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#''what is neuvillette's last name'' ITS NEUVILLETTE
strawchocoberry · 7 months
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‘CAUSE GIRL, YOU EARNED IT
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୨୧ featuring: zhongli, alhaitham, wriothesley, neuvillette, tartaglia x fem reader 
ଘ cw: smut, gangbang, intoxication kink, spanking, edging, pet names, oral sex, nipple play, handcuffs, fingering, choking, praise kink, degradation kink, rough sex, double penetration, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, breeding kink, creampie, dumbification
୨୧ synopsis: guilty of negligence 
ଘ wc: 4.4k
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It was a peaceful night, rain was falling outside, lullying nature into serene sleep. And here you are, fixing your lingerie that was practically nothing more than decoration on yourself. A bit of lipstick and you were done. You took a look at yourself in the mirror, pleased with how utterly gorgeous you looked. You couldn’t wait. It had been so long since you last saw him that you were ready to devour every piece of him the moment he stepped inside your house. You counted the seconds, trying to calm your excited heart, but it was in vain. Before the sound of your doorbell could even fathom to fully reach your ears, you were running to the door, putting on your silk robe to avoid becoming a spectacle for any potential passer-by. 
Five pairs of eyes were looking at you and you could only stand there and stare at them with widened, shocked eyes. They were equally if not more confused than you were. And it finally dawned on you; you had accidentally arranged to meet all of them on the same day, at the same time. Your mouth opened and closed, as you found no words to explain the situation to them. What were you supposed to say, anyway? You stepped aside, letting them come inside to the warmth of your house, feeling bad for letting them spend a few more minutes at the cold of your porch. 
They settled in your living room, averting their curious gazes back at you. You felt your cheeks blushing by this predicament you had bestowed upon yourself over your own carelessness. Their intense gazes that travelled upon your body, taking in every little detail like starved men, had you wrapping your arms around yourself, suddenly being too self-aware of the few garments you were wearing. 
“I-I’ll bring you some h-hot beverages to warm y-yourselves,” you suggested, making haste into the kitchen. 
And as you were panicking, trying to think of ways to deal with the situation at hand, the gentlemen in your living room became acquainted with those they weren’t. Zhongli, Wangsheng Funeral Parlour’s Consultant. Alhaitham, Sumeru’s Akademiya’s Scribe. Neuvillette, Fontaine’s Chief Justice. Wriothesley, Lord of the Fortress of Meropide. Tartaglia, the Eleventh of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. They didn’t really seem to mind your stalling in the kitchen. On the contrary, the five of them started talking amongst themselves, starting with Neuvillette, who was clearly surprised to meet Tartaglia once more. 
You couldn’t make up what they were talking about, but you could hear their lively chatter. Of course, none of them was mad or angered by the others’ presence. You were just good friends with all of them; good friends that occasionally fucked each other, but that’s just your way to keep your friendship interesting. They were, however, caught off guard by the rest, as were you, yet they seemed to have moved past it. 
You didn’t know what to do. How were you supposed to send them home when they had cleared their schedules for the night just to meet you? I’m so stupid! You mentally cursed at yourself, as you started preparing some tea. Getting them to leave was already a nearly impossible task, let alone now that they seemed to be getting along. You dreaded the thought of going back there. You dreaded the thought of having to explain how all of them showing up at your door tonight was an accident, a careless mistake you made and failed to realise till they had all arrived. 
As the tea was being prepared, you went through your cupboards, taking out various snacks to go along with the tea. You were almost moving like a robot that needed its joints to be greased. You could even hear the faint sound of screeching each move of yours made. It’s going to be alright, you attempted to calm yourself down. They’ll just have some tea and then they’ll leave… Or at least that’s what you wanted to happen. I won’t have to explain how I messed up our meeting schedule tonight… Wishful thoughts that barely managed to help you. 
Soon enough, you returned to the living room, bringing them the tea and snacks. To say that you felt as awkward as one could feel at the moment was an understatement. And yet, the men in your presence paid no attention to it, as they helped themselves with a cup of tea, continuing their conversation. You were just sitting on an armchair, watching them converse as if they had been called to a tea party from the start, not that silly little you had by accident invited them all over. 
“And here I was thinking that this was all just a mistake on your part,” you heard Alhaitham say a little louder in order to catch your attention. 
Pulled out of your thoughts, you turned to look at him, tilting your head in confusion as to what he meant. You noticed his heavier breathing, the way he seemed as if his body was on fire. He appeared calm, but oh that boner of his told another story. A quick look around and you saw the rest of them being in a similar state. Your eyes fell on the chocolate bites among the other snacks. Fuck— 
“Come here.” 
You took a moment to look at Neuvillette. Even in this state of arousal, he spoke in that authoritative voice of his, the one he always uses when commanding order in the courtroom. You gulped and hesitantly walked towards him. With a swift move of his, you found yourself sitting on his lap, the Chief Justice already untying your robe. 
“We all got the impression that perhaps this was just a… Misunderstanding.” He caressed your cheek, looking at you fondly, despite the serious tone of his voice. “Did you perhaps plan this in advance? Bringing us here, then giving us chocolate laced with an aphrodisiac?” 
“Should I perhaps arrest you now, little kitten?” Wriothesley whispered in your ear, biting your earlobe right after. 
“I suggest she receives punishment for her criminal actions.” Tartaglia was now standing in front of you, smirking, as he held a piece of chocolate to your lips. 
“B-But I-I didn’t do it on purpose—” 
“Negligence is still a crime, love.” Neuvillette kissed your cheek. “And even if we were to believe your claims, the evidence works against you.” His hand slipped down your open robe, rubbing your folds. “Wearing such revealing lingerie and getting wet at the mere sight of us being aroused… Tsk tsk tsk.” He shook his head. “You’re as guilty as you can be, love.” 
Tartaglia slipped the chocolate into your mouth, looking at you as you munched on it and swallowed it. He smirked, caressing your chin softly, before crushing his lips on yours, kissing you impatiently, hungrily, desperately. Alhaitham and Zhongli approached you as well, ridding you of the only garments you were wearing, leaving you completely naked under their ravenous gazes. They were trying their best to keep themselves in control and not rip you apart; their eyes betrayed it. 
It didn’t take long for the aphrodisiac to kick in your system nor for the carnal desire to overtake your body. You were lying on Neuvillette’s chest, squirming and moaning and meowing, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. His left hand was holding your arms behind your back, whilst his right one was tending to your clit, his fingers rubbing your sensitive bud with utmost expertise. Wriothesley was kneeling in-between your legs, holding them open with his strong arms, as he feasted upon your delectable cunt, tasting your arousal and letting out low growls. 
On your left side was Zhongli and on your right was Alhaitham. They were leaving kisses all over your exposed body, massaging your breasts with one hand and pressing you down with the other. Their mouths were tending to your nipples, sucking on them as they watched you writhe in pleasure by all those men paying attention to you. Tartaglia emerged from behind the couch, caressing your cheek and averting your gaze to him. Leaning down, he buried himself in the crook of your neck, kissing and licking and biting you all over. Your body arched at their touch, your moans only urging them further. 
Wriothesley let out a guttural growl, licking every drop of your arousal. He could barely keep your spasming body still, as you moaned out in pure ecstasy from your orgasm. All of them smirked, feeling you convulsing, looking like you’ve just entered heaven. Neuvillette slapped your cunt, earning a whimpering moan from you. 
“Did you like it that much, love?” Neuvillette asked you. 
“Of course she did, right, kitten?” Wriothesley smirked, licking over your cunt. 
“Her moans confirm that, don’t they, dear?” Zhongli kissed your neck. 
“Oh, poor baby, you aren’t tired yet, hm?” Alhaitham cooed in your neck, gently biting down over one of Tartaglia’s bites. 
“Oh no, no! We can’t have you getting tired so early, darling.” Tartaglia kissed your lips. “The fun’s just starting.”
You were lost in your sweet haze for a moment, watching them change their positions. Neuvillette pushed himself up, sitting now on the couch, rather than lying. Alhaitham caught your hands and pulled you forward. Your bare cunt was sitting oh so perfectly on the Chief Justice’s clothed crotch, making him let out a low moan, as your arousal was drenching him. You hissed, looking down at Wriothesley who bit your tit, folding tightly the other in his fist. Alhaitham caught your chin, averting your attention back to the three men standing before you. 
You watched them get undressed, their cocks springing free from the constraints of their pants, hard and desperate for attention. Tartaglia and Zhongli took your hands, placing them on their shafts, moving them along their lengths, before allowing you to continue on your own. Alhaitham stroked his cock, bringing it to your lips. He smirked as you obediently opened your mouth and took him in, your lips wrapping perfectly around his girth, a low groan leaving his lips. 
“That’s it, baby,” Alhaitham moaned, his head falling back. 
“So desperate,” Tartaglia mocked, watching how you eagerly moved your head up and down, taking as much of the Scribe’s cock in your mouth as you could. The Harbinger let out a moanful groan the next moment, as you stroked his cock and used your thumb to smear the tip with his cum. 
“If you wished for all of us, dear, you should have said so sooner,” Zhongli breathed, catching your hair in a nice ponytail. 
The three of them took turns having you please them with either your skilled hands or your warm mouth. First was Alhaitham, who let you suck him off at your own pace, relishing the cute gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him. He mumbled a couple curses under his breath, while he kept telling you how good you looked with his cock in your mouth, how good you made him feel. His whole body tensed, his grip on his waist tightened, as he let out a moan, cumming in your mouth. 
“Good girl,” Alhaitham praised, kissing your lips tenderly, before standing up. 
Zhongli was the one to occupy your mouth next. Even after all the times you’ve had sex with him, your mouth was still not accustomed enough with his girthy cock. You choked on his shaft, tears welling up and falling from your eyes in streams. The former Geo Archon cupped your cheek gently, wiping away your tears with his thumb. He looked at you affectionately, encouraging you to take your time. He groaned and grunted, feeling your tongue swirl over and over again over that one specific vein, having him lose his mind and coming undone. 
“Perfect as always, dear,” Zhongli whispered in your ear. 
And last but definitely not least, it was Tartaglia’s turn. You braced yourself, knowing him all too well to be certain that he wasn’t going to be as gentle as the two before him. He allowed you a moment to tend to him on your own, before kneading your hair in a ponytail and forcing you on him, his cock hitting the back of your throat. New tears welled up in your eyes. You looked up at him, noticing how big his smirk grew, as he continued fucking your mouth. 
“You’re such a pretty little whore, darling,” Tartaglia moaned. 
Your body jolted at the sudden smack that Neuvillette landed on your ass, gently caressing the spot right after. Wriothesley spanked you as well, making you moan on Tartaglia’s cock that was ruthlessly thrusting into your mouth. Neuvillette held your body in place, his grip almost bruisingly tight, whilst he grinded his hips against your drenched cunt, earning more muffled moans from you. 
“Look at you being all blushed, love,” Neuvillette cooed in your ear, landing another hard smack on your reddened by now ass. 
“I bet you’re feeling lonely down here.” Wriothesley smirked at you, raising his head from your titties, his hand slipping down and rubbing your folds in-between your bare cunt and Neuvillette’s clothed crotch. 
“Oh fuck—” Tartaglia reached his limit, unleashing his hot seed in your mouth, as his head fell back. He kept your head in place, his cock still deeply buried in your throat, until you had swallowed everything. 
Pulling out, he left you gasping for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly in your attempt to regulate your stolen breath. Tartaglia caught your chin and pulled you to your feet, crushing his lips on yours. Wriothesley came behind you, biting your nape and smirking as you moaned. He grabbed your hands and handcuffed them behind your back. He smacked your ass once more, then undressed and assumed a seat next to Neuvillette who had also discarded his clothes. You felt Alhaitham’s arms wrapping around your body from behind, him leaving marks all over your shoulder and nape. 
Alhaitham caught your hair and pulled you away from Tartaglia, biting your earlobe as you whined. He turned you to face the Fontainian duo, bending you over. Neuvillette and Wrothesley slapped their hardened cocks on your cheeks, looking at you with the authority you’d expect stemming from their positions as Chief Justice and Lord of the Fortress of Meropide. You choked back a scream, feeling Alhaitham suddenly penetrating you from behind. You turned over your shoulder to look at him for just a moment, only for Wriothesley to grab your chin and avert your attention back to them. 
“Get to work, kitten,” he barked, his sharp canines visible through his smirk. 
“Or are you perchance planning on leaving us in this torturous state?” Neuvillette asked you, the straining of his hard cock evident on his face. 
And whilst the Scribe was obliterating your cunt, Tartaglia and Zhongli were stroking themselves, looking at you getting fucked before them like the little slut you were. They landed a few slaps on your ass and grabbed your titties harshly, while you started tending to Neuvillette, licking up a few strides on his shaft. Your tongue swirled around the tip of his thick cock, sucking it in your mouth. His eyes closed for a moment, revering in the sensation of you slowly taking all of him in your mouth. You gagged, trying to accommodate him in your tight throat. But Neuvillette was already long lost in pure ecstasy, head thrown back and breathy whimpers escaping his lips. 
You whined as you felt Alhaitham pull out of your cunt, your muffled sound sending vibrations on his cock. You were so close to feeling that euphoric rush course through your veins, only for him to deny it. You attempted to release Neuvillette and complain about Alhaitham’s unacceptable behaviour, only for Wriothesley to force your head down, tears falling from your eyes, as his action caused Neuvillette to sharply hit the back of your throat. 
“Don’t stop now, kitten. Don’t tease him like that, not when he’s so close to cumming.” Wriothesley gently rocked your head, helping you ease up and continue your work. “You never know. He might even accuse you of disrespecting him. And oh my, it’s a serious crime to disrespect the Chief Justice. Once sentenced, you’ll be sent to the Fortress of Meropide.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you, kitten.” 
“Don’t— Don’t speak nonsense, Wriothesley,” Neuvillette breathed heavily. 
Alhaitham only smirked, seeing you at Wriothesley’s mercy. He slapped your dripping cunt once, licking your arousal off his fingertips, while his ears feasted on your muffled moans. Tartaglia leant over your bent form, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder, as his fingers rubbed your drenched folds, laughing devilishly at the slight trembling of your legs. He slipped his fingers inside your tight cunt, thrusting them roughly. He relished the image of your convulsing body, your cunt coating his fingers with your slick. And yet he sadistically stopped right before your impending release.  
Tartaglia removed his fingers momentarily, before burying his cock in your velvet walls. He held onto your waist, slamming your hips on him, moaning in pleasure as he ripped your body in half. Neuvillette tensed in your mouth, painting every inch of your throat with his sweet cum. He caressed your hair softly, smiling lovingly at you, his eyes glued to your tear-stained face with his cock still in your mouth. Wriothesley finally let go of your head, allowing you to pull back and catch your breath. 
“Are you having fun, kitten?” he asked, gently caressing your cheek. 
“Mmmm…” You nodded. “T-This is… So much better than I could… Ever imagine…” You smiled. “Ah, wait— No!” you whined. “Tartaglia, please—” you cried. 
So close, yet so far away. The Harbinger pulled out of your drenched folds, leaving you just as unsatisfied as Alhaitham had. Your body was burning with a carnal urge for release, yet they didn’t seem to be willing to give it to you. You watched Zhongli lean over you, massaging your breasts and kissing a tear away from your cheek. 
“Zhongli… Please…” you begged him. 
He refrained from replying to you. Zhongli rubbed the tip of his cock on your soaked folds, coating it in your slick, before thrusting into your cunt that immediately tightened around him, desperate to reach that sweet high. Contrary to the other two, the Geo Archon switched to a slower pace, even though his thrusts remained as rock solid hard as ever. The room was filled with your slutty moans, as well as the sounds of Zhongli forcefully smashing his hips on yours, abusing and stretching your cunt in a way that sent you over to cloud nine. 
Wriothesley grabbed your chin, turning you to face him. He slipped his thumb in your mouth, watching you suck on it ever so willingly. “Stick your tongue out,” he ordered and you obeyed without a second thought, feeling too fucked out to raise any objections. He slapped his hardened cock on your tongue a few times, before sliding it all in. He grabbed your hair and guided your movements, growling in utter bliss at the magic of your tongue. He was struggling not to thrust up. You knew, because his grip on your hair only tightened. Ultimately, though, Wriothesley grew too desperate for release, pounding up straight to your throat, feeling you gag around him, before he unleashed his seed in your mouth. 
You thought that this time, this time for sure, you were going to experience that blissful feeling that had your mind go blank. You had only yourself to blame for getting your hopes high, as you were disappointed by Zhongli pulling out of you when your orgasm was just around the corner. You were whining and complaining and they were all just watching you amused, barely able to keep themselves from destroying you. 
Zhongli lifted you in his arms, carrying you to the armchair you were previously sitting on. He sat down with you on his lap. He kissed your lips, holding your head in place, feeling you shift on his lap. Alhaitham had come, standing behind you, holding one of your legs open, Zhongli holding the other. The Scribe’s fingers thrusted into your drenched cunt, the squelching sounds filling the room. The other three watched you intently squirm and convulse over the Geo Archon’s body, as your much awaited orgasm was here at last. 
Alhaitham wrapped his hand on your neck, turning you to him, as he leant down to lazily kiss your lips. Zhongli aligned his cock with your cunt and thrusted in. You suddenly broke the kiss, whimpering, seeing Tartaglia penetrate your cunt as well, rubbing against Zhongli. You were struggling to accommodate them both in your tight cunt, whimpering and crying and writhing all over Zhongli’s body. Alhaitham kissed you again, running his fingers soothingly along your trembling body. Your mind was slowly fucked out, every single thought fading in the abyss, but from the single one focusing on the two of them pounding into you. 
“Mmmm… Yes! Yes!” you moaned. “Oh, fuck!” 
“What a naughty little girlie~” Tartaglia cooed, smirking. 
Neuvillette and Wriothesley were standing on either side of you, stroking their cocks, massaging or slapping your titties from time to time and rubbing your clit, earning some high pitched moans and screams from you. 
“Please, don’t stop!” you begged, once more on the edge of another release. “Oh Archons, please, don’t stop!” 
And you were so thankful that they didn’t. Your cunt tightened around them, convulsing around their throbbing cocks, your slick coating them. They soon followed after you, cumming into your velvet walls, your mixed arousals dripping down your thighs. Mere seconds later, your body was covered in the cum of the other three men, painting over the marks they had already left all over you. 
They all took a moment to just glance and be mesmerised and bewitched by your beauty. Your makeup was ruined, yet you looked just as breathtakingly pretty as ever. Your lipstick was smudged and there were lipstick stains in every part your lips had touched on their bodies. Your hair was dishevelled and drenched in sweat, just like your body. And oh fuck… The sight of your cunt clenching around Tartaglia’s and Zhongli’s cocks, stuffed to the brim with cum that slipped out and down your thighs was enough to get them all hard all over again. 
Tartaglia slowly pulled out, strings of cum glistening on his cock, whilst Zhongli remained deeply sheathed in your cunt. You were resting your head on his shoulder, watching them drunk-dazed change positions. Neuvillette positioned himself in-between your legs, which were held open by Wriothesley and Alhaitham. Tartaglia was standing behind you, choking your neck and sliding two of his fingers into your mouth, as he nibbled down your earlobe. Your head pressed hard against Zhongli’s shoulder, your back arching, as Neuvillette dived into your sensitive cunt as carefully as ever. 
Tartaglia was choking back your moans, your eyes glued to the man in front of you whose cock was drilling into you, ripping you in half. Neuvillette leant over you, kissing your lips, as both he and Zhongli continued fucking your slutty hole that creamed harder and harder all over them. There was not a single thought in your mind. You were a bubbling little mess, moaning and whimpering and begging “mmm, more, more!” and crying “oh fuck, it feels so good”. They were all looking at you, smirking at the little whore you were for them. And oh they adored it. 
Your moans and whimpers and pleads and cries stirred something within the two men who were quite literally fucking you dumb. You screamed in pure bliss, Zhongli and Neuvillette pounding now into you as if their lives depended on it; as if the harder they thrusted, the longer their satisfaction would be prolonged. If they were honest, you just drove them mad, sending them over the edge of insanity with those sounds you made, forcing them to make haste into chasing after the euphoric feeling of cumming into those perfect, pulsating walls of yours. Your lips parted to moan thank yous, as the two of them poured their seed deep in your cunt. 
This time, you were not allowed not even a second of respite. Neuvillette carefully picked you up from Zhongli’s lap. He was holding you tenderly in his arms, contrary to the desperate lust that gleamed in his eyes. Your body jolted, feeling Wriothesley’s soft lips kiss the nape of your neck. He took your handcuffs off, caressing your arms and peppering your shoulder with kisses. Neuvillette took your hands and wrapped them around his neck, his hands travelling down to your waist.
