BNHA AND THEIR INSECURITIES.

✫ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ✫ — [part 1]

𝐟𝐭.;; albedo, childe, diluc, xiao, and scaramouche

[part two is here]

𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐎;; “Hm…? You wish to know more about [Name]? Well, I suppose I might be of assistance. [Name] is an intriguing individual, I’ll give them that. Just when I think I’ve finally got them pinned down, they manage to evade me yet again. But surprisingly, I think I actually find that to be…enjoyable? How odd…Ah, my apologies. Where were we again?”

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄;; “Oh-? You’re asking me about [Name]? Why? Are you interested in them, Traveller? Haha, there’s no shame if you are, no need to be shy comrade! Oh…you aren’t? That’s a relief…hm? I didn’t say anything. It must be your imagination!”

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂;; “[Name]…? They’re okay, i suppose. As far as customers go, they don’t really frequent the tavern, but when they do, they always manage to pay without issue. In my books, that would make them a relatively decent person. And…I find that I quite enjoy the time spent between us, regardless of how short it is…huh? My face looks…red? You’re probably imagining it, traveller.”

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎;; “You want to know about [Name]? Tch, stupid mortal. You shouldn’t call out my name for tedious things like this…ugh…I suppose I could indulge you. [Name] is…strange, to put it bluntly. I tell them time and time again to not make me Almond Tofu, and yet, it seems like their hearing has failed them. I also think they’re adding too much sugar to it, because whenever I eat it, there’s this weird, tingly feeling in my chest, and my face gets embarrassingly warm. They should really cut down on the sugar..”

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄;; “Hah? [Name]? Tsk, you’ve got a lot of nerve, don’t you Traveller? I can see that look in your eye, and quite frankly, it’s pissing me off. Let’s get one thing straight. [Name] is mine, so back off, got it? They’d never look twice at someone like you, so get that delusion out of your head. I’m the only one who [Name] likes, not you.”

how about y/n who is better at cooking then bakugou. how would bakugou react + the whole class when they taste y/n cooking. thank you!

Jgvhh yes

GN reader

Bakugou is very very conflicted

On one hand he likes to be the best and in the other he loves seeing you happy and he likes eating your food

He'd likely challenge you cooking competitions and the rest of the class likes it because then they get to eat the food the two of you cook

Bakugou would also love to cook with you especially if you teach him new recipes that he can make

He would demand that your classmates judge who's food is better and would probably yell at them if they say yours is even if it's true

Just give him some kisses (in private of course) and he'll be back to his normal self in no time

But you should still be prepared for more competitions

WAKING UP TO THEIR EMBRACE !

synopis: waking up to their embrace after staying at their place last night.

characters: childe, diluc, itto, kaeya, kazuha, xiao, zhongli

content warnings: suggestive + gn!reader

childe: when you wake up with sleepy eyes after coming home, to childe’s apartment you feel a loose arm around your waist. already noticing that the dull eyes have been staring at you before you had awaken. you cannot help but get flustered, as he presses a kiss to your head.

diluc: your back would be to his chest while he holds you by your waist, sleeping and nuzzled deep into your hair. he loved your aroma and scent and adored it so much. waking up to him is nice and cozy because he hardly snores and he usually wakes up after you do to say good morning.

itto: waking up to him is basically like being held by a huge teddy bear. he does snore a bit in the morning but perhaps it’s a sound you can get accustomed too. though if you wake up before him, he’ll just encourage you to go back to sleep.

kaeya: waking up to him feels like a short blessing, because he is so warm and hearing him praise and flirt with you at dawn is like the cherry on top. though a majority of the time his flirty comments makes you nervous so you end up burying your head into his shoulder.

kazuha: he always holds you upon his chest carefully, stroking the strands of your hair and saying good morning once your eyes meet the sun peaking through the windows. he’ll ask simple questions and always asking if you wanted to catch breakfast with him.

xiao: he generally likes to watch you fall asleep but the temptation and the urge to hold you, is way too strong which is why you awake in the morning to him pressing your head upon his chest while he tells you to go back to bed and kisses your forehead.

zhongli: oh archons, he is so gentle. he holds you very carefully and softly, making sure that you are safe in his warmth and embrace. he either has your head placed on his chest or shoulder to guarantee you comfort.

put your head on my shoulder

pairings: diluc, zhongli, kaeya, itto, thoma x gn!reader

genre: fluff

summary: small scenarios about resting w/ the genshin boys (unestablished relationship)

wc: 700+

warnings: none!

extra notes: hold me in your arms, baby~ (someone pls tell me they get the song reference-) i’m thinking of making a second part where i expand and turn the scenarios into small fics :)

you can find my masterlist here

diluc

imagine resting on him under the great tree at windrise at the end of a paired patrol one night. thanks to your insistence, the winery owner begrudgingly accepted your request. sleep overtakes you as you sit beside him and the poor man freezes when he feels a weight on his shoulder, slowly tilting his head to look at you.

adorable, he thinks. so adorable that it makes his heart squeeze in a way he’s never experienced before, and butterflies begin to flutter around in his stomach. after a long moment of contemplation he silently shrugs off his large coat and drapes it around your shoulders. not too long after, diluc places his cheek on top of your head, snoozing off with you. you seem content with the new warmth, huddling closer to the man who held your heart even if he didn’t know that yet.

(more utc!)

zhongli

the two of you were out for the whole day after he promised to help you with your commissions as repayment for all the money you’ve lent him. you shook your head in disagreement, telling him there was no need and that you just wanted him to remember his mora, but he was firm in his insistence.

night came sooner than expected and you were still a distance away from the familiar safety of liyue harbour. you were by wangshu inn, to be precise, but neither of you had the mora for a room. instead, zhongli found you both a relatively warm shelter under a tree and suggested sleeping there for the night. the ground was quite unforgiving, however, and soon you could feel yourself getting sore. noticing your discomfort from the hard ground, zhongli offered you his body. sturdy arms were held open invitingly, beckoning you to him.

kaeya

on his way back to his apartment after a long day at work you stumble across him and decide to make up for some lost time. you, yourself, had been busy at the guild and so you didn’t have as much time to spend with each other- much to both of your dismays. you decided that sitting by the lake outside the walls would be the best location to relax by.

kaeya passes out on you seeming to be asleep- but in reality he’s only pretending. it’s the only way he knows how to get closer to you without his false, flirty facade. you’ve rejected each one of his prior advances and it took quite the toll on his confidence. perhaps they truly feel nothing for me after all, he thought to himself dejectedly one day. so he took the cowards way out. if this was the closest he would get to you then so be it.

itto

it was raining by the time the pair of you decided to head back to hanamizaka. not wanting you to catch a cold (or perhaps more so to save his hair…), itto leads you to a nearby cave to take shelter. thunder claps in the distance and you startle, jumping at every boom in the sky.

a wave of understanding hits the oni suddenly as he clasps your smaller hand in his protectively, pulling you to his chest and making sure you felt as safe as possible. shuffling you so that you were basically using him as your makeshift bed, itto smoothed his hands up and down your back. his embrace was comforting and all-encompassing, and you dozed off feeling much safer.

thoma

whilst you loved your job as another estate keeper, days could really be tiring. you truly loved the people you worked with and the people you worked for but the job was quite physically exerting. nobody understood that better than thoma and so he grabbed ahold of your wrist and tugged you towards the nearby cliff.

the sun was just beginning to set beyond the horizon as you and thoma conversed for what seemed to be both an eternity and not enough time at all. though you were certain he’d never return your feelings, you couldn’t bear to be away from him and so you treasured tender moments between you. thoma turned to you after noticing the prolonged silence but was surprised to see you already fast asleep. shaking his head he carefully drew you in close enough to rest against his side, smiling to himself. he’d tell you how he feels one day.

published on 15/03/22

hii may i request kind of a platonic levi x reader in which reader is part of the cadets but levi has always been like their parent figure and he's glad they finally make friends and looks out for them, thanks

“i’m glad you made friends y/n”

pairing: platonic!levi ackerman x platonic!gender neutral reader

cw: nothing 

word count: 2100+

a/n: this is different to my normal stuff, literally just a parent child relationship going on here

summary:  in which your parent figure levi sees you finally become a part of the survey corps, he can finally see people around you who will stick by and look out for you

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

We all know Levi grew up in terrible conditions and was taught how to kill by Kenny.

