Cyrah~💌

I smile, slipping the warm fuzzy boots back on as I quickly bounce my way towards him, my hands instinctively helping him remove the thick layers of snow and warm clothes. "It's alright my love, I’m just so glad that you’re back home."

He envelops me in his warm embrace and I instinctively melt into his frame, his faint musky scent smelling wonderful as my arms just wrap around him ever so slightly tighter. His warm lips press a chaste kiss to my temple as he gives my shoulders a quick squeeze. I smile as I pull back, quietly leading him into our living room where the tree is set up and a few presents already lay waiting for the next morning to come. 

‘11:57’

“I know its tradition to give, open, and exchange gifts the next day, but…” His voice trails off as he pulls out a small, square box. Then suddenly, he drops to one knee, back straight as he looks me dead in my eyes. A gasp escapes from me at the sight and especially so when he opens the box and then takes my hand in his. “[Your name]... you just have no clue how incredible you are. From the moment I met you something in me clicked with something in you, and from there on out I knew that with every hill, slope and adventure that comes my way I wanted you to be there by my side. You made me the happiest boy in the world when you said yes to being my girl, would you do me the honors and make me the happiest man in the world and become my wife?” 

Laughter erupts from my lips and tears of joy slide down my cheeks as I nod, “Yes, oh yes [Character's name] yes a thousand times over!” You crouch down and hug him, the two of us laughing as he slips the ring on my finger and kisses my forehead. “Since you gave me a gift it would only be fair for me to return the favor.” I approach the tree and pick out a small, thin, rectangular gift box and hand it over to him. 

‘11:58’

I watch as he smiles, raising a brow at me before he lifts the lid, revealing a pregnancy test with two red lines in the small screen. His eyes dart up towards mine, mouth agape as he stands up with me. “My lotus you’re pregnant?” 

I nod, embarrassment and nervousness coursing through me. He kisses my forehead, holding it for a good few seconds, whispering, “Oh you have given me such a blessing my lotus, I can never be more grateful for you.” He crouches down, his hands trailing down my side, one resting on my hip and the other rubbing the side of my waist. Then, leaning forward he places a three second kiss over my stomach. “I love you my little petal, or bud, daddy will always love and protect you.” 

‘11:59’

He stands up, placing a long kiss to my forehead, lips lingering there before he uses his large hand to move my jaw to the side so that he may kiss my temple for a few long seconds, before kissing my cheek. “But most importantly, I will protect you, my to-be-wife, the mother of my beautiful child and my lotus. I love you most.” His words linger in the air for a few seconds too long, children in the surrounding apartment blocks counting down the seconds until its Christmas. 

“I love you too, my love.” 

With those final words the distance between his lips and mine become non-existent. His lips warm yet contrast greatly with the coldness of his nose. 

‘12:00’ 

But thats okay, because tonight was the night we both shared a gift to remember by.

There would always be an old man who would greet us. Mama said his name was Mr. Ernest. I remember how kind Mr. Ernest was, always letting me and the freckled boy in to wander his shop. He had two chairs set there, so that every afternoon after school, me and the freckled boy could sit about and read whatever books were understandable to us at the time.

The winds nudge at my still young but wiser self, urging me to step into my second home. With a heavy breath I take my first step, quietly walking inside as my shoes softly clack against the dark oak floors. Shelves lined with rows and rows of books, their scent hitting my nose with nostalgia as my fingers brush over a couple spines.

I make my way a bit further in, finding the same wooden desk that’s attached to the walls, a small open doorway in the centre behind the desk where Mr. Ernest would emerge every now and then to greet the two of us. Though now, no one stands in his place.

“Merrow.” My head quickly looks in the direction of the sound. There, nestled over the books and lounging around is a cat. One who has an ashy coating with black stripes, and it has the most adorable set of bright, round, orange eyes that I’ve seen.

With a gentle smile I approach, softly reaching my hand out to let the cat smell me. “Hey there little guy, oh look at you…” The little guy gently takes a whiff of my hand, deciding whether or not I was a friend or foe before nuzzling the top of its head under my hand. Gently cooing at the little fellow, I gently rub behind its ears and rub its back before slowly coaxing the kitty into my arms.

“Oh look at you,” I coo, rubbing her ears and letting her purr. She certainly was being taken care of. She was already someone else’s based on the little collar around her neck. “Fara” read the name on the collar… how odd. Its almost as if this name holds significance that weighs heavy yet I can not put a name on it.  

