncontrollably. You see, here’s what it looks like. His love for you was to protect you, making him run away from himself. However, your love for him was to seek the closeness you both once had. You two had different approaches. You thought to yourself, and usually two negatives causes posit–
“I’m afraid there’s no possibility.”
Huh? Why not?
Before you could speak, he removed the glove from his left hand and, oh fuck.
“You’re… married?” You eyed the golden ring on his finger, unsure what to feel. You feel… sadness, yes. Almost ridiculously for even trying. The way the ring shined with the sun’s glow, almost like an object of ridicule.
Your face turned into a scowl as you kept your eyes glued onto it, breaking your contact as he wore the glove again. You can’t… ugh, you can’t even come to a conclusion let alone an explanation on what was happening. During those four years he left, he already got married?
“I’m only back in Linkon because my wife requested to be here.” He started.
No. No, please stop talking. Please, just stop. Maybe this was just a dream, and that the Zayne in front of you is just a nightmare. Zayne never went back to Linkon, you never bumped into him in that damned toy store, and you never caught up with each other in this damned bakery. This was never real.
“The toy I bought was for our child.”
Stop. Stop talking. Please, stop.
The scowl on your face turned sour as you felt water trickle from your waterline. You never noticed that your heart got heavy and how you were about to cry. The trembling hands that sat on your lap balled into a fist as you swallowed down a lump in your throat. Please, don’t cry. Not now.
All the same, you never realized either that he already stood up from his seat and pulled the jacket around his shoulders again, grabbing the paper bag from the sides.
“The food is already paid for. I apologize for having to come to this ending. I’d appreciate it if you don’t let the food go to waste.” And with that, he walked past you and you heard the door ring, emphasizing that he already left.
Oh, poor you. Left alone once again. Your sigh was shaky as you lowered your head, Your hands immediately covering your mouth as you felt yourself breaking down. You tried to muffle your cries, not when you’re in a public area with barely any people. Stop crying.
But it was pathetic, your heart wanted him yet he was already married. Four years of you wondering where he was, your heart aching for an explanation, and four years of wanting to just be with him again. How could this happen? You grabbed your napkin from your pocket, opening it to cover your face as you continued to silently cry and pray to whoever was listening for the staff to not notice you. You wanted to run. Run away forever and never come back to this place, knowing the chances of bumping into him again and again. It hurts loving Zayne, doesn't it?
hiii hehe, do you take requests? If so, can I ask for a zayne x reader (angst) pls 👉👈? I saw you have a Rafayel pfp a few days ago so I figured you played the game^^
anyway, the plot I was thinking of is based off of the recent story quest (but if you haven’t played it, it’s okay you can come up with your own!!) and let’s say Zayne left mc for good (and obviously mc is hurt and mad at him) and after a few months or years (you decide) they bump into each other again, catch up, apologize, acceptance, and just as mc was about to tell him that they should try again, she finds out that he’s already taken.
That’s all!!! Tysm if you ever do make this req (pls make it sting, I want to bawl my eyes out so bad) 💕
👀 i cant imagine what the zayne girls are feeling, im on it! separating this to the story itself to prevent spoilers on the plot ;)
You and Wriothesley have been high school sweethearts for a rough six years now, creating a strong bond between you. Almost magical and whimsy, no?
Finding a job isn't easy, not when you both have different visions of the future. You wanted to be a big shot actress in different nations of Teyvat, but Wriothesley wanted you to stay here in Fontaine. You both made it work for a few short years, but compromising and enduring a life none of you wants isn't easier said than done.
tw .ᐟ angst, hurt no comfort
؛ଓ based on a movie i saw a while back, really recommend it - un/happy for you,, wrio may be slightly ooc but he's still wrio .ᐟ ao3
“I bet they’ll last long! Make sure to invite us to your wedding.” Is what they all said.
You were influenced by Furina’s success ever since you were a child, your eyes always glimmering with admiration whenever you spoke about her and how she presents herself on stage. And by then, you know you wanted to be like her.
You mentioned your dream to become a renowned actress all across Teyvat to Wriothesley, hoping that your one day success will bring light and hope to inspiring performers and entertainers like you. And thankfully, Wriothesley was supportive of your dream.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to achieve that, lovely,” He said, leaning onto the bed pillow, him facing you as you stared into the ceiling, almost like it didn’t exist and you were watching a shooting star pass by as you made a wish.
Yet here you were, covering your mouth with your hand to stifle your sobs as your boyfriend slept peacefully in your shared bedroom.