“Hold on tightly, love.” 
Before you could even understand what he meant, you yelped surprised, as Neuvillette and Wriothesley lifted you in their arms. Your grip around his neck tightened, making him chuckle. You felt them both slowly penetrating your cunt, a low whimper escaping your lips, as your walls engulfed them in a tight hug. 
“Even after being fucked all these times, your cunt is still greedy for more.” Wriothesley bit your neck. “What a little whore you are, my kitten.” 
“Mmmm~” you meowed, unable to form a single sentence. 
They ravaged your cunt, spilling out all the cum that had been stuffed in it. Their grips on your body were bruisingly tight, coming in complete contrast with the softness of their lips that burnt you fiercely wherever they touched. Wriothesley was biting all over your neck, sadistically wanting to draw out those gorgeous screams of yours that were music to his ears, making him harder and harder. 
“You’re doing so well, love,” Neuvillette praised with that moaning voice of his. “Taking us both so well… Such a good girl…”
“Mmmm, yeah…” Wriothesley agreed. “Such a good slut…”
You were lost between Neuvillette’s praises and Wriothesley’s degradation. You caught a glimpse of the other three men who were watching you with utmost concentration, the three of you having captured their full attention, them jerking themselves off at the show you provided. Wriothesley choked your neck, turning you to look at Neuvillette, who crushed his lips on yours. You were tightening and pulsing around them, urging them to obliterate your greedy little cunt like never before. And you had no objection to that. 
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© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work
7K notes · View notes
earthtooz · 7 months
Note
Wrio the slay calling reading clingy so reader sleeps on couch …😊 thx
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x : DISTANCE :*+゚
in which: you overhear wriothesley calling your affection too much, so you respect his wishes and give him some space. yet, why does he not seem like it?
warnings: 5.6k words (why did it get so long), hurt/comfort, gn!reader and wriothesley are married, pet names, no spoilers but set in canon, misunderstandings and miscommunication af, slowburn??, you might tug your hair out at some parts lol sorry, fluff with angst but happy ending, it gets emotional.
a/n: okay this was definitely not my favourite piece, i was experimenting with writing styles and writing in an omnipresent pov... so sorry if it feels clunky at some bits. overall, i'm pretty happy! also sorry for not sticking to the original prompt
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Perhaps today was a bad time, you think as you leave the Fortress of Meropide, anxiety churning in your stomach and doubt weighing on your mind. Despite Fontaine’s sunrays shining brightly upon you, you feel anything but warm.  
What started as a visit to your husband with kind, wholesome intentions of delivering some lunch to him on your day off ended with a visit that left you riddled with questions. Coming at a time when he was in a meeting nearing its end, you didn’t even get the chance to speak to him, yet his words rattled around your head, replaying like a broken disc. 
“How are you and your spouse?” A rich voice echoes from his office, door slightly ajar signifying that whatever discussion was happening within was coming to an end.
“Y/n and I? We’re amazing, thank you,” Wriothesley answers. “I’m always happiest whenever I’m with Y/n.” 
The company, who you have realised is Monsieur Neuvillette, responds. “That’s good to hear.”
“Although, Y/n has been quite… affectionate recently, to the point that it’s borderlining too much-”
The conversation is drowned out by a ring of an alarm on Wriothesley’s desk and the atmosphere from his office suddenly grows in tension. The voice of the two men turn from relaxed to alarmed in a matter of seconds, and that is when you decide it is probably time to take your leave, lest you intrude on whatever emergency has happened.
Dropping the lunch you brought for Wriothesley at reception, even the receptionist was confused by how quick your visit was since they typically lasted for an hour- even longer since Wriothesley likes to push the amount of time he gets with you. They don’t question it, though, merely nodding in understanding when you tell them to drop it off for him on your behalf.
Has Wriothesley always thought of your affection as too much? If it was overwhelming him, why didn’t he tell you? And why Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, of all people? You understood the nature of their relationship- how they both tend to confine in each other with whatever they are troubled by, but why couldn’t your husband come to you about this directly? You made an oath on your wedding day to be fully honest with each other and to never hide anything. Where did that promise go?
Arriving home with a heavy heart, you immediately flop onto the couch, arm covering your eyes as tears sting the corners of your eyes. Perhaps it’s time you lessen your displays of physical affection before you drive the love of your life away.
Wriothesley, looking down at the contents of your boxed lunch, feels his heart warm in his chest at your display of care. How fortunate he is to have someone like you, he thinks before eating, satisfying his hungry stomach that has been aching for food since half an hour ago. He wonders why you didn’t see him personally and dropped it off instead, he would have liked to eat with you beside him.  
Whatever the reason, he’ll make sure to drop by your favourite bakery to purchase some conch madeleines as a thank you. 
When he returns home later in the evening, you’re asleep on the couch, curled up with only a book on your chest to protect you from the chilly air seeping into the house. Wriothesley quickly lays his coat over you, bookmarking the page you were at before retreating to change into more relaxing clothes. You still have not roused when he returns and as much as it pains him to disturb you, he doesn’t want you napping too late lest it disturbs your sleep schedule.
“Y/n?” He gently shakes you. Slowly, you come to wakefulness, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at your husband.
“Wriothesley? You’re home?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes whilst slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”
“Nearing six in the evening.”
“Oh my! I didn’t mean to sleep that long! I’ll go get dinner ready, you should rest, you must have had a long day-”
Silencing you with a warm kiss to your forehead, you don’t melt into it like you usually would, his words from earlier slamming back into you like a brick. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, merely brushing your hair away from your forehead.
“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook,” Wriothesley offers, grabbing something he left on the table behind him. “Have some madeleines I bought for you whilst you wait.”
He places a bag of the baked goods in your hands and you smile at him, lips chapped and eyes still drowsy, yet Wriothesley thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever exist. 
“Thank you,” you murmur.
“I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” The dark-haired leaves you with another kiss to your temple before turning around to go into the kitchen. However, you stop him with a tug on his wrist which you drop almost immediately when he turns around, acting as if his skin was an open flame that licked you. 
“Darling, you have a sticker on your arm.” You reach up to grab the piece of adhesive, ripping it off him in one smooth motion. 
“Those melusines,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For how much Wriothesley scolds them, he cannot bring himself to actually get mad at them, letting the little creatures play pranks instead of reprimanding them. 
“I’m surprised they keep getting by you. Maybe you need to sharpen your instincts.”
“Quiet, you,” there’s no bite to his words.
“They put a little crab on you,” you giggle. “Must be going through an ocean-themed sticker book. You had a little shell on you yesterday.”
“I did? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I find it funny.” 
He sits down beside you, dinner momentarily forgotten. “Do you now?” The dark-haired murmurs. “Turns out my own spouse is against me also.”
“If it brings me amusement, why not let the melusines play their pranks a little longer?”
“You are an awful influence,” Wriothesley winds his arms around your torso, pushing you down into the pillows of the couch. There, you almost sink into him, lured by the warmth of his embrace, but the memory of what you overheard sinks into your gut like an icicle, and your smile fades.
You pat his shoulders in surrender. “Shouldn’t you be working on dinner, dear? It’s already quite late.” You pray he doesn’t notice the way you have suddenly altered the mood, drying the playful atmosphere.
If he does notice, he doesn’t comment on it, getting up with a groan before retreating into the kitchen. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
There’s a whistle from the doorway to your bedroom, low and appreciative, and the culprit is no one other than Wriothesley. He walks towards you, draping himself over your figure sat in front of the mirror. “Where are you going tonight?”
“Clorinde and I are going to dinner together,” you tell him nonchalantly, as if all of his weight wasn’t on your shoulders right now. 
He pouts. “When will you be home?”
“Not too late, that’s for sure. We’re meeting at the other side of the Court of Fontaine, though.”
“An evening without my love, whatever shall I do?”
“You’ll live,” you smile before raising a necklace up to him. “Help me put this on?”
With a huff, he raises himself off your back and gently takes the jewellery from your hands, careful with the jewels that adorn it. His cold touch grazes against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine as he successfully clasps it together. When you meet his gaze in the mirror, it’s full of adoration and admiration, and you have to busy yourself with your hair lest it flusters you too much. 
Standing up, you swiftly walk out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Wriothesley trails behind you without much thought. “I’ll get going now before I’m too late.”
“Do you need me to accompany you there?” 
“It’s alright, thank you for offering.” Disappointment floods him like an ocean as he watches you put on your shoes. With one final fidget of your clothes, you deem yourself presentable and turn to him. “See you tonight, darling-”
“-Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?” Your eyes widen in alarm as you begin frantically patting yourself down. “I brought my wallet, keys? They’re here, what am I forgetting?”
Wriothesley pretends like your cluelessness doesn’t hurt more than it actually does. He taps his cheek. “A kiss.”
“Oh, of course. How could I be so careless?” you laugh, the corners of your eyes scrunching with delight. Wriothesley has a remark resting on the tip of his tongue but it quickly dies when you step forward, anchoring your hand on his chin before you press a kiss to his cheek; to both cheeks for good measure. 
“Love you,” you murmur when parting. 
The desire to keep you home is a burning one, and pleads of ‘stay’ threaten to spill from his mouth. There is nothing more he wants than to be in your arms, to cling to you until the weekend is over in the blink of an eye, but you are your own person, and no matter how needy he is, Wriothesley should not stand in the way of your fun. 
“I love you more,” he sighs, holding open the front door for you. “Be back soon.”
“I’ll try. Bye dear!” You blow him a kiss before walking out of your garden.  
He watches you leave with a heart heavy with longing, closing the front door once you’re out of sight and tries to sigh the feeling of emptiness away. 
Later that night, Wriothesley greets you the second he hears the front door being unlocked, urgent strides allowing him to turn the corner just as you open the door, looking as pristine as you did when you left. There’s a small, tired smile on your face, but you look happy, blissful expression brightening when you see him. 
“Hello, love,” you say, slipping your shoes off.
“Welcome back,” he says, embracing you with one, muscular arm whilst pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands unusually fly up to hold his shoulders and Wriothesley thinks he’s imagining the way you push him slightly, as if trying to get him out of your personal space. Yet your grasp on him was so tight, creating temporary divots in his skin that he doesn’t really know what you’re trying to do.
Why are you trying to push him away in the first place? The thought of you not wanting him near is upsetting enough to make him unknowingly tighten his grip around you, causing you to stumble into him from the momentum. 
You look up at him, shocked whilst he gazes down at you with a storm of terror gathering in his eyes. For the first time since the two of you got married all those years ago, a rift forms.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Whatever occurred that night isn’t a topic of conversation, ever. The two of you retreated to bed after a quick conversation of how your evenings were before devolving into other topics, like what the week ahead had in store, restaurants you two should visit sometime, new boutiques and bakeries you’ve been hoping to explore- little chats that hold more meaning as the days roll by.
During it all, there was an undeniable heaviness to the conversation that made it slightly uncomfortable. Wriothesley cannot remove the memory of how you tried to push him away and you cannot forget the shocked look in his eyes. The more you picture it, the guiltier you feel, heart sinking in your chest.
You thought that it was what Wriothesley wanted: more space from you, an opportunity to breathe without you overwhelming his space.
So why do you feel so bad about respecting his wishes?
“What a lovely view!” You exclaim excitedly, running toward a patch on the grass that sits a few metres away from a nearby beach, the sound of waves meeting shore a soothing lullaby and a testament to how calm the day is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you’re out on a picnic with the love of your life.
“Here’s a nice spot to set up, what do you think, Wriothesley?” You ask.
“Sounds amazing, darling,” he responds, setting down the picnic basket when you’ve laid out the blanket. You sit down with an unglamorous huff, leaning back onto your hands to let the morning sun soak into your features.
Morning picnics were one of yours and Wriothesley’s favourite date ideas. The best time to be together was before the sun would rise to its highest peak, bearing hot sunrays that make everything uncomfortable for everyone. Fontaine’s sun is never merciful either, which is why the nation is perfect for diving and all other water-related activities, but when you are simply walking around, it becomes rather suffocating.
The Fortress of Meropide’s administrator takes a seat beside you and you indulge by resting your head on his shoulder, hoping that he isn’t uncomfortable under your touch. The dark-haired hasn’t shaken you off yet, so you keep resting against him.
“How did you discover this place?” You ask.
“Siora told me of it, said that a passenger on the aquabus was talking to her about it. She thought that it sounded like a delightful place to take you to,” he answers and you can’t help but smile, fiddling with your fingers.
Melusines and their wholesome ways. You’ll find a way to thank Siora later. “How kind of her and how fortunate for us.”
“I take it you like it here then?”
“I love it,” you tuck your legs closer to your chest and Wriothesley leans back on his arms as well, letting your hands rest beside each other as the sea continues to crash on the shore before you. There are seals resting nearby too, ships pass by here and there, and seagulls stop near the two of you before flying away, but the only thing that matters to Wriothesley is you leaning on his shoulder.
Sharing with him the breakfast sandwiches you packed, no words are exchanged, merely the sound of waves crashing against the shore occupy the tranquil silence. It’s not until a few minutes later that Wriothesley speaks. 
“Will you be visiting me at the office today?” He asks.
You tear your gaze away from the horizon. “Perhaps. Do you want me to?”
“Would I really be asking if I didn’t?”
“Please, forego the sass, your grace,” you snort and he rolls his eyes, an affectionate smile pulling on his lips. 
“Seriously though, I would like you to. You know how dreary and boring weekends at the prison get, would be much better having you there.”
“Are you trying to butter me up?”
“Is it working?” 
“Maybe,” you mutter, grinning. “Would you like me to bring lunch with me or shall we go find a place to eat?”
“How about takeout? Hey wait, now that I think about it, why didn’t you stay the other day when you brought lunch for me? I would have much rather seen your pretty face than the receptionist’s.”
You ignore the butterflies blooming in your stomach because of his compliment. “An emergency happened just as I reached there. I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it, so I left.”
Confusion shines in his eyes, his expression giving away the cogwork ticking in his brain as he tries to pinpoint what emergency you could be referring to. When the pieces click, his eyes widen a little. “I see. You did the right thing, my love,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. 
“I’ll visit you today,” you whisper, toying with the hem of your clothes as you wait for his response. 
“Amazing. I’m looking forward to it, then”
You stay true to your word, walking down the path you recognise like the back of your hand. The guards need not think twice about welcoming you in, guiding you straight in the direction of Wriothesley’s office. 
Since being with him, you’ve grown less and less afraid of how daunting the Fortress can feel, adapting to the chill knowing that there is someone in there who will set himself ablaze to keep you warm. Yet, today you walk in with apprehension clasped around your ankles, threatening to pull you under with each step. 
It’s ridiculous, you know Wriothesley would never turn you away or shun you, but the mind is the worst enemy and yours can’t stop replaying the conversation you overheard weeks ago. You know Wriothesley could open those heavy doors of his and greet you with something more grim than loving and cast you aside, and you have to hold your breath when the guards knock on your behalf.
Your heart skips a beat when they push open the doors, revealing your husband crouched over his desk, hands mussed in his hair to keep them out of his eyes. He looks up at you and the way a smile manifests on his features is akin to that of fire melting ice, fatigue dissipating as you step inside his office.  
“Hello, dear,” you greet, tone soft and controlled, unlike the thrashing of your gut.
“Hi,” he stands up and takes great strides towards you. Naturally, you open your arms for him; unnaturally, you merely hug him instead of greeting him with a kiss. Wriothesley keeps you locked in his arms as he digs his nose into your neck and you feel the way his eyes flutter close against your skin.
“Long day?”
“Draining too,” he murmurs. 
“Oh dear, we cannot have your grace tired, whatever shall we do!” You gasp overdramatically, clearly poking fun at him because you are perhaps one of the only people who could do so in this entire building. 
The dark-haired accepts it and doesn’t bother to correct your use of formalities. Instead, he retracts his head out of your neck to look at you with hopeful eyes instead. “You could give me a kiss.” 
“Did you do anything today to earn it?”
“I need to earn my kisses now?”
“You should shut up sometimes,” you murmur before placing your hands along his jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He smiles against you, biting back a quip when his hand comes to the base of your neck, holding you against him. You can tell he needed the proximity, judging by his little exhale and the way his shoulders slouch, so you let him take his time and ignore the nagging in your heart.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Wriothesley is losing his mind. He has been since you left the Fortress of Meropide, and was left to freeze in the ache of your lack of affection. A goodbye kiss is customary between you two and when you didn’t give him one before leaving, it felt like a slap to the face. He would have much rather you just slapped him, actually, so what gives? 
You’re not rejecting his advances, but you’re not explicitly initiating anything either. Does that mean he should back off, too? Did he do something to upset you, and if so, when? All this thinking and speculating is making him feel like a pathetic headless chicken who can’t even talk to his spouse-
“-Wait!” You exclaim, just as he was about to grab the knob to the front entrance and step out. Instead, Wriothesley turns around to be greeted by the sigh of you frantically scrambling to him, and his heart can’t help but come alive, silencing his thoughts.
Stopping to a slide before him, he can’t hold back a soft grin. Despite just wrangling out of the claws of sleep, you’re so breathtaking, delicate in the mornings when no one else is around but him. The dark-haired is grateful that only he is able to witness you like this, that you trust him with this vulnerable side of you.
You don’t meet his gaze, eyes pinned to his chest instead. “Your tie is crooked,” you murmur hands reaching out before he even gets a chance to look down. “Let me help you.”
How can he deny such a kind request of yours? You’re gentle with him, undoing his knot and weaving it together until it looks proper, but Wriothesley couldn’t care what his tie looks like. You could be making a total fool of him and he wouldn’t care, too entranced by your glow to tear his eyes away from you. There’s a little scrunch in your forehead as you concentrate, mouth slightly parted and you’re not oblivious to his gaze either, too familiar with the intensity of it to get shy. 
Finally satisfied with your work, you let go, patting his shoulders and smoothing out any wrinkles in his garment. “There. All done.” 
“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs. 
Wriothesley is expecting a kiss from you, waits for the moment that you’ll rise onto your toes and place a peck on his lips to fill him with some energy for the day. He waits for the familiar feeling of your lips pressing against his, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that your touch always manages to ignite.
Except it never comes, and it hurts most to confess that some part of him preempted this. You step away from him without another word, or kiss, and his heart burns at your retraction, unease fluttering the lining of his stomach when you turn around to retreat into the living room. Wriothesley moves without thinking, a hand coming up to your waist to stop your steps as he forcefully pulls you back to him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one far more intense than the ones you usually give this early in the morning. 
You notice the desperation that bleeds from him; a certain fervour uncharacteristic in situations of morning domesticity. 
There’s a bright glimmer of surprise in your eyes when he pulls away, as if he had kissed away all your fatigue and shocked wakefulness into you. 
“Have a good day at work,” you murmur, barely able to choke the words out. 
“I will,” he replies, opening the door. You stay and watch him go, still trying to recover your breath over his passionate display of affection. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The day his racing thoughts get to him is the eighth day of this strange treatment of yours. At this point, he’s become insatiable, barely able to hold it together as you remain in the centre of his world. He wants your affection again, he wants your displays of love, he wants you near him so badly that it’s driving him up the walls of the Fortress. 
It’s irrational for him, a grown man, to skirt around his problems as if he was a teenager. For some reason, Wriothesley has no issue locking up and containing some of Fontaine’s most dangerous criminals, yet when it comes to you, he becomes a lovesick fool who craves everything his partner can give. 
You still are not initiating any displays of affection, keeping to yourself unless it is him acting first. 
But after being locked in his own study for hours, unable to distract himself from you when he was really meant to be reading some new court documents from Neuvillette, he snaps. Pushing his chair out with more force than necessary, he searches for you in the living room, where you are curled up in the corner, reading.
“Is everything alright?” Wriothesley’s interruption shocks you, and you jolt your head up to meet his gaze. 
You are met with the sight of him leaned against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Why wouldn’t they be?” You ask, not letting your gaze linger for too long on his arms before sitting up just a little straighter.
“Dunno. Just double checking.”
“Okay,” you hum softly, nodding. “Are you alright?”
“Me?” How could you switch this up on him so quickly?
“Yeah.”
“Fine, amazing, just dandy.” 
You raise an eyebrow at your husband, not truly believing him but you decide it’s best not to press on. “Alright… but if anything is wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me.” You go back to your book and your hair falls perfectly in front of your face to hide it from him.
Wriothesley shifts his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find the words to speak up and ask why you were acting so weird. It’d been two hours and twenty-four minutes (and counting) since you last saw him when he disappeared into his study, were you not concerned for him in the slightest? Sure you dropped off a plate of fruit and refilled his teapot with hot water, but normally your check-ins would be a little more frequent, and a little more encouraging than just a morale boost through food. 
Where was the cheek kiss you always gave him before you left?
