a/n: tagging @shotorus in this bc sel your sleepy gojo thoughts made me unable to stop thinking about this idea I've wanted to write. I know this is so different to the vibes of what you were talking about but I figured you deserved the tag since this lil drabble finally made its way out of my head bc of you <3 (pls don't feel like you need to read this I'm nervy just tagging you lol)
Gojo’s keys clang loudly against the bowl on the table in the entryway, and he has half a mind to cringe at the noise, seeing as it’s so late and you’re probably asleep by now. He unzips his jacket as he drags his feet in the direction of the bedroom, heaving out a sigh and finally letting his shoulders relax a little, letting some of the tension he’s been harboring for days leave his body. He's so tired that he feels like he could fall asleep in his clothes without even crawling beneath the duvet, though he knows he should at least shower first. But that's all forgotten when he steps into the warm glow spilling into the hallway from the light on your nightstand, and he hesitates for a moment when he notices that you're not asleep—in fact, you're very much awake, like you've been waiting for him.
Your gaze darts up when you see the figure in the doorway, a smile immediately lighting up your face. “You’re home,” you say as you set aside the book you were reading and pull your headphones off.
Gojo raises an eyebrow, making his way to the edge of the bed where you rise onto your knees to meet him. “You’re still up?”
And you nod, shrugging one shoulder slightly as you bring your hands up to cup his face. “Of course. Can’t really sleep well when I’m waiting for you to come back from a mission, ya know?” You say it so casually, but it makes him frown knowing you’re referring to the nineteen agonizing days he was gone from you. You lean in to close the distance between you two, pressing your lips to his in a hungry kiss that has him grasping your waist and pulling you flush against him.
“Well, as much as I wish you wouldn’t stay up just for me, I’m glad you did,” he murmurs into your mouth.
“Mmm,” is all you hum in response, pushing your fingertips underneath his blindfold. And then you kiss his nose, then his forehead, and then briefly his lips again.
And those lips fall into probably the prettiest pout you’ve ever seen. “You gonna take it off?” he asks, his voice low, and normally the tone would have you moving quickly to take everything off of him, but not tonight. Tonight, his voice is low with exhaustion, and you'd noticed the way it seemed to seep into his bones the moment he entered the room.
“No,” you say softly, and he nearly whines, “you’re tired. Your eyes—” You gently let your fingertips smooth across his eyelids over the blindfold “—I’m sure they need the rest.”
Gojo had a penchant for coming home with migraines after missions, all that time with his blindfold off to help him fight draining him and making his eyes even more sensitive than normal, and you’re sure tonight is no different.
“But I want to see you.”
The corner of your mouth tilts up. “I may not know exactly how your technique works, Satoru, but I know you can see me.”
And this time he does whine, squeezing your waist and pressing his forehead against yours. “You know it’s not the same. I wanna see you.”
You hum, stringing him along like you’re thinking about it and toying with the edge of the black fabric. “Okay,” you finally say, “just a peek, yeah?” Before he even has a chance to respond you're lifting it off and dropping it to the side. His hair falls around his face, messier than it normally is, and you gently brush it back.
Gojo blinks a couple of times to adjust his eyes to the light, and your chest tightens at the sleepy smile he gives you, at the way his eyes seem dimmer than usual. “Hi,” he whispers.
And you’re suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion that has you blinking back tears. “Hi.” You cup his face again, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. “I missed you.”
He flashes you a grin. “Aww, no need to miss me too much, you know I can’t stay away from you.”
And you both know it’s his attempt to lighten the mood, to pretend that someday there's going to be a time when you’re not waiting up for him, when you can be at peace despite knowing his responsibilities will always take him away for days at a time, when he's not carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders—when there's not a very real possibility that someday he may not come home to you.
So instead you just let your tears fall, giving him a wobbly smile. “I know.”
a/n: special thanks to the beautiful @stinkyme for inspiring me to actually write this and for fangirling over the idea with me <3
gojo satoru, like any dad, got his fair share of ‘bullying’ from his daughter, his 5 months old baby.
some dads get peed on, others get their hair pulled, and others get their nose bitten on the daily. it's a little something to make them suffer a bit like the mothers had to during the pregnancy.
your husband, however, is always getting smacked in the face whenever he has his blindfold on, and I mean harshly smacked in the face and unforgiving scratching.
the first time it happened was he was going to school. he was ready, uniform on and everything, but he simply had to say goodbye to his two girls.
skipping to your shared bedroom, he placed two big smooches on your face. then, after much of pulling him off you, he went to smooch his little girl. a big unmatched grin was on his face as he looked down at her in her crib.
he picked her up, cooing softly at her, “what a pretty girl, just as pretty as your mama, huh?”
satoru then laid her gently against his chest and started rocking her softly, while humming. after a while, he felt her stir a little in his arms. she sleepily looks up at him, and he smiles down at her, “good morning, baby—“
now, your daughter was used to seeing her dad without the blindfold. she was used to getting met by her dad's bright blue eyes.
so when a strange unknown man was holding her up instead of her papa, she started wailing and screaming, repeatedly smacking him in the face.
whenever her little—strong—hand landed on the blindfold, she would try to pull it off with all her baby might. you scrambled out of your bed at the loud screeches and screams of both your husband and your daughter.
you saw how satoru was desperately trying to, as gently as possible, make her release her grip. you stumbled on your words, before yelling, “your blindfold! take off your blindfold off!”
“I! am! trying!” he yelps as she continues slapping the hell out of his face.
you hurry and take his blindfold off, swiftly throwing it to the side. he started rocking her, smiling despite the red marks and scratches all over his handsome face, “it’s me, daddy! you see me?”
almost magically, your daughter calmed down in an instant with the occasional hiccup from her previous crying. he smiled, “there you go; that’s my girl.”
she gently made grabby hands at him, and he quickly pulled her back into his chest. your daughter instantly snuggled into his shoulder and hid her face in his neck.
you stared at him for a moment, “well, at least we know that she bloody hates that blindfold.”
it honestly kind of adds up.
you remember the many times that your daughter was generally distressed or fussy and instantly calmed down when she saw her dad’s eyes. you also remember that one time your daughter was actually zoning out while looking at satoru’s eyes, her own safe place.
satoru chuckles with a shrug, “I have you as my savior, anyway.”
“you can’t always count on me to be the one to save you from our daughter’s monstrously strong grip.”
and he can’t.
no one is brave enough to try and to fight back a baby, let alone the strongest sorcerer’s baby.
that attack happens way more than satoru would like. for example, whenever you’re busy, he takes his little princess to the school with him. in general, everyone helps in taking care of the little angel (devil in some cases).
however, god forbid she sees satoru coming back from a mission with his blindfold on.
it took some time for your husband to learn his lesson and immediately take his blindfold off before he entered the school. until then, he was prone to his daughter’s crazy strong hand smacking his face till his entire face is painted red and not the cute kind.
satoru never believed in his students to save him, except for yuuji. the first time it happened around the students, most of them were either laughing or speechless.
yuuji did try to save his sensei from his smacking machine of a daughter, but ended up getting smacked himself.
your husband did hope that, maybe, nanami’s heart would soften, and he would finally help him.
nanami’s heart did soften, just not for satoru. instead, your daughter now has a special soft spot in nanami’s heart, as he did in hers, but that isn’t our topic for today.
the amount of times you would enter the room to find nanami chuckling or smiling at your husband getting beaten to a pulp by your baby. satoru could be sobbing, “nanami, please! save me!”
and nanami would simply smile—sadistically—and hum, “I don’t think I will.”
you’re pretty sure that nanami believes this is god’s away of punishing your husband for all the mischief he caused.
