synopsis: envious nobles are at it again, ruining your day with their venomous remarks and making you doubt certain things. What a relief that your family is always ready to make it feel better.
pairing: Diluc x fem!reader, feat your sons
tw:Â hurt/comfort, bullying, established relationship, fluff, tiny mention of pregnancy
word count: 6.9k+ words
authorâs note: @sleep-deprivedracoon you can call me a liar. I know I said I was not going to continue A child of our own anyhow, but here I am, making a whole family AU (yes, here is a separate masterlist for it)
Biggest thanks to @lunargrapejuiceâ who shared my brainrot and gave me an inspiration to write it đ
Life couldnât be better. Honestly! You have everything and then some more that fills your every moment with happiness - you have an amazing husband, who is your lover, your support, your dear friend and the person who looks at you like you hold the whole universe in your hands (and you do, whenever you cradle Dilucâs face in your palms). You have two amazing sons - four-year-old twins, sweet and active, polite and respectful, happy and playful, though sometimes borderline mischievous - but they are kids! That is to be expected. You found home in the manor of the winery, where every single member of staff came to love you dearly, always smiling and sounding fondly whenever âMy Ladyâ or âMadameâ leaves their lips both in your presence and absence. You have great friends - your close circle of old ones and the ones you befriended after stepping into your now-husbandâs circle, the best possible addition being his brotherâs family. His wife and daughter adore you and the feeling is wholeheartedly mutual. People of Mondstadt always loved you, but now they love you even more and are always excited to see the whole Ragnvindr family of four members in the city.
Sadly, not all people.
Sure, there is nothing wrong in someone not liking you and not approaching you as a couple of others would. After all, itâs impossible to be loved by everyone, there is no such person in the whole Teyvat. Itâs a completely different thing when someone openly despises you.
THEMES. Angst; Hurt (no or with) comfort; can be reversed comfort too; has varying intensities so there are others that has fluff/crack (im looking at you heizou and kazu)
WARNINGS. may emphasize ventiâs drinking on his partÂ
NOTES. I was supposed to post another one but I really canât stand not answering this request so good luck with two consecutive angst everyone~ Iâll post the other one next week!Â
ZHONGLI would look rather calm, no matter how big the argument was. He normally would not let the argument go further, but today was rather stressful, even for someone like him. With all the arguments at work and also to those who would ask for his help even when he was just on his way home, and now, everything piled up and he⌠maybe he needed a bit of rest.Â
âLet us discuss this tomorrow, beloved, I-â
However, all he heard was the sound of the doors closing, and there was no sight of you in the room. Â
He sighs heavily, thinking that you probably had only gone out of the room to calm down. Of course, he only realized he was the only one in the house when he woke up and thereâs still not a sight of you beside him. Startled, he stood up and found himself scavenging the entire houseâcould you have left him?âthis thought was all in his mind but as soon as he turned to the living room, there you were, sleeping so peacefully on the couch. He heaves out a sigh immediately, kneeling in front of you, taking your hands to his and bringing them to his lips. He had never in this life felt so anxiousâit had been awhile, he thinks, but maybe this was moreâŚ-
âZhongli?â He heard you call for his name by then, but before you could fully comprehend what was happening, he was hushing at you, whispering so slowly to not awaken you any further.Â
âThereâs no need to wake, my love.â Itâs going to be alright.Â
XIAO and you had been arguing for the whole week. Actually, he only showed up today after being gone for three straight days. Three! And now he expects you to pretend that everything is okay?Â
Scenario: Something leads the reader to say âLetâs stop seeing each other,â
Shortfic + Headcanon
Warnings: angst to fluff, not proofread
Characters:Â fem reader x Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo,Â
Scenario: Couple fights are normal. Sometimes you just say the wrong thing.
Diluc
Sometimes things in the winery are just out of order. Specially when the grapes are not in season, or simply when the accounts donât match up.
Despite that he still diligently looks after the people of Mondstadt in the shadows.
Heâs a very diligent man, and looks after you really well, but fights are inevitable sometimes when the two of you are on edge.
âDiluc, honey?â You call out to him softly, pushing the door to his office, a cup of tea in your hands. He looks up only briefly, a soft âMm,â from his lips as he pores over the papers again.
The accounts didnât match up. It looked as if they had spent more than they earned this month, and that really pissed him off. âHoney itâs nearly 5 in the morning, you need some sleep.â you gently chide him. Diluc glances at the tea you placed on the table and replies, voice flat, âIf you want me to sleep why did you bring me tea?â
You open your mouth to say something, but quickly realize that heâs in one of his moods. Your usual Diluc would say thank you, and say that heâd be there soonâeven if he wasnât, he was at least still nice and civil. âIâll take it away theââÂ
âStop. Justââ He still has good composure, because he pauses, knows that heâs about to say something stupid, takes a deep breath, lets it out just as slow and replies, âI appreciate it, Y/N, but youâve been in and out of here the whole day. Itâs a little distracting, why donât you go on ahead without me for tonight?âÂ
Perhaps it wouldnât have escalated if you just agreed, but you being you, concern was already evident on your face. âWell, likewise, youâve been sleeping late for the past week now, surely you can take one break in the week?â Diluc places his pen down in a slightly harsher thud of his hand and gazes at you pointedly. âAnd what? So that my work piles up and I have more next week?âÂ
warnings - crying, arguments, yelling, cursing in scara's, hints at abandonment issues, petnames (my love, dove, angel, sweetheart)
summary - after a heated argument, you storm off to get some air only to return hours later and find him with tears streaming down his face
a/n - i've seen a lot of those "genshin guys make you cry" hcs (and MMM are they deliciously angsty) but then i thought: what if the roles were reversed? and here we are :')
disclaimer - fights are gonna happen in any sort of relationship, but what matters is how you communicate about the problem :)
you hadn't expected things to go this way, the heat in the air was unthinkably hot and menacing as was the thick tension that wrapped around your throat so coarse and wiry, you felt your breathing halt.
faces warm and throats sore, how long had it been since you first brought up the topic? time itself seemed to still when the man you loved with all your heart stared back at you with boiling rage engraved in his usually loving eyes and an unsettling sneer on his soft lips.
words poured out of his mouth yet your ears remained numb as your battered heart filled the void and rammed against your eardrums. it was as if for miles all you could hear were his shouts and disgruntled comments, even the sharp jab or two where you were most vulnerable. what stabbed the most, however, was your reciprocation.
you were sure at least one of your comments had hit a nerve, but you saw red, red, red. and all courtesies began to fly out the window.
was it so selfish to wish that he'd set aside your differences and hold you so lovingly as he usually did? perhaps, yet your mind wandered to the realm of forgiveness and the dried tear paths on your cheeks ached for your mouth to split open and spew apologies.
but as angry as you were, you loved him. you loved him so much, the mere thought of his anger overshadowing his love for you had your knees buckling and breaths escaping the confines of your lungs.
"look, i'm going to cool off and then we can talk about it later." there was a defeated hum to your voice, one you'd find in a cornered animal who'd been slashed through their bellies and had nothing but adrenaline running through the thin crevices of their veins.
he expected you to storm off with stomped steps and an angry pout, but when you stepped forwards with shaking arms that wrapped around his torso so tightly, and pressed your lips to his clothed, thundering heart, his anger seemed to dissolve entirely.
the final icing on the cake was the whimpered "i love you," whispered against his heart from your lips.
and suddenly, your warmth disappeared from his chest and the click of your shoes began to fade away until all he was left with were echoes of your touch, and a throbbing heart that yearned for your presence.
content + scenarios utc!
windrise had such lovely breezes, and soon you found that your anger had seemingly fluttered away with the calming winds. your walk had allowed you time to think, of both the words diluc spoke and your own behavior. neither of you were very polite or mature about your handling of the matter, much to your chagrin.
after some thought collecting at the large tree near windrise, you legs found themselves dragging towards dawn winery where you had only been hours earlier engaged in the fight of your life, with the love of your life. what was it about? you hardly remembered anymore, but what you craved most was not vengeance or the ability to be right, but diluc's arms wrapped firm around your waist and his intoxicating scent of fresh grapes and aged wine. you longed to run your hands through his thick locks instead of pulling out your own, or feel his palm, gloved or bare, in your own instead of anxiously digging crescent shaped holes into the flesh of your palms.
the doors to the winery felt as heavy as led when you placed your hands and pushed with all your might.
the usual dim candles that illuminated the winery were nowhere to be seen; the entirety of the property seemed void of light and deprived of the usual staff scurrying about. the pit in your throat began to jostle your insides but you swallowed it down with firm resolution and set off in search of diluc.
his usual spot, tableside by the fireplace, was devoid of warmth or any semblance of his being save for the reading glasses he often wore while tending to the winery's paperwork. you clutched the pair of spectacles in your hand and prodded around each room with bated breath, hoping to see the familiar mop of red hair.
just as you ascended the stairs and began to approach his office, your heart stilled as did your breath: the faintest of whimpers met your ears in a sorrowful kiss and the creeping hesitance that had been brewing in the deepest confines of your stomach had begun to resurface.
as gently as you could, you approached his office and peered inside.
the mighty diluc, so strong and so brave, looked much more akin to a lost child as he sat slumped in his chair, elbows placed limply on his desk while his hands took it upon themselves to hold his head over countless stray pieces of paperwork. his red locks had fallen out of its usual composed ponytail and poured out in waterfalls over his skin and desk. even from this strained angle, you could see the small splatters of teardrops that fell onto the documents below his face. and sweet barbatos, with every one of his muffled cries and sobs, you felt your heart break and scatter into pieces, a sharp bite coming to tingle at the ends of your eyes when your name passed his lips in a hoarse and whispered voice.
diluc seemed not to notice you as you approached with cautious steps and gently set his reading glasses down in front of him on his lacquered, wooden desk. the gentle stroke of your hand on his head was what tore him from the wallowing fields of his hands.
his eyes scanned over your body, his own hand hesitantly reaching up to overlap the hand you placed on his head. upon feeling the smoothness of your skin and the bumps of your knuckles, diluc bolted from his chair and wrapped his arms so, so tight around your body. the usual solid cadence of his voice felt wobbly and unstable as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck and shook with sobs. you squeezed back with equal force and ran a soothing hand through his mangled locks.
"i thought...i thought you left me," he managed to sputter out in between lulls of choked cries and sharp inhales.
a single tear slipped down your cheek, "shh i'm here now, i wouldn't leave you just like that." and how true it was that you never would.
you pulled his face from your neck and swiped away at the moisture that coated his face. the rims of his scarlet eyes pooled with a never-ending stream of tears. his skin felt hot to the touch as your nimble fingers worked to rub away his sorrow. diluc's hand found its way up to cup your cheek and brushed away at the stray tears that trickled down from the reservoir hidden behind your eyes.
"i'm so sorry, my love. i meant none of what i said, i truly do love you with all my heart. if i had been more mature about it-"
"no, diluc," you gently placed the soft of your palm against his lips to silence him, "don't blame yourself like that. i'm at fault as well, and i'm sorry." the tip of your nose brushed against his before aiming to slot your lips against his for a tender, chaste kiss.
"we can talk about it after you've calmed down, okay?" you asked once pulling away. he nodded in reply and returned his face to your shoulder, allowing his tears to be absorbed by the heat of your skin all while you cradled him in your arms and whispered words of love and reassurance into his hair.
the muffled "i love you" from your shoulder had you weak in the knees, and it was then that you knew that the both of you would be okay, especially when you replied with an "i love you too" in return.
cider lake was breathtaking at night: from the dancing glimmers of moonlight atop its rippling surface, to the gentle, cooling breeze that came in from the lake water. shoes clutched in one hand, your bare feet made soft footfalls and left behind imprints of your existence in the grainy, mushy sand.
surrounded by tranquility, you finally had a moment to breath and think back to your argument with kaeya. you no doubt felt terrible, both for losing your cool and the sharp imprints of his words that still left impact wounds on your heart. it was almost as though kaeya could target your worst insecurities and zero in on them like heat seeking missiles, and he never failed to miss.
but you knew deep within that it was both of your yelling, both of your disagreements that led to where you are now. and with the calming brush of cider lake's waters against your ankles, you knew you were calm enough to talk things out with kaeya. after all, you loved him, flaws and all.
the favonius headquarters were ominous to some at night, but you glided through the lacquered halls with ease, taking great care to empty your shoes of sand and water first. it wasn't the menacing darkness of the halls that worried you, rather the gentle trickle of candlelight from kaeya's office that urged you to turn around and discuss things in the morning. but you knew that you wanted to fix this, that you'd rather fall asleep tonight knowing you could wake up to his charming smile rather than cold sheets.
despite the glow that poured in from his office into the dark halls, only a single candle had been lit by his deskside instead of the usual four or five that he'd placed around the office. instead of facing his desk, kaeya's chair had been turned to gaze outside the large, paneled window that sat behind his desk. from his office, cider lake stretched on and glimmered under the moonlight for as far as the eye could see. with his cheek propped up by his elbow that rested on the arm of the chair, you almost thought he had been sleeping if not for the slightly ragged breaths emitted from his lips.
you cautiously knocked on the wood of his door, "kaeya? it's me."
the man in front of you hardly moved, transfixed on the gentle sloshes of crystal clear water in front of him.
"kaeya, please don't ignore me," your feet felt like on his wooden floors as you approached his chair, "i came here to tell you how sorry i am, not to fight anymore-"
the rest of your sentence fell flat in your throat as you finally came face to face with kaeya.
kaeya whose eyepatch had long since fallen to the floor and laid by his boots. whose hidden, milky eye seemed lost and confused. kaeya whose eyes gently trickled with silent tears. he hadn't noticed your presence until your thumb came to gently swipe away a tear from under his normally hidden eye. he seemed to flip a switch on as his usual seductive (though strained) grin formed on his face.