But this man just wants the best for you.

You were of course a lot younger than him, but he saw you as a sister/daughter to him.

Refuses to acknowledge that he cares about you.

This man will literally walk past you without caring but then in private will care about your wellbeing.

Erwin is definitely a father to you.

It’s already established, him and Levi started caring for you at such a young age that they’re just your two dads.

You don’t call them dad though or they’ll both glare at you.

Didn’t want you to join the scouts, Levi more, he knew the risk and he knew you; it wasn’t a good mix.

Refuses to let you leave to join the cadets corps, you sneak behind his back and Hanje definitely planned it all out for you to join.

Angry Levi couldn’t do anything.

You joined the 104th and instantly became friends with everybody.

Hard for Levi to visit you as much but in the two years he would send letters.

So cute right. No it isn’t.

Half of it is always an angry rant about how he hates you joining, and the other half is his anger at Hanje.

It gets better along the two years, even Erwin sending you letters

Parent goals.

When you graduate you see Erwin who gives you the widest smile and a big, I miss you hug. 

It had been months since you’d seen Levi and he missed you.

His short self-will hug you in front of people, he wants to be nice to you.

But he hits your head for actually joining the scouts.

Cue your confused friends.

The ceremony to decide where you and the 104th would spend the rest of your lives, as everybody had started to leave, getting there stuff to follow their new commander. You went up to Erwin a smile on his face, “Y/n.”

You smile back opening your arms for one of his hugs that you had missed, even if you saw Levi every 6 months, you hadn’t seen Erwin since you left. Now here you were under his command, “Erwin, I missed you.”

He hugged back, lifting you up like a child, your legs dangling off the ground. It was the exact same hug you had felt in your years with them, you had been taken in by the scouts after your parents death. Never expecting to have finally joined the scouts you felt accomplished of having gotten into the top ten and now fight alongside Levi and Erwin.

“I missed you too.” He let go looking at your much shorter frame, “Levi will murder you.”

“Can’t wait.” You laugh hearing your friends call your name.

“I’ll see you soon.” You nod, he ruffles your hair before you run to your friends.

You had become a lot closer to those who had joined the corps with you especially Armin, Sasha and Jean. It was relieving to know you weren’t joining the scouts alone, of course you knew Eren the suicidal manic was joining but since the titan incident. You didn’t really know what was going on and would have to pressure Levi for answers.

“What did Commander Erwin have to ask?” Armin spoke, in the two years with them, they didn’t know a lot about your life. They knew your parents were dead but had assumed you lived with other relatives and not spent your days with the scouts. Of course even the scouts had to admit that teaching a kid how to wield a knife was a recipe for creating another Levi.

Which if Levi got asked about it, he would disregard the answer. Even though he was the first person to teach you how to use a knife and even the ODM gear, which made you a natural pro on the second day at the cadet corps.

“Oh nothing really.” You quickly moved onto how you were ready for this and how you weren’t worried at all.

You had always asked to go with Levi outside the walls, but you’d get the same glare with silence. Indicating a clear no, even Erwin gave you a look of no and that’s final. You couldn’t wait to experience real titans outside the walls, of course in Trost you had seen the titans but this, this would be with Levi properly.

The arrival to where the scouts were was quick, horses and an old castle which looked unclean was in your eyeline. You knew Levi had probably made his squad clean it, feeling sympathy for them and how Hanje was probably experimenting with her own titans. Meeting the section commander that would be in charge of you and your friends and going through your positions for the 57th expedition was a lot, all you wanted to do was to see Levi.

You really did miss them, but it was worth it all to be able to fight alongside them against the titans. All stepping into where you saw some men, you smiled which they reciprocated. Nobody had really asked anything about it assuming you knew them from back home. You all heard Eren behind you smiling at the boy. You had to give it to the boy he knew what he wanted, and he was certainly going to get it.

“Y/n, I knew you’d keep your promise to join.” Eren grinned out remembering the first day you both had met. You had been as adamant as him to join but your reasons a lot more different, Jean having made fun of you both.

But the horse face stood right beside you, a shock to the titan boy, as they spoke about the death of Marco it was a lot to take in when you and Jean had told everybody. Having both found him together, and it had broken you to see a friend dead, just another body in the numbers. Being passed the capes, you put it on before a voice you had missed.

“Y/n.” It was Levi’s emotionless self, you grinned happily going towards him. Eren had told you about how he had been in Levi’s squad, so you assumed Levi hadn’t said anything.

You didn’t care if they knew about the parental relationship you had with Levi, you missed him too much to care. “Levi.” You stood in front of him, “oops sorry Captain Levi.”

“Don’t say that, brat.” You suppressed a laugh.

“How do I look?”

“Tired.” He muttered; you shoved his shoulder at his remark.

You had missed him a lot, the letters and two-minute meetings every six months had not done your relationship justice. He grabbed your arms bringing you into a hug, which you happily took, “I missed you, brat.”

“I missed you too, old man.” You hugged back, the past two years having took a toll on both of you, him more. He looked even more dull and emotionless and you knew you’d had to talk to him about it afterwards.

He let go, before grabbing your ear and dragging you down to his height. He hit the back on your head, “ow, ow, ow” You repeated multiple times, his grip on your ear getting tighter.

“This is what you get for joining.” After every word he hit the back of your head, before letting you go. “When Erwin told Hanje and I you joined, I had to kill you myself before the titans got a chance.”

“Levi, don’t be like that, I’ve been gone for two years.”

He crossed his arms glaring at you, “Hanje wants to see you.”

“You just don’t want to admit that you wanted me to join.” He scowls before leading you away from your friends, their faces confused and agape at what had happened.

“Are they related?” Connie questioned.

“They’re not, she would’ve told us, maybe they’re dating…” Sasha speaks which leads to a horrified look.

Jean pipes up quickly dismissing the thought entirely, “he’s like 30 that’s gross and Y/n isn’t like that.”

“We’ll ask her once she comes back.” Armin spoke being the only sane one around in the group.

Levi had taken you to see Hanje who looked to be holding some sort of titan skin. It looked gross and both you and Levi gave a knowing look, “you missed me.”

In an instant her eyes moved to your body in the scout cape and uniform, she dropped the material squealing as she encased you in a tight hug. You hugged her back, missing her and her craziness, she let go before quickly hitting the back of your head.

“Ow, not again.” You muttered rubbing the back of your head after the torment of Levi.

“I’m glad Levi hit you, I can’t hit you anymore all I see are those cute eyes.” She pulls at your cheeks which seems to be even more painful than the hitting before letting go. “All grown up, I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” The three of you had a catchup on what had occurred, being filled in on Eren’s position and the plan that Erwin had thought up off. But even then, his plan had gaps and you knew he was keeping stuff not from the new recruits but captains and section commanders alike.

Levi took you back to where the recruits were, he left with a small smile, no goodbye as he waved you off whilst walking. Like an animal being shooed away, you chuckled shaking your head as you walked to see Jean and Eren looking angry at one another. “What’d I miss now?”

