Hello! I won't be posting any DCA and Welcome Home arts from now on so if that's the reason why you follow me in the first place then please unfollow right now.
Nuevillete, with a gentle smile on his lips, leans forward in his seat and attentively asks, "My Dear, what brings you here?"
He watches as you enter his work study and walk over to him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek before settling into the chair in front of him. Nuevillete smiles at your display of affection and leans back as he gazes at you.
"I was passing by on my way home and I missed you so I thought I'd pay you a visit"
"Forgive me, my Dear" Neuvillette responds, extending his hand to delicately grasp yours from across the table and tenderly stroke the back with his thumb. "It seems my tasks have consumed much of my time lately making this unexpected visit most refreshing"
The smile upon your lips disperses his guilt for only a moment as it reminds Neuvillette of the many reasons he fell in love with you. However, in your eyes, there's a trace of loneliness that conveys he's been more absent than he realized and although you've reassured him that you understand the demands of his job and his responsibility to Fontaine, he can't shake the remorse that he's slowly been neglecting his duty as your husband.
As the realization dawns on him, he lets go of your hand from across the table and rises from his seat to circle the desk and come closer to you. He reaches a gloved hand to gently touch your cheek before he leans in, softly pressing his lips to yours, stealing your breath as they meldseamlessly. The longing for his presence begins to fill at his endearing act of affection, the gentle touch of his hand that maintains its hold as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, releasing his regret and pouring in his immense love for you.
"My affection for you is profound, surpassing even the vastness of the ocean, and your love stirs my heart in a way that no amount of tears ever could"
The luminous gaze of his pearly eyes peering into the depths of your soul, resembles the gaze of a man deeply enamoured, feeling as if one is delving into the heart of a man who exists solely for you. Words simply fall short of describing this captivating affection that radiates from his eyes, leaving you with a heartfelt smile as your hands tenderly cradle his cheeks, drawing him nearer until your foreheads and noses gently touch, sharing a warm exchange of breaths.
The fragile, porcelain-like skin beneath your loving touch feels as delicate as glass, yet you handle it with utmost care, just like the first time your lips met his.
Every second that he stays with you brings him comfort as he leans in, revelling in the sense of belonging you provide.
"I find myself engulfed in my workload, and at times, it consumes my thoughts to the point where I forget about everything else until it's time for me to leave," He explains further, his words laced with urgency to convey his absence. "But please know, you are my top priority, and I promise that you are all that matters to me."
"Yeah?" You inquire in astonishment, your thoughts struggling to grasp the depth of his feelings. It's hard to believe that someone as ordinary and unassuming as you could hold such significance for someone as extraordinary and remarkable as him, someone seemingly beyond your reach.
"It appears I haven't fulfilled my role as your husband adequately, my beloved, if my devotion to you comes as such a surprise," He says, a touch of regret in his voice as he takes your hand and urges you to stand.
"If I could envelop you in my embrace and spend every moment showering you with kisses, imparting the depth of your significance until your entire world revolves around your self-worth, I most certainly would," He whispered tenderly into your ear as he embraced you with one hand gently cradling the back of your head as your face nestles against his chest, his otherhand lovingly shaping itself to your lower back.
"I believe in your sincerity, my Love. Every word you say holds significance to me" You reassured, gripping the back of his coat tightly. "At this moment I know that Fontaine needs your attention more than I do, but I have confidence that, just as we've done in the past, we'll overcome this"
"Forgive me, Archons, for I would forsake my duties and responsibilities, allowing the world to descend into chaos and turmoil just to be with you" He uttered exasperatedly, pulling away to look at your face.
"My love," You speak fondly, "You've filled me with pride— immense pride. I wouldn't want to diminish your generosity, but it warms my heart to know how much you'd willingly give for me."
Nuevillette bestows upon you a gentle, proud smile and tenderly draws you nearer to him, seemingly unable to get enough of your companionship.
"I'd give you the world" He speaks with solemnity, and your faith in his words is unwavering. However, the world holds far less appeal to you than having him in any form or circumstance. Regardless of what the universe may bestow or fate may dictate, as long as he remains alive and breathing, and you can hold him close, that is your greatest desire.
He gently strokes your cheek with his bare hand, for what feels like the umpteenth time.
"I can't argue against that," You whispered so softly, nuzzling your nose against his, tempted to initiate a kiss as he professed his love for you with words that easily won your heart over.
"I'd offer you the same" You inhale deeply before withdrawing, a playful twinkle in your eyes, while Nuevillete's steady gaze remains locked onto you, his lips curving with a mischievous hint.
"Dear one, you sway my heart. Your words are incredibly alluring, and unlike you, I don't believe I'll offer any resistance" Nuevillete playfully inquires as he leans in to reciprocate the kiss.
A satisfactory moan hums from your chest, "What would your wife say of this behaviour, Monsieur Neuvillette"
"I think she'd commend my attempts at seduction"
"Fortunately, she's right here; things might have taken a different turn if I were someone else receiving your seduction" You beam with a broad grin while adjusting his collar.
"Fret not, Dear. This is not a concern you shall ever need to trouble yourself with."
"I may need a little more convincing"
"Are you attempting to divert my attention from my duties?" He playfully queries, his arms encircling you as he draws you closer. "Don't reckon I'd possess the fortitude to withstand such temptations," Neuvillette replied earnestly with his eyes taking on a dangerously dark intensity while his lips drew pursed.
"I reckon I ought to take a respite for the day?" He mused with a light-hearted tone, the allure of spending time with you far surpassing the paperwork on his desk, but you shake your head disapprovingly.
"I don't want to pull you from work, you'll have me later when you return home"
"And pray, my dear, what are your intentions upon my return?" He inquires furthermore with curiosity, his fingers still tenderly tracing the contours of your face.
"Don't tease me"
"My curiosity is quite genuine and I must admit, darling, concentrating on work becomes quite the challenge when the enticing thought of you awaiting me at home lingers," He remarks with a sly grin.
"You've managed the past month, Monsieur. I believe you can handle a few hours more" You add raking your hands through his hair, trying not to mess it up as you did.
You plant a tender kiss on his cheek, then gracefully distance yourself, prompting his swift and bewildered longing as he reaches out for you. "You should get back to work"
"I suppose I have no choice then" Neuvillette sighed, reclining against the edge of his desk, his eyes sweeping over you as he committed the joyful smile you wore to memory, aware of the pain it caused you to part from him when you yearned for his company.
With a tender touch, Neuvillette gently pulled you closer, guiding you between his legs. He planted a farewell kiss on your cheek, then your forehead, and finally let his lips linger on yours. In that unspoken kiss, a silent promise was made. He vowed to be the husband you deserved - attentive - present and affectionate - from this moment onward.
☣ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations!! All credits to original owners of characters/anime/pictures that are not my own!
summary: lyney loves your reactions. but oftentimes ends up being rendered speechless by you. you're really no good for his heart, you know? (he's down bad.)
notes: lyney x GN!reader. established relationship. inspired by a brainrot by the lovely @marrijaydeboo !! golden retriever x black cat, detective!reader. lyney is a loser in love. seriously. first lyney drabble (?) don't come for me if he's kinda ooc... set before Fontaine archon quest btw. reblogs are appreciated!
tags: @ciarchivez | TBA (just drop a message or an ask to be tagged in any of my fics, or any specific x reader fics of mine)
"I must say, Detective, I didn't know you were quite enamoured with me. You've been staring at me for quite a while."