"finally come crawling back, sweetheart?" and if not for the warble of his voice or the tears cascading down this face, you'd think he was alright.
"oh kaeya," your hand gently pushed kaeya's head into the soft expanse of your body and wrapped around his broad shoulders, "i'm so sorry."
he sat motionless for a while before his arms pulled your body closer to his, and you felt the small vibrations of his hiccups through the cloth of your attire.
"m' so sorry, dove. i didn't mean what i said to you, i promise."
you gently shushed him and stroked the top of his head, "i know, i know, kaeya. i'm sorry too, we both handled it wrong."
your lips pressed themselves against his soft locks, then moved downwards to his forehead, then nose, and finally his quivering lips, sucking away the last of his breaths from deep within his lungs.
"i thought you left me, for good this time." his voice dripped with hesitance as he raised the heel of his palm to his forehead and humorlessly laughed, a strained smile on his face.
"somehow it's always the people i love the most that i hurt, it really is quite funny." despite his words, kaeya sounded so, so sad, as if he'd break under your fingertips.
the words you wanted to speak didn't seem to fit quite right, so instead you opted to squeeze tighter around his body to let him know how real you were, and let him know that you haven't left him.
"i hurt you too, kaeya. and i'm sorry, very sorry. but we can talk about it later, okay?" he didn't respond, but from the gentle, forwards tug of your arm that had you sitting with your legs slung over his lap and the tight grip of his arms around your torso, you had all the answers you needed.
"i love you, i'll always be here for you." you murmured just under a breath as your lips found solace pressing against the eyelid that held his hidden eye.
the gnawing pain in his heart began to slowly ease with every lingering touch you left upon his skin.
zhongli had once told you that the best way to relax in the famed port of liyue was to sit by the docks and count the ships as they entered in and out of the city.
you hadn't expected a use for this fact, nor for him to be right.
your legs dangled over one of the wooden piers, eyes trained on the elegant and grandiose ship that seemed to sparkle with gold in the setting rays of the sun. counting the ships and pointing our their details in accompaniment of a lovely, gentle sea breeze and the smell of salt in the air had given you time to reflect on your fight with childe.
his hair trigger temper and impulsiveness were things you never usually found yourself the victim of, not until today at least. you'd felt fear but never like this, not fear where the man you loved was at the center of it all. fear that he'd leave you, fear that he'd hate you, fear that you were the main source of his anger at that moment.
the momentum of your feet stilled as you recalled the way in which his voice would take on a tender tone in the early hours of the morning, or when his arms would sneak around your sides to startle you out of whatever task you were preoccupied with. you could never lie to yourself: you missed him dearly despite your argument.
which is how you found yourself alone in northland bank, shoes making gentle clicking sounds on the marble floors in search of childe's office. the fear that had been building up in you had manifested into sweat that trickled down your forehead and the nervous clench of your palms. his office was barren of his presence save for the closet door that looked like it had been flung wide open and the scattered mess of papers on his desk that you had helped him organized.
"are you looking for lord tartaglia?"
you turned your head around to face ekaterina, who send you a polite smile hidden beneath the fabric of her mask. you nod in response, unsure of what was to come.
"i'm afraid he just set out, his location was undisclosed." you frowned in response but thanked her nonetheless from preventing your fruitless search.
night had fallen when you emerged from the bank, eyes wide and wandering in search of the familiar head of ginger that you loved so much. your lead-heavy legs dragged you to the outskirts of the city where the hills began to climb and grass rolled heavy at your feet and tickled your ankles. you almost hadn't registered the slight thump of the footsteps behind you.
"(y/n)?"
you turned around at the sound of your name only to be met in a crushing hug by none other than childe himself. "childe?!" startled, your mind instinctively moved to wrap your arms around his waist and run up and down his back. it was only under your touch that you noticed the heave of his shoulder and the slight rasp of his voice.
his shaking hands gently pulled your body away from his to peer into the galaxies contained within your irises and it was then that you noticed the slight reddening of his eyes, the flush of his face, and the tears that cascaded down his cheeks in silent waterfalls. "i-i've been looking all over for you, angel, i-" he tried to speak but it was as if you could see the words getting caught in between coughed sobs and whimpers that pierced your heart and had you beckoning him back into your arms.
your own eyes began to water and soon slipped into a silent river of tears when his arms clutched your body with his life and his sobs heaved themselves into you.
"i'm so sorry, for losing my temper with you. i-i didn't mean it i swear! i just- i'm-"
"hey, hey, childe it's okay," like a lullaby, your soothing voice brought him back from the deep wrangling tentacles of his mind and cradled him in your warmth, "i'm sorry too, i wasn't very nice to you either. but let's talk about it when we're both not a mess, sound good?" the little laugh to the tail end of your sentence still somehow managed to send butterflies through his stomach. even with tears streaming down your face, he still found you so beautiful.
he nodded and kissed your wet lips with all that he was in a silent promise to both himself, and you.
scaramouche's sharp tongue never hurt, never pierced past the protective layer you donned when you took on the title of the balladeer's lover. but it seemed your shield had worn thin, and his venomous tongue had managed to stab holes through your heart and lathered your soul in poison.
you were thankful just this once for the shogun's principle of eternity. in the land that never changed, you found solace in letting the sea breezes of narukami's beaches lull you into a dream where scaramouche's words didn't sink their fangs into your soul, and where you didn't retaliate with arguments that made no sense and were fueled by anger.
but dreams were dreams, and you opened your eyes to the stinging reality that laid before you. bare feet clinging to remnants of sand, your shoes had been discarded on a rock in favor of strolling through the waves at ankle length, letting the water cleanse you of your anger and the breeze to soothe your battered heart.
it wasn't like scaramouche at all to lash out at you, sure his tongue was sharper than any knife he wielded, but you knew just how much he treasured you even if his words betrayed his heart. and it was that single thought that had you picking up your shoes and hurrying back to the little cottage scaramouche had managed to haggle into his hands.
your feet ached and burned from scratching against the dirt path, but you wanted nothing more than to hold him in your arms and tell him just how sorry you were, and hoped that he'd hear the prayers deep within your heart.
the doorknob felt all too heavy in your sweaty palm as you struggled to turn it. perhaps this was fate screaming at you to run far, far away, but fate has never enticed you into its grips, so you turned the doorknob.
the house hummed with silence and basked itself in the glow of the moonlight, devoid of any candles or electro spheres that scaramouche often used to illuminate the home.
"scara?" you called out tentatively in a small voice. with no reply, you heaved a sigh and set your sights on finding whichever corner of the house he'd gone off to.
you didn't need to look far, as a single glance into his home office revealed to you that he hadn't moved an inch since you left the house in a flurry of emotions earlier that day. hunched over his desk, elbows on the wood and head resting on his folded knuckles white from gripping onto thin air.
"scara?" at the gentle call of his name and upon seeing your worried look, he flinched.
"what do you want?" sharp as ever, he refused to look you in the eye and settled for huffing away and favoring a corner of the room. his sleeve came to brush across his eyes and you thought nothing of it.
"i want to talk, if you're willing." as if to test the waters, you took a cautious step forward. with the click of your shoe on the hardwood, scaramouche rose from his desk and slammed his palms face down onto the lacquered wood.
"i don't. leave." you would have respected his wishes, if not for the single glimmer of a tear that streaked down his flushed face illuminated by the moonlight.
"are you sure-"
"LEAVE! I SAID LEAVE! GO AWAY!" the sudden outburst hadn't phased you the way his rolling tears and choked sobs did. he tried to scream more profanities and "go away!"s at you, but his words were nestled between the crook of muffled cries and whimpers. instead of leaving, you found yourself coming closer and closer until your arms had found their way around his shoulders and your hand began to stroke his soft locks.
scaramouche thrashed and screamed threats and murderous words that would've had anyone else's blood boiling, but you knew from the salty tears that cascaded down his cheeks that he was just as hurt as you were.
"i'm not leaving you like this, scara." you cooed as the hand that had been stroking his hair moved to wipe away the tears from his eyes.
those words alone seemed to break the dam that had been holding back all of his tears, even if they came out in angry glares and single drops of tears rather than sobs. his hesitant arms found their way around your waist and squeezed tightly.
"why...why do you stay with me?" he asked in an out of character, soft, tentative voice that strained with emotion. "i can't watch my mouth...and you put up with all my bullshit. i don't get it."
"that's an easy question, it's because i love you, dummy." with a watery laugh and tears of your own in your eyes, you pressed a chaste kiss first to his cheek, then to his parted lips which tasted of salty tears and indulgence.
"and, i'm sorry for our fight earlier. we can talk things out later though, for now i wanna give you some cuddles." cheekily, you made grabby motions with your hands and smiled despite the evident tears on your face.
his pride would never allow him to mumble those sugary apologies you yearned to hear, but scaramouche had a way of speaking to you in which no words were needed. the slight tug of his arms around your waist and his muffed breaths accompanied by the burning touch of his skin and tears in his eyes were all you needed to know how sorry he was.
all your worries washed away as did the tears on his face fade when you reciprocated his love as best you could despite his flaws.
When you died, his world collapsed, it felt like it lost color and his life suddenly held no meaning, living suddenly felt pointless, useless. What was the point of being alive now that you're gone?
You were his motivation, his life line, his home, Where will he return? Who else would understand him, and never judge him? Who else would be willing to love him for him? You were his pillar and he was yours, you were his everything. So what is he suppose to do now? He can't bring himself to even think about replacing you, no he will never love anyone the way he loves you, no one can even compare to you.
"It's time to move on from them, they're in a better place now" Someone attempts to console him, and with the way they had worded it as if you were easy to replace, as if you were easy to forget had his blood boiling
"Don't fucking tell me they're in a better place when they belong here with me."
Who I think could fit this: Diluc, Ayato, Kaeya, Childe, Scaramouche, Dottore, Pantalone, Capitano
his voice is nothing but a whisper, but itâs enough to stir you awake from your sleep.
âdonât leave me.â
you search for his body in bed, a gentle hand wandering through the sheets in search of warmth. you find childe in your sleepy haze, worry rushing through your system when you hear his words.
âi donât care about anyone else, but youâŚyou canât leave.â
you shuffle in bed to face him, rubbing your eyes as you sit up only to see his trembling body as his pleas echo in his sleep.
âpleaseâŚâ
your hand reaches toward his cheek, sucking in a breath when you realize itâs stained with his tears. heâs shaking, sniffles rack through his body as his desperate cries grow softer and softer.
âhey,â you whisper as your hand traces back to his arm. âwake up.â
he doesnât hear your words, still stuck in his supposed nightmare.
âajax,â you call out, âwake up, itâs only a dream, wake up.â you shake him a little more, pushing him onto his back before watching carefully as his sniffles begin to die down and his eyes blearily open. he stares up at you wordlessly, âhi,â you smile. âit was only a nightmare, youâre safe.â
and thatâs all you need to say before he sits up and holds you tightly in his arms.
premise. snippets of daily life between a humble servant and an increasingly clingy master.
word count. 5.4k
note. reader full of snark + dumbass in love ayato = gratuitous amount of banter. i have to say that ayato never goes out of line though, and you're not actually bothered by his advances; you're just a massive tsundere.
âWith all due respect, I don't believe being your headrest is part of my duty, my lord.â
âIs that so?â
The noncommittal response pointedly marks the end of his acknowledgement as Ayato makes no effort to sit up, remaining slumped against your frame. His head rests upon your shoulder, a ticklish sensation blooming where your neck and chin meet. Light blue hair trail prickling heat where it grazes your skin, an itch you can't quite scratch away.
Even so, the discomfort doesn't reflect on your face, frigid expression carefully layered with blankness. His sinking weight fails to impede your immaculate posture, refined poise a great disparity from his leisurely disposition. It paints an odd picture, the ordinarily faultless heir lacking decorumâthough granted the freedom to do as he wishes in the private confines of his room, it is a mystery why a servant such as you is... graciously permitted to bask in his exclusive company. In the private confines of his room. You feel the need to emphasize that detail.
In his hands lay a scroll concerning governmental affairs, urgent matters that demand his attention, so you can't begin to comprehend why he insists on using this time to harass reward a lowly attendant with his valuable presence when there is business to attend to.
He leans more of his weight to your side, and heâyou nearly sputter indignantlyâmimics an action that can almost be described as nuzzling. âMhm. This is convenient for me, since I've hardly found the time to rest today. Do you find it intolerable?â
Ignoring the last bit, you advise, âPerhaps it would be more effective if you were to rest in your chambers. I will come call when the Kanjou Commission asks for you.â
He pretends to consider it for a moment, the silence filled with the quiet jingle of wind chimes. But predictably, the corners of his mouth hook up to an impish smile. âI would prefer to stay, if you don't mind?â
Resigned to your fate, you can only say, âOf course not, my lord.â
For reasons you cannot fathom, the head of the Kamisato household harbors a strong attachment to you.
In normal circumstances, this fact would be taken as great news; presently, you are little more than puzzled and unfeeling. Rather than delight, dread stirs in your stomach whenever he calls your name in a volume louder than necessaryâa conscious decision, you presume, since he seems to interact with other servants just fine. Curt and polite, keeping his words concise, preventing further delay from addressing his responsibilities.
