writing-in-glitter-pen

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

good morning, lover ° ᡣ𐭩 .

It's a miracle to spend your mornings with the man you love. He feels more than blessed to wake up beside you when the sun rises, and makes sure to wish you a good morning before he leaves.

Childe, Ayato, and Kaeya x fem!reader II fluff ᰔ

Childe is naturally conditioned to wake up in the early hours of the morning; his body's clock racing the sun so that he opens his eyes before he is greeted by dawn. On a daily basis, he needs to jump out of bed before the sun breaks over the horizon to get ready for work and step out of the house to the Northland Bank. He tries his very best not to wake you, slowly slipping out of your arms and inching out of bed away from you. He makes sure to tuck you back in under the warm duvet, but despite his best efforts, the sudden loneliness without him draws you from your sleep and you blink your bleary eyes open to find him shaving in the bathroom or throwing on his slacks. He freezes when he hears your soft, “Good morning.” and turns to face you with his crooked grin before tossing himself back on top of you and smothering your lips, cheeks, and neck with gingerly placed, adoring kisses. 

“Go back to sleep, love.”, he’ll whisper, and chuckle when you grip onto his shoulders tighter when he attempts to draw himself away from you. “I have to go, dear.”, he insists, though his body whines to crawl back under the covers with you.

“Stay.”, you whisper to him, and it’s so so tempting. If he could, he’d warm you up in the soft cotton sheets well into the afternoon, but that’s just not an option for him. 

He distracts you with dreamy, open mouthed kisses to your lips while he holds your hands and slowly presses them back down to your chest. He once again tucks you back into a warm cocoon and nuzzles his nose into your hair to take in your scent one last time before he leaves so that he may carry the thought of you through his work day and look forward to returning to you and your shared bed at the end of it. 

You often have to retire to bed without Ayato due to the amount of work and responsibilities he must fulfill within his short timelines.

You know he doesn’t sleep quite enough, but he never shows it; his cool, charming smile and composed but cheerful demeanor distracts from the defined lines in his face and dark circles underneath his eyes. He looks older than he should for his age, you think; but even so, you still find him to be the most handsome man in the world—his charm, in your eyes, will never fade.

You understand that not being able to retire to bed alongside you is a sacrifice must make, but contentment washes over you when you feel him finally slip into bed beside you and draw you close against his chest. His deep, pleased sigh echos in your dreams, stirring you so that you may snuggle closer to him and relax into his embrace.

Though he hates to wake you when he inevitably must leave your side again, he feels it’s his duty to wish you a good morning, so he’ll gently lean over you and kiss your lips as you rest, whispering a quiet, “Good morning, precious.” into your ear.

Your happy hum is enough of a morning greeting in return to satisfy him, and he leaves one last kiss to the space just underneath your ear before reluctantly getting up and off to work. In those sparse, quiet moments he has to himself in his office, he’ll reminisce about the way you felt in his arms last night. He relishes in the memory of getting to squish your plushy body so securely against him, reminding him of the reason he works so tirelessly; to protect that invaluable woman he is blessed to share his bed with every night. 

One of Kaeya’s favorite activities is sleeping in with you.

Duty calls, but not nearly loud enough to pry him from you. He knows he has to get up, lest he receive a verbal lashing from Jean, but the delightful sound of your angelic, peaceful breathing strips him of his ability to care. He’ll gladly take the docked pay and extra paperwork slammed on him as punishment if it means he can hold you for thirty minutes more.

He takes this moment to reflect on his dreams; he’ll smile and hug you closer at the memories of visions filled with light and love he would rarely receive before you began sharing his bed, and mornings where he’d lived nightmares in the hours prior and returned to the darkest periods of his life, he feels grateful to have you to soothe him—gently running his fingers through your hair and reminding himself of how you brought pleasant daydreams back into his life.

When the sight of the yellow morning sun berates him for his tardiness, he’ll finally rise, reasoning with himself that, if he wants to keep you in this warm bed and under this safe roof he provides for you, he’d better get to work. 

He smoothes your hair back and gently kisses your forehead, mumbling a quiet, “Good morning, sweetheart. Visit me at lunch, alright?”

“Alright.”, you sigh in your sleepy state.

One last time, he takes a strand of your silky hair and runs it through his hand, kissing the tip of it as he holds it between his fingers. 

He, regrettably, parts from you, but carries the hope that you’ll remember your promise and join him for an afternoon nap on the couch in his office during his midday break, so that he may indulge in the heavenly feeling of you once again.

#genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x you #genshin childe #childe x fem!reader #genshin tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x reader #kaeya genshin impact #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #genshin ajax #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya x fem!reader #kaeya fluff #ayato fluff #ayato x reader #ayato imagines #kaeya imagines #ayato x fem!reader #kamisato ayato

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ what I know to be true ⋆｡˚ ೀ⋆｡˚ ༘

Childe wasn't a big fan of the Tsaritsa's demand for him to find a wife, until he'd come upon the perfect girl for the job. You—a lady he knew in his childhood to be a horrible nuisance and demon on Earth. Not only would this marriage fulfill his duty, but would let him settle a long-time grudge as well. Little did he know, he stood more to gain from this partnership than he thought.

Childe x fem!reader II arranged marriage, angst? to fluff, childhood enemies to lovers, romance!

Childe was never one for romance, and especially not for commitment.

He just had so much else on his plate, much bigger dreams than that of settling down in a household and abandoning his place on the battlefield.

He was always looking ahead to a future of bloodshed, of power, of someday ruling the world.

That wasn't going to happen if a distraction stood in his way.

He would sometimes muse about having kids, loving the idea of continuing his lineage and watching a bunch of mini-me's run around, but ultimately, he decided his duty to the Tsaritsa would stand in the way of him being a good father. So he'd just have to settle for being an amazing uncle to the children his siblings would eventually have, spoiling them with presents at Christmas time and teaching them how to protect themselves out in the wild.

So when he was called into the Tsaritsa's throne room and received the news that a harbinger of his status was to be married, in order to keep up with regal airs the nobles of Snezhanaya, he was, respectfully, very unhappy.

"You'll be seen at balls and lead battalions. Your role must be carried with honor. Nobody will respect an old lonely man.", she claimed, then drew out a long, thin arm to hold his chin with a bony hand—long pointed nails pressing divots into his skin. Though her touch was frigid, she looked down at him with a certain fondness in her eyes, though the sincerity of it was undistinguishable. "You need a pretty thing by your side to elevate your status. You know I only want what's best for you.", she cooed, like she was addressing a child.

He new better than to disobey her commands, and something about the smoothness of her voice assured him that this was the right choice. He only nodded, though his fists clenched at his sides in dismay.

Childe read over the listed names of eligible young ladies for him to marry with contempt; scrolling through the meaningless last names and accompanying statures, ordered from top to bottom by how highly they stood in the totem pole of nobility. Like he cared where the girl would come from.

He felt guilt for the miserable thing that would have to marry him; though he could care less about who these women were, he believed that they deserved a partner that loved them, or at least a good man that could stand to take care of them. All they would be to him is a nuisance, a label which they had done nothing to earn.

Though, when he neared the end of the list, a section devoted to common folk who had certain merits like striking beauty or some sort of fame, that he found a name he recognized.

Your name.

Oh, how he remembered you.

You were the daughter of good friends of his parents. Your families would often gather for holidays or dinner parties, sharing what little they had in the name of kinship. The gatherings were lively, full of happiness and cheer...

But you had a certain countenance that stood out to him and branded your name into a special part of his brain to be remembered for the rest of his life.

You were a little brat was what you were.

Though you were only a toddler when he met you, having only just taken your first steps while he was already halfway through being eight, he found you to be the most insufferable little human he'd ever met.

Your parents would always gab and brag about what a good little girl you were; how you never cried or screamed, how you were sweet and patient and loving—a wonderful surprise for parents preparing for the "terrible two's.".

They had to be lying, because every time Ajax would come into view you'd immediately throw a fit, wailing and swiping at his face with a kind of rage an entire army of men could not match.

He had no idea why; he never touched you, or spoke to you, all he did upon your first meeting was draw back in repulse.

You weren't a pleasure to look at; with your beady little eyes and thick eyelashes that lined them, your thin eyebrows and piercing gaze. You looked like some haunted porcelain doll. And there was a certain consciousness behind your eyes that children your age were not supposed to have.

His little siblings were much cuter.

And he did not hesitate to say that.

"Tonia was a prettier baby. What's wrong with her?", he piped up, humiliating his mother and father who immediately scolded him for his rudeness. Your mother only laughed.

"Trust me, she'll be a beauty when she grows up. I won't be surprised when you come around here in sixteen years asking to marry her."

This started a little musing session between your mothers, giggling about the possibility of their children being wed and how wonderful that would be for their friendship and their families.

Meanwhile, Ajax was dwelling on how that would absolutely never happen—if the look on your face was any indicator.

You were red as a tomato, nose scrunched in distain as your eyes pierced his. Like you'd understood him.

How was he supposed to know babies could take offense?

Whether or not your infant brain could comprehend his words, your hatred was clear, and before he could react, your soft little hand went flying towards his face and landed with a resounding THWAP!

Even though you struck him, you immediately burst into tears, bawling crocodile tears that ran down your face and dripped off of your chin.

All of the adults in the room immediately ran to your aid, hushing and petting you while scorning Ajax for "tormenting the poor girl."

Never before had he felt so cheated.

That begun his feud with a two year old.

Your detest for one another ran deep. So much so that every gathering between your families ended in you receiving plenty of sneaky pinches to your fat baby skin and him risking a bald spot with the amount of hair you'd rip out of his head.

It was a nightmare you could walk too, since you'd often seek him out just to babble in annoyance and tug at the knee of his trousers.

"See? Look at how much she likes you!", his mother would coo, but he knew better. Your grappling with his pants was your pea-brained strategy to get him to bend down and remove you so you could bop him one on the nose.

He swore you were such a strong baby. He'd rather take a hit from a club than suffer the force that your tiny fists could bring down on his head.

That's why you were the perfect girl to be his wife

If he were to marry any other woman, the guilt of leaving her alone at home for long stretches of time, depriving her of having the good husband she deserves rather than a man who could never love her, would be overwhelming.

Sure, he was a monster, but he wasn't about to let some innocent bystander be collateral damage.

But you? The evil, horrible little wench you are? You more than deserved it.

In his mind, he'd actually be doing his fellow man a favor by saving an unsuspecting bachelor from accidentally marrying a grisly thing like you.

So, although his retainers were already in the process of scheduling meetings with his potential brides, he plucked your name from the list without hesitation.

"Set the wedding date. I'll have that one."

The organizers looked between themselves warily, deciding whether or not they should challenge him on this monumental decision.

"And nothing too grand—it'll just be family.", he cooly added, leaning back in his chair to rest his feet upon his desk and crushing the list of names under his dirty boots.

In the end, the harbinger always gets what he wants, so his retainers retreated with quiet nods and quick steps.

Though Childe acted aloof towards the decision to have you as his bride, when the day of the wedding actually arrived and he found himself standing at the altar of a small church in Mosepok—his home town, his palms were sweating and eyes darting around nervously. He shifted his weight on his feet as the congregation waited for you to enter; this was supposed to be a small ceremony, but leave it to his mother and father's proud announcements to their friends and neighbors to draw a crowd. As his eyes scanned the faces of those who'd known him in his youth, he realized near all of the small port town was packed into the pews. He wracked his brain for the answer as to why these people would want to watch their old town troublemaker's union, but he supposed it would be the most interesting thing to happen in the town since his era of delinquency.

It was a miracle that the budget the Fatui gave Childe for this wedding greatly superseded the amount he'd needed for the original plan of a small gathering; it was more than enough to feed the whole town for a night, which actually brought a flicker of joy to Childe's chest.

He was pleased that he could give back to the community that handled him like a family in his childhood.

But that flicker was immediately quenched when the creaking sound of the heavy oak doors that led into the chapel reverberated through the room—revealing the silhouette cast in white of his bride.