You had a hop in your step and a bright grin that your friends hadn’t seen ever, “you know captain Levi.” Eren had disregarded your question and was now asking his own.

“Oh yeah I do.” Is all you said, Armin passing you a slice of bed, you had a hunch the food had gone and were glad Hanje had offered you food due to her thinking you hadn’t eaten enough whilst in the cadet corps.

You bit into it, not knowing what else to say, whilst looking down. “Care to elaborate.” Jean spoke out.

“Oh he took me in when my parents died, I’ve been around the survey corps since I was six.” You bit into the bread uninterested in wanting to speak about your background.

“And…” Connie continued on.

“And there’s nothing else about it, Levi and Erwin brought me up that’s basically it.” You stressed the and, throwing the piece of bread you had ripped off up in the air and catching it in your mouth.

“You could’ve told us Y/n.” Eren spoke up, it was what everybody had been thinking but hadn’t had the guts to say.

You look at them, bread stuff in your mouth, swallowing it with ease, “I didn’t think it was important.”

“Important, Y/n it’s who you are you, it’s how you easily beat Mikasa for top spot, how you knew exactly how to use the ODM gear and kill those titans in Trost.” Eren’s anger was either out of spite or jealousy but you didn’t know what.

“Look I worked for that spot and yeah maybe I have been around the scouts longer than you have, but consider my point of view, they raised me and they’re family to me and I thought you guys were my family as well…” you pause staring at each one of them individually, “…clearly I was wrong.”

In an instance you leave the place, trudging up the stairs and leaning against the cold grey bricks. It looked even more uncleaned in person, a habit you’d gotten off Levi. You saw some lights come up towards you, seeing your ‘friends’ with lanterns.

“I’m sorry.” Eren apologised sitting beside you.

You whispered, “it’s okay.” As they all crowded around you, giving sympathetic looks.

“So has Captain Levi always been a clean freak.” Eren questioned trying to ease the tension.

You laugh turning to the boy, “that man is practically in love with bleach and a wet cloth.”

They laugh and the tension disappearing as Eren spoke of his time with the squad and how you all spoke about Trost and the many memories that you all shared together. Levi had come outside to see what the noise was, he saw you surrounded by your friends laughing and joking about.

A quiet whisper coming from his mouth, “I’m glad you made friends Y/n.” A gratitude that you weren’t alone and that you had people around you that would become your team when outside the walls. He knew you’d be safe and that not only had you spent the two years training for the expedition but how someone would always have your back.

 i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

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𝑾𝑯𝑬𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝒀 𝑨𝑪𝑪𝑰𝑫𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑳𝒀 𝑯𝑼𝑹𝑻 𝒀𝑶𝑼

— Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shoto, Todoroki Toya, Kirishima Eijiro x f!reader

cw. mild suggestive — rbs are appreciated — m.list

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

“Stop it brat” he wrinkles his brow as he pins you against the wall, your wrists in his big hand as he tries to lift you onto his shoulder, “I don’t feel like playing, it’s been a long day.”

“I’m tired, please” he says more softly as he walks into the bedroom, and he really is tired. So tired that he takes his measurements wrong and drops you way too much on the edge of the bed.

You wince as you end up on the floor. His eyes snap open before he flops down beside you himself, “shit, baby” he hisses through clenched teeth bringing one hand behind your back to gently stroke you and the other to your head studding your hair with kisses, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

When he pulls you up this time he’s more careful, he sits on the bed with you in his lap, “you okay, baby?” he asks holding you tight, his chin on your head and he’s so cute when he’s not acting like an angry Pomeranian that you pretend it still hurts just to be cuddled a little more.

Keep reading

𝐋𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬

this just popped into my head, and now I will proceed to make it everyone’s problem

includes: Itadori Yuuji, Megumi Fushiguro, Gojou Satoru, Inumaki Toge, Nanami Kento, Junpei Yoshino and Ryomen Sukuna

enjoy my little simps, I hope I have fed you well

❥ {𝐈𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢} in the morning, when the sun was still shining through the window. The golden light illuminating every cute detail on his face. His cheek squished against you. His head; on your chest. His hair; a mess, while your fingers twist, twirl and weed out the knots in his beautiful locks. Not wanting to wake him up, you gently run your other hand down his spine, your fingers leaving goosebumps along his bare back.

❥ {𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨} Megumi loves making breakfast with you. Just cooking breakfast and laughing while repeatedly kissing each other. To anyone else, you both would’ve looked drunk, both giggling and fawning over the other; like lovesick idiots. There would be no need to get fully dressed because after the pancakes finished cooking, you’d be lying on the couch; watching tv, but mostly just cuddling

❥ {𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮} Gojou brought you little foods while in bed, a fruit cup, a little pastry (he probably got it from Safeway) and a glass of fruit juice- it wasn’t much, really. He brushed away the hair on your face, gently kissing your forehead, and placed the tray in front of you. While whispering “good morning love” while moving his lips from your forehead, down to your lips, giving you a soft ‘good morning kiss’ (which he always insists on having).

❥ {𝐈𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞} like every morning with Inumaki, you lay with him in your arms. His back pressed against your lower body, while his head rested on your chest. The shampoo he used (which was strawberry and lavender scented) was the only thing you spelled, as your face pressed into his hair, leaving you in an uncomfortable position- but not wanting to move, you wouldn’t risk waking him up, he’s too cute!

❥ {𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨} Nanami has to leave for work fairly early, so it’s rare that you get mornings like his with him. You woke alone in the bed (per usual), but the smell of freshly cooked food wasn’t something you’re used to. You sauntered over to the kitchen, peaking your head around the corners before you went any farther. There, standing in the kitchen, was Nanami, wearing an apron and cooking breakfast for the both of you.

❥ {𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐞𝐢 𝐘𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐨} Junpei spends most mornings alone, but the day came where he finally had someone to spend his morning with. He woke up to the smell of your hair, with your body pressed against his, your arm draped over his abdomen, while your cheeks pressed into his chest. You looked so comfy; he didn’t dare move. When he first saw you, he did not know that he’d be waking up to the sight of you like this.

❥ {𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚} Sukuna had finally convinced Itadori to let him have the morning with you. You’ll wake up, turn over on your side expecting to face Itadori’s bright smile and cheerful eyes, only to get Sukuna’s devilish smirk and handsome tattoos. Pulling you in, he pushed his face into your neck. Be warned, he may nibble at it, but mostly, he just wants the feeling that he’s the only one who can get close to you like this.

I'm fine lol *screams into pillow*

what would you do if i die?

characters: diluc, xiao, zhongli

genre: fluff, angst, comfort

warnings: nicknames, mentions of death, kinda ooc, lowercase intended, unedited, not proofread

author's note: this is my first time writing for genshin characters, this'll be kinda bad bcs i haven't write in a while :/ and i just played genshin for a month so it'll probably be ooc. but still, i hope you can enjoy reading this!

DILUC

both you and diluc were just strolling around mondstadt with a comfortable silence until you decided to ask the question you've been wanting to ask. "what would you do if i die?" you asked, gaining diluc's attention. you saw him getting surprised from the corner of your eyes. but you stared at him instead, waiting for his answer.

"i'm not answering that question." he replied before walking away from you, leaving you behind. your eyebrows twitched at his response as you follow him along, keeping up your pace to be even with him. "that's not fair, diluc." you huffed, crossing your arms, not sparing a glance at him.

"no, you are not fair. why would you ask something like that? i don't want to lose you, y/n. stop playing around with jokes like that." he argued, his voice coming out harsher than what he had expected. his sudden tone made you surprised. seeing your reactions, diluc sighed and pulled you into a hug.

