Hi there, you may refer to me as Sacro. I made this blog to practice my writing, and also as a way to feel more comfortable with the idea of sharing it. I hope you find any of my works enjoyable.
I like analyzing characters and making up headcannons and short stories (this is a x reader blog) . My fandoms are Genshin Impact, Twisted Wonderland, and Tears of Themis.
I might take my time to post, but for now my only work available is "Ayato has a crush (Headcanons)" and "Contemplation (Childe x reader)"
Please do not copy or repost. Thank u for your stay ( 𖦹 ´ v ` 𖦹 )!
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⤷ 𝓼𝓯𝔀. leon is a stray dog of a man. first kisses. 𝟸.𝟿𝓀
leon is overly tired and very grumpy. it’s no surprise really when he rolled home in the early hours of the morning, bruised and so battered from his recent assignment—spain, if you remember it correctly—but since then, he clearly hasn’t slept and his mood is suffering for it. so, you take it upon yourself to fix it for him
“hey, leon?” you call out softly from your spot on the couch and then wince when you hear a cupboard door slamming shut in the kitchen. he’s been banging around in there for a while and truthfully, you have no idea what he’s trying to accomplish and you find it best not to ask, “c’mere for a second, please,”
it takes a moment but eventually, he leans around the kitchen doorframe with a frown pulling at his brows. he looks exhausted, his eyes are sunken in and the dark circles that are discoloring the tops of his cheeks can’t even hide behind the blonde hairs that hang in front of his face, “what’s up?” he asks, grumbling
his voice is rough, scratchy and faintly worn out, causing it to sound far deeper than it usually does. butterflies swarm low in your stomach over it—like they always do—but you try to ignore it this time whilst you smile and stretch your arms out towards him, “come and lay with me for a while, please,” you plead
the frown that’s painted across leon’s face deepens, his eyes get distant on the surface but you can see behind it—you can see right through him. something soft and melting hides behind the ice of his eyes, something that he doesn’t allow himself to feel often, much less indulge in it when you’re offering, “why?”
answering that with honesty is complicated. telling leon that you’re trying to lure him in, make him relax, force him to be pliant so that he can be tempted with sleep won’t ever work, you learnt that early on and because of it, you’ve had to get creative with telling little white lies that’ll benefit him in the long run
“because, i want you to,” you answer simply, keeping your tone light and airy, treating him as if he’s a shelter animal that’s at risk of backing into the corner, that’s furthest away from wherever you are, with his teeth bared. it’s not really a lie either, you would like him to lay with you but your motives behind it don’t need to be discussed
“but, why?” he asks again, this time sounding desperate and slightly pathetic. he knows that you’re lying in one way or another and he’s letting you. he’d never admit it but you’re the only person that can get away with it. if it were anyone else, he would’ve turned tail and left without even entertaining it
your head tips to the side, eyes raking over his face—the scars, the bruises, the cuts—whilst you make the decision to be somewhat candid with him, if only for his sake, “i just don’t like it when you shut yourself in your room after an assignment, that’s all,” you explain, carefully, still watching him
leon nods, his tongue darting between his lips, “do roommates lay together often?” he snarks, though there’s not a whole lot of heat behind it. he’s trying to deflect your offer, make himself out to be someone that you wouldn’t want near you at all but much to his dismay, it won’t work. it never does and it never will
“i don’t think roommates is the right word anymore, leon,” you point out with a knowing look—one that reminds him of the times you’ve patched him up, scrubbed dried blood from his body and washed gunpowder and god only knows what else from his hair, all without a complaint. “stop being difficult and come over here,”
the change in his eyes is the first thing that you notice, the first sign of submission. the distant look gets overpowered by the softness in an instant when he realises that he’s too exhausted to argue and what good would it do, he’ll only give into you in the end anyway, “yeah—yeah, okay,” he murmurs
finally, he steps out from where he was hiding against the kitchen doorframe. whatever he was doing—or rather, trying to do—in there seemingly becomes irrelevant as he shuffles towards you slowly with the telltale evidence of an ache that spreads throughout every single one of his limbs without his say so
still though, your eyes wander selfishly. his t-shirt is a size too small and clings to his biceps in all of the right places, his grey sweatpants hang low on his hips and one of the legs is caught up around his shin, exposing a ring of tanned skin between his clothing and his socks. he looks comfortable, for once
when he gets close enough, his teeth graze over his bottom lip and his gaze flickers between you and the couch and then over to the television that has been muted ever since you spotted him slinking out of his bedroom. he’s stalling but it only takes a soft flutter of your lashes to get him to cave and fall into you
it’s rather unceremonious and kind of clumsy. his limbs knock against your own and the couch creaks rudely with his added weight but eventually, he just gives up and sort of flops down on top of you, leaving his cheek smushing into your stomach and your legs spreading to accommodate his body
leon sighs. it rattles out of him while his arms snake around your waist, holding you pretty close for a guy who made out like he didn’t want this. it makes you smile, not that he can see it and for the first time ever, you hope that he can’t detect that butterflies that are still whirlwind-ing in your stomach, right under his head
instinctively, your fingers start to card through his hair. it feels like silk against your skin and it’s hard for you to imagine that not all that long ago it was thick with dirt and someone else’s blood—you try not to think about it as leon gives a small grunt of contentment, barely there and muffled but, it’s something
minutes pass by languidly, like time doesn’t really exist when leon is cosplaying as the most handsome weighted blanket. he stays quiet, enjoying the drag of your nails against his scalp and slowly, his breathing starts to even out as sleep starts to entice him but then he goes all at once and he jerks—hard
muscles pull taut all over his body while he goes from being on the edge of slumber to almost wide awake in the blink of an eye, “shouldn’t be—be doing this, i have work to do, reports and stuff” he rambles under his breath, trying to push himself up and away from you and this time you sigh deeply
guilt holds him in its grasp. survivors guilt—maybe. the constant feeling that he’s not allowed to relax, he’s not allowed to indulge in the simplest of things. the feeling that he has to keep going, an act of penance that’ll never be satisfied, no matter the amount of people saved or the heavy toll that it’s taking on his body
“leon—no, lay down,” you urge, though you sound more sympathetic than you’d like to. leon doesn’t like sympathy, he doesn’t like pity either but as your fingers slide underneath the neckline of his shirt and splay across tense muscles, he pauses, forces out a shuddered breath and then reluctantly relaxes again
“why do you even care about this?”