ignoring that, it grips your heart how satoru’s face would brighten up the moment he saw you. he would run up to you, giving you the baby to calm her down while he gives his face a rest.
and your little girl was smiling and giving you her version of cheek kisses.
your husband recovered quickly though, and took her back, his blindfold finally off. he doesn’t do it without pecking your lips though, “my savior.”
then he gets lost in his own world with his little girl, and their laughs and giggles filled the room. her hands were gently holding her dad’s face as she squeals, and satoru’s heart soars as he forgets about his beating from a moment ago.
now, that doesn’t mean that his dear students don’t make fun of him for always losing against his little girl. during one of the recent teasings, he simply huffed, “you never tried the grip of a baby! tell them, yuuji!”
yuuji shudders as he remembers how long the slap mark lasted, “she is one hell of a strong baby.”
it’s one thing for panda and nobara to laugh, it’s another for megumi and maki to do so as well. your husband’s ego simply couldn’t take it anymore. he took his baby in his arms and gathered the baby bags, sparing one last glance at his ‘bullies’.
and so your husband dramatically exits the room, “I need my wife! I can’t with you people anymore!”
summary — why work so hard when you could just be free?
pairing — satoru gojo x f!reader
warnings — major jjk spoilers, graphic depictions of violence, hurt/comfort, angst, happy endings, reader has a cursed technique (mentioned once), established relationship
word count — 1.3k
author’s note — based on swan song by lana del rey. this is the most self indulgent selfship coded thing i’ve ever written but i needed to give gojo the happy ending he deserved idc if its cheesy or out of character
He’s dead.
Dead.
The strongest. Dead.
Satoru Gojo is dead.
A flash, then his body becomes two — legs here, torso there.
He’s not moving. Scarlet splatters the ground, blooms like a lily.
The air is disgustingly thick, and it hangs like a noose, and it cuts your throat. Nobody is breathing. Everybody knows.
This time, he’s not getting back up.
A scream claws its way out of your throat, vicious as it pierces through the air.
Someone else is stepping up to replace him already, a sorcerer with hair like seafoam. The King of Curses turns towards him, his stolen face twisting into a demonic grin, dripping with victory.
Right now there’s just one thing on your mind. Like instinct, like it’s your destiny. You don’t care about the politics, the consequences, the implications of his death. None of it matters.
You just want to be with Satoru.
Your feet are moving. They almost take off, but a steady grip pulls you back.
“You should leave.” Shoko’s voice quivers as she speaks. You’ve seen her composure crack so rarely that when you do it feels like your first time witnessing it.
Your face is hot, and it’s wet now. Your eyes sting. You don’t try to stop the tears, or even wipe them.
If you were to look up, you’d find eyes full of sorrow and shock and pity—you’re the grieving widow. His students have lost a teacher, his friends have lost a friend. At least I’m not her, they all think, I haven’t lost the love of my life.
Without another word, without even so much as one final glance at Satoru’s corpse, you leave. You can’t bear to be there any longer.
The taxi driver does not question why you’re crying. He pretends he does not hear the way you sniffle and gasp for air. He drives you to your home and drives away when you’ve paid him.
You breathe out. Your shoulders sag with relief. You will yourself to stop crying.
He’s in the living room, a thick arm thrown over his eyes as he half-naps. As soon as he hears you enter however, he springs up, beaming like the sun.
Satoru laughs a little at your puffy face and your glimmering eyes. He gathers you into a hug, his body hard and imposing and warm, and you cling to him. His heart pumps blood around his body and it’s loud in your ears.
“That was traumatic,” you say, but it gets muffled when you bury your face into his chest. He smells fresh, like the wind on a warm day. He must have showered since he teleported home.
Satoru’s laughing again. You wish he’d never stop. “You knew it was fake the whole time, how bad could it be?”
“I had to watch you die, Satoru! It was horrible even if it was fake,” you admit, tightening your arms around his waist, where his torso meets his legs.
He laughs, and it reverberates in his chest and rumbles through your body. You’re angry. You can’t climb inside of his skin and live there and you’re angry about it. His giant hands draw circles all over your back.
“I’m here, baby. I’m all yours now,” he tells you. For the first time, he means it without any exceptions.
…
“What if you faked your death?”
Satoru’s head whips over to look at you, scanning your face to find something that will tell him you’re not serious. But you are serious.
One word, he asks, “why?”
“So we can give up being sorcerers and leave Japan and never come back.”
Satoru grows quiet. There’s a pit in your stomach. He tells you constantly that he’d give you the world, and you believe him, and he loves you more than anything, yet he can’t bring himself to give up on humanity. Without him, the world doesn’t stand a chance. He’s the strongest, after all.
“Is that what you want?” he asks. It’s sincere.
“Yes,” you tell him, swallowing as you consider your next words. “I just got you back from the Prison Realm and now you have to fight Sukuna, who might actually kill you… You just give and give so much to the Jujutsu world and what do they give you back? Shit all. And I’m tired of watching you be wrung dry.”
He’s silent again. All the years that you’ve known him make it easy for you to know what he’s thinking. More than likely he’s thinking of Yuuji and Megumi and Yuuta. Maybe he wonders what Nanami would tell him to do, or what Geto would say.
It’ll be selfish. He’ll be abandoning everyone at the worst possible moment. He turns your words over and over in his head. Then he thinks of a life with you, a peaceful one, where you’ve left behind your days of sorcery, where he doesn’t have to be some pseudo-god.
Where he can grow old with you.
Perhaps, he thinks, it’s necessary for him to disappear. It’ll be a struggle without him, but he has faith. They’ll persevere.
“What are you thinking?” he asks eventually.
“I’ll use cursed energy to create a clone of you. Since my clones can’t use cursed techniques it’ll have to be right when Sukuna is about to kill you. You switch out and teleport out of there.”
For a moment he stares at you, then he chuckles, shifting sideways so he can lay on his back and stare at the ceiling with resolve.
“You’ve been thinking about this,” he says.
“I have,” you say. “For as long as I’ve loved you.”
…
He thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.
He’s convinced of it, actually. Life has filled your cheeks out and erased your dark circles away. Your eyes shine brighter. Fear no longer lives in them, nor does hopelessness.
Your fingers are gentle as you pluck fresh, plump tomatoes off the vine. Satoru’s heart swells because you’ve been so excited to harvest them.
“It’s just a handful for now,” you tell him, letting him peer inside the basket you have on your arm. There are a few bunches of rocket and basil leaves, and a small squash too.
He reaches in, takes a tomato and pretends to take a bite out of it until you snatch it from his hand and scold him.
“They just look too good, baby,” he says between laughs. You roll your eyes, but you don’t manage to bite back the smile that grows on your lips.
“Go finish building my chicken coop,” you tease, calling him by his last name, the one he took from you, then brushing past him to head back inside your home.
“I told you it’s almost finished!” he exclaims, trailing behind you as you make your way to the vintage renovated kitchen of your house.
Satoru settles on a stool at the island at the centre, observing the way you rinse the vegetables in the sink. To him it’s fascinating—well, you’re fascinating. The way your brow scrunches slightly with concentration. He hopes you never run out of vegetables to harvest and wash. He’ll make sure you don’t.
“By the way, what do you think about getting some mini goats?”
“I don’t care as long as you take care of them,” you tell him. “Do you want salad or roasted vegetables for lunch?”
Satoru’s heart races. He’s transported back to 2006 for a moment, when for some reason he wanted to be around you all the time and thought it was weird that he liked it when you teased him. Before he realised.
“Roasted vegetables, please. I love you.”
Satoru doesn’t look much different now. He’s gotten a little more toned, put on some muscle from some of the heavy work he does on the farm.