"i'm sorry for bursting out, but please don't joke around like that."

XIAO

"xiao, what would you do if i die?" you called out. you were currently alone in wangshu inn, waiting for xiao to come. until you decided to call him instead since it seemed like he's not coming anytime soon. right after you asked the question, xiao appeared in front of you.

he looked at you up and down, checking around if there might be something bothering you or if you're hurt anywhere. "well, hi. i was waiting for you." you said, acting like you didn't just ask something so serious. xiao stared at you with his blank face.

"don't ask something like that, i hate it." he muttered, his eyes looking everywhere but you. you smile lightly looking at him. "i'm sorry, love. it was supposed to be a joke, forgive me, yeah?" you whispered, taking one of is hand into yours. "yeah whatever, i got this for you. i struggeled while choosing it, that's why i'm late." he mumbles, giving you a pretty hairpin he bought in liyue earlier.

ZHONGLI

"dear, are you busy?" you peeked through the door of zhongli's office. hearing your voice shifted his attention from his paperworks to you. "hm? i'm not. do you need anything, love?" he asked, his hand motioning for you to come closer. "nothing! i was pretty bored so i decided to come here and look at this— i brought you lunch!"

zhongli smiled looking at you, taking a chair for you to sit beside him. he waited for you to sit on the chair and gave you a kiss once you sit. "thank you darling." he said, opening the lunch box that you've brought for him. you both ate in silence, only having small conversations here and there. until you asked something to break the silence.

"what would you do if i die?" you asked casually. zhongli coughed once you finished your sentence. you hurriedly took a glass of water and hand it to him. "hey, are you okay? i'm sorry, i shouldn't have asked you that kind of question when you're eating." you muttered, slightly embarrased.

once zhongli had calmed down, he hold your hand and caressed your hand with his thumb. "is something bothering you? please tell me." he questioned. "love, it's nothing! it's supposed to be a joke i guess, i'm sorry if i made you worried." you explained. he let out a relieved sigh and gave you a hug.

reblogs or any kind of feeback are appreciated, thank you!

Deku, who is now the number one hero and the symbol of peace, who meets the reader, an ex-villain during his at time at U.A,now she's a simple bartender but she remembers him.

"Oh you're Izuku Midoriya"

"Do I know you..?oh you are-"

Kinda awkward because at first you were to each other's neck, now you're serving him and his friends drinks, but that doesn't stop him to ask you out...

recognition flashes across the face of izuku.

"it's you..." he says, staring at you with wide eyes.

"it's me!" you reply with a smile while mixing a drink.

it's been a while since you've seen izuku midoriya. it was high school, and you found yourself caught up in some morally ambiguous organizations. you didn't plan to become a villian, but there you were, being chased down by the up and coming hero, deku.

since then, you've been through some rigorous villain-rehabilitation programs and are finally on the right track, scoring a steady job bartending and this local bar. past you would have never foreseen this.

but what you couldn't foresee was how goddamn good-looking that dorky hero that was chasing you down all those years ago would turn out to be. yet there he was in front of you, freckled skin and gorgeous green eyes that you could lose yourself in if you weren't careful.

"i-it's nice to see you," he says, nervously fidgeting.

it's cute to see that his boyish shyness never left.

"good to see you too... number one hero," you say teasingly, loving the way his skin turns bright red.

he nervously laughs and rubs the back of his neck, unknowingly showing off his drool-worthy arm muscles.

"yeah, i guess things have changed a bit since i last saw you," he says.

"well, last time you saw me, you were tackling me to the ground and handing me over to the police," you say pointedly.

izuku freezes in embarrassment. you start to feel bad for giving him a hard time, and begin to backtrack.

"it was for the best," you say. "after that, i got some help. and now i have this job and things are looking good."

you can see him let out a shaky breath before gently smiling at you. "that's good to hear."

"yep. it seems that every time our paths cross, you're here to change the direction of my life." you raise an eyebrow. "so... deku... what's it going to be this time?"

it’s fluff friday!

In Life and Death / 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

♡ read the prologue here :D

♡ When everything you know is shrouded in light, it’s often hard to remember to peek into the darkness. Your family has long since been a part of those who avoid it, choosing to hide comfortably amongst the high ranks of Mondstadt’s nobility. Your father, the King, has fought hard to keep it that way, especially following the Queen's unfortunate death. However, with a sudden push from the Fatui, certain old wounds are quickly reopened.

It's why upon tragedy striking, you aren’t alone in the assumption that the foreign nation is to blame. But when unseen circumstances quickly push the question of the culprit's identity over to you, you find that the situation is much deeper than meets the eye. Between the mysterious nature of an unknown killer, familial doubts, and the 11th Harbinger launching himself into the scene by making an attempt on your life, you think you're completely in over your head.

Even if Childe claims you have the picture all wrong.

And so, in a gruesome twist of events, you're faced with a choice -- trust Childe's convenient involvement and get to the bottom of everything together, or risk becoming victims yourselves.

♡ warnings: violence, mentions of choking, blood, and knives.

♡ word count: 7.3k

You had long learned to never trust a man who is no more than his glare, because even the most innocent of dogs will still bear their teeth. And inside the walls of Mondstadt’s gates, this ideology very well may be known to many -- because from the darkened alleyways to busy courtrooms, there will always be those who show more than they are ready to give.

Unfortunately, the same can often be said of the king. 

You are as much of a stranger to his dealings as he is, though the difference in you lies in your capability of being disappointed. The King is extremely lucrative when he can be, handling his power in a way where those around him are left in a constant state of wondering, when will he strike next, and how? The answers are often underwhelming.

Of course, you know better than them. Each side-eyed glance and nuance of a threat is always held, but sometimes you suspect that behind your father's guarded eyes, there's nothing more than a man paralysed with fear. It's why your first reaction is to write him off when you get to thinking about the person you'd lost -- however much you want to blame him for it. His inherent innocence is the entire reason that the concept of a murder on the royal grounds terrifies you so much. 

You hadn't ever been extremely close to the Chamberlain, but news of her death shook you like it would anyone. Because she had been a pleasant young woman, certainly no one that deserved to meet their end in such a way.

This does not mean Mondstadt is crime-free, of course. Pickpockets and murderers alike dwell in the deepest corners and behind closed doors, but none have ever dared to show themselves in such a fashion. Though, a sizable bit of the population in these parts do tend to include fatui agents from outside the nation, perhaps entrenched in the only ways they know how. 

Someone other than the king had dealt a life-ending blow to someone of no consequence -- bearing their teeth, so to say. It was done as if they had known they could get away with it. The offence was haughty, too confident to be considered a crime of the usual degree. Hence, in your opinion, the large possibility of a fatui agent testing the waters.

But with nothing being confirmed, the question of the sudden nature of events remains. And despite the warning bells in your head, despite any disapproval the king may have, you would be better suited trying to uncover the mystery with everyone else than just sitting around. In fact, that's exactly how you managed to see the effects of the situation in the first place.

It was more difficult than usual to sneak around, but upon arriving at the ugly leftover scene under the guise of a maid, you almost change your mind. 

There was no major evidence left behind, no trace of a second person besides a ring of purple around her neck, the indentation of thick fingers settled heavy in her skin. Apparently mere choking had not been enough to subdue the woman, too — the main offender is much more striking.

An injection had ultimately done her in, the pin-prick small but only noticeable thanks to the crystallised blood surrounding the wound. Much like the odd suit of frost covering her skin, it was unusually cold to the touch.

But, you had been discovered and ushered out of the room before you could unearth much more. As much as you’d like to do something with the information you’d snuck by, other clues are not so readily available. You'd expected as much, but to be shunned so quickly? It was almost too odd to overlook the convenience of it.