You looked through your plans that you once bulleted, realizing that the life you have right now isn’t the one you always dreamed of. It’s always, ‘I need you to stay here.’
Maybe it’s immature of you to cry over a broken dream, but isn’t it also immature for Wriothesley to keep you hidden as he suffocates you in your relationship? The amount of chances to become a star was laid out before you, yet you rejected all of those offers just to say, “I’m sorry, I can’t do that!” Just for the sake of keeping Wriothesley company.
A groan left the bedroom a few feet away from you, alarming your senses and making you wipe your tears and fix your posture to make it seem like you weren’t just losing grip of reality a moment ago. Your laptop sitting beside you, a pillow providing support to prevent it from falling.
“What are you doing here?” Wriothesley asked, his whole being disheveled as he made out of your figure from the dainty light of your laptop. He rubbed on his forehead, looking around and noticed how messy the living room was.
You blinked rapidly, your breathing still stuttering as you barely made eye contact with him. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went here…” You said, the end bit getting a tad bit quieter.
Wriothesley chuckled before sighing, ruffling his hair as he walked over towards you, holding both of your hands as he escorted you up to your feet. “Is that so?”
“Well, you should be in bed by now. Long day tomorrow, you know?” He scoffed at his own words, shaking his head as one of his hands held your arm. “Well, more like later.”
Before you could act, Wriothesley closed your laptop as he walked both of you back into bed, his arms immediately wrapping itself around your waist. His lips found comfort on your forehead as he kissed you good night.
This moment should be happy for you, comforting and intimate even. But as your head felt the familiar pillow softening your weight, you couldn’t help but let out a final tear of sadness wash over you.
As morning came in and went by, you felt that Wriothesley wasn’t beside you, unlike usual weekend mornings. Instead, the curtains were slightly pushed away, the sun emitting a yellow glow through the windows. Unusual, truly unusual.
You laid in bed for a good few moments, your body never moving from the same position you woke up to. What were you staring at? The window, how it tells you to rise and shine and face the day. Or maybe it was the ceiling, reminiscing how supportive he was of you back then.
“Knock knock.” You heard, your eyes darting towards the door.
Enter Wriothesley, a grin plastered on his face as he saw you awake. “Good morning, sweetheart.” He said, opening the door further to let himself in.
“Good morning.” You murmured, rubbing your eyes. Your heart rate quickened as his presence filled the room, almost as if his silhouette was dominating and rubbing you off the wrong way.
Wriothesley sat down at the side of the bed, looking your way as he leaned down to give you a kiss on your forehead. You notice the odd scent coming off of him, almost like baked food. “You smell funny.”
“Ah, yes.” He said, pulling away from you as he captured your hand, bringing it to his lips as he pressed his lips onto your knuckles. “I made us breakfast.”
That’s unusual, you usually made breakfast together.
You laughed at his words, sitting up on the bed as he dropped your hand. “What? Is it wrong to graciously spoil my girlfriend for the day?” He asked, standing up from his position.
“Not at all.”
Wriothesley walked over to your side of the bed, handing out his hand in a gentlemanly gesture. You accepted it, of course, a small smile showing through your tear stained cheeks from last night’s crying. No, that didn’t happen at all. You should be grateful.
As he held your hand towards the dining table, both of your plates filled your breakfast with a soup to compliment the solid food.
“What’s all of this for?” You chuckled, your eyes looking back from him and onto the table.
There really was something off about him, how nervously he started to feel under your touch by the time you reached the kitchen, or how his eyes started to wander when you tried to make eye contact with him. What’s his deal? Even his unusual demeanor made you nervous.
“I haven’t been able to prepare you breakfast much ever since we lived together.” He started, his gaze focusing onto the table before he looked at you. “Six years, could you believe that?” His tone hushed as he lovingly gazed into your eyes.
“And that’s alright, really.” You said, a nervous laughter coming out of you.
Wriothesley came to face you now, his whole body looking towards your way. “I know.” He replied, stroking your hair as he brushed a strand off of your face. “And I intend to continue that in the next few years.”
Your eyes widened as you saw him descend to his knees, taking a step back at his sudden motion. “Wriothesley–”
“What I’m saying is,” He dug into his pajama pants’ pocket, looking for that one small box of red velvet. “Will you marry me?”
By the time the box opened, your life flashed before your eyes. Countless times of having to cry alone once again in the corner of the bathroom, far from where Wriothesley was just to hide the internal suffering you have to endure just to stay with him.
As much as you loved him, you can’t bear the thought of having to live your final years trapped by a man.