Lilac eyes meet yours, playful and with the intent to seek a reaction. Any reaction. Whether it's the normally sheepish and curt deadpan and pointed stare, or the more rare reaction of a flush on your cheeks, the Great Magician Lyney prides himself as the sole captor and witness of such a side to his normally stoic and silent lover, you.
Well, not so much silent, but mostly reserved to a fault. It's no wonder you and Lynette are close. which he absolutely loves
Currently enjoying a leisure date (his words) after he pestered you on going with him (leaving a bunch of Rainbow Roses and Romaritime Flowers at your doorstep, silly little notes with cat patterns with a 'date countdown' on them, and popping up randomly in your office to steal quick kisses and elaborating about you leaving to spend time with him in typical Lyney fashion, complete with a wink and a disappearing act before you could even get mad at him for the disruption) saying that even Detectives and Sleuths like you need to let down their hair a bit.
And what better way to do it than to spend it with your lovely, horribly sappy (your words) and romantic boyfriend? So, after a few works at winning you over with his secret weapon (Lynette came at your door, giving you the most unimpressive stare and smirk, before telling you her brother was at his wits end trying to please you, waxing poetic about how you wound him by your rejections so you better go) here you both were, enjoying a tray of sweets and desserts, all your favorites, it seems, while partaking in casual conversation flirting with Lyney.
"Is there a reason for your gaze? Or perhaps you're just admiring little old me?"
"Naturally, Great Magician. After all, beautiful things should be admired, no?"
Ah. But there was also that. Your unpredictability. Typical [name], always keeping him on his toes. Lyney flushes deeply at your words, caught off-guard, a rare look of sheepishness similar to a thief caught in the act. caught in the act of being horribly smitten with you, maybe A pretty shade of pink adorns his cheeks. Pink is the color of the Rainbow Roses he lavishes you with; the color of his longing for you, and just one of the colors you get the privilege of seeing on him.
You only smile knowingly, as your lips curl to a smirk.
You really…. You really have him wrapped around your finger, huh? Lyney can only sigh and laugh, as his normally flirty and romantic self is just no match for you.
Not that he minds, of course. You're the only one who gets to assert such a sheepish and unimpressive reaction from him, part from Lynette, probably.
"Ah, how your words leave me speechless, my dear [name]! How you keep me in your grasp so firmly… Ah, there's nothing more fulfilling." You only look at him with a withering stare, which leaves the magician in a love-struck gaze, as you just roll your eyes at his quips.
For the Great Magician Lyney, your reactions are a work of wonder and magic itself. Seeing your normally diligent and aloof facade crumble when he teases you keeps him tightly wound around your finger. Really, Lyney is probably the only person who gets such a thrill of seeing your glares or your unamused looks. Well, that can't compare to your flustered face, or your smile, though. Or your kisses, or the way you look at him breathless after…
He flushes even a darker shade of red, if that was even possible, definitely caught up in his thoughts of you.
It's ironic, really. He says you were the enamored one, but he's the one who wishes to keep you to him till the very end, and wishes that every day with you stretches out longer… He could almost sigh. The things one does when in love…
"Any more words and that smile of yours won't be kept up any longer, Lyney." You huff, as you scarf down a Conch Madeline, before turning to ascertain some case papers he notes that have to deal with the recent serial disappearance cases.
Lyney pouts. You both were on a date, not some regular business day. He'd prefer it if your attention were just on him for today, at least. (or maybe everyday, he hopes. maybe for the rest of your lives. really, what you did to him was astonishing)
"Jeez, alright…. I was hoping you'd be less composed and just unwind yourself with me, you know? After all, I am your lover. And I'd personally prefer if you could shift your attention only at me for today…"
Lyney tries to look unfazed and tip the scales to make you feel flustered this time, but his words come out as a whine. Was he really that needy for your attention? (he was)
Now you blush. The heat creeps up to your cheeks in a flaming glow, as you just make a noise in your throat, words going incoherent. You compose yourself, as you just clear your throat as you look away and bury your expression in your cup of tea, closing your eyes since you couldn't bare to see his gaze, no doubt oozing with fondness and sweetness as the desserts laid out on the table right now. Maybe even more. (you put away your papers, thank goodness)
"You don't need to worry about that. Besides, you're the only person I'd ever want to put all my attention on willingly, anyway…"
"...."
A beat of silence passes. Two beats, three beats. Yeah, now you were both shutting down at your words.
Yeah, now Lyney's seriously considering trying to propose to you in his next show now. A volunteer act, maybe? Wait, you don't want on the spot performances that surprise you too much. Hm, a private show? Tempting. And the ring… Maybe a magenta ring? Or maybe a purple one to match his eyes…. All for you. All for what you both currently have right now. All for everything you're currently showing him. Your mirroring love-lorn gaze, the way your lips would envelop his own, just his. Although Lyney thought that proposing to you right now was still too early, well, if you keep this up…
"Lyney? What's gotten into you all of a sudde–"
Your words stop as you feel the pressure of his lips on your own. Lyney's kisses are sweet, warm, and playful. But oftentimes, it's meaningful and embodies so many unspoken words of adoration that his suave self could never compare to. When he pulls away but a moment later, he's back to his regular self. The confident smile and the softening of his eyes as his gaze locks onto you. Cheeky and challenging. Just the way you like it. Just the way you both would have it.
"You look so endearing when flustered."
"Shut up."
"I love you even still!"
"Unfortunately, I do too."
"Haha, of course you d– Huh, wait, what do you mean, unfortunately?! [name]!"
The rest of the day is spent without your work bothering you. Not that you don't mind, of course. Only because you're spending it in his company.
summary: in which the puppet of many bygone titles studies the nature of your relationship as you interact with such a lowly existence (they're simply interacting with you normally, so why is he being so difficult?)
notes: this is more of a character study tbh, first fic so i'm trying to get a feel for his character (and to fuel my delusions) because i love him an unhealthy amount, with some suggestive allusions.
oftentimes (more often than not), the wanderer thinks of what will happen if the threads that bind the both of you, willing or not, were to be shattered by his hand.
he is in a constant dilemma when it comes to you, the sole individual who stirs the ugly and long forgotten feelings he dared not name, for he fears if he did, he would arrive at a conclusion that could essentially break his entire worldview; of the imperative truth that he so carefully curated in the depths of his concious; when the ache of the three betrayals he experienced were fresh on his mind.
if i had met you sooner, what kind of being would the existence named 'kunikuzushi' grow to become? is but one of the countless thoughts he muses about when you are together.
the warmth he experiences when you are near and the abysmal void when you are not puts him in a stupor that knocks his feelings out to the winds. he thinks of you and your lips, and likens them akin to a panacea to his otherwise wretched and twisted self. you cleanse him of his sins and would gladly hand you his very being if you so wished. whether you destroy him or rebuild him is a privilege bestowed upon you and you alone, and he knows he would be happy with whatever outcome you make of him.