Had you not known better, you wouldn't be able to identify him as the same man who indulges in trivialities when he invites you to share snacks, engaging in frivolous chatter over tea and pastries. With increasing frequency nonetheless, and with varying refreshments each time to boot, an assortment of exquisite wagashi produced only by the best. Strawberry daifuku on one tea break, mizu-yokan on the next, sakura mochi on the day after that... You've been serving him for a considerable amount of time, but he's never been much of a sweet tooth until as of late.
Ayato hums thoughtfully, savoring the sweet taste on his tongue. âThe mild flavor is pleasant. I believe it might be to your liking.â
He offers you a cup, steam curling above the warm brew. The pink beverage glistens beneath the sunlight, rippling with movement when you take it into your hands. It doesn't require much thinking to conclude the tea leaves must've cost a fortune, but it leaves you plenty of questions just as well. Why would a benefactor give you a taste of luxury?
But you would be a fool not to appreciate it while it lasts, so you lift the cup for a sip.
The flavor of spring bursts in your mouth, fragrant and tasting of sweet nectar. Your frosty guise wavers under the bribery, bliss crossing your face before your lips quirk up to a small, almost imperceptible smile.
Deeming your elated reaction satisfactory, Ayato nudges the plate of confections towards your side of the table. âEat. They pair well with the tea.â
Who are you to say no to your lord? Therefore, the correct choice must be to accept his gifts with gratitude!
(Distracted by desserts, you fail to see his amusement in the way you stuff your cheeks full adorably like a chipmunk.
But he's aware it's not the right time yet, so he suppresses the urge to pinch your face.)
Kamisato Ayato is often praised for his intellect and cunning mind, but sometimes you wonder if he'd finally gone stupid. It was only a matter of time.
âMy hand feels cold,â he laments, as if he hadn't chucked away his gloves ten seconds prior. âCan I hold yours for a moment?â
Ayaka, for her part, looks ashamed on her brother's behalf. With a graceful flick of her wrist, her fan snaps open and obscures the mortified expression on her face. Thoma's bottom lip quivers, valiantly repressing his bubbling laughter though he turns quite ugly in the process.
Sending a prayer to the heavens, you hope your face looks as unreadable as you think it to be. â...I'll fetch you a pair of gloves,â you say, side-stepping the pair he just abandoned on the floor.
âMhm. That won't be necessary,â he counters, tugging on the edge of your sleeve. âYou see, I heard those granted Pyro Visions have warmer body temperature...â
That is undoubtedly a lie he conjures up on the spot.
â...So I was hoping to sate my curiosity today,â he finishes, looking far too pleased with himself. Ayaka avoids your gaze when your eyes sweep past her (she absolutely knows it's an idiotic idea because going by that logic, she should have a colder temperature... but that is obviously not the case), and Thoma is blatantly ignoring your requests for assistance, whistling an awkward tune.
You have half a mind to shift the responsibility to another retainer similarly bearing a Pyro Vision, who is currently trying his hardest to stifle his pained grunts when you pinch his forearm admonishingly, but there's really no way out of this. Ayato would certainly craft another bullshit reason to coax you anyway. (A part of you thinks it might be fun to keep up the charade just to hear what he'll say next.)
You hold up your hand, and Ayato's eyes flicker with mischief. His slender fingers wrap around your wrist, brushing over the jut of your bone. He marvels at the size of it, dwarfed by his large hands, and he curls his fingers tighter.
...He doesn't seem to be assessing your temperature.
But you are mindful of his, a searing heat devouring your senses. His light touches settle heavily on your skin, a prominent warmth amidst the cold gale. Where his fingers rest leave imprints of fire, trails of scorched ash in his wake.
Experimentally, his thumb rubs circles on your palm, tracing over the lines. He rolls the soft flesh, staring at the small cuts and calluses with an attentive eye. Burning the image into his mind. Fiddling with the shape of your fingers. Then, following a brief hitch of his breath, he fits his own in the spaces between yours.
His hand is soft, you think to yourself. Without the presence of leather, it is fully bare, pale and dusted with pink. His knuckles are pronounced, palm surprisingly unscarred in spite of vigorous sword practice, but a writer's callus lays on his ring finger. It is easy to imagine his frame hunched over his desk, pen between his fingers, ink running dry from writing back to missives and signing endless contracts.
(And responding to engagement offers. You would know. They clutter his workspace, scented letters branded by wax seals of a distinguished family's emblem.
He barely throws a cursory glance at them before giving his never changing answer.)
When he gives your hand a squeeze, you finally ask, âIs it warm?â
âYes.â He sounds somewhat strangled, there, less confident than he was before he took your hand. âVery warm.â
He reluctantly parts with it, stepping back to reduce your close proximity. Ayaka fans herself as she scrutinizes his reddening complexion, and Thomaâpartial to the lord, you see, even though he wasn't very eager to lend you a hand beforeâmakes some excuse about a meeting he has to attend to (some beetle fight with Itto, most likely) and if you'd kindly excuse their presence.
â...Please pardon my brother's strange behavior,â Ayaka murmurs when only the both of you remain in the room. âHe could be quite straightforward when his curiosity is piqued. He doesn't have weird intentions, really.â
She doesn't appear to believe it herself, but you appreciate her attempts to clean up Ayato's mess.
âIt's no trouble, milady.â You flash a placating smile for good measure, reaching down to collect the discarded gloves Thoma nearly tripped on in his way out. âBut I'm afraid I'll have to take my leave now as well...â
âYes, of course! You may go.â
Following her affirmation, you scramble to take a duster and retreat to clean the library.
At least she doesn't comment on your flushed cheeks and colored ears. Small mercies. (There's only so much composure you can exhaust within one day.)
For all that you (privately) complain about the extensive list of chores to tackle in the Kamisato Estate, you find tending to the garden fairly enjoyable. Alas, you can't exactly spend the whole day pruning the shrubbery; the smile on your face drops when you're sent to go on a shopping trip. Worse still, with no one to assist you in carrying the groceries. Thoma has already promised to accompany Ayaka for a mission, and everyone else is busy preparing for the Kamisato head's upcoming business trip.
Said Kamisato head is apparently âfreeâ and âhas the spare time to helpâ despite being the one who should be busy holing himself up in his office.
Regardless of your protests, Ayato insists on tagging along to the market. Which brings you to your current situation, your employer dutifully carrying bundles of cloth and a basket of radishes and carrots with an easygoing smile, while your hands remain empty. He is... considerate, if you were to speak in flowery words. He is stubborn, if you were to be blunt.
However, he is relatively obedient, save for the handful of times he rushes off to chase something that caught his eye. As a result, he keeps purchasing cheap trinkets he'll probably have no use for and his pocket is brimming of candy he sometimes stuffs your mouth with when you have something to scold him for. (To be fair, it's very effective for shutting you up.)
âPlease don't interrupt me from speaking,â your words are partly muffled, mouth still chewing on the confection. Ayato smiles innocently, pressing another piece of sugar to your lips.
âWhere are we headed next?â He questions, looking around the bustling streets as he tucks the jar of konpeito candy in his sleeve. âDo you still have vegetables you need to buy?â
You shake your head. âNo, the cook said he's only missing radishes and carrots in particular. I've also gotten the materials needed to mend clothes Thoma asked for.â
He deflates at that, disappointment painting his expression. âI suppose we're returning, then?â
You purse your lips, considering your options. It isn't like you were told to come back an appointed time, and you could always blame Ayato for your tardiness... âDoes my lord wish to visit anywhere specifically?â
The river of stars in his eyes twinkle ever so slightly, flashing a thinly-veiled childish gleam. âNot anything I could think of at the top of my head. Do you have any recommendations in mind?â
âRecommendations?â
âPlaces you like to visit.â
During your free time, you usually look around to shop for clothing or accessories... but they're nowhere near the quality befitting of nobles. The yukata isn't tailored to your size, made from cheaper cloth of cotton, and aren't as decorative to what your lord is used to; it's what makes it affordable. Whereas Ayato is often dressed in luxurious silks, embellished with golden thread and customized to his liking.
âIt's no harm to bring you there... I guess.â You scratch your cheek. âThough I can't guarantee you'll like it.â
âNonsense.â He smiles amicably. He reaches for the basket before you can grab it, gesturing for you to start walking. âI'm sure I'll have a good time regardless where it is.â
And... he does. He marvels at the extravagant brocades displayed at boutiques, wondering how one could possibly wear so many heavy layers. Though he doesn't buy clothes for himself, he decides to buy a cute purse he thinks his sister would appreciate.
Ayato expresses interest in ornaments and cosmetics as well, to which the shop owner proceeds to happily introduce her entire catalogue for a man she knows has deep pockets. He doesn't disappoint.
âYou don't want anything?â He asks when you only answer his questions pertaining to Ayaka's preferences, two steps behind, never taking the opportunity to roam and search for potential additions in your wardrobe.
It's not that you haven't seen anything you'd like to take home, per se. More like everything is too expensive for your pocket money in this high-end portion of town. âNo,â you say instead, because it's easier to explain that way.
He tilts his head inquisitively, but doesn't push the topic. âHelp me choose a hair pin then. You know what fits Ayaka best.â
He leads you to the display case housing rows of hair ornaments, each one more remarkable than the next. The last one, undoubtedly the most costly whose price would make you weep, teeters on the edge of gaudy. Adorned with silver butterflies, tear drop sapphires, gems delicately shaped like dewy petals and white pearls sitting atop carved gold, they almost blind your eyes.
â...She'd look beautiful in everything,â is the conclusion you come to, because you speak nothing but the truth. âBut please don't buy everything. She will get mad at you.â
âI know,â he sighs. âThat's why I needed your help picking one.â
You almost drill holes to the items with how hard you're staring at them, but you eventually point at the pin with pink blossoms. âThis would contrast nicely with her hair.â
âMhm. If you say so,â he hums approvingly, tracing the sculpted leaves.
âThen if that's all, I'll go pay...â
âAh, which reminds me.â He spins on his heel to face you, lips shaped into an apologetic smile. âI'm nearly running out of parchment paper. Could you stop by the stationery store up front? I'll handle things from here and meet you by the entrance.â
âOf course, my lord.â
On your way outside, you resolutely do not allow your curious gaze to steer towards the tables of sparkling jewelry.
--
The trip back to the estate is uneventful, and the rest of the afternoon passes like any other.
Perhaps the only inconsistency in your repetitive days is the accidental nap you fall into, blanketed in warm rays of sunshine and caressed by the refreshing breeze slipping past ajar doors, your cheek resting on the surface of the table you were supposed to be cleaning. How uncouth of me, you think as you wipe your mouth to check for signs of drool. Your only respite is not having anyone witness you in such a state, otherwise you would've long been rudely awakened and received an earful of chastising.
...Is what you think, until you spot a foreign ring you definitely do not recall putting on.
It curls around your finger, dotted with crystals in a hue of blue you're all too familiar with. You see it everyday, gleaming in mischief, darkening with intrigue. Framed by long, long lashes, crinkling at the corners when filled with mirth. Crashing torrents that freeze in displeasure yet inexplicably gentle the moment they meet your eyes, akin to gentle sea waves that pad to your feet.
(You wonder if this is why he insisted on touching your hands so much, just to roughly measure your ring size.)
âI hope you fare well during my absence. Fear not, I will do my best not to prolong my leave.â
The way his words sound so self-assured and full of conviction doesn't sit well with you, and the genuine pity reflected in his irises almost makes your eyebrow twitch. You haven't even spoken a word before he began his theatrics.
âTake as long as you need,â you reassure him. âMy lord mustn't rush his work.â
He wilts, but he perks right back up, âNo need to put up a front. I'll come back for you.â
Incorrigible.
âThen I await your safe return.â You bow deeply as you swallow back a sigh of defeat, the other servants lined up on either side of the street moving accordingly.
âPlease be careful,â Ayaka bids when she walks in front of him. âI've heard of bandits intercepting carriages to steal... I don't mean to undermine your abilities, but you should still be vigilant of trouble.â
Ayato laughs at that. âYou don't have to worry, Ayaka. They'll sooner surrender before they lay a single scratch on me.â Glancing at the supplies being loaded on his carriage, he grimaces slightly. âI better get going. I'll see you all in three weeks.â
He climbs to the interior, giving you a final smile before closing the door. You stare at the carriage until it fully disappears, the trotting of horses out of earshot. When Thoma begins to walk back to the estate, you fall into step with him, matching his strides.
âThe lord hasn't left for this long in a while,â he comments, to which you hum in agreement. âThink you'll miss him?â
âThree weeks is hardly a long time,â you retort back, complacent for the rare period of peace to follow the next month. âHe'll return in no time, as if he'd never been gone in the first place.â
Thoma eyes you strangely at that, but says no more. âIf you say so.â
--
The first day is bliss. No disruptions in your work, no unwanted conversation partner as a distraction, no midnight snacks needed to be prepared for the clan head a weird mix between workaholic and slacker.
The second day proves to be the same. No incessant chatter in your ear as you sweep the floor, no complaints for a stack of paperwork to be done within the day, no sudden requests of a shoulder massage for a job well done deserving of a reward.
The third day, you feel like your schedule is lacking, blank spots of free time sprinkled in between.
Ah, right. The tea breaks.
You tell yourself you only miss the fragrant tea, the selection of treats given to you by the young master's generosity. Not his thoughtful commentary for the taste, the chuckles spilling from his lips when you respond to his quips, the brief moments of eye contact before you resume your respective duties.
The fourth day, you're sent to hang the laundry. You tell yourself you don't miss a certain someone's abrupt appearance, poking a head through the sheets to startle you, huffing bright peals of laughter when he attains his desired reaction.