Deciding not to press on any further, your husband sighs before leaving, his arms and heart feeling emptier than usual. You are only in the next room, but why do you feel like you’re on the other side of Teyvat?
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The day Wriothesley snaps is the day Sigewinne asks him to be nicer to the guards of the Fortress because his foul mood is darkening the already glum prison. His subordinates must have sent her knowing that he couldn’t possibly lash out at her, and they were right, but she really didn’t need to comment on the way his veins have been more prominent recently, or how creases are forming on his forehead from how hard he’s been scowling. To top it off, she said that he should delay the appearance of wrinkles for as long as necessary, because there’s a good chance they’ll come earlier than he wants.
He’s not even a day over thirty, and yet, he is being reprimanded for ‘ageing’. But he knows the problem, and he’ll be damned if he lets it drag out for another day. 
“Welcome home, baby-” your greeting is cut off unceremoniously by your husband, who practically drags you into his embrace, closing you in with no space for you to breathe or move. Your cries of alarm are muffled against his chest, and he easily picks you up before striding the path to your shared bedroom. There, he all but throws you onto the bed, your neck resting on the pillows as he climbs on after you. “Wriothesley?”
He shushes you.
“What-”
“-I need this,” he wraps around you like a vine and breathes you in with the fervour of a man starved. 
When you try to shuffle away from under him, or at the very least sit up, Wriothesley groans, borderlining a growl as he tightens his arms around your middle. You don’t question or disobey his wants, merely sinking your head into the pillows in understanding that he must have had a particularly rough day. 
So instead of repelling his touch, you give in and let a hand snake up to his hair, playing with it as you let Wriothesley lay atop you. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melts away, and the way you’re scratching his scalp is enticing him to rest, except there is a barrier keeping him from reaching a haven of dreams and he won’t rest peacefully until he’s broken through it.
“Why have you been so distant lately?” He garbles, voice a lot shakier from the usual stoic Wriothesley that you are used to.
You heard him loud and clear, but a pathetic ‘pardon?’ slips past your lips.
“I said, why have you been so distant lately?” This time, he’s firm, determination seeping into his tone as a hand of his sneaks out from underneath you to search for your hand. After patting around, he finds it and holds it gently, raising it to press a long kiss to your knuckles. 
It’s silent. You don’t have anything to say in response and it’s past the grace period where you can give an excuse and make it sound like the truth, and Wriothesley looks up at you with expectant eyes. There’s hurt in them but as much as you’d like to mend the heartbroken expression of his, admitting the truth is difficult, because it has eaten you alive, gnawing at your heart for days on end. 
“I…I don’t have it in me to tell you,” you murmur quietly, looking away and slipping your hand out of his, but Wriothesley is tired of this dance of yours and chases after your touch, this time roughly grasping your wrists. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you rooted. 
“I didn’t do anything, did I?” He asks, raising your hand to his cheek. 
Your voice is quiet when you confess. “If I said you didn’t, I’d be lying.” 
The dark-haired stiffens. “What?” 
“Nothing,” you cough.
“No, Y/n, be honest with me here.”
“You’re going to laugh at me, or find me ridiculous.” Wriothesley’s heart clenches at your admittance, frowning at the fractures of insecurity piercing you like glass, but most of all, he hates that he can’t stop you from feeling this way. “I thought what I did was what you wanted.”  
“Which was?” 
“Some distance, just- not me crowding your personal space all the time.”
“Why would I ever want that?”
“I can get overbearing sometimes, and I don’t know, just assumed that would annoy you.”
“You’re not telling me everything, I can tell something happened to make you feel this way. Please, darling, just tell me the truth. I promise you I won’t judge or think differently of you.” 
You sigh. “I… I overheard you and Monsieur Neuvillette the other day- when I dropped off lunch. You said that my affection was sometimes too much, and that I was making you uncomfortable, so I thought that you wouldn’t want me to be around you anymore. I didn’t want to drive you away so I, y’know…”
Confusion fills him stomach like water and it takes a few moments before it hits him, the memory coming back to him. You heard his conversation out of context- he wasn’t complaining about you, no, quite the opposite, but it just seems that you weren’t there for the parts that mattered most, and now you can’t even bear to look him in the eye. 
“Honey, please look at me,” his voice thins into a vulnerable whisper that pleads for you to glance his way so you can see how he is head over heels in love with you. 
When your gaze finally meets his, he almost cracks under the weight of your sadness, and it dawns upon him that you can’t feel the adoration he holds for you, dripping from his heart into your hands. You can’t see the mountains he’d overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You don’t know the extent he would go just to win your love.
It’s a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, it’s that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night. 
Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. You have been feeling half-loved because of him and he doesn’t know how he can make it up to you.
“You misunderstand. I wasn’t talking about you negatively, I was talking to Neuvillette about how loved you made me feel that way, and how grateful I am to have someone like you as my partner,” he confesses earnestly, eyes pleading for you to believe him.
You blink at him, comprehending his words carefully. “Really?” You ask.
“I would never think otherwise,” he whispers.
As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, a smile pulls at your lips and suddenly, a laugh spills from them, causing your expression to scrunch up with joy, looking the most lively Wriothesley has seen you in a while. He laughs with you too, just a little. 
“I’m sorry,” you confess through dying fits of laughter. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that, how stupid.”
He shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for, you’re not at fault. But I beg you, never hide things like this from me again and tell me whenever something bothers you.”
You nod, “I will.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
“Never ever think that I want to be away from you,” Wriothesley grumbles, hiding himself in the crook of your neck. “That was the worst week of my life.” 
“Sorry for putting you through all that.”
“Stop apologising.” He demands. “Just, no more secrets.” 
“I love you, Wriothesley.” 
He sighs shakily, relief tangible in his tone. “I love you more.”
A damp patch forms on your collar bone right where his tears would fall, and you place a kiss on his forehead for each drop you feel on your skin. There is still much to discuss, much to mend between the two of you, but his hands run along your skin like he’s trying to memorise and mark you, so you never doubt his devotion again. 
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*sighs and puts hands on hips* i don't really like that ending either so don't judge lol
© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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haruchuiyo · 2 months
Text
la vie en rose
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longing touches and lasting feelings. maybe your feelings for your husband really are reciprocated.
content: NOT SFW + MINORS DNI! + fem!reader + established marriage + implied arranged marriage + reader wears a nightgown + little miscommunication + pining + n!pple stimulation + oral (f!receiving) + handj0b + no protecting we going raw! + neuvillette is so dreamy
word count: 4.7k+
paragraphs in italic is what happened before present time
One could say Neuvillette is a blunt man, a harsh one considering his job or a man of few words. But they’d never figure out just how torn apart that said man is over the woman, he’s watching, his lovely and dear wife, smiling as she is talking to her friends.
Or the way his touch seems to linger when he touches your hand, or the small of your back. Or the way his ears redden in colour when you flash him your pretty smile, which he thinks about every minute of the day. Or the way you’re the first thing he thinks about when waking up and the last when going to sleep. Or the way he needs to be close to you at all times. But he still can’t figure out how to show all that to you.
Little does he know about the longing glances you give him, the urges to take his hand in yours and just be with him. To tell him of your day, to tell him how proud you are of him as the Ludex of Fontaine. How much you wish to tell him what you feel for him. Or the way your heart flutters when he simply just looks at you or the way he always holds you to his side in crowd gatherings.
Just how frustrating it was for you two.
You were standing in front of the mirror, trying your best to unlace your gown by yourself since you and your husband Neuvillette sent home the staff for today. Lightly groaning to yourself, you give up and was about to ask Neuvillette for his help but stopped in your tracks. Would he find this okay? Unlacing someone’s gown feels intimate to you. Even if he’s your husband, your marriage has never been consummated because your union as husband and wife was arranged.
You turned to face the door when said man you were thinking about is at the entrance. You must have forgotten to close the door in a haste of wanting to get rid of your gown.
“Sorry, I must have frightened you but I heard some discontent noises as I was passing by. Is everything alright?” He asks as he stands there politely, his hands by his sides as he’s watching you. He looks good in his clothes and you’re fiddling with your hands not knowing what to say but shy to ask him to help you unlace your dress.
“Everything is…quite alright.” You let out an embarrassed chuckle before lightly biting down on your lower lip, missing the way Neuvillette’s eyes fluttered down to your mouth. He’d be damned if you could read into his thoughts, seeing just how much he wishes to take your lips in a kiss.
“Good, I’m glad everything’s alright. Then I shall go and take a rest for tonight.” His voice was polite and your heart is racing. You’re beating yourself up as you see him back away and was about to walk away before you called for him, by his name. He takes steps into your bedroom and reaches closer to you. At your husbands taller figure, you imagine how much you need to stand on your toes to be able to give him a proper kiss on the lips. Or he could lean his head down to meet you halfway. Heart racing at the thought, not helping with your current situation.
You hold your hands together in nervousness. And flustered too, this man is making your heart feel like it’s gonna beat out of its place.
So you turn around and you see your reflection in the mirror. He is so close behind your back and you see how his hands fidget by his side.
“Will you help me with the lace?” You softly ask as you feel his breath hitch. You turn your face to your side to look at him over your shoulder and he slightly nods his head. “Of course, anything.” He answers.
“It’s quite difficult for me to do it alone.” You let out a slight nervous chuckle. And you hear him chuckle from behind you too. And when you feel his hands on the back of your dress, your own breath hitches. And your heart beats and beats the more you feel him untangle the laces at your dress. And when you feel it’s loose, the dress falls down on the floor in a circle around you, leaving you only in your chemise. And you feel how hot Neuvillette feels behind you. So much warmth and heat, you let out a soft gasp when you feel his finger touch your bare back.
At your gasp, he removes his hand in a haste and you groaned to yourself internally for giving such a reaction.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you like that.” He apologized profusely, clearly feeling regretful and you just wanted to yell at him to touch you more and that you don’t mind it. But how brave were you really?
“It’s quite alright.” You shortly say and Neuvillette nodded his head. “Is there more you need help with?” He asks and you shake your head. “No, I be fine but thank you.” At your words, he nods again then leaves your bedroom, leaving you alone in a space he so rightfully has a place in.
Neuvillette thinks of the first time he met you. It was the day you two were to meet each other for the first time after deciding you two were to be married.
He was taking a stroll in the mansion when he stumbled upon you, laying on the floor while gazing up at the ceiling. You looked peaceful and Neuvillette found himself wondering what you must be thinking of gazing at that ceiling. He looks up at it as well, seeing the ceiling in intricate ancient designs, the pattern flowering around each other nicely.
He don’t know what took over him, but he took one step that was a bit too loud which startled you. Upon seeing him witnessing you laying on the bare floor, you hastily sat up, your hair a mess and your eyes widened in shock with your dress puffed up around you.
“Mr Neuvillette, I didn’t see you there.” You mutter out an apology after and Neuvillette shakes his head. “Just…just Neuvillette is fine. And it’s quite alright, I should be the one apologizing for disturbing your peaceful time.” He retorts back and you look down on your intertwined fingers, giggling. Neuvillette felt his heart flutter that moment he saw you smile as you giggled.
“May I ask why you’ve taken a spot on the floor?” He asks and you look up at him, surprised.
“If you joined me, you’d see why I’ve done so.” You smile at him and it was Neuvillette’s turn to be surprised. And he gives a nod.
He laid himself on the floor quite politely, patting out his clothes so they don’t tug as he lays down, his head hit the floor gently.
“It’s cold.” He says simply, hearing you chuckle.
He feels how cool the floor is, the weather outside was sunny and warm, making him feel stuffy. And to combine that with his nervousness of meeting his future wife, it didn’t help with the heat.
“And it’s quite nice, isn’t it?” He hears you ask, he turns his head to face you. Your eyes were closed and there was a soft smile on your mouth. You looked serene.
“Indeed, it is.” He mumbles out softly, still watching you.
To think about that day, he realized he’s fallen for you since and doesn’t plan to get up. You’ve had his heart since the first moment he met you, seeing you on the floor gazing up at the ceiling.
And here he is, in your bedroom after you’ve called him in. You’re standing there, awaiting an answer. An answer for your question.
“Do you have feelings for me?” You had asked before he went down the memory lane. You were gripping onto your robe, still in your night clothes. All Neuvillette could think about was why you would ask that of him. And what kind of question is that.
“I don’t know what you mean by that.” He answers, further adding onto your frustration. You let out a soft groan, your eyes wavering as you speak to him.
“I’m asking if you, my husband, have feeling for me. Your wife, Neuvillette. You avoid me like the plague as soon as you’re close to me.” There’s frustration laced in your voice. Neuvillette feels confused, his mind, usually collected is now splattered.
“I’m not avoiding you.” He says. His short answers doesn’t help with your frustration and you could almost feel anger surging up inside you. He usually talks like this, why are you so angry? Maybe because he’s being so short with you when all you want is a proper talk.
“Then explain the way you avoid my touches. How you avoid me as soon as we get close. How you avoid doing things together, alone. How you seem to be at work far more, even been there for days at a week than at home than—.” You explain to him, words spitting out and Neuvillette feels frustrated now as well.
“With you.” He adds onto your last sentence. You nod. “Yes, with me.” Your voice wavered and he feels his heart constrict. He never wanted to make you feel alone. He only did what he thought and thus acted upon it.
“I thought you didn’t want me there.” He tells you and your eyes widen at his words. “You’ve seemed almost unresponsive to my advances and I believed you didn’t like it, so I put a distance.” He explained. He feels sad and frustrated. The amount of times he wanted to hold you, to hold your hands or your body to his. To able to gently hold your face in his hands and kiss you breathlessly.
“Is the only reason you’ve avoided me?” You ask softly.
“No.” He says.
“Then why would you think that?”
“Because your presence makes me feel things.”
At that, you felt the world stop. Make him feel things? Your heart decides to flutter at that moment. About to speak up, your husband beats you to it.
“Lay down on the floor with me, will you?” He asks gently as he lays down on the floor, reaching a hand out to you. You throat dries up as you nod your head and take his hand in yours and lay down beside him on the floor.
“The first time I saw you, you were doing this. Laying on the floor, gazing at the ceiling like it was a work of art, admiring each and every detail and looking at it like how no one ever does.” His voice was soft, as he tells you of the day you two first met. You remember that day clearly. He startled you with the way he stepped so loudly and when he joined you on that cold floor on that sunny day, you’d thought maybe your marriage with him wouldn’t be so bad.
“You’ve had my heart ever since that warm sunny day, my love.” He turns to face you, taking your intertwined hands and placed it on the spot his heart is. “You’ve taken my heart like a storm, making me fall for you every day since. And I tell you, I don’t decide to let these feelings fade.” At his words, your heart constricts and your vision feels almost blurry. You see him reach out his free hand to wipe away your tears. Tears. You’re crying.
“I’m sorry to leave you alone, to make you feel alone because you were not. Even if I wasn’t with you physically, you always had my heart with you. But it doesn’t justify how I left my lovely wife wondering if I love her. Because I do.” He smiles, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs and you let out a soft chuckle, happiness streaming all over in your body.
“I’m sorry, my love. I truly am.” You shake your head at his words. “Don’t be, you have quite made up for it right now.” You tell him with a small grin and Neuvillette smiles at you.
“And I havent been so good to you either, always gasping and flinching as soon as you touch me. And it’s all because you make me feel things as well. And things only you can —“ You have no idea what made you look into his eyes, but when you did and what you saw, you felt shivers running down your spine as heat surged up inside you.
“—fulfill.” you finish with a stuttering voice.
He leans his face in closer to yours, rubbing his nose against your own. Your heart beats faster and your stomach a fluttering mess. When he lightly grazes his lips on yours, seeing how you didn’t back away, he presses his mouth against yours taking you in for a kiss.
His mouth was soft, lips moving leisurely against your own. You can’t believe you missed out on this all these months since the wedding day. A first proper kiss with your husband. A breathless one. When he tilts your head upwards for better access, you moan into the kiss and you feel him move his body closer to yours, pressing his front against your own. And he pulls away, leaving you both lightly panting.
“Do you wanna take this to bed?” You shyly mumble. You see his cheeks lightly redden in color before he nods, leaving you a hot mess.
Laying down on the bed, resting your back against stacks of pillow, Neuvillette was inbetween your thighs. You see him gulping on air as his eyes flicker all over of you. You had taken off your robe, leaving you only in your white nightgown. You looked breathtaking in the nightgown, the gown hugging your body so perfectly. You reach your hand out, to hold onto his and tugging on towards you. He moves closer to you, you shudder feeling his warmth, looking up at him, nervous but excited.
Neuvillette felt his heart beat so fast when his chest pressed against yours but he felt relieved when your arms circled around his neck, your breast snuggled against his chest and he kisses you again.
Both of you moaning into the kiss, you felt your husband move his hands up and down your sides, holding your waist before groping onto the flesh the more your kiss deepened. Neuvillette wasn’t sure what it was that made him act upon it, but he believes it was an instinct to move his body against yours, rubbing his throbbing erection against your heat.
Trembling against him, moans slips past your mouth when you felt him rub up against you while he slid his tongue deep into your throat, the kiss sticky and loud but so good. He nips on your lower lip, kisses the corner of your mouth before placing one another kiss on your lips again before pulling away. You lightly groan, missing his kisses then you see how he’s trailing his hands up to the straps of your dress, his gentle touches making you shudder in anticipation and then he pulls them down your shoulders. The upper half of your nightgown slips down your body and you look at Neuvillette to see his reaction. He’s enamoured with the sight in front of him.
He brushes his fingers lightly over your perky buds, his eyes glancing at your face when you gasp softly at his air light touch on your tits. Then he rubs his thumb over your nipples before reaching his face down to take a bud into his mouth. Your back arches at the feeling of his tongue licking and flickering your nipple with the tip of his tongue, while his hand plays with your other nipple. Your hands go to grasp onto his blue horns and when he sucks on your nipple, you lightly pull on his Neuvillette’s hair, tilting his head back making him groan against your tit. Then he gives the same attention to your other one, sensations running all over your body with the way he works his tongue on your tits. Before he pulls away, he kisses the mound softly, nipping before lightly biting down on the skin, leaving a mark. He looks at the bite mark he left and feels proud of himself.
You tug on his nightshirt, telling him to take it off. Obeying your demands, your husband takes his nightshirt off and you see his blue dragon tattoos on his arms up to his shoulders, the pattern swirly but so beautiful.
“So pretty.” You mumble softly as you touch the pattern before looking up at him. His eyes glistens and his face seems to flush in colour. He takes his breeches off, leaving him in his undergarments only. Your eyes flicker down to the clear erection on his undergarments and your body flushes in heat.
You sigh in content when you feel Neuvillette touch the edge of your nightgown before holding onto your thighs, making you slide on the bed and be pulled towards him. You giggle at the action then see how your husband has a serious face on. You reach a hand out to touch his face, he nuzzles his face into your palm like it was a reflex and kisses the inside of your palm before looking at you.
“What is it?” You ask gently while stroking his cheek. He lightly shakes his head then gives up and starts sighing. You get confused at his reaction before his words both surprises you but also makes you flustered.
“We haven’t consummated our marriage.” He says and you gulp on nothing as you nod in agreement. At his words alone and the way he turns quiet when you nodded, you get what he’s trying to say. If you want to consummate it now. Asking for your consent about it. Your heart flutters at his caring gesture and you cup his face with both your hands and pull him down towards you.
“I have wanted you since we met, dear husband.” You softly say against his mouth and Neuvillette’s eyes widens in surprise. “Really?” He asks and you giggle, pulling away while giving him an expression of ‘you’re so silly’.
“Of course silly, I wore a cute nightgown on our wedding night but you didn’t see it.” You tell him softly and he lightly pouts. “Can you show it to me next time?” He asks and you giggle again, kissing the tip of his nose before nodding.
“Next time.” You confirm and he smiles at you before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. Then kisses the spot there before trailing kisses down your throat to your cleavage. He pushes the nightgown down along the way as he kisses. He takes it off when he reaches your navel, you lift your legs up so the dress is off you properly. And now you’re bare in front of him and he can’t stop looking and touching.
His fingers trail along your body shape, he lightly squeezes your tits feeling the weight in his hands, muttering so many ‘beautiful’ as he explores your body. All you could do was take in the good feelings his touches gave you and how good it felt hearing his praises.
You pull on his undergarments before tugging them down his thighs and he takes them off properly before seating himself in between your thighs again. His cock sat prettily against his lower abdomen, there was a slight precum on the tip. Before you could stare at it further, Neuvillette kisses you on the mouth then presses more kisses down your entire front to your cunt.
“May i?” He asks, his hot breath fanning over your bare cunt. “Yes.” You breathe out before your toes curl onto the sheets when he take a tentative lick over your pussy before flicking his tongue over your clit. The sensations too much, you push the heels of your feet into his back as you grip onto his hair. His licking is ravening. If you just try to squeeze your thighs in on his face, he pulls them further apart not letting you move your limbs at all.