you flinch when leon can’t even ask why you care about him. he swaps the word with ease, leaves it unsaid but implied—even if he doesn’t mean to, “because i just do and if i didn’t, then who would?” you ask. it’s rhetorical, open ended if he wants to respond but there’s no pressure for him to try
strong arms loop around your waist again and large hands flatten against your spine, touching and committing the most ordinary parts of your body to memory, like it was made just for him, “you shouldn’t,” he whispers and the worst part is, he truly means it. he really doesn’t believe that anyone would care about him
“mhmm—sounded like a rough one this time so i’m trying to extra care of…this,” you breathe, repeating the same phrase that he used whilst shifting the subject ever so slightly. leon grunts in agreement—it was a rough job—and it gives you the chance to ask your favorite question, “do you want to talk about it?”
“no,”
just as you expected, the normal response. you have to ask him though and you won’t press the issue further, you won’t try to force him to open up about what he went through. instead, you leave it be and let an easy silence fill the space between you and him. you’re there if he changes his mind and that’s enough
in the meantime though, you drift your fingertips up and down the back of leon’s neck, tickling and just barely scratching your nails up through his hair and right back down to the top of his spine whilst leon seems to lose himself in a deep thought, one that allows you to see the proverbial cogs turning in his mind
a moment later, something shifts. you can’t pinpoint it and it’s odd because you feel it before anything really happens, almost like something prepares you for the shaky lungful of air that leon sucks into his body but then it leaves you high and dry, caught wholly off guard, for the gentle press of lips against your hipbone
it’s not a kiss—it can’t be. leon must’ve done it accidentally. too engrossed in his thoughts to realise that he did it but it felt like a kiss. fizzling beneath your skin, blossoming throughout your veins, a thing that you’ve wanted for too long. fleeting and sweet, causing you to overthink it, spoiling yourself with it. and then,
“i nearly died this time,”
your heart sinks. swooping low, stealing the air from your lungs. it hurts to hear, especially from a guy who has the most awful habit of consistently downplaying every single thing that happens to him, “w-what—oh my god—wait, come up here, please,” you gasp, screwing your hands into his shirt to haul him upwards
leon moves promptly, clambering and collapsing into the sliver of space between your body and the back of the couch. he slots in with ease and rolls you to face him, pressing his broad chest into yours as he settles his head against the armrest. he’s so close, more so than he’s ever been before but it's not enough
before you can think better of it, you’re draping your thigh up and over leon’s hip and tentatively resting your hand on his ribs but it doesn’t quite have the desired effect when leon flinches. a bruise from his assignment makes his body jerk and immediately, you feel awful and try to snatch your hand back
“no—don’t,” leon mumbles, vulnerable and out of his depth, while he catches your wrist and pulls your hand back to put it in it’s place. his own hand hovers over yours, displaying a size difference that makes you feel a little bit dizzy before his hand flits to your thigh and smooths tenderly up the outside of your leg
seconds bleed into minutes as you take the time to just exist with leon being so close. his breath fans over your cheek with every exhale and his hand squeezes lightly at your thigh but ultimately, you build up the courage to ask, “how did you—how did you almost…” you trail off, unable to say the words out loud
“that part doesn’t—it doesn’t matter,” leon answers you, too fast and frowning. his walls go back up—albeit, they’re only half the size that they normally are and ready to crumble at moments notice—while he attempts to draw your attention away from his confession. though, all it does is leave you feeling confused
an incredulous laugh bubbles in your throat, “leon—that’s insane, it does matter—you matter,” you rant frantically, hung up on the fact that you really almost lost him this time. sure—it’s a constant risk with his job but hearing him admit it makes it all too much for you to handle, “i mean—how can you even say that it—”
“i thought about you,”
oh. your previously sunken heart swells when leon cuts you off. your eyes widen as your breath hitches in your throat but your mind muddles with every single plausible implication of his words. maybe it’s wishful thinking on your part but it all leads back to one singular thing. still though, you blurt, “why?”