“Hello there, Welcome to Tewksbury’s Books how can I help…” A man’s voice speaks up from behind me causing me to turn around.

There behind the counter stands a man, a fair amount taller than I, with these, oddly familiar yet distant features that stirs something buried deep within me. His skin slightly tan with a few visible beauty marks on his neck.

The cat in my arms happily meows at the sight of him, leaping out of my arms to pounce onto the wooden desk and curl up. The man runs his hands over the cat’s fur, letting it purr contently as a second one appears. One with a plain, yet fluffy ashen coat with a striking pair of green blinking orbs. It quietly takes perch on a near by shelf as It quietly spectates the scene. The freckled man stands before me, wide eyed, and full of joy its almost contagious.

“You’re back, you’re finally back!” He exclaims, voice growing higher with astonishment as his smile grows wider by the second. Taking in his appearance is almost akin to looking at a nostalgic polaroid picture from long ago. His long locks brown and curled into soft coils, the kinds that would gently hold flowers in them had you placed them in there. His eyes an oak brown, mixed with this beautiful chocolate colour, yet due to the light from the window striking part of his left eye it appears as this gorgeous bright honeyed golden colour. Glasses rest over the bridge of his nose, round in shape and black in colour.

And freckles all over his face, littered like stars who came and stuck to his cheeks and nose.

He makes his way over the counter, taking steps towards me with quickened steps. Excitement fuelling the muscles in wrapped around his bones as stars light up his eyes. His clothes crinkle, a white, button up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up layered underneath a dark brown, soft vest. His slacks being the colour a pale brown colour. Like that of milk poured into a coffee.

“I’m sorry, but do I know you?”

His steps pause, his smile dropping like a star falling from heaven. Like an angel falling from grace.

“You… don’t remember me?” His eyes soften in a different from. The softness going from a soft joy to a soft pain. “Do you not remember me at all?”

A coil forms in my chest as I shake my head. A gnawing claw digging within me. With a disheartened look I shake my head.

His frown grows, a small sadness seeping out his heart and into mine.

“Once upon a time, we did.”

I watch as he quietly nods, his eyes drinking in all my features like a man who’s gone walking in the desert far too long without a drop of water. A lump in his throat forming as he swallows. His Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he pushes a smile on his lips.

“Surely you jest?” He pauses, head tilting slightly in a comedic manner. Though with a shake of my head he frowns. His hands going to his hips as he clicks his tongue and pushes It to the side of his mouth, “Shit, you actually forgot about me?”

Panic rises in my chest at his words. ‘I do know you’. I wish to tell him. ‘It’s just that I simply can’t remember how important you are to me’. “No, no, please don’t say that, I’m sure I remember you. I know it. I just can’t place my finger on it on how you are important to me. I know you are. I just don’t know how.”

I watch as a flurry of emotions swirl in his eyes. Watching almost as a chocolate brown swirls with a deep earth brown, and a hazel colouring swirls with a honey-gold brown, and those pair swirl with each other forming a large storm within his eyes. A soft scoff escapes his lips as he runs a large hand through his hair, “I honestly can’t tell whether or not I should feel offended or flattered.” He chuckles. 

--------------⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ⋆---------------

Todoroki

Hes not the most romantic, that much is evident. Though, that does not mean he loves you any less. He cares for you very deeply, however, due to his home situation and the issues that came from being raised under Endevor hes not exactly the best as people would like to think. Sometimes you see it, hes turning into what he said he wouldn't. Todoroki really doesn't mean it, he can't help it. Hes not the best at affection. Nor at accepting. When it comes to kisses he doesn't have a particular favorite. But he always kisses your hand. Why? Maybe its because he would like to keep your heart at a distance, and so by extension, you. Or perhaps he enjoys he comforting, soft warmth your hand provides as he takes hold of it. And his favorite? He claims he has none. Kisses aren't useful and a waste of time. Though... he often lets you indulge in hissing the palms of his hands, oh and how he'd hate to admit that when you kissed his scar for the first time, he didn't run away from disgust. He ran away because he cried. Cried because maybe that scar that scabbed from hatred and fear because it reminded the giver of the man who harmed her, didn't mean that he couldn't be loved. Maybe it meant that all that shitty training and pain and recovering from that scar and even with that physical evidence there, maybe he too deserved some love. Maybe... he wouldn't be so cold to you anymore for much longer, after all, just as he slowly starts using his fire abilities more often, maybe the thick frost incasing his heart will melt away and allow yours to embrace his.