Reader who has been Gojo's friend since they were in highschool and maybe a little maybe a lot pining for him for years gets interviewed about him.
wc:1161
___
When you were approached by someone on your way out of the school for an impromptu interview you weren’t particularly pleased about it. They assured you it would be quick, they were just asking people a couple questions for posterity blah blah blah. You sighed and accepted it despite being tired and just wanting to go home.
So you’d gone and sat on one of your favorite benches under a big red japanese maple tree, crossed your legs and folded your hands over your knee before giving them the nod to go ahead.
“So who is Gojo Satoru to you?”
You give them an incredulous look.
“Ah sorry we’re asking quite a few people about him could you please-”
You sigh and glance up toward the vibrant leaves above your head. Memories so many memories about the man who’d you’d known since you were practically children. When you glance back your would-be interviewer gives you a look that’s both encouraging and pleading. It wasn’t exactly unknown how much time you spent around Gojo.
“Gojo is… a very good friend and a man who probably cares too much for others.” A small warm smile curls your lips, locking thousands more words within you.
The interviewer looks… surprised. “Could you elaborate.”
You debate how much to say giving a small tilt of your head. “Well… He’s the person I know I can always rely on, if there’s one person I know I can go to when I need to smile when things have been rough I know I can go to him. I know to most he comes across as eccentric and arrogant, and yes those aren’t exactly untrue things about him but he’s also someone who gives his everything for those around him. I think you’d be hard pressed to find someone who looks out more for those around them than he does.” You won’t realize it later until you see the video but as you speak about Gojo your expression is impossibly fond.
The interviewer motions to you as if they want you to say more and you give them a confused look.
“Is there anything else? Most people seem to have something particular they agree on about him.”
You stare at the interviewer, at first in puzzlement and then in annoyance as you realize what they’re trying to get you to say. “If others have said it, why do I need to? I don’t care about that. He’s a very dear friend to me and I think I’ve said enough for this interview.” You stand up, brushing off your work pants, and after you sling your work bag over your shoulder you begin to walk away, ignoring the interviewer trying to call you back.
Neither you or the interviewer noticed that the whole process had been observed from start to finish by the man in question.
—
You’re surprised the next day when Gojo wraps his arms around your shoulders from behind , resting his head on top of your own. You give a little jerk though you quickly realize it’s him. “Gojo! You know I startle easy don’t sneak up on me like that,” You give a small huff but there’s no heat behind it.
He hums, seemingly in thought. You flush a bit when he makes no move to let go of you. He’s always been one to disregard personal space with you but you couldn't deny the way that even after years of knowing him it still made your heart race, especially when he did it so openly. The second years could arrive at the training field anytime now.
“Gojo-”
“You gave me a lot to think about yesterday you know..”
“Huh? What do you mean?” You furrow your brow and reach up to untangle his arms from you so you can turn to look up at him. You’re almost startled to see his blindfold is pulled down around his neck as he’s studying you. Or it feels that way when you’re caught directly in his bright gaze.
“I was passing by when you were being interviewed.”
You huff, not yet catching what he’s getting at. “They were annoying, I don’t think they were interested in the answers I gave.”
“They might not have been but I was.” He smiles at you and his usual mischievousness is missing. “Did you mean what you said, is that how you see me?” His voice is smaller when he asks this part, almost as if he’s not sure he wants to.
“Of course,” without hesitation and then a bit more shyly, “of course I meant everything I said.” You glance away from him.
Gojo releases a breath, like he hadn’t been expecting your earnest answer. Did he maybe expect you to dance around what you’d said? “You’re really something you know that?” His hand cups your cheek and turns your face back toward him.
You swallow. “Normally when people have said that to me it’s meant in a negative way you know.”
He shakes his head, fluffy white hair bouncing with each turn of his head. “It was nice to hear… I don’t know that I’ve ever heard someone talk about me like that before.”
You want to make some sort of quip, cover up the shyness bubbling up inside you but something about this feels fragile, feels important. “Yeah, well.. I can say it again if you’d like… I actually have a lot more to say.” Your heart is hammering in your chest almost like it wants to escape, and maybe it does along with the words you’d been hanging onto since you were sixteen and you sat up all night playing videos games with a boy who’d burrowed his way between your ribs before you could do anything about it.
There’s a look of wonder to Gojo now and a grin with no edge takes over his face, dimples softly imdenting his cheeks. “I’d like that. I could say a few things to you too.”
“Yeah?” You ask and reach up to the hand cradling your cheek. Your smaller hand can’t possibly cover his but it’s enough. Enough to hold his hand there so you can do what will either be one of your best choices or most embarrassing as you turn into his palm so you can kiss it, and as you shyly look up at him through your lashes, lips still pressed to his palm, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Gojo blush like this before, his mouth falling into a little ‘o’ before he’s leaning down, pulling you in and-
Someone clears their throat loudly while someone else whistles. Mortified, you look over and see not only the second years but the first years as well. Not much in the way of training actually gets done and eventually you call off the lesson after one too many sly looks and hushed comments.
When Gojo slides back into your space after the disaster of a lesson and asks you out to dinner you of course say yes.
genre + warnings: - ANGST but FLUFFY ending!! jjk movie spoilers!! happens after the ending of jjk-0, death, sad gojo, kisses.
word count: 1,672
authors note: this was a request by my lovely @daisy-the-quake <3 it's a song-fic, inspired by the song "peaches” by grandson x k.flay
enjoy <3
Your eyes shoot open as you lie still and unmoving. The blinking red light of the clock on your bedside table indicates midnight. Yet another nightmare, about the same thing. It starts with you standing face-to-face with Suguru. His face twisted with the sneer he had on when he came to the school to announce his plan; "The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons". You try to move but you can’t. You try to talk to him, try to convince him to listen to reason, but nothing comes out. He laughs, then it shifts and his laughing transitions into an irksome drone coming out of his ajar mouth. It turns into an incessant buzzing growing exponentially until it’s so loud you can’t see, think, or feel anything. And then the noise stops completely and you’re standing in the sky looking down at Satoru standing in an arena, alone, with a horde of shadows surrounding him. They all make their way toward him like ants capturing a crystal of sugar. You don't do anything. You don’t move or scream or fight. You feel like you don't even exist. Just when the shadows are about to swallow him whole does he look up at you, with hollow eyes and no will to survive.
The hammering of raindrops against your windows could’ve also been a factor, but the sweat on your face and the drumming of your heart indicate otherwise. Taking a few deep breaths you try to normalize your heartbeat. It was exhausting, having the same nightmare over and over again. Ever since Suguru died, all your dreams seemed to be about the same thing. Then you imagine, how Satoru must be feeling. You fall back into reality and realize Satoru’s side of the bed was abandoned. It had been a few days since Suguru died, and since then Satoru had been acting strangely. You never asked him straight up if he was okay, because you know he wasn’t. Of course, he wasn’t. So you tried to show him you were there if he wanted to talk, but he always laughed it off and changed the subject without showing a moment’s weakness. He was acting like nothing happened and life was just fine and dandy. The dream you had fills your mind with thoughts of Satoru losing his mind to the grief of losing his best friend and trudging down a path from which he could never return. You couldn't help him in your dream. Instead, you just stood there watching him get consumed by his demons. You bolt out of bed to look for him. He wasn’t in the apartment you both shared, so you made a guess and decided to trust your gut. You take your keys, wear a raincoat, take an umbrella, shove your phone in your pocket, and make your way to Jujutsu Tech.
Parking your motorcycle in front of the steps of the school you see him sitting on the steps, head downturned and raindrops ricocheting off his Infinity. Once you start climbing the steps, does he lift his head to give you a small smile, tired and sullen, not at all like his genuine smile.