“i don’t know—i just—” leon stops himself and then presses his lips into a thin line. his eyes harden, only slightly, and his walls build themselves up to their full height. he’s struggling and you don’t blame him but you need to know and your fingers screwing into his shirt urges him on, “all i could think about was you and—”
you can’t take it anymore. you crowd into the small amount of personal space that he has left and press your lips into his and his walls collapse. he doesn’t hesitate, he doesn’t waste another second before he’s kissing you back. soft, slow, sweet, all of the things that you weren’t entirely sure that he was capable of
his hand finds your waist, squeezing and tugging you closer until your bodies are flush against each other. your hand slides over his jaw and he doesn’t wince when you brush against the bruise that’s blooming underneath your palm. if it hurts him, he doesn’t show it because he’s too busy. he’s right where he wants to be
it’s all consuming, swallowing both of you whole where you lay on the couch until the air in your lungs begins to thin, causing you and leon to part your lips in an effort to breathe. he’s smiling though, you can feel it against your mouth whilst your chest rises and falls with every gasping breath
“shit—if i’d known—would’a told you ages ago,” leon mumbles in between kisses that have turned needy. it’s like he’s been teased with the taste of you and he’s worried that if he pulls away now, he’ll never get it again. somehow, the thought of that is far more harrowing than anything he’s ever encountered on a job
“what do you mean—ages ago?” you whisper, also refusing to interrupt the lazy flow of kisses that are being shared between you and him, as your fingers ghost up his jaw and into his hair once more. not pulling or tugging, just playing deftly in a way that makes him grunt low in his chest and grip your waist harder
he hesitates now. stuck somewhere between wanting to wear his heart on his sleeve and wanting to keep all of his secrets under lock and key. there’s a lull in his kisses, a moment where he’s too stuck to remember that he’s supposed to be kissing you back but when you threaten to pull away, he makes his decision quickly
“i think about you every time—all the time,” leon concedes with his bloodshot eyes wildly searching yours. he sounds sure of himself, no mumbling or muttering under his breath, he’s admitting it and you can practically see the weight of it lifting off of his shoulders, “it’s always just—you,” he breathes
inside of your chest, your heart is preparing to burst. it aches with happiness and an overwhelming sense of fulfilment and you can’t stop yourself from surging forwards to kiss him again. leon gasps as his bottom lip slots between yours—a sound that you haven’t ever heard from him—and then when you pull back, he grunts
“think about you too,” you giggle, sharing his sentiment, before you wriggle in close and tuck yourself against leon’s body. you fit together like puzzle pieces, your head slotting under his chin while his muscular arms wrap you up. you’ve found your place and you never plan on leaving, “miss you when you’re gone,”
“yeah?” leon chuckles, deep and throaty, muffled by his lips pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you yawn and nod in response, “thought you were trying to trick me into sleeping,” he teases, revealing that he knew what you were trying to do this entire time—you’re not mad about it though
still though, you playfully huff, “yeah—well—i am,” you mumble and press your ear against his chest to listen to the thrum of his heart beating. it’s an even thump, not panicked or rushed, just satisfied, “you’re gonna nap with me,” you garble around another yawn as leon’s exhaustion becomes infectious
“am i?” leon asks, though he’s already rearranging himself to get comfortable and tightening his arms around you, holding you close and trapping you against him. you nod again, not giving him a choice, but he doesn’t seem to care when he’s kissing your temple and whispering a peaceful, “yeah—i am,”
thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah ily! send prompts to my ask box!
Context: inspired by “Last night on Earth” and the last event of Nod Krai where Wislawa revealed old weapons of the fatui are sold or used by recruits, even the ones of important people.
Warning: mentions of death (no one loses their life) and weaponry. angst? Please tell me if I forget anything.
Ps. I haven't written fanfiction for a while. Please be patient with me 😭. Also not my first language.
You had come to know him, years of traveling did that to partners turned lovers.
Ajax preferred to keep things implied, always making a weapon out of dramatics and social expectations; an avid charmer when needed and good at “persuasion” when that wasn't enough. But he had a sincere heart, even at the edges of his attempts at politeness his stance shone through small twitches of his smile. Because of that boisterous and sharp cut ways were his preference, he could proclaim his perceptions and values quite boldly if he didn't need to gain favor (being backed by his abilities to defend himself).
Being around him was easy in that sense, over the years even a lie or omission of his could be a very direct message. He trusted you to unravel it, a shared language and a testament of your bond; if he didn't know how long his mission would be he'd give you something to keep him around, maybe a scarf or a hairpin a merchant suggested, alongside the proclamation of wanting to know how much you'd both change the next time you cross paths; Whenever he was upset he kept an arrogant smirk on his face that unknowingly showed clenched teeth. It was enough for you to feel his restless boot against your own under the table to know he wasn't in a good mood; If he were to upset you he'd linger, sometimes in silence and others with tea, but always wanting to get over the conflict. He wasn't one to want to go to bed upset, even if that meant listening, sparring, or maybe just saying that he was “polishing his weapons, not lingering nearby”.
With him being so confident it was eerie, that night.
He had looked normal, his smile and relaxed eyebrows glancing at the landscape after a long commission in the mountains. He was staring at the stars, and his voice displayed the same peacefulness the summer breeze carried. “Comrade” a word he called whenever a pet name wasn't enough, reflecting something deeper in your history; an ally, a friend, his lover, his most trusted person. “Have I ever mentioned this one fatui tradition? You see, for our cause is bigger than us we are ready to give everything of ourselves, even… well, our lives.” he knew it wasn't pretty to say “The rest of ourselves is truly none the different. Our ranks, our names, even our weapons are passed or sold if it helps the future of the Fatui” he didn't seem to be sharing a burden, rather familiar with the fact “The Tsaritsa has earned my respect, as you are well aware of, in that regard I am willing to follow her desire for our nation” he didn't pause, but his eyes still visited the stars “Back when I asked you to be my witness on my fight with that enormous beast I was ready for the chance of my fall, underestimating any enemy is a fatal choice. But if I'm honest…” His eyes finally fell into your own, his smile looked like one of a gone man for a second. Even if he wasn't, wouldn't be. He merely was someone who wasn't scared to dip his heels in the darkest of concepts. “I am not sure I want that. I do not want my weapons to be collected and sold. My master showed pride, conquest and connection to her weaponry, it's only natural I feel the same” his hand slowly moved to rest his fingers over your own “so, I have to ask an important promise of you, my comrade. If I ever were to face the greatest of challenges in life, the one no warrior returns from… promise me you'll honor the weapon I've wielded all these years.” Even if he faced you it was clear memories played at his heart “the one you've cared for whenever I overused my delusion, the one that had your back through all of this, the one that has my truest will at its core”
No answer was easy to give at such a moment, for a second one could only wish life was made of the kindest scenes. The dinners full of laughter, the endless talks when climbing, even his annoying insistence on waking up slightly earlier to face your annoyance first thing in the morning. Carrying his hand to your heart, the only mumble that could take place was “I promise” because chances, wishes, the bestest of intentions didn't matter, they could end in tragedy nonetheless. You didn't notice his shoulders had stiffened at some point, only seen them fall after your words, this was clearly important to him.