His stomach turned with anxiety. Childe had led battalions into what could be considered suicide missions if not for their miraculous victorious outcome, and yet, somehow, the fear he felt standing in front of a girl that, though she may not be small by definition, definitely looked so standing next to him, significantly surpassed that of which he's ever felt.

His cold body shook like he stood inches from death.

Suddenly, he remembered the fury your little body had when you were only a baby, and it dawned on him that you've only gotten bigger, smarter, stronger. A little arbiter of the apocalypse couldn't have grown into the meek woman he imagined, if anything, her bloodlust grew with age.

What did he get himself into? Was he an idiot? Did he, blinded by his scheming for revenge, land himself in a lion's den?

With a light tap on the shoulder from the priest, he jolted out of his stupor and found you standing in front of him already, suddenly remembering that he was now to lift your veil.

His hands shook as he reached out, bracing himself for the hideous face he'd been forced to associate with at every friendly gathering between your parents in childhood, and now, due to his own brashness, would have to associate with every time he returned home or attended public events.

He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as he took the fabric between his white-knuckled fingers and threw the thing up and over your head. The procession hummed with awe and approval—some more boisterous men from the docks whistling, to which their wives jabbed an elbow into their ribs.

The sounds of adoration resounding from the audience perplexed Childe, drawing his interest and encouraging him to open one wary eye and peek at you.

But his cautious peek grew into an owlish gawking and dropped jaw when the woman before him shined like an angel.

This couldn't have been the girl he knew in her infancy; her once-beady eyes now twinkled like stars, her red puffy face was now sculpted and the only remnants of her discoloration resided in dusted pink pigments on her cheeks. They were so perfectly placed that they could be mistaken for a painting by an artist with a keen eye. He pried his gaze from your enrapturing eyes to ogle your lips—plushy and inviting. He'd give anything to kiss a gorgeous woman like you.

And he remembered with an unexpected delight that he would by the end of this ceremony.

Before he knew it, the soft ring of your voice settled upon his ears. Having been caught in a trance, he hadn't realized the procession already arrived at your vows.

He only tuned in after the opening sentences of your declaration had passed, your words blurred by his reverie.

"I promise to wait for you when you go and embrace you when you return; to make a warm, solace of a home for you that you can always come back to, whether there be a roof over our heads or not. I promise to follow you through this life and meet you in the next, to be by your side when you need me, no matter how far apart we may be forced to exist. I promise to love you and only you, to be true as long as your ring encloses my finger, and promise to keep it there forever. I will take your family into my arms just as you will me, care for them—as they are an extension of you, to love them just as I do you. I'll hold you ever close to my heart, speak to you with nothing but kindness, recognize your face as that of my partner in life, my one and only, and..."

Childe jumped when he felt your warm hand sneak up on his and gingerly intertwine your fingers, to which he did not resist, nor want to.

"I promise to love you as you are; no matter how much the years we spend together may change us."

To his puzzlement, Childe felt a certain wetness roll down his cheek, causing him to look up at the skylight above the both of you to check if it was raining. When another droplet ran down the other side of his face, he realized he was crying.

Childe never cried, he couldn't even remember the last time it had happened; maybe it was sometime when he was a boy, but the memory simply did not exist. These were not tears shed in misery, they were spurred by your words of devotion, words he'd never been blessed with before. He truly wondered now if you may be divine, but all he beheld of you told him you were, in fact, human, and not a vision of absolution sent from the heavens above.

You tilted your head to the side and blinked your dollish eyelashes at him, obviously waiting for something, to which he remembered that is was now his turn.

He had neglected to write vows beforehand or memorize the traditional vows spoken by couples bound by marriage as an arrangement. He had, in fact, planned on skipping the process altogether, but your profession of love caught him off guard and incentivized him to speak his own.

So, with a blank mind, he resorted to letting the few truths he knew spill from his mouth.

"I'd only known you during our childhoods, but how you've blossomed and changed has..."

He had never been one for words, so making something up on the spot in front of quite literally a hundred people was daunting. His voice seized with trepidation, but he took a breath and moved forward.

"Has...left me speechless. My mind is empty, and all I can think of now is...that I am blessed."

He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued, struck by your endearing gaze on him—it made his voice quiver as it resounded from his chest.

"I'd assumed I knew you, but it's clear to me now that I have so much more to learn."

He unconsciously squeezed your hand for comfort, and, with a gentle smile on your face, you reassuringly squeezed back; making him sigh and yearn to feel more of you—imagining that you felt like warm cotton, soft and homey, something he could bury himself in and happily stay there for eternity.

"And I want to learn it. I...want to spend my whole life in awe of you, discovering as much as I can, knowing you like I know myself."

He could not hesitate before he blurted his next statement, his voice getting carried away from him and spilling his most personal beliefs.

"And loving you as you love me."

Your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, and your eyes glimmered as your perfect lips stretched into an even more enticing smile. He could hear your soft, happy sigh, a sound that not even the priest beside the two of you could catch, almost like a secret meant just for him.

Your sweetness enthralled him like nothing he'd ever experienced— slowly convincing him that you very well may be the best thing that's ever happened to him.

"I'll take care of you.", he promised, and meant it. "I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring your safety and happiness. Despite what you promised before, I will always put a roof over your head. You'll be forever warm and safe. I will fight for you, die for you, do anything you ask. You will want for nothing as long as you're mine."

His vow had come upon its conclusion with one final promise he all but growled, like it was somehow in danger of being broken—that he would go to any length to protect.

"And you will forever be mine."

His pause at the end indicated to the priest that the his vow had ended, and the way your lips parted in wonder and your wide eyes remained locked on his made him want to lean in and kiss you like every inch of his body burned to do. But he had to, begrudgingly, wait; hoping the ceremony would end as soon as possible so he could finally have you to himself and ask you all the questions he was dying for the answers to.

Did you really mean what you said? He sure did, and he didn't even know he had the capacity to not only promise, but want, desperately so, the fulfill the oaths he had declared to you.

Soon enough, the priest announced it was now time for the bestowing of the rings—a symbol of the bond you will share for eternity.

As the ring bearer, Childe's dear brother, Teucer, brought the rings resting on a white silk pillow over to the altar and held it over his head while he balanced on his tippy toes so the two of you could reach the rings with ease. Childe immediately felt awash in shame. All he'd purchased for you was a simple silver band—no precious gems, no original detailing, just a band. He didn't expect to want to take pride in the symbol of his loyalty you'd wear for him on your finger. He'd get you a new one, a better one—one he could admire as he kissed your hand, held it with adoration and smoothed his fingers over it.

But although the ring fell below expectations, there was no disappointment on your face. You barely glanced at it, your eyes trained on his face with a fondness he'd never received before. Your gaze had his heart spilling over with exaltation.

You took his hand in yours and slipped the perfectly fitted ring around his finger, giving it a small squeeze when you were done—as if to brand your affection deep into his hand.

He returned the gesture, taking your other hand in his and, carefully, securing the ring around your finger as well; he breathed a sigh of relief and felt a weight he hadn't known was resting on his shoulders alleviate. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to leap out in a desperate attempt to be ever closer to yours.

The priest spoke, but his voice was drowned out by Childe's inner voice, wailing for you.

All he could register was the sound of your silver bell-like voice, piercing through the fog in his head like a star's light in the void of the night sky above.

"I do.", you said.

He couldn't tell if he'd rushed ahead of the priest's announcement of his turn or not, but he followed your statement blindly.

"I do.", he whispered ardently, brushing the backs of those precious hands of yours softly with his thumbs.

After the final blurb recited by the priest, a sentiment he couldn't bring himself to listen to in his anticipation, he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Without a moment of delay, he brought both of his hands up to cup your cheeks, a look of ache in his face as it felt like you had reached an invisible hand into his chest and gripped his heart, and kissed you.

Fervently, passionately kissed you.

It took your breath away, left you panting when he finally pulled away after remembering he was, in fact, in front of his parents and broader community.

But cheers sang from the crowd for your union as he led you back down the steps of the altar and out of the church, eyes trained on your feet with your hand secured in his—watching carefully as you descended to make sure you wouldn't fall. He treated you as if you were sculpted from crystal glass.

After the two of you crossed the threshold out of the church as one, Childe gently tugged your hand to draw you closer so that he could whisper in your ear.

"Could we take a walk in the garden?"

While the guests made their way to the reception hall for their lavish dinner, you and Childe strolled through the church's garden together, hands still intertwined as the two of you gazed at the various winter shrubs and evergreen trees sprinkled with snow. It was beautiful in its own kind of way; the way life persevered through otherwise uninhabitable conditions, how even the bear oak trees existed as intricate silhouettes against the grey sky—providing cover as the sun sank down and gave way to a grim dusk, it was wonderful, and in this moment, it was yours to share.

The two of you came to a halt at a marble bench next to a large, frozen fountain, adorned with swirling details and moulding from an older, more fanciful era. He swiped off the snow that had built on top of the bench, then removed his large, fur-lined cloak to rest on the surface. He led you down to sit on it, having fashioned a dry, warm seat for you as he stood.

"Won't you be cold?"

"I'll be fine.", he assured you. He'd grown used to the frigid air of his home country, having entered various conflicts with nothing but thin linen to cover him for the sake of his movements not being burdened by thick, heavy fabric.

"Thank you.", you spoke, softly, and the words warmed his chest more than any coat could.

He stood there for a long moment, just taking in the sight of you. He just couldn't believe you were real, and couldn't believe you were his at so little a cost—he'd done nothing but bellyache and pluck your name off of a paper, and somehow the situation ended up being the best decision of his life. He'd found someone that claimed to truly, deeply love him by sheer chance.

And that thought brought him to the question that had been weighing on his mind since your vows.

"Did you really mean what you said?", he asked, quietly, hesitantly. After the words left his mouth, he wished he'd never said them. He didn't want to know the answer; if he could live in a fantasy where a miracle like you truly adored him, he'd seize the opportunity and hold it close to his heart for the rest of his life. He felt like such a fool.

"Of course I did.", you chuckled, like the question was ridiculous.

"I thought you hated me.", he confessed, his curiosity for your change of heart getting the best of him when he knew better than to ask too many questions. You only quirked your head and blinked at him, indicating that he needed to clarify. "When we were younger, you acted like you wanted my head on a stick."

To that admission, you laughed heartily. It was a lovely sound, one his mind would no doubt play on repeat in his darkest of times, sending sparks to his heart that would keep him moving forward—back to you so he could hear it again and again. "I was a toddler, dear. I didn't understand my feelings! And you were pretty nasty to me, too.", you said with a playful, pointed look.

The term of endearment made his heart bubble, craving to hear you say it again, but his mind was desperate for more answers. "But...how did you...", he coughed awkwardly, "fall for me?".

His carefully spoken question only made you giggle once again, but you could understand his confusion.

"Oh, Ajax. You were the most entertaining person I've ever met. I know we fought, but I remembered your presence in my life so fondly. And I'd look at pictures of us from our old gatherings, where our parents would force you to hold me on your lap and smile, or take candid shots of us chasing each other around, and I'd wish for you to come back so we could fight again.", you laughed at the memory. "I thought of you all the time, you know. And, as I grew older and life passed by, I'd keep looking back on those photos and...", your cheeks turned even redder than the chilly air had already done, flushing your cheeks and nose. After this conversation, Childe would make sure to rush you inside so you could warm up by a hearth. "Well, my heart would beat for you. And I wished you would come back for different reasons...so I could see you again and fall in love with the man you've become."

Childe gulped in shame. He knew the man he'd become was...cruel. Wicked. He'd never thought so little of himself than when he stood before you, your glorious, pure eyes assessing him like Celestia would upon the day of his death.

But how you looked on at him was not in judgement, but affection. "And when I met you at the altar, I did. I truly did."