Wriothesley noticed your distressed expression, how your breathing was quickening, your body shaking, and your waterline brimming with tears. He wanted to ask you what was wrong, even if there was a gut feeling telling him that you were about to say no.
Maybe it was the crankiness of being hungry getting to you, but your head started to shake on its own as the word “no” came falling out of your mouth.
“Why not?” He asked, placing the box down onto the floor as he got up to cup your face in his hands. Wriothesley himself was starting to get worried, as much as his heart swelled with hurt he wanted to know your answer first.
“Wriothesley, I–” You started, tears falling down your cheeks as he wiped them away. The guilt was eating you alive, how selfish are you for wanting to choose yourself? “I can’t keep on living like this.”
You swallowed down the lump in your throat, wanting to form concrete words before you started crying and breaking down in front of him.
“What?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he scanned your face for answers. “But we’re doing just fine–”
Just fine? You shook your head at his words, repeating the words “No, no no!” Your hands found his wrists, gripping it soft enough to make it seem like you weren’t mad at him.
“Wriothesley… You’re suffocating me.” You whined, your words coming out cracked and choked out as you sniffled on your tears. Before you can even further explain, Wriothesley made another assumption of you.
“I’m suffocating you? What are you talking about?”
“I let you change my dreams, I allowed you to change myself– I don’t even know who I am anymore!” As much as you wanted to keep on loving him, you knew that you were losing a piece of yourself every day trying to meet him in the middle.
“I don’t even know how long I’ve been denying and telling myself I can live the life you wanted to, even if it meant giving up on my dreams. But god, Wriothesley! I can’t keep living the life you want us to have.” The tears that fell on your cheeks met his hand, dripping onto the floor as he started to tear up as well.
Wriothesley gave you a confused yet hurt and surprised look, one where he’s unsure what he’s supposed to feel. “Is that what you’ve been feeling about us?” He let go of your face, giving you the space you needed to explain yourself.
Your head nodded as you pressed your palm into your eyes, almost wanting to gauge your eyes out from how hot it felt. Yes, that’s how you’ve been feeling these past fucking months. You took a deep breath before continuing, flickering your eyes to stop the tears from falling but fuck, it just hurts.
“Maybe it’s selfish and childish of me, but I’m sorry… I can’t keep going into your ideal life, where I’m stuck between loving you or choosing myself for once… looking at my friends who achieved what they want and having to laugh off questions like, ‘Are you an actress yet?’” Almost like a ramble, the words falling out of your mouth fell out before you processed what you said. “Wriothesley, I love you. I really do. But I can’t marry you.”
That was it. In conclusion, you won’t marry him. You can’t.
Wriothesley slid his hands on his face, forbidding himself to feel upset about your confession. Maybe he just didn’t notice he was hindering you, but did you really have to keep this from him? He muttered under his breath words of frustration, repeating the word ‘why?’ with increasing fervor as he hit his fist onto the wall.
“I’m… I’m not mad at you.” His back facing you, making you take a few steps back as you barely see him starting to act violent. “I’m just mad you kept this hidden from me.”
“I tried to tolerate it, really…” You whispered, your head hanging low with shame and regret. “I thought I’d be able to convince myself that I’ll be able to accept it one day but…”
“You just can’t?” He finished for you, facing half of his body towards you as salty tears ran down his face. His expression full of hurt, repentance, and maybe even loathing for both him and towards you.
You fell down to your knees as you felt another cry rip out of you, repeatedly asking for forgiveness from him. “I’m sorry, I really tried…”
Shaking his head, Wriothesley asked you to stand up, his breathing ragged and shaking as he walked over towards the table. He pulled the chair for you, before walking back to you to help you on your feet.
You thought that he was just going to walk you to your seat, but before you knew it, Wriothesley brought you into a tight embrace.
“Eat this breakfast with me one last time, and I’ll let you go.” He whispered against your head. You sobbed further into the crook of his neck, nodding in understanding as you gave him an equally tight hug.
As both of you savored the moment, you couldn’t help but to persistently apologize to him, saying how sorry you were and how it felt like you only led him on. And as much as you loved him, truly and deeply, maybe it’s better that you just part ways, no?
Ah, it hurts. Having to confess your hurt at the break of dawn without even having breakfast, waking up to your boyfriend kissing your forehead and crying into each other's arms not an hour later. Was this really the right choice? Even if it meant losing the love you knew ever since you were a teenager, losing the love of your life.