Left with nothing to process, you are steadfast in your blaming of the foreign Snezhnayan officers. But whether any truly useful information exists or not, you hadn't been allowed around long enough to find out. 

Grave events such as this one are debilitating, they shake normal life in a way usual events do not. But just as the king is well aware of the fear that envelops the royal court, he is also in tune with the mechanics of the city he rules. He will take all means necessary to confine the circumstances, to avoid pressure from Snezhnayan diplomats if nothing else. 

 So, you know well that the lack of information provided is entirely intentional.

The Chamberlain's death had occurred three whole days ago, and you still haven't heard a thing. Not even the town gossips are aware of the turmoil that drenches the castle, and the maids are equally tight-lipped. 

Tapping a pen against the mahogany of the wooden desk, you sigh. The writer’s callus on your dominant hand is tinged with blue ink, darker in the low light of the library only you populate. The usually bustling halls have been noticeably empty within the past few days. However, it is a good side effect -- with less to see your actions, the more freedom to investigate you are given. 

Though, any so-called ‘investigations’ you’ve completed thus far have been nothing more than quick brainstorming sessions, wherein the same vague points are turned over and over again in your head. Sighing at the blank sheet of paper in front of you, you slump in your seat. 

It frustrates you to know that in these moments, you are often royalty in title alone. You are a woman of title, a person of royal blood, are you not? Yet, because of a single wave of the king’s hand, you are kept in the dark just as every courtier and servant is, inevitably leaving one amongst you vulnerable to repeat the same unfortunate mistakes the chamberlain had. 

However, you are not a courtier. Not a servant. So, why dangle such information above your head, why withhold any greater power your status holds? The reason, your father will likely never share, but your lack of knowledge in any event is undoubtedly purposeful

It may just be for your protection, though his intentions are never so simple; he thinks like a king, not a father. 

But, albeit his strange tendencies, bits and pieces of the father you want to see remain in every stroke of his lacquered pen. He is the puppet behind only your menial troubles, and it would be unfair to pin much more than a daughter’s bitterness on him. Perhaps this is just his out of touch way of protecting you -- like you need it.

“My lady,”

A soft yet firm voice bids for your attention. There is an immediate regret that blooms in your chest as you stand up abruptly, feet pushing you out of your chair only to meet the patient eyes of a maid. You offer her an apologetic smile as you will your heart to slow.

It’s not your place to be jumpy, not when there are those who work soundlessly to ensure your protection.

Perhaps they’re a bit too soundless, though. 

“My apologies.” The old woman bows her head slightly, leaning a careful hand on your shoulder. “You startle very easily lately, are you feeling well?”

You nod, gaze anywhere but her as you search for an escape. “Yes, yes, of course. Just nervous, is all.”

The maid watches you as you gather your things, eyes lingering a moment too long on the shaking hands you fail to conceal. You clutch the notebook and pen to your chest, offering her an awkward smile.

“Everything will be alright,” She assures you, gesturing to the rest of the empty library. “Extreme measures are being taken to protect anyone else in the castle from succumbing to a similar fate.”

As you nod wordlessly, the calmness in her voice does not dissipate. You feel almost scrutinised under her polished gaze — it is gentle, but concerned nonetheless. Your fears are merely surface level affairs to the familiar woman, despite how deeply you attempt to hide them. 

Offering her a nod as you duck past her, you mumble a quiet goodbye. The maid’s eyes remain stuck to your back as you begin to walk away, patient.

“I had tea prepared not long ago.” You stop at the doorway, hand coming up to ghost over the wooden frame as your head turns back. The same unwavering smile adorns your sight. “Enjoy your night, my lady.”

You respond with a quick smile, fastening your grip on your belongings as you hurry from the room. The particular woman’s kindness truly runs deep, though you can’t help the discomfort you experience under her weighted gaze -- she studies you as if you are translucent, hungry eyes searching for fears to quell.

As your shoes click on the hard floor, you grimace. Of course, her intentions are nothing more than those of a dedicated caretaker, and guilt pokes at your inside unnervingly for pushing her innocent concern off. There is a part of you that wants to confide in someone, whether it is a maid or someone entirely different -- but, for reasons unknown to even you, it’s not something you’re willing to do. 

On your worst days, you fear someone will attempt to face your emotions head-on, regardless of your wishes. And while such a person is bound to appear, it’s instances like these that you learn to stave off those indulgent enough to get too close. It is only practical, after all, as a member of the royal family to keep your troubles close.

Your mother had been a wonderful example of what compassion could do to someone of your status. Evident in every generation, in every string of events, there will always be someone looking to take advantage of such raw trust. So, while cowardly, it is a caution that no one can fault you for.

It is a truly vile way of thinking, yet in this walk of life, it is unfortunately necessary.

You have long stopped wondering what others think of your fears, though simultaneously, you have recently found it harder to maintain a cooler composure. No action seems just right, no demeanour enough to please everyone. Your honest desperation is heartbreakingly truthful, and you can only hope it's enough to excuse the way you act. 

The low evening sun passes over your face through the windows of the hall, decorating your body in an array of warmth. And whether the world sees fit to tease you or not, you don’t mistake the oddly timed shiver that runs through your body. Shaking your head, you wish tiredly for nothing more than everything to be over. 

The crystalline doorknob to your personal chambers is slippery beneath your clammy grip, exhaustion seeping through your veins as you stand there without luck. The tiny inconvenience tests your patience extremely closely. Luckily, the halls are empty around you, void of anything but yourself and guards stationed some ways away. 

Offhandedly, you wonder if you could get away with sneaking off. Perhaps it’s an action you may need to take eventually, but with the steady droop of your eyelids, you surmise it can wait. Even your tired mind can discern that there is little you can do in your state.

Moments later, you find yourself sitting on your bed, the tricky doorknob locked shut behind you. You have little desire to do anything but to crawl under your covers and move on to the next day. But, the commentary-scribbled notebook still weighs lightly in your hand. 

With a narrowed gaze, you consider stuffing it into your pillow case -- what could be a better hiding place than directly beneath you? Your eyes are heavy as you carry out the action. The process isn’t meticulous by any means, but you decide it will work well enough for now. 

Still in your day clothes, you let your body fall on top of the comforter. You’re briefly freed of your anxieties as you will your mind to go blank. You forget about the murder, about your deathly curiosity, even about the mug of tea that continues to go cold on your nightside table.  

Your worries may encompass dire things, they may not. But at the end of the day, they can only be worries.

“I don’t understand.”

The spring air is sweet in your nose, but for all that it’s worth, it’s easily outshined by the distinctly rotten taste that grows in your mouth. Mornings in the castle are usually filled by the former; golden sunlight within the deserted halls, the chirping of bluebirds heard from beyond the cracked windows, bowls of fresh fruit carried by passing servants -- but today, you find these peaceful things to be stifled.

You’d been called on during the early hours of the morning, long before you normally even rise. Perhaps it was a precautionary action, perhaps the particular subject just made your father restless, yet in any case, the first hour of your day is spent moderately.

“This is by no means a complicated thing to ask of you.” Your father says this, and while he may be right, he should be one of the last to consider giving you such an order.

You shake your head slowly, trying not to let your distress shine through. “No, it’s not, but it’s not necessary, is it? Someone is dead. I’m only expressing discomfort in my own way.”

“...Your coping mechanisms seem awfully dangerous.”

Avoiding his eye, you yawn into the back of your hand. Call it what you like, but coping mechanism be damned if it’s the one thing that makes you feel secure living as you do. 