The fifth day, the cook requests your help to prep dinner. My lord doesn't like this dish, the sentence almost leaves your tongue as your eyes track down the recipe when you remember right, he's not here, and milady likes this dish, so it's one of the few chances she gets to eat it.
The sixth day, you clean his office. You organize the account books, restock his collection of pens and paper, and shuffle through his mail to sort them by category (definitely not noting down the number of letters asking for his hand in marriage). Your face flushes slightly when an unassuming bookmark falls out of a book you pick up from the floor, familiar flowers pressed thinly to fit between the pages. (You have only given those flowers on a whim, plucking fresh blossoms from plants you grew outside the Kamisato's garden. You didn't think he'd keep it around; they're not nearly as fancy as what his family owns.)
By the seventh day, you begin to doubt the calendar. There is no way it's only been a single week.
--
âHow do I look?â
âPositively charming,â is your dry answer.
âYou're not looking.â
Your eyes flit to Thoma's attire. âI am.â
He shakes his head, taking off the robes he's been trying on. âYou're always daydreaming nowadays. What are you thinking about?â
Reminiscing the last time you visited this clothing store, which is when you brought the young master in your shopping trip, and also presumably when he bought the ring for you. Recently, you've taken to pondering over the specifics; did he commission it beforehand? But how would he have known for certain you'd be visiting the store that day to give it to you later that afternoon? You were only planning to get groceries... Unless he was planning to give it another time? If so, in what occasion did he want to present it as a gift? What prompted him to give it to you earlier? ...Did he see your longing gaze on the jewelry?!
No, no, no, you made sure none of that showed on your face... Did he mean to give it to you that day? He somehow predicted you'd cave to his whims and show him around town? Then when you were gone, he retrieved the ring he commissioned, hitting two birds with one stone in a single trip?
...Knowing your sly lord, the idea isn't so far-fetched to be unbelievable...
To this day, you have yet to solve the mystery. But Thoma doesn't need to know your current musings. You shake your head. âIt's nothing. Are you buying it?â
âSince you kindly gave an approving opinion, sure.â His tone drips with sarcasm as he takes out his money pouch, paying for the clothes. âI think I don't need the answer from you, actually. I'm confident I have an accurate guess.â
Your eyebrows knit together. âWhat do you mean by that?â
âWho else would linger in your mind?â Thoma sighs in dramatic fashion, stepping out of the premises with you not far behind. âDistance makes the heart grow fonder, after all.â
Bristling, you vehemently refute, âI'm not thinking inappropriately of the lord, if that's what you're implying.â
âI didn't mention any names.â
âBut you clearly meant him.â
He holds up his hands. âIf that's what you want to believe, suit yourself.â
His gaze drops to the ring wrapped around your finger. The ring has been a topic of interest for the gossip mongers within the estate, wondering who you could've received it from; what other implications can wearing a ring have? Your cold exterior is no secret, your heart guarded with thorns, so who was able to sweep you off your feet in the end?
Thoma only needed one look at the shade of blue to make a correct guess.
â...I'm sure at this point, you know of his intentions,â Thoma says slowly. âAnd I have plenty of reasons to believe his affections aren't entirely unrequited.â
If they were, you would have brushed off Ayato already, just like you always do with the others. He may be persistent, but he knows how to back off. Yet the most you do is sigh and spoil him, albeit in (fond) exasperation.
âEven if they aren't...â You fidget with the hem of your shirt, averting your gaze from his blazing eyes, â...it doesn't mean we'll work. I'm certain he has better prospects for a spouse, anyway.â
âYou mean those daughters from noble families?â He snorts. âHe'd barely give them the time of day before running back to you. You should know that by now. Don't you remember when he faked being sick in that lunch meeting so you could take care of him?â
Of course you do. He had pretended to be in a dizzy spell, collapsing on your shoulder and making furtive hand signals asking for your help to get the lovesick maiden off his back. There really is no way to reject people like her without offending his business associate, so he tended to evade confrontations in roundabout ways.
You could excuse his clingy behavior out of necessity; it would be disgraceful to collapse on the floor, after all. The problem lies with the aftermath where you had already steered clear of the trouble but he insists on requiring treatment, body calculatively feeble as he gives you woeful pleas.
In another world, perhaps this would've been a heart-rending experience: a cold man who didn't share his burdens with others asking help from you specifically, because you were special and he trusted you the most.
In this world though, the act is only deserving of a derisive snort. He pulled off this plot for who knows how many times. How would holding your hand help with his throbbing headache anyway?
(You ignore the fact you indulge him each time regardless.)
âIn any case, the lord is returning in a week. Not much time left for you to mope.â He laughs even as you elbow his side.
A week.
(That is one week too long.)
--
When Ayato returns five days short of three weeks, you aren't there to greet him.
Instead, you are sick in bed, bundled in a pile of blankets, and suffering from a stuffy nose.
Ah, and delirious from fever. Very much so.
So when Ayato miraculously appears in your bedroom earlier than scheduled, you only sniff in response and brush him off as a hallucination.
But of course, your dismissive attitude isn't enough to discourage him from pestering you and running his mouth. He hovers by your bedside, noting with glee that you keep his ring on a nightstand close by. âThis is rare. I don't think I've ever seen you ill.â
But you've seen him plenty, frail and weak after days straight of sleepless nights. He doesn't look too pretty in such a mood, quick-tempered and sharp-tongued at the slightest annoyance. He only ever softens when your expression flits to dismay for a fraction of a second before dutifully offering him prescribed medicine from the family's physician, the saddened expression gone like a mirage.
âHow are you this annoying even in my dreams...â
As it turns out, you're even more of a worse case than he is.
âMhm. Your filter is completely shut down when you're sick, huh.â Ayato laughs, amused at the surprising revelation. He doesn't get to be the receiving end of your blunt words very often. âAlright. How bad do you feel right now?â
âTerrible, since it's the ass crack of dawn.â
It is not the ass crack of dawn, but you wouldn't know any better with the folding screens obscuring the orange glow of the evening. âDo you have an appetite? I'll have a servant bring a meal.â Then, he slyly adds, âI can feed you, if you want me to.â
He doesn't know which part of that statement appeals to you the most but you sit up straight, attentive.
Interesting.
Though Ayato meant it in jest, he has no complaints scooping spoonfuls of porridge to bring to your lips. He patiently coaxes you into drinking the bitter medicine after, quickly soothing you with bite-sized cut fruit to wash away the acrid taste.
âGood job,â he compliments, chuckling when you glow at the praise. Your lips are shiny with juice, trickling from the corner of your mouth.
Absent-mindedly, his hand lifts to caress your cheek, the pad of his thumb wiping it away. You jolt, a startled sound escaping you, and you hasten to clamp a hand over his mouth.
He blinks at you owlishly, dumbfounded.
âDon't,â you speak, your face decorated with a lovely pink. âYou'll... you'll get sick.â
Ayato takes an embarrassing amount of time to process what that means. However, when he does, you can feel him grin beneath your fingers. He takes your hand, his huff of laughter tickling your palm.
âI thought we were in a dream? You don't get sick from kisses in dreams,â he teases, pressing a light kiss to your wrist. Your heart stutters in bewilderment but you make no move to pull away, only twitching when he kisses your fingertips.
âIt's better to be careful...â Your brows knit together, and he kisses the tiny furrow away too.
âOkay. Let's do it next time then, when you're truly awake.â He gently pushes you to your back, fluffing up the pillows for your comfort and tucking you in the blankets. Indulgently, he presses a final kiss to the crown of your head. âRest well so I can get that kiss sooner, hm?â
âThat's a stupid reason to recover...â You murmur defiantly, stubbornly blinking your drooping eyes open.
In the end, you fall asleep to the sound of his laughter, the fingers combing through your hair, and the rhythmic beat in his chest.
--
When you wake up, you admonish yourself for having such a shameless subconscious, but you acknowledge that you had a good dream.
Then your eyes land on a pair of discarded gloves on your nightstand, one that you remember Ayato putting away before he began to spoonfeed you your meal.
...Fuck.
âWith all due respect, I don't believe being your headrest is part of my duty, my lord.â
A thoughtful hum answers you, preceded by a curious glance at your expression. Your legs are folded underneath you, back straight and eyes overlooking the garden instead of the weight resting on your lap. You can feel him shift, turning over where he faces against the porch, his robes wrinkling where they lay below.
âAre you suddenly becoming shy because a maidservant passed by?â He places down the novel in his hands on the wooden floorboards, watching your face burn in embarrassment. âI doubt this is the first time she's seen us, though.â
âMy apologies. I'm not as thick-skinned as you are.â
âI'd prefer the term 'proud,'â he pokes the sash around your waist, smiling cheekily. âWho wouldn't want to show off their lover?â
He feels you stiffen, sees the flush of pink crawling outwards to the tips of your ears. âIt's inappropriate. We're in a public setting.â
âThat's only because you refuse to enter my chambers.â Ayato sighs and you look positively mortified. âI wouldn't ravage you, if that's what you're worried about?â
Not yet anyway, he doesn't say.
âMy lord, please be reasonable. Whether you do or not, I will still be seen as your bed warmer. Did milady not advise us to be discreet? Inazuma would be in an uproar if they learned you were... you were...â You purse your lips, unable to spit the last word.
âWedded.â
âI'm afraid we haven't gone that far, my lord,â you deadpan.
âSo will you consider it?â
âMy lord.â
âWhat?â
You give him a look, and he sighs in acquiescence. But he turns to face the opposite direction, expression hidden fron view. You can practically hear the pout in his voice, âI see. [Name] only sees me as a fling. My heart breaks to know this bliss is short-lived, but I will cherish our remaining time together.â
He's begun his theatrics again, you think tiredly, accustomed to his stunts. âIn any case, we must be careful. We never know who has loose lips around here...â
He's still not facing you, resolutely looking away.
...Is he sulking for real? Was that a genuine marriage proposal?
âMy lord?â You call out softly, in a lover's tender voice. He doesn't respond. Quieter, you whisper to his ear, âAyato?â yet that doesn't earn a reaction either.
You start to panic, wondering if you were acting too indifferently. The change in your relationship had been a recent one, and you're still settling in a period of adjustment; even if you wanted to properly flirt with him like normal lovers do, bickering came more naturally to you.
You reach for his shoulder, hoping to turn him over and see his face. But then he catches your wrist, and you only have a second to catch a glimpse of his triumphant smirk before he captures your lips in a chaste kiss.
âMhm, I see. So you're more considerate towards me when we're dating,â he cheerfully notes, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear as if he can't see the way your shocked gaze morphs into a cold glare. âI truly am privileged.â
âIncorrigible.â The word drips with poison, but he laughs and kisses you again, thumbing at the ring around your finger.
synopsis: itâs no secret that kamisato ayato is a difficult man â both to handle and to please. somehow, he only gets more difficult when sick, but you find that you donât quite mind
a/n: sequel can be found here!
If someone were to ask you what itâs like serving under the esteemed Yashiro Commissioner himself, your answer would probably be that he is a difficult man.
Youâre sure that the Kanjou Commissioner and Tenryou Commissioner would agree with you â both seem as though they have a rather pointy bone to pick with your lord, and knowing him, there is probably a wide variety of reasons with how often he muses about stepping on their toes. The Guuji of the Grand Narukami Shrine seems to think the same, referring to your master as âthat Yashiro bratâ or âthe Kamisato rascalâ, whenever youâre sent to deliver missives or letters on his behalf. Although sheâs never explicitly mentioned that sheâs speaking about your master, it is quite obvious that the one sheâs speaking about isnât your lady Ayaka. Still, the most prominent of all his victims, however, would be poor Thoma â the savoury mizu manju your master had tried making really hadnât sat well with his stomach, much to no oneâs surprise.
For you, however, heâs difficult for a completely different reason.
âI know Iâm considered to be quite the conventionally attractive looker,â the source of your current headache says, voice breathless yet still dripping slick with honeyed amusement that makes your irritation flare, âbut this is just a little inappropriate, donât you think, my dear?â
You make a lunge for him over his desk, but he manages to evade you far too skillfully for your liking. If someone were to walk in on the two of you right now, they would surely be stunned by the sight theyâre greeted with: the ever composed Yashiro Commissioner with his clothes rumpled, face flushed and collar slipping down dangerously one shoulder, while his personal aide glares at him with an expression brimming over with ire.
âIt wouldnât have to beââ you say flatly, attempting a surprise grab for his sleeve that he dodges, silk fabric slipping between your fingers, ââif you would just sit still and let me take your temperature, milord. This is hardly how any self respecting adult should be acting, let alone the head of the Kamisato Clan.â
synopsis: the yashiro commissioner is a difficult man, yes, but kamisato ayato is so very easy to love.
a/n: prequel can be found here!
It is no secret that Kamisato Ayato is a difficult man.
Youâre quite sure that most of the common folk would agree with your assessment, despite never having met the Kamisato clan head face to face before. As the head of one of the most eminent and illustrious clans in Inazuma, surely the Yashiro Commissioner must be a man of high standards and demands, they sympathise with you, shaking their heads in pity. The Yashiro Commissionâs festivals and events are all meticulously planned with consideration for the people, but I heard that he only has one personal assistant. Surely he must work you to the bone!
Contrary to what they think, however, Kamisato Ayato is difficult for a completely different reason in your eyes.
Itâs only a few weeks from the Irodori Festival, the very first celebration of cultural exchange that Inazuma will be able to enjoy ever since the Raiden Shogun closed the countryâs borders years ago. Because of this, the anticipation among the citizens have only been growing ever since it was announced, with many townsfolk passing by eagerly asking after details with bright, excited smiles.