He rocks his bare erection against the sheet, moaning at the way you taste in his mouth and how you so tightly grip on his hair. Then he pulls a single finger in and hears you gasp from above him. When he slides in another finger, he feels your thighs shudder while you let out sweet noises and moans after another, his favorite sounds in the world. He keeps thrusting his fingers inside you as he sucks and licks on your clit before sending you over the edge.
You came so hard all you could do was stare up at the ceiling panting. You missed out on all this all these months of not touching your husband? You internally beat yourself before looking down, seeing Neuvillette still inbetween your thighs, softly kissing the inside of it and giving your cunt one last kiss before he moves up and connects his chest with yours. You see his chin is wet with your cum and the way he licks his lips before he takes your lips in a kiss, making you taste yourself on his tongue. He pulls away with panting and moans while leaning his head against your shoulder when he feels you take his cock in your hands and move your hand up and down it.
“Darling, if you keep that up I might not be able to contain myself anymore.” His words are strained as he moans against your neck while gripping onto your waist. He lightly thrusts into your hand, feels you rub the tip and he groans and comes with a bite on your skin. Spurts of cum lands on your stomach as Neuvillette breathes hard. When he sees his cum on your body, he is finding his virility outstanding. But when he sees you lightly spread his cum on your abdomen to your cunt, his breath hitches and he looks at your face. You’re biting on your lower lip with an expression of you clearly know what you’re doing and how it’s affecting him.
So he takes your mouth in a messy kiss and you squeeze your thighs around his waist and he rubs his cock against your bare cunt. You moan against his lips when you feel him brush up against your clit and you swear you felt the tip almost slip inside. You whimper against his mouth before he pulls away. He holds his weight on one arm as the other holds onto his cock and he looks at you, you nod your head and he takes that as consent to slide inside your heat.
Slowly by slowly, he fills you up. Every second of that has you gripping onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his shoulder blades until he is fully inside you. Neuvillette lets out a deep breath and looks at you.
“Have you ever touched yourself?” His voice is soft and curious, his touches gentle on your skin as he waits for your answer. Your body flushes at his question. “At the thought of you?” You ask quietly. There was a small silence before you see a slight nod from his head. “Yes.” Your answer was simple yet you felt so flustered. You let out a slight gasp when you feel how his cock inside you, feels like it’s growing bigger. “Oh-“ you didn’t manage to say anything when you feel how Neuvillette is softly pressing down on your abdomen.
Feeling him grow bigger inside you has you feeling a lot at once and your honest answer to his question adds onto the streams of pleasure in your body. You cover your face feeling flustered and shy, he gently uncovers your face, planting a deep kiss on your lips, you moan when you feel him twitch inside you.
“Don’t ever cover yourself around me.” He says against your skin, nipping softly at your sensitive spots before he slowly thrusts inside making you moan while holding onto his tighter. Your hands trail up to grip onto his hair as he continues to thrust into you, his cock hitting sweetly inside you.
He grabs onto your arms and pins them against the bed, his knees pressing into the mattress as he continues to thrust deeper and deeper inside you, hitting places you’d never think off to do yourself.
He reaches down by your ears murmuring sweet praises of ‘such a good wife’, ‘you feel so good’ and ‘taking me so well’. When he mutters “I’ve been dreaming about this every night.” You claw onto his back, stimulations running up and down your body at his words as he holds onto both of your arms with one hand, while his other goes to knead onto your tits, loving the feeling of their weight in his hands.
You arch your back when you feel him take a nipple in his mouth, kissing the bud and you squeeze your thighs tighter around his waist at the way he’s having you. Then he pulls away to kiss you, the kiss so messy and of fervour. You feel Neuvillette all around you. So big and so safe while he’s driving you crazy with the way he’s moving his hips against you, so in control of his body and the way he’s kissing you like a man starved.
You just take it all in, kissing equally as fervently back and snap your thighs around his slender waist tighter as he pounds into your cunt harder and harder. You feel him reach a hand down to rub on your clit and you moan against his mouth, feeling this knot in your abdomen about to release the more he rubs onto your clit and fucks into your harder until the knot releases and you cum hard. You cry out a moan, gripping onto his hair as you come and Neuvillette joins you shortly after, groaning against your lips with his eyes shut close in ecstasy and holds your hips with both of his hands and cums into you. He fills you up to the brim with his cum while gripping onto your hips.
Then you feel him panting against you, his warm breath on your face and you see him open his eyes and he looks all over you with a blush on his face, sweat visible on his forehead and his hair messy from your constant grasps on it. He tucks your hair behind your ear as he smiles you before you let out a breathy giggle and he finds you so endearing.
“What is so funny, my love?” He brushes his nose against yours, trailing the tip of his nose down your face to your jaw while still inside you. You hum in content before lightly chuckling.
“Was thinking that I missed out on this for so long, could’ve solved our little miscommunication so easily.” You grin at him and Neuvillette stills in surprise before his face looks like they’re filled with amusement.
“Or I should’ve done this the day we got married.” He tells you and you pretend to ponder playfully while humming. “Yeah you should have.” You nod your head and Neuvillette chuckles as you grin at him. He holds your face softly as he runs his thumbs over your cheeks, looking at you fondly and with so much love. Your heart flutters and you wrap your arms around his upper body, hugging him to yourself.
“I love you, and I will tell and show you that everyday.” He presses a kiss on your lips. “For the rest of my life.” He kisses you again and you giggle.
“And I shall love you for the rest of my life as well.” You tell him and Neuvillette smiles at you before turning you two around so you were atop him. As he did that, you felt him move inside you. You lightly whine in pleasure and you felt him swell up and twitch inside you. You widen your eyes and when you feel reach his hands down your butt, you lightly yelp resulting in you squeezing around him. Neuvillette lets out a soft groan before he looks at you, his eyes wandering from your face, lips to your tits down to the bite mark he left before his fluttered up yours, a slight gasp leaves your mouths when you feel move your hips, him still lodged inside you.
“Oh, you bewitch me, my lovely wife.”
this was a long piece of just going raw damn-
hope you enjoyed this! if you’ve come this far, a reblog and like would be incredibly appreciated<3
451 notes · View notes
scaredpigeons · 4 months
Text
Deus Auri
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Zhongli x reader (gn)
Word count: 1.04k (smol)
CW: sfw:) mild spoilers for Neuvillettes voice lines about Morax, he calls him Deus Auri, which is god of gold in Latin— might just be a title but any little tidbit of Morax we get I just gobble gobble up. Flirting, zhongli calls you my dear, darling, vixen. No pronouns or other gender specific language used. Some kisses and allusions of wanting more.
Enjoy!
“Deus Auri.”
You can nearly hear the crack of Zhongli’s neck as his gaze whips towards you, but you keep your gaze trained on your book as if you hadn’t seen its comical swivel in your peripherals. 
“I’m sorry my dear, could you repeat that?” He said, though there was an edge to his tone. 
“Deus Auri—God of Gold. What can you tell me about that name?” You said, index finger gliding down the edge of the book. You were no longer reading, but still kept your eyes trained on the pages to pretend like you weren’t vibrating with excitement at his reaction. 
Zhongli was naturally very stoic, a well maintained facade to those who weren’t interested in looking deeper. 
You had been plenty interested, taking one look at him and instantly knowing he was no ordinary man. 
Now the better part of half a year into your blossoming relationship, he still hadn’t outright told you, but he’d grown comfortable. 
You’d catch glimpses of his wrists, normally covered— deep onyx with veins of pure gold. Though this only happened in the safety of his home— there was a time he had to remove his gloves to help you in the kitchen, and his perfectly pale, human hands had distracted you the entire time. 
The glamor he kept up in public slipped a bit when he was more at ease. 
To the eye that was actually looking, zhongli really wasn’t subtle about who he was. 
“Well, why don’t we start with where you heard such a name?” He asked. 
“I was with the traveler last week, helping she and paimon with a commission in Fontaine.” 
You can see the minuscule wince he gives out of the corner of your eye. Just a twitch of the brows as he blinks, so graceful, but you catch it because you’re looking for it. 
“I overheard a conversation she had with a lovely gentleman over there, though I didn’t get to introduce myself. He mentioned the name when the traveler was asking him about Rex Lapis.”
You closed your book, finally turning to look at him, though you kept your gaze coyly through heavy lids, peaking demurely at him through your lashes. 
“And you know, I thought that was very strange, her asking him about Rex lapis, when she could learn anything and everything about him from our resident expert.” 
“The traveler has not visited liyue to see me in some time, darling. And I'm sure there are others who’ve studied the gods. I am not the only knowledgeable one in Teyvat.” 
“I know, I know.” You chewed on your lip a bit for effect, looking puzzled. “So who is this Deus Auri? Is it perhaps another one of Morax’s many names?” 
You looked at him expectantly, grinning as he grew more stiff in his seat beside you. A mere foot of space between you on the couch and he looked like he was ready for you to pounce on him. 
You wanted to, you have wanted to, but he so chivalrously insists upon taking it slow. 
Hand holding in the harbour. Chaste kisses good night. You wanted so badly to break through his barriers but you knew he was holding back.
“You are…” he let a puff of air through his nose. “Correct in the knowledge that Morax was known to have many different names. Unfortunately that is all I can say on the matter.” 
“So cryptic.” You squinted at him. He often shut you out when you pried like this, poking and prodding in places you know you shouldn’t be, but he was always kind and straightforward about it—so you usually dropped it as soon as he denied you. 
“Do you think he had a favourite name that he went by?” You pushed a bit more, hoping to get him to give you just one more crumb before you played your cards. It was time, you were getting tired of hiding it.
He smiled thoughtfully, relaxing into the couch once more. “I’d like to think that he enjoyed the name Rex Lapis, the name given to him by his people. I’m sure it brought him a great sense of pride.” 
You grinned, soaking in his expression and words. Knowing what you know— gods. He really was so cute sometimes. 
You open up your book, stilling your grin to prepare for what was next. 
“Really? I’d like to think Zhongli is his favourite. Retirement is a good look for him.” 
You expected denial, perhaps his neck snapping back to you like it did when you first mentioned the ancient name. 
What you didn’t expect was to be tackled to the floor, a gloved hand supporting your neck instinctively as you and your book tumbled along the floor with the blur of rich oranges and browns that took you down. 
When you finally settled, you were on your back with him looming over you, pining you to the ground. 
“You little vixen. How long have you known?” His eyes were wild, hair a mess, cheeks flushed and breathless. Disheveled.
He looked more beautiful now than you’d ever seen him before.  
“From the moment you opened your mouth.” 
He kissed his teeth in a quick tsk, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Nothing escapes you, does it? I knew I would be in trouble with you.”  
You cupped his face in your hands, pulling him back towards you. 
“And yet you kept me around regardless.” You smiled, giving him a quick, teasing peck on the lips. 
“How could I not? You have an inescapable magnetism that I am completely captured by. I’m afraid to say that you’re unraveling me even as we now speak.” 
You grinned at him, face feeling just as flush as his. 
“How much more unraveling do I need to do to get you to let down those walls you keep around you?” 
“They were gone the moment I saw that you knew the truth, my dear, you should have said something much sooner.” He tilted his head with a soft grin. 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him ever closer. 
“Kiss me then, you old blockhead.” 
He gave a rumble in his chest that sounded very much like a growl, and it set your nerves on fire.  
“Behave.” He said sternly. 
“No promises,” you said as you kissed him. 
494 notes · View notes
bunny-rambles · 6 months
Note
Hi! I hope you're doing okay!
I have a request if you don't mind.
I go so silent when im owerwhelmed. To the rate its so hard for me talk. I wont be able to join to the conversation even if i really want to. At those days, i just need some cuddles and affection.
What if reader just comes back to home and the character is just laying on the couch and reader lays on top of then without saying anything, just listening to their heartbeat? Can i request it with scara, albedo, kazuha, venti and whoever you want to add?
Have a good day💕
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“I’m Here.”
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characters; Scaramouche, Albedo, Venti, Kazuha, gn reader
cw/tw; talks of low mood and anxiety, hurt/comfort
word count; 500+ for each
notes; Hi, thank you so much for this request, sorry it took so long, it just takes forever to get my inspiration going nowadays. I hope you’re still here to enjoy this <3 it’s been stuck in wip hell but it’s finally here now, enjoy. (If some people want to, I’ll see if I can do a part 2 with some other characters. I’m thinking Wriothesley and Neuvillette. Let me know what you think.)
Please reblog if you like this!!
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Scaramouche
“Hey, are you even listening?”
Tired eyes move up towards the small crowd of people around you, focusing on the unimpressed pair of eyes burning their gaze into you. Your hand is idly tapping your pen against the empty piece of paper in front of you, but it quickly stops the second you feel the suffocating feeling in your chest from your entire table watching your every move.
“Sorry.” You apologise quietly, only to turn your head away from your classmate, who just scoffs at your haphazard reply and continues on with whatever they were talking about, their jargon falling on deaf ears.
If you were being honest, you could care less about the topic of the conversation.
Today was just one of those days where you felt that heavy feeling in your head, that light fluttering in your stomach. It felt like something was wrong, but nothing had happened to make you like this. Nothing in the typical sense, anyway. No event to trigger such a reaction, not even a snide whisper about you that caught your attention - nothing. You just felt, to sum it up in one word, overwhelmed.
Silently, you slipped out of your seat and snuck away when the conversation had moved on from your strange behaviour, the feeling all consuming at this point. When you were alone, there was only one thought in your mind: find him.
There were a lot of people who didn’t even bother to try to find out his name, only giving him a simple nickname due to his peculiar style. But not you. No, you were the odd one out, the only one in the entire Akademiya who sought out the company of the sharp-tongued vagrant. Perhaps you were the only one who could understand the true meaning of his biting remarks, the only one who knew just how understanding he could be.
He wasn’t in the lecture today, or anywhere in the Akademiya. That wasn’t too much of an issue. He had told you where you could find him if you really needed him (‘or whatever’, you recall him mumbling as his violet eyes shied away from yours, rose blooming so delicately on his porcelain cheeks).
So your feet moved on their own, stumbling along until you came to a quiet opening in the surrounding mountains of Sumeru. And there he was, perched on the edge of the hill that was overlooking the scenery of the entire city - a silent protector. He looked serene, calm in the gentle glow of the sunbeams shining down on the peak of the rocky formation. Maybe it would be best not to disturb him - you couldn’t even remember the last time he looked so at peace with the world.
You took a step back. A branch snapped noisily under your foot, causing the wanderers head to whip around to face you. His brief look of surprise is quickly replaced with his usual look of indifference.
“Oh, it’s you.” He sounded bored, but not aggravated by your presence. This was a good sign for him. But when you didn’t respond, the blank look on his face shifted as he raised an eyebrow at your lack of response. “Well? Spit it out. What do you want?” He prompted again, albeit a little harshly.
But no matter how much you wanted to tell him why you were there, no words would leave your mouth. It was like your lips were just sealed shut.
Instead, you just sat down beside him, your fingers dancing with one another in your lap. Your lips moved, shaping the words that wanted to come out, but no sound accompanied them. A heavy sigh left your lips, already feeling defeated with not being able to do one simple thing right today.
Luckily, you didn’t need to. With an exhale of breath that matched your own, you heard the rustling of fabric by your side as the puppet opened his arms for you.
“Come here.” He ordered in a soft voice, his eyes avoiding your own. When you didn’t respond immediately, obviously in complete surprise with what you were witnessing, he grumbled something under his breath, too quiet for you to understand. Red began to bleed through his white skin, his teeth gritting together before he spoke again. “I don’t have all day. Now come here before I change my mind.”
Soon, his arms were around you, wrapping you up in his comforting embrace when you finally shuffled towards him. And here, nothing could hurt you, not while all you had to focus on was his fingers rubbing deep, comforting circles in your back. His chin rested atop of your head, mainly to hide the gentleness present in his features as he held you close to his chest. If only he had a heart, just so you could listen to the gentle pounding of it against his chest whenever he touched you. Instead, you heard a soft breeze right next to your ear, flowing in time with the pulsing light of his vision with each time his chest raised to take a breath.
There were no words exchanged between the two of you, only the sweet sounds of birds chirping, and that same gentle breeze that surrounded the both of you while you stayed in one another's arms.
Venti
The door swung open with a loud crash against the wall, a cheerful laugh accompanying the startling sound. “Oh, Windblume! Are you home?” The melodic voice of the bard sang out through his shared home of his partner.
Silence.
This did not deter him, however, as he hummed a quiet tune to himself as he set the freshly picked apples along large bottle of dandelion wine on the table, his hands going to his hips as he listened for the tell-tale sound of your soft footsteps or the sweet cadence of your voice. But once again, the young man was met with an eerie quietness.
“Huh. Guess they’re not home.” Viridescent eyes scan their surroundings before landing on a small note hidden away in the corner of the room, neatly placed on the very desk you had been working at so tirelessly these past few days.
‘At Windrise.’
Oh. So it was one of those days. No matter, he knew exactly what to do when you weren’t feeling your best. After quickly grabbing a couple of apples from the large bag he had carried home, he was already on his way to come find you.
And find you he did, sat alone underneath the towering tree with your head in your hands, looking devoid of any positive emotions. Even in the embrace of the winds of freedom, you still felt tied down from the thoughts swarming in your head. The gentle wind around you playfully tussled your hair, but it did very little to quell the storm raging inside of you, its thunder petrifying. There was a rustle above you in the leaves of the great tree, a few fluttering down to gently graze against your cheeks, like nature's soft kisses. And then a head emerged from them, a wide smile on the owner's face.
“Hello there!” Venti greeted with his signature wink, his twin tails swaying in the wind, his forehead exposed from hanging upside down from the branch. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, your hand reaching out to carefully pull a few stray leaves out of his hair. He swung himself with his legs to press a kiss against your cheek, an airy laugh coming from him before he finally hopped down to take his place next to you. “I brought you something, but it might be a little bruised now.”
The bard giggled sheepishly before pulling out one of the apples he had grabbed earlier, throwing it up in the air for you to catch. Your hands cradled the ripe fruit, treating it as a precious treasure before you brought it up to your lips for a bite. A sigh left your lips from the sweet taste coating your tastebuds, the flavour almost sinful. But how could it be with the god who gave it to you right by your side? No, this was heavenly. Paradise was in your hand, and you couldn’t help but take another bite, showing off a thankful smile towards your partner who was already tucking into his own.
You expected him to speak, to fill the air with jokes or light hearted chatter. However, the only thing that made any noise right now was the petals of the nearby asters and the tweeting of songbirds. The archon beside you was quiet, waiting for you to speak first. And if you didn’t feel up to talking, that was okay too. He was going to be by your side, no matter how you felt. Much like the wind he commanded, he would always be with you, even on your bad days. No words were exchanged between the two of you. Instead, your head leaned closer to his until your cheek was pressed up against his shoulder, a deep sigh leaving your lips. But this time, it was filled with content instead of your previous anxiety. Venti’s hand that wasn’t holding his own apple gently cradled your head, his fingers lightly threading through your soft hair.
“My dear Windblume, you’ve worked so hard.” He finally spoke, his soft cheek resting lightly against the top of your head, like the softest of feathers.
“Don’t be afraid… I’m here.”
Kazuha
It had been a long day.
A fight with the endless stacks of paper at your desk had left you feeling drained, the walls of your bedroom feeling almost like a prison instead of a sanctuary for dreams and comfort. Your hands trembled as you re-read the few scarce sentences that you had managed to write down, only for them to curl into tight fists around the delicate piece of paper. What does it matter? It barely made sense anyway.
You needed out of this room. Shaky legs pulled your body out of your solitude, into the fresh air and tall grass that brushed against the back of your legs. You weren’t quite sure what led you to this meadow. Perhaps it was just an inexplicable pull you felt that was dragging you towards something more enchanting than the dull surroundings of a desk and barely functioning pen - something more warm, more comforting.
There, sitting in the middle of this peaceful field of flowers, he sat.
Eyes closed, with a serene smile painted on his gentle face, his silvery wisps of hair blowing softly in the winds - much like the swaying stalks of emerald around him. And once those eyes fluttered open to reveal the rubies underneath, you could feel the very air in your throat catch. That smile you admired only widened when his gaze set on you.
“Fancy seeing you here. Care to join me?” Kazuha spoke, his bandaged hand extended towards your own. You felt guilty intruding on such a peaceful moment like this, but when he was looking at you like that, inviting you to spend time with him… Well, how could you possibly refuse? Your hand connected with his own, a gentle tug leading to you seating yourself next to him. Instead of letting go of your hand, or letting his touch linger on your skin for a moment, he interlocked his fingers with your own. His side brushed against your own, your smile slowly but surely mirroring his own curled lips. Silence curled its invisible arms around the two of you, wrapping you up in comforting tranquillity, only found with the closest of companions.