'you, and you alone undo me.' he told you once, him grasping your cheek with his palm and you leaning into it as reciprocation; he was not one for poetic words, and would spare no expense in tormenting you (your words, not his) and lapping up your attention as a starved animal would when deprived of its owner. yet you cradled his palm still resting on your cheek with all the gentleness he thinks no divine entity will ever come close to. you reciprocate this destructive love of his by closing the distance. no words are shared, save for you and him muttering and whispering each of your names as you brought each other the company and pleasure he desperately seeks.
he wants to tear into your life and imprint his existence unto you like a dark blot on your soul, rendering you senseless, until you and him have become but one being. he wants to find the right words to express his desire to give you whatever you so wish for; the sun and the stars themselves, as fraudulent as they are, are nothing to him so as long as you express your desires to conquer them. he would give you the world, trampling lives immeasurably and gladly. which is why this situation right now makes him scoff, enraged for how little you saw his devotion for you.
his countenance is far from pleasant, gaze malignant as he gazed upon such a coarse and insignificant existence; his synthetic muscles tightening in barely concealed fury. how you manage to deal with consorting such a nuisance is beyond him, for you already have him, don't you? he dons an expression of what the small archon who brought him into her tutelage would describe it as a pout, for his self restraint is running thin. if one saw him, they would describe it akin to harsh winds preventing anyone from approaching, lest the winds shall disperse them into nothing but ants. not that anyone would want to, of course.
finally, after what seems like an eternity (hmph, the mere mention of it bolsters his distaste, it seems) you and that nameless fly part, with you returning by his side as he desires. and you and your mischievous and unpredictable antics undoubtedly notice the apprehension he desperately tries to temper when you approach.
"wanderer, what troubles you so much that that perpetual scowl of yours seems even worse today?" your tone is light, teasing; prodding at his fondness for you with all the grace of a rabbit stumbling unto a wolf's territory.
"hmph. your eyes must not be in appropriate condition then, this is what i always look like." he smirks, and continues, (fight fire with fire, no?) "or maybe you look at me too much. i must say, i'm touched." you roll you eyes in response, yet ultimately cling to his side, looping your arm around his as you wordlessly scour Sumeru's streets, engaging in pointless chatter and teasing words. he wouldn't have it any other way.
summary: you bear the sin of loving a being marred by fate's cruelty. finding him at his lowest point, you provide him the words he had longed to hear.
before you could even register what your body was doing, you soon found yourself buried under scaramouche's person. your previous self would have never have imagined this turn of events.
slowly, you position yourself in a state where you can easily access his weary state, his eyes closed and donning a painful frown. a clear distinction from his previous prideful state, before he was struck down by his crushing defeat.
after the traveller and nahida's victory, you don't know what compelled you to reach out to him. perhaps it's that shameful sense of morbid fondness for him that you'd rather die than admit, but you realize that the expression he wears right now; an expression of immeasurable grief more than anything, doesn't suit him at all.
against your better judgement, you feel a pang of inexplicable sadness. for the puppet that gave everything in search for something he desperately wanted. you realize that you don't want this. i don't want to see you like this. he was a being who was driven by his hubris and a boiling hot anger for those who wronged him. from the corner of your eye, you see the traveller wanting to intervene, perhaps to ascertain that you were alright in the fall.
his notions ceased once nahida takes his arm gently and shakes her head, her mouth speaking words you cannot decipher from this distance, but you have a vague guess on what she told him that the traveller cast one last uncertain glance to you before stopping himself. at these moments, you find yourself ever so thankful for the god of wisdom. perhaps she inferred that this was a subject that should be privy to you alone.
and with that, they left; leaving you with scaramouche as you wished. his head had made a home in your lap, and you note that after taking your eyes off of him for a miniscule second, his frown dispersed and you find yourself shocked by the tears streaming down his face. that was an expression you haven't had the privilege of seeing in a long, long time. a tempest of emotions stirs in you, for this sight bore you as the witness for the fragility that you had long suspected was the reason for his character to be morphed for him to be as twisted as it is.
you had been there after all; you saw his past, the past he desperately tried to be rid of. perhaps it would be more accurate to say that you have experienced it for yourself. his despair, his longing for belonging and purpose, and his destructive affection that borders on obsession and worship for you.
he once prided himself of his proficiency in his knowledge of you, yet now that you found yourself observing his current state, you can't help but feel a bit of guilt for him. his actions would never be forgiven, not by you nor anyone else he had trampled over. he devours and destroys. you try to determine if he is of coherent thought before you speak, touching his face and searching for signs of self-awareness. only when you find none is when you speak.
"you are incorrigible." you scoff bitterly, brushing against the soft locks of indigo hair, a sight you've grown used to too many times to count.
"you make me wish to destroy you, to be free of you and whatever desires you harbor for me. the kind soul you once were.... i can hardly remember it." you continue, pausing to observe if he heard this egregious revelation.
hmm, no reaction at all. then you suppose you can speak your mind now, to spit out the feelings and thoughts you harbor for this relationship you have, a chain more like. a chain you prayed to be unbound of for an innumerable amount of time.
"how ironic, isn't it? you say you would gladly chain me without my permission so as long as i stay by your side, but now that i can willingly be absolved of your existence, why is it that i feel the weight of your grip on me the most now?" you say. the puppet makes no sound of response, only silence as the tears from his face dry and are replaced by new droplets. you breathe out a long and exhausted sigh.
"despite all odds, here i am, acting like a fool trying to speak to you when i know that you won't respond to me. ha! how our roles have reversed." you muse, the irony not lost to you. many a time did he garner your attention in sleep in this way, confiding to you secrets and truths he would never have told you when awake. yes, you feel that would be the case right now. this situation is akin to a fever dream, a dream your previous self would never believe if she were watching.
"despite everything you have done to me, i will always return to your hold. no matter what, i always end up here. with you." you stop for a moment, and continue. "my feelings for you meld together in a grisly mess, and i can't even distinguish whether it's my anger talking or my foolish affection for you that i thought i buried long ago."
the words you say next will undoubtedly bring about a shiver from the one below you.
"i wish you wouldn't suffer so, kunikuzushi."
you touch his face as tenderly as possible, wiping his tears.
"how i wish destiny did not fail you that you turnt out to be this way. how it made you become the person you are today."
"your facade slips up more than you want it not to, you know? your care for me was not unnoticed, and maybe thats what makes it harder for me. for you to accept. perhaps its why you spit out barbed words and bite me with the cruelest truths. i can't deny it, kuni. i will undoubtedly return to you no matter what. like you, perhaps i too, am an individual so warped that i find myself drawn to you and indulge in your less than amicable treatment of me."
"back when you were but a wanderer, i would have been content seeing the world with you like you said you would. you and me together. the deeds you have done, the path you've chosen to take, i've complained and screamed myself hoarse from resisting you, yet now that i see you before me like this..." you don't even register the crack in your voice. you reach for his hand and grip it tightly.
"you said that the gnosis was your purpose. that it would elevate you as superior to god and man alike. you promised me the world, and obliterated all my desires in favor for the destiny you promised me. then kuni, let me make you a promise." you say, still gripping his hand. you fiddle with it absently, a habit inherited from him, you supposed.