Bakugou

Hes nervous. God damn it god damn it god damn it stop sweating. Hes too scared that your hands will be bured from his explosive sweat. He couldn't fathom hurting you. Maybe thats why he yells at you a little less loudly, the names he calls you as an insult sounding sweater than it should be, less harsh on you than he would on others. Everyone can notice it, it doesn't take an idiot to. Hes a simp. Though he'd rather turn Denki into a craby paty before admitting it. Bakugou at first would be far too affraid of harming you, so when he kisses you his go to and favorite has been your entire face and jaw. Its just right there, your sweet face and nice jaw begging to be kissed. Hes simply following demands. Though if we have to be honest, he is a SUCKER for forehead kisses. Though to be more specific, he adores when you two are laying in his or your bed, cuddling, both of you facing each other, and then you slowly lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his forehead. Hes conciously making sure hes not gonna burn or make you go boom boom explode unlike Caleb-

Kirishima

Kirishima’s kisses are full of energy and warmth! he’s pouring his entire heart into every single one. He doesn’t just kiss you, he grins against your lips, presses his forehead to yours, and laughs softly when he feels your smile in return. He’s the type to kiss you quickly and often, never missing a chance to show you how much he loves you. His favorite place to kiss you is your knuckles—he loves taking your hand in his, brushing his lips over it, and watching your expression soften. To him, it feels gentlemanly, but it also makes him feel like your protector. When it comes to your kisses, Kirishima completely melts at the ones you leave along his jawline. He tries to act all cool about it, but the way his voice catches and his hands instinctively tighten around you gives him away every time. Deep down, he loves how your kisses make him feel strong and soft all at once, reminding him that even the toughest skin can crave tenderness. Oh and in case you didn't know him and Bakugou are competing for the biggest simp award.

Denki

Denki’s kisses are light, teasing, and always a little playful, like he’s daring you to chase after him for more. He’ll kiss you in quick pecks, then pull away with that cheeky grin of his, just to watch you pout before he dives back in for another. He loves to kiss you everywhere—your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, EVERYWHERE! But his all time super duper favorite place will always be your lips. Why? Kinda stupid to ask, its cause nothing beats the spark he feels when you melt into him. He’s also big on dramatic, over-the-top kisses when you least expect it, like dipping you back just because he thinks it’s funny. When it comes to your kisses, Denki’s weakness is the ones you place on his temple or just above his ear. There’s something about the gentleness and teasing part of it all that makes his heart stutter, makes him trip while doing a cart-wheel before falling to the floor grounding him in a way he doesn’t EVER intend to admit.

Ida

Iida’s kisses are always steady, certain, and filled with that earnest kind of devotion that makes you feel treasured. He doesn’t kiss carelessly, as to him, every kiss has intent. So he vows to silently promise to always protect and respect you through his lips. He’ll often hold your face gently in his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheeks while he leans down to kiss you like you’re the most important person in his world. His favorite place to kiss you is your forehead. It feels natural to him, a gesture of love that carries both warmth and reassurance. But when it comes to your kisses, the ones you press to his jaw absolutely undo him. He tries to maintain his usual composed demeanor, but the faint pink that dusts his ears betrays him every time. Those kisses remind him that even someone as rigid and disciplined as he is deserves softness, and you’re the only one who can give it to him.

Tokoyami

Tokoyami approaches kissing with the same quiet intensity that he does everything else cause hes emo-. He isn’t flashy about it, nor is he overly eager emo ass—his kisses are slow, steady, and purposeful, almost reverent. He favors quiet moments over anything public, where he can simply exist with you without the weight of outside eyes because you're in love with an emo bird. His favorite place to kiss peck- you is your hand. To him, it’s a simple yet profound act of devotion. A silent vow that he’ll never falter in standing by your side. He might not always say the words out loud, but every press of his lips against your knuckles is a quiet promise. As for your kisses, Tokoyami has always been partial to the ones you give him along his neck, just beneath his jawline. It makes his usually composed nature falter ever so slightly, sending shivers down his spine and leaving him just a little breathless. Ruffling his feathers and leaving his neck tingling for more.