His fingers moved from your hand only to caress your jaw quickly, a small comfort and familiar words “Now, don't go getting sad on me, comrade. I am not falling in any foreseeable future, remember, you still owe me one final fight” it felt both a blessing and a question, the way he remained untouched by time despite every adventure you went on. Even if it felt bittersweet to smile back, as an adventurer you knew tenderness took many shapes in this world. He sealed the moment with a kiss on your cheek, his arrogant smirk gaining presence once more.
“I'm here to honour you, if I lose everything in the fire did I ever make it through?"
I am back, I have written nothing but poetry for years but now I want to try again. Here is a list as a promise to myself
♡ Diluc
♡ Zhongli
♡ Tartaglia
♡ Baizhu
♡ Maybe Flins.
For years I've kept on waiting because I felt I didn't know enough to write, and that thought kept me from knowing anything at all. I might make mistakes but I want to make something.
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IMPORTANT: spoilers for his story/lines. May count as hurt/comfort?
If his eyes were keen for art he would have noticed how the window looked exactly like a piece of art, even with the rough edges of wood around it, scratched and old. Even with the insistent drops of rain hiding most of the outside landscape, even the small sideboard (in the same conditions as the window) played a harmonious part in the view. However, Ajax was far too lost in conversation to think of such trivial things, staring into your eyes instead, he could only wonder when was the last time he had gotten genuinely interested chatting like this. It was… great, he would decide.
So it felt a bit cold and uncertain when you stood up after he accepted a request you had, ready to proceed. He wasn't uncomfortable, rather taken aback by the spontaneity of your petition, but wouldn't deny you such a simple desire. You had asked to braid his hair, laughing away the confusion at the fact it was pretty short.
Your fingers were strangers to his body, unconsciously he held his breath before allowing it to escape again. Soft and carefully the locks of hair were slipping through your fingers, soft, so soft. He couldn't help but to stare at the window in front of him.
You brought dear memories back, ones that felt truly mundane back at the time but now were filled with adoration. The sounds of steps on the squeaking wood floor, sunshine invading the scene of the afternoon (and yet, never warming them up), his sister dutifully sat while their sisters braided each other's hair. They would talk for a long time, so much their eyelashes would start to noticeably weigh and night would reach them soon, but young Ajax would barely pay attention to their words.
Tartaglia couldn't help but smile in content. The rain in the window served him for inspiration as well, remembering the nights he would try to keep eyes closed enthusiastically as a child, unable to wait until morning to go fishing with father. Perhaps it would have been easier to be patient if imagination satiated his curiosity; what stories would father share the next day? What adventures would await him?
On nights where he was particularly struggling more the voice of their mother would be heard from afar, singing a lullaby to the younger brother while probably rocking him to sleep, loud enough for him to drift off as well.
Ah, it had been a long time since his chest had that burning sensation of impatience at night. Well, come to think of it, it had been a long time since a lot of things had happened for the last time. The man couldn't remember the last time he saw his mother braiding his sister's hair, the last time he made a pinky promise while chanting a nursery rhyme, fishing with his father, stepping on the cold ice with all his strength while trying to break it. Over, and over again.
Over, and over again.
Perhaps it was after the time he had gotten out of the abyss, or the first time his parents stared with horror back at him. Even with a prideful exterior, he could remember the coldness of loneliness chilling him to the bone, not that his mind would wander around the thought for long. Another guess could be the endless nights under the pure moon bathing his rough wounds, mother asking him what had happened. Childe knew she never meant what had wounded him, but what had happened to her son, to Ajax, and his voice was always unable to answer. Nobile always found himself at a loss of words at the thought of the abyss, if asked, if hinted, not a sound escaped him. He could just stay there; empty, stoic, displeased. He had never talked about it, couldn't remember even reflecting about it, as a secret forbidden even to himself.
The results of his first adventure were full of wisdom for battle, of strength and devotion, but to think more than that would certainly be… not noble at all.
As an instinct, eyes closed and another slow breath left him, the wind could be heard from afar, he wondered if his motherland was experiencing the same luck as well. Then, perhaps, Teucer and Anthon could play around with the kite from Liyue, that was if they still had it of course. Suddenly, uneasiness showered him, when was the last time he had seen it?... When would be the last time he would tell Anthon about other nations, hearing him talk about books? Dear Tonia was already growing out of the clothes he had gifted her… When would be the last time his little brother would believe his fake job, happily receiving his gifts? Has Teucer ever held his eyes tight at night while thinking about his arrival? Would they eventually ever look at him the same way their parents, coworkers, other people had?
He fixed his throat, and your touch was the owner of his attention once again. Soft, soft hands. Made him feel so fragile.
So fragile.
What had happened to Ajax?