Even so, Wriothesley shushed and cooed your cries, even if he was sobbing himself. Rubbing your back and stroking your hair, telling you that it’s alright. “I’ll let you free after this, and promise me that you’ll be a big shot star one day after, okay?”
His kiss on your head almost felt foreign now, knowing that after tomorrow he’s a stranger in your life now. Yet, a stranger you made a promise with. After this, you will start on a brand new life away from him–not quite yet without him, because you know a part of him will stay within you before it deteriorates.
♡ | Being the most infamous criminal in all of Fontaine is one of the most thrilling thing, especially when you're dying to get caught. After killing multiple people for specific reasons, the bounty on your head reached millions of mora just waiting to be claimed. After all, your husband is the best officer there is.
You and Wriothesley has been married for two years. In those two years, your marriage has been hidden. He knows that it was morally wrong to be married to a criminal he was supposed to turn in, but his heart stops him from from being loyal to his duties, which leaves you awfully pitiful for him. ˎˊ˗
tw .ᐟ suicidal reader, implications of depression, hurt no comfort, use of alcoholic drinks, mentions of guns and knives, mentions of kidnapping, suicide
𖹭 first work, not beta read nor am i a native english speaker; errors may occur. And it may suck ass at first. .ᐟ ao3
After being kidnapped during your adolescence, you pointed a gun at your kidnapper and shot them, making violence your way of self defense. Every time you went out, you always had a gun or a knife in your pocket and bags, hoping to use it whenever a threat bestows upon itself to you.
With every stranger you found suspicious getting near you, you always pointed a gun or a knife at them, having to refrain yourself from triggering it. However, you had multiple killings where many innocent civilians died from your hands, making you flee to Liyue.
During your time in that country, you stumbled upon Wriothesley, who was working for an international collaboration for Fontaine’s police department with the Millelith. Wriothesley didn’t know who you were, since your reports were either masked or your image cannot be depicted, which made you hide your identity to him.
Speaking of Wriothesley, as he opened the door from your shared bedroom to change, he slumped down on the couch before turning on the television. He skipped through multiple channels–cartoon channels, animal geographic channels, and then the Steambird Channel.
“Fontaine’s most wanted criminal is on the run once again, after having a vicious and bloody killing spree at Hotel Debord.” A woman said, her face distraught as it showed the evidential photos of your joyous massacre.
Wriothesley leaned in from his couch, furrowing his eyebrows as he saw your photos plastered on national television once again, worry creeping up in his chest as he wondered where you fled. Seconds turned into minutes as the channel didn’t give any updates and speculation about where you went, but as soon as he heard police sirens outside his home, he knew just where to find you.
He rushed over to the highest window of your home, hoping that he would see you hijacking the window open. And you did. He heard you giggling to yourself as you gave one last look towards the police officers down below, wondering which turn you went. They were close enough for you to see, but far enough to not find you.
As you closed the window tight shut, you placed your hands on your hips and let out a big sigh, laughing once again after out running them. That’s when Wriothesley secured an arm on your neck and placed a hand on your mouth as he pushed you to a wall. His eyes full of disapproval and worry. “What the hell did you do this time?”
He took a peek outside the window, the room dark enough to hide his face. He noticed how vibrant the red and blue lights were, or maybe it was because of the tears that almost appeared on his water line.
You batted your eyelashes at him with a blunt look, looking at him in the eyes and on the hand on your mouth, telling him that you practically can’t talk, not when there was a big, muscular hand on your mouth and throat.
When he removed his hands from you, you grinned at him first and then wrapped your arms around his neck, swaying him side to side as if you didn’t just decrease Fontaine’s population by five percent. “Oh, I missed you too!”
Wriothesley grabbed your arms first before placing it between your side. “Just answer me first. What did you do?” He leaned down slightly to meet you eye to eye, his face stern and serious.
You remained a poker-like face at him, your eyes slightly wide with a small smile across your face. “A group of men were being such a pervert at the performance today. You know? The one with the twin performers. A few guys paid hundreds just to get them to strip.”
Wriothesley winced and sighed at your words, rubbing his forehead as he circled a bit around the room. He groaned, lifting his head to meet the annoyingly dark ceiling before he placed a strong grip on your shoulders. “Well I’m glad that you were looking out for their well-being. But dear god, you should never put the law on your hands like that.”
Your head was tilted to the side as you raised an eyebrow at him, hearing the sirens getting louder until eventually someone was calling out outside the residence.
“I’ll go talk to them, alright? And don’t go anywhere. Just sit on the couch.” He warned, both of you going down the stairs as he placed you down on the sofa. “Don’t go anywhere, I swear to god.”