Sero

Sero’s kisses are fun, easygoing, and filled with that laid-back charm he’s always been known for. Bros the type to sneak a kiss on your cheek while making a joke or to lean over and kiss your temple in the middle of a conversation just because he can. He loves to keep it casual, teasing, but still meaningful, never missing a chance to show you that you’re on his mind. Bro's favorite place to kiss you is on your shoulders. He loves the way you tense, shudder and then relax, how it always earns a little grumble from you. Bro likes that it’s a place others wouldn’t think about, but it feels like his. When it comes to your kisses, nothing beats the ones you place on his jaw or chin. They’re playful, sometimes ticklish, but they always leave him grinning like a fool. He swears your kisses could pull him out of the worst mood in seconds flat.

Shoji

Gentle gaint™. He isn’t one for grand gestures or anything flashy—his kisses are soft, and oh so careful. He never wants you to feel overwhelmed, so he always makes sure you feel safe in his presence. His favorite place to kiss you is on your forehead. It’s a way for him to silently say everything he struggles to put into words: that you’re cherished, protected, and deeply... loved. And when it comes to your kisses, he treasures the ones you give to his arms or shoulders. He’s self-conscious about his appearance sometimes, but your tender affection reminds him that you don’t just accept every part of him—you love it. Becase those kisses make him feel whole in a way words never could.

Ojiro

Ojiro’s kisses are thoughtful and measured, much like himself. He doesn’t rush into them; instead, he lingers, taking his time as though he wants to memorize the way your lips feel each and every time. He’s not overly bold with affection in public, but behind closed doors he’s endlessly sweet and attentive. His favorite place to kiss you is your temple. It feels grounding to him, a place that lets him show his affection without needing to say anything at all. When it comes to the kisses you give him, Ojiro absolutely adores the ones on his tail. It catches him off guard the first time, but after that it becomes something he secretly craves. Your kisses there make him feel seen and cherished, as though you’re embracing a part of him he once worried might be strange. It leaves him smiling for hours afterward, tail flicking just a little more than usual.

He watched closely as you blinked sleepily, just moment away from being taken from conciousness. He knew far too well that the moment your eyes shut you would wake up to an empty bed. WIthout him, for months. Maybe even years. He dreaded it in honesty. He hated knowing that. He despeised the thought so vemonously that he can't find it within himself to admit it, to admit he loved you, and to admit that he didn't want this moment to end.

So when the terrifying moment of when your eyes shut he just laid there. Still toying with your hair, still watching your chest rise and fall, still examining every pore, mole, freckle, twich of your body that he could grain so deeply into his memory. Because he knew far too well that just as your moral life span wouldn't last, so would this moment.

----- Once Again, Together, But This Time, Forever-----

Wanderer did not expect to meet you again. No, not like this. This was not how it was supposed to go. He errased himself from Irminsul, there should be no logical reason or explenation on why you would be cornering him against the bark of this tree demanding an explenation with gobs of fat tears running down your cheeks on why he left. Why he left you alone in bed all so long ago.

You shouldn't have remembered that. You shouldn't have rememered him. But he found himself just letting you get it out, a few hits to his chest as he found his limp arms moving to gently pull you in close. Fingers just gently cupping your elbow before wrapping around your waist to pull you in. It was tight, the embrace.

The anger, hurt, pain, relief, comfort, everything was so much for you. But the guilt, remorse, pain, sadness, relief, comfort, he felt was just so much for him as well. How long has it been? A year? A year and few months? Its not that long really, but you're only mortal, only human. And that was so long for you. And for him, it was only just a fraction of his lifespan, but he was feeling how slow time was, almost as if he were mortal himself with how the pain he carried so deeply inside made it feel impossible to be as high and mighty as he once was before.

You both agreed to be together again, not that you actually both agreed to break up or leave each other. He just left, and now you're back. Things were very different, of course it was, he was stupid, not even leaving a note for you to read. You were almost like him when he was known as Scaramouche, pulling and pushing him away. He didn't know what to exactly do, he was lost, again, though this time with you. But as he continuously consulted Lesser Lord Kusanali he found himself being guided back into the softness of your heart.

It took a long time now for you two to get to this stage. With him in bed, facing you as you faced him. You were barely clinging to sleep, yet your hand found a way to his face and gently caressed it, muttering something sweet under your breath. His hand was in your hair as he found himself just... feeling.