He got the draining feeling, perhaps for the very first time, that it was over. That it all were but memories. That love hurted not because of its lack of existence, but
because he was once loved, deeply so; In the mountains hidden under the snow, dancing in the village festivals, in the forest they desperately looked for him, in the lakes and in snow fights, and on dinners where chairs were not enough, in the songs they would sing together, while doing chores for a hope of one minute more of playtime, while smelling the fresh baked bread in the morning, under the moon and sky that connected him back to his motherland. Ajax was once so genuinely and shamelessly loved.
His chest started to ache, hands flexing by instinct at the irritation his own loud heartbeat caused. His stare traveled away from the window, close to the wall, to his side. And there was you. You. It made his heart so silent with anticipation.
He could find the stars in your eyes, leaving a trail after you just barely breathed and you just stood there. And it burnt him, filled with doubts, his bleeding scars wondering if there would come a time your stars would prove to be just as hurtful, just as beautiful, just as tragic as it all has.
—I was right! — you positioned in front of him, hands close to his face but not enough for him to feel your touch.
—A-ah?– Confusion evident in his expression, Nobile had gotten lost in thought to keep up with your actions.
–You look lovely with them.
Before a reaction reached him you were off to braid the other side of his hair. His eyes trembled, he wanted— almost needed to stare at you. No words could leave nor find his quittering mouth, not a movement, his hands meeting weakness after years of battle. Eyelashes could only stay frozen at your touch, not a tear would leave him, that he oathed to himself. Snezhnaya doesn't believe in tears anymore, and Ajax wasn't ready to do so either. And still ever so shameless you stole him of his breathing, of his beating heart, and he questioned how strong he really was.
But Ajax, he was so tired. So quiet, for the very first time. He closed his eyes, leaned in, and swore to count the sparkles over and over again just for the opportunity to trust you like this forever. Now that you have given him the dream of such gentle affection, he can only hope in silence that you'll defend it until the end.
—Thank you.
That night, under your touch, Ajax was loved.
I've walked around this one for a while, it's a bit hard to understand his character but still I hope you'll like it (some words/phrases make sense as references to his voicelines). This was inspired by Little women scene "I can't believe childhood is over" and a quote I came across from James Joyce (althought I don't know its context, I apologize) "Touch me. Soft eyes. Soft soft soft hand. I am lonely here. O, touch me soon, now. What is that word known to all men? I am quiet here alone. Sad too. Touch, touch me.“
Please do not copy, repost, etc. Thank you for reading!
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Note: It felt like I was writing an argumentative essay for some reason. Also he’s very pretty and I love him. Tbh I’m reluctant to post this since this isn’t very romantic :(
⇥ Rook Hunt • Idia Shroud ⇤
He’s so disappointed. He has high standards and there’s nobody who has reached those standards. However, he still has a crush on you.
Vil is some what annoyed with his own feelings. Yeah it’s somewhat directed towards you. He’s both simping for you and death glaring you.
He’s all about appearances so of course he’s gonna look his best whenever he’s around you. Even if it doesn’t matter to you, he appreciates that but he’s doing it for himself. He’s just especially charming and is glowing more than usual when he’s with you.
He’s gonna be flirting hella hard but will get very upset if you stay oblivious or dismiss him. He’s trying so hard for you please at least acknowledge him.
If he’s gonna be with you, then you have to look almost as good as him (not as good, nobody could be better than him/hj). He hands you a bunch of beauty products and tells you to use them every single day. He made sure that it worked on your type of skin and everything.
Plus he styles you, he’s really making sure you look perfect. One wrinkle in your clothes and he’s freaking out and scolding you (in a loving way).
All of this sounds very negative but he’s actually really sweet. He defends you no matter what. Some people say stuff about how you don’t deserve his attention and such however that’s not true. He knows that.
He’s also a very effective tutor. Some people would think he would get mad if you didn’t get something but if you were putting in actual effort then he’s gonna help you no matter how long it takes.
Also he genuinely thinks you’re beautiful in your own way already. It’s not the traditional type of beauty but he still finds it compelling. He wants to enhance that beauty yk.
He takes you out a lot. He has the money and he would gladly spent a good amount of money on you. He liked taking you out because you two look like an actual couple. He takes pictures and he has a whole album of pictures dedicated to you. He knows better not to post them but he just looks at them and smiles. (Love is real guys)
He only admits this in his head but you give him a strong feeling that hes never felt before. It’s a happy feeling that he only ever feels around you. He never wants the moment to end.
But honestly, he’s gonna get more and more direct with you.
It’s obvious that you’re important to Vil since people see him scolding you and pampering you like Epel but different. It seems less obligation but love.
That look in his eyes makes it seem like he’s about to kiss you sometimes.
It’s no secret to Rook. Rook makes comments about his love for you, Vil isn’t surprised that Rook caught on. He won’t deny it to Rook however he is fighting for his life against anybody else.
He’s denying it so hard because it would be bad if it got out “Vil Schoenheit has a secret lover!!” He doesn’t feel like dealing with that.
Also you and Epel best friends because you two get similar treatment except you get privileges and he doesn’t.
Simply put, he's trying his best to romance you without letting you know it's him who's romancing you
Something something anxious you'll reject him something
So yeah, flowers, subtle gifts in the form of things you happen to need, everything is handed to you on a silver platter of convenience
And the sender himself is nowhere to be found or even heard of
Throw in how he's not exactly known for being amorous, as popular as he is, how could you possibly have suspected it was from him?
Of course you'd ask around, sparking a whole new chain of talk about your mysterious admirer
And lots of unwanted advice from the well-meaning citizens of Mond
"You should try asking around at the Angel's Share. Master Diluc always seems to know a little about everything, maybe he has something for ya."