"if you find yourself without a purpose, know that i will announce myself as your goal; i will take the mantle of being your beacon, your sun, whatever you desire. this affection for you that runs like thorns in my heart is all for you and you alone. you may have me in the palm of your fingers if you wish. if the pain of your past is too much for you to bear, then let me bear that pain with you. after all, deluding myself all this time, i know full well what it feels like to have regrets. so kuni, if it's too hard to move forward, let me be your rock in the future you will wake up to; the one that will guide you towards the kindness in you that you tried too hard to scrub away to the point of obscurity. the one that you refuse to accept is in you." you finish, out of breath by your words. from your current vulnerability or from how much you've spoken, you do not care to know.
hah, all those words for him were for nothing, it seems. his tears are long gone now, his expression changing from displeasure to simply a peaceful one. you could almost laugh. you untangle your hand from his. tenderly setting down his hand, you soon begin to wait for the traveller and nahida's return, your emotions quelled.
you have realized now. whether fate had decreed it or not, there's nowhere else you would rather be than by his side. to experience his outbursts, his rare slivers of bareness before you, and to see the outcome of the fate he chose to take. yes, you are content with that.
you stay with him until nahida returns, informing you that the traveller went back to the city for the celebration of the successful plan. she urges you to go there, her expression more sympathetic than anything. again, she may have already guessed what transpired. you decline, only relenting after nahida says that she would be holding him and transferring him to a place appropriate for him to recuperate. only then do you part with each other.
as you gathered yourself to move out of the workshop, you feel nahida's comforting hand on your shoulder. you gingerly face her and give the bare traces of a smile. you take your hand in her gesture of helping you get up, and you both leave him be for a moment.
you do not cast him a glance back.
a shame, really, that you didn't see how the puppet trembled and stood up after you two left, his tears once again cascading down his face, evoking a tempest of emotions that this time is not borne of his anger, nor his distrust, nor his nihility towards the world he once spat in the face of, cursing and gnashing at its cruelty.
instead, he felt the long bygone feelings of hope bloom in his chest, and the affection for you he once vowed to discard, burn a hundred-fold more than it possibly could. it burned hotter and shone brighter than the flames he once dove head first into to save his discarded 'home.'
summary: wanderer's canon voicelines in the Fubuutsushi AU!! (but can be interpreted as general relationship voicelines if you want) most of these voicelines take place after the events of TTOIL/post-irminsul deletion era.
notes: implied romantic relationship in some voicelines, implied non-human reader. self indulgent for me teehee. based on my Fubuutsushi series :D! idfk if he's ooc though... reblogs are appreciated!
*Sigh* Quit your pestering already and let's get this done. Yeah, I'm irritated since my time with them's cut short.
Does it really have to require me? Tsk, you're only separating me from them. Guess this is a punishment for our run-ins from before, then.
Extra Idle (Fiddling with the matching tassels K!Reader gave him):
…I wonder if you're thinking about me.
About K!Reader (Unlocks at friendship level 4):
Why are you asking about them? You may be someone Lesser Lord Kusanali regards highly, but don't go prying in places you aren't meant to. Don't try to ask about them again.
About K!Reader (Unlocks at friendship level 6):
*sigh* Will you lay off my back if I tell you about them? They're my companion, my equal. My... nevermind. Does that suffice your irritating curiousity? ….Quit looking at me like that.
About K!Reader: Shamisen (Unlocks at friendship level 8)
Although anything they're fond of is something I am fond of too, Their melodies with that instrument are memories I particularly hold dear, just like my bond with them. What? Surprised I admitted it? You should know by now that they're the sole exception to everything else.
About Wanderer: Longing (Unlocks at friendship level 4)
What's with the look on my face? What do you mean, missing them? Even if I outright admit it, It'll only serve to benefit you anyway.
About K!Reader: Sins (unlocks at friendship level 8 and after completing inversion of genesis archon quest)
I should've never left them alone, and I almost lost them due to my own selfish desires… Really, I should've known better. I can't believe I thought losing them was for the best, not when they're the one thing that's always been constant…
No, just… just forget this topic's ever came up. *mutters under breath* They're still here with me, and it's going to stay that way.
About K!Reader: Fondness (Unlocks at friendship level 8)
If I had to choose between them and the world, hah, I wouldn't even hesitate. This accursed world could go up in flames all it wants. Even if fate sets us apart, I'd find my way back to them with everything I have even if I'm torn to pieces. Well, I already did that. Huh? You think that's romantic? Hmph, at least you have taste.
About K!Reader: Equals (Unlocks at friendship level 10)
They're the only one who can truly understand me, and care for me either way. Such benevolence and patience… it transcends those of humans and gods alike, cementing them to a place no one but me deserves to be next to, or rather...
….In the first place, I wouldn't let anyone stand by their side other than me.
When the Sun's Out:
The weather is good today. Just the way they like it. I should bring them along for a stroll and... What? No, you didn't hear anything.
When it's Snowing:
….They'll get cold in this weather.
Favorite Food:
[name] has a particular affinity for bittersweet tea. While I don't share their sentiment, I suppose once in a while I can indulge… Their satisfied expression when I do is worth the pain of the disgustingly sweet aftertaste.
About Lesser Lord Kusanali: Advice
Although she was willing to take the both of us in, and undoubtedly made me indebted to her in the process, I don't appreciate her prying in my affairs with [name]. Still, [name] seems to enjoy her company, so I suppose it's no big deal. But if I find out she's only getting close to them to keep me in check....
(FOUND FAMILY TROPE REAL)
About The Fair Lady: Transgressions (spoilers for inversion of genesis quest)
Although I don't particularly care about whatever that witch is running her mouth on, her trying to get a rise out of me by involving them? Hah, let's just say her current state was well deserved. If I didn't have a mission to complete, she would've met her end even sooner for her words.
Fallen Voiceline 1:
Urgh… I can't… fall here… not when you're waiting…
Fallen Voiceline 2:
Our promise… Agh… [name]...
About Wanderer: Oofurisode (Unlocks if you obtain K!Reader's outfit 'Hyakunichisou's Treasure' and friendship level 10)
Oh, that. I gave it to them as a symbol of my devotion and my pledge to stay by their side, as they've done all these years. So that they know I've got their back, always. The meaning behind it? Yeah, I know about that. So? What's it to you?
About Wanderer: Koi no Yōkan (Unlocks after finishing Side Quest - In the Remains of the Past, Ineffable Affection Ensues):
(note: he's talking about K!reader, not traveller ᕙ( • ‿ • )ᕗ)
The world may be just a carefully curated cruel joke set in store for me, but if there's one thing its been kind enough to give me, it's you. For as long as I live… I won't ever leave your side. This is something I'll never go back on, no matter what. You've already done that before with that promise, so I should do the same, no, do even better. You deserve all that and more. You're everything to me, so I won't let you feel anything but happiness from now on… just like how you've only made me feel that way with – with you. This ring I'm slipping on your finger is proof of that.
^ (Voicelines After Previous Side Quest Completed)
Joining The Party:
Whatever task you want to push onto me, make sure it doesn't keep me long. Yeah, I'm sure you know what I'm talking about, judging by your look. Hurry up and tell me what to do, so I can get to them faster.
What? Isn't it obvious I'm mad? What kind of husband would want to leave their spouse alone?