You sigh and sit next to him, shoulders touching and legs brushing. Your face was half-covered by the hood of the raincoat but some raindrops still fell on your nose and exposed hands. Hearing the familiar buzz of Satoru’s Infinity, you look up and watch the raindrops slide down around you, making you feel like you were encased in a snow globe. The pattering of raindrops sounded muted and you felt safe and protected from the terrors of the world. So, this is how Satoru feels?
“What brings you here?”
You remove your hood and look into his dull eyes. Shrugging, you reply with a tender voice, “I couldn’t find you so I figured you’d be here.”
Satoru huffs, looking away and linking his hands together over his knees, “I’m fine before you ask.”
Gojo Satoru was a complex human being. Sometimes people tend to forget he is a human being, thanks to his charisma, strength, and holier-than-thou attitude. But that’s all he was; a human being, blessed burdened with the strength of a God. The ever-present smile on his dazzling face makes you forget that he’s not a shiny person. But when his eyes dim and his smile falls in the dark of the night when a million eyes aren’t on him you realize just how bruised and battered he is.
You release a tired breath. He thinks he’s all alone in this world. He thinks no one can ever help him with anything because no one is as strong as him. The world always revolved around him, his strength, his power, his name. No one could ever equal him, so he believes it’s only fair for him to carry his burdens and sorrows on his own.
“Y’know Satoru…” He glances at you and quirks a thin, silver eyebrow. You stare ahead, picking at the skin around your nails.
“You’re not alone. As much as you want to believe you are, you aren’t. So, if you aren’t gonna let me in, that’s fine. Just- please let yourself feel without putting on a front.”
You hear him exhale and watch him hang his head down from your peripheral vision.
“What’s the point?” He mutters under his breath. The only reason you could hear him at all was because his Infinity dulled the noise in the outside world.
This time you stare at his downturned head and you can’t stop yourself from speaking, “What’s the point? The point is that you don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to hurt alone. I want you to share your pain with me! Yeah sure, you can get through this alone. You can shove it under the rug, but just this once, don’t be the strongest. Just let me hurt with you, let’s get through this together. Please, Satoru.”
He lifts his head and stares you straight in your eyes. You know how much he’s hurting. His world turned upside down and everything changed. He had to watch his friend plummet into the darkness and he had to be the one to deliver the final blow. His heart is shattered and you’re scared there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. The only thing you can do is be by his side and try to pick up his broken pieces.
He exhales a shaky breath as his eyes glisten like a dewdrop on a blade of grass, “Can we get through this?”
You reach out your hand and move a couple of strands of his hair from his vision. You let your hand lie against his warm cheek and he lets his eyes shut, “I know everything went to shit. But it’s not permanent, Satoru. I don’t know if things will get better, but we can only hope, right?”
He takes your hand in his own and runs his thumb over your knuckles.
“Yeah. We can only hope.”
He sighs and stares at your hand, “I miss him.”
“I know…”
You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back. It’s dark, except for a few streetlights. You think he’d enjoy a piece of cake or something sweet right about now. You open your mouth to ask him when he beats you to it, “Things won’t be the same.”
Your mouth hangs open and you wait as he continues speaking, “It might get better, it might get worse. Honestly? It doesn’t matter. We can’t really afford to be optimistic with a life like ours.” He lets out a humorless laugh. Looking at you, he gives you a gentle smile and leans forward to kiss your forehead. He lingers there for a quiet moment as the rain serenades you both.
“We’ll get through this.”
You love him so much. Looking at his beautiful, weary face, you smile and leave a chaste kiss on his lips. Stealing another kiss, he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, “I love you, y’know that?”
Smiling, you stand and give him your hand, “Yeah, I love you too.”
He holds your hand and stops you on your way down the stairs, “Hey…I'm sorry for being selfish. I know you’re hurting too. I don’t want you to think I don't notice that.”
Turning back to look at him, you caress his knuckles with your thumb, “It's okay, Satoru-”
“No, it's not.” He stands on the upper step, looking down at you with tender eyes, "D'you have another nightmare? Is that why you woke up?" He traces the dark circles under your eyes and keeps his thumb on the apple of your cheek.
You sigh and close your eyes momentarily, "Yeah..."
"You wanna talk about it?"
Your free fingers wrap around his slender wrist as you look up at his glittering, blue eyes. "Maybe later." He nods.
You both walk down the steps, your hand warm in his. By now the rain had slowed down to a soft patter. He notices the umbrella tied on the backseat of your motorcycle and quirks an eyebrow, “Why’d you bring this?”
You offer a sheepish smile and take out your keys from your pocket, “I- uh, figured you might need it. I thought you’d deactivate your Infinity and sit in the rain or something… So y’know I didn’t want you to waste all your energy covering us both from the rain but I guess that’s exactly what you did so it was pretty usele-”
Your rambling was immediately shut down by the press of his lips against yours. You feel him smile into the kiss and your heart feels so warm. I love him so much. Hugging you, he rests his chin on your head, “Thank you.”
You think it’s ironic how you’re shivering from the cold yet feeling so incredibly warm at the same time. He chuckles and unties the umbrella taking a seat on the backseat of your bike, “Let’s go home, yeah?”
a/n: well, after chapter 236 this sure is a knife to the heart.
Hello my loves! Here’s the much delayed masterlist for Faint Of Heart, including your amazing and talented oneshots and headcanons and art! <3 This story wouldn’t be the same without you, thank you! <3
Gif by: @jeffreydeanmorgans
Summary: An arranged marriage gets complicated when feelings get involved.
Chapter 1: Nothing good comes after midnight
Chapter 2: Dangerous always conquers pretty.
Chapter 3: Understanding someone’s feelings is always difficult
Chapter 4: Lying can be quite easy.
Chapter 5: Calmness is only a trick.
Chapter 6: A gift can mean many things.
Chapter 7: War doesn’t only take place on battlefield.
Chapter 8: Being cold can be learned.
Chapter 9: Past tends to come back.
Chapter 10: Anything can happen during a dinner.
Chapter 11: It was cursed from the start.
Chapter 12: Midnight is not for sleeping.
Chapter 13: Viking Queens are supposed to be strong.
Chapter 14: Making an impression is important.
Chapter 15: Falcon captures the serpent.
Chapter 16: Peace has its own time.
Chapter 17: Sometimes, bliss follows the nightmares.
Chapter 18: Spending time apart can change people.
Chapter 19: Being adaptable is important for planning.
Chapter 20: Underestimation can be dangerous.
Chapter 21: Anger does not have to be loud.
Chapter 22: Then, bliss ends.
Chapter 23: Pain doesn’t last forever.
Chapter 24: Apologizing can make things worse.
Chapter 25: Pretending is difficult.
Chapter 26: Rules of war can be used differently.
Chapter 27: Plans change.
Chapter 28: Some battles are fought beside friends.
Chapter 29: Every story has its end.
Faint Of Heart Headcanons
[Faint Of Heart Sequel Oneshots] :
Poison: Everyone has limits that should not be crossed.
Fickle Love: Love does not care about social status.
The Wolf: Nightmares are always scary.
[Faint Of Heart Modern Au Oneshots]:
Valentines Day Oneshot: There are many ways to celebrate Valentine’s Day.
[Talented Faint Of Heart Family and Their Art/Oneshot/Series <3]
A lot of different series and oneshots based on Faint of Heart by : @rhabakoli
Faint of Heart - Big Brothers oneshot by: @theladybiers
Faint of Heart- Floki and gifts oneshot by : @shy-violet-soul
Faint of Heart Baby Shark drabbles Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 by: @finnickfoxes
Faint of Heart Baby Oneshot by: @shy-violet-soul
Playlist by: @alyssiamarierenee
Amazing gif set by : @jeffreydeanmorgans
Moodboard by : @xhaleesii
Faint of Heart Queen Art by : @aikeji
Moodboard of Ivar and the Queen by: @flowers-in-your-hayr
For my lovely anon who asked for husband Neuvillette, I bring you a whole fic. This man has me in a chokehold and I need everyone to know how much I love him.