Having no other leads, you went ahead with it
As with every other evening, the place was packed, drunkards exchanging tales over their liquor
There was nothing of value to be gotten from them, so you made a beeline for the redhead behind the counter
"Good evening, what can I get for you this time?"
"You wouldn't happen to have information, would you? On umm, the person who's been sending me all these presents."
He stiffens up, though not enough to be distinctly noticeable
He was going to say no, continue to lay low for a bit more, but when you looked at him so expectantly, it was hard for him to turn you down
It was even worse when you pressed further, prying for details to push your luck
Still, he caved and answered, fumbling as he did, because there was only so vague he could be the more you questioned
"You seem to know this person really well, it's almost like- Wait, Diluc, are you??"
In your excitement, you had gotten up, kneeling on the barstool and leaning across the counter to come face to face with him
"I've thought of something else you can get me, bartender~"
"Y-yes, and...what might that be?"
"You<3"
_____
"Just like that?" Kaeya confirmed, throwing his head back and laughing as he turned to his brother. "Yeah, just like that," you echoed, smiling at your lover who glowered at the blue haired captain. Diluc sat himself between the two of you as he wrapped an arm around you. "I told you it'd be easier to just ask them," Kaeya quipped, only to be silenced with a glare. "I recall," Diluc said. "But it worked out fine all the same." And fine it was, as he pressed a kiss to your temple, content that he no longer had to fret over hiding from you.
Dottore:
For someone who's all about the enjoying the experimental process, even he was growing tired of the lack of results
Were his hints (link to past post) too difficult to notice even for you? Had he overestimated your abilities?
Perhaps that was the case, so he'd have no choice but to resort to a more tried and true method
But of course even then he'd twist it in his own way to suit himself
It's not like there was any point in conforming to a standard the complete opposite of his own lest you fall for anything short of who he truly was
So he approaches you under the guise of a personal experiment, a little something that had piqued his interest
"You can be my lover for a... how's a month sound?"
You choked on your drink
As if being approached by the harbinger you worked for during your lunch break wasn't nerve wracking enough, that was what he wanted to talk to you about?
Despite his offhanded demeanor, seeming to not care about whether you agreed to it or not, you had a feeling it would be in your best interests to go along with it
It's not like you weren't at least somewhat into him anyway
His smile from under the mask did seem very ominous to any sane person though
Perhaps you weren't entirely sane, because the doctor's low chuckle didn't send you running for the hills in spite of you having no idea what he was planning
But really, how hard could it be to play the part of Il Dottore's lover for a month?
The answer was not at all
The position came with a number of privilege you were sure you'd miss once you lost them
Free access to anything under Dottore's command? Almost the same level of authority?
Really, it was insane just how much you were getting out of something that stemmed from his curiosity
And it really had you wondering just how he could afford to spare you all this luxury without batting an eye
Your colleagues, while understandably jealous, had been surprisingly supportive as well, giggling in your ear about how soft the doctor seemed to be for you
But all you could think of was how it was all a lie
You had to keep reminding yourself how quickly it would be over, and that you'd soon return to your old post
Even in the doctor's presence, which was often, you were doing mental gymnastics to stay calm at his every doting gesture
How was it even possible for him to hold you so gently? You'd never know
His duality was such that he could snap at the Regrator in a tone you're sure was icy enough to make the Tsaritsa proud all while holding you in his lap with the warmest possible embrace
And every moment felt like it'd last forever
Could he freeze time? You sort of hoped he would experiment with that and inevitably extend the time you had with him
You, ever the fool, had gotten comfortable with the arrangement even when you'd repeatedly reminded yourself not to
Although one could say you were an even bigger fool for not realising how he set you up to fall for him
Did you really think he was capable of looking at anyone he didn't consider special to him with enough warmth to melt a room when you can't even see his eyes?
On the final day of your agreement, you were finally starting to worry about how you were supposed to go about your old job after all you'd experienced with Dottore
Could you even function without remembering how nice it was to have his reassuring hand on your back?
"Oh my, anyone would think you were upset by the thought of leaving me if you pulled that face."
"Lord Dottore! I didn't notice- I'm sorry I-"
"No, this has been...a very successful experiment, if I do conclude. It has definitely helped me to confirm something important, I was just thinking of how to reward you for your help."
"I'm honoured I was able to assist, my lord. I'd be happy to accept any gift you might grace me with."
He frowned a little, and you were worried you had misspoken
Well, technically, you had, because he was hoping you'd have gotten comfortable enough with him over the month to drop the formalities
"Any gift? Then it's decided. We'll just have to make this a permanent arrangement, wouldn't you agree, my dear? In which case I think it only fitting that...when we're alone like this, you should call me Zandik."
The last part was softer, like the utterance of his name was for no one but you (it was)
Dottore might have been the feared harbinger, but Zandik was your affectionate maniac, and yours alone
_____
"Zandik, I never really did get to ask...why did you choose me for that experiment anyway? It just all seems far too fortunate for everything to fall into place so easily," you asked. You hadn't expected him to grin - more to himself than anyone else. "Yes, very fortunate indeed, you must be quite the lucky one then, favoured by the goddess of love herself, no?" he chuckled. He wondered if you would ever figure out he schemed it all, or if you'd remain blissfully ignorant. Gingerly, he took off his mask and set it on your face. "Would you look at that, it suits you too," he mused. "So why don't we just take it, that we were bound to end up like this one way or another, my precious?"