Hes been here before. Hes seen this all happen before. With you, just a different place and different time. Taking in the sensation of your fingers on his cheek, silently trying to cling onto whatever heat radiated from it so that his cold body could preserve it. Feeling the softness of your locks and how it would so softly curl around his finger as he toyed with it. Feeling the closeness of your body next to his as he absorbed everyting in this moment. He watched closely as you blinked sleepily, just moments away from being taken from conciousness.

Last time this played out before him he was about to leave, remembering how he so vemomously hated that thought. Hated how he used to hide his love for you. Hated how he hated showing affection. But this its different. Because this time he won't leave, he won't just up and go and vanish from your life. He can't waste time, no, not ever again.

After all, hes wasted so much of your limited time. But now that he realizes that its limited, he now so vemomously hates a much more terrifying thought. So terrifying that the moment when your eyes shut he just laid there. Toying with your hair, watching your chest rise and fall, examining every pore, mole, freckle, twich of your body that he could grain so deeply into his memory.

Alhaitham

Don’t get me wrong—he may not be the most openly affectionate when cuddling, but he secretly adores when you curl up beside him. Your arms cling to him, your face burrows into his chest, and though his responses may be subtle, you can feel his quiet devotion. At most, you’ll receive a gentle caress on the head as he lays with you in bed. He enjoys holding you close when he’s reading or when he knows he’ll be sitting for a while, often having you seated comfortably on his lap as his arms encircle you. He’s also guilty of using your head as a prop for his chin—something he appreciates no matter your height. If you’re taller, he finds it convenient; if you’re smaller, he loves how you nuzzle into his chest and neck like a clingy kitten or affectionate puppy, seeking warmth and comfort.

Kazuha

Kazuha has endured great loss—his family, his home, and most painfully, Tomo. Though he has found belonging with the Crux and Captain Beidou’s crew, and though the sea feels like a second home, there is a part of him that silently yearns for both the land of his birth and the comfort of your embrace. His dreams are often haunted by nightmares—visions of being the last of his line, memories of losing Tomo, and the crushing weight of loss. To him, you are far too precious to risk losing. If you were taken from him as Tomo was, he feels certain that the last of his bloodline would soon no longer last. That is why, at night, when he fears his mind will wander to those painful memories, he clings to you. The warmth of your body, the weight of you secure in his arms, grounds him. Holding you close assures him of your safety—and with you safe in his arms, he too can finally feel safe.

Tartaglia

I know for a fact that Tartaglia would be the kind of man to walk with his arm slung firmly around your shoulders or waist. It’s not only because he’s a family man at heart—someone who dreams of having a home filled with little ones who resemble the two of you—but also because he wants the world to know you’re his. He treasures the idea of children with you, though he secretly prays that if they inherit his looks, they don’t inherit the paths hes taken. When he keeps you close, it’s both love and instinct. He adores showing you off—whether to strangers on the street, comrades under his command, or enemies who dare cast a glance your way. To the world, it says you’re Ajax’s beloved; to those who know better, it’s a silent warning that you belong to Tartaglia, Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers, the Tsaritsa’s weapon of war. His hand rests with purpose—always ready to pull you against him or push you out of harm’s reach if danger strikes. The thought of you being hurt terrifies him. No, he could never allow it. He carries enough blood on his hands already; he refuses to ever let yours be among it.

Itto

I can see Itto lounging around with his arm casually thrown around your shoulders or waist, pulling you close without even realizing it. If his hand happens to end up beneath your head as a makeshift pillow, he wouldn’t even complain—at least, not until you bite it. That’s when the playful bickering begins. He’d fake a dramatic argument, whining about how “ungrateful” you are before finally relenting, laughing, and pressing a kiss to your head until you let go. And of course, the moment you relax, he’ll probably turn right around and nip at you in revenge, grinning ear to ear like the mischief-loving oni he is. Itto thrives on that kind of playful energy. He’s strong, he’s carefree, and little feisty acts from you don’t faze him at all—they only delight him. Your playful side excites him, makes him laugh, makes him feel alive in ways battles never could. To him, your teasing is just another form of affection, a game he’s more than happy to lose if it means he gets your attention. And at the end of it, no matter how much you squabble, he’ll always pull you tight against his chest with that big, warm grin, making it impossible not to laugh with him. Because to Itto, love should be fun, lighthearted, and filled with moments where even something as simple as a bite turns into another reason to adore you.