He was so swayed by your words, so caught up in your devotion, that though he knew he was undeserving, he leaned down and connected your lips with his once again; his large hands warmed you where they caressed your cheek and the side of your neck, his lips thawing your frozen ones. The flavor of you was intoxicating, but as much as he wanted to prolong this moment, your icy skin pushed him to get you inside immediately.

So he drew back, drawing the most angelic whine of protest from your lips. It made him grin in pride.

"Let's warm you up, huh?"

Though you wanted to stay in the privacy of this isolated garden, continue to live in this moment that only existed for the two of you, you couldn't deny how you shivered and your stomach growled. It was time for your reception, and you couldn't keep your guests waiting.

So you, albeit reluctantly, let Ajax pull you up into his arms and throw his cloak around the both of you before taking you back to the church where he married you, now entering sharing one heart, one life, one love. Forever.

#genshin x reader #childe x reader #genshin x you #genshin childe #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin ajax #childe x you #genshin tartaglia x reader #tartagalia x reader #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x reader #genshin tartaglia #childe angst #childe fluff #enemies to lovers #genshin childe x reader #childe genshin impact #childe imagines #childe x fem!reader #tartaglia x fem!reader #tartaglia fluff #tartaglia genshin impact #ajax genshin impact #tartaglia imagines #childe fanfiction #tartaglia fanfiction #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact fluff #genshin imagines

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

love🥺🫶🏻I click at my notification so fast when I saw your posting again adfkgk you have no idea how much I like your writing! also I'm new to your blog but if anyone trying to hurt you I'm......going to give them a really bad time... 😤💪//hj

Anyway 🥺🫶🏻🫶🏻can I request a reaction of wrio and neuvillette with a darling who has a habit of looking at the price on menus...like why worry your silly little head? when you're with them those silly little numbers mean nothing. it's one of your habit that's hard to let go but he find them really cute so it's okay!

Awwww thank you so much, dear!!!! You'll be happy to know that I've got nothing but love on here which I'm so so grateful for ♡ but I appreciate you so much for your protection ♡

And what a lovely idea!! This is so something I struggle with so it was interesting to write about and imagine what our favorite boys would say!! I hope you like it ♡

✧˖° you're worth all the mora in the world⋆.˚✧

Wriothesley & Neuvillette x gn!reader (separate) II fluff!

"You're not allowed to order water."

"Wriothesley..."

He slides the drink menu over to you with a stern, "Pick one."

"...but I don't need—"

"It's not about needing. I took you out to spoil and indulge you, don't deny me that pleasure."

You've been dating Wriothesley long enough for him to find your cautiousness when it comes to his funds an issue.

On the first few dates you two shared, though he'd rather have pampered you with lavish meals and treats, he decided to look the other way when it came to how you'd always miraculously choose the most inexpensive dishes on the menu.

"I guess that's only polite...", he reasoned with himself, weighing whether or not he should mention to you that money was not a problem for him; but eventually, he thought it better to just give you time.

"Once we get more comfortable, it'll change."

And once you two did get comfortable, and he found that your behavior, in fact, did not change, his patience wore thin.

Why were you still so uncomfortable with him? It was almost an insult that you thought so little of him to assume he'd find paying for you a burden.

So, he takes to ordering for you. He knows what you like, and he knows if he lets you choose for yourself, the price will play a factor into what you order—even subconsciously.

Until you start choosing the most expensive meals on the menu, you're not allowed to make objections or requests without grounds like allergies or dislikes; which you won't have, because he knows you too well by now.

If you try to lie and tell him you don't like something he's picked for you, you will fail. Miserably, so.

"I don't like crab.", you argue—peeking over your menu at him in an attempt to hide your tells that he's become much too familiar with. He could read you like a book, and you have no idea how he's gained so much expertise in the field of you.

"Uh huh, sure, doll.", he doesn't even look at you, his attention on the waiter as he orders. "That one—", he says, flicking his finger to point at you, "is going to have golden crab.".

"And the crab will be market-priced. Will that be all right with you, sir?", the waiter feels the need to confirm, as market-priced foods are often quite expensive.

You jump in, "How mu—"

"That's fine.", Wriothesley interjects, giving you a stern look as he plucks the menu from your hands, revealing your red cheeks (a symptom of your fibbing), and passes it to the waiter before handing him his own. He doesn't need to hear the price, it's just a number, and you're worth more than all the mora in his bank account. No matter how ardently you can try to protest, he's committed to giving you what he knows you want—even if you hesitate to ask for it.

And watching from across the table how your eyes glimmer and beautiful cheeks turn rosy pink as the opulent flavors hit your tongue is more than enough compensation for him to recieve in return.

Neuvillette finds your financial prudence to be a quality of yours he actually quite admires. Too often, he sees thoughtless individuals land themselves in his court with grave, unsettled debts due to gambling or overspending, so your conscientiousness is to be commended!

However, when he is the one footing the bill, he sees no logical need for you to apply this virtue. He knows what he can afford, so you need not worry about it; and to see that telltale crease between your eyebrows as you worry yourself over what to choose on a menu with nothing priced less than ˙✧12500 mora, simply crushes him.

He can never sit right with himself when you have that anxious look on your face, it makes him feel like he’s failing as your partner. And over something so small as a handful of mora! He finds it necessary to talk you through the logic of the situation rather than your—for lack of better word—illogical fixation on a metaphysical number.

“Sweetheart,”, he calls in that soothing, deep vibration of his voice that feels like resting in the coolest, calmest waters of Fontaine, “I am the Chief Justice of Fontaine; as such, I’ve been entrusted to oversee both criminal and civil trials due to my ability to apply sound judgement to otherwise complex situations, unrivaled by anyone else in the nation.”

“…”, you sit quietly with your hands in your lap and blink at him, tongue-tied as his explanation begins to make perfect sense.

“…don’t you think I would have the discernment to manage my own finances?”, he concludes, hammering his claim into you with one last strike.

You have no rebuttal. He’s pinned you so effortlessly, it’s embarrassing. Sometimes, it’s a challenge to date a man with such vast practice in rhetorical argument.

Your worries being soothed with such tact actually makes you quite flustered, your cheeks and nose turning a soft shade of red as you pout in defeat.

The way your expression graduated from nervous to sheepish with just a few sentences of reasoning makes him chuckle, reaching out to lift your chin with the knuckle of his index finger with a cheery, but reserved smile on his face.

“Darling, I’ve brought you out tonight to spoil you. Do me the honor of having some fun while we’re here? There’s nothing more I want right now than to see your beautiful smile.”

You find it’s impossible to hold back the simper that blooms on your face from that remark, to which he smirks with pride.

This was the most fulfilling trial he’s held in a century.

#genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #neuvilette genshin #neuvilette x reader #neuvillete x you #wriothesley x you #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #genshin #neuvillette x gn reader #neuvillette x reader #wriothesley x gn reader

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Can I just say how dare you????? Your patchwork Childe fic????? I am not even joking I was already feeling my heart twist at the thought of facing death and not being able to tell the person you adore the most that you love them but THENNNNN you had to go and write that EXERPT from the LETTER AND I AM NOT KIDDING I HEAVED AN UGLY SOB and TEARS suddenly ran down my face it is one of the most beautifully written confessions I’ve read and the fact it was meant to be an after death confession??? Congrats you killed me it was so so so good

Oh thank you so much, love ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ this means so much to me. Truly one of the sweetest comments I’ve ever gotten on one of my works. I’ll really hold this in my heart forever. I hope you have a wonderful night ♡

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has anyone else grown into that feeling of platonic emotion towards Kaeya after playing genshin for a while? like I don’t know exactly how to explain it. It’s not that he’s gotten old or boring, but I guess after his story quest, I understand him on a deeper level? And that’s sort of dried up my crush on him but not in a bad way!!! Like I appreciate him in a different way? Which I know is kind of backwards since I literally just wrote a fic about him 50 mins ago lol

Let me know what you guys think I’m curious (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄‸o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝) if you don’t agree and are still down bad I wanna know!!!

Also ofc I’m going to keep writing lovie stuff for him because he deserves it ♡

#kaeya #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya

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꒰ა If only I were yours ໒꒱

Kaeya, your best friend and only your best friend, admires you while you get ready to go out and wonders what could be of the both of you if only you returned his feelings.

bestfriend!Kaeya x fem!reader II unrequited love, nonmutual pining

“You know, you’re already the most beautiful girl in the world, you don’t have to do all…this.”, Kaeya cooed into your ear with his warm, saccharine voice, watching dutifully as you agonized over your makeup for your night out. “You might do the other women who have to share the room with you a favor and take it easy.”

You only rolled your eyes, continuing to apply your lip liner like you hadn’t heard him, as you always did when Kaeya chided you for your vanity—like he was one to talk.

You never took him seriously; his little remarks of "Darling" this and "Beautiful" that, it was just his way of entertaining himself.

You understood that fact, and you could see past his flirtatious demeanor for the man he really was; roguish, risky, but overall deeply caring and kind, funny and, surprisingly, introverted despite his natural charisma.

That’s what made you such good friends.

You could take his poking, prodding, and any other sort of teasing remarks he dared to dish out, and he could rely on you to understand him deeper than anyone else did, care for him when he fell apart, but also be the firm hand that could keep him in line when he went too far.

When what he mistakes as fun, casual flirting ends up breaking another girl’s heart, you’re always the one to smack him upside the head for it. When he orders another bottle of dandelion wine for himself while barely able to keep from falling off his barstool, you’re the one to drag him out of Angel's Share by his ponytail. Archons knew no one else would. And though he bellyached through your scoldings about the sensitivities of a pure heart or importance of a healthy liver, he'd learn and change.

"Whatever would I do without you by my side?", he'd hum with that dashing grin across his face, like you hadn't just ripped him a new one.

But being Kaeya's best friend wasn't all mother-birding, he had your back when you needed it too.

And you needed it tonight.

Tonight was one of those nights where you were expected to show up at an event per a friend's request. You weren't all that interested in going out tonight anyway, but what made the situation a touch more daunting was the fact that an ex of yours would be present, to which you called for Kaeya's aid in attending alongside you as your plus one and awkward reunion deterrent---an offer he was thrilled to accept.

"Why do you even go to such lengths to look good for some pinhead that broke your poor heart?", Kaeya murmured, taking it upon himself to pin up your hair with a pretty silver clip that rested in your jewelry dish.

"I'm not doing this for him, I'm doing it to spite him.", you corrected.

"Darling, that is the exact same thing."

You gave him a warning look to which he conceded with a shrug and snuck his way into your chair---forcing you to split the space with him until you were finished getting ready. He rested his cheek on his hand as he admired your process, wondering why you cared so much about what some goon thought. You were too beautiful for him anyway.

Truthfully, in Kaeya's eyes, you were too beautiful for any man to have.

Well...he could think of one man deserving of you, but he would never tell you.

The connection you two had was too sacred, too old of a growth to be slashed and burned by his own romantic interests.

You'd been inseparable since the day you met; of course, he found you absolutely stunning upon first sight, a catalyst for his initial draw and desire to be close to you. You took his flirting with a grain of salt, laughing off his musings like they were jokes. What he never would have expected was, after that first conversation, he was determined to stick with you until the end. An initial introduction turned into you two spending the rest of the day chatting about whatever came to mind, talking like you'd known each other forever despite being perfect strangers. You drew deep confessions and secrets from him without even asking, all you had to do was sit there next to him and vulnerable words he'd otherwise keep close to his chest fell from his lips like rainfall. And you accepted them in stride, giving him your own intimate details in exchange. Since then, you two were attached at the hip, unlikely and unexpected confidants.

He'd planned on asking you out, he really did, but he didn't want to do so after just meeting you, it was too fast. However, the more time you spent together, the more precious and irreplaceable you became. He had never met anyone else like you, and he'd never felt more at home.

So, the brief windows he'd get to finally ask you out came and went, and he remained silent.

When he said he wouldn't know what to do without you, he meant it, so he wasn't about to risk losing you over a rejected confession.