When the Wind is Blowing:
*murmuring* Their hair must be flying all over the place right now Heh, reminds me of the past. I wonder if I could conjure up some wind to see their disgruntled expression, so I can brush the hair away from their face…
ᕱ⑅ᕱ ۪ ۫ 〜 ꒰ 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝓁𝓊𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇𝒷𝓎, 𝒻𝓁𝓎, 𝒻𝓁𝓎. al haitham x f!reader. sfw. reader is in a skirt ﾉ some playful bicker ◞ some kisses ◞ some naughty touches ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა ﾉ jus fluffy stuffs ꒰ྀི 1.2k wc
you’re taller than al haitham as children— all dangly, clumsy fawn legs where he’s only a baby sapling that’s just begun to sprout from the soil.
even with his fluffy mop of slate hair, the tippy top of his head reaches under your chin, and it takes two of his strides to match one of your own.
perhaps it’s rude and not at all like you or your mother had taught you, but it’s so much fun teasing him about it— the ‘know-it-all’ little brat of a schoolmate who you consistently place second to, who won’t play with you at lunch break and sighs in boredom as often as he breathes and so evidently does not belong in a classroom of children his age.
it’s so much fun watching him struggle to reach for a book on the fourth shelf, one that you pick out with ease (but certainly cannot read with ease), hand to him with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes, ruffle his hair and seemingly disregard him with a giggle, a lax wave of your hand.
"looks like you're too short to reach that shelf, haithie. i guess it just can’t be helped!”
neither the book he’s been wanting to read for weeks nor the strap of his suspender sliding off his shoulder have his attention now that you’ve stolen all of it for yourself.
his head tilts curiously and he looks on in a bit of a stunned daze as you skip off to the section of the library that houses picture books and fairytales, two pigtails swaying side to side and the heels of your loafers scuffing along the carpet and he thinks you’re akin to a butterfly— or flutterby, as you like to call them— prancing about in that carefree way you tend to do.
haithie.
what a peculiar feeling the nickname brings him— a certain eagerness, childlike joy bubbling in his tummy and giving rise to something that he can’t seem to place a name to.
(no one’s ever called him by a nickname before. it’s… nice. just nice, and nothing else. yes, that’s correct… nothing else.
…
his face warms at the realization.)
and then he hears you squeal, watches you trip and tumble to the ground, scrape your palms and sit there pathetically on your knees with your shoulders slumped over.
what a clumsy little flutterby you are.
tiny hiccups are peeled from your throat and you begin to cry softly, and al haitham worries. his feet move on their own when he walks toward you, digging in his knapsack for the last bandage he has left.
“take this.” the boy who you think dislikes you speaks to you for the first time, so you look up at him for the first time, lips wobbly and lashes sticky and cheeks glistening.
his face, however, is unchanging; he is as straight-lipped as you’d expect him to be, brows set in concentration and eyes sharp, piercing.
(but if you look closely, you’d see how the edges are clouded in concern, blunted down and soft and tender and caring— all the things you’d expect him not to be.)
“you really ought to be more careful,” he leans down to your level, wags the bandage in front of your face, “how will you be able to take notes in class if you hurt your hands?”
“you… you…”
his words present themselves to you as a challenge and it makes you seethe, furrow your brows, scrunch up your nose, frown.
al haitham swears there must be fumes coming out of your ears.
“you’ll get wrinkles if you keep pouting like that.”
“don’t pater— pat— hmph! don’t patronize me!” you yap the too-difficult word awkwardly, snatch the bandage from his hand and run off, cheeks swollen like freshly puffed corn, either from the pain stinging at your palms or in embarrassment at having made a fool of yourself in front of your very first, very real, perhaps unrequited, and only love.
two decades later and you're standing uncomfortably with one knee up on the kitchen counter, tippy toes barely brushing the tile floor as you aimlessly reach for the spice tin sitting at the top of the pantry.
you grapple at air, slide your hand over to the left of the shelf, and to the right, and to the left again, and then you think you finally have it when you feel cool metal graze over your fingertips. stretching, wiggling your fingers as far as you can, you hook a nail under the side clasp and drag it to the ledge of the shelf; you have it, until—
“ow!” your hand flys down to the top of your thigh where your skirt has ridden up in your position that has you rather exposed, to where two lithe fingers much larger than your own surprise you with a pinch, and then a cheeky squeeze of your rear.
“need help with that?” before you can register it, your husband reaches up with ease to take the spice tin in his own hand, shaking it in front of your face almost tantalizingly.
you frown.
(but then you catch sight of the flex of his bicep as he brings it to your level, the veins lining his forearms, his fingers drumming playfully over the tin. and your frown lessens.)
“haithie, i almost had it!” you lower yourself to the ground and whine, craning your neck up towards al haitham. it’s merely a second after that he raises the spice tin high in the air with a pompous smirk on his face that only serves to make him even more handsome, higher up than the top shelf of the pantry and certainly too high for you to reach.
his grin widens when you bounce on the balls of your feet, grip at his shirt and use it for leverage as you try so, so hard to take the tin from him. to no avail, of course.
you furrow your brows and puff out your cheek, look up at him as if you were about to throw a tantrum and then he’s brought back 20 years to his school library, akademiya-prep physics textbook in his hands and you splayed on the floor in front of him with your pigtails and scraped palms and blubbery cheeks and sullen little flutterby wings.
“you’re such a meanie.”
"and you're too short to reach that shelf, darling,” he muses, eyes swimming with hazy mirth as he finally holds out the spice tin for you to grab, watches on with a tender smile as you hug it to your chest and release a dissatisfied little hmph!
you’re older now, shorter than him now— your lips are fuller and your cheeks are dimpled with smile lines, but your childish peevishness has remained. perhaps it’s one of the things that endears him most to you.
and then he’s placating you the way he knows best, running his knuckles adoringly along the lift of your cheekbone because you’re just so cute when you get all pouty and petulant like this, because you melt under his touch like cream in the sun, because your pout softens and before you realize it you’re biting on your lip to hold back a giggle.
oh, how quickly he’s able to soothe your heart like this. his little flutterby.
"i guess it just can’t be helped.”
𐂯 ‧₊˚ thanku for reading i hope u luv teasing hubbie haithie as much as i doooo :3 🌈🍀💝☮️ ! ! consider reblogging or leaving a comment if u enjoyed ෆ
OKAY OKAY BRO. WHAT IF EI KEEP SCARA?? So like inagine a shogun!scara x Kitsune!reader (like Ei and Miko) during the vision hunt decree where reader is helping traveler by distracting scara with cute dates cuddle and keeping him from chasing traveler by holding him in the tightest im race and just sleeping on top of him. BRO AAAA THAT SOUNDS SO CUTE and scara is annoyed at first but eventually just gives in and Ei is just like 🧍♀️.
idk if you have anons but -💤🌀
summary: shogun!kunikuzushi x kitsune!reader. you're using your little tricks to distract him from the traveler's arrival.
cw: sfw. fluff. established relationship. 1009 words.
thank you 💤🌀anon for your req! i got so inspired that i started writing this almost instantly after getting the req.
there weren't any news in inazuma that weren't heard by shogun's all-knowing ears. the vision hunt decree was progressed well - until some rumors appeared about a certain traveler from the overseas who decided that they're capable of standing against the vision hunt decree, and against the shogun himself.
"hah. how amusing." kunikuzushi mumbled, having a devilish grin attached to his lips. "who do they think they are?"
"hm? what're you talking about, kuni?" you looked over his shoulder curiously, your ears twitching in amusement.
you always watched kunikuzushi's emotional spectre with delight. once even witnessing his face going from having a smirk to one of horror and disgust when he realised that you bought all the available dango from the narukami island just to arrange a picnic date with him, clearly knowing that he hated dango. he got mad instantly, walking away, furiously stomping his feet. (he felt bad right after could barely resist your puppy eyes and wiggling tails when you tried to get him back.)
or when you drew small kitsune all over his face with a permanent ink, or the time when he decided to pay you back with asking the seller to put salt and pepper in your mochi, or the incident in a shrine when you almost got caught-
even if that happened just once, he already witnessed a thousand of your little pranks for the following thousands years of you being by his side.
so you, suddenly appearing near him now, couldn't bring any good news. kunikuzushi knew it, reacting at your emergence with an exasperated groan.