He grabbed a more decent clothing than the loose shirt he wore just a second ago, but kept the sweatpants. He also grabbed the ID and badge he placed on the coffee table where he left you off.
Wriothesley leisurely opened the door, acting as if he wasn't harboring the exact criminal they wanted. “Officer Wriothesley of Meropide Police Department, how may I be of service to you today?” He brought up the badge and ID, showing it to them.
“Officer Morgane of the Marechaussee Phantom. Officer Wriothesley, have you seen the wanted criminal lurking in your residence? We’ve lost their trace around your area, and we would like to know if you’ve seen unusual activity in the past five minutes.” The officer said, behind her are two other officers from the same department, and a little melusine next to her.
“I’m afraid not, Officer Morgane.” Wriothesley shook his head, something to copy from his slightly trembling hands as he struggled to place the badge back into his pocket. “I just got home, actually. And turned on the television and knew about the case. However, I would let you know if I found some unusual activity.”
“May we request an investigation in your premises, Officer Wriothesley?” The melusine asked, placing her hands on her hips as she looked Wriothesley dead in the eyes.
He slightly furrowed his eyebrows, a sudden lump in his throat forming. “That would be unnecessary, Officer Ceasth.”
She exchanged looks at the woman, waiting for her approval until one of the male officers spoke.
“With all due respect, Officer Wriothesley, an investigation is a must, especially with someone as hostile as the wanted criminal.” A wide man said, crossing his arms as he looked at him.
“How about you investigate your own residence, you must have some private matters inside.” Another man said.
Wriothesley chuckled as he sighed, “Very well. I won’t take long.”
With that, Wriothesley turned around and went inside once again, shutting the door behind him. He made haste towards the living room, finding you still sitting on the couch but with a gun circling around your fingers. Wriothesley placed a hand on the said gun and grabbed it, making his presence seen as he stood behind the sofa.
“Stop that.” He said as he looked at you. “They’re letting me investigate the house, and I would like to hear no accidental gunshots from inside as I convince them that you’re not in here.”
Your eyes lit up as you saw your husband again, giggling to yourself as you gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “There won't be any gunshots heard here, you can trust me.”
“I know I can trust you. But once they barge through this door, make a run for it and hide.” He placed some distance between the both of you, breathing heavily through his teeth. The grin on your face never ceased to exist, giving him that uncanny innocent look as he scolded you. “Don’t give me that look.”
A playful pout replaced your grin, wiggling your shoulder side to side as you kept eye contact with him. Wriothesley shook and hung his head low, his eyes going back towards the door. “I’ll give them an update. Don’t move.”
Before he left, you called out to him one last time. He turned his head to you, crooking an eyebrow upwards and waited for you to continue your words. “Give me a kiss first before you go?”
Wriothesley, unable to resist you, chuckled and made long strides to go back to you. He gave your lips a not so quick peck, pouring all the worry and fear to it. “Just, be safe. Okay?”
You nodded at him, fending him off and telling him to continue his work. “You can trust me!” You exclaimed, leaning back on the couch as he opened the door and left. “And he took my gun with me…”
A few minutes pass and Wriothesley is back outside the gate to meet the four officers, a hand running through his hair almost nonchalantly. “No suspicious activity here, officers.”
“Very well, Officer Wriothesley.” Morgane said and slightly bowed at him. “We will appreciate an update from you further on.”
“You better, or we will have to tell Monsieur Neuvillette on you and off with your head in courtesy of champion duelist, Clorinde!” Ceasth said, turning behind him as she gave him a small glare from her shoulder.
Wriothesley snickered at her words, lifting a hand as he shook it like he was swatting a fly. “I’m afraid that won’t happen, officer.”
As the police cars retreated, Wriothesley took a few more seconds before going back inside. But this time, you were nowhere to be seen. His heart started pounding to his ears, his brain triggering a sense of flight as he searched the house for you, calling out your name. When he heard water running by the bathroom, he quickly made his way to it and saw you staring at your bloodied hands.
“There you are…” He said, his grip on the doorknob softening as he saw you alive and well. “I thought they distracted me and took you from behind.”
You listened to his words intently, but never met his eyes. You shoved your hands into the cold, running water, your eyes fixated at how the tainted red stains stuck to your palms like paint. How many people have you killed today? In fact, how many people have you killed in your whole lifetime at all? And during those killing sprees, how many times have you wished that you never ran from the police?
“What do you think would happen to me if I turned myself in?” You blurted out suddenly. Maybe it was an autopilot thought that your mouth registered instead.