A soft exhale left the man beside you, his body leaning backwards to lay against the ground, his gaze fixated on the clouds above.
“Here.” He whispers, patting the space underneath you to encourage you to join him. “Lay with me. Let your troubles float away with the drifting clouds.”
Carefully, you also laid back, with your hand still intertwined with his own and your other one resting on top of your stomach.
It wasn’t long before you found yourself under his arm, nestled up against his side with your cheek pressing up gently against his chest. His fingers gently began to run through your hair, his movements idle, his soul at peace - as well as yours.
“You don’t have to talk about what is troubling you, dove. But if you ever need to talk to me, or perhaps, if you just want me to be with you - then you need only ask.” The wandering prince spoke, his soothing movements unchanging. “Or just come find me if you feel like you can’t. Your presence is never a bother.” He chuckles softly, holding you closer to his side, his head leaning against your own.
“I promise… You’ll never have to go through anything alone, as long as I’m by your side.”
Albedo
The gentle clinking of glass echoes around the room as a solitary alchemist works in silence. Concentration is etched onto his porcelain face, his lips drawn in a straight line as his gaze fixates on the bubbling liquid inside the flask he was holding in a gentle grasp. He raises an eyebrow, however, when a figure starts to form in the reflection. In the distorted mirroring of the glass, he could make out a pair of saddened eyes staring longingly at him, yet silence persisted in the room. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t just hallucinating - hours alone with various fumes and chemicals did have those side effects, after all. When he concluded he was in fact not deluding himself, he lowered the container carefully and turned around to face the one who had been waiting patiently behind him to finish analysing the results of his experiments.
This was a sight he wasn’t unfamiliar with. It wasn’t the first time he had seen you look so downcast. But rarely did you ever seek him out during these moods of yours, especially while he was working. This was… Unusual. It must’ve been quite serious.
He waited for you to speak, to tell him whatever was on your mind, but no words came. Instead, your eyes refused to meet his own, almost as if you were guilty for disturbing him or bothering him with your presence. But to Albedo, you could never be a bother - your very existence filled him with elation, even if he seldom expressed that notion towards you with words. At least his actions told you otherwise.
“Is there something I can help you with?” He inquired carefully, making sure not to push you too much. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, a few stutters of some quiet words he couldn’t quite make out. He glanced back to his makeshift workshop for a moment before his cerulean eyes locked with your own glassy ones. Deft fingers moved towards the bunsen burner, switching the contraption off before they moved to cup your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes locked once more. He hummed inquisitively, wondering why you looked so upset. But, no matter. If you were here, surely he could be of some use, even if you were unwilling to share what was troubling you.
“Perhaps it’s time for a break.” The blonde declared thoughtfully before intertwining his fingers with your own, guiding you out of the laboratory and into a more peaceful area of the Favonius headquarters. Once inside, he led you over to a large couch, gesturing for you to sit down before he joined you. He cleared his throat awkwardly while opening his arms to you. “I’ve heard that physical contact and affection relieves stress.” He stated, his eyes flitting away from you for a few fleeting seconds. “Would you perhaps like a hug?”
Hesitantly, he shifted closer when he noticed you were doing the same before taking you into his arms and cradling you to his chest. A shuddering breath left your lips as the warmth you had craved all day seeped through your skin, deep into your bones.
“Is… This okay?” The alchemist asks quietly, unsure. You nod against his chest, your own arms circling around his middle. His hold around you tightens. A gentle hand rests on top of your head, his other on your lower back, fingers idly tracing patterns against your back. The motion is calculated, an automatic action, as if he knew exactly what to do to soothe your worries just with his touch alone.
“I’m glad you found me and I’m glad I could help. Please, my darling, stay in my arms until you feel better.” Before you could even open your mouth to ask about his work, he continues, in a soft tone only reserved for you and his little sister. “No experiment or variable compares to the feeling of holding you like this. So please, allow me to indulge myself.”
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maopll · 7 months
Note
omg hi I love ur work this is so exciting
honestly I’d be happy with anything you made so please just hcs for all your faves!! thank you!
shall I compare thee to a summer's day ?
#genshin impact !
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⌗:, a/n: making my come back again after 2 months. wrote this in class pls take it. don't even know if this is actually a headcanon or not mate.
⌗:, warning: childe's real name, mention of endearments in many.
⌗:, pairings: childe, kaeya,zhongli, diluc, ayato, neuvillette, wriothesley, beidou w/ gn!reader (separately)
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CHILDE
He works day and night just to be by your side when you go to sleep. He can't let you sleep alone on that cold bed. He comes everyday and falls asleep while hugging your form. All the regrets and bloodlust now gone as he focuses on your sleeping peaceful form. He grows sentimental by the night and always worries about you 'how will you able to stay safe when I'm not here ?'. He is snapped back to reality when you softly speak in a low voice "ajax? you're here" and smile while turning towards him. Even in the darkest of nights your smiles brings him the brightest of dawns. He hugs you tightly to his chest and kisses your forehead. This soft and sweet side of childe is what only you can see.
KAEYA
Being a cavalry captain means that he is quite efficient in the ways of welding swords and riding horses. Although they don't quite apply at present but he has taken you out on horse ridings for more than once. Riding through the vast forests and along with the wind. As the evening fell, you two rested under a tree in Starsnatch Cliff while watching the sun set in each others arms. He held you close to him as he softly kissed you. Oh, how beautiful you looked as the suns rays fell on you. He could cherish this moment forever...however fleeting moments of happiness are best savoured when they are short-lived as they would continue to stay engraved in his minds for years to come...for centuries to last.
ZHONGLI
Hands intertwined with his big ones as you two strided along the coast of the sea. It was twilight, almost dusk. The cool breeze of the sea, accompanied by the lulling of the waves, all seemed so surreal. You were smiling brightly, and Zhongli felt that you looked ethereal. For all the years he's lived, he's never felt so loved and so lucky to have someone by his side. The lovesick moment between you and your lover was sealed by a kiss from Zhongli. Oh, how can you look so beautiful?
DILUC
Maids hear the sound of the gramophone from your and Diluc's shared room, but they just brushed it off thinking that it is you listening to the old mondstadt classics and waltz. Little do they know that the songs are on because two lovers are dancing to it. A cherished pastime of his as he softly holds you close to him. Steps careful and synchronized. The sound of footsteps, the symphony from the gramophone, and the glowing orange embers of the sun illunitaing the room through lace curtains. A dreamlike landscape. He looked at you with lovesick eyes, the same eyes he looked at you with when he first proposed to you. A gentle smile tugged at his lips as he closed his eyes, taking in the moment with you.
AYATO
Atop the cliff of Amakane Island, you and ayato were writing your wishes on the lantern, which would then float up to the skies to receive the blessings of the archon...as per the story goes. The lanterns glow illuminated your faces as Ayato carefully admired your face. 'you look so radiant tonight love' he thought to himself and then chuckling because of how helplessly he is in love with you. "Love I'm done writing should we let it go now?" you said excitedly and he humed in approval. The lantern was then let go off and it found its place among the blanket of stars in the night sky. Your lover held you close to him as he kissed you on the forehead, taking in the ethereal quietness and serenity of the moment
NEUVILLETTE
On the soft green grass, the melusines played as you carefully groomed Neuvillette's long hair. You braided it and added a few freshly picked rainbow roses and lumidouce bells to his hair. "Are the flowers necessary dear?" "nope! you look absolutely gorgeous love, don't take them off". He was about to retort until the melusines also agreed that he looked pretty with the flowers. He hesitantly agreed but if it means that it will put a smile on your face he will gladly do so. Putting the flower crown on top of your head that one of the melusines had made before, he held you close to him. He never felt so peaceful in all of his lifetime. It was a blessing to spend the day with his beloved and also with the melusines he adores so much. A smile broke out in his face as you all continued with your day. It seems that the sun will shine for quite a while today.
WRIOTHESLEY
Brewing tea with you always had such a wholesome domestic vibe to it. You boiled the water as he selected his and yours' favourite tea. Being his lover made you knowledgeable about all the types and kinds of tea and the techniques required to brew them. "Honey, you can put in the tea now. I'll go grab the cups." he added the required amount and waited for it to be complete. He listened intently to the song you were humming...what was the name again? oh! it was one of fontaine's classics. After it was done, you two enjoyed the tea in silence. It was comforting since most of the days inside the Fortress of Meropide is spent is hustle and bustle and matters related to the maintenance and whatnot. Moments like these were sparse, but he thoroughly enjoyed the little time he spent with you.
BEIDOU
Once the crux fleets arrives at the harbour, the first place Beidou takes you to is Wangmin restaurant or to any other local food stalls there are in the liyue harbour. From the spiciest of dry braised fish or stew to sweet and savoury rice puddings or even the fanciest of rice wines. All of them in one night. "Haha! I hope you are enjoying today, love days like these might come after a long time! maybe even months!" and she proceeded to chug down her entire bottle of wine. "thanks for this day beidou, I love you" you said as you drank your own wine. It was a full moon night and the sky was brighter than on any other day. What an eventful day it was with the captain of the Crux fleet!
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lillaluna · 2 months
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how I met my cat
Pairing: Neuvillette, Ayato, Childe, Dottore, Zhongli, Pantalone, Itto x f!Reader
AYATO
Walking down one of Inazuma's streets, which was being lit up by the midday sun, Ayato spotted what he would say after "that misunderstanding" sitting on the edge of a wooden bridge, looking wistfully at the carp that were splashing in the clear water. The kitten looked like the very personification of sunshine. His red hair was sticking out in different directions, and his face was as silly as it was cute.
The guy froze for a while, following his gaze to the picture in the water, which the red kitten was studying with such care. The noise behind him attracted a small animal, but remarkably, he did not rush to run away, he just looked at Ayato's tall figure with his big green eyes, the size of a tea saucer. The poor kitten was so overzealous with raising his red head, due to the tall stature of a representative of the Kamisato clan, that he fell funny, turning a somersault, which made him look even more disheveled.
"How clumsy you are," Ayato said, and after taking one last look at the animal, he went about his business.
What was his surprise when he noticed a red-haired, disheveled spy who followed him from one planned place to another, and eventually escorted him to the Kamisato estate.
That day, Ayato ordered to feed his personal guest, as a reward for his perseverance and endurance, because he had come a really long way with his tiny paws. And then a terrible thing happened… Ayaka saw the kitten.
Ayato swears he has no affection for the silly ginger cat, but Toma, who works late into the night, often sees Yashiro, the head of the commission, allow the animal to nestle in his lap and soothe it with his purr.
PANTALONE
Pantalone left the restaurant, and the first thing that attracted him, even across the street, was a sprawled black spot that contrasted with the snow-covered street. While the man was putting on gloves, he saw how on the well-fed body of the "spot", which turned out to be a cat, black fur was waving from gusts of wind, but he stubbornly and motionlessly lay. At some point, Pantalone allowed the idea that the animal was frozen, but he was surprised enough when he saw a sluggish movement and a prolonged "meow" when a worried young girl came out of the shop in front of the cat and put a thick and fresh sausage in front of him. She cooed while squatting next to him, stroking his soft fur and saying how poor and unhappy he was. Pantalone chuckled and went home.
There might not have been anything remarkable in this story, but Regrator noticed the cat several more times, each time he left the restaurant, the animal lay motionless near the bench, waiting for his saviour.
"Sly," Pantalone said to himself and headed across the street.
Sitting down in front of the animal, the man smiled, because from this distance you could see thick, beautiful black fur, and the fact that the cat was very well-fed.
"Very clever," said the man again, and was about to leave when the cat opened his green eyes. Perhaps sensing that he was not going to get a handout from Pantalone, he did not meow as he usually did, but sat up gracefully and blinked a few times.
No matter how funny it sounded, Pantalone invited the cat to go with him, and no matter how funny it sounded, the cat agreed and gently trotted through the snow after his recognized master.
Despite the fact that the cat has been voluntarily domesticated and now needs nothing, he likes to sneak into the kitchen and act out scenes of "hungry" fainting in front of the cooks, who are happy to feed the sly cat.
The staff of the Pantalone estate often loses a cat and they go crazy looking for it, thinking that they have missed the beloved pet of one of the Harbingers, while the animal sleeps on its owner's clothes merging with it. As soon as Pantalone calls his pet by name, he fluffs his tail and goes to greet him or keep him company, purring peacefully during long working nights.
ITTO
The eccentric head of the Arataki gang was a second away from deciding to jump into the arms of Kuki Shinobu, who was walking next to him, when a small pack of yard dogs rushed at him from the alley, but he froze in surprise when he realized that they were dispersed … by a cat. A white, somewhat skinny cat with a torn right ear and piercing orange eyes. He drove the dogs away with unshakable confidence, accompanying all this with a shrill "meow".
"He's just a demon in cat form," Itto exclaimed mischievously, watching the cat disappear around the bend.
It took several days and all the skill of the Arataka gang to find the white cat, which, unfortunately for the members of the group, Itto was delighted with.
The found animal and the "drama lover" Arataki Itto quickly found a common language and stuck to each other. The cat loves to relax, like a fluffy collar, on the shoulders of its recognized owner, in some unthinkable way, It taught him to hunt beetles and look for only the best specimens for fighting.
Despite the fact that Kuki was skeptical about the appearance of the cat, even she relented when the sneaky cat began to bring them small goodies from nowhere. That's how he became a full member of the Arataka gang.
DOTTORE
Dottore had to go to Sumeru himself, in order to purchase components sold only there for his experiments. And it was there, in the market, that the man saw a white cat holding a mouse by the tail with a fluffy paw. Dottore froze and watched with interest what would happen next. In an instant, the cat easily lets the mouse go and desperately watches its well-aimed run.
"This is a failure," the man said to himself, already about to look away from the snow-white cat, as he looked at him, as if he had heard a remark. Multicolored eyes, one yellow and the other green, looked accusingly at the man, and with light leaps the graceful animal began to chase the mouse, which had just found hope of salvation.
Waving his fluffy tail, the cat was rapidly approaching the small rodent, playing with him in a feline version of hide-and-seek. Observation and dexterity do not give the poor mouse a chance. On the move again, the cat instantly grabs the mouse with its paws, which are glistening with snow-white fur.
This little game moment is full of energy and grace, and is a reflection of the sincere joy and enjoyment that the cat gets from his favorite mouse game. And it was after that that Dottore decided that the snow-white cat from the Sumeru market belonged to him.
ZHONGLI
Morax sat in one of the gazebos near Li Yue Harbour. The man was drinking fragrant tea in silence, watching the ships that were going on a long journey. Preferring to spend time in peace and quiet, Zhongli often chose this particular gazebo, on top of a fairly high mountain. Accustomed that no one would disturb him here, the man was extremely surprised to notice a majestic fluffy red cat lying on a smooth stone ledge enjoying the rays of the sun. His bright coat shone against the background of the surrounding green cover of nature. The cat stretched out relaxed, enjoying the pleasant peace.
It would seem that over the years of his life, Morax had seen many cats, but there was something subtly regal about it. Birds were flying around the cat, singing their songs. They felt safe next to this powerful, compared to them, animal, which never harmed harmless creatures. It seemed that the mice and birds knew that this cat was not just a predator, but also a patron, calmly allowing them to be in his vicinity.
However, one little mouse decides to test the limits of the exclusivity of its security. Sneaking up unnoticed, she approached the cat and, trying her luck, tries to bite him. But it was courage, for which the little girl paid dearly.
The cat, suddenly feeling the mouse's teeth on its fur, reacts reflexively to the attack. He instantly gets to his feet and easily deals with the rodent, leaving impressive evidence of his power in front of the others.
Raising his head in proud relief and dignity, the cat turned his gaze to Zhongli.
"You can't make concessions when there is a contract. If the contract is not followed, it will be violated," the man said and motioned for the animal to sit closer to him.
NEUVILLETTE
The judge already believed that he had committed the most reckless act in his entire life when he succumbed to Furina's persuasions to take a kitten from the shelter so that he would keep him company and he would not be so lonely.
Neuvillette often watched as a gray ball of fur, trying to catch its tail, bites it, from which it then meows plaintively, as it crashes into furniture from a running start, as it clumsily falls from all surfaces that it can reach. Sometimes it seemed to him that he had sheltered a kitten with a maximum of one brain cell. This playful prankster chases after him and clings to his clothes. He attacks Neuvillette from around the corner, hisses at his shadow and hiccups funny.
"You vaguely remind me of someone," states Neuvillette, taking the kitten in his arms to go with him to his office, because it seems to him that he does not want him to leave.
This is not the first time that Neuvillette's new pet stays with him at work, and all employees adore and gladly pamper this clumsy, cheerful and active ball of fur.
One day, coming home after a brutal trial, when it was raining heavily outside, Neuvillette found a picture that made his heart skip a beat. Somehow, the cat got stuck in a paper bag, and mewing piteously tried to run to him right in such a standing position. The rain has gradually subsided, and Fontaine's relentless judge can't help but smile when he has to tear open the package to free the kitten.
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catwhispers0 · 2 months
Text
✧༝┉˚*❋ Silly Pickup Lines ❋*˚┉༝✧
Featuring - 
Cyno, Al Haitham, Tighnari, Kaveh, Zhongli, Xiao, Scaramouche, Neuvillette, Wriothesley
gn reader - pronouns: you/your
Tw and authors note - might be a lil suggestive for some lines, i dont play genshin 😭😭 so if any of the characters are kinda goofy its cause im too poor for that game, ooc, bad grammar 😬 VERY LIGHTLY EDITED, annoying reader lol
minors shoo shoo as always
✧༝┉˚*❋ Cyno ❋*˚┉༝✧
“do you believe in love at first sight, or should i walk by again?”
finally, its my time to shine
“do you have a bandaid? because i scraped my knee falling for you.”
“are you a time traveler? because i see you in my future.”
“if we were socks, we would make a great pair.”
if anyone were nearby, they would be gone now. you would surely attract a crowd of people who appreciated the little pickup line competition more, if you werent in the middle of a library. 
“are you a loan? because youve got my interest.”
“if you were a vegetable, youd be a cute-cumber.”
that was the breaking point of the poor librarian, who hoped you two would just stop on your own. but nothing could stop you before you could fluster cyno, and he could go all day and night before he would fluster you. 
so, yea, yall got kicked out of the library, but at what cost? honestly, yall never stopped throwing terrible pickups at each other, much to the pain and disappointment of anyone around you (cough tighnari cough).
but depending on your strength against cynos charms, you may last either forever, or give cyno a new hobby of flustering you whenever and wherever he could.
✧༝┉˚*❋ Al Haitham ❋*˚┉༝✧
“do you have a name, or can i just call you mine?”
Al haitham just looked up from his book, confused. 
“i have a name, did you really forget it?”
well this was odd, he thought you were smarter than this. forgetting his name, really?? of all the things you could forget, his name was one of the most, no, THE most offensive one. 
maybe you tripped and hit your head on the way in. he didnt think you were the smartest person in sumeru, but surely you werent stupid enough to forget the scribes name. 
“no, i know your name, but can i call you mine?”
he somehow found a way to look even more confused. ‘can i call you mine’ who is ‘mine’?? oh. wait. mine!! 
by the time he finally realized, you walked away with a cheeky grin. he was left in the dust, flustered. and to think he thought you were dumb. 
now, how was he going to work for the rest of the day?
✧༝┉˚*❋ Tighnari ❋*˚┉༝✧
“arent you tired of running through my mind all day?”
he put his head in his hands in defeat, dropping the papers he was working on. with his ears flat against his head, he groaned. 
“...are you ok nari?” 
“no.”
“...”
after a moment, he looked up at you. he had a disappointed, dead-panned expression. his ears were still flat and he just stared at you, ridiculing you in awkward silence. 
he thought he would only have to deal with one idiot in a life time. why were you so..? annoying? no, thats not it. alluring? maybe… he didnt understand how through all of the shenanigans you pull him through, all the terrible jokes and one liners, youve sill managed to capture his heart and let him keep you around. so yea, alluring.
“... do you wanna hear another one?”
*sigh* “sure, but only if its good.”
his reluctance was apparent in his voice, but the agreement was a good sign. 
you gave it a beat of time to dig through your head for a clever one that would sweep tighnari off his feet. 
“i think i need to see an optometrist, because i cant keep my eyes off of you~.”
“...”
“...” “get out.”
“...ok”
✧༝┉˚*❋ Kaveh ❋*˚┉༝✧
“i must be in a museum, because youre a work of art.”
The architect nearly chokes on his drink and spits it out. you scramble to help him out of concern though there was little you could do in the first place. 
so pat him on the back awkwardly as he endeavors his coughing fit. sometime through the hacking, you notice it has shifted to laughter. 