In stark contrast, however, the inside of the Yashiro Commission resembles a swarm of ants on a hot stove, messengers and officials rushing frantically to and fro as you make preparations for the event. And the preparations seem to be only increasing the closer you draw to the date, with your master being called to Tenshukaku more and more frequently for discussions. There is still much work to be done, however, which explains why youâve been holed up alone in your masterâs study for most part of the day with a sore back from hunching over papers and an inkwell thatâs fast running out.
Just as youâre about to reluctantly start on a fresh batch of paperwork, youâre interrupted by the door to your masterâs office sliding open. Thoma stands in the doorway, just as he has several times over the last few weeks, wearing a guilty grin on his face. While the sight of him used to be a welcome break from work (you are a seasoned taste tester for the fusion desserts he enjoys experimenting with), now you only let out a long, vexed groan and promptly knock your forehead against the expensive Yumemiru table.
âMy apologiesâŚâ Thoma begins sheepishly, but you donât seem to be listening.
âHeâs got to be doing this deliberately,â you declare in frustration, setting down the pen so that you can massage your temples. âYouâre telling me that milord forgot his umbrella again?â
warnings - crying, arguments, yelling, cursing in scara's, hints at abandonment issues, petnames (my love, dove, angel, sweetheart)
summary - after a heated argument, you storm off to get some air only to return hours later and find him with tears streaming down his face
a/n - i've seen a lot of those "genshin guys make you cry" hcs (and MMM are they deliciously angsty) but then i thought: what if the roles were reversed? and here we are :')
disclaimer - fights are gonna happen in any sort of relationship, but what matters is how you communicate about the problem :)
you hadn't expected things to go this way, the heat in the air was unthinkably hot and menacing as was the thick tension that wrapped around your throat so coarse and wiry, you felt your breathing halt.
faces warm and throats sore, how long had it been since you first brought up the topic? time itself seemed to still when the man you loved with all your heart stared back at you with boiling rage engraved in his usually loving eyes and an unsettling sneer on his soft lips.
words poured out of his mouth yet your ears remained numb as your battered heart filled the void and rammed against your eardrums. it was as if for miles all you could hear were his shouts and disgruntled comments, even the sharp jab or two where you were most vulnerable. what stabbed the most, however, was your reciprocation.
you were sure at least one of your comments had hit a nerve, but you saw red, red, red. and all courtesies began to fly out the window.
was it so selfish to wish that he'd set aside your differences and hold you so lovingly as he usually did? perhaps, yet your mind wandered to the realm of forgiveness and the dried tear paths on your cheeks ached for your mouth to split open and spew apologies.
but as angry as you were, you loved him. you loved him so much, the mere thought of his anger overshadowing his love for you had your knees buckling and breaths escaping the confines of your lungs.
"look, i'm going to cool off and then we can talk about it later." there was a defeated hum to your voice, one you'd find in a cornered animal who'd been slashed through their bellies and had nothing but adrenaline running through the thin crevices of their veins.
he expected you to storm off with stomped steps and an angry pout, but when you stepped forwards with shaking arms that wrapped around his torso so tightly, and pressed your lips to his clothed, thundering heart, his anger seemed to dissolve entirely.
the final icing on the cake was the whimpered "i love you," whispered against his heart from your lips.
and suddenly, your warmth disappeared from his chest and the click of your shoes began to fade away until all he was left with were echoes of your touch, and a throbbing heart that yearned for your presence.
content + scenarios utc!
windrise had such lovely breezes, and soon you found that your anger had seemingly fluttered away with the calming winds. your walk had allowed you time to think, of both the words diluc spoke and your own behavior. neither of you were very polite or mature about your handling of the matter, much to your chagrin.
after some thought collecting at the large tree near windrise, you legs found themselves dragging towards dawn winery where you had only been hours earlier engaged in the fight of your life, with the love of your life. what was it about? you hardly remembered anymore, but what you craved most was not vengeance or the ability to be right, but diluc's arms wrapped firm around your waist and his intoxicating scent of fresh grapes and aged wine. you longed to run your hands through his thick locks instead of pulling out your own, or feel his palm, gloved or bare, in your own instead of anxiously digging crescent shaped holes into the flesh of your palms.
the doors to the winery felt as heavy as led when you placed your hands and pushed with all your might.
the usual dim candles that illuminated the winery were nowhere to be seen; the entirety of the property seemed void of light and deprived of the usual staff scurrying about. the pit in your throat began to jostle your insides but you swallowed it down with firm resolution and set off in search of diluc.
his usual spot, tableside by the fireplace, was devoid of warmth or any semblance of his being save for the reading glasses he often wore while tending to the winery's paperwork. you clutched the pair of spectacles in your hand and prodded around each room with bated breath, hoping to see the familiar mop of red hair.
just as you ascended the stairs and began to approach his office, your heart stilled as did your breath: the faintest of whimpers met your ears in a sorrowful kiss and the creeping hesitance that had been brewing in the deepest confines of your stomach had begun to resurface.
as gently as you could, you approached his office and peered inside.
the mighty diluc, so strong and so brave, looked much more akin to a lost child as he sat slumped in his chair, elbows placed limply on his desk while his hands took it upon themselves to hold his head over countless stray pieces of paperwork. his red locks had fallen out of its usual composed ponytail and poured out in waterfalls over his skin and desk. even from this strained angle, you could see the small splatters of teardrops that fell onto the documents below his face. and sweet barbatos, with every one of his muffled cries and sobs, you felt your heart break and scatter into pieces, a sharp bite coming to tingle at the ends of your eyes when your name passed his lips in a hoarse and whispered voice.
diluc seemed not to notice you as you approached with cautious steps and gently set his reading glasses down in front of him on his lacquered, wooden desk. the gentle stroke of your hand on his head was what tore him from the wallowing fields of his hands.
his eyes scanned over your body, his own hand hesitantly reaching up to overlap the hand you placed on his head. upon feeling the smoothness of your skin and the bumps of your knuckles, diluc bolted from his chair and wrapped his arms so, so tight around your body. the usual solid cadence of his voice felt wobbly and unstable as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck and shook with sobs. you squeezed back with equal force and ran a soothing hand through his mangled locks.
"i thought...i thought you left me," he managed to sputter out in between lulls of choked cries and sharp inhales.
a single tear slipped down your cheek, "shh i'm here now, i wouldn't leave you just like that." and how true it was that you never would.
you pulled his face from your neck and swiped away at the moisture that coated his face. the rims of his scarlet eyes pooled with a never-ending stream of tears. his skin felt hot to the touch as your nimble fingers worked to rub away his sorrow. diluc's hand found its way up to cup your cheek and brushed away at the stray tears that trickled down from the reservoir hidden behind your eyes.
"i'm so sorry, my love. i meant none of what i said, i truly do love you with all my heart. if i had been more mature about it-"
"no, diluc," you gently placed the soft of your palm against his lips to silence him, "don't blame yourself like that. i'm at fault as well, and i'm sorry." the tip of your nose brushed against his before aiming to slot your lips against his for a tender, chaste kiss.
"we can talk about it after you've calmed down, okay?" you asked once pulling away. he nodded in reply and returned his face to your shoulder, allowing his tears to be absorbed by the heat of your skin all while you cradled him in your arms and whispered words of love and reassurance into his hair.
the muffled "i love you" from your shoulder had you weak in the knees, and it was then that you knew that the both of you would be okay, especially when you replied with an "i love you too" in return.
cider lake was breathtaking at night: from the dancing glimmers of moonlight atop its rippling surface, to the gentle, cooling breeze that came in from the lake water. shoes clutched in one hand, your bare feet made soft footfalls and left behind imprints of your existence in the grainy, mushy sand.
surrounded by tranquility, you finally had a moment to breath and think back to your argument with kaeya. you no doubt felt terrible, both for losing your cool and the sharp imprints of his words that still left impact wounds on your heart. it was almost as though kaeya could target your worst insecurities and zero in on them like heat seeking missiles, and he never failed to miss.
but you knew deep within that it was both of your yelling, both of your disagreements that led to where you are now. and with the calming brush of cider lake's waters against your ankles, you knew you were calm enough to talk things out with kaeya. after all, you loved him, flaws and all.
the favonius headquarters were ominous to some at night, but you glided through the lacquered halls with ease, taking great care to empty your shoes of sand and water first. it wasn't the menacing darkness of the halls that worried you, rather the gentle trickle of candlelight from kaeya's office that urged you to turn around and discuss things in the morning. but you knew that you wanted to fix this, that you'd rather fall asleep tonight knowing you could wake up to his charming smile rather than cold sheets.
despite the glow that poured in from his office into the dark halls, only a single candle had been lit by his deskside instead of the usual four or five that he'd placed around the office. instead of facing his desk, kaeya's chair had been turned to gaze outside the large, paneled window that sat behind his desk. from his office, cider lake stretched on and glimmered under the moonlight for as far as the eye could see. with his cheek propped up by his elbow that rested on the arm of the chair, you almost thought he had been sleeping if not for the slightly ragged breaths emitted from his lips.
you cautiously knocked on the wood of his door, "kaeya? it's me."
the man in front of you hardly moved, transfixed on the gentle sloshes of crystal clear water in front of him.
"kaeya, please don't ignore me," your feet felt like on his wooden floors as you approached his chair, "i came here to tell you how sorry i am, not to fight anymore-"
the rest of your sentence fell flat in your throat as you finally came face to face with kaeya.
kaeya whose eyepatch had long since fallen to the floor and laid by his boots. whose hidden, milky eye seemed lost and confused. kaeya whose eyes gently trickled with silent tears. he hadn't noticed your presence until your thumb came to gently swipe away a tear from under his normally hidden eye. he seemed to flip a switch on as his usual seductive (though strained) grin formed on his face.
"finally come crawling back, sweetheart?" and if not for the warble of his voice or the tears cascading down this face, you'd think he was alright.
"oh kaeya," your hand gently pushed kaeya's head into the soft expanse of your body and wrapped around his broad shoulders, "i'm so sorry."
he sat motionless for a while before his arms pulled your body closer to his, and you felt the small vibrations of his hiccups through the cloth of your attire.
"m' so sorry, dove. i didn't mean what i said to you, i promise."
you gently shushed him and stroked the top of his head, "i know, i know, kaeya. i'm sorry too, we both handled it wrong."
your lips pressed themselves against his soft locks, then moved downwards to his forehead, then nose, and finally his quivering lips, sucking away the last of his breaths from deep within his lungs.
"i thought you left me, for good this time." his voice dripped with hesitance as he raised the heel of his palm to his forehead and humorlessly laughed, a strained smile on his face.
"somehow it's always the people i love the most that i hurt, it really is quite funny." despite his words, kaeya sounded so, so sad, as if he'd break under your fingertips.
the words you wanted to speak didn't seem to fit quite right, so instead you opted to squeeze tighter around his body to let him know how real you were, and let him know that you haven't left him.
"i hurt you too, kaeya. and i'm sorry, very sorry. but we can talk about it later, okay?" he didn't respond, but from the gentle, forwards tug of your arm that had you sitting with your legs slung over his lap and the tight grip of his arms around your torso, you had all the answers you needed.
"i love you, i'll always be here for you." you murmured just under a breath as your lips found solace pressing against the eyelid that held his hidden eye.
the gnawing pain in his heart began to slowly ease with every lingering touch you left upon his skin.
zhongli had once told you that the best way to relax in the famed port of liyue was to sit by the docks and count the ships as they entered in and out of the city.
you hadn't expected a use for this fact, nor for him to be right.
your legs dangled over one of the wooden piers, eyes trained on the elegant and grandiose ship that seemed to sparkle with gold in the setting rays of the sun. counting the ships and pointing our their details in accompaniment of a lovely, gentle sea breeze and the smell of salt in the air had given you time to reflect on your fight with childe.
his hair trigger temper and impulsiveness were things you never usually found yourself the victim of, not until today at least. you'd felt fear but never like this, not fear where the man you loved was at the center of it all. fear that he'd leave you, fear that he'd hate you, fear that you were the main source of his anger at that moment.
the momentum of your feet stilled as you recalled the way in which his voice would take on a tender tone in the early hours of the morning, or when his arms would sneak around your sides to startle you out of whatever task you were preoccupied with. you could never lie to yourself: you missed him dearly despite your argument.
which is how you found yourself alone in northland bank, shoes making gentle clicking sounds on the marble floors in search of childe's office. the fear that had been building up in you had manifested into sweat that trickled down your forehead and the nervous clench of your palms. his office was barren of his presence save for the closet door that looked like it had been flung wide open and the scattered mess of papers on his desk that you had helped him organized.
"are you looking for lord tartaglia?"
you turned your head around to face ekaterina, who send you a polite smile hidden beneath the fabric of her mask. you nod in response, unsure of what was to come.
"i'm afraid he just set out, his location was undisclosed." you frowned in response but thanked her nonetheless from preventing your fruitless search.
night had fallen when you emerged from the bank, eyes wide and wandering in search of the familiar head of ginger that you loved so much. your lead-heavy legs dragged you to the outskirts of the city where the hills began to climb and grass rolled heavy at your feet and tickled your ankles. you almost hadn't registered the slight thump of the footsteps behind you.