Itto:
You'd think it's obvious since he's such an outspoken guy
But he's fairly prideful too, so chances are, he's gonna try get you to ask him out
Unfortunately for him, he very much does want to cut the chase and ask you out so he doesn't have to wait
It's really a dilemma, and it doesn't help that no one in the gang apart from Shinobu gives sound advice
Just ask you out? Yeah right, Shinobu, he's gonna go with what the other guys say and just make himself seem so cool you'll be dying to go out with him
So he hangs around you a lot, dragging you with him and talking about how the Arataki Gang is doing stupendously
And who's leading the gang? None other than him, of course!!
Surely you'll think he's awesome, right?
Of course, credit where credit's due, he does end up talking about Shinobu a lot, praising her and how well she helps manage things
In part, that's supposed to help you see how humble he is despite his awesomeness
Too bad it gave the impression that he liked Shinobu, leading to you trying to set them up
Did you kinda like Itto? Yeah, sure, what wasn't there to like about him?
But that was also why you thought you should put your own feelings aside and help him out
And Itto, the sweet dumbass, not knowing any better, went along with all your ideas thinking you just wanted to spend time with him
You were taking him shopping for stuff!! That seems like a date, right? He was counting as a date
Yes, you were trying to dress him up and "coincidentally" bump into Shinobu and abandon them to have dinner together, but Itto didn't know the second half of that
He was absolutely memorising every detail to tell the rest of the gang after about how it worked and you slyly tried to go on a date with him
He was planning up how to tell them already
And you were dressing him up too? Look at you, acting like you're already married, he's very head empty
My guy is so ready to call you out on it when you bump into Shinobu a little earlier than expected
"Oh, what are you two up to? No offence, y/n, it's just that Itto typically doesn't come around town without some sort of mayhem following."
"Hey, you know that's not true, people love me, I-"
Red alert: he was looking stupid in front of his crush
And when you were quick to defend him? Boy, he looked like he wanted to kiss you then and there
You thought you were salvaging his reputation, but really, it just made you look like you were taking his side unconditionally
At least that's how it seemed in the moment
"How about that, boss. You actually got them to fall for you hard enough to overlook your idiocy. Who'd have thought?"
"Well, of course no one can resist the one and Oni Arataki Itto, y/n included, right my bug?"
You couldn't even be offended at his awful petname for you because there was so much to process
Were you dating now? Was that how it went?
Honestly, you could roll with that, as funny of a way as it was to get together
You didn't even have the heart to tell him about the misunderstanding because he seemed so proud to show off to everyone how you finally got together
_____
The members of the Arataki Gang gathered around with gathered sakura blooms as they scattered the petals around to congratulate the two of you. For the most part, Itto was just recounting the tale from his perspective, which was pretty funny to hear since you knew how it all actually went down. Had you really looked at him with the love the ocean had for the moon? It was almost embarrassing to hear how he described you, the poetic brilliance so unlike his typical crude speech. Certainly, it was a simple as comparing you to fresh grass in the summer, but it was very him to do so. And you supposed that was the magnetic charm of his after all.
Zhongli:
He can't think of a time when he's ever been so desperate to reach out to someone and yet so hesitant
But that had to be all the more reason for him to keep his distance because imagine if he lost you once he'd gotten attached?
Absolute devastation
But a small part of him insists you're worth the risk
Sadly, not enough to convince him because what if one day you realise you're just wasting your time with him? If you didn't actually like him any more than as a dear friend?
So you end up in this awful push and pull, hot and cold situation where one day he's inviting you out, eager to spend time with you
And the next day he's nowhere to be found, uncontactable as though he was never a part of your life
It got tiring really fast, so you roped in Hu Tao, since as his boss, she probably had his schedule
That and Hu Tao very much seems to be aware of something you aren't (aka the fact that Zhongli is immortal)
She wants to fill you in so badly because she's pretty done with watching Zhongli pine and then act like he never did
Still, she respects his boundaries (mostly) so she just helps drag him out of hiding
And by that, I mean calling him to work for something really important so he'll rush over
So you can imagine how his eyes widened when he saw you waiting with the director
"Director...and y/n, did I miss something?"
He knew he was being played the moment he saw Hu Tao's close-eyed smile but it was too late to run
Even then, Hu Tao wasn't one to break character, so she sent the two of you on some errands for her
So off you go, wandering Liyue on tasks you're certain have no relevance to whatever Hu Tao actually needs
Part 1: Scouring mountains for qingxin
At some point, Zhongli decided it'd be so much easier to just boost you up with his geo structures and catching you when you jumped/slid back down
No, he's definitely not the geo archon he's just very proficient at using his vision, he assures you
With the way he talks about Liyue as you search for flowers, even you end up piecing it all together
"What's it like to no longer be worshipped?"
"It's definitely more peaceful."
He pauses and slowly turns towards you
"I seem to be slipping up a lot today. This is exactly why I can't be around you. Still, what were the chances you'd figure this out before picking up on my feelings for you?"
Look at him turning the tables on you, it was now your turn to be flustered
How dare he
With a gentle tenderness only the passage of time could train, he picked out one particular flower from the bunch and held it beside your cheek
"Would it be inappropriate for me to comment on how you put even the loveliest of flowers to shame? Or should I find an equally appealing piece of jade or cor lapis to match the shine of your eyes?"
"What's with this sudden flattery?"
"You do bring out the worst in me sometimes. Even centuries of solitude couldn't grant me the patience to wait for you to choose me."
_____
You'd returned to the funeral parlour with Zhongli, both of you hauling massive bouquets in your arms. "We've found the-" Zhongli began, only to be cut off by his boss chiding him. "Aiya, I gave you the perfect opportunity and you still have no game!"
"No, but I did-" He turned to you with pleading eyes, but it was a sight too funny to pass up on. You'd make it up to him later, of course. But for the time being, you'd let yourself be amused with his suffering as payback for ghosting you all those times.