"what do you need now?" he turned around to you, his long kimono hem spread on the grass. he was sat under a few sakura trees, so there were some pink petals on his clothes.
you examined his face with great amusement and a usual soft smile, until... you started giggling. your giggles quickly turned into a full-blown laughing session.
"you- k-kuni- hahaha!... don't you see?" you tried speaking through your laugh, holding a fan up to your lips to cover your giggles.
your hand reached to - as he thought - touch his nose, but instead, you held up a sakura petal between your fingers that sticked to his nose. you couldn't hold back another laughter, tripping over your own kimono and falling on top of him.
"what are you- [name]! get off of me!" kunikuzushi could barely hold a yelp as you fell on him, not letting him get any chance to move.
you spread yourself on top of him, your body a bit shaking from all the laughing, as you tried to steady your hands, putting them on each sides of his head to look down at him. letting out a few last giggles you finally stopped, a large smile plastered on your lips as you stared down at him with amusement. your hand reached once more to touch his hair, getting a few more sakura petals out of it.
kunikuzushi's face looked like a mix of embarrassment and irritation - knitted together brows and a slight blush on his pale cheeks because of how close you two are now - you couldn't guess which one was there more, so your only option was to stare down at him, until a guard from the shogunate approached both of you.
"shogun, the traveler was spotted near tenshukaku." the guard informed, seemingly not minding your little hugging session - could that even be called hugging?
kunikuzushi sighed, running a hand through his hair. the moment was almost ethereal, why did it have to be interrupted so fast?
"that idiot-" he gave a useless try to stand up, only for you to pin him down again.
"hush, you're staying here." you spoke to him, your hand's fingers entwined with his indigo hair, curling and brushing it on some places. "there's no way i'll let you go now."
"[name], stop with these games, it's an emergen-"
"kunikuzushi, i said you're staying here." you shot him a glare with narrowed eyes, a smile disappearing from your features. it then came back almost instantly when you looked up at the guard. yet, the smile on your lips now seemed threatening, showing your authority. "the shogunate are able to keep an eye on them, aren't you?"
"i- y-yes, yes, we can... you can rely on us." the guard, seemingly a bit frightened - as you intended - took a step back, and bowed deeply to both of you. you kept your intimidating grin, nodding to them. they ran as soon as you sent them away.
"that's better." you smiled at kunikuzushi, now without that gloomy appearance. he, in turn, could only stare at you with a sceptical look.
"you didn't even let me finish, and i'm the shogun here." he says, his eyes narrowed and a small frown on his face. giggling, you could tell his pride was hurt by your actions.
"aw, don't get all grumpy. here..." you leaned down, your lips meeting his. the kiss wasn't heated, it was rather transmission of emotions. you enjoy the moment to the fullest; there was no hurry in both your and his actions. he moved his lips slowly, gently, and closes his eyes. you, on the other hand, let your fingers entangle in his hair, moving your hand down to his neck, tips of your fingers gently sliding down his skin.
it was a sweet moment. the sound of the wind as it blows gently through the sakura trees, the birds chirping above, the sun shining bright...
that was, until you heard a crack of wood underneath him. breaking the kiss, you looked down at him with your brows furrowed.
"...did you just break my fan?"
"you didn't let me stand up!" kunikuzushi protested, his back feeling the broken wood. shit, you won't let that slide now, he thought.
"jackass. now you're definitely not going anywhere." you plopped down at him once again, the fur of your ears slightly touching his jaw as you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck. kunikuzushi groaned.
"[name], don't forget that you're a bit... heavy too. ugh... wait, are you sleeping?!"
premise. alhaitham learns to stop falling asleep in places that isn't his bed the hard way. (alternatively, in which the librarian doesn't follow the script to wake sleeping beauty.)
Kaveh finds Alhaitham furiously scrubbing his face in the bathroom.
At first, he's absolutely ecstatic. For all that Alhaitham refuses to practice skincare, he's never gotten a zit on his face. An earth-shattering revelation to Kaveh, who maintains a strict nightly skincare routine—he's never gone to sleep without a moisturizing facemask. It's not the most infuriating thing about his roommate, but it annoys him that a guy who only washes his face in the morning has clearer skin than he does.
Is this it? Is Alhaitham receiving retribution at last? Is he finally suffering the consequences of his carelessness?!
But when Kaveh cranes his neck to get a better look at Alhaitham's face, he doesn't see any of the sort.
“Dude...” Kaveh can't even laugh due to sheer incredulity, staring at Alhaitham with a pitying look. Alhaitham thinks it would be less irritating if he just laughed in his face. “Did a third-grader pick on you?”
Alhaitham grits his teeth, wiping the remnants of ink on his face. He's mostly gotten rid of the sparkly anime eyes you drew over his eyelids, but it still looks like a fading black eye. The blush lines on his cheeks are a work in progress, but they'll disappear with some effort.
“They have the maturity of one, at least.”
Alhaitham has met his fair share of librarians—there's the stern, no-nonsense kind he's gotten forehead flicks from every time he's caught dozing off on his thesis paper; the introverted bookish type who stutters as they nervously but firmly tell him off for hogging all the books a certain class needs for a report; the motherly sort who smuggles him coffee in his all-nighters when he looks like death itself...
And then there's you.
Cheekier than his brat of a roommate, you somehow manage to annoy him like nobody else can. He'd rather have you scold him for treating the library as a second bedroom than clip ribbons to his hair whenever you catch him sleeping. Hell, he'd take a skull-shattering forehead flick over doodles on his face any day. But even if he preaches his troubles to anyone willing to listen, they're never sympathetic.
Because for some reason, you're never like this to anyone else.
If anyone at campus were asked to describe you, they'll say you're a model student. Scholarly, courteous, standing tall with dignified grace; you're the perfect picture of a goody-two-shoes. Nothing like the childish brat who terrorizes his nap schedule on a daily basis.
People who have a vendetta against him is nothing new. What he doesn't understand, however, is what he did to be the object of your wrath.
“Maybe [Name] likes you. Kind of like how boys bully the girl they like,” is the ridiculous answer Kaveh gives him, dropping those words like they weigh nothing with a nonchalant shrug. Alhaitham would think it more likely for the reverse to be true; your insistence to dedicate your time into ruining his day is nothing short of admiration—surely a testament to just how much you hate him.
...Okay, so maybe Alhaitham could guess a few things for why. There's been a handful of times (read: it happens at least thrice a week) he kept you stationed at the library longer than you had to be because he fell asleep until closing hours, and he has a tendency to forget returning the materials he borrows for his thesis to the library...
So. Perhaps this was a consequence of his actions after all.
He argues that there are far more mature methods to resolve this issue, though.
Alhaitham stares at the crudely drawn portrait scrawled on his arm, deeply unimpressed. Although he's not one to boast about his looks, he's rather sure he isn't as much of an eyesore as you drew him to be, his nose an exaggerated point (a literal triangle) and his lips wide open as he drools, dangerously close to the rectangles he guesses are supposed to be books. Don't sleep on the reference books!! You'll get drool all over them >:(, reads the scribbled letters beside the portrait, an angry face scrawled haphazardly next to them.