Scaramouche/Wanderer

Scaramouche... he would often stay up wondering how he found himself slipping back into his old habit of getting close to another mortal like you. He told himself he would despise relationships, its a waste of time. And yet here he is wasting time. He always finds himself in this terrible habit of treating you like dirt and then huffly shoving several large gift wrapped boxes into your arms with a half-baked insult and this hue on his cheeks. The days before he left he found himself oddly sentimental, spending less time on the job and just a few extra hours with you to, 'amuse' you. The night before he left for Sumeru he found himself in the oddest position. He was laying in bed, facing you. You were barely clinging to sleep, yet your hand found a way to face and gently caressed it, muttering something sweet under your breath. His hand was in your hair as he found himself just... feeling. Feeling the touch of your fingers on his cheek, silently trying to cling onto whatever heat radiated from it so that his cold body could preserve it. Feeling the softness of your locks and how it would so softly curl around his finger as he toyed with it. Feeling the closeness of your body next to his as he absorbed everyting in this moment. He watched closely as you blinked sleepily, just moment away from being taken from conciousness. He knew far too well that the moment your eyes shut you would wake up to an empty bed. WIthout him, for months. Maybe even years. He dreaded it in honesty. He hated knowing that. He despeised the thought so vemonously that he can't find it within himself to admit it, to admit he loved you, and to admit that he didn't want this moment to end. So when the terrifying moment of when your eyes shut he just laid there. Still toying with your hair, still watching your chest rise and fall, still examining every pore, mole, freckle, twich of your body that he could grain so deeply into his memory. Because he knew far too well that just as your moral life span wouldn't last, so would this moment.

----- Once Again, Together, But This Time, Forever-----

Wanderer did not expect to meet you again. No, not like this. This was not how it was supposed to go. He errased himself from Irminsul, there should be no logical reason or explenation on why you would be cornering him against the bark of this tree demanding an explenation with gobs of fat tears running down your cheeks on why he left. Why he left you alone in bed all so long ago. You shouldn't have remembered that. You shouldn't have rememered him. But he found himself just letting you get it out, a few hits to his chest as he found his limp arms moving to gently pull you in close. Fingers just gently cupping your elbow before wrapping around your waist to pull you in. It was tight, the embrace. The anger, hurt, pain, relief, comfort, everything was so much for you. But the guilt, remorse, pain, sadness, relief, comfort, he felt was just so much for him as well. How long has it been? A year? A year and few months? Its not that long really, but you're only mortal, only human. And that was so long for you. And for him, it was only just a fraction of his lifespan, but he was feeling how slow time was, almost as if he were mortal himself with how the pain he carried so deeply inside made it feel impossible to be as high and mighty as he once was before. You both agreed to be together again, not that you actually both agreed to break up or leave each other. He just left, and now you're back. Things were very different, of course it was, he was stupid, not even leaving a note for you to read. You were almost like him when he was known as Scaramouche, pulling and pushing him away. He didn't know what to exactly do, he was lost, again, though this time with you. But as he continuously consulted Lesser Lord Kusanali he found himself being guided back into the softness of your heart. It took a long time now for you two to get to this stage. With him in bed, facing you as you faced him. You were barely clinging to sleep, yet your hand found a way to his face and gently caressed it, muttering something sweet under your breath. His hand was in your hair as he found himself just... feeling. Hes been here before. Hes seen this all happen before. With you, just a different place and different time. Taking in the sensation of your fingers on his cheek, silently trying to cling onto whatever heat radiated from it so that his cold body could preserve it. Feeling the softness of your locks and how it would so softly curl around his finger as he toyed with it. Feeling the closeness of your body next to his as he absorbed everyting in this moment. He watched closely as you blinked sleepily, just moments away from being taken from conciousness. Last time this played out before him he was about to leave, remembering how he so vemomously hated that thought. Hated how he used to hide his love for you. Hated how he hated showing affection. But this its different. Because this time he won't leave, he won't just up and go and vanish from your life. He can't waste time, no, not ever again. After all, hes wasted so much of your limited time. But now that he realizes that its limited, he now so vemomously hates a much more terrifying thought. So terrifying that the moment when your eyes shut he just laid there. Toying with your hair, watching your chest rise and fall, examining every pore, mole, freckle, twich of your body that he could grain so deeply into his memory. Because he knew far too well that just as your moral life span wouldn't last, so would this moment.

He envelops me in his warm embrace and I instinctively melt into his frame, his faint musky scent smelling wonderful as my arms just wrap around him ever so slightly tighter. His warm lips press a chaste kiss to my temple as he gives my shoulders a quick squeeze. I smile as I pull back, quietly leading him into our living room where the tree is set up and a few presents already lay waiting for the next morning to come. 