"(y/n)?"
you turned around at the sound of your name only to be met in a crushing hug by none other than childe himself. "childe?!" startled, your mind instinctively moved to wrap your arms around his waist and run up and down his back. it was only under your touch that you noticed the heave of his shoulder and the slight rasp of his voice.
his shaking hands gently pulled your body away from his to peer into the galaxies contained within your irises and it was then that you noticed the slight reddening of his eyes, the flush of his face, and the tears that cascaded down his cheeks in silent waterfalls. "i-i've been looking all over for you, angel, i-" he tried to speak but it was as if you could see the words getting caught in between coughed sobs and whimpers that pierced your heart and had you beckoning him back into your arms.
your own eyes began to water and soon slipped into a silent river of tears when his arms clutched your body with his life and his sobs heaved themselves into you.
"i'm so sorry, for losing my temper with you. i-i didn't mean it i swear! i just- i'm-"
"hey, hey, childe it's okay," like a lullaby, your soothing voice brought him back from the deep wrangling tentacles of his mind and cradled him in your warmth, "i'm sorry too, i wasn't very nice to you either. but let's talk about it when we're both not a mess, sound good?" the little laugh to the tail end of your sentence still somehow managed to send butterflies through his stomach. even with tears streaming down your face, he still found you so beautiful.
he nodded and kissed your wet lips with all that he was in a silent promise to both himself, and you.
scaramouche's sharp tongue never hurt, never pierced past the protective layer you donned when you took on the title of the balladeer's lover. but it seemed your shield had worn thin, and his venomous tongue had managed to stab holes through your heart and lathered your soul in poison.
you were thankful just this once for the shogun's principle of eternity. in the land that never changed, you found solace in letting the sea breezes of narukami's beaches lull you into a dream where scaramouche's words didn't sink their fangs into your soul, and where you didn't retaliate with arguments that made no sense and were fueled by anger.
but dreams were dreams, and you opened your eyes to the stinging reality that laid before you. bare feet clinging to remnants of sand, your shoes had been discarded on a rock in favor of strolling through the waves at ankle length, letting the water cleanse you of your anger and the breeze to soothe your battered heart.
it wasn't like scaramouche at all to lash out at you, sure his tongue was sharper than any knife he wielded, but you knew just how much he treasured you even if his words betrayed his heart. and it was that single thought that had you picking up your shoes and hurrying back to the little cottage scaramouche had managed to haggle into his hands.
your feet ached and burned from scratching against the dirt path, but you wanted nothing more than to hold him in your arms and tell him just how sorry you were, and hoped that he'd hear the prayers deep within your heart.
the doorknob felt all too heavy in your sweaty palm as you struggled to turn it. perhaps this was fate screaming at you to run far, far away, but fate has never enticed you into its grips, so you turned the doorknob.
the house hummed with silence and basked itself in the glow of the moonlight, devoid of any candles or electro spheres that scaramouche often used to illuminate the home.
"scara?" you called out tentatively in a small voice. with no reply, you heaved a sigh and set your sights on finding whichever corner of the house he'd gone off to.
you didn't need to look far, as a single glance into his home office revealed to you that he hadn't moved an inch since you left the house in a flurry of emotions earlier that day. hunched over his desk, elbows on the wood and head resting on his folded knuckles white from gripping onto thin air.
"scara?" at the gentle call of his name and upon seeing your worried look, he flinched.
"what do you want?" sharp as ever, he refused to look you in the eye and settled for huffing away and favoring a corner of the room. his sleeve came to brush across his eyes and you thought nothing of it.
"i want to talk, if you're willing." as if to test the waters, you took a cautious step forward. with the click of your shoe on the hardwood, scaramouche rose from his desk and slammed his palms face down onto the lacquered wood.
"i don't. leave." you would have respected his wishes, if not for the single glimmer of a tear that streaked down his flushed face illuminated by the moonlight.
"are you sure-"
"LEAVE! I SAID LEAVE! GO AWAY!" the sudden outburst hadn't phased you the way his rolling tears and choked sobs did. he tried to scream more profanities and "go away!"s at you, but his words were nestled between the crook of muffled cries and whimpers. instead of leaving, you found yourself coming closer and closer until your arms had found their way around his shoulders and your hand began to stroke his soft locks.
scaramouche thrashed and screamed threats and murderous words that would've had anyone else's blood boiling, but you knew from the salty tears that cascaded down his cheeks that he was just as hurt as you were.
"i'm not leaving you like this, scara." you cooed as the hand that had been stroking his hair moved to wipe away the tears from his eyes.
those words alone seemed to break the dam that had been holding back all of his tears, even if they came out in angry glares and single drops of tears rather than sobs. his hesitant arms found their way around your waist and squeezed tightly.
"why...why do you stay with me?" he asked in an out of character, soft, tentative voice that strained with emotion. "i can't watch my mouth...and you put up with all my bullshit. i don't get it."
"that's an easy question, it's because i love you, dummy." with a watery laugh and tears of your own in your eyes, you pressed a chaste kiss first to his cheek, then to his parted lips which tasted of salty tears and indulgence.
"and, i'm sorry for our fight earlier. we can talk things out later though, for now i wanna give you some cuddles." cheekily, you made grabby motions with your hands and smiled despite the evident tears on your face.
his pride would never allow him to mumble those sugary apologies you yearned to hear, but scaramouche had a way of speaking to you in which no words were needed. the slight tug of his arms around your waist and his muffed breaths accompanied by the burning touch of his skin and tears in his eyes were all you needed to know how sorry he was.
all your worries washed away as did the tears on his face fade when you reciprocated his love as best you could despite his flaws.
Congrats on reaching 500 followers!!! I always like reading your works and they always make my day :DD
If I can still req, I'll just submit prompts and you can choose anyone you likee :> Like go wild with it :D
SFW: "We had a fight. It didn't mean I stopped caring." with a shy, gn s/o
NSFW: "Can my sweet baby eat Mommy's pussy, please?"
Yeahhh CONGRATULATIONSSSđđ
I Still Care
Thoma x Shy!GN!Reader (Modern AU)
Summary: You and Thoma had an argument, it was hard to imagine, such a shy blob like you and a perfect guy like him, maybe it was about how he thinks you're too clingy because he was the only one who had actually befriended you, heck, he even started dating you. Either way, when you passed out and was brought to the hospital, you didn't even bother to call for him, did you think... that he stopped caring about you?
Prompt: "We had a fight. It didn't mean I stop caring."
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It was 2:11 am...
Ayaka, your only other friend, had walked into your hospital room, running to you immediately and wrapping her arms around you. "Oh, Y/N! Are you okay? I came as soon as I got your message." She had a worried voice as she hugs you, rubbing your back soothingly.
"I'm okay..." Your voice was a bit hoarse from staying up all night. "Just got a bit dizzy and fell over at the grocery store, but ok feeling better." The blue-haired girl pulled away from you, sitting beside your bed and looking at you in worry.
"I swear... I'm fine, in fact, Thoma doesn't even need to be here. I can be discharged and go home by--"
"Actually," Ayaka had cut your words off. "...I already called him. I couldn't just not tell him, I think he deserves to know that you're hospitalized." She gently grabbed your hand before playing with it.
"It wouldn't be fair for him to not know..." The girl beside you bit her lip, her gaze was apologetic.
You laughed a little to ease the tension. "You make it sound worse than it actually is."
You slumped on down onto the headrest, sighing heavily. "Maybe you can call him and tell him to not worry about coming here?" You almost sounded like you were begging.
"My world doesn't revolve around you! I can't always be there for all the insignificant things you do!" Thoma was yelling at you, you just suggested that maybe he should take a break from working all the time to hang out with you just a bit more.
"... I was just hoping that we could at least spend this day together?" You had tears in your eyes, but you held them in, it was just a bad day for him, he doesn't actually mean that he doesn't like spending time with you, that's what you tell yourself.
"Y/N, I'm home every night! But that's not enough for you, huh?" He forcefully shut his laptop, the sound it makes made you shudder.
Standing up from your shared bed, "You know what, I am so so tired. And an argument won't help me in anyway at all." Thoma was too blinded by frustration to see your glossy eyes and your hurt expression. He just walks passed you, "I'll sleep in the guest room tonight." He walked out of your room, leaving you there standing, desperately holding yourself together.
"Did you two... fought?" Ayaka was worried that it wasn't her place to ask, but she hates seeing her two best friends not seeing eye-to-eye.
You just wanted to get the argument, which was more so him yelling rather than an actual argument really, out of your head. But it was all you could ever think about.
"We're fine... It was just a petty fight."
Thoma walked through the door, walking up to you immediately. "What happened?!" He seemed more mad than he was worried, somehow, that pricks your heart a little.
Ayaka stepped back, giving room for Thoma to reach you.
"It's fine, I think it was just because I'm dehydrated." You told him, looking down on your hands as you feel his disapproving gaze on you.
"Your foot is in a cast. That's not because of dehydration." You looked at your bandaged foot, wiggling your toes.
"It's just a binding, not a cast."
"The nurse said that your foot might be sprained." Thoma sat down on where Ayaka previously was. The blond man looked at the girl behind him, and she immediately caught on.
"Maybe I'll just get some coffee, it's been a long night for you both."
A few minutes after Ayaka left, he spoke again. "You didn't call me." He stated coldly, but his voice seem pained. "So many things have happened, you got hurt, sent to the E.R, stayed here for five hours and nobody ever called me." His eyes were fixed on nothing but you, looking at you questioningly.
"Like I'm not your fucking boyfriend." You winced when Thoma cursed, he didn't do that a lot, now you know he's really mad. "We had a fight, Y/N. We ignored each other for days." You finally suck up the courage to look at him, but it was a mistake, the moment you looked at his watery eyes, you felt like you were about to break down. "But those few days, our argument... It didn't mean I stopped caring."
He sat up, gently putting his hands on your shoulder. "I really hope you know that. I hope you know that even if we have misunderstandings, I won't ever stop caring about you." It sounded like his voice was about to break.
"It's insignificant..."
"What?" Thoma's expression turned confused.
"Y-You said that you can't always be there for all the insignificant stuff. This is---" He slammed his hand onto the the bedside table, making you jump.
"Your safety isn't insignificant, Y/N. I... You know I didn't mean it like that!" You didn't like it when he yelled, you were always too shy, too quiet to ever pipe back. His hands fell on his face once an uncontrollable sob escapes your mouth.
You just melted back onto the bed, ready for his lecturing again. Seeing your figure job just look so tired and lonesome made Thoma bite back what he was about to say.
Ayaka walks back in, a tray of coffee cups in her hands. "I found a coffee shop! I've been walking around the cafeteria for twenty minutes, I just couldn't find it at first." She immediately shuts her mouth when she walked in, obviously sensing the awkward tension in the room. "I'll give you a few more minutes to talk." She closed the door immediately after that.
~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~
After getting you on a wheelchair, drinking some coffee, and say goodbye to Ayaka after reassuring her five million times that you'll be okay, you were now in Thoma's car, ready to head home.
As he drove, the car was dead silent, your head resting on the wall beside you, whilst looking outside.
"Thoma! I never meant that you should only think about me. I just want us to be together more often." You reasoned with him, yet his face remained cold.
"Yeah, well thanks to you calling for me to go home, all my work is moved till next week. So I'll have to work my ass off for then." Your lover had laughed mockingly, clapping his hands at you. "So congratulations, Y/N! You got what you want, I'm home for the rest of the week and I'll be dying the next."
Your breathing starts to become heavy. "I-I didn't know! I'm sorry, okay. But can you please just listen to me."
"No! You listen to me. I am so sick and tired of your bullshit. Can you please just stop being so annoyingly clingy?!"
"I'm sorry." His ears perked up as he heard you words.
You feel your eyes beginning to water. "I'm sorry for being so clingy.... I'm s-sorry for making your work even harder." You start to stutter and your voice started to break. Your breathing was heavy once again.
"I just r-really love you, you're the first p-person to ever shower me with so much love." You were still looking outside the passenger window, your vision blurry from unshed tears. "I'm sorry you have to be with s-someone like me."
"I'm sorry that I make your life h-harder, that I always m-make a mess out of everything." Your throat desperately wanted to let out a few sobs, but you held on, you didn't want to look even more pathetic in front of him.
"I promise that... I'll never force you to h-hang out with me again. And I'll never be clingy, and I'll let you do w-whatever you want. And I won't ever c-complain again." Tears started to run down your face. You were scared, scared that how you acted before would drive him away, you were scared that the person you loved the most in this world would leave you.
Thoma parked the car in your garage, not having said anything throughout the whole ride. That scared you even more. Your body just felt so tired from the crying and frustration. He got out of the car, jogging to your side to carry you home.
As you were in his arms, you gently caressed his cheek. "I'm sorry, T-Thoma. I just really love you." That's what you said before you fell unconscious.
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Thoma couldn't stop his tears from falling, he was sat beside your sleeping form, your foot properly elevated to prevent any pain. He had your hand in his, kissing it again and again.
"Y/N... I'm sorry too, I... I didn't mean to hurt you." He whispered into the air, knowing full well that you couldn't hear him, yet he continues anyway. "I love being with you, I love it when you're clingy, I love hanging out with you, I love being with you." Thoma planted a soft kiss on your forehead. "I love you too..."
"Please, Y/N... don't ever promise me to stop being who you are..."
The next morning, everything was completely different, you woke up to the smell of a delicious aroma, you sat up, being careful with your foot.
The next minute, Thoma had entered your shared room, a tray with a plate of syrup covered pancakes and a glass of milkshake in his hands.
"Oh, you're awake. I made you breakfast... well, for lunch" He walked closer to you, sitting down and placing the tray on your lap after taking the milkshake so it doesn't spill. You're surprised, he's still there, he usually goes to work very early, and looking at the clock, it was 12:16 pm.