(Still, by the corner of his eye, he spots a cup of his usual order of coffee, a neon pink sticky note pasted on the lid: Wake up and finish your report quickly, I have a show to catch at 8 :>
It would be easier to hate you if being bratty is all there is to your personality, really.)
You scribble all over your notes.
It's a fact Alhaitham has known about you since long ago. Everything else about you is neat and orderly, but every page of your notebook has some sort of doodle on the corners. They range from meticulous side-profiles of whoever sits beside you that day to meaningless hearts and smiley faces akin to what a five-year-old child might make.
If you've chosen to be more artistic for the doodles you draw all over him, perhaps Alhaitham might not mind as much. It's unfortunate you much rather prefer drawing exaggerated tear streaks on his face.
“I'm quite certain this is a form of harassment,” Alhaitham grumbles, rubbing his face with makeup remover. As pointless as it is to express his woes to the cause of said woes, he finds himself seated before the reception desk to keep you company anyway. “I don't understand why you're still doing this.”
“It's a punishment for falling asleep and keeping me holed up in here to guard the library until it closes,” you drone, fixing the library cards. “And yet you still refuse to stop. Is it really so hard to go to the dormitory instead?”
Alhaitham shrugs. A sigh inevitably escapes your lips.
Eventually, you run out of stupid things to draw on his skin whenever you catch him sleeping.
You start to write your shopping list on his arm instead.
“Why on earth would you need three cartons of eggs?” Alhaitham leans against the desk you're stationed at, reading the bulletpoints on his skin.
Eventually, Alhaitham gets used to scrubbing off your vandalism too. It's his personal brand of skincare.
“They're on sale today,” you reply, signing the papers requesting new stocks of books. “And I was planning on baking, so it's better I have plenty of ingredients for trial and error.”
“Sounds heavy,” he hums, eyes scanning the rest of your list. “Want me to come with?”
At that, your pen stops moving. “...Why?”
“I need to buy cereal.”
(No he doesn't. Kaveh went on a grocery run yesterday.)
“Sure, I guess...?” It's an unexpected development, but you wouldn't turn away an extra pair of hands. “Should we get going, then?”
“Yeah.”
You raise an eyebrow. “...But you didn't borrow a book today yet. Aren't you getting anything first?”
Alhaitham looks around. “The book I wanted isn't here, so I suppose I still have to wait a few days for it.”
“What is it?” You click your pen, reaching for your notepad. (You already have one of those, Alhaitham seriously sees no point in you writing down your grocery list on his arm.) “I'll tell you when it gets returned.”
“...No, it's fine. Let's go, the eggs you wanted might be all gone if we take our time getting there.”
You jolt up in alarm, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “You're right, we should hurry!”
For all it's worth, you're pretty gullible.
“You're still keeping that up?”
Alhaitham looks up from his laptop, fingers halting in their movement. “What do you mean?”
Kaveh scrunches his nose, pointing at the scribbles on his palm. “Your weird mating ritual. Can't you two communicate like normal people?”
Alhaitham glances at the mess you've made of his arm, full of little messages and doodles you wrote back and forth to each other during Biology period. Alhaitham had been, perhaps for the first time, not feeling drowsy. Regardless, you've taken to treating his skin as paper (“Save the trees,” you told him once, ignoring the disbelieving expression on his face), and Alhaitham has already accepted that you won't stop doing it as long as you still find it amusing.
“We do talk. Normally.”
“And if you do, why are you still doing... that.”
Alhaitham doesn't have anything to say to that. He did think it was inconvenient to wash all the messages off, and there are far more practical modes of communication.
But for some reason, he can't find it himself to say that he outright dislikes it.
And maybe he traces the shapes you draw on his skin, in the private confines of his room where no one can see him. Maybe he admires the smooth strokes of your penmanship, the adorable curls of your letters, the bubbly font that always makes him chuckle because it's just so like you.
There are hearts sometimes, or even flowers when you feel like drawing something more detailed. The ugly sketches of him sleeping are somewhat annoying, but he still finds himself endeared. Though some things are appallingly inaccurate—you've done his nose a horrible injustice more than once—he notices the correct placement of beauty marks on his face, the sharp edges of his eyes, the meticulous dimple that faintly appears when he smiles.
A thrill runs through him when he thinks of you paying attention to him, more than you've ever given anyone else.
And, well. Alhaitham's certain he's been doing plenty of that for you.
“Don't you think you're being unfair?”
You pause in your typing, averting your eyes from the computer monitor to glance at Alhaitham. “Unfair in what, exactly?”
He mindlessly spins a pen with his fingers, staring at the blank canvas that was your arm compared to the sketchbook you've made out of his. “You're the only one who writes on me.”
“What, you want to write your shopping list on me for a change?” you arch up an eyebrow, unperturbed. “I thought you said it was impractical.”
“I never said I wanted to write my shopping list.”
“What else would you write, then?”
Alhaitham reaches for your arm. “Give me your hand.”
You blink, not quite unwilling yet confused all the same. You offer your hand and he uncaps his pen, scribbling on your palm. You've never been on the receiving end of this little game, so you're not sure what to expect from him.
“There.” Satisfied, he lets go and stands up. “I'm going home for the day. Good luck with the rest of your shift.”
“See you tomorrow, I guess...?” you wave at him in farewell, but he's quick to spring on his feet and dart out the door. “What's his deal...”
You turn over your hand, seeing a string of numbers written in neat font.
“Oh.”
Alhaitham feels silly for anticipating a text like some lovestruck teenage girl who exchanged numbers with her crush.
The blinking cursor on his blank essay document almost looks mocking, and as time passes by, the only word he's managed to type out is “The.” Even so, his attention is completely locked on his phone, devoid of any notifications.
If it weren't for Kaveh being nosy the other day, he wouldn't have gotten the idea of giving you his number. He did think something had to change, but he didn't know how to get there. But now that he's gotten this far, he can expect a little bit, right?
At last, his phone chimes its long awaited notification. Alhaitham is quick to ditch his laptop and shuts it closed, reaching for his phone where it sits on his desk. He swears he's never typed his password so fast before in his life.
Unfortunately, the text he's been anticipating for a good portion of the day is nothing but a disappointment.
#GENRE: fluff, crack-ish but that's just how i write fluff, headcanons/hcs.
#NOTES: mentions of kisses, one implied injury but nothing graphic, cyno's reader isn't a qualified doctor (sorry to the med students).