That didn't stop him from often looking at you with a twinkle in his eye saved just for you, or twirling a strand of you hair around his finger when he gets bored, or paying for your food and holding in confidence what you'd only share with him.

He was just happy being as close to you as possible while you remained blissfully unaware...though, sometimes, the dull ache of desire he harbored in his chest twisted in ways that felt almost unbearable.

Though he tried his best to keep you from dating, always finding something wrong with the guys you were interested in, crashing your excursions or meeting your suitors at your door when they came to pick you up to interrogate them about their intentions with you, you'd still slip out of his grasp and into the arms of some new interest.

But even as you'd take your brief leaves from him to be with someone else, you'd always return to his side by the end of the day.

No matter how someone else would touch and kiss you the way he burned to, you were still his, closer to him than anyone else, and he could find some small relief in that fact.

And when your heart would inevitably be broken, he'd take to patiently repairing it time and time again. He bought you flowers or new perfume, cut or dyed your hair the way you wanted if you claimed you needed a change; although he had little experience with cutting hair that wasn't his own, he didn't trust anyone else with yours, so he insisted on doing it himself. He'd shop with you and help you choose a new wardrobe, go out with you to drink or party your cares away, hug you for hours and listened when you cried.

He'd do so happily, because when his own inner turmoil caused his eyes to leak and the scars from his past to open and bleed, you were the person who'd hold him and close his wounds.

For that, he'd always be grateful, even if one day, your arms wouldn't be open for him anymore. Maybe you'd eventually abandon him, or maybe they'd end up belonging to someone else, he hoped with every wish he'd get that the day would never come, but no matter what, he'd always remember those moments as the most precious memories he had to his name.

He did everything he could for you, gave you anything you asked for.

If only you'd ask for him.

As you fixed the clip he put in you hair, he looked on through the mirror at those eyes he found so inviting and thought about how, if he was yours, he'd make you feel better than anyone else would. He'd love you more than anyone else could.

Well, he already did, but then you'd know it.

But that risk that you'd say no, that you'd finally hold his deepest desires in the palm of your hand and send them right back to him, kept him quiet.

He'd rather have you like this than not have you at all.

With one last spritz of your perfume---a spray that not only covered you in your signature scent, but him as well due to his proximity, you were out of your chair and walking through your bedroom door in the direction of the party, tugging him along by the hand.

"Thank you for coming, Kaeya.", you said, smiling softly up at him with reassurance in your eyes. An expression that filled him with warmth and satisfaction.

"Anything.", he confirmed, and followed you out.

#hello loves ♡ I'm back #apologies for my absence #here to resume our regularly scheduled programming #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact kaeya #genshin x female reader #kaeya x fem!reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich #kaeya genshin impact #kaeya imagines #genshin kaeya #kaeya fluff #kaeya x you #kaeya genshin x reader

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welcome to my blog ₊˚⊹♡

II request guidelines II commission info II fanfic masterlist II Ko-fi II

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꒰ა request guidelines ໒꒱

What I will write:

.ೃ࿔ Platonic or romantic relationships between reader and a character

.ೃ࿔ Any appropriate genre or trope (hurt/comfort, fluff, exes to lovers, etc.)

.ೃ࿔ AUs: modern AU or any other AU you decide to create

.ೃ࿔ Any theme you would like to explore is also gratefully accepted!

.ೃ࿔ Headcannons, drabbles & lil fics

What I will not write:

.ೃ࿔ NSFW

.ೃ࿔ character x character

.ೃ࿔ The characters causing or enduring any kind of abuse

.ೃ࿔ Any sort of hatred such as homophobia, transphobia, racism, etc. 

.ೃ࿔ I don't write for male!reader

.ೃ࿔ Dottore (for obvious reasons) and characters that are minors (Fischl, Bennet, Xingqiu, etc.) in a romantic light. This includes characters like Nahida, who are technically hundreds of years old but still children. 

Other rules:

.ೃ࿔ I don't allow my work to be translated and/or reposted even with credit to me

.ೃ࿔ I only post here on tumblr, I don't have an AO3 or share my work on other platforms

.ೃ࿔ Don't ever apologize to me for sending me an ask or assume you're bothering me, I ADORE hearing from you and every message I receive is a joy to open ♡

.ೃ࿔ If you're not entirely sure if the request you want to make fits the rules, go ahead and send it anyway or ask me a question about it. I won't take offense or be disturbed at all.

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fanfic masterlist⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

Ayato x reader

when you're Kamisato Ayato's sweetheart

Childe x reader

patchwork Childe's anger Childe x burnt out reader comfort fic your lover's lifeless eyes when Childe falls for you ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ what I know to be true ⋆｡˚ ೀ⋆｡˚ ༘

Diluc x reader

I've given it your name

Itto x reader

when Itto falls for you

Kaeya x reader

Kaeya x plus-sized!reader high school sweetheart Kaeya Kaeya's shy sweetheart when Kaeya falls for you if only I were yours

Wriothesley x reader

This Garden You've Grown⋆˚✿˖° part one II part two II part three Wriothesley x asexual!reader headcannons ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ a mid-day pick-me-up ⋆౨ৎ˚ ⋆ ˚｡

various genshin men x reader ♡

holding hands with the genshin men cooking with the genshin men types of hugs the genshin men love how the genshin men see their wife genshin men's love languages ♡ part one II part two II part three songs that remind me of the genshin men + lil fics when the genshin men's sweetheart is their pick me up genshin men with a sweetheart who is stress eating genshin men with an extra bubbly sweetheart when they come home hurt what the genshin boys plan for date night how the genshin men respond to you crying the kind of pants the genshin men love seeing you in --- very suggestive you're worth all the mora in the world (Neuvillete & Wriothesley)

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♡ Hello loves ♡ I'm doing a little bit of blog maintenance right now so please excuse the multiple non-fic related posts I'll be making ♡ I hope today is treating you all well!!

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hello my darlings ♡ I have a little announcement!

I started a Ko-fi page!

If you'd like to, on the page you can send me a little donation or request a commission! Instructions for commission requests are listed under the commissions tab and guidelines for your requests are under the posts tab!

At the moment, I will have two commission slots available!

Of course, I will still be responding to my asks because I love to hear from you all and make your daydreams into full works, but I can't always get to them in a timely fashion. The commission slots only exist as a way to make your work a priority with a specific turn around time (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Take care loves, I hope this season is treating you well and, as always, I want to thank you for the love and support you give to my page. It really means the world to me ♡

#glitter's announcements⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

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this garden you've grown ⋆˚✿˖° part three

a continuation of part one and part two, where an unexpected meeting with the Duke of Meropide becomes a budding romance between the two of you that the entirety of his fortress watches unfold with anticipation. But the closer the two of you grow, the closer you're brought to question whether you're deserving to be called "duchess".

♡ This addition to the series was commissioned so I send all my love and biggest thanks to my first commissioner ♡ This request was simply a dream come true!

Wriothesley x fem!reader II romance, fluff!

The sound of the lock on Wriothesley’s door clicking back into place upon your exit marks the third time today you’ve left The Duke’s office with messy hair and smudged lipstick.

You swear you were only in there to get his approval on some adjustments you’re making to the garden and ask him questions about his preferences, but you can only get so far into your schpiel before the dreamy way he eyes your lips throws you off kilter.

“My lord,—”

“—Wriothesley.”, he corrected with a stern edge in his voice that asserted his statement was not a request. The voice he normally uses with convicts and unruly subordinates, but that gets the butterflies in your stomach flitting about like they’re on a sugar rush. He’s not blind to the way it turns your cheeks pink.

“Wriothesley,” you complied with a shy smile, “I’d like to change the fertilizer we’ve been using in the garden…”

You watched as the look in his eyes grew soft and he tilted his head to gaze at you from a different angle as he stood behind his desk before you—you took notice that he always stood when you entered the room, a sign of respect you hadn’t seen him replicate for anyone else. The affection in his demeanor made your heart sputter, but you persevered. 

“...the…the one we’ve been using salinizes the soil, so I’d like to try this brand from Sumeru.”, you slid the paper detailing what the soil contained and its cost over to him. He didn’t break his watch on you to look at it or its price, he simply nodded. After burning under his infatuated gaze for another handful of seconds, you averted your gaze to try to get through your next statement without him derailing you. 

“...I know it’s a little more expensive than the brand we’re using but…”

“I’ll put in the order right away.”, his firm, definitive statement sent your heart skipping once more. 

You tried to thank him, but your words caught in your mouth when you turned your attention off of the floor and back to him. He was staring at you hungrily again, an expression he’s neglected to fix ever since the first kiss the two of you shared in his office a couple of weeks ago. An expression that told you exactly what he was thinking about. You’d thought two long kisses today from the last two check-ins you had would be enough to satiate him, but that was clearly not the case. 

With a soft, dreamy sigh, you gathered your courage to lean up and press another soft peck to his lips, he watched you the whole way up with that handsome, proud smirk on his face. He ate up any affection you’d show him with the greatest satisfaction, and found your nervousness to give it adorable. 

Of course, he met your shy lips with fervor, bringing a hand up to tangle in your soft hair and encircling your waist with one of his arms to draw you closer.

Once the two of you had crossed the threshold from distant, longing looks to close physical affection, you found that the serious, dignified Duke was fiendish for touching and kissing you. He was like a man starved, craving you every minute of the day. Any type of allowance you’d give him was met with gratitude, whether it be capturing your lips with his or something as small as holding your hand. In every case, you couldn’t be in the same room with him without him getting his hands on you. He loved the softness of your skin, the flush of your cheeks, the sound of your shaky, excited voice. It made him greedy, but he wouldn’t apologize for it. 

Not only would he indulge in you while secluded in his expansive office, but also in the various nooks and crannies scattered about Meropide that he’d catch and pull you into throughout the day. 

He was like a wolf, constantly hunting and circling you…but you found it exciting. To be something desired so vitally by him that he felt the need to seek you out sent thrilled shivers up your spine and had you looking over your shoulders in anticipation every so often while tending to your garden throughout the day. 

You giggle to yourself as you remember the feeling, walking down the hall while fixing your hair and waving shyly at staff you happened to pass by on your way out with The Duke’s approval of your new fertilizer.

Your love affair was Meropide’s biggest “not-so-secret” secret—giving the fortress’s gossip industry a delicious meal to savor and share. 

Speculators would discuss a possible marriage proposal in the works; the women of the fortress swooned over what he might say to you, how and where he may do it…

Would he spring the question on you in the middle of your garden? No, they wouldn’t have that—a proposal for the beautiful relationship the two of you share must be equally if not more beautiful! Maybe he’d take you to a destination? They’d chat about what areas of Fontaine looked best during this time of year, or ask the outlanders about the prettiest harbors and havens of their homelands. The Duke’s closest subordinates were tasked by the nosy citizens with delivering pamphlets of travel guides, classy event decorations, jewelers and any other inspirations for a proposal to his desk, hoping he’d catch the hint and just make you their duchess already! You were so endlessly caring and kind to them, so crucial to the lifeblood of the fortress, they couldn’t risk their Duke letting you get away. Beyond that, they were tired of watching you labor away in the dirt wearing your common clothes and aspired to see you strut down their halls adorned in his noble colors! Archons knew you deserved it. 

Many of the older ladies of the fortress also mused about a possible heir to the duchy in the making and if the two of you were already in the process of creating one. They giggled and blushed at the thought, peeking at you from around corners to see if you’d gained any weight in your belly, asking you if you’d been feeling sick recently or offering you certain “aids” such as ginseng tea—all to your great confusion. You appreciated their doting, but you couldn’t imagine what for!

And special deliveries of figs and oysters to Wriothesley’s office certainly had him raising an eyebrow. 