"You're... still here?" You had asked him, confused. He just chuckled at your question.
"Who else would take care of you?"
Last night, you did think about him leaving you all alone in the house with a sprained foot. If that happened, you would have just called Ayaka for help, she did say last night that if you ever need her, she'll be there.
For the entire day, Thoma had been with you, catering to your every need, even things you don't need. You know what all of that was about, but confronting him would just make you so tired all over again.
It was bed time, you were both in bed with only the moonlight giving light to the room.
"Y/N...?" Thoma was on his side, looking at your face.
You just hummed as a response, looking back at him.
"I love you..." You smiled as he said that, not even sure that he can see the curve of your lips.
You slowly inched closer to him, giving his lips a quick kiss. "I love you too."
"I don't want you to keep those promises." He stated, his hand holding onto yours yet again. You knew exactly what he was talking about.
"Are you sure...? I just don't want us to fight again..." You say, unsure of yourself.
"Y/N, I don't want you to ever feel like our relationship is some sort of prison, you have just as much say in this as I do."
"Is it okay to be clingy now?"
Thoma laughed slightly, "Of course, love." His body inches closer to you, carefully pulling you to his chest.
"Good, 'cause I was really missing your hugs." Your head nuzzled his chest.
"I'm pretty sure you'll be sick of them in a few days."
~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~
So this is the prompt I chose and Thoma is the character I chose! I really hope you like it! And I'm really glad that my stories can make your day, you're so sweet.
As for the NSFW prompt you chose, I'll see what I can do, but I'll probably focus more on other requests too. Thank you!!!
"I'm sorry for always being so clumsy..." By reader to Childe.
P.S. Congrats for 500 followers!!
Clumsy Mistakes
Childe x Sensitive!GN!Reader (Both live in Liyue)
Summary: You have always been a clumsy fool, but Childe had proved many times that he accepts and loves that about you, he even finds it endearing sometimes. But when work related stress finally got to him, your lover just couldn't take you constantly ruining so many things for him anymore, so he shouts at you, spiting out the most hurtful words he could muster. Childe didn't realize what he had done, until you're suddenly just so scared of him.
Prompt: "I'm sorry for always being so clumsy..."
~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~
"GET THE FUCK OUT!" Childe had shouted at you, you're just helplessly crying in front of him, trying desperately to fix and pick up the papers you had wrecked from the floor.
All you wanted was to give him a piece of the cake you baked and a cup of coffee so that he wouldn't feel tired and droopy as he works, you know he likes to knock all his paper work in one day.
And yet again, your clumsiness took over, managing to make you slip and get the food you prepared all over the papers that Childe spent the whole week working on. At that moment, as you tried desperately to fix your mistake, all he could see was red.
"I... I'm so s-sorry, Ajax. I-I can help you clean it up---" You were cut off as Childe grabbed your wrist and yanked your body up, and instantly, your body shook in fear, tears started to form in your eyes from the bruising grip of his hand.
"I am so fucking done with you!" He threw your own arm at you, making you stumble back slightly. Your other hand gently gripped your bruised wrist, hissing at the pain. "I am so tired of your clumsy ass ruining everything for me!" He rubbed his hands on his face in sheer frustration.
"How in the world can someone be so weak?!"
"Aj--"
"I would've been so much better off if I just never met you!"
You couldn't say anything, his words sent endless jabs to your heart. But just knowing that what he said really is true, it just broke you apart even more. It is your fault that he lost a lot of work progress, It is your fault that this is happening, it is your fault that his life is going downhill.
It's always your fault.
"Didn't you hear me?! I said get the fuck out!" You felt immense fear consume you as Childe grabs your wrist again, his harsh grip making your bruise ache even more. You whimpered as he dragged you to the door, and it feels like your wrist is finally bleeding.
"A-Ajax, please, it hurts!" You finally screamed at him, but he ignored you, throwing outside of his work room.
You fell onto the floor, hot tears streaming down your face. He had slammed the door shut on you, and you're left to cry in the living room of your shared house.
Slowly, you got up, resting your back on the wall and hugging your knees as you let your tears fall, sobbing quietly.
You hated how you couldn't control your sobs, your lungs burned from choking on your own frustration.
Just like everyone in your life, Childe had finally realized as well, how pathetic you really are.
~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~
Childe felt a pit in his stomach all day at work, he couldn't wait until he got home. He wanted to apologize, he might've been mad about what happened, but that's no excuse for hurting you, both emotionally and physically.
The Harbinger had planned to make it up to you, cook you your favorite dinner, give you a massage, cuddle with you all night, maybe even take you out for a date!
Yet it felt like he was slapped in the face, as he sees you cowering in fear right in front of him, were you scared of... him?
Childe's heart ached as you shook in fear, every time he was even remotely coming closer to you, your eyes would water and your fist would clench, like you think he's gonna hurt you.
He still cooked your favorite food that night, but instead of feasting at it like you usually would, you just stared down onto your hands, not saying a single thing as your food remains untouched.
He tried to give you a massage, but even just him offering immediately made you shook you head.
And it was finally time for bed, maybe this time, you'll let him at least hug you.
His hope was crushed instantly when you grabbed a pillow and a blanket from the drawers. "Y/N?" You froze, you were just about to leave the room when he called for you, you refused to look at him.
"You're not sleeping here?" The answer was obvious, but Childe was just hoping that maybe he'll be able to convince you to stay with his sad voice.
You shook your head and the man behind you sighed, you wouldn't even talk to him.
You were just about out of the bedroom when your clumsiness got you again, making you trip on literally nothing and falling onto the floor.
"Y/N!" Childe was beside you right away, worry laced in his expression.
As he tried to help you, you scrambled away from him immediately. "Y/N, please... just let me help." Out of instinct, he grabbed your wrist to assist you, when you whimpered though, he let go of you.
"Ahhh... Nooo..." You cried, taking your wrist away from him and bringing it to your chest.
"Y/N..." Childe knew exactly where that bruise came from... him. He slides closer to you, ignoring you silent pleas, he lifted you up, before gently laying you down on your shared bed.
You avoided eye contact with him, and he just sighs.
"If you really don't feel comfortable sleeping beside me, then... you can sleep here, I'll sleep on the couch." Childe had turned around, picking up the pillow and blanket that you dropped, ready to head out.
...
"A-Ajax..." You called for him, and heavens did his name sound so good coming from you.
"I'm sorry for always being so clumsy..." The way your voice sounded, how you sounded so ashamed of yourself. He turned around to face you before smiling.
"Hey, at least you're not an asshole that hurts people you love when you're angry." Childe had said jokingly, before walking out and closing your bedroom door.
...
...
...
Childe felt a little kiss land on his lips, his tired eyes opening.
He saw your beautiful face, lit by the moonlight that shone through the window. He felt another kiss again, after that, hearing your quiet giggle.
"Goodnight, Ajax. I love you." One final kiss on his lips, you stood up, ready to go back to bed. As you walked away from his "sleeping" form, a smile formed on his face... you two would always say I love you to each other and a quick kiss every night.
You'd probably be embarrassed if he ever bring this up, so it'll just be his little secret.
"I love you too, Y/N."
~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~â˘~
This actually made me cry a bit while I was typing, hehe. I hope you like it, angst is one of my favorite things to write. Thank you for requesting!!!
A/N: Hi yeah I'll take 'shit i wish people said to me' for $500
Description: Not everyone was in favor of the love you and Ayato shared. Ayato didn't know of the things being said to you in those regards either, until now that is.
Tags: fluff, fem!reader, hurt/comfort, i didn't beta read this at all please forgive me
Your relationship with Ayato was no secret to anyone. He was a proud lover, always enthusiastic when it came to telling people about his affections for you. His love was astounding, calm but never shy about reminding anyone that you were the love of his life. Unfortunately, despite all his proclamations of love, there were still a few bitter people that were against your relationship; mostly older people with some influence, disappointed that Ayato had assigned his love to someone like you.
Ayato was not aware of these opinions. You however, were painfully aware of the disapproval from others. When you were alone, people would speak just loud enough for you to hear their unsavoury opinions. Some of them were even bold enough to approach you directly to give unsolicited advice to you. It stung greatly, but you never brought it up to Ayato. He had far greater things to worry about, the opinions of a stranger something he didnât deserve to have to worry about.Â
He would be made aware of these opinions quite soon though, and not by your desire either. It was a complete accident.Â
He was due to have a meeting with the heads of a few reputable family names at his estate today. There was plenty to discuss, but he couldnât help himself from having a nice afternoon walk with you first. The act eased his mind in preparation for yet another formal meeting, so he kept you close even as he approached the room inside where the meeting would be held. It was there though that he heard the unimaginable, right before he slid the screen door open. His hand only barely touched the wood before he froze.Â
âI still donât get it! How can master Ayato even bear to be with someone like her!â One voice said.Â
âRight?! There are much better options; for instance, my daughter would be far more suitable for him!â Said another.Â
âExactly! She has status, your familyâs name, and so much more than some shoddy adventurer!â
The disembodied voices bickered on and on about how much they hated you, and this time you simply couldnât take it anymore. Their words were so much more cruel to hear at this moment, and now that Ayato had heard how people spoke to you and about you, you felt embarrassed beyond belief. The pain you felt in your chest was unbearable, so with a heart full of shame you left Ayatoâs side in a burst of elemental energy, tears streaming down your cheeks and to the floor before you disappeared. Ayato remained frozen for a moment, watching the last traces of you disappear through the front door before he found the will to move again, a scowl present on his face as he slid open the door to the meeting room.Â
Every man in that room had their mouths open, ready to greet Ayato cheerfully, but their words stopped short, unable to come up from their throats when they saw his expression. Ayato was anything but pleased: furrowed brows, narrowed eyes, and a frown so dissatisfied it was almost concerning. It was a cold and heartless expression, sending shivers down the spines of the men in the room. One couldâve honestly mistaken his vision type as cryo in that moment.Â
âGet out.â Ayato spoke bluntly.Â
âOut? W-whatever for?â One of the men asked nervously.Â
âI heard every single word of poison from your disgusting mouths. You have insulted one of the most beautiful souls of Inazuma for what appears to not be the first time. I will not repeat myself a third time. Now get. Out.â Ayato repeated coldly, panning his harsh gaze over the room.Â
âB-but the meeting-â
âYou may make an attempt at another meeting when you have all written a formal apology to _____. I will not be allowing you near her from here on out, so deliver it to me when youâre done.â He lectured, pausing while the men still sat in stunned silence. âWhat did I just say?â
âW-were leaving! S-sorry master Ayato!â
There was plenty of bowing as the men left the meeting room, shamefully scuttling away to Archons knows where now that they had been caught. Once they were gone, only then did Ayato drop his stern expression and replace it with one of sorrow.Â
He was hurting deeply for you, still in disbelief that anyone would dare talk to such a sweet and loving person like you in such a way. He didnât know the extent to which you were spoken to like that in private, but it couldnât have been much better than what he just heard. When he wasnât around⌠what other horrid things had been said to you?â
âOh love⌠I need to find you. Please donât be farâŚâ He huffed wistfully, turning to exit the estate once more in search of you.Â
You had run off using the aid of your vision to help you move faster, so there were plenty of elemental traces left behind for him to follow. The sloppy bursts of energy lead him straight into Chinju Forest where the traces began to thin. It wasnât of great concern though, because right where the elemental energy dispersed, he could see you sitting only a few paces away.Â
You were crouched at the edge of a pool of water in the path of the stream, just barely dipping your toes in with your knees pulled to your chest. Tears still streaked down your cheeks, sniffling here and there as you stared into the water. Your expression had his heart aching, desiring nothing more than to heal your pain. If you had noticed him, you did make it apparent, only casting him a brief glance when he sat down beside you.Â
âIâm glad you didnât go far. Itâs a relief to have found you.â Ayato spoke softly, looking at you tenderly.Â
âWhat about your meetingâŚâ You mumbled, still not lifting your eyes from the water.Â
âI dismissed them immediately. They arenât welcome back until theyâve each delivered me a formal written apology to you.â He informed you.Â
âTch, that wonât happen. Theyâre right, you know.â You rambled on. âYou should be with someone beneficial to you, not some random traveller.â
Your words hurt. Had you truly been told such a thing so many times that you started to believe it?
âYou do benefit me, my love. Please donât speak of yourself in such a way.â He whispered.Â
âBut-!â
âListen.â He spoke firmly, finally earning your gaze. âYou are irreplaceable to me, _____. You have no idea how much you mean to me. You are strong, you are my light, and my shoulder to lean on. Status matters naught when it comes to my love. You are the only one in this world that I will ever give my love to, because no one else could ever be so authentically you. My love is deserved by you, so please accept it as you once did.â
His sincerity was moving. His eyes were pools of care and adoration, reflecting nothing but love back at you with a soft smile. Tears fell down your cheeks once more, completely outside of your control. No words would come to you either, your lips slightly parted to indicate that you were at least trying to say something to him. He knew what you needed right now, and thankfully, words would not be required.Â
Ayato pressed his side up against you, wrapping an arm around your waist while his other hand came up to bush away your tears. His touch was tender and warm, taking away your pain with one gentle swipe before he leaned in and captured your lips with his. You couldnât help but melt into him on the spot, his words healing your grief while his kiss spoke his truth and washed away your doubt. After all youâve heard in regards to your love for him, it no longer mattered one bit, confirming that he loved you at the same caliber.Â
When he was sure he conveyed his point through enough loving pecks after that long and deep kiss, he pulled back, still holding your cheek. You had stopped crying, and that disdainful look in your eyes had disappeared. Your gaze had softened to match his, no longer worried. It was as if you had never heard those cruel words, your eyes following the outline of Ayatoâs figure with a grateful sigh following after.Â
âYour sleevesâŚâ You mumbled, looking down at where the water had soaked the fabric. âTheyâre wet now. Iâm sorry.â
Ayato huffed, chuckling a little. âEven now, youâre still worried about me. My⌠Youâre simply too sweet, I may melt! Iâll never understand how people could be so cruel to you.â
âI donât get it either. But⌠Thanks to you, I don't really care too much anymore. Thank you, Ayato.â
âIf anyone ever continues speaking to you in such a way, please tell me immediately. You can respond to them in the same tune too. Iâd like to hear your version of a verbal lashing, love. No one can tell you nor I who to love.â He told you with a cheeky smile.Â
You finally laughed, uplifted by his insistence on you talking back to people. There was truly no doubt in your mind now. He loved you for certain, and that would never change.Â
âI love you, Ayato. You⌠Youâre such a blessing.â You sighed.