“what are you laughing about?? are you ok??”
“-yea, im fine, you are just too cute! you caught me off guard.” 
with this, he picked you cheek adoringly. you gave him an incredulous look, this man really choked on his drink and now he demeans you? absolutely not. 
you turn on your heel and walk away after giving him a look of a mix of disappointment and exasperation. 
he follows quickly after to try and pester you for the rest of the day on ‘how adorable you are’.
✧༝┉˚*❋ Zhongli ❋*˚┉༝✧
“are you a geo user, because you rock my world! *wink*”
a small smile and a giggle does little to hide his growing flush. he looks away for a moment, letting your words settle in the air. 
why did you have to be so cute? and you look at him expectantly - waiting for a reaction. you didnt think he would fall that easily, hm?
-though, he does appreciate a challenge. 
sure, hes heard plenty of one-liners in his time, most when and about his dragon or archon forms. but he didnt expect you to exchange one with him, he doesnt know what to do or how to feel. 
“you are something, my dear. are you hungry? its about time for my lunch break, i thought you wouldnt mind the offer, seeing as you seem to want to sweep me away so badly.”
“something?” 
what was that supposed to mean? a good something or a bad something? his reaction did little to answer, but you took him up on his offer. maybe tomorrow you would get him. 
gotta keep that old man on his toes afterall. 
✧༝┉˚*❋ Xiao ❋*˚┉༝✧
“are you an adeptus, because youve reached a depth of my heart.”
at first, Xiao thought it was some adepti pun, but as the day went on, he wasnt so sure. 
it had become such an issue, the yaksha had began pacing around with his finger to his chin and a furrowed brow. 
he was overthinking it, he knew that, but he needed to know what it meant to be in a “depth of your heart”. did you mean it as friendly dialogue? or was there something more…? 
was this a sign? a hint? a clue? a puzzle? he didnt know. how could you do this to him, what is he supposed to make of this?
could you have put him in a depth of your heart that noone else was? Perhaps it was wishful thinking. archons, why were mortals so complicated?! 
by the time he had worked himself up to confront you about the issue that plagued his heart, the sun set and the stars had risen. 
‘maybe tomorrow then, ill let you rest for now.’ he thought as he watched you sleep peacefully, protected. 
✧༝┉˚*❋ Scaramouche ❋*˚┉༝✧
“im not a photographer, but i can picture us together.”
*silence*
“scara?”
“no.”
“what?”
“no, you are not doing this.”
aaaand he walks away…
as much as you try to talk to him after that, he avoids you. it doesnt last long though, maybe 2-3 days. 
still, not very nice. you knew he wasnt the best person in the communication department, but wow.
anytime you tried to bring it up, he would shoot it down or avoid confrontation. 
how nice would it be if he would just tell you if he was uncomfortable with teasing like that? 
with all the teasing he makes you go through, you would think he could endure some himself. maybe he wasnt used to it though, or maybe you connection with him didnt abide by the rules of hypocracy. 
maybe you should shun him back? a taste of his own medicine. 
so thats how you ended up with indigo eyes piercing into you soul. as soon as you gave him any hint of a cold shoulder, his disappeared. 
hes a stubborn man, he wont just go talk to you like a normal person. and all this over a cheesy pickup line. 
its more than that though, the way he treats you is much more that what he can handle himself. be gentle on him, he doesnt know these things. 
he doesnt know this feeling that arises every time he looks at you, when you say his name in that pretty voice of yours, the faces and reactions you make that are too precious for anyone else to see. 
so when you hit him with a one-liner, maybe the feeling is too unbearable for the guy. 
go reassure him, he needs it. 
✧༝┉˚*❋ Neuvillette ❋*˚┉༝✧
“your lips look lonely, can mine keep them company?”
Neuvillette nearly dies on the spot. this is the most romantic gesture hes ever heard of - he loves poetry, you know.
“why of course, my love.”
okay
okay, you just kissed the chief justice of fontaine. wow wow wow cool cool okay dont freak out. 
his face is still so close to yours - hairs away. his eyes meet yours, full of love and adoration. 
his lips are still parted, you can feel his breath against your lips. 
they were soft and gentle. would he mind if you went in for another? surely not..?
and just amd you closed your eyes, they were startled open. a melusine opened the door and interrupted your moment. 
oh well, how could you be mad when the look neuvillette snuck you screamed 'meet me again and we can pick up where we left off'.
✧༝┉˚*❋ Wriothesley ❋*˚┉༝✧
“you should lock yourself up, ya know, stealing is prohibited. “
he plays along immediately, smiling, but doesnt lift his eyes from his paperwork. 
“and i am so very sorry for your lunch, perhaps you could let me go with a fine, my generous love?”
your lunch? oh, hes gonna pay for this! you didnt even know about it until now, too! 
“my lunch?! what did you do to it?!” 
he looks up finally. 
“you dont know? oh well never mind dont think about it, love. its for… the better…”
how mysterious. if you could deadpan him harder, you would. 
“...so, what else did i steal?”
the audacity.
“well if you have to know, it was going to be cute and romantic, i was going to say you stole my heart but you can just give it right back, along with your lunch.”
and you walk away, off to check where you put your food. 
some wishful thinking said that he was just joking for a bit, but knowing him, you cant always be sure…
---------
if u want any other characters, drop a request in my mail/ask box ❤️❤️
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it-happened-one-fic · 6 months
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Special Delivery - Wriothesley
Author Notes: It has been a journey in learning how to spell this man's name. This fic honestly just sort of happened. I didn't have a song I listened to while I wrote it and didn't really exactly have an idea either, outside of the fact that I've always though guys should get flowers just like girls. After all, flowers are pretty. I leave it up to you to decide what sort of flower was gifted here though. As per usual, Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!
Type: Gender-Neutral Reader/ Fluff/ Flirtation/ Teasing
Word Count: 1308
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Just as it was with other nations, there were many, many different jobs and positions that one could hold in Fontaine.
But yours was very unique.
It wasn’t that you were anything nearly so grandiose as the receptionist to the revered Iudex or the widely-beloved Archon. And you also didn’t work for the Spina de Rosula or The Steambird.
No. You didn’t hold a position quite that illustrious. Instead, you were a delivery person.
You delivered ingredients, bandages, medicine, and, yes, even teas to the infamous Fortress of Meropide. After all, while such commodities were the norm of the Overworld, finding the same goods at the bottom of the sea was hardly possible. So you delivered them. Sometimes making two to three runs between the sunny upper side of Fontaine and the dark prison hidden in the depths.
 Your delivery runs were always waited for with bated breath by the people within the massive prison complex. Especially when the denizens of the depths knew you were going to be bringing special commodities, such as books for Sigewinne sent from Monsieur Neuvillette himself.
You strolled through the metal hallways with purpose as you went to make your final delivery for the day, and no one looked twice as you marched right up to the warden’s office and went in with barely even a pause.
Most inmates had no clue as to what you might be delivering to the duke who guarded these halls. You almost always had to make a stop at his office, though, and most preferred not to think too hard about what might be in the box you were carrying.
But, despite their fears, you held nothing quite so terrifying as what they might suspect. In fact, the box you held against your hip always held the exact same thing. Namely, tea.
To be fair, he usually requested an assortment of varying teas, but the regularity of his orders was somewhat concerning, and it might be worth mentioning to Sigewinne as to whether excessive consumption of tea could be detrimental to his health.
You walked up the steps silently as you entered the well-appointed office that you were now quite used to. Though you did have to wonder where the man in question hid his doubtlessly impressive tea stash since all the shelves of his bookcases were filled with books.
“There you are,” Wriothesley’s pale eyes immediately lifted from where he’d been looking at a stack of papers so that he was looking up to where you’d appeared at the top of the staircase as he stood from behind his desk. Almost like he’d been waiting for you. Or rather, more than likely, his beloved tea.
He walked around the desk with a slight smile as he met you halfway and accepted the box from your arm before immediately sitting it down so that he might peer inside at its contents. And you waited patiently as his gaze scanned container after container of fine tea and tea blends, nodding approvingly at certain intervals before he at last looked your way once more, “Perfect as always.”
There was a subtly teasing lilt to his voice that had you smiling before you shifted and revealed what you’d been hiding behind your back with that hand that had not been occupied by tea.
“Special delivery,” You announced cheerily as Wriothesley’s gaze darted between the potted plant in your hand and you. His expression shifting amusingly from curiosity to confusion.
After a brief moment of silence, he sighed, almost as if surrendering, “Y/n, you’re gonna have to help me here. I’m not the most well-versed in the language of flowers, but is this some form of hate mail from the House of Hearth or something?”
You rolled your eyes before handing the fully bloomed flower to him, “No, Sigewinne’s been telling me about how you’ve been staying holed up in your office, and you’ve mentioned that you rarely get to see flowers since you’re usually stuck down here in the fortress. I bought this for you to try and brighten the place up,” You gestured widely to the room as you finished, still smiling at the man who continued to stare at you.
“So you bought this for me?” He clarified with raised eyebrows, causing you to nod in amusement before you saw the glimmer that entered his eyes at your wordless response. A small, childish part of you whispered that you never should’ve entertained the thought of buying him a gift, but you ignored such thoughts.
Instead, you focused on the man in front of you as you braced for whatever it was he was going to say next.
“Well, something coming as a gift from you certainly is a ‘special delivery,’ but I must say, you’ve done what most can’t. You’ve surprised me, Y/n.” He paused, eyeing you closely, before pressing a hand to his chest with a grin slipping onto his face, “I never expected you to try and woo me.”
Somehow, you weren’t even surprised by his words as you leaned relaxedly against his desk and sat the gift down, causing the flower to bob lightly. “And what makes you think that this is me wooing you?”
He leaned forward, that grin still on his face as he spoke once more, “Isn’t that what gifts of flowers usually mean?”
Unperturbed by his teasing, you tilted your head, “Weren’t you the one who just implied that this plant was flower-coded hate mail to start with? And flowers are common get-well-soon gifts anyway; they don’t necessarily have anything to do with romance or wooing.”
“But I’m not sick,” He was quick to point out his apparently good health almost immediately. Straightening with an almost smug grin that had you shaking your head slightly.
You smiled at him innocently, though, automatically reminding him of Siegwinne’s concerns regarding his habit of holing himself up in his office, “But Sigewinne is worried.” 
He mimicked your motions, propping against the desk and half-caging you in with his body but still leaving your escape open, “Is this why you've been delivering such especially high-quality teas?”
You grinned slightly, despite yourself, at the man before you gestured lightly to the now abandoned box that sat on his desk next to him, “That’s the brand you always request, Lord Duke.”
His title slipped off your tongue easily, and you stared at each other silently. Wearing matching grins and similarly bright eyes as you each waited for the other one to make the next move.
After a moment, though, he shrugged and leaned back. Seemingly giving up even though that tell-tale glimmer still hadn’t left his eyes, “If you say so. I still find it suspicious, though.”
You held out his receipt for the delivery, watching as he took and signed it obediently before handing it back over. You accepted the slip of paper, having to actually tug it out of his hand as his gaze held yours with that persistently amused smile. But this was becoming a steadily more common set of interactions with you. A careful dance of teasing that he almost always slipped some form of flirtation into. 
You were still smiling as you finally managed to free the paper from his grasp without it tearing and without having to grasp it with both hands and yank it out of his hand, “Duly noted.”
He snorted slightly at your words but didn’t respond, and with that you were on your way. Not stopping until you were outside of his office and being greeted by Sigewinne.
“Did he like the flower?” The Melusine’s eyes were wide with giddy curiosity, and you paused. 
A smile flickered across your face as thought back to Wriotheseley’s amused grin, teasing tone, and glimmering eyes before you nodded, feeling oddly satisfied with yourself, “You know, I believe he did.”
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primoredial-jade · 4 months
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to you, 500 years from now.
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" i wonder if you remember me as i was. sometimes, i think of those days. do you? " —dishonored
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prompt: he wishes to see you again one day, in a world that is kinder for a soul as beautiful as yours.
pairing: neuvillette x gn!reader
cw: reincarnation alternate universe, heavy themes and depictions of death, neuvillette story quest spoilers, fontaine archon quest spoilers, a light-hearted scene sprinkled in, reader is an oceanid in their past life, reader is a geoscientist in their current life
as a part of @seraphiism's 2023 writing event 🤍 merry christmas!
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500 years ago.
seldom did visitors grace the presence of the hydro dragon.
adorned with shimmering scales that reflected the hues of the deepest ocean, piercing violet eyes that sparkled like the shiniest amethysts, and hailed as one of the strongest sovereigns of the world– his reputation preceded him. thus, the hydro dragon chose to live in seclusion in the salacia plains.
time worked differently for a being such as him. in a momentary lapse, the hydro dragon had shut his eyes for what he thought was a brief respite, only to be roused by the gentle murmur of bubbling water. as his eyes fluttered open, he remained unaware that several years had slipped away during his tranquil slumber.
with seemingly no fear at being in the presence of the hydro dragon, a beautiful oceanid floated before him, blowing bubbles in his direction. twirling around him, the oceanid radiated a warmth that the hydro dragon could not resist. drawn by the mesmerizing glow of his scales, the oceanid came closer.
the hydro dragon sat up in his full form, extending his wings and towering over the oceanid, gauging its reaction. he knew he was terrifying like this. the oceanid did not flee in fear, rather, gazed up at him in amazement and wonder.
"what is your name?" the hydro dragon asks.
you offer it to him, easily.
days turned into nights into years as the hydro dragon finally had someone to call his companion. you followed him everywhere he went, offering him countless condessence crystals on your trips, "because it resembles your eyes."
with time, the hydro dragon had discovered a love that transcended ordinary within you.
fate, as cruel as it could be, had other plans. the heavenly principles had descended to wage war against the seven sovereigns. the hydro dragon urged you to stay away, to not get involved. yet, you refused, promising that you would never leave his side.
the heavenly principles, having sensed the unconventional bond between the hydro dragon and his oceanid, instantly killed you before the hydro dragon could even think to intervene. dying in his hands, you apologized.
"hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry," you murmur, placing one last condessence crystal in his palm.
filled with agony and rage, the hydro dragon unleashed his elemental fury upon the heavenly principles.
still, it wasn't enough. he couldn't save you, he couldn't avenge you, and now, he was to also perish by the hands of fate.
as he lay dying with the condessence crystal in his hand, he wishes to see you again one day. in a world that is kinder, and more forgiving for a soul as beautiful as yours.
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500 years later.
the stars are keeping you up tonight.
ever since furina had given up her position as the hydro archon and the prophecy was deemed to be untrue, you had felt a shift within yourself that you could not really explain. when you had been enveloped by the water of the primordial sea, you had felt... at home. tranquil, even.
fontaine's winter festivities were in full swing, and the city's lights twinkle slow as children zip past you through the streets. red and green decorations are adorned on every wall and lamp post. you raise a hand to catch a delicate snowflake– rarely did snow ever reach fontaine, but it was a welcomed change for the season.
you shiver, pulling your coat closer to your neck. it was probably reckless to be out this late when the night was this chilly, but you just couldn't shake the feeling of having to be out here. something was pulling you here, but you didn't know what.
"good evening," a voice calls your name and you startle, hand over your heart. you turn to meet piercing violet eyes and an easygoing smile, one that you meet sheepishly.
"good evening, monsieur neuvillette," you answer, inadvertently straightening your posture.
"i thought it was you i saw..." neuvillette trails off, clearing his throat. he gestures up to the palais mermonia, quite a ways away. you tilt your head in bewilderment.
"you could see me from there?"
"well, not at first," he answers, lightly tapping his cane on the floor. "you could say it was instinct, perhaps. i cannot find the words to really explain it, but it had to be you."
you would be lying if you said that one of the reasons as to why you had felt so on edge since the flooding didn't have anything to do with neuvillette.
as a geoscientist investigator for the marechaussee phantom, most of your interactions in the past had been strictly professional in solving cases and exonerating or indicting those on stand. after the failed prophecy, neuvillette had begun to seek you out for casual conversation. of course, you welcomed it. you were easily drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.
something about the way he had interacted with you since then with a longing gaze in his eyes had you feeling as if he knew something that you didn't.
it did not do any favors to your heart. he was a gorgeous man with a kind and respectful personality to boot.
you shouldn't get this excited about him finding you, but your blood thumping in your ears betrays you.
"ah- i see... it's funny you say that, because, well- likewise," you manage to say, flustered and feeling the urge to bolt on the spot.
neuvillette smiles at you, nodding toward the brightly lit street. "would you take a walk with me?"
speechless, you nod. what would fontaine think seeing you strolling around town with neuvillette this late at night, shoulders so close?
"there are a few stands around with festive goods and the likes. there's actually a..." you pause, a sudden memory making you laugh, "a water taste-testing booth made by your fanclub. would you want to check it out?"
neuvillette's eyebrows raise in amusement. "it would be my pleasure. i had not even been aware i harbored a fanclub."
you absentmindedly lean closer to his side, "well, you are quite popular among fontainians, monsieur neuvillette. many of them admire you for everything you have done for fontaine."
"and what about you?" his eyes meet yours expectantly.
you're caught off guard by his teasing. ears burning, you focus your attention on the path. "well, of course, i do too," you mumble. you can't see it, but he smiles.
a brightly lit booth in blue finally comes into view. its banner reads, "water around the world!" with a small, cute drawing of neuvillette's face in the corner.
"surely that's breaking a law in copyright infringement?" you joke.
"the oratrice would surely find them guilty," he nods, and you cannot suppress your laugh.
"hello, and welcome to- monsieur neuvillette?!" the teenager running the stand jumps out of her seat at the sight. she sputters, waving her hands around frantically. "it- it's so nice to see you, monsieur! are you interested in trying out some of the water we've collected?" her outburst spawns members of neuvillette's fanclub whispering excitedly behind her, to your amusement.
"i would be delighted to, along with my companion, if you would be so kind." he gestures to you, and it is only now that the fanclub seems to notice you. a few of them audibly gasp, and you already feel the dread of having your name front and center on the steambird come tomorrow morning. "monsieur neuvillette and the esteemed geoscientist: on a late-night excursion?"
they're quick to place multiple cups of water in front of you. respectively labeled cider lake, samudra coast, dadaupa gorge, sal terrae, and the suigetsu pool. neuvillette takes the one from cider lake, swirling it, and taking a leisurely sip not unlike wine. he hums, encouraging you to take your sip as well.
as you go down the line, truthfully you cannot tell much difference between them all. but, your heart warms seeing neuvillette take this very seriously, to the delight of his fanclub.
"did you like them?" you ask as you both depart from the booth, truly curious.
neuvillette nods, a smile on his face. "they all tasted quite fresh."
you cannot repress your own grin at his honesty. "i'm glad, monsieur neuvillette."
as the snow gets heavier and the night turns darker, booths begin to shut their lights down with people scurrying back to their abodes. you get the occasional double take at being with the chief justice, of course.
you watch neuvillette as he slows to a stop to stare up into the sky. delicate snowflakes fall into his long hair and eyelashes, and yet he seems completely unbothered by the cold. he's beautiful.
you heart suddenly aches in a way that feels like the breath has totally escaped you. the feeling is so unknown that you wonder if this moment is even real at all.
you'd had nightmares about it that you didn't dare tell a soul, of how you had died once. it was impossible- unfathomable.
but if it was, then how could you vividly remember in your last moments the feeling of being held by warm, protective hands?
neuvillette is already looking at you when you come to, like he knows.
"maybe we should call it a night." your voice is thinned.
neuvillette takes a step closer. "may i?"
you can only nod, breath hitching. he's standing closer than how he usually allows himself to be. you move, but one of his hands lift to gently cup your cheeks.
instantly, tears begin to well up in your eyes. his touch feels so familiar. "i'm sorry," you whisper.
with his free hand, neuvillette unclips the brooch at his neck and places it in your hand. seeing it up this close, your eyes widen.
"this is a condessence crystal."
neuvillette's eyes meet your own. he closes both of your hands around the crystal, and you see white.
"what is your name?"
"it resembles your eyes."
"i love you."
"i won't ever leave your side."
"don't leave me by myself."
"hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry."
your knees suddenly grow weak, but neuvillette is quick to catch you.
your mind is running at a thousand miles a minute, swirling with questions that repeat themselves in your head, what is wrong with you, what is wrong with him, what is wrong with fate.
"so it is real," he finally says, eyes so solemn yet relieved. his words, resolute and cutting, make you still.
"i– what is?"
"us."
you didn't realize that you needed to hear it from him to finally understand. his eyes are darting across your face, trying to get a read on your expression.
"ever since i was given my authority back on the day of the prophecy, i remembered everything of our past life together, traversing across the seas of the teyvat," he explains, thumbing a stray tear that escaped your eye.