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At first he will detach himself from his feelings to evaluate the situation, he cares for his balance and knows introducing a person to his life carries weight.
For this reason he wouldn't mention you in front of Ayaka, Thoma, or anyone that is not an informant under his command. Said informants will provide him with your data. Normally this could be seen as a far more serious crush, but to Ayato this is a required step into any sort of communication, even business, so he doesn't really think anything big about it.
He is most interested in your past, your motivation, and most importantly, your loyalty. It is not that he is focused on being the receiving end of it, but it's an important quality to him, to know what is sacred to you.
Once he is sure about progressing, he will start appearing around the places you frequent (those with less people, or that won't put attention on him). Won't talk to you, but will make a background presence. Ayato thinks of love as sacred, something to protect, a blessing. But still will perceive this as part of a plan in consequence of liking you, an investigation (of you and his feelings).
If you were to make the first step and introduce yourself, it would be no different to him doing so (except he would drop a small chuckle after introducing himself in the first case).
The beginning:
His clothes, words, and acts express more about his identity than he would like. But this is also a small test for you, will you ask about it? Will you make an assumption about his status, work, life?
At first he is tempted to just be himself and not talk about his status at all, and probably he will during the first and second meeting, when he is still taking in your image.
This doesn't last more than that when he finds himself charmed by you, might even feel surprised at it, hesitant in every step but with a plan regardless. Now, don't think lowly of him. Yes, this man will put you through small tests, but it's for the good of both of you (or so he is sure).
They won't be anything big at all, he starts giving you information about his work, his environment, even his way of proceeding by jokes or situations that feel unplanned but show his power. Ayato wouldn't want to involve you into something you don't want to carry or can't grasp the weight of. He wants you to be sure about how you feel towards that aspect of his life, will always softly stare at you and analyze your reactions.
Shall you ask something mostly unimportant he might answer vaguely, still, will always redirect the question back to you. In fact, he is a smooth talker and can have you sharing your opinions comfortably before you realize. Will ask you about everything he already knows, not only because hearing it from you makes him feel warm, but also to know how much you are willing to share with him.
Normally Ayato's plans are meant to be seen as innocent, only to have you tied and already defeated once you realize. However, as explained, he wants your will to continue, during this time he will always give you the chance to walk away. Won't admit it, but would be hurt if you were to change your view on him to someone vile.
Shall we proceed?:
Variety is the spice of life, Ayato finds himself rewriting poetry to collect his thoughts on you far more often then he would like to explain, and comes to the realization he wants more. But information is vain in comparison to sharing a moment next to the you. So, he starts to plan things you both could do together (away from people, preferably, it's more intimate that way).
Very biased to walk around nature; rivers, flower fields.
Rewriting is very helpful for him, but not so much for the workers who have to clean up after the mess of books he leaves behind. Sometimes having to find the original place of books that had not been taken from the bookshelf in years.
This also means he is not hiding his crush to people he trusts, however, he won't get into it. A smile or a short laugh is all they'll get at the mention of his feelings.
His eyes will start to express more, words revealing something new, even when poetical and cryptic you can sense his feelings. You can catch a nostalgic glance whenever walking around shrines, snow, cypresses, or when sharing about tradition.
And his mind isn't any different, he finds himself having that kind of desire; to be the breeze playing with your hair, to be the flowers you get so carelessly close to, the snow that got in your skin before he could take you away from it. Starts to relate more to the books he has rewritten thousands of times, and finds your mundane moments as the most beautiful of poetry.
On the opposite side, you will also catch him expressing dislikement in a much more casual way, with expressions such as; "Ugh", "I mean, really?".
If you were to visit him late at night you will catch him stuttering and trying to keep his composure, taken aback by the surprise visit. He wants to be presentable in front of you, but also feels tired, so give him a minute and he'll manage to ask you to stay for dinner.
Similar to this, he will start sharing more about him without realizing, sudden thoughts escaping his lips only to apologize and chuckle the seriousness away.
Has a box full of quills that were gifted to him when people found out his hobby of transcription, but if you were ever to give him one, he'll keep it on his desk to stare at.
In the end…
Finds your existence as such a noble blessing, won't hesitate towards his feelings anymore, was certain from the first time you ever heard him struggle with words. He'll think about that moment late at night, when the light of his vision is the only thing lighting up the room, "Ah… Such is life" is all he'll say to allow himself to let it go.
Doesn't want to overwhelm you with gifts, but does keep an eye on whatever calls your attention. Apart from flowers he would probably give you a hairpin/accessory and luxurious perfumes.
Becomes more teaseful, very lightly though, would never put you in an awkward situation.
At first when playing chess he would have let you win as part of his investigation, but now he is not reluctant to go all in.
Kamisato Ayato doesn't often let down his guard at the feeling of peace, but whenever around you he would allow himself to do so, brushing your hair out of your face, lingering in your skin, a stare so careful it almost feels fragile; "Being around you is always blissful, hmm… Yes, it feels rather like basking in the sun."
If you were to accept him then his loyalty is all yours, of course, it's only fair you delight him with yours as well.
<~•°•°♡°•°•~>
I made this after reading about him. Some things have context when you read his story/voice lines but I hope it makes sense nonetheless. I know Ayato has some complicated thoughts regard terms such as sacred, blessing, etc, however I think he would use them dearly from learning them via his family.
This is me trying to warm up to the idea of writing more so I tried taking it easy. Also my first language isn't English, still I hope the wording is okay.
Edited: my goal for this was 15 notes, so I'm really happy. Thanks for interacting!