âI love you too, hun. I always will.â
He drew you into a tight embrace, and you clung to him tightly. It was a peaceful moment; one you had hoped would never end. The water gently lapped at your feet and his sleeves as the river flowed on by, the peace of the forest in relative silence calming you. The surrounding flowers emitted a serene glow, painting you a lovely blue hue as you admired each other in the moment. You were forever each otherâs; no status could ever change that.Â
(i am having VIOLENT ideas lately iâm so sorry đ warnings: graphic injury descriptions)
gn!reader
but imagine kaeya planning to propose to you, his lifelong companion, except he doesnât manage to pop the big question.
why? because of the raging war between teyvat and the abyss.
war ravages; it takes and steals and pillages to its heartâs content without any semblance of remorse.
the pair of you are unfortunately no exception to this primordial rule.
every able-bodied soldier was required to lend their strength and, as the cavalry captain, he had no choice but to oblige no matter how earnestly he wanted to remain by your side and protect you.
however, it wasnât you who needed protecting, no⌠it was kaeya who had found himself caught in the direst of situations.
it was one of his greatest regrets at the time, realising that his duty to protect mond would ultimately end with you being all alone.
in another life perhaps, kaeya ponders with an aching heart, he would be with you and running away from the final calamity instead of participating in its cruel games.
a large gaping wound found its home in his torso, a sight so grievous that diluc had to fight to keep the bile from rising in his throat and spewing onto the blood-soaked ground. his infamous eyepatch lay torn a few metres away from his body, the crystalline earring ripped from its usual place on his ear.
as for his eye⌠well, it seemed to have been missing from its socket, a heavy trail of blood leaking from beneath the manâs right lid.
it was a grisly sight, simply put.
immediately diluc sinks to his knees beside his fallen brother, shakily sweeping him up into his burly arms. diluc thinks heâs long gone but the quietest of whispers takes him by surprise, and to both his absolute relief and horror, kaeya lives.
itâs simultaneously a blessing and a curse to be breathing after receiving such a fatal blow.
âkaeya!â
the young alberich manages to give his brother a delirious smile.
ââet.â
dilucâs eyes are frantic as he tries to hone in on kaeyaâs words, leaning in to aid the process. he can barely hear over the roaring of his pounding heart.
kaeya sounds like heâs choking.
choking on his own blood.
âpocket,â the captain struggles to repeat. itâs an arduous battle to project his voice above a whisper. it hurts, terribly so. he chooses his words wisely- he doesnât have enough breath to spare. âmy p-pocket.â
a trembling hand fumbles with the buckles of kaeyaâs attire, carmine eyes hyper-fixated on his brotherâs heaving chest, until diluc feels a small lump in the inner left breast-pocket of kaeyaâs outer layer. a quick nod from the captain is enough to confirm the ragnvindrâs silent question.
taking the object out with as much delicacy as he could muster, the young master finds what seems to be a small velvet box.
diluc feels sick to his stomach.
this couldnât be happening. diluc wasnât daft- he knew what this was. knew what this meant.
he wants to hurl the precious item far away, throw it back into kaeyaâs possession, he shouldnât be holding such an intimate thing, but his fingers refuse to lessen their firm grip.
it felt like he was holding the weight of kaeyaâs heart in his palm.
the world is blurry.
âgive it⌠toâ them.â kaeyaâs words chill the ragnvindrâs spine, each strenuous pause a pang to his already-breaking heart. âplease.â
it wasnât a question, wasnât a request. it was a demand- a desperate one. the final wishes of a dying man.
kaeya feels the way dilucâs chest rises and falls with each hysterical huff that escapes his lips. it seems like heâs trying to formulate sentences but is unable to find the right words. unable to force them out.
he doesnât know whatâs more painful: the severity of his injury or watching his once-estranged brother, a man known for his steely composure, breaking down right in front of him.
is this how master crepâ is this how father must have felt that dayâŚ? the day it all fell apart?
but diluc finds them, although he regrets not having thought them out thoroughly.
diluc wants to smack himself for putting on such a weak front for his dying family. he shouldâve offered words of comfort, of reassurance that yes, of course heâd give this to you, but all that comes out are accusations and hopeless questions.
âthis is your job,â is what kaeya thinks he hears. he canât really tell, what with the ringing in his ears. âwhat am i supposed to say, damn itâŚ? what do iâ what do i tell them? please, kaeââ
the last alberich had already left the plains of teyvat long before diluc could finish his sentence. a single faded eye stares up at the only other soul left in the decrepit wasteland.
kaeya would like to believe that what he heard last was the nickname diluc had given him when they were just children who knew not the meaning of war, would like to believe that he didnât manage to catch the final cries of âdonât leave me.â
kaeya would like to believe that the final expression he saw of his brother was a happy one, even if what he caught was the face of a broken man.
diluc screams, his brotherâs heart clasped tightly in his hand.
im emo so time to write a fic to let it out đť u can apply this to any male character u want but im just gonna tag genshin cause im not in many fandoms sooo đ AND AYO I LEARNED HOW TO PUT GIFS đŞ
mentions death !!!
It's weird without you around.
He missed your scent, your smile, your presence, everything. His life was so perfect with you in it. A loving partner, a wonderful home, and loving days. You were absolutely everything to him.
He really regrets having those arguments with you. He could've just said sorry and moved on to prevent it from happening. He wanted to jump off the balcony right at that moment.
He held a photo of you two, keeping it close to him. Tears running down his face. He missed you so much. All he wanted right now was for you to hug him tight, tighter than you ever have before. He cried, hard. Even though he knew no one would come to his rescue, especially you.
He picks his head up and goes to the kitchen, trying his best to not break down and cry uncontrollably. He picked up a glass, trying his best to swallow it. You would always remind him to drink water, making this even more dreadful. Before he could even swallow it, he falls to the ground, crying loudly.
Jesus, how hard he wished you could hear him cry your name, for you to come back and tell him everything was okay.
It hurt him so much. He always hated waiting for you, but now it was an endless wait. He would never see you again. He would never wake up to your beautiful face resting near his. He would never be able to do all those things you did together again. Everything reminds him of you.
The tears aren't merciless as they fall down his "perfect, handsome, pretty face", just like you said before. Your hands, soft as silk, run through his hair and down to his jaw. You would give the most comforting gaze anyone could ever give to a poor grieving man.
"I'll always be here for you, okay?"
He cries louder, the tips of his fingers going pale white as his grip loosens on the counter. He falls down, back against the counter cabinets. His vision, faded and blurry. Just like how he thought of his life now that you were gone.
You were up there, and he was still stuck down here. Waiting for you.
"An endless sleep" is what he called your heart-breaking ending. A rainy night is what awaited your death. It was the first that month, and the month was nearly done. Thunder follows the strike of light outside. The weather represented what he felt, never-ending, never silenced, out of control. The rain was like his tears, falling down with solid power, drenching anything it hit below.
"I'm sorry" is what he muttered. To who? To himself? To you. He felt so sorry for you. He would've felt so much better if it was him who replaced your place on that bed. He knew that many people loved you compared to him. He was nothing but an unloved piece of shit.
He knew you were dying, but he wasn't sure until you told him weeks before. He knew he was wrong to get mad at that moment, but how could you take more care of him when you yourself were dying? Slowly walking towards inevitable death. He was sorry he couldn't do anything. How could you not do anything as well? You had a choice, to live or not. But what he didn't know is that you've been in pain for long, too long. You've accepted your death. You knew it was better to end it than continue in pain.
He fell into silence. A sigh is what left his tired mouth before he slowly picked himself up and went to bed without any preparation. He silently and hardly wished that he wouldn't wake up from his slumber, just to meet you again.
all i can say is my toes hurt writing this and i had intense period cramps so i hope u liked this đđ
What if we combine Kamisato Divorcee Darling and Courtesan Darling?
After she divorces Ayato her family disowns her and Ayatoâs too busy embroiled in drama after his parents die so she has to figure things out on her own. She already has a tarnished reputation so why not just go all the way, then? She becomes a courtesan and she attracts a handful of customers: mainly noblemen and lords who either have always lusted after her or want to feel superior to Ayato and fucking his ex-wife turned whore is too good a chance to pass up.
Eventually though she amasses a lot of money and secrets from her clientele that sheâs able to comfortably pick and chose her clients and blackmail and manipulate the rest. Everyone thinks sheâs just some airhead whore with a pretty face and interesting background but sheâs been able to secretly and subtly influence politics in Inazuma and even bring people down due to the secrets sheâs learned.
Maybe thats what drew Ayatoâs attention back to her in the first place, after he consolidated his power and position as the Kamisato Head. A courtesan who has ties to numerous nobles has been influencing politics in Inazuma- so says his Shuumatsuban informants. He sees the name but he doubts its his ex-wifeâ after all she came from an affluent family and they never consummated the marriage so itâs not like she couldnât remarry right? (Oh the poor man, not even realizing that no one would ever believe a divorcee, especially when sheâs been dishonorably disowned by her familyâ which he finds out later).
When he arrives, heâs stunned. She is too, somewhat, despite having accepted the offer and meeting. Itâs a weird affair to be serving your ex-husband, but he paid so...
Ayato doesnât know what comes over him when he asks why sheâs a courtesan. Was the alimony not enough? Is she being forced? Whyâ?
And she merely brushes him off and says she doesnât talk about private affairs with customers. It rankles him but heâs forced to accept that he canât really *do* anything about it. She offers him a few secrets in-exchange for the money heâs paid, saying he can get it on his first visit since heâs a âspecial caseâ and Ayato asks how many âvisitsâ do her other customers have to do before theyâre awarded such âluxuryâ and she shrugs. A pretty and knowing smile on her face as she dances around the subject as gracefully as she would dance back when she was a noblewoman.
Ayato gains valuable information, but he considers its a one-time thing. He doesnât need to see her and her information, while valuable, itâs not something worth risking his reputation for. And its shameful isnât it? For him to be seeking out a courtesan? Much more one who used to be his wife?
Until he ends up back at her place needing more information, some secrets to force a deal and ensure the obedience of some overly proud lords who wonât accept âsomeone with a tarnished reputationâ like Ayato as their superior. Perhaps she had her own issues with them, a certain stiffness and sharpness in her demeanor when he asks that makes him wonder what happened there but he refrains because he knows sheâll rebuff him. But instead of accepting payment she says this one is free. A farewell gift of sorts from the former Lady Kamisato to her Lord Husband. Ayato doesnât understand but the determination in her eyes reminds him of the times in their marriage and he lets her handle it. Out of curiosity, he swears. When the matter is handled well and he gains more than obedience but even pledges of loyalty from these once proud lords, he canât help but praise her skill.
Of course, subsequent meetings and business involves the exchange of money, but Ayato finds it a small price to pay for the reliability of her services. And her company. And the willing ear she lends and the total privacy of her bed chambers that allow him to rant and rave about the idiosyncrasies and irritants he has to deal with due to his position.
Itâs on one such return home from her establishment does he meet Guuji Yae at the entrance to his home, amused and positively bursting with mischief as Ayato readies himself for a battle of wits, only to be totally disarmed by her question of âDo you still love your dear wifey after all this time?â
He locks himself in his room after and doesnt visit her. He doesnt love her. He never did. The marriage was arranged by their families. They divorced because they were a mismatch. They couldnt, wouldnt work no matter the effort he put in to make her like him even just a little bit. To see him as more than just the man arranged to be her life partner by their parents, more than the other pawn forced by adults in the game of politics. They didnt work out. They didnt love each other.
She never loved him, no matter how desperately he wished she could at least pretend she did. But she never lied to herself while Ayato was an expert at it. Wasnt that why they divorced despite how disparaging the elders had been about it?
Perhaps what hurt more was when he returned some months later and she merely looked at him and greeted him airily, as if she did not notice his long absence. As if nearly a year of no contact meant nothing to her, while Ayato anxiously stewed in his thoughts all about her for not only this year but the past ones too.
And something in him snapped as her last client walked past him as she barely acknowledged his presence except for a dismissive âyour appointmentâs in two hoursâ.
He threw his satchel at her vanity and she screeched as she pulled away quickly and stared at her cracked appearance in the mirror as Ayato stalked closer and grabbed his bank book, a pen, and his personal seal as he caged her between the vanity and himself.
âHow much to make you mine again?â
He has more than enough Mora to get her back. But are such materialistic things enough to convince her if she holds no love for him?
reblog and make a wish!
this was removed from tumbrl due to âviolating one or more of Tumblrâs Community Guidelinesâ, but since my wish came true the first time, Iâm putting it back. :)