“for a long time, i wondered why i had this when i was reborn into this form,” he squeezes your hand with the condessence crystal, “and then it all made sense.”
"i remember now too," you say, "neuvillette, i remember."
this world is much kinder for a soul that is as beautiful as yours.
"would you give it a chance?" he asks.
"why, neuvillette?"
"because i know," his beautiful eyes don't falter from your own. "i know of the one life i spent where i lost you."
the chill that runs up your spine is not from the cold.
"and now, i have finally found you again."
you don't know who moves first, but his lips are on yours in the next breath you take. you are anguished, confused, happy, at peace.
even in the snow and the pretty lights, all you can see is him.
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toasteaa · 3 months
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Neuvillette is in love with the concept of love; he just never thought he'd experience the complexity of it himself. Or rather, he'd never thought you'd make him experience it like this.
Of course, that in itself is a rather broad concept. He's not unfeeling; he knows what certain aspects of love feel like, or at least, what humans around him have described as love. If you were to ask anyone that observes him with a human's eye, they'd tell you "Monsieur Neuvillette loves a lot of things".
"Monsieur Neuvillette loves the melusines, I always see him talking to them!" - not untrue, but not so much love as it is a general appreciation in his eyes. And much less the kind of love he has in mind. "Monsieur Neuvillette loves water the most! He has cabinets full of imported bottles in his office!" - elements of truth and fancy. A necessary (if a bit self indulgent) requirement for his continued health. You wouldn't go as far as to say you love air, would you? The concept is the same.
No, when Neuvillette thinks of love it's the kind he sees in couples on the streets of Fontaine. Hands held fast together, or a guiding hand in the small of one's back. Shy smiles and ruddy cheeks. Parted lips and gleaming eyes; a hopeful and expectant look before a kiss. The very image of romance that Lady Furina's novels would outline - novels that he's sure at this point, were left in his office by the former Archon in order to...guide him in a way.
And what poor guides those proved to be when it came to these...affections he has for you.
In those stories, it was simple. Understandable to an extent. The numerous versions and retellings of the same themes and tropes created a kind of cadence in his mind; an easy to digest pattern where one act of courting follows another in a beat-by-beat fashion. It's formulaic. An art perfected by years of practiced and perfected behaviors only menially guided by instinct.
Then why, Neuvillette often finds himself wondering, is it so difficult when it comes to applying that same formula to you?
Is it his tone? His behavior? Or has he made a general mistake with his leaps in assuming you might feel the same way as him? Your relationship with him is far less professional than when it started, yes, but that is the nature of working with someone long term. The expectation of professionality can only last so long, even with someone of his standing. This is something he's accustomed to. These developing feelings are not.
Even his attempts at more directly physical advances have proved unfruitful. If anything, the way you startled and stammered before returning to your work after he'd merely brushed a stray hair from your temple dissuaded him from ever attempting such a thing again.
And yet...the hint of heat in your cheeks at the action made him curious. Makes him...hopeful. If he was reading this correctly (and on his name as the Sovereign did he hope he was reading this correctly) then that could mean...well, it could imply mutual attraction.
Which has lead him to his current dilemma. He's spent days debating with himself, weighing his options, and attempting to reason that this warmth he feels around you is enough to allow him a brief break in his impartiality.
But then if he breaks here, where else would he break?
And would it be so wrong if he did? To pursue you, to court you, love you -
It stirs other emotions in him. Ones of excitement, of rage, of something deep and primal in his chest that has been buried deep after centuries of solitude - even amongst the people of Fontaine.
He wants this. He wants to experience this budding love in all its confusing facets. Wants to test the waters he's grown so accustomed to guarding and let himself feel something so innately alien to him. So...human.
Perhaps this is a trial left in place specifically for himself. To love and to be loved in return...it's almost enough to make him cry.
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logicaltips · 10 months
Text
Justice is blind
Warning: Contains imagery of execution
"Order! Order in the court!"
With a slam of the gavel, Furina silenced the rowdy courtroom.
As the restless jury and witnesses settled down, the Hydro Archon cleared her throat.
"Citizens of Fontaine!" Her usually authoritative voice showed signs of eagerness in it.
"Before you stands a criminal, nay, a heretic, with a crime so heinous that no court on Teyvat has a sentence for it: the taking of the All Divine's face!"
With a wave of her hand, the curtains surrounding the defendant's table unfurled themselves back to reveal a bound figure, kneeling between two bailiffs.
"As all devotees should know!" Furina pointed an accusing finger at the Imposter. "To impersonate the Creator is a crime of the highest magnitude! No sentence is too great for this heretic! However, fate has called upon the fair and just courts of Fontaine to judge this case! In the name of their Grace, we shall decide the most suitable punishment for this sinner, to enact the ultimate justice that will stand through all of time!"
Cheers erupted from the stands and jury box, drowning out the Imposter's pathetic whimper for salvation from behind the gag that silenced them.
Furina slammed the gavel down once more.
"Silence! This court is now in session! Neuvillette! Call the first witness!"
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"When they first came to me, their face shined like the sun! It was almost blinding to look at!"
"Their voice soothed my heart and before I knew it, I followed their every command! There's foul magic at play, I just know it!"
"I've felt the Creator's holy presence before. I alongside others have traveled far to complete tasks in their glorious name and I know for a fact that this... abomination that stands before us can't be further from the Creator themselves! Your Majesty, surely you know what the aura of the Creator feels like!"
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The courtroom was silent as all eyes fell upon their Archon, still deep in thought.
After a brief moment, Furina turned towards the courtroom and gave a sinister smile.
"I have decided the most fitting punishment for this Imposter! To the guillotine!
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The fountain plaza was completely packed as almost all the people within the city gathered to see the momentous event.
Some chattered eagerly, some prepared their kameras to immortalize the instant the blade swung down, while others sat on mats and enjoyed a picnic.
Then, their Archon finally stepped onto the platform with a skip in her step.
"Witness me, Your Grace!"
Furina gleefully pranced around the restrained Imposter.
"Witness me, as I, Focalors, and the people of Fontaine, cleanse this beautiful world of its filthiest sinner, in your name!"
Before the Imposter could even say their last worlds, Furina's rapier slashed through the rope next to the guillotine, releasing its deadly payload.
As the blade soared down, Furina closed her eyes and felt utter ecstasy shudder through her body.
Chunk
Fwump
Furina heard something land in the basket in front of her. She had done it! The Divine Grace's face is sullied no longer!
Furina spread her arms wide open to welcome the cheers of her people-
But the celebration never arose.
An uncomfortable silence was all she heard as she slowly opened her eyes.
"What's wrong? This is a moment for celebration! Not-"
Furina stopped as her eyes wandered over to the guillotine, then down onto the liquid gold that stained its blade.
"Oh."
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lilisgardensblog · 8 months
Text
~Otter Neuvillette~
fluff, confessing to each other; ty for the idea anon🫶🏼
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Ignoring the small drops of rain, you were taking an unusual detour to work by the sea to help you calm down. You were over your head buried in stress and the sea always helped you. Feeling the soft sand and hearing the sea were the best remedy for it. But beside the melody of the sea you heard something unusual. Like a soft...cry?
Looking around you saw it. A little otter with one of it's little hands hurt. You approached it carefully not to scare it. "Hi, little otter. Please don't cry, I'll help you." you said before petting the otter to help it calm down. And as the sobs came to an end so did the rain apparently. What a great coincidence. You were thankful for the rain stopping since it rained all night and all morning.
"Can I take a look?" you asked the otter. The little one looked into your eyes and let you see the paw. It seemed like a bruise made by a big maybe even sharp rock. But you weren't sure if it was a rock or some trash people throw in the sea. You sighed before talking to yourself "I really need to speak with Monsieur about this....Oh I should go ask him, I'm sure he knows more about otters than I do." You end your monologue and return your attention to the otter. "Well how about we pay a visit to Monsieur? I'm sure you'll love him...as much as I do." you whispered the last part, still shy about your unconfessed feelings. The otter rests happily in your arms as you return to the Court of Fontaine to look for Neuvillette.
After he was nowhere to be found at the Opera you returned to your house to take care of the now sleeping otter in your arms. You place the little one on your bed, the action waking the otter up. "Sorry for waking you.... sigh I need to find you a name. Hmm...how about...Ottie? Ottie the little otter sounds adorable just like you." you smile booping the little otter's nose. Ottie smiled back at you as you went to find some bandages to take care of that wound.
"Well now Ottie, can I see your paw again?" slightly unsure, the otter stretches its' paw for you to see. You carefully bandage it as Ottie tries to hold back a whine. "Sorry,mon cher, this will only last a moment." At your affectionate nickname the otter seemed to relax and you were quickly done with the bandages. "There! You were a good boy, mon cher. Maybe I should reward you." You giggle as you pick up the otter to peak its' nose.
But as soon as your lips touched Ottie's small nose, the little otter suddenly was standing in front of you, one head taller, with silky white hair and long blue horns and a visible pink coloring his cheeks.
"Monsieur..." you sigh and take a step back, almost falling over from the shock.
"Careful, mon amour!" Neuvillette said as he quickly caught you by the waist and was now face to face with you.
Both of you were speechless looking into each other's eyes before Neuvi retreated his hand and clearing his throat murmured a small apology. "Pardon me, y/n, I didn't mean to overstep any boundaries..." you nod as he keeps going "And thank you. For taking care of me... or Ottie as you called my otter form." He smiles at the adorable name, clearly enjoying it. "I have to apologize, if I knew it was you Monsieur I wouldn't have..."
"Hmm? You wouldn't have what now? Gave me the cutest nickname? Wouldn't have said your feelings back at the beach? Wouldn't kiss me?" he smiles while waiting for you to answer.
"Monsieur are you perhaps... teasing me?" You're a bit taken aback by this side of Neuvillette but certainly not displeased. "But...yes"
"Mhm, I see. What if I told you you're not the only one feeling that way, mon amour?"
"I'm not?You mean..?" you ask, your voice full of hope.
"Most certainly, I do feel the same, mon amour. I was merely...scared to confess...scared you won't feel the same. I'm not the best at expressing my feelings, but I am glad to find out you share the feeling."
You laugh and hug Neuvillette. " Monsieur, fret not, I am laughing at my own situation. But it's a relief laugh, I am glad we both share the feeling. Now... what shall we do with this feeling, hmm?~" You smile while resting your hands on his chest and looking into those lavender eyes. "Well I- I'm not certain of the next action, maybe marriage?"
"Monsieur, as I appreciate the boldness maybe a dinner would be appropriate before a marriage?" you smile at Neuvillette as he blushes embarrassed "Yes, that would be the best approach to a future together, wouldn't it?How about now?" you shake your head giggling "So formal, Monsieur.Let me get ready for our dinner then."
Before turning around to go change, you raise yourself on your tip toes to kiss his nose. You peak now blushing Neuvillette's nose and turn around on your heels to go change.
Finally after all those months, you and Neuvillette.... it feels surreal.
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decayical · 7 months
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@ — you might be a sinner . . . !
❛ being wriothesley's assistant ❜
01 notes: 💥💥💥
02 tws/tags: vibrator, oral (m receiving), pet names (dear, darling, love), wriothesley is lowkey a little shit, afab reader
03 mdni blogs do not interact!
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you sat on the ground uncomfortably, your hands digging into his thighs as you moved your hips against nothing.
"sir... i don't see how this is supposed to help you with your work."
ever since you moved to fontaine, you were mesmerized by how much technology had advanced in the county compared to others. even the fortress of meropide, which was buried under the sea, had technology you had never seen before. it was brimming to the edge with potential, every single machine catching your attention before you were whisked away to your duties again.
"well you'll have to trust me darling, because it will."
even this small thing, located inside of your pussy, was something you had never considered before.
a whimper escaped from your mouth as wriothesley turned up the settings just a smidge, you heard him scoff as you gasped and teared up.
he chuckles. "my my, can my pet not even handle a bit of pleasure? seems we might have to stop now before it gets too much," he hummed, resting his head on his knuckles.
"mister wriothesley," you whine. you press your lips together in an attempt to stay quiet as you struggle to keep your eyes open and your head up.
the tent in his pants moved and caught your eye. nervously, you brought up your hands to his hips, looking up at him as you bit your trembling lip.
he stares down at you with a blank expression, only leaning down to wipe a tear—or maybe a drop of sweat—off your cheek. "are you enjoying yourself?" he asks simply, his thumb rolling up the settings of the thing inside of you even higher.
you gasp and jolt, rocking your hips into thin air as you throw your head back. "ahh—mister wriothesley—y-your turn."
his voice is slightly mocking. "hmm? what was that? i can't hear you." he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your forehead, watching carefully as you lost your composure.
it was only when you managed to lift a shaky hand to his bulge did he suck in a breath, his grip on his chair and the remote getting tighter. you felt his dick jump in its confines, and tugged on his zipper as much as you could while your brain struggled to think about anything but the sweet feeling inside your walls.
"wriothesley, wriothesley, wriothesley—ahn!" your vision momentarily blurred out and you could barely make out the expression on wriothesley's face—one that seemed bored. or at least, he would seem unaffected if it weren't for the drops of sweat falling from his temple and the way he tried so hard to control his labored breathing.
he stared as your cum fell down from your sticky thighs and onto the floor and he frowned. he'd have to get a human janitor to clean this mess up; surely monsieur neuvillette wouldn't appreciate it if his dear melusines discovered what he was doing with all this time in the prison.
your nails dug into his thigh as you bunched up your shirt in your other hand, breathing heavily as you came down from your high.
with half lidded eyes you look up and smile clumsily when wriothesley finally unzips his pants and lets his cock spring out. greedy hands make their way to the base of it and despite your delirium, you can't wait to choke on it just like you did the last time you were here.
wriothesley lets out a low groan as you lick a stripe up his dick, a gloved hand falling on top of your head with a thump.
"fuck, yeah just like that—"
he doesn't mean to, and you know he doesn't, but he thrusts his hips and the tip of his dick reaches the back of your mouth. you jolt, sucking in air through your nose as the tip nudges your throat.
despite his boring and simple exterior, despite his one word answers to questions and the way he goes about his day with no complexities, somehow when he's with you he loses his entire demeanor and turns into a puddle of mush. every word he doesn't say out suddenly spills out of his lips as soon as he manages to get his dick inside of you—why, you must be magic.
his hand leaves your hair to caress your cheek, the back of his finger lingering on your cheekbone. "shit—shit. sorry, love, i…" he runs his hand across his face as he sighs. hurting his plaything wouldn't be good at all, now would it?
you take the opportunity to envelop his dick in your mouth again, taking as much as you can before moving to leave only his thick tip in your mouth. with a pop, you look up at him with fluttering eyes.
carding a hand through your hair, he asks breathlessly, "what a good toy you are… everything about you, from your mouth to your holes were made for me, weren't they?" you bend down to continue sucking him off and he moans loudly. he groans, throwing his head back. "fuck… you're amazing."
he hides his bleary eyes with an arm, allowing himself to become fully vulnerable towards you as he lets out pretty moans and soft breaths. somehow his free hand wanders back to the control of your (your) vibrator, even as he thrusts weakly into your warm and wet mouth.
your overeager hands and mouth make him nearly drop it, but he gets to turn the vibrator back on and get back to fixing on your pretty face.
as you feel the toy turn on again, you gasp and whine around his dick. a hand that had wandered to one of his balls drags its nails across his thigh, and you have to force yourself to focus on the length in your mouth to stop yourself from becoming weak as jelly again.
wriothesley, of course, notices your struggling. "don't—don't tell me i'll have to pull you jo by your… your um, hair to get you to suck me off properly," he jokes weakly, tugging on your hair lightly. his words got sloppy and rough as his brain began fogging up.
your lips glaze over his tip again, your tongue following right behind it. you rub small circles into his inner thigh as you start sucking on small, specific parts of his cock to make his hips jerk up into you.
a hand races up to your head. "ah, haah, ahhn—love, please, i'm so close, fuck, please, please, i—"
he gasps, and at the last second you swallow his dick again and he's pushed over the edge, his load spilling into your mouth and just a bit falling off your lips.
you catch the drop of cum before it falls onto the floor and stick your finger into your mouth happily. "you taste good," you hum, closing your eyes and smiling.
wriothesley sighs and rests his head on his knuckles again, looking down at your disheveled form. his expression has returned to serious, stoic, and unreadable.
seems like you won't be getting demoted anytime soon.
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stxneflxwers · 7 months
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⋯⁂ a/n. yeah uh. my hands are always cold during these autumn/winter months. so. uhm. haha yeah. this was written spur of the moment.
⋯⁂ characters. neuvillette. gn reader.
⋯⁂ cw. MDNI/SMUT. unprompted handjob. temperature play (kinda). subby neuvi. reader has the coldest hands in teyvat (/j...partially). all written lowercase.
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thinking about neuvillette minding his own goddamned business while at home. you know, in your SHARED home. of course, this means you have to tease, bother, and pester him on occasion (maybe more than "on occasion.")
he's really, truly minding his own business in his study. organizing books and files at the rather ornate and wooden bookshelf. but, unfortunately for him, he's easily surprised by your antics. he puts his full and utter trust in you, but sometimes... sometimes he wonders if he really should (of course, he only means this jokingly. but it can concern him at times when your pranks push his buttons.)
so, when you come creeping up behind him with silent steps and silent breaths, he doesn't even register the fact that you're in the room. his back faces you as you slink inside the dimly-lit study, a wild grin on your lips.
when you pounce on him, your freezing hand abruptly dives down the front of his pants and presses against his clothed groin. he yelps. and it's the cutest yelp you've ever heard. this is a cold move—in more ways than one.
"a-ah... my dear... wh-what are you doing?" he breathes out shakily, well-aware it's just you in here with him.
"ha! i win!" you laugh and go to pull your hand out of his pants to end your successful prank.
but...
toward the end, you feel his cock hardening. this time, it's your turn to gasp as his face turns bright red like he has developed a sudden fever.
"oh? do you like it when my hand is frozen to the bone?" your grin grows wilder by the second.
"mmh..." he mutters basically nothing—only a pleased but apprehensive little whimper leaving his throat.
"oh! you do like it! hehe..." you snicker while your hand finds its way past every last article of his clothes—
and grasp him without mercy.
almost immediately, without giving him the chance to process what you're doing, you start jacking his warm cock off with your contrastingly cold hand. he gasps before letting out a strangled moan, dropping the book he was about to put away. his hands brace against the bookshelf, his face warping with pleasure that mixes in with surprise.
"ah...! please...!" he moans out, head tipping against one of the edges of the shelves on the bookcase. he groans your name, almost threateningly, but he couldn't quite muster the energy to say any real words past a pathetic growl.
"you love this, don't you? good to know." you grab his ponytail, tugging his head back a little just to get a better look at his submissive expression. "you really are enjoying this!" you tease, and he knows that, but he can't hold back the embarrassment that reaches his face.
once he gets his hands on you, it's going to be a long, long night...
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amyriadofleaves · 1 month
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outside it starts to pour — neuvillette | chapter six
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synopsis: in the limelight of fontaine, the prying eyes of its people never truly tears their gaze off the iudex and you, the présidence du conseil d'état, which makes for baseless rumours to fester and echo throughout the theatrics of opera. you and neuvillette are challenged by the reputations the both of you are expected to uphold, and the weighty decision to navigate these intricacies rests upon the discerning judgement of fontaine's archon.
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ao3 : wattpad  ˚ .˚  
⌗ pairing : neuvillette x fem!reader ⌗ feat : neuvillette, reader, charlotte ⌗ warnings : n/a ⌗ word count: 4.8k
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A subordinate of whom you do not recognise leaves a copy of the latest news on your desk and you do not pay it any mind until your lips leave your teacup of Fonta.
A MOST ROMANTIC SIGHT OF FONTAINE’S MOST INFLUENTIAL COUPLE SHATTERED BY THE BURSTING OF THE FOUNTAIN OF LUCINE!
You cannot say you are surprised; such a reaction was to be anticipated. The events of last night were far from ordinary, and the ring adorning your finger gleams in the sunlight streaming like bands through the blinds, affirming the reality of it all.
“An official report of this has been issued. Of whom do you wish to appoint this case to?”
“Why, myself of course,” you say primly, intonation insinuating the end of your phrase — but you take in a sharpened breath to continue. “Unless the Chief Justice — my fiance, might I add — wishes to accompany me. And if that ever so happens you may scribble his name of contribution in a footnote.”
The boy takes a hesitant step forward. “But, Madame, we have fresh graduates awaiting a job to take up. Wouldn't it be easier to have them do the work for you?”
You tut. “Oh, but that just won’t do. Doing the ‘work for me’, young man, does not mean doing the work effectively. I am not partial to cleaning up after my… protégés, if you will.” Another sip of your Fonta seems to shush any questions he might beg, and he complies, leaving you alone in your office. 