Pairing: Neuvillette x fem! Reader
Word Count: ~7k
Summary: Tired of waiting for you to find a husband, your parents find one for you. One who happens to be the Chief Justice of Fontaine. A new city, a new life, a new husband. So much new, and you could only hope, deep in your heart, that you would find happiness and love in Fontaine.
The first time you meet him, it's rather formal.
It's not as though you have much of an option. Though you certainly couldn't say you expected when you woke up to be told that your parents had found a husband for you, and that you'd be married in a week.
They had been pushing marriage lately, saying you were the right age, but the thought had been far from your mind. You thought you still had time, and the next thing you knew, you were being brought to Fontaine.
It's certainly different from Liyue. The hills and mountains are different from the Stone Forrest. The air feels different, there's water heavy in it.
You wait, in an ornate room that feels much too fancy. You've been left alone for a brief moment, the most your parents have allowed since you were told the news.
Part of you wonders if you could escape if you jumped out the window. A quick glance told you that it was much too high to entertain that idea. You'd end up breaking a leg before you got out of this marriage.
The door opens. A man appears, with long white hair with blue streaks in it. Simply from his appearance, you can tell that this is someone important. Your spine straightens as sharp eyes land on you, zeroing in on you.
You felt small, for a moment. As though he was judging you for simply existing in a space you'd rather not be in. Though your parents didn't care if you had plans or wished to find a husband on your own.
The man doesn't say anything. He closes the door behind him with a click, and makes his way over to you. Despite the desire to shrink back, you stand your ground, until he finally stands before you.
Up close you can see more details. He towers over you in height, but you suppose most people would feel short compared to him. His eyes capture your attention the most, the pupils such a strange shape, but gorgeous nevertheless.
"I apologize for leaving you waiting," he starts, almost looking as lost as you on how to start.
You wave your hands frantically in front of you. "It's fine! I didn't expect anyone to come in. I was told I would be meeting-"
Saying future husband felt much too strange. The man in front of you notices your pause, and arches a single silver brow. You frantically try to remember the name of the man who is meant to be your fiance.
"Ah, sorry, I was meant to meet a Mister Neuvillette?" your voice stumbles awkwardly over the new word, still struggling with the accent.
On the trip to Fontaine, your parents had tried to give you lessons on the language, as though you would become fluent in the few hours it took to travel.
The man blinks. And then he blinks again, as though he's trying to figure out what you just said.
Apparently the lessons hadn't worked.
"Sorry, my accent needs work," you apologize. "I hear he's the Chief Justice?"
The man nods, slowly. "That is correct."
You hum, non-committal, waiting to see if your company decides to keep the conversation going. When he doesn't, you find yourself unable to think of words.
Well, this felt awkward. And from the way the man still seemed at a loss for words, he also felt the same.
The tension could almost cut a knife.
He clears his throat after a moment, the sound almost makes you jump.
"Yes, well..." he pauses, gesturing towards the couch. "I am sure monsieur Neuvillette will be here soon."
You take a seat near him. Not close enough to be inappropriate, but close enough that it would be clear that you were talking. Maybe "monsieur Neuvillette" will see the two of you and decide that this marriage wasn't something he wanted a part of.
"Congratulations on your engagement," your new friend tells you after a moment. You give him a tight lipped smile.
"Thanks."
Once again, silence descends over you two. You fidget with your skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles from travel. Hopefully, it wasn't something your new husband would be upset about.
At least the silence didn't feel as oppressive this time. You let yourself relax, taking a deep, steadying breath.
"Can I ask you something?"
The man beside you nods. You still haven't gotten his name yet, you realize. You'd have to ask later, after some other questions. Who knows when your parents and future husband will be coming.
"Um...how is Neuvillette?" you tentatively ask, to which you only receive a rather blank, if not curious look.
You suppose you'll have to be more direct. Though it almost pains you.
But at least, if he's not kind, you would like a warning. Some way to prepare yourself for what the rest of your life is going to be like. Some women, they don't even get that. They were woken up on the day of their wedding, and the rest of their lives was at the whims of their husbands.
You steel yourself, and fully turn your attention to your friend.
"Is he kind?"
Something in him softens at that. He looks at you with an emotion that you can't recognize in that moment. Pity, maybe?
He opens his mouth, but before you can get your answer, the door opens.
Your parents lean in for a moment, see you sitting on the couch, talking to a stranger, but strangely have nothing bad to say about that. In fact, they look delighted.
"Are you two getting along well?" your mother asks you, somewhat reminding you of a cat just having caught a bird.
The satisfaction on her face made you uneasy, like there was a secret you were missing.
"Fine, thank you," your friend replied for you when you couldn't manage words. "Your daughter is very polite."
Your parents beam at that. The uneasy feeling in your stomach gets worse.
"Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette."
Somehow, it hadn't dawned on you. Your stomach feels like it falls into the floor, but Neuvillette doesn't seem to have any other reaction, looking at your parents. They don't even wither under his stare.
You never wanted to shrink into the floor more. You had just asked your future husband about himself. And more than that, you asked him if he was kind.
Your parents talk with Neuvillette, allowing you a moment to feel invisible and wallow in your self-pity and embarrassment.
At least, until you feel a small tug on the sleeve of your blouse.
It's one of the melusines, you had found them to be very cute upon first seeing them. Your parents hadn't explained much about them, so you found yourself blinking down at the small melusine.
"He is," she says to you, nodding.
You tilt your head to the side. Briefly, you feel eyes on you, but when you look at your parents, they're still talking to Neuvillette, and taking his attention.
"He's what?"
She hands you a long ribbon. It's a deep, ocean blue, the same color that Neuvillette is wearing.
"He is kind," she explains, patiently, as though you were a child. "I heard you ask."
Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, especially as she climbed up next to you, weaving the ribbon through your hair, and both your parents and Neuvillette turned to stare.
"Y/N, that is very rude to ask," your mother scolds, because that is the lot of women in life, only to worry about when men think of you and what might make you undesirable. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.
"Nonsense, it is a very reasonable question to ask. Why wouldn't someone want to know who they're marrying?" Neuvillette cuts in, before your mother can scold you any more.
Your parents fall silent, nodding their heads in agreement as though they hadn't been about to lecture you like a child. You would have laughed if it wasn't for the Melusine finishing with your hair.
"There," she says, with her self imposed job done. "Will you be having a wedding?"
You weren't sure your heart could take any more surprises today. Your cheeks hadn't even lost their blush from the first moment, at this point you didn't think they'd ever go back to their normal color.
"We'll have to see," you murmur, because you weren't completely sure yourself.
She nods, taking in your word and opinion as though it was law. Neuvillette didn't contradict you either, but did finally turn back to your parents.
You don't get too much of a chance to participate in most of the conversation. The Melusine, Sedene, as you learned the name of, asks you more questions that keep you occupied.
It's a welcome distraction. It's better than awkwardly listening to a conversation about your future where at least two of the three people here wouldn't even care for your input.
The jury was still out on Neuvillette.
Eventually though, it grew late, late enough that Sedene was sleeping with her head on your lap. It seemed that finally the other three were tired of negotiating over your life.
Before you knew it, you looked up from your lap just in time to see Neuvillette leave without even a goodbye, the door clicking behind him. Your parents look much too pleased with themselves, which you somehow didn't think was possible.