They even made a list of baby names in preparation for the announcement they were praying for, secretly polling the Meropide residents on which name they liked best. Meropide’s citizens took the decision very seriously and some even formed election parties in favor of a specific name. You’d wonder why you were overhearing so much bickering over matters so small as the distinction between “Maximus” and “Maxwell” as you walked about the fortress. Why ever would a discussion of a name get someone so heated? Little did you know, this was their future Duke or Duchess they were fighting over—the heir would have to have a name befitting their title! (like it was their decision and not yours and Wriothesley’s. And there wasn’t even a baby or discussion of a baby between you two to begin with!)

“Caspian” and “Tallulah” won the popular vote.   

While the whole of Meropide was planning your proposal, wedding, and design for your baby’s nursery, you and Wriothesley were still in an unspoken period of stasis. 

Neither of you had blatantly confessed your feelings to the other; the both of you just wordlessly moved forward in tandem, like the big step of physical affection you took together wasn’t a step at all—it was just the natural course you were to walk together. This left you to only assume the intentions of the other. You unfortunately believed you were most likely just a passing entanglement for him; he was a Duke after all, his serious hunt for a partner would no doubt be among the rest of the nobility. You were just a commoner, a new citizen of his fortress, that’s all. 

He, like the rest of Meropide, believed you were his future wife, and acted accordingly. 

Although you tried not to get your hopes up, the things he would whisper to you while you were in his arms would have your fluttering heart wishing and pleading for something more…

“You smell like heaven, my lady.”, his voice would rumble, his nose against your temple as he pressed soft kisses to your hair. “Just like your lavender. I wish I could keep you by my side at night, I’d sleep so well. But it’s better that I don’t, otherwise, I’d have to keep you there—I could never rest without you again.”

He’d hold your face gingerly in between his hands and brush his thumbs across your cheeks in awe, saying, “If you told me you were a doll come to life, I would believe you.”, then press a soft kiss to your nose, “you’re too perfect to be real.”. 

You especially felt like something more than just a bit of fun to him when he’d had a bad day at work and would ask for you alone, to slip his arms around your torso and hold you desperately close; like he lived off of you, like you held him together. You’d let him hold you like that for as long as he needed, sometimes even hours. 

But you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, because if you were to get your heart broken by Wriothesley, you’d never ever recover. You’d made such a life for yourself here; you loved the garden you kept down here, you loved the citizens of Meropide and were devoted to making sure they’re fed nutritious and lively meals…and you loved Wriothesley. You loved him more than you thought it was possible to love another person. You wanted to stay by his side, stay here in Meropide, for the rest of your life. But if you were to confess and be rejected by him, the humiliation and grief would be unbearable. You’d have to leave, move back to the city in the overworld, abandon your home, all you’ve worked for, and all you loved. So you were content to remain a wordless association with The Duke; you’d take what he’d give you and ask for nothing more….

…If only you knew that he’d give you the world—you were his, and he cherished you like the most precious pearl the ocean has ever and could ever make. 

He thought he’d made that painfully clear, but shy little thing you were, you needed to hear it. 

Which is why it caught you so off guard when, in the middle of you watering a new section of the garden you’d prepared to experiment with legumes, Wriothesley had snuck up behind you and slipped your free hand into his, interlacing your fingers and giving you a small squeeze before springing a question you were wildly unprepared for on you.

“My lady, would you do me the honor of joining me as my date to the Epiclese ball tomorrow night?”

The way a man of such high stature would refer to you as “my lady” never failed to make you flush; it was one of those small things Wriothesley would do that made you feel like something greater than you are, like someone special to him that he put on a pedestal—a place above himself. But in this moment, you were less taken aback by the honorific and floored by the question.

The Epiclese ball was the grandest event in Fontaine, held at the famed opera house once a year for the Fontanian nobility—only those sitting in the highest places or holding the most important positions were invited to attend. Naturally, Wriothesley received an invitation, since he is arguably one of the most important men in the nation…but you were very far from important, let alone memorable. Not a single individual of the nobility knew who you were or your name, and they were justified in their ignorance—you were inconsequential at best, nothing at worst. 

This invitation meant you’d be wrapped around Wriothesley’s arm in a place you were never meant to be in. 

…would he really be proud of being seen with you?

In your shock, you’d stared at Wriothesley with wide eyes and parted lips for too long of a moment. He’d find this expression quite cute if it didn’t make him nervous that he caused you some form of discomfort.

“...I don’t have anything to wear.”, was all your jarred mind could come up with.

His concerned expression melted away into his charming grin once again, making your heart flutter and temporarily forget what you were so anxious about. 

“I’ll prepare something for you.”, he said, a glimmer in his eye betraying the fact that he already knew what he wanted to dress you in…or that he’d already prepared it. 

That excitement in his gaze broke your resolve; you couldn’t say no to him when he looked so happy at the prospect of attending with you, even if the thought made your knees want to buckle and anxiety twist in your stomach.

So you nodded, your acceptance met with a grateful kiss to your cheek. 

“I’ll have it waiting in your room when you have finished with your work tomorrow. We’ll leave for the party at 9:00 pm. Alright?”, he squeezed your hand reassuringly once again, drawing a sigh from you as you took comfort in his touch. 

“Alright.”

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

The high rotunda ceilings and large, crystalline chandeliers that hung from them over the fanciful ballroom of the Opera Epiclese had you both struck with wonder and feeling incredibly small. You’d never been more out of your depth in your life. You couldn’t help but nervously shift on your feet as you and Wriothesley waited at the top of the stairs to be introduced. 

You had no reason to feel intimidated, with the way you were adorned, not a single individual in the room would take you for anything less than a duchess. 

When you’d entered your living quarters after finishing up in the garden earlier that day, to your surprise, several attendants and beauticians were waiting for you alongside a vanity full of products. You felt a bit silly that Wriothesley had led you to believe you’d be getting ready alone, but maybe he neglected to inform you since he predicted that you’d make a fuss about not needing so much care and resources. If you were too timid to ask for nice fertilizer, how could you accept his offer to be made-up like a queen? You wouldn't, so you supposed he’d made the right call. 

Steam flowed into the room from a bath that was drawn for you in your restroom, and the most beautiful gown you’d ever been honored to be in the presence of was laid out for you on your bed. You couldn’t believe you would be wearing such a thing tonight; it was so refined, you feared that it may just slip off of you on its own for not being a worthy enough wearer. 

The attendants spent hours on your look—carefully tucking and curling each strand of your hair in silver clips and coils, gingerly coating your lips and cheeks with rouge, silver glitter on your lids, shimmer on your shoulders and collarbones so they’d glow when hit by the ballroom’s lights. You had no idea how Wriothesley knew your measurements, but the dress fit like a glove—and it held onto you tight, it wasn’t going anywhere. Your gown was of his colors, a deep red velvet fabric that ran all the way from your sweetheart neckline down to splay out on the floor around you. The dress was sleeveless, but a black fur was draped over your shoulders and clipped together at your chest to hang around you and shield the majority of your exposed skin from view. The look teetered between displaying your beautiful features and keeping them obscured for only one person’s view. 

When you finished being dolled up and dressed, you stood back to look at yourself in the vanity mirror. 

The woman looking back at you was just as surprised as you were when you met her eyes—you’d never seen her before in your life. She was beautiful. She looked like the perfect picture of elegance and grace. You tilted your head at her, and she tilted hers back; her eyes held that same shade yours did. Her bone structure and arch of her eyebrows, length of her neck and arms, pout of her lips and angle of her nose, all the same…but she was so much better than you. It made your stomach grow heavy with envy—she was exactly the woman that deserved to be with a person of the nobility, especially one as special as Wriothesley. You were so jealous of her…

But you realized, that was you.  

You would’ve cried at the sight of yourself if it weren’t for the attendants fanning your eyes and fretting about you ruining their hard work. 

You were just so overcome with emotion. You looked like you belonged exactly where you wanted to be—by Wriothesley’s side. You were wearing his colors, adorned with silver pieces that matched the same shine as the buttons on his coat and handcuffs at his hip. The way you were dressed not only told the world that you were worthy to share a room with nobles, but that you belonged to a specific noble in particular; one of the most prestigious at that, and the one that claimed your heart. With one look at you, no soul in the room would doubt that you were Wriothesley’s and Wriothesley’s alone.

You tried to steady your breathing as your date took your arm in his and brought you forth to the top of the grand staircase. He noticed your panic and gave you a reassuring smile—a warm expression that greatly differed from the typical wolfish grin that made you fizzle. This one quelled the tension in your body, it made you feel safe and cared for. 

It promised you that you could relax when you were with him; nothing could go wrong when Wriothesley was looking at you with that smile

As you two stood at the precipice of the herald announcing your arrival to the ballroom, he leaned in close to your ear and whispered in a quiet rumble, “I hate this part too, but I’ll enjoy it this time—I’m looking forward to hearing my name said with yours as a pair.” 

The heart in your chest stuttered at the confession. You hadn’t thought about it like that; here, you felt like you were being thrown to the crocodiles, when really, you were being introduced at the side of the man you loved…

With a soft smile, you realized you were looking forward to hearing your name paired with his too. It’d give you a moment to live out a daydream where you could pretend you and Wriothesley were an actual couple.

The herald must have needed his eyes checked, because although you and Wriothesley were not married, instead of introducing the two of you as Duke Wriothesley and his date, he confidently called to the room with his full chest;

“The Duke Wriothesley and Duchess [name] of Meropide.”

You comported yourself, white knuckling your grace and taking care not to show your shock and embarrassment to the crowd although your mind was shrieking. You braced for Wriothesley to correct the herald, for the herald to make the distinction to the crowd that you and him were, in fact, not together…but the humiliation never came. 

Wriothesley just held you closer with the most satisfied smirk on his lips as he led you down the steps into the ballroom, taking care to look back at you and make sure you were holding your head high.

It was hard not to when he looked at you like you were the brightest star in the sky. 

The hall was filled with hushed whispers and gossip regarding the two of you, the nobles squabbling about not having known that the duke had gotten married and why they hadn’t been invited to such an event. As you walked by, you caught whispers of your name—whispers you’d prepared yourself to hear beforehand about not being fit to stand next to Wriothesley…but instead, you heard oohs and ahhs about how beautiful you were, how you and The Duke looked like a perfect match, how they wanted their husbands to look at them the way he looked at you. 

That last comment made you snap back to reality and turn to face Wriothesley again, only to be met with his warm, amorous eyes drawing over every inch of you as if he was committing your image to memory. He looked enthralled by you—like the entirety of this ball and all of its regalia could fall away and he would still be more than satisfied with having you alone. Nothing else mattered to him. 

The way your cheeks painted with rouge grew even pinker when you met his gaze made him chuckle. He couldn’t understand what still had you so shy around him. He certainly wasn’t shy around you anymore, but still, he found it adorable. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips; not a scandalous one shared between lovers at an otherwise dignified banquet…but a respectable, loving one between a husband and wife. The way it felt to be treated so dearly to him, especially shamelessly in a place where he needed to maintain heirs, made you feel like you weren’t just some moment in Wriothesley’s life, you were forever.  

When he pulled away, his heart swelled at the expression on your face; soft and puppy eyed. His signature wolfish grin shone back at you. 

“What did I do to earn such a look, fair lady?”, he hummed in amusement, standing so close that you were almost wrapped within his long coat alongside him, so he could lean over and listen to you speak close to his ear.

“...are you going to tell them we aren’t married…?”, you asked, timidly.

“I’m more inclined to tell them we happened to have forgotten our wedding bands on our bedside table.”

His comment sent those butterflies in your stomach that adored him so much fluttering again, but you pouted at him impatiently.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”, he countered with ease, bringing your left hand up to his face to ghost his lips over your ring finger. “If you’re worried about the title, don’t be. I wouldn’t want anyone else to have it.”

Your heart felt like it was just one more word away from rupturing. You’d spent so long bottling up your hopes, so long reminding yourself that you were not enough…to be given exactly what you’d been dreaming about since the day Wriothesley had entered your garden would certainly make you burst.

“...why not?”

He smiled down at you like the answer was obvious.

“Because the title is for the woman I love. So it is yours.”