And he’s left the door ajar. Pity.
As you stand, your chair scrapes against the marble and you wince. I should call for someone to replace the rubber padding of the legs, you note, rolling the tabloid into a scroll. 
Though your stride is fast and your heels click a little too loudly for anyone’s comfort, you steal some time to skim through the newspaper.
A monochrome print of your outfit from yesterday makes a statement in a tiny corner of the paper you hold in your hands, and you almost smile. So people do like me! Perhaps it is your own self critique, but the words on the street after the Poisson incident were nothing shy of foul — not to mention how your rising to fame caught the attention of all the aristocrats in Fontaine (as Furina had once quipped, unaware you were right outside Monsieur Neuvillette’s office). You do not know what to take from it. 
If more surges of the prophecy begin to manifest, it is mostly up to you to take yourself up on the job — another result of Furina’s damned dereliction. 
Being proposed to does not cease the relentless flow of living, and thus is the sole reason why your feet drag you to the very precinct of Palais Mermonia. Fear lingers; you had just narrowly scraped death by a hair’s breadth, saved by your own reflexes at freezing the Fountain of Lucine before you could witness people dissolving into the very floors at which justice is determined.
Though the case is not very much ‘civil’ as your title suggests, there is no one better to take care of the problem if not you. And it does take into account the lives of people, so you do suppose that it is quite ‘civil’; in the context that it won’t very well be if more people die.
In layman’s terms, you have a case to solve that is very much your sole responsibility.
But this does not mean that you aren’t blazingly furious at the one who is supposed to spare her subjects from the injustice that is death; the sole guillotine looming over Fontaine. 
Before you allow the guards to open the door, you lose the pencil in your hair and card your fingers through it to restore its lost volume. When the door does open, a crowd seems to swarm when you make an appearance at the front step — and you eye them with a sort of caution that has you preemptively biting your tongue. The stench of sweat and body odour shoot through your senses in one swift motion, and you almost lurch forward to gag, the flashing of cameras a blinding curtain over your sight. 
And the queries commence.
"What measures have you taken to avert us from the prophecy?" a reporter cries out, thrusting a microphone toward your face, his crew trailing closely behind.
Another person, to whom you presume to be no older than twenty shouts warily. “Is it true that you are to be wed to the Chief Justice? What does this mean for your future and your new career?”
“Over here!”
“One for the cameras!’
You take a calculated move to disregard their questions and push further through the crowd — only to realise how much of a grave mistake you’ve made. An influx of more people come pouring in, snuffing the place out of any oxygen you can steal for yourself; and before you know it, you are unable to breathe. The throng of people swells and the contact of skin against skin from all the pressing bodies floods over you like a deluge.
Navigating your mind is the main challenge for a situation like this; how is one meant to think straight if all compass fails?  Your eyes flicker to the floor, and you realise the space that surrounds you as if you are a magnet repelling its own pole; but this does not stop them from pushing in further. Regret is the first emotion you feel out of anything; Why did I sign myself up for this job? Is one of the questions that cry out— but it dissipates when the more people fight through the field.
Shitshitshitshit! It almost feels like the very ground you stand on begins to cave in and you’re shrinking under the captious gazes of all the cameras and you feel so small. A fruitless attempt to create space brings everything to an impasse; and then everything falls silent. 
The crowd parts as your vision clears and your breathing slows. Damn it to the heat of the moment, but you swear you hear your heart pounding like a gong in the very forefront of your head. There he is, your knight in shining armour, as another headline stated — and if you were any more spiteful, your voice would’ve dripped with malice at the very notion of having him, the Chief Justice, by your side at every inconvenience.
But he seems to just do that at this ‘inconvenience’.
A low voice vibrates against your back and you feel a chill tease at your spine. “It is not necessary for you to converge at the Palais at this hour. I implore you all to return to wherever you came from, for my partner and I have important matters to attend to at this moment.”
This only prompts a surge of questions that drown out any attempts of the people to break through the surface of the stampede. Something — of what you presume to be a sharp edge of camera gear — grazes your side, and you physically feel a stitch come undone. The initial sting is almost akin to an ant bite, and you instinctively press your palm against it and hope that the pain from the pressure can override any pain from the wound. Pivoting, your left knee buckles as you shift your weight, your frame now shielded from the majority of the crowd. Lifting your cupped palm away from your hip, a little patch of red comes to bloom under the soft drapes of fabric of your blouse. This is what happens when you don’t take health care seriously, you jest in your mind: a fruitless attempt at diverting your attention elsewhere even if it is for a measly few seconds.  Allowing your arm to slacken, your elbow nestles firmly against your side, offering brief respite from the discomfort.
Your ears begin to ring at the sudden crescendo of voices after the Iudex’s silence, and you briefly glance at him before you realise he is peering closely at you, ultramarine eyes trailing to the very curve of your hip. 
“Must I reiterate — my partner and I have an urgent case to attend to, so if you would please excuse us.” A brief smile tugs at his lips, but it is an exasperated one. He reaches for your waist — to which he then withdraws, choosing instead to have his fingers interlace with your own. Almost dazed, you stare at your now elevated hand, and then to him, with an almost astonished awe that can only be considered as such: a want to slap him. This is certainly not of his character! What audacity…
It all happens so swiftly you have no time to turn your head at the voice that comes from the man to your left. He brings his lips to your ear and you barely make out the words — and yet the main message still prevails. “Stay close to me,” is the honey-lined command he mutters under his breath. 
He starts his advancement through the crowd, and you absentmindedly comply and attempt to replicate his pace — albeit with a noticeable limp in your gait (your attempt to shield it only has the multiple daggers piercing from within to grow into a grotesque violence). A certain demographic splits away from the crowd, retreating; another, more resilient and stubborn, stand as though secured with screws embedded into cement. Some claw at your blouse, and some to your skirt — and you cannot tell if the shouts that leave their mouths are profanities, praise, or whatever else stands in the blur of the in between.
The autumn chill freezes the warmth that once wrapped around your limbs and leaves a delicate, yet lingering frost on the apples of your cheeks. Suffocating as the influx of people was, you are now free from them, and you look back to see the aftermath of dejected faces and the subsiding of camera shutters. 
Awareness has you stealing a  brief look downward and and you feel a slight prickle of a sting at the clarity. You do not want to tend to it now; hence why you freeze a layer of ice under the gauze with strained effort. 2-in-1! Numbing cream and makeshift stitch!
With now being spared the imploring curiosity of mortality, you do not hesitate to drop Neuvillette’s hand. 
For good measure, you look past the man’s shoulder and over your own; a part of you tells you that no one is around — but how can you trust your surety? You are human; and to be human is to be defined by the errors that scream through the flesh of your being.
“There was no necessity for you to aid me, Monsieur. I was — and still am — completely, and utterly alright.” You do not turn to face him, nor do you dare to stop walking.
Neuvillette lags behind, his presence only recognisable from the shine of his boots under the sun. “I assure you it was not an action of intent, Madame; I was only off to seek a brief reprise from my duties, but instead, I was met with quite the group of people swarming you outside the Palais. Surely you must know this act was merely my own responsibility as —”
Strides fueled by adrenaline come to a brief stop and you whirl on your heel, met with a bewildered Neuvillette stopping just before he can collide into you. “Yes I do, very much know that, Chief Justice.” You lift your heel and swing it lightly backwards, stretching the distance between the two of you. “Now if you’ll excuse me; I am to mediate the threat that the Fountain poses right now.”
Instead of being patient enough to wait for a response, you curtsy and turn to leave. Someone just so happens to not take the memo, and you stop your stride again. “What is it now?”
“I am a man of my word, Madame; I claimed to have a role in what happened last night to the people, and so I must certainly be of service.”
Dejected as you are, you still remain unwavering in your gaze. “...Right.”
Neuvillette chooses not to refute, and you do not find it in yourself to speak. It is a walk of shame, almost — but the indignity lies not in the quiet, but rather in the Chief Justice's inaction in releasing the tension.
You steal a glance at Neuvillette, hoping for some sign of reassurance or understanding, but his expression remains impassive.
Your pace is now unrhythmic. The impulse to disrupt this unsettling silence with anything — a word, a gesture, or a mere breath — becomes a refuge sought in the recesses of your mounting desperation; because, God, you cannot stand another minute with this man! Yet, a brief flit of what he might be thinking gives you a taste of how, most probably, he is not feeling as disturbed as you are right now. Observing him from the corner of your eye, his demeanour remains unperturbed. Damn him and his impartiality.
Someone chooses to finally shatter the static, and it is not you nor Neuvillette. Instead it is that reporter: Charlotte. Though you do not see her, the sheer recognition of who it is is confirmed when she sounds from behind, and the two of you turn your heads almost in unison. A head of baby pink hair is the first aspect of her that you notice, and everything else comes into full view.
She claps her hands with a roll of paper in her left. “Oh. My. God. I have been struck with luck today, it seems! You would not care as to spare a few minutes of your time for some questions, would you?” 
You exhale a nervous laugh, looking to Neuvillette to reject the offer.
Beaming, she turns to you, and lays a friendly hand on your wrist. “I’m a big fan. It is an honour to finally meet you in person.” 
That is undoubtedly a first. Maybe she thought you were the acting chief justice? As President of the Conseil d'État, you haven't accomplished anything particularly noteworthy to warrant or merit such commendation. 
Clearing your throat, you bring forth the most professional smile you can muster. “And to you, too, Charlotte. Though I am afraid we are quite occupied with other responsibilities… Perhaps we could arrange an official meeting for an interview? Just let me know of your schedule.” 
“Oh! That is very kind of you, Madame. I will certainly send you my schedule and please, pick what date as you see fit.” Her eyes shift from yours to Neuvillette. “And congratulations on your engagement! The topic of your engagement has been thrown into every conversation under the sun. Trust me, I’ve seen it.”
Neuvillette closes in a little nearer, clearly piqued by her claim. “Really? I certainly did not foresee this to be upped to such a… grand scale. But surely —” He jolts at you nudging his arm to stop. “Ah. Yes. I apologise greatly, Charlotte, but the matter at hand is far too grave.”
“Yeah, sure — no biggie. See you two around!”
And there she goes, frolicking like a little girl in an open field. “A strange one, that girl.” You say, a tinge of amusement in your tone. Deep down, you are grateful that she happened to be there: a casual catalyst to have conversation up and running again. You pretend you do not dislike the man in front of you.
He hums a little. “Her childlike innocence is seldom seen nowadays; it is a quality I have so wished to feel.” 
You turn to him, eyes narrowing in scepticism. “Never have I met someone with a childhood so terrible.”
His expression seems to tighten, almost as if he’s been caught. “That was not what I meant, I am merely enamoured and simply jealous at how people can still enjoy their youth. You feel that way, too, don’t you?”
You do not completely buy into his claim, yet you decide to play along. “What do you think?”
Another beat of silence.
“We must make haste,” he says.
“Indeed we must.”
To feel relieved or concerned at the lack of people at the Opera Epiclese is another question that looms like jeopardy trivia. Its perimeter is boarded by tape and identified with a bold AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY at its entrance. A peculiar stillness blankets Erinnyes, the previously flowing waters now arrested in their motion, the sight of a frozen fountain showing bright and iridescent in the setting sun.
The man next to you looks forward as if entranced, the reason for the fall of his expression unreadable. His gaze drops to yours and he snaps himself out of it. “Ladies first,” he says, extending his arm as a gesture of courtesy.
“I do not like that this is the first time you’ve shown me such courtesy in the context of such dire circumstances in which I could possibly die if the water thaws,” you jest offhandedly, but you do not think he takes it the same way. 
“Forgive me if I have insulted you, Madame. I did not think my actions through,” he starts, but you stop him with a tut before he can continue further.
“Yes, Monsieur. You have insulted me and you certainly did not think your actions through.” you shoot him a glare.
"Was that... a joke? I certainly have not the talent which some people possess of conversinf easily. I apologise."
You scoff and brush past him, and though you do not see it — you just have a feeling he won’t attempt to overtake you in the dominance of your stride. And he doesn’t.
The Fountain is now dripping as it melts, its opal waters catching itself in the crevices of the ground. It lulls you ever so slightly, at how it trickles with an inexplicable slowness, a second longer than that of normal water; a possible explanation for why the Fountain has not fully melted yet.
There is a puddle of the Primordial water in front of you, and a sudden desire to touch it surges through you; it is a strange longing, but it lures you in like a moth to a flame.  It wouldn't harm anyone to continue staring at it for a little bit, would it? You've always questioned if you were indeed Fontainian, and the solution to your dilemma is poised in front of you, pulling you toward it. 
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” The Iudex has his hand wrapped around your wrist, his gaze a warning. You do not know what has gotten into you — hell, you don’t even remember reaching for it. 
You wriggle your arm from his grasp. “Don’t think much of it.” You feel protectively at your hand up until the base. 
Neuvillette’s gaze lingers, before he soundlessly leaves your side. He makes his way to the other end of the Fountain of Lucine, where he examines it with such curiosity you begin to wonder what he finds intriguing about the rear end of a Fountain that appears uniform at every angle.
A shout sounds from you and reaches the man on the other side of the fountain. “So. Mister Chief Justice. What do you think we should do?" He seems just as entranced as you are, eyes not compensating to find yours as his lips move to find a response.
“I think I can possibly revert the waters to how they once were — store it deeper inside the Fountain,” as he speaks, he begins to advance in a return to your side.“But I can only work with bodies of water, not ice. So I need to request a favour from you.”
Unsure of where he is taking this, you reply with a diffident: “Sure.”
He is now standing in front of you (it is a little too close, however — so you shuffle backwards). “Could you… possibly — no, that wouldn’t work.” He stops midway, a wrinkle forming between his blond brows. What an awfully peculiar man he is, you think, eyeing the way he seems to be finding other words to phrase what he was to say better. You think he fails to do so when his slightly ajar mouth closes.
You would be a fraud to say you weren’t curious. “No. Tell me.”
“It was merely an afterthought, and I suppose now that you still wouldn’t be up for it if I told you, so I might as well. Is it possible for you to reverse your freezing of the ice? To revert it back to its liquid state, so to speak?"
Your eyes dart to your hands, and you bargain the sheer potential of your power; you are able to manipulate the waters into ice — this you know — but to revert ice to water? It is certainly not unheard of, and yet you would consider such a method to be unorthodox; nothing of the sort was ever taught in schools, let alone by tutors. A memory from your youth resurfaces, your father’s blaring, forceful voice a menacing exploitation of your power he so desperately wanted to possess.
Flair was a spectacle — a luxury; for flaunting your own strength resulted in punishment.
“I cannot promise you anything. Do not be so much as dejected when my attempts prove to be futile, Monsieur.”
With an interest piqued, he brings his eyes to level with yours. “There shall be no need to worry if it fails. I have another idea we could resort to.” Something in your intuition had you feeling he thought you wouldn’t agree. 
“Wouldn’t the water annihilate the both of us?”
His eyes shoot to the now dimming sky, not stealing a glance at the gloves he begins to adjust. “I will restrain the flow of water, you need not be concerned.”
You roll your shoulders back. “Well. Doesn’t hurt to try.”
Though he does not respond, he takes a step back, allowing you the full expanse of the Fountain. You wriggle and flex your fingers. Shouldn’t be too hard, you tell yourself. How difficult could it possibly be? If anything, it is just a test of your skill; where are the cameras? If they were to take photos of you, you would love it if they would right now. Or maybe they find it all too mundane. Downfall and drama is what they prey on, after all.
Your eyes flutter closed, and you begin to reach into the ice with everything within you, forcing it toward you with a tug so hard it has you winded. The autumn chill intensifies as the wind carries the ice like a vice. Of all the things you think of, you are reminded of your father’s distant coldness: an extinguisher of warmth (of which belonged to your mother). It is a bitter childhood memory — one of an empty seat at dinner tables and palpable fury. You can almost hear your father’s voice, distorted as all memories are (they all come perfect, uniform — and yet they leave like glass breaking off at the hands of an all-too-passionate lover).
Ice crawls up your arm, the numbness a factor you do not pay any attention to. You cannot deny that this does bring you an odd discomfort, for the discomfort you usually feel at the use of your Vision is a draining of energy to create; yet this is the first time you’ve ever been required to destroy. 
It slows your pulse, as ice does, and your eyes fight to shoot open at the idea of a slip of your consciousness. Yet you still pursue. Pulling harder this time, the oxygen in your lungs grows frigid and cut like knives against your ribcage. You attempt to channel more with pure instinct, but you cannot. There is nothing for you to reach.
With finality, you permit your eyes to flutter open, all the pain you should be feeling blurring into the foreground when greeted with a vista of bright blues and the billowing of the Iudex’s robes. Your arm instinctively lifts to shield yourself from the roaring wind.
A halo of azure hues encircle his wrists, lacing through his hair. The water remains frozen, but it is not from the ice that you hold dear, and instead it is from his outstretched hands, twisting against the tide in attempts to turn back time against the current.
You stagger backwards, and yet you miraculously feel grounded in place, a paradox of numbness and pain you wish not to acknowledge. The seal he begins to place against the water ripples through the air like a soundwave, stripping you of any hearing and in its absence is replaced by a constant ringing. 
Neuvillette drops his arm, the suspended droplets of water following suit, crushed under the weight of his command. Everything seems to snap into motion the second the Fountain stills, a single wave of harsh wind fluttering through Erinnyes, the familiar rattle of trees swaying teasing at your ears.
Something about the whole spectacle seems like a fantasy, those of which you hear about in fables and folklore. 
“Bravo,” you muse, noticing the way his shoulders sag.
The Chief Justice looks over his shoulder, slate eyes morphing into wide ones as he takes in your frame. “My, you’re awfully pale.”
You flash him a tired smile. “Nothing I can’t handle. And no, I am not pale — this is an insult. I am perfectly sunkissed, so much so that every man and woman desires me or desires to be me.” You wave him away, your hand limp in its action.
The Iudex’s face only deepens in distress. You do not give him room to speak. “Why the long face hm? Surely you don’t think so lowly of me. Surely you…” Weights weigh in on your eyelids, and your knees buckle. An attempt to balance yourself with your other foot fails, and instead of meeting hard cement the warmth of an unwanted embrace greets you. 
“(Name),” he mutters. Your name rolls off his tongue like a curse; ludicrous. “You’re bleeding.”
Instinctively you use his arms as leverage. “I am fine, Monsieur. I am no princess in need of saving — oh! Nevermind, you are right,” you slur, a hand you never realised was on your hip coming away red. A drunk smile flickers on your features for a brief moment before you slump again into his arms.
He stumbles backwards at the suddenness of your movement, but his grip is firm. “You are unfit for a trip back to the city. I must escort you.” His breath brushes against the nape of your neck. 
You push him away. “Do not treat me as if I’m a child, young man. I can manage myself, I am a grown woman and I am employed. That says something, doesn’t it?” Defensively, you point at yourself to prove that you are not injured. Your claim contradicts itself; your sight begins to fail, blurred by growing black spots dotting your vision.
“Madame, please. You have over-exerted yourself.”
The Iudex’s voice comes as a muffled blur, and you attempt to take a step forward — but it is limp and miscalculated. Neuvillette's gaze briefly falls to your hands, his touch supporting you with one hand on your back and the other delicately grasping your fingers. “Goodness. Your hands are cold.” Sapphire peeks through the ice, the engagement ring a cruel reminder of the tie that binds you both.
You manage a whisper. “Not entirely. Just the palm.” You wiggle your fingers slightly, albeit with great effort. 
“Please, refrain from speaking,” he implores gently, a hint of concern laced in his voice. “It is imperative that I help you back home, so forgive me if my hold happens to be a little rough.” Before you can cry out in protest, he scoops you up, arms sliding under your inner knees and upper back. Platinum strands fall against your chest, his own rising and falling peculiarly slow. You can still make out a frown that pulls on his lips, and you almost smile at the notion that you’re the reason for his agony.
How sightly.
Your arms naturally curl around the groove of his neck. “I’ll hate you for this. Up until I am brought to my grave.”
“I believe your disdain for me would be far greater had I abandoned you,” he says plainly, no hint of jest in his tone. He adjusts his hold of you, and you slide further down into his grasp, now sandwiched between his arms and chest; you do not make any alarm of it, however, thoughts trailing to your fluffed mattress and plush pillows.
“My disdain for you is already much too cruel for a soul to comprehend,” you garble, a wisp of your misty white breath escaping as a plume.
"As it is for me," he breathes out, but you cannot read his lips.
Pointing blindly in a direction you assume is north, you declare: “Well then; if you don’t have any objections, to my apartment it is."
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a/n: spot the subtle pride n prejudice reference I put for fun teehee
taglist : @sek0ya, @souxiesun
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