“I don’t see how trying to figure out what happened is dangerous,” You say, taking in your father’s demeanour. It’s an early morning for him as well, but you know better than to push his limits on purpose. “Please. It’s only a personal reassurement. I’ll be sure not to take it too far.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not concerned about you taking things too far, because I know you’ll do that regardless of what we agree on today.”

You’re silent at that.

“I just don’t need you getting hurt because someone chooses to see you as a threat, not when there are more capable people to be assessing this situation.”

Your lips and patience both simultaneously thin. “If there are more capable people available, then where are they? I would be more than happy to hand things over to them.”

Your father’s head tilts slightly, voice raising an octave or so. “I'm in the process of gathering help. Are you questioning me?"

Dread begins to ferment in your stomach as you shake your head, words heavy in your mouth. “No. I only urge you to take this more seriously. I think it would be the better choice, knowing what has happened when we let our guard down in the past.”

His eyes narrow as you turn your head away, avoiding his eye as casually as possible even while your heart thumps loudly in your chest. There is not a day that goes by wherein your father does not honour your late mother in some way. But, you do not understand the reason he chooses to push aside an event so similar to the one that has affected him so greatly now.

“I recommend that you visit the tavern this afternoon.” If your jab has ignited anything in him, it’s lost in the moment he turns to take a thin binder into his hand. You accept it warily as he continues. “The sister celebrations are quickly approaching. Despite the unfortunate events that have taken place recently, we must prepare as if on a normal schedule."

You quirk a curious brow. “Aren’t we on one already?”

“Yes, as of now.” Your father sizes up your expression before hesitantly continuing. “But, if things do get worse, I’m afraid we might have to postpone the events.”

Eyes widening, you stand up.

“There’s such a thing on the line, and still no one is investigating anything yet?!”

He says your name in a tone of warning, voice stern. “I'm handling it, but you must understand that there is not much to work with. I’m sure you know this as well.”

You try to meet his eyes, but they never quite meet yours; they follow his actions behind his desk, your fidgeting, but never anything else. You do not take it as a truthful promise, yet under his attention, all you can do is nod and believe that he will do as he says -- hope that he will listen to the concerns of the only family he has left. 

You move to leave, keeping careful note of the binder in your hand as you grumble a muffled goodbye. You can only guess its contents, but aren’t too keen on stopping to read it under the stifling atmosphere you’ve created. At the door, you pause as he calls your name. 

“Do not mention your mother to me again.”

His words settle with you as you disappear into the morning haze, the inkling of a frown pushing at your lips. The King had said that he was in the process of gathering help, but given his past, you aren't too inclined to believe him.

The conversation gets you thinking -- in the reality that he does end up finding someone to handle the situation, would you give up so easily? You aren't quite sure you know the answer. Especially not if the sister celebrations are in jeopardy.

It's why, when the afternoon comes, you are more than willing to pay the tavern a visit. As you’d discovered on your meandering walk back to your chambers, the binder your father had handed you is composed of nothing but numbers -- all necessary information for the numerous courses set to be available at the day of Ludi Harpastum and its most beloved partner, titled Dies Luctus.

A commemorative event by title alone, Dies Luctus is a masquerade that takes place yearly that exists to pay respects to those who have passed -- though in recent years, it has become more of a prologue for later festivities to the unseasoned eye.

Small details here and there exist to remind you of its history, in the dark masks that are given to attending patrons, or the waves of silence that occasionally pass over the crowd, even the single flowers provided as offerings to those who have lost someone. The most menacing of these signs, however, remains to be the empty throne at the king’s side. 

Your hands are clammy as you trek to the tavern. Be it a masquerade or a way to respect the dead, you will sooner be a part of those honoured than let a petty murder be the reason the world is not reminded of your mother’s existence once again. 

Angel’s Share’s bell chimes from high above as you enter, but no one looks in your direction even as the door slams shut behind you -- at least, save for the bartender. Trained vermillion eyes find yours in an instant, surprise melting through the depths as he beckons you over with the rag in his hand.

You can’t help your smile as you slip onto the stool in front of him.

The bar is polished finely, though maybe even more so than usual due to the presence of Master Diluc. His appearance at the bar is rare these days because of the looming dates of Dies Luctus and Ludi Harpastum -- but since the unfortunate passing of his father five years ago, the responsibility of coordinating the technicalities of the two events has since been passed to him. 

You know firsthand that it’s a lot of work, but there is no one you feel safer leaving the job to than the man in front of you. He has proved time and time again that he is steadfast in all he does. 

“Look who’s finally decided to show themselves.” Diluc nearly puts down the glass that he’s cleaning to ridicule you, a sure sign of his irritation. “I’d almost forgotten what you look like.”

Exhaling a light laugh, you shrug. “You know it’s busy up there. I barely have time for myself anymore, much less to come here.”

He shakes his head as if the explanation is so-so.

“You were never bad at sneaking out here before.” He quirks a brow, trading in the dry glass for another. 

“That was before someone was murdered in the place I’m sneaking out from.” You point out, taking gratification in the way Diluc lets out a resigned sigh. “Of course, it hindered me a bit.”

You place the notebook on the counter as you speak, not missing the way Diluc’s eyes land on it briefly.

“Right.” He nods thoughtfully, lips thinning. “I hope you’re doing well. In that case, it’s better to stay where you can’t be hurt.”

“Glad I have your approval.” You nod, eyes trailing back to the menu board behind him. There is a good reason why the Dawn Winery is widely regarded as the finest winery in Teyvat -- Angel’s Share’s menu has remained consistent with classic favourites that have served multiple generations well. 

“Here,” He nudges your usual order to you, and in a haze, you realise you must have spaced out. Mumbling a soft apology, you take the cold glass in your hands. 

Diluc releases a quiet sigh, nudging the notebook with his knuckle. “Is something wrong? Do you need my help?”

“Kind of.” You admit, shrugging. He opens the binder with a curious hand. “It’s the catering needed for the sister celebrations coming up. It was given to me this morning.”

Diluc skims the pages silently, but you get the feeling he’d finished doing so long beforehand. He has always been so reserved, so thoughtful, even when you were children. His perseverance after the death of his father was something that you could never accomplish on your side of things, not even with time. Even as you stumbled behind, he grew capable -- capable of returning to see that you went in step with him, to the end. 

“I… had assumed the festivities would be postponed at the very least, concerning the recent events.” He admits, eyes flickering up to meet yours. “Is that not the case?”

“What?” You scoff, gesturing to the book. “Of course not. The king probably gave me that to deliver because he’s sure to have a solution by the time it comes around. He wouldn’t dare miss it.”

“Do you believe that?”

It’s a harmless question with a simple answer, but it stops you short. To see Diluc, such a powerful man, so unsure sometimes leaves your hopes exceedingly low. You train your eyes on the wall of alcohol behind him in hopes that he will not notice your hesitance. 

“...Fine. I don’t know what you’ve been told,” Continuing quietly, you’re suddenly acutely aware of the patrons near you. “I know that the longer it’s covered up, the worse it will get. But the issue will be gone by the time Dies Luctus starts, even if I have to make sure of it myself.”

“We’ve had problems before, but we’ve never missed it. And we won’t this time either.”

Diluc nods silently, your unspoken message reaching him clearly. Since your mother, the queen’s, murder almost six years ago, you have not once missed Dies Luctus -- the event is a memorial for the dead, but it is much more to you. Out of the three hundred and sixty five days a year, it is the only one your father will ever acknowledge that the queen is gone. 

“Then I’ll do what I can to help.” Diluc leans down on the counter on one elbow, all so that he can come closer to your face. It’s as if he believes your distance will affect how clearly you remember his threatening concern. “You need to tell me if anything else happens, okay?”