You really did nearly explode, your knees buckling as your breath caught in your lungs. He pulled you flush up against him to steady you, laughing lightly at your reaction. You fussed too much, but he adored that about you; he just hoped that as you settled into your title, you’d allow yourself to be more demanding with what you deserve. 

Until then, he’d shower you with all of the assurances you needed.

“Do you need to hear it again? I love you, [name]. The love I have for you was made by you—you sewed it within me with your own hands; it is a feeling no other has raised in me nor will be able to replicate because it is yours alone. You claimed my heart like you’d claimed that barren patch of land I met you in and grew love from it like you did the lavender that helps me rest at night.”

He was relentless with his musings, tilting your chin up with his thumb and forefinger to make sure you were accepting every word he was giving you. The glitter of your eyes on him promised him that. 

“Then I brought you home, and you continued to grow your love in my fortress and cared for my people hundreds of leagues under the sea. They love you, I love you, and I would never let another dig their hands into the soil you cultivated, no matter who they are or how noble their blood. Both Meropide and I have accepted you as ours, so the place of duchess is rightfully yours.”

Now, you really were going to cry. You could hear the shrieks of anguish from the many attendants who'd doting on your makeup all afternoon. Wriothesley only chuckled and fetched his handkerchief, using his hold on your chin to tilt your face so he could dab at your tears before they smudged your mascara.

You sniffled and spoke through your shaky breaths, "I love you and Meropide more than I've ever loved anything else. I'd be honored to be your duchess."

Without another word, you leaned up your teary face to press an ardent kiss to his lips---like you were sealing a contract between the two of you.

You'd be his, and he, his fortress, and the entirety of his duchy would be yours in return.

Yours to continue to bless with life, yours to care for and maintain, and yours to bring to blossom full of love---he'd watch and admire you every step of the way.

And you'd both be confidently fibbing to the inquiring other guests tonight that you had indeed left your wedding bands at home.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x fem reader #wriothesley x you #genshin x reader fluff #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #wriothesley imagines

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AND SAW THAT UR REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

Could i request childe x fem!reader comfort fic? Reader is feeling overworked and burnt out and when she sees her boyfriend when he came over, all her built up emotions come crashing out. You can decide how he comforts her! :3

Awww thank you love!!!

I didn't know how much I needed this fic until you requested it ♡ thank you darling now we can all give our stresses to Childe. Lord knows he'll handle them for us.

Childe x fem!reader II comfort, fluff

content warnings: self deprecating thoughts

The pressure of the room bore down on you like an elephant sitting on your chest. You’d made so many promises, commitments, stacked mounds of responsibilities on yourself…to the point where it felt like every square inch of your brain was occupied with no space left for you to rest. 

Your thoughts were buzzing with alarm bells ringing with upcoming deadlines or the imaginary voices of people you had to apologize to and ask for extensions from—and you couldn’t even jump on the work you had to postpone now because you were paralyzed with exhaustion. Your mind kept screaming for you to go go go! but your body just couldn’t keep up. 

So here you found yourself on your couch, staring up at the ceiling while shaking with anxiety, your brain pulsating with a mix of fatigue and self-loathing. 

Why couldn’t you get it right?

Why couldn’t you get anything right?

You were so lost in your despair, you didn’t catch the large, slender hand waving a few times in front of your face, nor did you hear the warm timbre of your boyfriend’s voice calling your name. 

What finally shook you from your stupor was the feeling of rough lips gingerly meeting your forehead.

Your eyes finally focused on Childe’s crooked grin, his blue eyes brightened with amusement. He must’ve let himself into your apartment. 

Childe was so good at everything he did. 

He held down one of the hardest jobs you could imagine having; a Fatui harbinger with hundreds of subordinates awaiting his commands, mounds of paperwork and physical labor paired with the emotional labor of working in the brutal environment…and he was fine. He kept going. He never asked for a break or took time off; he’d just cram the things he wanted to do into his already tight schedule and delegate what spilled over. Sure, he’d come home tired, he’d need extra loving from you to recharge after a particularly grueling mission…but he would be back up and at ‘em the next day, running into the next battle right after the last…

Which made you feel so morbidly inadequate. 

Even now, he’s just come home from a twelve hour work day without an ounce of wear on his face—a bundle of joy and energy. He probably planned a date for you too, or grabbed something for dinner on the way home, or picked up some extra paperwork during the work day so he could sleep in with you tomorrow—he just achieved so much.

His life is so much harder than yours and he’s not half the mess that you are. In fact, he isn’t a mess at all. 

It made you want to cry. 

Oh, no, you were crying. 

Your boyfriend’s face paled in horror as he watched you sniffle and burst into a fountain of tears upon the mere sight of him. 

“Hey, hey, sweetheart! What’s the matter?”, a nervous chuckle fell from his throat as he combed his fingers through your hair comfortingly—twisting one of the soft locks around his pointer finger subconsciously, a little habit he picked up long ago when he’d finally earned the pleasure of cuddling you and touching the parts of you he so admired. 

“I’m nothing like you.”, was all you could sputter out as sobs wracked your tired body. 

He tilted his head in confusion, “...that’s…right?”, he didn’t understand what made the distinction so blasphemous. 

“I just–”, you fumbled for your words as your brain short-circuited its vocabulary, “I suck so much.”

“WHAT?”

You’ve thrown your poor boyfriend through a loop. You’re the most incredible person he’s ever met! He’s charted the course for the rest of his life on the sole mission of making you happy, of giving you everything you’ve ever wanted, because he’d fallen so deeply in love with every inch of you. You were perfect. How could you think any differently when he spends every waking moment of his life telling you that? 

He doesn’t need to hear anything else. From the sight of you alone—your sunken eyes lined with dark circles, your eyebrows scrunched together in painful stress, your cheeks devoid of color, he could tell your body was quitting on you and your mind was suffering for it. 

“Aaah, sweetheart, don’t tell me you’ve been biting off more than you can chew again…or rather, not biting anything at all—when was the last time you’ve eaten?”

His question did not require an answer—he was aware of your habit of neglecting your physical needs over your metaphysical demands. Without another word, he snatched the fuzzy blanket draped on the end of the couch and collected his adorable little bundle of tears up into his arms before carting her off to the kitchen. 

You squirmed in his grasp, trying to push your way back onto your feet, but he wasn’t having it—taking both of your wrists in one of his large hands while holding you in one arm, tugging you over to his lips for a quick kiss as he never broke his stride. Childe’s strength was initially a big draw of yours to him; you drooled over him when he’d carry heavy things for you, swoon watching him train…but now that you’re his other half, his physical prowess gets to be a real pain in the ass when he decides to manhandle you. 

He carries you all the way to the kitchen counter where he plops you down on the edge and wraps you up the cozy blanket—an opponent easily and tactfully subdued. 

When you try to get up, whining that you have work you should be doing, he only slips his arms around you in a tight, loving vice; keeping you prisoner in his blanket cocoon. 

“Ah ah ah! Not so fast. You may be ignoring her cries, but I hear her loud and clear—your body needs rest.” 

“Childe, I’m serious! I’m already behind—”

“And you’ll fall even further behind if you keep pushing yourself past your limit. Tonight, you’re done thinking about any tasks you have lined up. The world’s not going to end if you save your work for tomorrow.”

He was accepting no further argument as he sighed into the big warm embrace, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck and humming contentedly. As he squeezed, you felt all of the stress drain out of you, letting go of your worries for the time being. No matter what flurry your mind might be spinning in, it’s like your body was programmed to go limp in Childe’s arms—he overwhelmed you with a feeling of safety. Nothing could go wrong when you were in your boyfriend’s hold, he guaranteed that. 

He pressed kisses to your tear-soaked cheeks, cooing reassurances to you between each one. 

“Your worth is not equal to the amount of work you accomplish.”

“In my eyes, you’ll never fall short of anything but perfect.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

For the first time in what felt like days, you were able to take a deep breath and feel the tension in your shoulders release. The stress fell off of you like a cloud of smoke, leaving you sleepy and spent while huddled in Childe’s embrace. He couldn't help himself from stealing a few long, indulgent kisses from your pouty lips---he was a man, after all, and your sweet, sleepy face made him want to devour you.

He chuckled as he felt your body stop fighting and yield to rest—a little win for him against his most beloved, adorable opponent. He pressed one last kiss to your temple letting go of you and strutting over to the bag of groceries by the fridge.

“I grabbed some stuff for dinner on my way here, I'll whip something good up for you.”

“I knew it.”, you thought, that same pang of incapability stringing your heart before you took another deep breath and let it go.

Yes, Childe has the capacity to go above and beyond in ways you can’t right now, but that doesn’t mean you’ll always fall short. You two are completely different people, you have strengths he doesn’t just as he has strengths you don’t. As you watch him roll up his sleeves and get to work chopping vegetables---your eyes roaming over the deep scars of battle that mar his skin, you recall how Childe struggles to open up about his emotions, while you can coax him into talking about his feelings and giving him the support he typically denies himself. You have a capacity for compassion many fail to mirror, bringing brightness to the lives of those around you—even strangers. And you have a cordial charm that draws others in, a big reason you’ve been saddled with the pile of work you’re suffocating under—people find you reliable and trustworthy. 

That’s why you and Childe work so well together; one of you can pick up what the other drops. You hold each other up so you can both move forward. 

So you know you can trust him when he tells you you’re perfect, because you think he’s perfect too ♡

#genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact #childe x reader #childe x you #genshin childe #genshin ajax #genshin fluff #childe fluff #genshin impact tartaglia #tartaglia #childe x fem!reader #tartaglia x fem!reader #tartaglia x you #genshin impact x reader #childe imagines #genshin imagines

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

Hello, I hope you are doing well ^^

I wanted to ask you, if you’d want to take this request of mine ? If you are not comfortable with writing this, then I completely understand.

Would you mind writing headcanons or a small fic with Wriothesley and an asexual reader ? (gender neutral or female, you may decide) Like do you think he would be willing to date a person, who is asexual ? (When someone is asexual it means, that the person has little to no sexual attraction towards any gender) Would he be fine with having a sexless relationship ? If it’s not too much, could you also write the reader as a person, who is true to themselves and isn’t willing to compromise on their asexuality ? Who has a “take it or leave it” kind of attitude and confident about their boundaries ?

I would appreciate that very much, since I don’t like the whole concept of “changing yourself for your partner to be happy”. It’s just so frustrating 😭

Please write your honest opinion about this, I don’t mind a bit of hurt, if he wouldn’t accept it.

Have a great day/night ! ^^

Girl

Girl

How DARE you imply that Wriothesley wouldn't love you because you're asexual. He's never heard a more absurd thing in his life!

"If you think your sexuality a shortcoming to me, you're dead wrong."

I promise you, I will be 100% honest.

Wriothesley x asexual!reader II headcannons, fluff

content warnings: surface-level mentions of sex as just a subject and nothing more. not suggestive.

The first time Wriothesley met you, he turned red from the tips of his ears down to his chest. He thought you were so pretty. And you were so sweet too! Your shy smile and pink cheeks made his heart melt. The glimmer of your eyes facinated him, he couldn't bring himself to look away from you; no matter how embarrasing it was to be caught staring. His enchanment had him completely vulnerable to you, any request that rang from your sweet voice he would follow like divine law. If that request happened to be becoming the duchess of Meropide, he'd jump to marry you in a second. He's never been so forward or bold with someone, but you were special; you were someone he could not risk letting out of his life.

When he found out you were asexual, he just went "Hm, ok", and moved on with the conversation. It changed nothing about what he felt for you.

What's important to Wriothesley is love; it's connecting with someone on a deep, emotional level and seeing them in all that they are---seeing them in an intimate way that the rest of the world doesn't get to. Sex does not take priority over that for him.