Wriothesley’s eyes widened at your statement. What wouldn’t happen to you once the police get a hold of you? He leaned off of the doorframe and rushed to your side, grabbing onto your shoulders as he forced you to make eye contact with him. This action made you jolt up, your body not realizing that you’ve been staring into nothing at every thing at the same time. You scanned his face, his mouth slightly agape as if he was figuring out which part of the textbook he learned about what kinds of punishments the law has in store for you.
“You have no idea.” He said, almost like a whisper. You noticed how his pupils were contracting and how his voice quivered. “Once you step foot into that department, they will throw you in without any second thoughts and then torture you as painfully and ruthlessly as you did to your victims.”
“Second degree murder, illegal gun possession, resisting arrest, and multiple attempted murder–” Wriothesley let go of his grip on you as flicked his fingers as he counted all of the laws you’ve broken. Biting down on his lower lip as he showed you his fingers, “Do you get it?”
He placed both of his hands on the side of your neck, his thumbs rubbing your cheek as he leaned down on you and pressed your foreheads together, his breath hot and heavy against your face. “They’ll lock you away in a cell and throw the key, leaving you to rot in jail. That’s if you’re lucky enough to escape the death penalty.”
You stared at him right through his eyes, your face remaining deadpanned as you were unable to have the proper emotions you needed. Is it because you knew that would be the cost? Or maybe it’s because you would prefer the death penalty more than anything. It seemed like nothing was able to faze you anymore, after all, you have survived multiple life or death encounters.
Wriothesley noticed the lack of concern you had on your face, pulling back slightly to move your shoulders back and forth. “Do you hear me? I can’t let that happen to you. I swear, I can’t let them take you away from me. But you have to promise me one thing–promise me that you’ll be careful next time.”
Suddenly, you were able to make out a reaction this time. You let out a heavy sigh with some laughing in between, from how long you felt like you were holding your breath. You removed his hands from your neck, holding both of it delicately as you toyed with his wedding ring, as you swayed the other hand back and forth.
“I’ll promise you, and they won’t be able to catch me that easily. I used to be the best hide and seek player back in my days, you know?”
Wriothesley sighed, a mix of exasperation and endearment as he watched you toy with his wedding band. He came to know early that the playful demeanor you put up is just some kind of defense mechanism or a way to cope, knowing that he is a master of that tactic too. He knew you won’t listen to all of what he has to say, yet he was also unable to resist you either.
“I’m sure you were, but this isn’t just a game of hide and seek anymore.” He started, his eyes walking from your fingers to your face as his eyes softened at your sight. That cheeky smile plastered across your face, or how your hair fell perfectly to frame your face. “This is different, they’ll search everywhere just to find you, investigate every hole you can crawl into, and once they catch you…”
He stopped for a moment, his hand catching yours as his grip tightened. “And once they catch you, they’ll make sure you suffer worse than your victims. I won’t be there to protect you–”
“Not like you’re supposed to be protecting me at all as we speak.”
“That’s not the point,” Wriothesley scoffed, shaking his head as he discarded what you said. “The point is, I need you to fully promise me that you will not take the law into your own hands. I know that I can’t control what you do, and that you have your own way to spend your time leisurely, but dear god. Think about me, someone who cares and loves deeply about you, getting worried sick every time your face is on national television and newspapers.
At that point, the water in the sink started to overflow, yet no one seemed to notice. It was pooling all over the floor, the splashes hitting your bloodstained clothes, your feet running cold as no one bothered to turn it off.
A heavy weight filled your chest, making it feel like every blood in your body went towards your heart and filled it to the brim, with how much you wanted to spill all over your own feelings that you’ve been suppressing.
“I promise.” You said, your voice quivering in almost a whisper. “For better or for worse, through good and bad. That’s what we said, didn’t we?” Your playful demeanor started to deteriorate as your body betrayed you, tears spilling out of your waterline as you opened your mouth to take a deep breath and hitch. Or how your shoulder started to shudder and your mouth started to frown and pout.
Wriothesley felt a sigh of relief wash over him, the utterly bittersweet moment overriding whatever the hell happened earlier. He ran his fingers over your tears, wiping them off as his own tears started to threaten themselves by rolling down his cheeks. A wide, genuine smile tugging on the corner of his lips as he leaned in and captured you into a kiss. The salty taste of your tears mixed as he poured every longing feeling he kept hidden. Love, gratitude, fear, frustration, it was all in there.
“Thank you…” He murmured over your lips, his voice raw with emotion. “It means so much to me to hear you say that. Even if you think of me before you act, I’m already content with that.”