You can’t help a smile, leaning back. “So you will accept my request this time, Master Diluc?”

He shakes his head, fighting a smile. The jab of sudden formality is something that you will never let go of, even if he refuses to use your own title in return.

“I hope I won’t have to.”

You fear many things. darkness, the unspeakable acts spoken of in rumours that reach the castle’s halls, occasionally you even let your imagination fill in the blanks -- but not even the stormiest nights can compare to the dread that ferments deep in your bones in this moment. 

A cold sweat breaks out over your neck as you lay still, waiting, praying for the movement outside your door to still. There are two guards stationed outside your door on a typical night, and you have learned their schedules and how to recognise their gaits gradually over the hours of sleepless nights. Such an abundance of interruption is definitely rare. 

They are ordered to stay still so as not to disturb you, but the sounds that reach your ear are distinctly unnatural, and unnervingly close. Surely, you're just paranoid. You can only hope.

The curtains are drawn halfway shut across the room, letting the only source of light in through tiny gaps and slivers. It paints a suspenseful image as muffled noises come to a stuttering stop outside your door. Your breath catches as you’re shocked back into attention by a large thump against the wood. Abruptly, you sit up, clutching the sheets in a grip that has your knuckles turning white. Something is wrong.

Suddenly, someone steps carefully into your room. You eye the man warily. Because your guards rotate in shifts that change in the early morning, you cannot recall ever seeing the faces of the men who guard you while you rest. 

Breath stumbling, you ask, “…What’s going on?”

The guard shakes his head silently, face hidden beneath the haze of the night that blankets the room. You swallow thickly.

“You aren’t my guard, are you?” You say quietly.

A thousand thoughts run through your head. Is this perhaps your karma for pursuing the killer? It may only be your luck that has brought them to you, a harbinger of death is certainly a disposition that would find you eventually. But no amount of self pity or regret could overtake the fear that seizes you. 

“Clever.” When the fake finally responds, his voice is deeper than you had expected it to be. “I was told that you weren’t able to recognise your guards. Though, I presume that isn’t completely true, am I right, Your Highness?”

The man is quick and virtually soundless as he crosses the floor, all but for the way his boots occasionally clink together. Your heart sinks as his supposed plan comes together in your head.

“Don’t.” You order him sternly, putting out a shaking palm that betrays your voice. “How- how close do you think my other guards are?  I presume you weren’t told how quick their rounds are?”

It’s a complete and utter lie — no matter how close any patrolling guards are, the ones you mention are hours away from arriving. But you notice it when his body stills for a moment anyway. In slight panic, you throw your covers back and stand in a helpless attempt to gain leverage. 

“Don’t move.” He warns, putting out an empty hand. “You have the choice to make this a lot easier for the both of us.”

You scoff quietly, the sound broken. “...And let you kill me?”

You frown, trembling hand reaching for the abandoned cup of tea on the nightstand with a vengeance. But the man follows your movements too quickly, coming close and tearing the ceramic from your grip. The cold liquid splashes harmlessly back onto him.

He is faster than you in every sense. The late hour muddles more than just your mind, leaving ample opportunity for his hand to wrap around your collar and bring you closer. You half expect to see a creature of nightmares -- a mangled face, soulless eyes, but instead you’re met with the blank canvas of a black masquerade mask. Not even his eyes are visible through the tiny gaps. 

The cold edge of his knife presses into the skin of your neck, the same wide hand pulling your back to his chest. Your eyes grow wide at what little patience the man seems to have. 

“...Who are you?” You breathe, grimacing as the blade presses farther into your skin. It’s cleverly positioned, deep enough to draw blood yet still shallow enough to lift most of the pressure from your voice. No words pass between you as he looks over you from the depths of his mask, silent and patient. 

“Did you take the chamberlain’s life like this, too?” You choke, gasping for air as you begin to feel the gash on your neck slide open further with each word. “Or were you kinder to her?”

A small groan of pain leaves your mouth hanging open as he jolts the metal -- it’s not enough to hurt you a large amount, but it quiets you nonetheless. You wince when he says, 

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ve killed no one yet.” He says, breath hot against your ear. “You should worry about yourself.”

Unwelcome shock ripples through your chest. Of course, he must be bluffing, but you can’t quiet your mind long enough to focus on the implications of his words. It’s fairly obvious due to the burlesque way he holds onto you, but you suspect if the man put any amount of his normal strength forward, you would stand no chance. 

Brashly, you hiss, “Are you dragging this out on purpose?”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he speaks. “Only if you’d like me to, Princess.”

“…You say pointless things.” You grumble, trembling hand shooting up to latch onto his clothed wrist. Most of your willpower goes into keeping your voice still, but any semblance of control you attempt to fake is lost on your body. Though, he pays no mind to you. 

You’re even almost certain he mirrors your look of irritation as he finally dares to make a calculated slash across your neck. Gasping in pain, your legs falter. It is exceedingly thin, barely noticeable for all but the way you bleed. The wound that opens across your neck meets the cold air all too fast, hot blood ghosting across the mess of hands at your collar.

He seems to think his warning will convince you to secede. 

Hesitantly, you speak, nearly gagging at the sensation of blood that drags down your throat. “Do you enjoy holding my life in your hands?”

Your captor doesn’t respond, circling you to your front cautiously. He keeps the knife to your throat as a precaution before finally allowing the mask he wears to slip over the bridge of his nose. Chilling blue eyes stare back at you, clean and free of emotion. For a moment, these eyes seem hauntingly familiar -- but you force yourself to quit dwelling on the man that holds a knife to your throat. 

“And if I do?”

The challenging words ignite a sense of desperation in you. You have little ability to fight back, fearing your delicate wound opening into something more; your blood already makes a mess of anything it can reach, and you doubt you can withstand it for much longer. 

“Then,” You’re breathing heavily as his eyes narrow. “Try your best.”

You had first learned how to hold a dagger beneath the shade of a grapevine on your thirteenth birthday -- it had been a drab thing, metal worn and rusted from years of disuse. Yet, Diluc had sworn to you that it was as good as any. With his skills, maybe that was true, but as you took the handle like you would a kitchen knife, you knew immediately that you would have a different experience. 

The concept was at first no more than a way to have fun, intended for an impossibly different future. Though, you’ve always had a sneaking suspicion that Diluc took his role as a teacher seriously -- he almost embodied the position as he guided you, solidifying your once meagre skills.

Then Diluc received a vision. 

Pyro and matching his once upbeat personality, the fifteen year old that had received it was delighted. Quickly, he lost the need to know how to throw a knife, and how to utelise it as an effective weapon. He had many other things at his disposal that were much more interesting, after all. 

And yet, he stayed with you. He continued to teach you everything he knew, even as he began to forget it himself. You make a mental note to never admit that you’re the same, that most of his words from back then are lost to time. But, as frustrated tears well up in your eyes, you’re suddenly unsure if you’ll ever get the opportunity to see him again. 

Because in truth, you are more human than you give yourself credit for. You pale in the face of danger just as anyone else would, losing your reason just as fast as you may lose your blood -- but the difference in you, is that you will seldom let people say they have bested you. 

With a staggering breath, you back away suddenly, wincing at the slight grit of metal releasing skin as you move. There are no easy countermeasures to take, no hidden weapons tucked away for situations like these. The man points his weapon at you easily, threats materialising in his gaze as he takes a step forward. You take a step back in return.

“If you come quietly, I’ll make it hurt less”

The same dreaded pattern continues until the back of your knees hit the bed.