#THOUGHTS: comically enough, i spent more time on the formatting than the writing itself. maybe i'll play around with them more often? anywho, here is a little smth before fontaine and while i work on other stuff per usual! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
thinking about . . . how wanderer says he 'could care less' about what you do or where you go, always averting his gaze with that disinterested look. it's true, he hates getting caught up in people's business but good riddance, why does he find himself sticking to your side? maybe, he finds your company tolerable (preferable) or that he might even possibly harbor worry for your safety. the wanderer doesn't have a definite answer to this and so, all he can do is insist that he is only here to make sure you don't do anything 'stupid' — yet, he stays so close to you that he could've reached out for your hand if he wished. right, if only pride wasn't an option.
thinking about . . . how wanderer drums his cold fingers on your bare skin while knowing that they are as cold as ice, for a puppet is bereft of humanly warmth, just to incite a reaction out of you. whether it be little yelps, flinches or frowns, he'll drink them all up with an amused snicker. "too cold?" he'd ask oh-so teasingly — but bring his hands up to your lips and press a kiss to them, then you'd see how his eyes dilate and his lips quiver. who's got the upper hand now? (you do, before he snatches his hand away flusteredly and calling you 'an impulsive fool', that is.)
thinking about . . . how you're the first person kaveh looks for when it comes to everything (literally). sorry, he can't help it; but if you think it's good, then it must be really good, right? his clothes today, menu suggestions, your opinion on a performance the both you saw at the bazaar together and more — but oh, his architecture drafts can be a different story because he gets pouty with those. (just give him a kiss and it'll wipe itself away, easy peasy?)
thinking about . . . how kaveh would set aside some mora with you in mind. when it comes to food or other expenses, he complains about them with no reservations — but your favorite dish? or the item you were eyeing the other day? knowing that you will tell him not to trouble himself, he can only beg the traveler and paimon to keep quiet when he keeps stumbling into them when he's out buying a secret gift for you. seriously, why does this always happen to him? (huh, who would've thought that kaveh finally learnt a bit more about financial management thanks to you? "how surprising," a certain someone with gray hair and green clothes comments.)
thinking about . . . how instead of one, there are two mugs on alhaitham's kitchen table every morning. as an early bird, he knows that hydration is something much needed in the morning, so he always prepares two; one for his daily dose of caffeine and the other for your preferred drink. you never recalled asking him to do so — "and you didn't," he affirms, he just gradually incorporated it into his routine. alhaitham states it's for efficiency because he can handle sleepiness somewhat better than you (how offensive). but maybe, the way you always sleepily press a kiss to his cheek as thanks meant something too.
thinking about . . . how alhaitham lets out just the quietest sigh of relief when he realizes you're the one entering his office and not a colleague. for someone so diligent about work (he never claimed he is), he sure perks up when you visit him at work. ask him about it and alhaitham will say that he doesn't know what you're talking about — but the moment you go behind the desk and offer yourself for him to lean on, believe it or not, he melts into you so easily. (...just a little, though.)
thinking about . . . how cyno places his hood on your head when no one is around. you're not a hanger for hats, but he says that you're "cap-tivating" so it makes sense (please send help). regardless, the general does it as his own unique form of affection; he only ever takes off his head accessory around people he trusts and he thinks you look adorable with it on. not to mention, it also has his scent so he's technically marking you as his territory. relax, he's just joking. (or is he? just make a note to ask about his shampoo next time... unless he's into that all-natural stuff.)
thinking about . . . how as a general, cyno is used to speaking in a clear and precise tone with his subordinates and co-workers. but when he's here, sitting beside you while your nimble fingers make light work of bandaging his arm, his lips can't part themselves to say anything else besides a "sorry" mumbled with a pang of guilt. you tell him it's alright as long as he comes home to you at the end of the day and he refuses to be treated by anyone else ever since. ("sir, but they're not a qualified doctor." "...your point is?")
thinking about . . . how tighnari's tail always seems to have a mind of its very own; curling around your leg or wrist almost idly, almost as if it's just second nature when you're near enough to be reached. you have a suspicion that he's trying to communicate an unspoken wish — but ask tighnari about it and he'll say it just does that sometimes. you're pleasantly shocked he didn't ask if you sniffed any odd mushrooms that day (...you didn't, you think).
thinking about . . . how tighnari gives your head a little pat after you complete a task he gave (or didn't give) you. finished sweeping the floor? pat, pat. taught collei how to do her homework? pat, pat. oh, you rearranged the bookshelf when he complained about not having time for it last night? pat, pat, pat. at this point, you don't even know if he realizes he does this — but really, this is just a way to say that he's proud of you without being too overly mushy. no, it's not patronizing and no, he isn't going to admit that he has a soft spot for you in a professional setting. though, the way he'd pull back his hand at the speed of light when a ranger walks in on his patting you is a little funny.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─
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Play With Fire headcanon: Diluc loves, and I mean LOVES, to squish and pull reader's cheeks.
Okay. I LOVE this. As someone with chubby cheeks and having my cheeks pulled by everyone ALL my life, Diluc would be the only person who I would not get pissed off if he pulled my cheek. So let me indulge you a little bit.
Pairing: Diluc x gn! reader
Word count - 660
The first time Diluc playfully squished your cheeks was an unexpected surprise. You had been chatting about the latest happenings in the city, and as your eyes sparkled with excitement, his fingers instinctively reached out to gently pinch your cheeks. It was a moment of pure affection, an unguarded glimpse of the softer side he reserved exclusively for you.
Over time, you realized that Diluc's love for squishing and pulling your cheeks was his way of expressing fondness and endearment. Whenever he would hear you giggle, or see you light up with joy, he couldn't resist reaching out to playfully pinch your cheeks. His usually serious demeanor would soften, and a small smile would grace his lips, a rare sight for most.
One of Diluc's favorite pastimes was to listen to you ramble endlessly about anything and everything. Your excitement and passion were contagious, and he found solace in just being able to watch you express yourself freely. However, there were times when your words flowed like a river, and he would simply smile, amused by your enthusiasm, until the moment you crossed that line between passionate and incoherent. In those moments, Diluc had a tried-and-true method of silencing your verbal whirlwind. With a swift, yet surprisingly gentle motion, he would lift your chin with one hand and then squish your cheeks together to form a cute little pout. Instantly, your words would vanish, replaced by a playful glare as you tried to protest without words. It was his way of saying, "Hush, my dear, and let me enjoy the sight of you."
During the cold winter months, as the chill nipped at your cheeks and turned them rosy, Diluc would take it upon himself to keep you warm. With his gloved hands, warmed by the power of his vision, he would cup your cheeks, tenderly rubbing them to generate heat. And as if that wasn't enough, he'd then proceed to squish your cheeks gently, a playful gesture that never failed to bring a smile to your face.
But the squishing and pinching don't stop there. Diluc has a playful side, and he finds delight in teasing you lovingly. When mornings are particularly tough, and you struggle to rise from the warmth of your bed, his solution is simple – a pinch and a gentle pull of your cheek. It's his way of playfully nudging you awake, reminding you that a new day is here, and he'll be right by your side through it all.
When the two of you explore the outskirts of Mondstadt, Diluc's fondness for your cheeks manifests in numerous ways. Be it playful teasing or a gesture of reassurance, his hand always finds its way to your cheeks. Sometimes, he'll affectionately pat them after a successful battle, telling you how proud he is of your strength and bravery.
In quieter moments, as you sit together by the fireplace, Diluc's fingers trace tender patterns on your cheeks, cherishing the softness of your skin. He loves how your cheeks scrunch up when you smile, how they blush when you're flustered. In public, Diluc's stoic facade remained intact, but you noticed his subtle glances and small, secret smiles when he saw you. During formal gatherings, his fingers would gently brush against your cheeks, a fleeting touch that conveyed his love and reassurance, even amidst the societal expectations.
To anyone watching from the outside, it might seem like a playful interaction, but to the two of you, it was a silent expression of affection. In those moments, Diluc's aloof facade melted away, revealing the soft, tender heart he kept hidden from the world. For in the quietude of your bond, amidst the squishing, pinching, and pulling of cheeks, you found solace in knowing that even in his own unique way, Diluc loved you more deeply than words could ever convey. And you, in turn, couldn't help but cherish every single cheek-squishing moment shared with your beloved Diluc, despite how annoyed you felt.
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