"I told you, the match would be a good one," your mother tells your father, pride seeping into her voice.
You're not so sure. You can't be sure. At least not yet.
"Yes," your father agrees, with the same fond voice he always had when he didn't want to argue with your mother, and it's easier just to agree.
It seems, just like the foundation of Liyue, that your future is set in stone.
You hope Fontaine will be kind to you.
-x-x-x-x-
You do not have a wedding.
It's actually fine with you. More than fine, really. Apparently as Chief Justice of Fontaine, Neuvillette is well liked and popular. The amount of people you'd have to invite to the wedding would be too many for you.
So you simply don't. You sign a document and in the eyes of the law, and of Neuvillette, that is enough.
Though a part of you aches that you will never have the traditional Liyuen wedding you dreamed of as a child. But you suppose that dreams of childhood should stay there.
You move into Neuvillette's home. Fontaine comes as a culture shock, almost.
The amount of times you get absolutely lost in this fish-bowl of a city manages to astound even you.
It's not your fault, really. Liyue Harbor is easy to navigate, warm and welcoming. In Fontaine, the streets all somehow manage to look the same, though the shops sell things you never even thought of. At some point, you're pretty sure you even see a woman standing outside of a building with a mechanical bird.
You end up seeing other Melusines more than your new husband. You don't really blame him for this, his job is important and needed, so each day he bids you a single "good morning" along with a look you couldn't decipher, as he heads to the Opera House.
That's a whole other thing about Fontaine that you still haven't investigated.
It's not as though you're upset that you don't see Neuvillette often. But he is one of the few people that you know here, and it doesn't take long for you to be lonely in the new city, without any of your friends.
Though you find the Meluine's to be kind. They help you when you get lost, and press small gifts into your palms as they take your hands to lead you around.
They tell you to tell Neuvillette to take some time off work. To spend some time with you. You nod and agree that you'll tell him the next time you see him.
But when the man quickly leaves in the morning and doesn't return until late, you never really get a chance to.
If you didn't know any better, you would have thought he'd been avoiding you.
It's like that for almost a month. He says good morning, disappears, and you wander the city to familiarize yourself with it. He never comes home until the sun has almost set, and night is almost there, while you wander until the rain finally starts for the day.
You asked the Melusine's about it once, commenting that there wasn't so much rain in Liyue. They tell you of the hydro dragon and the tears it cries. You hope that someday you will get to meet this dragon and see what makes them so sad.
At least, it stays like that until it doesn't, as most things tend to do.
You were lost, which wasn't too much of a surprise, but unlike the times before, there were no Melusine's to bring you back home or to a place you knew. The rain had started earlier today, earlier than anyone seemed to expect, and before you knew it, you were huddled in an alley, your clothing absolutely soaked and shivers running down your spine from the wet and the cold.
You missed Liyue. You missed your friends, your parents, you missed the smells and sounds of the harbor. Tears burned in your eyes and mixed with the rain on your cheeks.
Standing there simply isn't going to fix things though, so you eventually left your small, but dry, protection, and decided to finally figure out this city.
Your confidence fades the longer you walk around.
It takes almost two hours of wandering around in the rain until you finally recognize something. Not the path home, but to the first place you ever meet Neuvillette, despite not knowing at the time.
You push open the door. It's late, though that doesn't seem to mean the place is devoid of life. Wrapping shaking arms around yourself, you spot a sliver of light coming from Neuvillette's office.
It felt much too late to be working, but perhaps it was Sedene, fixing up things. Tentatively, you knock on the door, and the faint scratching of a pen against paper suddenly stopped.
Suddenly, this felt like a mistake. You took a single step back, but before you could change your mind and leave, the door swung open and Neuvillette stood there, a look of mild concern on his face.
Neither of you spoke. Neuvillette looks you up and down, brows furrowing, and you realize all at once that you must look like a sight, absolutely soaked and dripping water on the floor. If you weren't so cold, your cheeks would be flushed.
"Why are you here?" he asks, glancing around as though that would provide him with the answer.
Your shoulders slump. You can't really explain why. Maybe it's the disappointment at the sight of you, or the lack of a warm welcome. Not 'what happened to you' or 'why are you soaking wet' but instead a question that felt almost like he questioning your presence in general.
"I-um," you stutter through chattering teeth, "I got lost and didn't know where to go."
That felt like an understatement of what happened, but you weren't sure how else to answer the question.
Neuvillette didn't seem to know either.
When he didn't say anything more, you shifted from foot to foot, wincing at the cold and the squish of wetness. You'd be lucky if you didn't get sick, after this.
"You got lost?" he finally asks, as though the concept was foreign to him.
You don't know what to say, so you shrug, peering around him. It seemed Sedene had already left for today, and there went your hope for an escort home.
"The streets all look the same to me," you manage, shivering again. "Uh-you can just tell me which way to go, and I'll get out of your hair. I didn't mean to be a bother."
"And why didn't you ask anyone for help? Anyone could have told you where I live."
The question almost comes out cold, for how logical it is. You huff, a small noise of frustration. All you wanted at the moment was to get out of these wet clothes and to be warm again. But it seems that isn't going to happen any time soon.
"Never mind," you murmur, suddenly so tired. Of course he wouldn't understand why you wouldn't want to ask for help. Your Fontainian was still in it's learning stage, and while you could ask a couple of questions with a thick accent, you had no idea how to ask someone to lead you home.
Plus, wouldn't it reflect badly on him, to have a wife who didn't even know how to return home? But you supposed, if it didn't matter to him, then it shouldn't matter to you.
"I'll see you at home, then," you murmur, turning on your heel to leave.
It was the last thing you wanted to do at the moment. The rain seemed to be coming down even harder, you could hear the thunderous roar of rain against the roof as you went to the main door.
A little more rain wouldn't hurt, and you were pretty sure you knew the way home from here.
You step out into the rain, but surprisingly, you don't get any wetter than before. The rain hits something above you, and you glance up to see an umbrella.
Neuvillette stands slightly behind you, umbrella extended over you. You still hadn't stopped shivering, teeth clattering together. Neuvillette almost looks pained as he looks down at you.
"You'll catch your death out here," he says, as though that explains everything.
And then, in true Fontaine fashion, he extends his arm out to you to link your own through, a true and proper escort.
You take it, if only for the stability. And maybe the warmth. And also the umbrella is hardly big enough for two, if you don't stand close, then Neuvillette would get wet as well.
That's the only reason.
He makes quick work of the walk home, and you were almost dismayed by how close you had been the entire time. By the time you walk up the steps, still shivering from the cold, the rain had finally stopped, the sky clearing to reveal the stars.
"I shall make you something to eat while you dry off," he says, as though it is the law of the land.
You wonder if that is how he sounds in court, when he's trying the cases. You almost want to argue just for the sake of it.
But being dry and having a warm meal sounds much too good to ignore, so you only nod, and go to change your clothes. You debate on taking a bath, the call of the warm water ends up being much too tempting for you.
You emerge feeling like a new person. The water washes away the feelings of the day, and the coldness in your bones. You emerge feeling like a new person, if not a bit more tired and ready for bed than before.
Neuvillette is true to his words. Your hair drips with water as you peek into the kitchen, only to find him sitting at the table, waiting, with two bowls of soup in front of him.
"Come," he says when you don't move forward. You do as asked, sitting beside him and inhaling the rich aroma of the soup.
You had found here that the food varied greatly from what you were used to in Liyue. It certainly wasn't bad, but it was an adjustment. Even the soup was a bit creamier than you were used to, but you ate it eagerly, allowing it to chase away whatever lingering chills the bath hadn't rid you of.