‘11:57’

“I know its tradition to give, open, and exchange gifts the next day, but…” His voice trails off as he pulls out a small, square box. Then suddenly, he drops to one knee, back straight as he looks me dead in my eyes. A gasp escapes from me at the sight and especially so when he opens the box and then takes my hand in his. “[Your name]... you just have no clue how incredible you are. From the moment I met you something in me clicked with something in you, and from there on out I knew that with every hill, slope and adventure that comes my way I wanted you to be there by my side. You made me the happiest boy in the world when you said yes to being my girl, would you do me the honors and make me the happiest man in the world and become my wife?” 

Laughter erupts from my lips and tears of joy slide down my cheeks as I nod, “Yes, oh yes [Character's name] yes a thousand times over!” You crouch down and hug him, the two of us laughing as he slips the ring on my finger and kisses my forehead. “Since you gave me a gift it would only be fair for me to return the favor.” I approach the tree and pick out a small, thin, rectangular gift box and hand it over to him. 

‘11:58’

I watch as he smiles, raising a brow at me before he lifts the lid, revealing a pregnancy test with two red lines in the small screen. His eyes dart up towards mine, mouth agape as he stands up with me. “My lotus you’re pregnant?” 

I nod, embarrassment and nervousness coursing through me. He kisses my forehead, holding it for a good few seconds, whispering, “Oh you have given me such a blessing my lotus, I can never be more grateful for you.” He crouches down, his hands trailing down my side, one resting on my hip and the other rubbing the side of my waist. Then, leaning forward he places a three second kiss over my stomach. “I love you my little petal, or bud, daddy will always love and protect you.” 

‘11:59’

He stands up, placing a long kiss to my forehead, lips lingering there before he uses his large hand to move my jaw to the side so that he may kiss my temple for a few long seconds, before kissing my cheek. “But most importantly, I will protect you, my to-be-wife, the mother of my beautiful child and my lotus. I love you most.” His words linger in the air for a few seconds too long, children in the surrounding apartment blocks counting down the seconds until its Christmas. 

“I love you too, my love.” 

With those final words the distance between his lips and mine become non-existent. His lips warm yet contrast greatly with the coldness of his nose. 

‘12:00’ 

But thats okay, because tonight was the night we both shared a gift to remember by.

He says it with that soft, unreadable expression that makes your knees weak

His version of love is quiet service, endless care, unshakable devotion

Once he secretly bought out the entire boutique you mentioned liking one time in passing

You find out only because the owner bows and says, "Welcome back, Lady Ragnvindr"

You don’t even question it anymore

You're far too used to it to question it

He makes it a point that your favorite flowers delivered daily

Not by courier. Never that

Always by one of the estate staff, arranged in crystal vases, personally placed on your side table before you wake

You swear the bouquet matches your mood every time

Also Diluc has your entire wardrobe custom designed

You try to buy something off-the-rack and he just hums disapprovingly

"It doesn’t suit you. Let me call Elise."

Elise is Mondstadt’s best seamstress. You’re her only client now

Whenever you accomplish something, anything thats personal to you or you feel proud of, expect him to throw an entire gala in your honor

Though he claims its the "annual winery celebrations,"

Sure...

But he only ever watches you

Stands off to the side, wine glass in hand, eyes on you like you hung the stars

He never lets you walk in the rain

Umbrella bearers appear like magic

Or worse—he appears, silent and sudden, cloak around your shoulders and arm outstretched. "You’ll catch cold."

Because you once said you liked flowers once he made an entire greehouse

Fully climate controlled, with a lounging nook just for you

There’s even a teapot that refills itself... somehow

Your husband Diluc doesn’t blink when you jokingly say, "let’s just buy that mansion"

Because two weeks later, you’re holding the deed

"Consider it a weekend retreat."

A mansion, Diluc

Its safe to say that the amount of adoration this man holds for you, hes willing to spend all his fortune on making you smile

Hi! If you enjoyed my content then feel free to request some more! I also do commissions which you can check out in the pinned post for directions and guidelines for. I added an option where you can get work done for free if its under 150 words so if you want a love letter or poem written out chances are it'll likely be free!