He pulled back, his hands brushing through the strands of hair that covered your face, pushing them aside. “Until death do us part.” Wriothesley whispered, cupping your face as his lips shuddered a smile. “Promise me one more thing, that you will come back home to me at the end of each day. And I will do the same for you, that we will both find our way back into each other’s arms. You got it?”
You took in a deep breath as you nodded into his palm, your breathing vibrating through your chest as you felt yourself become more vulnerable. Your eyes rested on his arm that held you, “I promise.” You stated, almost like a whisper. You kept your gaze away from him, like you were scared to meet him in the eyes. “I promise I’ll come home to you.” Another set of tears fell from your face as you said those few words.
There was nothing to be afraid of. Not with Wriothesley, no, he never gave you any reason to be afraid. So perhaps the fear came from you instead. The fear of being unable to bear that vow, one short year of your marriage terminated a little too early.
Wriothesley cupped your face and kissed you once again, then pulled back as he stared into your eyes that was filled with love and desperation. He let out a heartfelt laugh as he rubbed your face, squeezing it in between his palms. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”
The faucet from the sink was turned off, Wriothesley walking over to the shower to check the temperature before urging you in. A warm smile plastered on his face as he opened the shower door for you, “I’ll bring you clothes.”
You nodded as you waited for Wriothesley to leave, discarding your clothes onto the floor and not caring about the fact that it was flooded. You won’t use them again, anyway.
As you basked in the feel of the water on your skin, your mind started to wander at the times you ran away. There were moments where you were caught in a dead end, panting heavily as your body slid on the wall behind you, away from the flashlights and patrol lights. During those moments, you felt an unwavering splash of relief wash over you. You’re finally going to be caught. All those pent up years of running away until your limbs betray you, until you know nothing else but to run, they’ll finally throw you into the pits of hell.
But every time there was a voice inside your head telling you to keep running, to come back home. That voice came in as Wriothesleys, telling you to keep moving and come back home to him. And you did, you ran and you ran and you ran until you found your way back again, just like you did earlier.
That’s right. You’re only on the run right now because you still need to come back home to him.
You wore the clothes Wriothesley brought in for you, noticing the creases on your fingers. How long were you in there? And when did he bring the clothes to you? You probably didn’t notice him knocking on the door and placing your clothes on top of the toilet lid. Moreover, you smelled a faint scent of an aromatic smoke coming from the kitchen.
You wrapped a towel around your neck to catch the water droplets from your hair, coming out of the bathroom and sneaking a peek around the corner of your kitchen. Wriothesley’s back was facing you, but you made out the fact he was cutting carrots while the stove was on at the side.
“What’re you making?” You asked, fully walking inside the kitchen as you stood by his side.
He quickly glanced over you, a small smile creeping up his face as he cut the carrots in a diamond shape. “My specialty, because why not?”
You hummed in approval as he continued to cut, the smell of the barbecue ribs emitting across the room. “Better make it extra special tonight then.”
You skipped over towards the kitchen island, watching him work through his cooking. He would frequently glance back at you whenever he would reply to your words, a playful banter being thrown around by the both of you. Honestly, what did you ever do to deserve such a man?
Wriothesley gracefully placed the plate of his specialty cooking in front of you, grabbing a bottle of wine from one of the cupboards and pouring you a glass. He would always say that it was truly best paired with the best wine there is, and it was.
“Dawn Winery?” You asked as you sipped on the glass, and you remembered this was the same flavor as the wine you both had on your first date in the comfort of his apartment after coming back from Liyue.
Of course, every other date you two had was always inside his place. Not like you can go out in the open anyway, can you?
Wriothesley nodded as he chuckled, taking a sip of his own. “You remembered.”
Absolutely. How could you forget? The nervous sensation you had in a long time, the sudden urge to just walk out that door and free him. Ah, you could remember it like it was yesterday.
You hesitated at first to cut and bite your food, wondering if you’re even deserving to eat such delicacy that he made just for you, full of love and warmth and safety. In the end, you downed the food and pretended like your actions were justifiable. Of course they are, they were self defense.
Wriothesley offered to be the one to clean up the dishes, urging you to take a rest. He noticed how constrained you were the whole day, and thought that it’d be best if he allowed you time for yourself and to ease up.
And so you did.
You followed through his words, watching him for a while washing the dishes before you got up and went to your shared bedroom. The night felt unreasonably cold, and how your body would tingle when your foot would make contact with the cool, hard floor. The windows? Closed as tight as it could be. No fans or air conditioners were even open, almost like it felt like the grim reaper's presence was looming over you.