"I'd like to apologize," Neuvillette starts, his own food barely touched, like it's an afterthought for him.
You tilt your head, exhaustion falling over you from the soup and warmth. "For what?"
He looks embarrassed. It's a rather cute look on the normally stoic man. Neuvillette struggles for words, almost seeming to give the words spoken to you the same value that he gives to the court.
"I was not aware that you were struggling to adjust here, I should have foreseen such an event occurring."
He almost looks upset, suddenly. You understand, at least you think you understand. It must be hard having a wife who couldn't even navigate the city of your home.
"It's okay, I'll do better in the future," you reassure, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder as you stand.
It's the first bit of contact you've had since you were married and he placed a kiss upon your cheek at your parents badgering. He looks a bit annoyed though, so you retract your hand to not make him more uncomfortable.
"That's not what I meant. I meant that I should have been here to help you adjust."
"Oh," you say, honestly confused. "it's alright. You're very important here, I don't want to be a bother when you're so busy."
Your words seem to have the opposite of your intended desire. If anything, he looks more upset, leaving you with a rather sour taste in your mouth.
You seemed to be more of an inconvenience than you had even considered.
You hoped this wouldn't turn into an argument. You were tired from wandering and walking for hours, from being caught out in the rain. You rested your head on your hand, trying to think of something to say.
Before your tired mind could think of anything, Neuvillette sighed, a long suffering thing that sounded much older than he must be.
"You should go to bed."
You don't need to be told twice. You take your dish to the sink, leaving it there to be washed by you in the morning. Neuvillette rises, though it seems more to see you off than to actually leave.
"Good night, y/n," he says quietly, still as upset as before.
"Good night, monsieur Neuvillette."
You fall asleep as soon as you're tucked underneath the covers of your bed. You wonder if it's the bed that you're meant to share with your husband, but he never joins you.
And that's fine with you.
-x-x-x-x-
He's still there, in the morning.
It's a sight that makes you freeze coming out of your bedroom, just able enough to peek down the hall and see him in the same place as last night, at the kitchen table. He holds the paper in his hands, the same one that you've seen just about everyone in Fontaine obsessed with.
Did you wake up early? A quick glance at the time told you no, that in fact you had woken up later than normal. Neuvillette was meant to be long gone by now, off to court.
As though sensing your stare, the paper falls, and startling purple eyes lock onto you.
"Ah, you're awake."
You nod, because what else are you going to do? Neuvillette folds the paper back into its original shape.
"Let me know when you are ready to leave."
Well, you couldn't say you expected that to happen. You nod after a second, before disappearing to get yourself ready.
While you don't look your best, at least you aren't soaked and shaking. Really, the amount of time that you've spent with Neuvillette could be counted on one hand, and you did not like the thought of one of those times being when you were in such a sorry state.
A little bit later, you were back by Neuvillette, looking at him with nothing short of confusion as he prepares to leave.
Oh, the disappointment aches for a moment. Like a child being promised a treat only to have it taken away.
"Well? Come along then."
His voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You take a few, tentative steps forward, until he offers you his hand.
You take it, after a moment, brows furrowed with confusion.
"Don't you have court to attend to?" you ask, as he leads you outside.
"I have sent notice that I will be taking today off. I have recently become aware that my wife needs a tour of Fontaine, and I consider that a much more pressing item on my agenda."
Your cheeks color. You can't tell if it's at being called Neuvillette's wife, or from how he doesn't let go of your hand even when you walk outside.
Before you can ask him if he's sure, if he can really take time off, Neuvillette gestures down the street, and begins what has to be one of the most in depth tours of Fontaine to exist.
This time, getting lost in the sights and sounds is fun. Neuvillette explains every building you pass, the history behind it, and what is happening there now. He lets you pull him in random directions when something catches your eye, and answers every question that you can even think of.
It's fun. Neuvillette is well liked by the people, and suddenly that seems to mean you're well liked as well. The food vendors give you free samples, pressing them into your palm and insisting that you take it despite your protests.
Even the Melusine's stop, chatting with you more than Neuvilllette, much to his surprise. He even comments that you know their names, and seems very ashamed when you point out that you've spent more time with them instead of him.
You feel like you can actually navigate the city, by the time the sun is setting. Your bones ache from the exhaustion that the excitement has left you with. When Neuvillette notices, he starts herding you home, despite your protests.
The last thing you want is for the day to end. Going back to how it was before seems unbearable now that you know how it could be. If Neuvillette knows of your plight, he says nothing of it.
He simply wishes you a good night, and lets you head to bed.
If it's a dream, you hope that you will remember every detail of it.
-x-x-x-x-
Things don't change after that, much to your relief.
Neuvillette stays in the morning, talking with you sometimes. Most of the time he reads, while you make coffee for yourself, and subsequently him. He likes it with two sugars, no milk.
The information feels nice to have. Especially when, on the very, very rare occasions you wake up before him, you can have a hot cup of coffee waiting for him.
The little things before you grow before anything else. Conversations in the morning. Coffee. Neuvillette bringing you home treats that you love, especially the conch madeleines.
There are other things, as well. When you mention missing a certain dish from Liyue, Neuvillette goes out of his way to procure it for you. You're not sure how he manages to do it, but if it means you can get slow cooked bamboo shoot soup whenever you like, then you're happy not to know.
He comes home earlier, as well. As soon as the case is done for the day, it feels like he's on his way to find you. You're happy to do just that, telling him of everything you managed to do during the day, or whatever else is going on in your head that you want to share.
Neuvillette always listens. And he remembers. You mention once, in an off handed comment, about how beautiful you thought the rainbow roses of Fontaine were.
The next day, you woke up to a bouquet of them at your bedside.
You do your best to return the favor, going to collect him at the Opera house when his day is finished.
When you were younger, you read stories of people falling in love instantly, with a single look and it was easy from there.
You think now, as a married woman, that the stories are wrong. Love comes in the small gestures, in the moments spent together.
-x-x-x-x-
It's pouring rain outside. A heavy downpour that has been going on for the last hour.
It's also the time Neuvillette normally comes home, but it doesn't seem that way today. The change in routine throws you off more than you'd like to admit.
You wait another half hour before you grab your cloak, a heavy thing that Neuvillette insisted on buying you so you wouldn't get soaked in the rain any longer, and head out to the Opera House.
You're not too fond of the aquabuses here. They're faster than walking, but something about them feels so awkwardly slow. But with a bit of tension in your shoulders, you bite down the complaints and make small talk with the Melusine piloting the aquabus as you arrive.
Neuvillette only took you over here once, to show you the Fountain of Lucine. You suppose, on another level, it was also to make sure that you knew where the Opera House was in case you needed him and didn't want to get lost.
You're thankful for his planning.
Everyone else has already left, except for a very dedicated couple by the fountain, praying for blessings upon their child. You wonder if someday that will be you, but dismiss the thought with a blush.
It takes you much too long to find Neuvillette. For a man who cuts such an imposing figure, you wander around in the rain looking for him for much longer than needed. Eventually though, you find him at the back of the Opera House, standing in the rain as though he doesn't notice it.
"Neuvillette?" you call, quiet, as to not startle him. It seems you do so anyways, from how he jumps. "Are you alright?"
He nods, but doesn't speak. You reach out to take a gloved hand, everything about him feels cold.
You lead him back home, and he follows you as though he has no mind for anything else. It takes too long to get home but also not enough time. You hold his hand the entire way.
"Was court today rough?" you finally ask, when you're in the security of your shared home. Neuvillette lets out a hum, not agreeing but not disagreeing either.
You usher him to the bathroom to clean himself up, and go to make something warm, when the irony of the situation hits you all at once, because it must have only been a few months ago that Neuvillette did the same thing for you.