Just dims the lights, lights a gentle-scented candle, and sits beside you in companionable silence until you're ready to talk

Will gently stroke your hair while reading his research out loud so you can fall asleep to the sound of his voice

If you say “I don’t want to be a burden,” this man will freeze

Eyes narrow. Ears twitch. Tail flicks once, sharp.

Hes offended

“You’re not a burden. You’re my person. My love. You lummox, bold of you to assume that you're a burden to me. The audacity really!”

That fierce, borderline possessive kind of love that says I will fight gods if it means you get soup and cuddles

Honestly may be slightly obsessed with you but who knows? Definitely him. He knows. He has a spreadsheet about it.

You once said you liked a certain flower when you were sick as a kid. He now grows it. In his greenhouse.

May or may not gently nurse the idea into your pretty little brain that you deserve this kind of care

And he lives for it. You’ve never seen someone so genuinely happy to spoon-feed you and check your temperature with that proud little smirk

Sometimes you almost find yourself looking out into the rain, contemplating on whether or not you should step into the rain

The cons being that you'd get sick

But the pros are that Tighnari gets to take care of you

And like 80% of the time the pros always outweigh the cons

Hi! If you enjoyed my content then feel free to request some more! I also do commissions which you can check out in the pinned post for directions and guidelines for. I added an option where you can get work done for free if its under 150 words so if you want a love letter or poem written out chances are it'll likely be free!

The silence weighs heavy after that. His words hanging in the air like a dead man. A lump forms in your throat causing you to swallow. Would it be too much to tell him? Or too stupid? Would he think you're childish for having such desires? For wanting to relive that moment over and over again? 

You meekly and cautiously have your eyes travel upwards, his green eyes connecting with yours once more. Concern and patience laced between them. But once you break eye contact he just lets out a sigh. Without much of a fuss, he stands up from the bed. Quietly going over to the medical supplies and cabinets on the other side of the room to find some medicine for you. 

You turn to face the other side of the bed, keeping him out of your line of sight making it just so much easier for you to speak as you pretend he is merely just the wind rattling the cabinets within your shared home. 

"Its because of my grandpa." 

The fox pauses in his movements. Quietly, he turns to face you, only to be met with your back. 

"I don't talk about my parents often because I only recall living with my dad. He was the worst. Screaming at me for us not having any food as he drank his life away with his beloved alcohol on the sofa." The sniffling of your illness a great disguise for the new kind of stinging brought to your eyes. 

"He yelled at me often, saying that because of me my mama wasn't around. He said that I stole her life when I was born. That I didn't deserve it. One day he had enough of me and dropped me off at my grandpa's house." 

The silence that followed after was far too deafening. It causes you to curl up, knees to your chest as your heart raced. A few salty droplets rolling out as you sniffle at the memories that flood your mind. "Grandpa was the best." 

"He played with me, sat me on his lap to feed me, bathed me, cuddled me to sleep, would take me out on walks. Whenever it rained it was always my favorite because he would tell me that even the world needed to cry so we had to cheer it up. So then he would take me outside to dance with him." The sobs quietly flow out like a dam broken by the intense water pressure. hugging the pillow your head lay on. 

Tighnari can only watch as his heart broke more and more with every sentence that you utter. He never knew it was just that personal for you. Every jab, joke, fun he poked at you in the past biting him in a guilt fueling way. 

You don't exactly know when but somewhere amidst the cries a warm body joins you in bed, engulfing you completely as arms circled around your midsection and kisses started being littered all across the crown of your head. Warm, gloved hands coming up to run up and down your side as you broke down. 

Once the cries died down the fennec fox quietly holds you. A silence of comfort lay over you both as after a while Tighnari manages to scoop you up. Carrying you to a nearby sofa near the fireplace as he set you in his lap and towel dried your hair. His tail on your lap as he lets you gently pet and play with its softness. 

“I’m so sorry my bloom, for the things I couldn’t protect you from.” A kiss presses to your temple as Tighnari gently rubs your side. “Where is your grandpa? Perhaps we could visit him.” 

“The only way you can visit a dead man is through memory.”

The stark coldness in your words causing a few hairs on the fox to rise and his heart sink. It made far too much sense that he shouldn’t be surprised. 

“But a dead man’s grave should be as frequently visited as when he were alive, because a dead man truly becomes dead when all memories of him fade too.” 

You swallow a lump, the thought of visiting your grandpa’s grave far too taxing on your heart. “I don’t think I could ever face his grave ‘nari.”