“And if I don’t? You’ve had ample opportunity to take my life, and yet you haven’t.” You say bitterly, hiding the way your hands shake behind your back. The knife he holds still shines red with the tint of your blood. “If you’re trying to hold me for ransom, I’d save your breath.”

He seems amused, but there’s a flicker of genuine interest over his face. Thumbing the knife in his grip, he asks quietly,

“And why is that, Your Highness?”

You don’t respond. Turning quickly to slip the notebook from beneath your pillow, the weighted canvas is heavy in your hand. His eyes widen as you swing it over him directly, and though it misses the target you had intended, you’re able to knock the dagger from his unsuspecting hands. 

But, you’re too sloppy as you dive for it. The man catches up to you easily, taking the window you struggle to pull you back into his chest as the knife clatters to the floor. You cry out as he forces your neck upwards, tears rushing to your eyes.

“Not so fast.'' He clenches his jaw, grip tightening over your throat as tears rush to your eyes. “I’ve heard how good you are with a knife.”

Fighting the darkness that threatens to invade your vision, you croak and claw at his arms. “If- if you didn’t kill the chamberlain, why are you here?”

“Cooperate, then I'll tell you.” The man grits. You let out a desperate groan.

In a hopeless attempt to gain leverage, you jump – he’d made the easy mistake of letting your feet touch the ground, giving your flailing limbs enough time to push into him. The nauseating sound of bone hitting bone suddenly resounds in the quiet room, though it’s moderately covered by the obstinate curses of the man behind you. He releases his grip on you reflexively. Coughing furiously, you shove your weight back into him with all of your might.

When he staggers, you take the opportunity to tackle him down, forcing your weight on top of him before he can counter. Now, as your legs straddle him, you hold the knife to his throat with one hand, the other holding one of his arms above his head.

Your captor’s body is completely relaxed, and though you know it’s a plot to get under your skin, it still scares you. 

“Name your price,” You rasp, voice still weak from being briefly cut off. “Or I’ll kill you myself.”

The man says nothing, hair mussed and breathing heavy. His reason for breaking in must be so clouded that it blinds his own reasoning. In your mutual struggle, his mask has started to slip further beneath his eyes, though it saddens you slightly to know you have no free hand to reveal the man’s identity completely.

Your jaw locks as you push the blade into his skin. It catches you off guard when you notice his face shifting into an incredulous smile.

“I would never take the money of a fake King."

You push him into the ground, taking note of the way he grunts in response. “Be quiet.”

The man’s short laugh splits the air, the beginning of a bruise blooming on the underside of his chin. 

A beat of uncomfortable silence passes between you. But, before the man can goad you any further, a shaking hand brings the knife away from his throat. In the most simple way, your thoughts are a jumble of wires – the shells of countless new plans that will never be anything more than inklings. 

Consequently, you barely think anything of it when you decide to turn away, nothing more guiding your panicked aim than your wildly beating heart. 

Even the man below you seems confused at your thought process. But as soon as the decorative vase sitting by the door shatters over the hard tile, he is competent enough to know that despite your compromising position, you are the only one of you who believes that you are fighting for your life. 

You half expect the noise to set him off. But, the incoming danger does nothing more than make him attempt to break away from you. 

You shout for anyone nearby before mustering the courage necessary to push him further into the tiled floor, cementing your palm into the nook of his wrists until he grimaces. A glimmer of something close to understanding rushes through his eyes.

“If you wanted to be close to me so bad, you could’ve said so.” He teases, though the fear in his voice is raw. It almost manages to catch you off guard.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you.” You spit, voice shaking as he attempts to fight back. Though you want to pride yourself in your ability to keep him down, something seems suspicious about it --  he had no problem overpowering you before, so a simple change in position shouldn’t be as important.

By now, you’ve certainly noticed the cerulean vision strapped to his hip, signifying his power threshold. Though, you’re unsure of whether his disuse of it frightens or relieves you more – he has certainly only been delaying the inevitable, but why?

It’s as if something had flipped in his mind. He’d certainly thought of something in his time since entering the room, but whether it was previous plans or an entirely new one, you don’t know.

Swallowing your doubts, you push more of your weight onto his arms. The man grunts.

“I don’t know what you want,” You breathe, force evident in your voice. “But you won’t get it.”

He conveniently manages to break out of your grip just as the door to your chambers slams open, a group of masked guards rushing in unhindered. You fall back onto the ground hard. But, as the man searches for a viable route of escape, one of the braver guards rushes forward to your side and yanks you out of harm’s way.

In their grip, you’re nothing but a bag of bones being strung along, stunned into silence. 

The criminal’s mask has since been adjusted back to its normal position, and yet, you still feel the depths of his sheathed gaze when it finds yours. A frown is evident on his face. 

“You’re going to regret this.” He speaks to you as if you’re still the only two in the room, focus inconveniently centred even as the guards in front of you begin to crowd him. A heavy hand comes up to ghost over the afflictions on your neck. The pain is fresh, blood adorning the shallow slit as well as a tightness that rests in the skin he had grabbed you. It will likely bruise. 

But, you can’t find it in you to take pleasure in the way that he fends off the guards – he seems a decent match for them, an excellent fighter in his own right, but he plays the same wretched game and only you are aware of it. The man’s punches are too sloppy to be natural, his footwork too elementary to belong to someone who had quietly replaced a guard without issue. 

Much to your chagrin, he’s soon placed in handcuffs. A jumble of threats courses through the room on the account of both parties. Though, you have to admit: however fake they may be, the man’s promises are certainly creative. 

But most of all, you take great pleasure in seeing the guards at last pull back his mask, revealing his face to the full extent.

You gut twists as stunning sapphire eyes meet yours in full capacity for the first time. You can’t help but shudder at the sense of familiarity his appearance lends you, despite his plain clothes and foul mouth. Even more surprising, though, is the way he immediately seems to recognise your train of thought – his gaze cuts deep into you even without the handicap of a physical blade.

However, the words he attempts to convey are lost on you. And rather than feel dejected, you find comfort in your inability to understand. Because when you see the scratches up his arms, and the bruise that blooms dark on his chin, you don’t let yourself forget that in the end, he has lost. 

He merely lets himself be pulled upright. Even if his eyes allude to pain, the man makes no effort to resist, nor to even elaborate as his form disappears beyond the doorway. He leaves almost entirely unscathed as you stand rigid in the scrapping he’d left behind.

You release a throaty cough, finally allowing yourself to sit up straighter from your tense position on the floor. There is very little you can do beyond touch the skin on your neck gingerly as the silence of the night begins to fade in. 

It’s only now that you notice the guard that had originally caught you has hung back, silently waiting for the right moment to act -- a patient approach, but unfortunately, not a helpful one. Your lips thin in a strained frown as tears finally begin to spill over your cheeks. 

The knight reaches out an armoured hand, concerned but mechanical -- this is merely his duty, not his want. You turn it down shakily, reeling back from his worry even if you want nothing more than for someone to be brave enough to look past your fear. 

“My lady--”

“Find Master Diluc. Now.” You choke out, gaze turning on him as you stand shakily. “I- I will make my way to the infirmary--”

They reach out a hand once again, but this time, when you see it coming, you freeze. 

The floor is hard against your body, and so, so unbearably real. You are not the farthest from death that you’ve ever been, but remembering the feeling of cool steel against your skin, you can’t help but wonder if it was closest. The gravity of the situation hits you all at once as the adrenaline drains from your blood.

The guard’s voice is distant as a mindful hand finally makes the jump to support you. Yet, as you choke on blood that you can’t touch, as desperation rises to your eyes, you realise you don’t have it in you to respond. You can do nothing but turn your painful gaze on them before you come so close to losing everything once again.

© tartaglicious 2022, please do not repost