It felt nice to have the roles switched.
Neuvillette doesn't seem hungry, so you usher him into your own bed, since truthfully you've been suspicious that he's been sleeping on the couch or at his desk in his office to prevent you from feeling uncomfortable.
You sit down, and urge him to lay his head in your lap. You brush your fingers through his slightly damp hair, and you hum a Liyuen lullaby your mother used to sing to you.
Neuvillette never talks about court. You asked him once and only once about it, curious since everyone in Fontaine seemed to think that the cases were some kind of show. But Neuvillette had simply said that it was very usual, and not worth discussing.
At the time, you took him at his word. Now though, you wonder if it's something more.
"I believe an innocent man was sentenced today," Neuvillette says, after a moment. His voice is so soft, you almost can't hear it under the pouring rain outside.
"Is that so?" you ask, a silent prompt. Does he want to continue? Or leave it there?
He sighs after only a second, pressing further against your hand in his hair. Like a cat seeing attention.
"I'm sure it will be resolved soon, I simply need to investigate things more."
You nod, remaining silent. Neuvillette doesn't explain more, but eventually, as his breathing evens out, the rain comes to a stop outside.
You can't bring yourself to move. It would no doubt wake up Neuvillette, and that seemed like the last thing anyone needed. So you settled amongst the pillows, and close your eyes.
If you wake up tomorrow, still close to another and sleepy limbs tangled together, you said nothing of it. Neither does Neuvillette.
After that though, your bed becomes just the bed, and you're not opposed to that at all.
-x-x-x-x-
The Fountain of Lucine ends up being one of your favorite places in Fontaine. Not for any particular reason, you tell yourself, it's simply pretty to look at.
And that's not a lie. It is pretty to look at, and it's fun to visit and listen to expecting parents wish for good things for their children. It was nice to see the sights and sounds without the hustle and bustle of the city.
The first time you end up going out though, you can't say you had the most pleasant experience.
You had gotten the idea in your head, perhaps you were too bored lately, that you should visit Neuvillette at work and bring him lunch. So you packed a small bag, and made the journey.
Only to be stopped at the entrance of the Opera House by one of the gardes.
"Court is in session, no one is allowed in, miss, without a ticket."
Your head tilts to the side, truly puzzled. A ticket? People bought tickets to court, as though it was a show?
"I'm not going to see the court, I came to drop something off for Neuvillette," you explain to the man, holding up the small box.
The man eyes it with a bit of suspicion, and part of you almost wants to ask if he really thinks you've poisoned it. Another part of you is sure that if you ask, you will absolutely get accused of that.
"That's nice, miss, but you still can't go in. I'm sure you know monsieur Neuvillette has many admirers, and we can't stop court simply because you wish to give him a gift."
Wow. You weren't even sure how to unpack that. You crossed your arms over your chest, not budging.
"I am his wife, here to bring him lunch. Do you want to explain to Neuvillette tomorrow about how you banned his wife from visiting him.?"
The man, you still haven't even gotten his name yet, isn't looking at you any more. He's looking behind you, a look of mild panic on his face.
Oh, this was going to be just like one of those soap operas back in Liyue, wasn't it? You knew without looking who was going to be there.
"Monsieur Neuvillette!" he said, giving the salute of Fontaine. "I was just telling this young woman that we do not allow visitors during court."
"That is true," Neuvillette says, you can almost hear a bit of smile in his voice. "However, I think I can make an exception for my wife. Thank you though, I will handle it from here."
The man scurries away before you can say anything. If he had a tail, it would have been between his legs.
"I think you scared him," you said, turning to your husband.
You ignore your racing heart at hearing Neuvillette call you his wife for the first time. You couldn't stop the smile from spreading on your face though.
"I think if anyone scared him between the two of us, my dear, it was you," he muses, and yes, it is amusement you can hear in his voice.
You two stand there, smiling at each other for a moment before you remember just why you made the journey out here.
"Oh, I brought you lunch." You place the small package in his hand. "I'm sure you're busy here and I wanted to make sure you were eating. I didn't know I needed a ticket to get inside. How did you know I was here?"
"Ah, Aeife told me you had arrive, and I suspected that you would encounter a problem."
He gestures to the side, and sure enough, the small Melusine is there. She gives you a wave before going back to skipping and offering help to those who need it
"She's sweet."
"She is," Neuvillette agrees. "I think most of them like you more than me."
"Who wouldn't like me?"
The smile Neuvillette gives you almost makes you blush, but you barely manage to get a hold of yourself.
"Yes, they'd be fools not to like you."
And now you were blushing. You gently swatted Neuvillette's arm, and only received a chuckle for your antics.
"Thank you," Neuvillette says, genuinely. "I must return now, but I appreciate the thought."
A tiny sliver of disappointment ran through you, but you pushed it down, nodding your head. "Of course, of course. Don't let me keep you. Off you go now."
You made a little shooing motion, the smile on your face letting him know you were simply teasing. But he didn't leave.
"Any time you wish to come and see me, there will always be a ticket waiting for you at the booth." He gestures to the sales booth, which very much looked closed, but you didn't say that. "I'll be sure to tell you the next time Lyney and Lynette do their show."
You visibly perked up, which gained you a small chuckle. You hadn't been shy about saying you wanted to see the show, though apparently it was impossible to find tickets to it.
"Thank you, I'll be sure to take you up on that."
You stood up on your tip toes, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. He seems surprised at the touch, but after a moment manages to compose himself, saying a quick goodbye before returning to work.
Aefie tugged at your skirt, a gentle motion almost as soft as a breeze. You knelt down to her level, allowing her to whisper in your ear.
"Thank you for making Neuvillette so happy."
-x-x-x-x-
You fell a lot, as a child, as all children do.
Scraped knees and bruised elbows. What is childhood without a few injuries? Without those precious moments that make them realize oh, sometimes life has pain.
The first time you heard of the concept of "falling in love" you had thought it was like that. Falling on the ground and bruising your knees.
Now though, you think it is something else. Like the feeling of falling into a warm bed at the end of a long day.
Neuvillette is already in bed tonight, laying on his side facing where you normally lay. You tip toe over to the bed, just in case he's already fallen asleep.
He hasn't though, and your eyes meet his vivid purple ones as you lay down, facing him as well.
"I thought you were asleep," you murmur. Tentatively, you reached for him, only to have him meet you halfway. Your fingers laced together with his.
"I was waiting for you."
Such a simple declaration is enough to make you blush. A year of marriage and he still managed to make you blush.
"I'm here now."
Something changes in his eyes, and he looks at you, so, so, fond. "You are here."
You both lay there, either unwilling or unable to fall asleep, feeling so close but somehow still so far away. It's one of the nights when the rain isn't falling. When you first came to Fontaine, it felt as though the rain never stopped, but now it's only occasionally.
"You never answered my question, you know."
Neuvillette frowns for a moment, thinking. You take pity on him before he can worry if he made you upset.
"I asked if you were kind," you murmur, gentle.
It felt like ages ago, talking to a stranger without knowing who they were. Neuvillette looks at you, waiting, knowing you weren't finished.
You had been so worried about everything. And though Sedene had told you, you didn't know if you could believe it or not.
"And what have you found?" Neuvillette asks. His voice is small, as though he's actually afraid of how you might answer.
You don't hesitate.
"You are," you whisper. You inch closer, knees brushing against his own. "You are so, so kind."
He kisses you. Lips sliding against your own, slotting there as though they were meant to be there. And desperately, with almost a full year of longing in you, you kiss back.
You're breathless by the time that he pulls back. He looks the same, and for the first time you see a small blush on his cheeks.
"I love you," he whispers, a reverent noise just for you.
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