The thought of you changing your sexuality or performing for him never even crossed his mind. Like...if you don't feel sexual attraction, you're not gonna feel it. That's like 1 + 1 = 2. He'd never be so ignorant as to think switching sexuality on command is possible for someone to do. And he'd especially never want you to erase your physical boundaries for him. The mere idea of you having to make yourself uncomfortable to such a serious degree for him makes him sick to his stomach (if the thought even entered his head in the first place.).

If you bring up an alternative like an open relationship, he'll reject it without hesitation. Wriothesley doesn't want an open relationship, he wants you; all other women pale in comparison to the one that has his heart. He'll vehemently refuse, even give you a stern "This is not up for discussion." when he gets tired of your justifying (if you ever brought it up in the first place, that is.).

And even though your relationship isn't sexual, he's still all over you.

Wriothesley is huge on cuddling. He'd hold you all day if he could.

After his brutal work day, the only thing he wants to do is wordlessly pull you into his arms, hold you close to his chest and squeeze you like a teddy bear. It's so fulfilling just to have the woman he so deeply adores in his arms. You're like his own personal bundle of lavender; instantly relaxing him the moment he presses his nose to the crown of your head or dips down to your cheek and breathes in your scent. Every time he makes contact with you draws an audible sigh of relief from him.

His hand finding yours and eveloping it in a firm embrace, drawing your hair back into a ponytail and letting it slide out of his fist---over and over adjusting how it sits on your shoulders or runs down your back, picking fallen eyelashes off of your cheeks and letting you blow them off of his finger to make a wish; these little touches, these intimate moments he gets to share with only you, satisfy him like nothing else can.

So don't you DARE imply that he wouldn't be fulfilled in a relationship with you just because you won't perform for him in the bedroom. So much more takes priority over that, and he never finds a single thing about you lacking. You are perfect for him, and for that, he strives to make every inch of himself perfect for you too.

"I love you, sweetheart. Not a single other person in this world can compare to the essence of you; all you let me and me alone see. I've come to know that your soul is made of the most precious, delicate porcelain; the details and colors of it, it's a miracle to witness. I know royals would kill to have a piece of art that even remotely mirrors your spirit; and you've generously let me indulge in you at no cost or sacrifice---though I'd willingly give any worldly belonging of mine if it meant I'd get a moment to savor you. You are my aurora borealis; a vision I am lucky to see every day, and would be content to spend the rest of my life watching from the ground below you."

Thank you so much for this request, dear ♡

#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x fem reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact #wriothesley headcanons #asexual reader

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

GIRL your writing is so beautiful and addictive especially your wriothesley x reader😭❤️I love the way you described reader. gosh Idk if I fell in love wrio or reader haha I hope you'll post more work <3

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!! I'm so so happy you enjoyed it ♡ I've got another Wrio x reader on deck so it'll be reaching your dashboard soooooon!!! Thank you so much for your words of support ♡ they mean the world to me! Have a lovely lovely night or day!!!

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

♡𖠣 patchwork♡𖠣 II childe x fem!reader II mutual pining, childhood friends to lovers, cheery epilouge

Childe needs to see you before he meets his end; a precipice he is very near to by the time you find him miles from your home, crawling through the snow. To his confusion, you've taken him in and dedicated yourself to nursing him back to health. Little did you both know, your love for one another ran deep enough to heal all wounds.

content warnings: Childe is badly injured so there are descriptions of blood, broken ribs, aches and pains. Descriptions of applying medical stitches to close open wounds. Nothing too descriptive. I am not a doctor so do not try this at home. Mutually possessive themes. A suggestive comment in the epilouge. Let me know if I should add anything else!

Also, happy Thanksgiving everyone :) I am so grateful to each and every person who finds my work and enjoys it; these past six months of my blog being up and running has been so fulfilling and magical. I'm so lucky to have this community ♡ I'm sending all my love to you today ♡

“Blow.”

Childe puckered his split, dry lips and let out a weak breath---no power behind the gust at all. The hot steam that rose from the spoon you held to his lips mocked him; such a small opponent, unshaken and uncooled by his efforts.

You sighed; he wasn’t healing as fast as he should be...meaning, he most likely was ignoring your instructions and not adhering to his strict bed rest.

You were straddling him where he lied on the bed in your guest room, propped up by a mountain of pillows---including the ones from your own bed and the throw pillows from your couch; a desperate attempt to make him as comfortable as possible, which was a feat not easily achieved given his broken state. If you’d sat at his side, he wouldn’t be able to face you, since his cracked ribs made any movement excruciating. Even so, he refused to stay put, risking his health every time he got up in the middle of the night to use the shower or the bathroom. You told him you should be assisting him any time he had to exert himself, but he vehemently refused your help with his hygiene---it was simply humiliating that a grown man like him would need help washing himself, especially your help. “Save me my pride.”, he begged, the grim and embarrassed look on his face making you cave. You agreed to his demands as long as he’d let you walk him to and from the amenities, that way he wouldn't risk falling on his way and injuring himself further. But he’d still disobey and take himself there while you weren’t looking. You took to smelling his hair every time you came to check on him, smoothing it back and lifting your nose to his forehead to check if he showered without you getting him there safely. He always smelled clean, bringing that frustrated frown he loathed to be the cause of to your pretty face.

“You’ll kill yourself.”, you’d warn, “And I’ll have to bury you in the backyard.”.

He didn’t understand why you cared so much—why you, literally, dragged him back to your house after finding him beaten and bloody only a couple miles from your cabin, having crawled from a camp in a Snezhnayan forest he had been instructed to collect a debt from the residents of. They'd expected his visit and prepared an ambush of twenty. Normally, he could win a battle such as this with ease, but his exhuastion from the continuous missions he was assigned by the Fatui without breaks became too much for him. Thank Celestia you found him when you did, having fortunately been scavenging for snow berries in the very same forest.

He had been hauling himself in the direction of your cabin, trying to get as far as he could so that he might deliver you the letter he’d been saving in the breast pocket of his daily coat for years. One he’d carried with him always to ensure that, in the event he met his end, that his final confession would reach you.

A letter he’d been too cowardly to send to you in life—his one and only friend, the girl he grew up with in grade school, who he’d chosen to play make believe in the snow and ice-skate with, rather than hunting and roughhousing with the other boys in his class. It wasn’t that those boyish activities didn’t interest him, it was that his interest in you outweighed those hobbies by tons. You were everything, still were.

That’s why it was so mortifying that you had to nurse him back to health; shouldering the consequences of his deadly line of work.

Not only did he almost lose his life to his opponents, but for you to find him at his weakest made the shame burn all the worse.

You leaned over to where you brought the spoon a centimeter from his lips, nose nearly brushing his own as you gently blew on the sip of homemade chicken soup inside. He felt your warm breath on his lips, the feeling of you made his pale cheeks turn pink and weak heart sputter in his chest.

If his ribs weren't broken, if they were still in the healthy condition of a cage they once were, he might believe his chest housed a hummingbird; the pace of his heart mimicking the incessant beating of it's wings. The way just being close to you stirred and electrified him, you could bring him back to life with just a kiss.

Your eyes flicked back up to his, urging the spoon to his lips, indicating you wanted him to open them.

He did, his gaze not breaking from yours as he opened his mouth and let you feed him. It was such an intimate moment that you forgot to breathe, catching your breath as you watched him swallow the meal you'd prepared for him and him alone. Though you were both quiet, it felt like the room buzzed lowly around the both of you. He didn't know it, but the way he looked at you with such deep warmth made you shiver.

“You were up last night, weren’t you?”, you finally asked, already knowing the answer.

Indignity marred his face as he averted his eyes to the wooden floor of your house, but his break from your irritated gaze didn’t last long. You took his chin between your thumb and forefinger and redirected his attention back to your face.

“Tell me the truth.”

He had no choice now. You had him pinned.

“…Yes, I got up…sorry.”

Your disappointed face made him flinch—stinging more than your anger or scorn ever could.

You sighed, closing your eyes and moving your hand from his chin to cup his cheek, worried eyes boring into his and squeezing his heart.

“You’re delaying your healing process. Every time you get up without help—“

“I don’t need a walker like a decrepit, old man”, he spat, instant regret pailing him. He hated that he snapped at you, hated that he couldn't control himself. His embarrassment would overwhelm him---like it always did when you looked at him like a wounded animal. He turned his face away from you once again, but you pulled his attention right back.

“Stop it.”, your stern command sat like a rock in his stomach. Though, the heavy feeling dissipated when your gaze turned soft and fretting. “I’m sorry I’m playing 'demanding nurse', but I need you to work with me if you’re ever going to get better. I don’t want these wounds to be permanent; getting up without help will make your bones heal wrong, or open your stitches back up.".

He knew better than to take his eyes off of you at this point, but the guilt in his expression told you all you needed to know. His late night walk last night had come with consequences.

“You didn’t—"

Without warning, you threw the blankets off of him, only to find a bloody, crudely secured bandage over the deep laceration on his abdomen. He'd popped his stitches.

“Childe!”, your shriek made him wince. “Why didn’t you tell me!”.

“I’m sorry…”, he started, but you didn’t hear him. You were already running off to grab the first aid kit from the kitchen.

He was getting really sick and tired of disappointing you. He'd been in this room for weeks, been your constant source of anxiety and labor for weeks, and he wasn't getting any better.

...but you were never frustrated. Sure, he'd annoy you with his pride, but no amount of effort put into caring for him would ever be a waste, not to you, at least. He'd pop his stitches or worsen a crack in his ribs with a fall or sharp movement, you'd scold him, but no matter how many times it happened, you'd always redo them, always hold ice packs or heating pads over his aches; carefully, gently.

He watched your beautiful, soft hands work while they drew the needle and thread through him---and he wouldn't flinch. It didn't even hurt. It couldn't, when it was a mesmerizing sight; the way you left what would be permanent scars along his body---covering the old ones left by his enemy. Scars that were not made to wound, but to heal. Any mark you left upon him was gratefully accepted, knowing that he'd now carry evidence of you and your care with him at all times, all the way up until his last day in this world.

Like clockwork, the process was quick and painless. The first time you'd sewn him up, you had no clue what you were doing; fumbling and sobbing as you desperately tried to save his life. Tears clouded your view and your shaking hands couldn't safely find purchase on his abdomen. But Childe steadied you, held you close and whispered reassurances and apologies to you while talking you through every step. Now, he was like your personal patchwork doll. You'd sewn him up every time he went and hurt himself again, each stitch made with love and care.

When you were done, you wiped the area with a warm, firewater-soaked cloth, then applied an antibacterial ointment. He'd tried to take it from you, insisting he could apply it himself, but you smacked his hands away.

"You're my patient. Just sit back and let me take care of you.", you said it like it was nothing; a plain fact, your job. But it wasn't your job. He couldn't see why you were so compelled to shoulder this work yourself when you could've had him carted off to a Fatui infirmary the day you found him.

"They won't take care of you like I will.", was all you would say.

You knew the Fatui infirmary would prioritize getting their war machine in working order as soon as possible, rather than giving him quality treatment and time to heal. You also knew that, since visitors were not allowed into the Fatui headquarters, he would be all alone. And you wouldn't have that. You'd gotten letters to your residence that the Fatui knew you had their harbinger and were coming to collect him, but you used every one of them as kindling for the hearth in Childe's room. Soldiers had shown up at your front door, demanding entry or that you send their harbinger out to them, but to their surprise, you fought them like a wildcat. It was incredible how fierce you'd gotten over the subject of Childe's care, not allowing anyone but yourself to touch him. Your shouting startled the agents and they backed off as you swung the wooden spoon you'd been holding at them, warning them to get lost.

"He'll be back when he's healed and not a moment sooner!", you'd hollered as they begrudgingly trudged away.

Childe's gaze on you was proud and soft at the memory; you were the only person that had ever fought for him---and fought Fatui agents two times your size with a wooden spoon, too.

At your request, he greedily accepted your touch, closing his eyes as he let himself be blissfully consumed by the feeling of your kind hand smoothing the ointment over his skin.