You eagerly jumped onto the bed with a loud “Oof!”, your chest immediately hitting the mattress as you grabbed on the blanket and pulled it over to your nose as you cradled yourself like a child in a womb.
As much as you wanted to wait for Wriothesley, everything felt like it was going slower as it seemed. He was only doing the dishes, what’s taking him so long? You glanced over your phone on the nightstand, it has only been three minutes.
The silky feel of the pillows beneath your head eased you up, the soft blanket serving tender warmth over your chilled body. You fought the urge to close your eyes, wanting to see Wriothesley one last time before fluttering your eyes shut. However, your body rejected that tendency and closed shut.
During your unconscious state, you heard light footsteps and a soft sigh, accompanied with a low chuckle. Wriothesley sat down on the edge of the bed, his fingers reaching out to you to brush the stray strands of hair from your face. He never told you this, but he always prefers to see your face before going to bed and after he wakes up. Hence the reason why he’s so against you sleeping on your chest.
Wriothesley lifted his legs on bed before lowering himself and resting his head on his arms, admiring your tensed face. “Good night, sweetheart.” He whispered as he brought a strand of hair to his mouth, kissing it lightly before dropping them and resting his arms around your body.
[ … ]
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The sound of the clock's hands went through your ears, the ticking sound being repeated in the room. You groaned lowly, making sure that your sounds won’t wake up the giant man behind you. That giant man being Wriothesley, his arms loosely wrapped around you.
The clock showed its hands at around two in the morning, the light of the moon and streetlights illuminating a subtle shadow of the clock, enough to depict the time.
You noticed the dryness of your mouth, and so you wiggled slowly out of Wriothesley’s arms.
You made quick strides to the door, opening it gently, so damn gently with no creeks, and closed it. You slowly walked towards the kitchen, opening the dim lights to light your way through.
As you stood on your tiptoes to grab a cup from the cupboards, there was a slight noise as you opened it. You winced, hoping that the sound isn’t loud enough to reach your bedroom. Then you opened the fridge, wanting a cold drink to rehydrate the arid feel of your throat.
You went and placed the cup down on the counter, your eyes lingering towards the batches of knives on the knife rack. You thought to yourself, how sharp are these?
While you were about to grab the biggest one, you hesitantly glazed over the edges of the knife. It reflected the light perfectly, but the very pointy end was quite dull. You pointed it at yourself, examining it further until you felt the urge to gauge your eyes out.
You gave an airy gasp, realizing the thoughts gnawing on your consciousness. The knife was dropped immediately back on the counter, your hands rushing to quickly place it back on the rack.
Heavy, short footsteps were taken as you backed away slowly, then you found yourself in the living room. You rushed once again to open the lights, the darkness frightening you.
Then you comprehended, where did Wriothesley put your gun? You might need it again for another heist around the city.
There it is. On the coffee table. Your husband must’ve trusted you enough to display the gun once again to your reach, and you were already fast asleep when he wanted to give it back to you.
You sighed, your heartbeat getting faster as you sat back down on the couch and held the gun.
While you held it, your eyes scanned on the faint stain of blood on the grip and trigger. Come to think of it, you’ve never pointed a gun to yourself before.
The barrel is facing you.
You let out a shaggy, nervous laughter as you realized the sudden change of direction the gun is facing, and it felt like you weren’t the one who turned it around to you.
No, you were about to put it down and run away, but the last trigger hit your forehead before you even placed it down.
Hah. You felt bad. You know when they say, you have seven minutes left to live before your mind shuts down completely? You recalled your first encounter with your demise, the very person and reason why you turned out this way. Yourself.
Then, you recalled your first encounter with your rebirth, Wriothesley. You remembered how hesitant you were when he proposed, crying to yourself that night when you said ‘yes’. The insufferable feeling of having to trap him forever in your upcoming marriage, or how you two weren’t a normal couple yet, in fact, was such a complex one that you were gaining humanity through him once again as he was losing his.
Oh, how you wish you were different. You pray to whatever god or Archon there is listening to you to forgive you for turning out this way, but it wouldn’t make any difference if you were forgiven. In the end, you were still a murder taking away lives of others before you took your own.
As you drew your final breaths, you heard faint sounds coming towards you in the form of screaming and crying. That’s when you knew that it was over. A tear ran down your eyes, your vision getting blurry. Was it really tears? Or was it blood?
Oh my dear Wriothesley, I’m sorry for ever daring to love you in the first place.