When you finished, you sat back and examined him for a while. You did this often---like you were saving the image of him somewhere deep within you, like you were scared to forget him, scared to lose him. Your gaze washed him in warmth, his chest aching from the well of love he harbored for you. It made his eyes glitter and his heart ask questions it was desperate to know the answers to.

"...why do you put yourself through this?", the question slipped from his mouth in a whisper before he had the chance to think it through. It had been eating away at him since the day you took him in.

You tilted your head, the curious pout on your lips making him gulp; you were so very cute.

"Through what?", you asked.

"This.", he clarified, lifting his arms as much as he could to gesture to the situation you'd both found yourselves in. "...you know you don't have to.".

"I want to.", you argued. "The Fatui wouldn'---"

He interrupted your statement, "wouldn't take care of me like you would, I know. But that doesn't answer my question.", he looked into your eyes with furrowed eyebrows and painful confusion in his expression. "I know I'm burdening you. So why would you put yourself through this?".

In all honesty, he was terrified of your answer. He feared that asking would make you come to your senses and finally send him away; though he knew you deserved to get his hopeless corpse out of your house.

What he didn't expect was the lips he was so enamored with curving into a smile.

"You said you were mine; so you're mine to take care of. No one else's."

Now this perplexed him. He'd been yours since the day he met you, when your pretty face and gentle demeanor tethered him hopelessly to you from your first shared smile. And that tether coiled itself tighter and tighter around him with every day you spent at each other's side, every time he observed your unending compassion---building huts for creatures of the forest before snow storms would hit, patiently helping him with the school subjects he struggled in, babysitting his siblings with him while his parents were away...but what was so confusing was, he'd never told you. He belonged to you in silence and silence alone, neglecting to inform you of the hold you had on the heart he'd willingly given to you long ago.

He was at a loss for words, your exclamation hitting the nail right on the head. He was yours, but how did you know?

His wide eyes and crimson cheeks only made you chuckle, pulling his letter out of the apron you wore---the letter he'd saved on his person at all times for you in the event of his death.

"Unless this isn't yours?", you asked, cheekily.

His face paled. You must've found it after you'd taken him back to your house to care for him. You'd washed his clothes, including his coat, and emptied the pockets before throwing them in the wash bin---finding his letter for you safely tucked in the pocket that rested above his heart.

You opened the letter and read aloud your favorite passage to him:

"When you find my body, I ask that you carve out my heart and take it with you; it belongs to you, just as my body, my mind and my soul, though I fear the whole of me is too heavy for you to carry. Carry this, so you may have me and not be crushed by my weight. So you may have proof that I, and everything I am, belongs to you."

The rosy, dreamy smile that bloomed on your lips as you cantored his confession to him like gospel brought his deepest wishes and desires to life; you accepted him and his love with your full heart. His voice escaped him as you made his dreams come true with just a smile. Your perfect, perfect smile.

"Childe...", you said with a sweetness in your voice that rivaled any dessert he'd ever tasted.

His name falling from your lips made his heart jump.

"...yes?"

"...I love you.", the phrase left your throat like a quiet, ardent cry. I love you. It came from a deep, ancient part of your heart; a space carved out long ago for the boy you spent your childhood with, a space whose walls strain against the fullness of it. You'd stuffed it full of so much care for him, it felt like it was just a pinprick from bursting.

Your words made his own heart whine and scrape at the confines of his chest like a puppy wanting out of its cage so that it may find its beloved owner.

"That's why I take care of you. I love you.". It wasn't an explaination, it was a promise. It was a confession that you were just as tethered to him as he was to you.

Without another word, you scooted closer and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, careful not to lean too much of your body weight on him, but enough to envelop him in your warmth. He felt your heart beating against his, a passionate duet between lovers that had gone too long unsung.

He couldn't hold you in return, his arms aching too much to lift, but he buried his nose in the crook between your shoulder and neck, breathing in your scent as deeply as he could, pressing kisses to the soft space. You loved him. You loved him. He'd believe he was dreaming if the soreness from his wounds wasn't all too real---proof that he was living and breathing in the reality that you wanted him. That you wanted him and he was yours without any hesitation. Now, he was itching to heal, prepared to follow any rules you put in place for him as long as it meant that at the end of the process he could hold you like he wanted to---tight and possessive and finally.

He hungrily kissed his way up the column of your neck, just like he'd done in every daydream he had a moment to indulge in and in the periods of wakefulness he spun in before he fell asleep every night. Every waking thought he could spare was spent in dedication to you you you. He made his way up your jaw, to the sensitive spot behind your ear that made you gasp and shiver; spending a long, devoted moment tending to it eagerly. Then he kissed back down your cheek until he hovered right in front of your lips---pausing there. He looked up into your eyes amorously, pleadingly, silently asking for your permission to press his lips to your own. As if he was unsure if he was worthy or not.

Your loving gaze was enough to give him his answer.

So he shut his eyes and leaned into you as you braced yourself on his shoulders, squeezing them as his cracked lips finally met your own. He ardently devoured you, his desperation overcoming his physical limitations---abandoning his need for physical comfort in lieu of his need to taste you, to lick up every sweet kiss you would give him. He leaned forward as you attempted to pull away, his lips unable to satiate their craving. You relented, laughing lightly as you gently pressed him back down onto the pillows to relieve the sharp pain in his abdomen he sacrificed for a moment more of your lips on his. You indulged him, smoothing your hands up his neck to cup his jaw and hold him as you gave him as much as he wanted---which would never be enough.

No matter how much affection you'd give him, it could never fill the well of longing he'd been digging for you since the day he met you.

He'd yearn for you every moment of every day of his life. In this moment, he made a law for himself to follow: After he heals, he'll take care of himself, treat his exhaustion and avoid lethal injuries, so that he may keep coming back to you with his love in tow---offerings of affection he'd lay at your feet and pray you'd accept. He'd keep his heart beating so it would stay warm for you; so that the day you'd pry it from his chest would remain eras away.

· · ♡ · ·

"Childe, I can hold the spoon.", you demanded, attempting to snatch the spoonful of soup from his hand as he chuckled and evaded your swipes.

Your grumpy, flushed face was too adorable for his heart to take, and the sound of your stuffy voice was too funny.

Oh, how the tables have turned since the day you'd taken him into your home. Once he'd started adhering to your treatment plan wholeheartedly, he healed in record time. Your harbinger had grown stronger and livlier than ever, a feat which he acreditted solely to your kisses and love.

"All I'm saying is, I didn't start healing until you started kissing me.", he had claimed, grinning broadly as he brought you into his arms after being able to stand on his own without pain for the first time since his injury.

He'd moved in not too long after he came back from his first mission since his hiatus, favoring your cozy cabin over any mansion his money could buy. He was grateful to be home with you...but you'd caught a bug while he was away. When you opened your front door with bleary, puffy eyes and the sniffles, he couldn't help but pinch your cheeks and laugh, drawing you in for a kiss. You'd argued and tried to push his face away, shouting that he'd get himself sick, but he only captured your wrists and held them against his chest as he pressed his lips to yours.

"No weak little bug can take down a warrior as strong as me.", he'd arrogantly claimed...

...you hated that he was right.

So he got to steal kisses from you scott free while he nursed you back to health, just as you'd done for him.

And he delivered such sweet payback, playing 'demanding nurse' just like you had.

"C'mon, sweetheart. Open up. Medicine's gotta go down the hatch."

"You're not sleeping alone tonight, love. Gotta keep you warm so your cold doesn't get worse!"

"Maybe you shouldn't shower alone...you might faint. Just let me come with you."

You started to pick up on the fact that maybe not all of his rules and regulations were made solely in your interest.

Now, you were fighting him over whether or not you could feed yourself.

"My arms aren't broken!", you bickered, sniffling and pouting like a stubborn child.

"Ah ah ah! But any physical exertion could delay your progress. You wanna get better, don't you?", he argued, grinning like a fox.

"...yes."

"Then lay back and let me handle you. I gotta take care of what's mine, right?".

You only quit your grumbling because he looked so proud of himself. So cheerful that he got to make you feel better and call you his, just like you'd done for him.

He planted a kiss to your hot forehead, tutting as he pulled away.

"Your fever hasn't gone down yet. Let me get you a cool compress."

With that, he trotted off to the kitchen. You couldn't help but smile at his antics, running about without a break and spending every moment of the day doting on you---all for a little case of the sniffles.

And how could he not? You were his one and only love, and like he said, like he'll repeat any time you need to hear it...

You are his. He is going to take care of you.

#genshin x reader #childe x reader #childe x you #genshin childe #genshin ajax #genshin fluff #genshin x you #genshin impact #tartaglia x reader #genshin tartaglia x reader #childe fluff #friends to lovers #childe genshin impact #ajax genshin impact #ajax tartaglia #tartaglia x you #genshin tartaglia

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ a mid-day pick-me-up ⋆౨ৎ˚ ⋆ ˚｡

Wriothesley gets distracted watching you talk during a break in his long work day ♡ he decides now is a better time than ever to…revitalize himself.

Wriothesley x reader II short drabble, established relationship, suggestive.

content warnings: PDAish (no one is around), french kithing, illuding to a suggestive aftermath ໒꒰ྀི ܸ. .ܸ ꒱ྀི১

Wriothesley takes your delicate hand in his while you’re going on about something he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to. He was too caught up in the sight of your pretty lips moving and the desire to feel your soft skin against him—any way, any where. It’s just been such a long work day, such a long time since he last had his favorite little pick-me-up. He thinks the way you lose your words is adorable, your flushed face and parted lips all from just a slow kiss to your hand making him chuckle; a familiar rumble that sends shivers up your spine. Now that you’ve stopped talking, he can bring his face to yours and connect with you—kissing you deeply in a way that was so inappropriate for him to be doing on the job; his hand firmly secured on the small of your back to keep you flush up against him, his tongue shocking you when he pushes his way into your mouth—making you jump. What makes it worse is, you’re not even in the safety of his office. He caught you in the hall. The empty hall, but the hall nonetheless. You’re so wary of propriety, he often chides you for forgetting this is his fortress. He can have whatever he wants, wherever he wants, and he wants you—his darling, easily flustered sweetheart.

After he’s had his fill, having indulged himself in you for a dangerously long amount of time, you pull away with that familiar pout, about to deal him your typical scolding about his lack of caution—though he beats you to it with his own retort.

“Meropide will thank you. Their duke needs to get through the day for things to run smoothly, right?”, he rhetorically asks, that amused lilt to his deep voice that tells you there’s no reasoning with him.

You can’t argue with that. Can’t argue with him. Not when he’s looking at you like you smell of sugar cookies and he’s in the mood for dessert. It makes your poor heart race like a hummingbird’s.

You place your hands on his chest when he leans in once again with a possessive hold on the back of your head, tangled ever so perfectly in your hair, tilting you to just the right angle…

“…at least take me to your office?”, you request, your lips a breath away from his.

“…you really want to be all alone in that office with me?”, he asks with that wolfish grin on his face—the one that never fails to make your knees weak; giving you a fair warning that doing so will scuttle all sense of decency he begrudgingly adheres to while out in the open with you…

…though he doesn’t give you the chance to take back your request; scooping you up without a moment of hesitation and carrying you bridal-style towards the confines of his office as you owlishly look up at him.

“Cute”, he thinks, admiring your blushing face and wide eyes; he was simply enamored with every little expression you make—you were just the most precious thing in the world. Your doe eyes never failed to bring a crimson heat to his cheeks, a feat no other could hope to accomplish when it came to the formidable Duke of Meropide. He leans down to press a kiss to your head, attempting to hide his crooked, endeared smile. Though he plays it cool, you have his heart thundering in his chest just like he does yours.

Good thing he’s cleared the hour in his schedule, he wouldn’t want his afternoon lunch to be cut short ♡

Not me interrupting my ACTUAL afternoon lunch to scribble out this idea. Now I have to go to class hungry (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄‸o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝)

#I made you a snack #enjoy ♡ #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley drabbles #wriothesley genshin #genshin wriothesley #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact