Hi! Saw Your Bio. Do U Have A Masterlist? :D

WHEN YOU'RE MAD AND USE THEIR FULL NAME

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you're mad and use their full name

pairings: isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro and itoshi sae x gn!reader (separate) | warnings: little arguments, angst if u squint, reader is kinda hot headed? lol, mostly fluff and the boys wanting to be in your good graces.

notes: did i kick depression in the ass to finish this? not really. but it worked, and here i am! this is my nagi seishiro debut omgggg hopefully i did him justice and he's not too ooc. also new design for the scenarios to match my theme. enjoy, lovelies! let me know if you'd like especific scenarios and send me an ask :)

masterlist

ISAGI YOICHI

yoichi hoped he would die. 

really. 

it’s the least he deserved for making you angry — even more so because he didn’t know what made you angry in the first place. he spent the last fifteen minutes excavating his mind to try and remember what could have ticked you off so much that you don’t even wanna look at him.

he hates it. isagi needs your eyes on him, needs to hear your voice and touch your skin. and with the way you’re so silent and distant, he might be just like a man in the desert without water.

“baby,” he looked at you on the other end of the couch, intently watching the tv show in front of you.  just a glimpse would make him breathe again. just a nod would ease his nerves. hell, he would even take a glare, as long as you were looking at him.

but he got nothing. zero. nada.

“baby, please,” he tried again. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you mad.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, but still didn’t spare him a glance. he sighed.

“i’ll never do it agai—”

“do you even know why you’re apologizing, isagi yoichi?!” you asked, exasperated. your boyfriend froze on the spot when hearing his full name, because of course he didn’t. 

as far as he knew, you were having a great day together. he bought you breakfast from your favorite bakery, you made a delicious lunch and then you two went out shopping. he even gifted you with a beautiful necklace after an enthusiastic shop employee offered to show him some pieces—

oh.

“you got jealous of the saleswoman?”

“blah blah you got jealous of the saleswoman? heck yeah I did!” you impersonated him with a high pitched, sarcastic voice that showed just how mad you were. “she was all over you, yoichi, and you didn’t do anything!” 

he swallowed thickly, daring to approach you on the couch. he hugged your frame, despite the crossed arms in front of your chest making it a little hard.

“i’m sorry, darling. i didn’t even notice she was being inappropriate because you’re the only one i pay attention to. and i always figured people would never dare be so bold if you’re by my side and we’re clearly together.”

his sweet words coated you, making you glance away, knowing that looking at his puppy eyes would end you for good. 

“you should have done something anyway.”

“i know. i totally should, and i’m sorry i didn’t. i never meant to make you feel bad or let people disrespect you.” he rested his chin on your shoulder, breath shuddering right on your ear.

the sincerity in his voice was enough to chip away your anger, and you visibly relaxed in his embrace. yoichi held a breath of relief, knowing he still had to be careful.

“i’m sorry, baby. it won’t happen again. forgive me, please?” he placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, and god, how could you keep being mad like that?

damn isagi yoichi and his genuine blue eyes.

you uncrossed your arms, embracing his instead, and finally looked at him with love again.

“fine. but just because you’re so charming, ‘ichi.”

he chuckled. “you’re the charming one. i’m totally under your spell, darling.”

and when your lips met, yoichi hoped to keep living just to have more of you.

NAGI SEISHIRO

people would often ask him if his detached, nonchalant persona ever got in his way through his life. seishiro would always say no, because everything and everyone he did care about understood his lazy way and inability to do… pretty much everything.

that didn’t mean he never made the effort, though. as much as nagi liked to live like a sloth and just go on with his life playing video games, there were still things in his life that were worth it. like football. his friends. and you, of course. 

ever since you met, seishiro discovered that being with you wasn’t a bother. and after he fell in love and you became a couple, he found himself eager to indulge you, even if it meant going out of his way. his friends congratulated him and expressed genuine happiness to see how much he improved, and that, along with your beautiful smile, filled his heart with joy. 

however, no matter how much he tried, he was still…

“nagi seishiro.” 

a shiver ran down his spine with the sound of your voice, and not the good kind. he had never heard you sound so stern, so angry, so… disappointed, even. enough to leave a sour taste in his mouth. so much so he immediately lifted his eyes from his console, only to find your harsh gaze.

“ehh? wha’ did i do, angel? don’t say my name like that,” he pouted, crawling towards your body splayed on the bed. 

even when you tried to fight his embrace, nagi took advantage of his large frame to engulf you and lay his head on your chest, so you wouldn’t walk away in case you got any angrier.

“babeeeee,” he whined, hugging you tighter.

“let go of me,” you said, and he just shook his head. “you deserve it. you weren’t even listening to what i was saying, were you?”

what a hassle. he really wasn’t listening, but… well, he got way too focused on beating the last boss. could you really blame him? 

he heard you scoff. “oh, my bad, i should have known it was the last boss. it’s more important than me anyway, right, nagi?”

fuck. fuck. fuck. did he say that out loud? he sounded like a dick. you had every right to be mad and call him by his full or last name. 

nagi lifted his head from your chest to look at you, feeling his throat tighten with the sight of your teary eyes. guilt gnawed at his chest when seeing how upset and frustrated you were. 

“eh, ’m sorry, pretty thing. i got too caught up ‘n didn’t notice you were talking t’me.”

“am i that invisible to you?” a tear almost rolled down your cheek. seishiro shook his head, a little more exasperated than usual. 

“huh? ’f course not, angel. y’re never invisible. all i see is you. y’re the most important to me,” he held eye contact, and even though you wanted to tear your gaze away, seishiro’s eyes were more magnetizing than ever, even if your view was a little blurry.

you knew your boyfriend wasn’t the type to lie, since he always claimed it was a hassle. you knew you were important to him, but his lack of consideration still hurt. 

“i’ll apologize as many times as you wish. ‘m sorry for not listening and making you feel bad. i never wan’ you to feel bad, pretty thing.” 

nagi used his strength to roll around and switch your positions, in a way you were on top of him instead. he started caressing your hair in a soothing motion, making your eyelashes flutter. “y’can talk as much as you want. i promise i’ll listen t’you.”

your eyes welled with tears for a different reason, and you hugged the striker as hard as you could. even if he faltered, seishiro never failed to make up to you and make you feel loved.

“promise, sei?”

“promise.”

ITOSHI SAE

although sae wasn’t exactly smart in the emotions field, he always knew when you weren’t happy with something. you scowled, huffed and rolled your eyes, keeping an eerie silence that was only broken when absolutely necessary. 

at that moment, he was sure you weren’t happy with him.

you both kept to yourselves while still at the event, masquerading any problems for the cameras. sae had a hand at the small of your back and he could feel how stiff you were. the midfielder wouldn't admit that seeing you so uncomfortable around him made his heart pang.

at the limo, the path to your shared penthouse was quiet, and you brushed him off when he tried to hold your hand. sae could only stare at his window with furrowed brows, itching to dissipate this awkward atmosphere. he never liked when you were mad, especially at him.

he expected some sort of explosion when you got to your apartment, but you kept your glaze off him, trying to walk to the bedroom for your night routine without even sparing him a word. 

nuh-uh. that wouldn’t do. 

he held your wrist before you could go, and lightly pulled you so that you were facing him. your eyes widened with the sudden movement, but narrowed as soon as landed on his face. 

“why are you mad?”

you scoffed. the audacity of this man. 

“you know exactly why i’m mad, itoshi sae.”

shit, the government name? you were really fucking angry.

“i wouldn’t be asking if i knew,” he answered, immediately regretting it when you glared at him, as if saying that wasn’t the right answer. “i-i mean… i didn’t realize what was wrong, amor.”

you walked closer to your boyfriend, making him release your wrist. despite his typical stoic face, sae was clinging to your every word.

“itoshi sae, you can not talk to your little brother like that!” you nearly growled on his face, surprising him. “you were very rude and condescending, and that’s no way to speak to rin!”

he frowned. you were mad because of rin? the little green monster inside of him threatened to grow, but he forced him to stay put. sae didn’t want to anger you further, so he simply let his hands slither to your hips, pulling you closer to him.

“i don’t think i was rud—” you lifted one eyebrow, and he rolled his eyes. “fine. i might have been kinda harsh.”

“and?” you crossed your arms.

he sighed. “i will apologize.”

“i’m serious about this, itoshi sae. i will ask rin—”

“i’ll tell him i’m sorry, okay? no need to keep talking about rin.” he interrupted, palms traveling to your ass while he nosed your neck. he planted a small kiss under your ear, huffing a minty breath that made you shudder. sae smirked. “and no need to keep calling me by full name, either. what happened to ‘cariño’?”

you held onto his biceps for some grounding, but still didn’t budge. 

“you weren’t very sweet today, so it’s not fitting.” 

he pouted while hiding in your neck, taking full advantage that you couldn’t see him, but was quick to withdraw to face you once again, touching your noses. one of his hands cradled your jaw, and you sighed with the pathetic effect your boyfriend had on you. 

“perdóname, amor?” he whispered against your lips, eyes sincere like you knew he could be. your poor little heart could never resist him when he was like this, rarely vulnerable and eager for you.

you gave a long exhale, arms moving to tangle around his neck. and folded.

“as long as you make it right, mi cariño.”

© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

Modern au!Masterlist

Playlist FAQ Meet the cast:

Majors Who are they? Instas (jjk men) Readers' socials style JJk men's socials style

Gojo ❥ San Miguel: bottoms up (pt 1) ❥ Staropramen: drink up ❥ Stella Artois: stella? i barley know ya (pt 2) ❥ Birra Moretti: on the rocks (pt 3) ❥ Carling lager: shaken, not stirred (pt 4) ❥ Estrella Damm: don't drink and run ❥ Peroni Nastro Azzurro: brewing fun (pt 5) ❥ Corona Extra: sobering up (pt 6) ❥ Madri Lager: drunk words ❥ Budweiser: drink up (pt 7) ❥ Cosmopolitan: sober thoughts Geto ❥ 1923 BMW R32: put your keys in my ignition (pt 1) ❥ 1937 Brough Superior SS100: take me for a ride (pt 2) ❥ 1957 Harvey-Davidson Sportster: bumpy ride (pt 3) ❥ Ducati 350 Desmo: rev my engine ❥ Yamaha XT500: slowing down (pt 4) ❥ Norton Commando: speeding up (pt 5) ❥ Kawasaki W800: flashing lights ❥ Aprilia Tuono: halting to a stop (pt 6) Choso ❥ Fauvism: strong colours and fierce brushwork (pt 0) ❥ Rococo: aristocratic leisure (pt 1) ❥ Suprematism: pure artistic feeling (pt 2) ❥ Surrealism: exploration of dreams (pt 3) ❥ Classicism: practice strokes ❥ Arte Povera: humility and irony (pt 4) ❥ Precisionism: sharp cuts (pt 5) ❥ Renaissance: worship Toji ❥ Brooklyn Nets: things we really shouldn't do (pt 1) ❥ Charlotte Hornets: plans in motion (pt 2) ❥ Cleveland Cavaliers: full college experience (pt 3) ❥ Dallas Mavericks: nothing but net (pt 4) ❥ Detroit Pistons: reaching for the ball ❥ New York Knicks: jumping through hoops (pt 5) ❥ Miami Heat: setting boundaries (pt 6) ❥ Philadelphia 76ers: shoot and a miss (pt 7) ❥ Indiana Pacers: faking left Nanami Slightly different structure than the others, read the Guide, but general idea is the parts prior to Pt 1 are both before and afters (pls ask for clarification if confused)

❥ Universal Gravitation: attracted to his mass (pt 0) ❥ Conservation of energy: changing forms for you (pt 0) ❥ Conservation of angular momentum: his torque ❥ Newton's first law: without you (pt 0.5) ❥ Newton's third law: steps back and forward (pt 0.5) ❥ Coulomb's first law: unlike charges attract each other (pt 1) ❥ Speed of Light: propogate your light through my vacuum (pt 2) ❥ Kirchoff's Law: calculating resistance (pt 3) ❥ Ohm's Law: potential difference (pt 4) ❥ Newton's second law: rate of change (pt 5)

Sukuna ❥ Judas: a king with no crown (pt 1) ❥ Brutus: et tu? (pt 2) ❥ Ephialtes: reveal the path to home (pt 3) ❥ Winston Smith: her, not me (pt 4) ❥ Quisling: crumbling defences ❥ Mir Jafar: puppeteer (pt 5) ❥ Hanssen: disasters all around ❥ Jingwei: abandon us (pt 6) ❥ Caesar: all roads (pt 7) ❥ Ames: espionage ❥ Petain: losing it all pt 1 ❥ Petain: losing it all pt 2 ❥ Satan: the end and the beginning

TAYLOR SWIFT MENTIONED!??!!??????!!!!

You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath

Synopsis: trying to spend time with your boyfriend while keeping your relationship private… or a secret…

Content: Alhaitham x fem!reader, low-profile/secret relationship, angst no comfort, writer!reader,

Warnings: slightly toxic if you squint, guilt-tripping, neglect, arguing, long intro (it gets good i promise), cursing, not proofread

Note: (Title from Taylor Swift’s ‘All Too Well (10 Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version)’) I tried to make this as in-character as possible while trying to convey the conflict of the plot so please let me know if there are any inaccuracies

—

The walls of Lambad’s tavern grew dim as the sun set; you, Tighnari, and Kaveh sat at a table having a little get-together. It didn’t feel complete, though, because two members of the group have yet to arrive. Cyno said he would be late due to an interrogation he has to do. And Alhaitham… he didn’t really give a notice but you all figured he was busy, being the acting grand sage and all that.

After a 30-minute rant about Kaveh’s clients, you talked about writing a new novel but you had no idea how to start it.

“Questions are overrated,” said Kaveh as he downed his drink, “I suggest you start with an at-large murder suspect being chased down by government officials—not guardes or the millelith, literal government officials.”

“You could ask Cyno for inspiration,” Tighnari suggests. You consider the idea but you figured Cyno wouldn’t have the time. “Or you could ask Alhaitham. I remember he has some experience in that field too.”

“Ah, yes,” you reply meekly. “I had forgotten.”

Hearing Alhaitham’s name felt like a stab to the heart, a curse laid upon you. You weren’t sure if it was out of love or suffering. After two years of dating, not a single soul knew about the two of you. As you asked yourself why that is, you give yourself an excuse that he simply wasn’t ready to be out. That he wanted you to make a name for yourself in case people would only remember you as the acting grand sage’s partner and not your rightful title as a writer.

When he first introduced the idea of keeping your relationship low-profile, you thought nothing of it. You knew he had no ill-intentions with the situation, so you agreed. But you thought the coast would be clear 6 months into the relationship.

During that time, the only signs of affection you got from him were when he was seldom tired from work and came home to you, longing for your warmth and drowning you with the most beautifully crafted compliments you could only dream of hearing. It was the side of him only you got to see. It was almost an honor being able to witness such greatness, all the while feeling like a goddess, worshipped and gratified by the gift of your presence.

Nowadays, you no longer felt like a deity worth praying to; that side of him became rarer than it already was.

The times when you were together—together being with the rest of your friends—you would always try to make some sort of contact with him just to feel the thrill of love your heart was aching to have, only for him to starve you of it and leave.

You felt alone, neglected, desperate, nonexistent, like a forgotten dream worth pursuing.

Everytime you thought of leaving, frames and fragments of his flattering psalms and echoing touch seemed worth the mind-numbing pain you’re going through. You’re the only one for me, he’d say. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. He would gaze upon you like you were a full moon, and you would embrace him like he was the sun.

But basking under the sun is bound to get you burned.

About an hour later, already midnight, Cyno had already arrived but Alhaitham was nowhere to be seen. Kaveh has had too many drinks and is now drunk to the core. And with the hopes of seeing Alhaitham’s face for once, you drank your fair share too. Your cheeks glowed with a drunken flush, a fire setting aflame to your frozen heart. Something he could never do.

“Looks like the acting grand sage will not be joining us,” Cyno pointed out.

A guffaw escaped from your throat, “What is there to even expect, Alhaitham has been busy since that damned Azar did… something.”

You can’t think clearly. The laugh you let out almost sounded like a sob, and to be honest, you were on the verge of crying. You were just tired. You needed the warmth only the love of your life could provide.

Then out of the blue, the voice you longed for an eternity echoed through the tavern, tired and monotonous. “Apologies for my utmost tardiness, there were some issues at the akademiya I needed to handle.”

Alhaitham.

Your stomach hurt all of the sudden. You watched as he walked to the seat opposite of you. Shouldn’t you be happy now? You were just about to break down because he wasn’t here. Now that he is, you should be content and watch your boyfriend from afar. But all you could feel was betrayal, the blank agony of despair, the cruel sting of rejection.

He failed to notice the tears that glossed your eyes, assuming it was the reflection of the light. Your gaze pierced his soul with desperation, begging for him to console you and just… do whatever. You were asking for even a squeak, a sliver of concern, the bare minimum.

“Tighnari, how is Collei doing with her studies?” Like he had a shield for your painful daggers, he didn’t even glance at your direction. Disappointment filled you like a glass of wine. You should be used to this by now—the overwhelming weight when he avoided your leg, another desperate cry you needed him to hear.

Tighnari shared Collei’s progress after seeing that you were okay. As much as you were proud of her, you prayed to every archon not to let her be in your situation. Your heart shreds for the other person, it screams his name like a priest in worship, and all that for naught.

The group laughed at something, you weren’t listening all that much. You just felt… empty.

Kaveh’s voice called your name, “Isn’t that right, Y/N?” The group turns to you, who was dazed and distracted. The architect immediately noticed this. He patted your cold hand, “Y/N?”

“Hm? Ah, yes. Yeah, sure.”

Alhaitham laughed, “You seem distracted tonight, Y/N. If you’re looking to write for the akademiya, that kind of attitude will not be tolerated.”

Somehow you got defensive. Was it Alhaitham’s obliviousness? The way he made it seem like you were aloof? His laugh that mocked you in your desolate state? Maybe it was all of the above. Whatever it was, it made you snap.

“Ah, Alhaitham, akademiya this, akademiya that—there are more things to life than work, you know.” Your voice covered up your attacks as simple friendly banter. You’ve gotten good at sucking up your anxieties and steadying your voice all thanks to him. Now you can cover yourself up real nice when you commit a crime. You have a knife in mind, and you’re ready to kill. “Like, I don’t know, a partner, per say.”

Stab.

The grand sage scoffed, “You know very well I don’t have time for such trivial things.” His muscles flex as he crossed his arms. So these were the words he chose to say to you, after centuries of broken promises and empty plates.

“Maybe you would if you actually made the time for one.”

Stab.

“You are aware that you just ignored what I just said, right? Are you even listening?”

Stab.

“Oh, I’ve been listening. For the past two years, I’ve been listening my butt out for you.” It was scarring how unbothered Alhaitham was; you wanted to scream at him. The tightening of your chest, the prickling of tears behind your eyes, the weight of despair settling in your stomach, could he see what you’re going through? “Now, all I ask is a little bit of sympathy because I have been suffering all alone, waking up to an empty bed, not even a-“

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” Alhaitham interrupted you, somewhat panicked. You didn’t realize how loud you were being, up from your seat with your palm stinging from how hard it hit the table. “You know, if you’re having boy problems, you don’t have to take it out on me. It’s not like I’m your boyfriend.”

Right then and there, your world began crashing down. “Alhaitham,” Cyno muttered disapprovingly, making Alhaitham realize how rude he sounded. The tavern’s customers hushed to listen to your table. You hadn’t realized there were so many people.

Without even looking around, you could feel their eyes on you, whispers riddled with scandal.

“They’re being so loud.”

“Has she no shame?”

“In the presence of Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham, too.”

“Look, the general mahamatra is there; she really needs to watch herself.”

The embarrassment, the anger; it all fuelled you with a feeling you could not explain. No metaphor could capture the entirety of the wickedness of a man. How come he gets to sit there with everyone’s respect while you grovel in your puddle of tears? How come he’s having the time of his life while you’re burning in hell?

“You’re right,” you began, eyes dulled and void of life—of love, “You’re not. Okay, that’s all the liquor I can handle, guys. I think I’ll be heading home now.”

“Y/N,” Kaveh called, standing from his seat to escort you on your way out.

“I can walk myself, Kaveh.” You grabbed your things and took a sip of water. “Acting Grand Sage, humblest apologies.” Once again, you looked at him with utmost disappointment before leaving the tavern and heading home.

—

I am adrift in a sea of longing, drowning in the silence of his absence, clutching to memories like driftwood in a storm-tossed ocean. Yet still, I cling to the fading embers of our love, fearing the darkness that awaits should I let them fade to ash.

Hours after you returned home, sleep had not been your friend. As much as it would be typical, you cried until your eyes stung. It was now 4am, the time Alhaitham usually wakes up. Lost in your never-ending, ever-agonizing thoughts, you stared blankly at the dining room, wondering if he will finally recognize his mistakes, how much pain you’ve been in.

The knob of your front door twisted open, and surprise, surprise, it was Alhaitham who entered your apartment. “What the FUCK was that, Y/N?” He was not one to raise his voice like that, or even curse.

“Of all the nights I was available, this was when and how you choose to talk to me?” Your voice was the opposite—calm, sad, empty.

“Do you realize you nearly told everyone about our relationship?” He spotted a notebook on your crossed lap and grabbed it. “What’s that, ‘I am adrift in a sea of..’ what? Y/N, is there something you’re not telling me?”

“You specialized in languages, Alhaitham, you’ll figure it out.”

The man scoffed, “I’m not a mind reader, Y/N, if you could stop being immature-“

“You’re calling me immature? Okay, what about you keeping our two-year relationship a fucking secret?” The both of you continued raising your voices at each other. If people in the tavern hadn’t already spread rumors, this will surely start them. “Just tell me you’re ashamed of me, Alhaitham!” Then the man fell silent. Serves him right. “Tell me you don’t love me, so you can have a concrete reason to leave!”

“You know being the acting grand sage was never an easy task. The Fatui and other rebelling organizations have me as their number one target, and they are more than willing to hurt anyone to get their way! I was keeping us a secret to protect you! Seeing you getting hurt would mean the end of the world.”

“Getting hurt?” You scoff, “If you never wanted me to get hurt, you’re doing a terrible fucking job. I had to sit through multiple tables with empty seats because you were never home. Do you know how embarrassing that is for myself? I had to tolerate every ounce of contact you avoided because ‘someone might see us.’ In case you couldn’t get how much pain I’m in, let me sum it up for you—IT HURTS MORE THAN DEATH, ALHAITHAM!”

As the last echoes of your argument faded into the silence of the empty apartment, it felt as though the very foundations of your world was crumbling around them. Each word spoken was like a dagger to the heart, tearing apart the fragile bonds of love that had once held you together.

Every word you said stung his chest, the last part beating him to a pulp. It was too late for regret to cross his mind. “I really did love you, Alhaitham, more than anything.”

Those words… he hadn’t heard them in what felt like eternity. All he wanted to do was melt into your arms and apologize endlessly for all his wrongdoings, the times he barely came home, the mornings he could’ve spent with you. He’s been feeling this way for what feels like centuries. If he opened his arms to you, would you still embrace him? Would you still forgive him?

“But I can’t keep giving myself excuses to tolerate all of this.”

He looked at you, your eyes that were once so full of light now dimming of any source. The desperation, the longing you both share. There was so much sadness in your eyes. Have you always looked at him that way? Alhaitham was always quick on his feet—he had to find a way to convince you to stay!

“Y/N,” he began, “We can’t just give up on everything we’ve been through. All the dates, anniversaries, everything we took our time to make—it will all be a waste if we give up now.”

“I think you gave up on us the first time you dropped my hand when I reached for you.”

You were slowly slipping from his grasp, from his future. “I’m willing to give you all the time you need. Every meal, every date, every word you desire, I will make time for all of it. I promise you.”

“How can I know this will be another empty promise? How will I know you won’t do this again? You were never the type to offer everything so helplessly, Alhaitham.”

“Y/N, can’t you see-“

“Where were you during my sleepless nights? Where were you when I had prepared the perfect dinner for us? Where were you when I stood in the middle of the park, waiting for a certain someone to show up?

You were never there, Alhaitham. But I forgave you for all of that. I gave you a million last chances.”

A million last chances… you were thinking of leaving him beforehand? When he couldn’t seem to move his mouth, you decided you’ve had enough.

“Please, leave.”

It was too late for him now. He was long gone from saving you, from saving this relationship. There was nothing left to say, or do.

In the dim light of dawn, you both stood alone, tears a silent testament to the shattered dreams and broken promises that littered the floor like shards of glass. And as you watched your former lover walk away, a part of you knew that the wounds inflicted that night would never fully heal, leaving behind nothing but the bitter taste of regret and the haunting echo of what could have been.

(Part 2 coming soon!)

OMG I JUST WENT TO HAVE EXAMS AND YEAR 2 JUST APPEARED OSMSNJSNDNDNSJN

marigold promises

pairing: albedo x gn!reader

genre: social media au, modern/college au, childhood friends to academic rivals to lovers, slow burn

summary: it was evident that you and albedo have changed in the five years you’ve spent apart, but you know better than to view him through the lens of nostalgia. with one goal on your mind – graduate valedictorian – who better to stand in your way than the studious, intelligent, ice-cold albedo? one thing’s for sure: he’s going down.

warnings: swearing, crack, light angst, unrealistic depictions of college, family issues, self-doubt, abandonment issues; will be updated as the series continues

status: ongoing

author’s notes:

my first smau hehe. i’ve been working on this for a while so i’m really excited! updates will be sporadic but i’ll do my best to update often.

the timestamps don’t matter unless i say they do!

apologies in advance if i miss any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language

pictures used are simply to add visual description and do not depict the reader’s skin color, height, etc.

written chapters are marked with (☕︎)

profiles:

coffee addicts ([name]’s friends)

donut disco (albedo’s friends)

year 1 — whether i like it or not || playlist

01. finally, a worthy opponent! || 02. why pay for netflix?

03. if looks could kill || 04. impromptu cramming session

05. enigma (☕︎) || bonus. i hate it here

06. temporary truce || bonus. crisis companion

07. crack theory || bonus. bread

08. twin pendants (☕︎) || 09. no harm in asking

10. the print shop by the mondmart || 11. #TCUClubFair

12. save me a slice || 13. miss you too

14. caffeinate me up || 15. u ok?

16. hell week (☕︎) || 17. dean’s lister

18. please send help || 19. 6/10 difficulty (☕︎)

20. #ynsweep || 21. equilibrium (☕︎)

22. look me in the eyes (☕︎) || 23. team bonding

24. how could i, when it’s you? (☕︎) || 25. kiss for good luck

year 2— we make a goodteam,partner || playlist

26. lab partner thief || 27. dodoco

28. not even remotely subtle || 29. jealousy doesn’t look good on you

tba

year 3 — promise me this || playlist

tba

year 4 — these bonds that bind us || playlist

tba

taglist: @fvkkyu @mintreen @edreee @khyllynnn @xxmirrorballxx@aiikalvr @yaefics @ch35hir3 @aequha @alch3myy @lovely-althxa @nei-rinn @cridtiins @zestrya @skylions-den @moriiartt @theother-victoria @sunsethw4 @dazaisfavgf @serossidechick @koiir @lazy-sanns

— the taglist is currently open! if you’d like to be added feel free to reply or send in an ask! – if your blog isn’t highlighted it means i can’t tag you.

𝓫𝓵𝓾𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓬𝓴

ཐི♡ཋྀ ITOSHI SAE

ꨄ︎ home ---- you’ve known sae since you were both sixteen. he’s always dreamed of going overseas and facing the world, will he ever be ready to come home?

conversations ---- he’s back home, and you recall the times you’d spoken to him. all the calls you made, then all the calls he made, and then all the times it went to voicemail.

conversations: restart ---- (alt. ending) sae’s willing to throw everything else away to prove that out of everything in his life, you’re the one sure thing he needs. problem is, will you accept him after what he’s done?

about time ---- nothing’s necessary except his talent in soccer, until you appeared. and now, he’s got a new challenge.

whole ---- sae has few interests, and one of them is you. but sometimes, being special just isn’t enough.

incomplete ---- sae rarely knows what he’s doing when he comes to you. and sometimes, by the time he figures it out, it’s all way too late and you’re too far gone.

affection ---- the way sae loves you is beautiful. it’s nothing like you envisioned and something you never knew you needed.

chasing memories ---- you’re the one sae can’t get over. he’s beginning to think he never will.

ꨄ︎ always, eventually, yours ---- you have a crush on sae. for a long time now. and he’s always known that. he just wants to see how long you can hold out.

all this time ---- just when you feel like giving up, sae pulls you back into him.

& again ---- sae’s still learning the ropes on being in a relationship, and sometimes you think you can’t wait any longer. but this is itoshi sae, maybe you can.

and when he wants you ---- what do you do when your best friend kind of sort of forces you to confess your two-year long crush when you’re not ready to? pray and hope for the best.

don’t want you to go ---- he’s stupid and stubborn and bad at being a boyfriend. you make him want to be better though. always.

moral of the story ---- you and sae have been in love with each other since high school. during your special day, he throws you a curveball.

pucker up, buttercup ---- being sae’s girlfriend is tough. there’s a lot of things he can’t make time for, and unfortunately this time, it’s you. but somehow, he always pulls through.

crazy good ---- hold up, netizens. you’re in for a treat this time because guess what? out of all people, it’s time for itoshi sae to hard launch his girlfriend: you.

birthday wish ---- it’s itoshi sae’s birthday. the world hates you. you’ve never been a lucky one. being “shit out of luck” is the only thing you know. the tables must turn.

series: if not for you ---- neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail? [ completed ]

series: priceless ---- there’s a high price to pay for getting involved with itoshi sae. there’s an even higher price to pay when it seems like he’s not the only one. with everything going on behind the scenes, will you be able to afford all of it? [ ongoing ]

ཐི♡ཋྀ ITOSHI RIN

something stronger ---- rin thinks about you all the time, for better or for worse. problem is, he really shouldn’t be anymore. things never seem to work out for the both of you, will trying even make a difference this time?

soft ---- one cute thing he would do for you.

one answer ---- you and rin are both oblivious to each other’s feelings. but maybe one push is all you need.

the things you left behind ---- you & sae had something special, until he forcibly cuts it off. and now rin has you in his sights—but things get complicated when sae comes back for you.

ཐི♡ཋྀ NAGI SEISHIRO

effervescent ---- it’s a little more difficult for nagi to realise his feelings compared to the average man.

in his language ---- he didn’t ask you out because he wanted to, yet nagi gets more than he bargained for in the end.

ཐི♡ཋྀ MIKAGE REO

what if it’s you and me

love, you ---- heartbroken, you turn to your best friend for an escape. but he gives you much more than that.

ཐི♡ཋྀ ISAGI YOICHI

build a date ---- isagi has a crush on you.

ཐི♡ཋྀ MICHAEL KAISER

skin-deep ---- kaiser has more reason to visit his regular cafe spot now. and he’s not gonna quit until he makes you his.

no contest ---- being just friends doesn’t mean much when neither of you really want to keep it that way. problem is, will either of you make the first move?

Wrio the slay calling reading clingy so reader sleeps on couch …😊 thx

x : DISTANCE :*+ﾟ

in which: you overhear wriothesley calling your affection too much, so you respect his wishes and give him some space. yet, why does he not seem like it?

warnings: 5.6k words (why did it get so long), hurt/comfort, gn!reader and wriothesley are married, pet names, no spoilers but set in canon, misunderstandings and miscommunication af, slowburn??, you might tug your hair out at some parts lol sorry, fluff with angst but happy ending, it gets emotional.

a/n: okay this was definitely not my favourite piece, i was experimenting with writing styles and writing in an omnipresent pov... so sorry if it feels clunky at some bits. overall, i'm pretty happy! also sorry for not sticking to the original prompt

Perhaps today was a bad time, you think as you leave the Fortress of Meropide, anxiety churning in your stomach and doubt weighing on your mind. Despite Fontaine’s sunrays shining brightly upon you, you feel anything but warm.  

What started as a visit to your husband with kind, wholesome intentions of delivering some lunch to him on your day off ended with a visit that left you riddled with questions. Coming at a time when he was in a meeting nearing its end, you didn’t even get the chance to speak to him, yet his words rattled around your head, replaying like a broken disc. 

“How are you and your spouse?” A rich voice echoes from his office, door slightly ajar signifying that whatever discussion was happening within was coming to an end.

“Y/n and I? We’re amazing, thank you,” Wriothesley answers. “I’m always happiest whenever I’m with Y/n.” 

The company, who you have realised is Monsieur Neuvillette, responds. “That’s good to hear.”

“Although, Y/n has been quite… affectionate recently, to the point that it’s borderlining too much-”

The conversation is drowned out by a ring of an alarm on Wriothesley’s desk and the atmosphere from his office suddenly grows in tension. The voice of the two men turn from relaxed to alarmed in a matter of seconds, and that is when you decide it is probably time to take your leave, lest you intrude on whatever emergency has happened.

Dropping the lunch you brought for Wriothesley at reception, even the receptionist was confused by how quick your visit was since they typically lasted for an hour- even longer since Wriothesley likes to push the amount of time he gets with you. They don’t question it, though, merely nodding in understanding when you tell them to drop it off for him on your behalf.

Has Wriothesley always thought of your affection as too much? If it was overwhelming him, why didn’t he tell you? And why Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, of all people? You understood the nature of their relationship- how they both tend to confine in each other with whatever they are troubled by, but why couldn’t your husband come to you about this directly? You made an oath on your wedding day to be fully honest with each other and to never hide anything. Where did that promise go?

Arriving home with a heavy heart, you immediately flop onto the couch, arm covering your eyes as tears sting the corners of your eyes. Perhaps it’s time you lessen your displays of physical affection before you drive the love of your life away.

Wriothesley, looking down at the contents of your boxed lunch, feels his heart warm in his chest at your display of care. How fortunate he is to have someone like you, he thinks before eating, satisfying his hungry stomach that has been aching for food since half an hour ago. He wonders why you didn’t see him personally and dropped it off instead, he would have liked to eat with you beside him.  

Whatever the reason, he’ll make sure to drop by your favourite bakery to purchase some conch madeleines as a thank you. 

When he returns home later in the evening, you’re asleep on the couch, curled up with only a book on your chest to protect you from the chilly air seeping into the house. Wriothesley quickly lays his coat over you, bookmarking the page you were at before retreating to change into more relaxing clothes. You still have not roused when he returns and as much as it pains him to disturb you, he doesn’t want you napping too late lest it disturbs your sleep schedule.

“Y/n?” He gently shakes you. Slowly, you come to wakefulness, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at your husband.

“Wriothesley? You’re home?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes whilst slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”

“Nearing six in the evening.”

“Oh my! I didn’t mean to sleep that long! I’ll go get dinner ready, you should rest, you must have had a long day-”

Silencing you with a warm kiss to your forehead, you don’t melt into it like you usually would, his words from earlier slamming back into you like a brick. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, merely brushing your hair away from your forehead.

“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook,” Wriothesley offers, grabbing something he left on the table behind him. “Have some madeleines I bought for you whilst you wait.”

He places a bag of the baked goods in your hands and you smile at him, lips chapped and eyes still drowsy, yet Wriothesley thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever exist. 

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” The dark-haired leaves you with another kiss to your temple before turning around to go into the kitchen. However, you stop him with a tug on his wrist which you drop almost immediately when he turns around, acting as if his skin was an open flame that licked you. 

“Darling, you have a sticker on your arm.” You reach up to grab the piece of adhesive, ripping it off him in one smooth motion. 

“Those melusines,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For how much Wriothesley scolds them, he cannot bring himself to actually get mad at them, letting the little creatures play pranks instead of reprimanding them. 

“I’m surprised they keep getting by you. Maybe you need to sharpen your instincts.”

“Quiet, you,” there’s no bite to his words.

“They put a little crab on you,” you giggle. “Must be going through an ocean-themed sticker book. You had a little shell on you yesterday.”

“I did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I find it funny.” 

He sits down beside you, dinner momentarily forgotten. “Do you now?” The dark-haired murmurs. “Turns out my own spouse is against me also.”

“If it brings me amusement, why not let the melusines play their pranks a little longer?”

“You are an awful influence,” Wriothesley winds his arms around your torso, pushing you down into the pillows of the couch. There, you almost sink into him, lured by the warmth of his embrace, but the memory of what you overheard sinks into your gut like an icicle, and your smile fades.

You pat his shoulders in surrender. “Shouldn’t you be working on dinner, dear? It’s already quite late.” You pray he doesn’t notice the way you have suddenly altered the mood, drying the playful atmosphere.

If he does notice, he doesn’t comment on it, getting up with a groan before retreating into the kitchen. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

There’s a whistle from the doorway to your bedroom, low and appreciative, and the culprit is no one other than Wriothesley. He walks towards you, draping himself over your figure sat in front of the mirror. “Where are you going tonight?”

“Clorinde and I are going to dinner together,” you tell him nonchalantly, as if all of his weight wasn’t on your shoulders right now. 

He pouts. “When will you be home?”

“Not too late, that’s for sure. We’re meeting at the other side of the Court of Fontaine, though.”

“An evening without my love, whatever shall I do?”

“You’ll live,” you smile before raising a necklace up to him. “Help me put this on?”

With a huff, he raises himself off your back and gently takes the jewellery from your hands, careful with the jewels that adorn it. His cold touch grazes against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine as he successfully clasps it together. When you meet his gaze in the mirror, it’s full of adoration and admiration, and you have to busy yourself with your hair lest it flusters you too much. 

Standing up, you swiftly walk out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Wriothesley trails behind you without much thought. “I’ll get going now before I’m too late.”

“Do you need me to accompany you there?” 

“It’s alright, thank you for offering.” Disappointment floods him like an ocean as he watches you put on your shoes. With one final fidget of your clothes, you deem yourself presentable and turn to him. “See you tonight, darling-”

“-Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?” Your eyes widen in alarm as you begin frantically patting yourself down. “I brought my wallet, keys? They’re here, what am I forgetting?”

Wriothesley pretends like your cluelessness doesn’t hurt more than it actually does. He taps his cheek. “A kiss.”

“Oh, of course. How could I be so careless?” you laugh, the corners of your eyes scrunching with delight. Wriothesley has a remark resting on the tip of his tongue but it quickly dies when you step forward, anchoring your hand on his chin before you press a kiss to his cheek; to both cheeks for good measure. 

“Love you,” you murmur when parting. 

The desire to keep you home is a burning one, and pleads of ‘stay’ threaten to spill from his mouth. There is nothing more he wants than to be in your arms, to cling to you until the weekend is over in the blink of an eye, but you are your own person, and no matter how needy he is, Wriothesley should not stand in the way of your fun. 

“I love you more,” he sighs, holding open the front door for you. “Be back soon.”

“I’ll try. Bye dear!” You blow him a kiss before walking out of your garden.  

He watches you leave with a heart heavy with longing, closing the front door once you’re out of sight and tries to sigh the feeling of emptiness away. 

Later that night, Wriothesley greets you the second he hears the front door being unlocked, urgent strides allowing him to turn the corner just as you open the door, looking as pristine as you did when you left. There’s a small, tired smile on your face, but you look happy, blissful expression brightening when you see him. 

“Hello, love,” you say, slipping your shoes off.

“Welcome back,” he says, embracing you with one, muscular arm whilst pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands unusually fly up to hold his shoulders and Wriothesley thinks he’s imagining the way you push him slightly, as if trying to get him out of your personal space. Yet your grasp on him was so tight, creating temporary divots in his skin that he doesn’t really know what you’re trying to do.

Why are you trying to push him away in the first place? The thought of you not wanting him near is upsetting enough to make him unknowingly tighten his grip around you, causing you to stumble into him from the momentum. 

You look up at him, shocked whilst he gazes down at you with a storm of terror gathering in his eyes. For the first time since the two of you got married all those years ago, a rift forms.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Whatever occurred that night isn’t a topic of conversation, ever. The two of you retreated to bed after a quick conversation of how your evenings were before devolving into other topics, like what the week ahead had in store, restaurants you two should visit sometime, new boutiques and bakeries you’ve been hoping to explore- little chats that hold more meaning as the days roll by.

During it all, there was an undeniable heaviness to the conversation that made it slightly uncomfortable. Wriothesley cannot remove the memory of how you tried to push him away and you cannot forget the shocked look in his eyes. The more you picture it, the guiltier you feel, heart sinking in your chest.

You thought that it was what Wriothesley wanted: more space from you, an opportunity to breathe without you overwhelming his space.

So why do you feel so bad about respecting his wishes?

“What a lovely view!” You exclaim excitedly, running toward a patch on the grass that sits a few metres away from a nearby beach, the sound of waves meeting shore a soothing lullaby and a testament to how calm the day is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you’re out on a picnic with the love of your life.

“Here’s a nice spot to set up, what do you think, Wriothesley?” You ask.

“Sounds amazing, darling,” he responds, setting down the picnic basket when you’ve laid out the blanket. You sit down with an unglamorous huff, leaning back onto your hands to let the morning sun soak into your features.

Morning picnics were one of yours and Wriothesley’s favourite date ideas. The best time to be together was before the sun would rise to its highest peak, bearing hot sunrays that make everything uncomfortable for everyone. Fontaine’s sun is never merciful either, which is why the nation is perfect for diving and all other water-related activities, but when you are simply walking around, it becomes rather suffocating.

The Fortress of Meropide’s administrator takes a seat beside you and you indulge by resting your head on his shoulder, hoping that he isn’t uncomfortable under your touch. The dark-haired hasn’t shaken you off yet, so you keep resting against him.

“How did you discover this place?” You ask.

“Siora told me of it, said that a passenger on the aquabus was talking to her about it. She thought that it sounded like a delightful place to take you to,” he answers and you can’t help but smile, fiddling with your fingers.

Melusines and their wholesome ways. You’ll find a way to thank Siora later. “How kind of her and how fortunate for us.”

“I take it you like it here then?”

“I love it,” you tuck your legs closer to your chest and Wriothesley leans back on his arms as well, letting your hands rest beside each other as the sea continues to crash on the shore before you. There are seals resting nearby too, ships pass by here and there, and seagulls stop near the two of you before flying away, but the only thing that matters to Wriothesley is you leaning on his shoulder.

Sharing with him the breakfast sandwiches you packed, no words are exchanged, merely the sound of waves crashing against the shore occupy the tranquil silence. It’s not until a few minutes later that Wriothesley speaks. 

“Will you be visiting me at the office today?” He asks.

You tear your gaze away from the horizon. “Perhaps. Do you want me to?”

“Would I really be asking if I didn’t?”

“Please, forego the sass, your grace,” you snort and he rolls his eyes, an affectionate smile pulling on his lips. 

“Seriously though, I would like you to. You know how dreary and boring weekends at the prison get, would be much better having you there.”

“Are you trying to butter me up?”

“Is it working?” 

“Maybe,” you mutter, grinning. “Would you like me to bring lunch with me or shall we go find a place to eat?”

“How about takeout? Hey wait, now that I think about it, why didn’t you stay the other day when you brought lunch for me? I would have much rather seen your pretty face than the receptionist’s.”

You ignore the butterflies blooming in your stomach because of his compliment. “An emergency happened just as I reached there. I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it, so I left.”

Confusion shines in his eyes, his expression giving away the cogwork ticking in his brain as he tries to pinpoint what emergency you could be referring to. When the pieces click, his eyes widen a little. “I see. You did the right thing, my love,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“I’ll visit you today,” you whisper, toying with the hem of your clothes as you wait for his response. 

“Amazing. I’m looking forward to it, then”

You stay true to your word, walking down the path you recognise like the back of your hand. The guards need not think twice about welcoming you in, guiding you straight in the direction of Wriothesley’s office. 

Since being with him, you’ve grown less and less afraid of how daunting the Fortress can feel, adapting to the chill knowing that there is someone in there who will set himself ablaze to keep you warm. Yet, today you walk in with apprehension clasped around your ankles, threatening to pull you under with each step. 

It’s ridiculous, you know Wriothesley would never turn you away or shun you, but the mind is the worst enemy and yours can’t stop replaying the conversation you overheard weeks ago. You know Wriothesley could open those heavy doors of his and greet you with something more grim than loving and cast you aside, and you have to hold your breath when the guards knock on your behalf.

Your heart skips a beat when they push open the doors, revealing your husband crouched over his desk, hands mussed in his hair to keep them out of his eyes. He looks up at you and the way a smile manifests on his features is akin to that of fire melting ice, fatigue dissipating as you step inside his office.  

“Hello, dear,” you greet, tone soft and controlled, unlike the thrashing of your gut.

“Hi,” he stands up and takes great strides towards you. Naturally, you open your arms for him; unnaturally, you merely hug him instead of greeting him with a kiss. Wriothesley keeps you locked in his arms as he digs his nose into your neck and you feel the way his eyes flutter close against your skin.

“Long day?”

“Draining too,” he murmurs. 

“Oh dear, we cannot have your grace tired, whatever shall we do!” You gasp overdramatically, clearly poking fun at him because you are perhaps one of the only people who could do so in this entire building. 

The dark-haired accepts it and doesn’t bother to correct your use of formalities. Instead, he retracts his head out of your neck to look at you with hopeful eyes instead. “You could give me a kiss.” 

“Did you do anything today to earn it?”

“I need to earn my kisses now?”

“You should shut up sometimes,” you murmur before placing your hands along his jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He smiles against you, biting back a quip when his hand comes to the base of your neck, holding you against him. You can tell he needed the proximity, judging by his little exhale and the way his shoulders slouch, so you let him take his time and ignore the nagging in your heart.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Wriothesley is losing his mind. He has been since you left the Fortress of Meropide, and was left to freeze in the ache of your lack of affection. A goodbye kiss is customary between you two and when you didn’t give him one before leaving, it felt like a slap to the face. He would have much rather you just slapped him, actually, so what gives? 

You’re not rejecting his advances, but you’re not explicitly initiating anything either. Does that mean he should back off, too? Did he do something to upset you, and if so, when? All this thinking and speculating is making him feel like a pathetic headless chicken who can’t even talk to his spouse-

“-Wait!” You exclaim, just as he was about to grab the knob to the front entrance and step out. Instead, Wriothesley turns around to be greeted by the sigh of you frantically scrambling to him, and his heart can’t help but come alive, silencing his thoughts.

Stopping to a slide before him, he can’t hold back a soft grin. Despite just wrangling out of the claws of sleep, you’re so breathtaking, delicate in the mornings when no one else is around but him. The dark-haired is grateful that only he is able to witness you like this, that you trust him with this vulnerable side of you.

You don’t meet his gaze, eyes pinned to his chest instead. “Your tie is crooked,” you murmur hands reaching out before he even gets a chance to look down. “Let me help you.”

How can he deny such a kind request of yours? You’re gentle with him, undoing his knot and weaving it together until it looks proper, but Wriothesley couldn’t care what his tie looks like. You could be making a total fool of him and he wouldn’t care, too entranced by your glow to tear his eyes away from you. There’s a little scrunch in your forehead as you concentrate, mouth slightly parted and you’re not oblivious to his gaze either, too familiar with the intensity of it to get shy. 

Finally satisfied with your work, you let go, patting his shoulders and smoothing out any wrinkles in his garment. “There. All done.” 

“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs. 

Wriothesley is expecting a kiss from you, waits for the moment that you’ll rise onto your toes and place a peck on his lips to fill him with some energy for the day. He waits for the familiar feeling of your lips pressing against his, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that your touch always manages to ignite.

Except it never comes, and it hurts most to confess that some part of him preempted this. You step away from him without another word, or kiss, and his heart burns at your retraction, unease fluttering the lining of his stomach when you turn around to retreat into the living room. Wriothesley moves without thinking, a hand coming up to your waist to stop your steps as he forcefully pulls you back to him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one far more intense than the ones you usually give this early in the morning. 

You notice the desperation that bleeds from him; a certain fervour uncharacteristic in situations of morning domesticity. 

There’s a bright glimmer of surprise in your eyes when he pulls away, as if he had kissed away all your fatigue and shocked wakefulness into you. 

“Have a good day at work,” you murmur, barely able to choke the words out. 

“I will,” he replies, opening the door. You stay and watch him go, still trying to recover your breath over his passionate display of affection. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day his racing thoughts get to him is the eighth day of this strange treatment of yours. At this point, he’s become insatiable, barely able to hold it together as you remain in the centre of his world. He wants your affection again, he wants your displays of love, he wants you near him so badly that it’s driving him up the walls of the Fortress. 

It’s irrational for him, a grown man, to skirt around his problems as if he was a teenager. For some reason, Wriothesley has no issue locking up and containing some of Fontaine’s most dangerous criminals, yet when it comes to you, he becomes a lovesick fool who craves everything his partner can give. 

You still are not initiating any displays of affection, keeping to yourself unless it is him acting first. 

But after being locked in his own study for hours, unable to distract himself from you when he was really meant to be reading some new court documents from Neuvillette, he snaps. Pushing his chair out with more force than necessary, he searches for you in the living room, where you are curled up in the corner, reading.

“Is everything alright?” Wriothesley’s interruption shocks you, and you jolt your head up to meet his gaze. 

You are met with the sight of him leaned against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Why wouldn’t they be?” You ask, not letting your gaze linger for too long on his arms before sitting up just a little straighter.

“Dunno. Just double checking.”

“Okay,” you hum softly, nodding. “Are you alright?”

“Me?” How could you switch this up on him so quickly?

“Yeah.”

“Fine, amazing, just dandy.” 

You raise an eyebrow at your husband, not truly believing him but you decide it’s best not to press on. “Alright… but if anything is wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me.” You go back to your book and your hair falls perfectly in front of your face to hide it from him.

Wriothesley shifts his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find the words to speak up and ask why you were acting so weird. It’d been two hours and twenty-four minutes (and counting) since you last saw him when he disappeared into his study, were you not concerned for him in the slightest? Sure you dropped off a plate of fruit and refilled his teapot with hot water, but normally your check-ins would be a little more frequent, and a little more encouraging than just a morale boost through food. 

Where was the cheek kiss you always gave him before you left?

Deciding not to press on any further, your husband sighs before leaving, his arms and heart feeling emptier than usual. You are only in the next room, but why do you feel like you’re on the other side of Teyvat?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day Wriothesley snaps is the day Sigewinne asks him to be nicer to the guards of the Fortress because his foul mood is darkening the already glum prison. His subordinates must have sent her knowing that he couldn’t possibly lash out at her, and they were right, but she really didn’t need to comment on the way his veins have been more prominent recently, or how creases are forming on his forehead from how hard he’s been scowling. To top it off, she said that he should delay the appearance of wrinkles for as long as necessary, because there’s a good chance they’ll come earlier than he wants.

He’s not even a day over thirty, and yet, he is being reprimanded for ‘ageing’. But he knows the problem, and he’ll be damned if he lets it drag out for another day. 

“Welcome home, baby-” your greeting is cut off unceremoniously by your husband, who practically drags you into his embrace, closing you in with no space for you to breathe or move. Your cries of alarm are muffled against his chest, and he easily picks you up before striding the path to your shared bedroom. There, he all but throws you onto the bed, your neck resting on the pillows as he climbs on after you. “Wriothesley?”

He shushes you.

“What-”

“-I need this,” he wraps around you like a vine and breathes you in with the fervour of a man starved. 

When you try to shuffle away from under him, or at the very least sit up, Wriothesley groans, borderlining a growl as he tightens his arms around your middle. You don’t question or disobey his wants, merely sinking your head into the pillows in understanding that he must have had a particularly rough day. 

So instead of repelling his touch, you give in and let a hand snake up to his hair, playing with it as you let Wriothesley lay atop you. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melts away, and the way you’re scratching his scalp is enticing him to rest, except there is a barrier keeping him from reaching a haven of dreams and he won’t rest peacefully until he’s broken through it.

“Why have you been so distant lately?” He garbles, voice a lot shakier from the usual stoic Wriothesley that you are used to.

You heard him loud and clear, but a pathetic ‘pardon?’ slips past your lips.

“I said, why have you been so distant lately?” This time, he’s firm, determination seeping into his tone as a hand of his sneaks out from underneath you to search for your hand. After patting around, he finds it and holds it gently, raising it to press a long kiss to your knuckles. 

It’s silent. You don’t have anything to say in response and it’s past the grace period where you can give an excuse and make it sound like the truth, and Wriothesley looks up at you with expectant eyes. There’s hurt in them but as much as you’d like to mend the heartbroken expression of his, admitting the truth is difficult, because it has eaten you alive, gnawing at your heart for days on end. 

“I…I don’t have it in me to tell you,” you murmur quietly, looking away and slipping your hand out of his, but Wriothesley is tired of this dance of yours and chases after your touch, this time roughly grasping your wrists. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you rooted. 

“I didn’t do anything, did I?” He asks, raising your hand to his cheek. 

Your voice is quiet when you confess. “If I said you didn’t, I’d be lying.” 

The dark-haired stiffens. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you cough.

“No, Y/n, be honest with me here.”

“You’re going to laugh at me, or find me ridiculous.” Wriothesley’s heart clenches at your admittance, frowning at the fractures of insecurity piercing you like glass, but most of all, he hates that he can’t stop you from feeling this way. “I thought what I did was what you wanted.”  

“Which was?” 

“Some distance, just- not me crowding your personal space all the time.”

“Why would I ever want that?”

“I can get overbearing sometimes, and I don’t know, just assumed that would annoy you.”

“You’re not telling me everything, I can tell something happened to make you feel this way. Please, darling, just tell me the truth. I promise you I won’t judge or think differently of you.” 

You sigh. “I… I overheard you and Monsieur Neuvillette the other day- when I dropped off lunch. You said that my affection was sometimes too much, and that I was making you uncomfortable, so I thought that you wouldn’t want me to be around you anymore. I didn’t want to drive you away so I, y’know…”

Confusion fills him stomach like water and it takes a few moments before it hits him, the memory coming back to him. You heard his conversation out of context- he wasn’t complaining about you, no, quite the opposite, but it just seems that you weren’t there for the parts that mattered most, and now you can’t even bear to look him in the eye. 

“Honey, please look at me,” his voice thins into a vulnerable whisper that pleads for you to glance his way so you can see how he is head over heels in love with you. 

When your gaze finally meets his, he almost cracks under the weight of your sadness, and it dawns upon him that you can’t feel the adoration he holds for you, dripping from his heart into your hands. You can’t see the mountains he’d overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You don’t know the extent he would go just to win your love.

It’s a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, it’s that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night. 

Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. You have been feeling half-loved because of him and he doesn’t know how he can make it up to you.

“You misunderstand. I wasn’t talking about you negatively, I was talking to Neuvillette about how loved you made me feel that way, and how grateful I am to have someone like you as my partner,” he confesses earnestly, eyes pleading for you to believe him.

You blink at him, comprehending his words carefully. “Really?” You ask.

“I would never think otherwise,” he whispers.

As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, a smile pulls at your lips and suddenly, a laugh spills from them, causing your expression to scrunch up with joy, looking the most lively Wriothesley has seen you in a while. He laughs with you too, just a little. 

“I’m sorry,” you confess through dying fits of laughter. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that, how stupid.”

He shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for, you’re not at fault. But I beg you, never hide things like this from me again and tell me whenever something bothers you.”

You nod, “I will.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

“Never ever think that I want to be away from you,” Wriothesley grumbles, hiding himself in the crook of your neck. “That was the worst week of my life.” 

“Sorry for putting you through all that.”

“Stop apologising.” He demands. “Just, no more secrets.” 

“I love you, Wriothesley.” 

He sighs shakily, relief tangible in his tone. “I love you more.”

A damp patch forms on your collar bone right where his tears would fall, and you place a kiss on his forehead for each drop you feel on your skin. There is still much to discuss, much to mend between the two of you, but his hands run along your skin like he’s trying to memorise and mark you, so you never doubt his devotion again. 

*sighs and puts hands on hips* i don't really like that ending either so don't judge lol

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

The Background Character is Avoiding Death in This Life!

Dying? Hard. Reincarnating into a dating sim? Even harder. Doing everything to prevent your predetermined tragic fate? Might as well give up at that point. The bell tolls for you, but you refuse to let it claim you just yet!

(Leona Kingscholar x Reincarnated!Reader)

A/N: I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible, but the implication here is that the reader is afab/capable of becoming pregnant and giving birth.

The carriage jostled over gravel as you sat there in silence, clothed in pure white. A marriage to a man you've never met. One that you had done everything you could to prevent.

Waking up with memories of your past life wasn't the worst thing in the world, at least at first. As the third born Royal of the empire, you weren't given many duties, nor were you interested in competing for the throne. All you had to do was study (which you did with ease thanks to your past life), attend balls and tea parties (which at the very least served delicious food), and survive without falling victim to a plague (and the holy magic in this world, thankfully, made this task as easy as the rest). That was until your world came crashing down.

Outside politics weren't much of an interest for you. All you knew was that your older brother, the Second Prince, was a general who would fight and win wars alongside the Emperor, your father. Until you learnt of the development of a protectorate, representative of an alliance between seven kingdoms.

The Night Raven Protectorate was established in Imperial Year 1302. You had just turned 17, and realized who you were.

NRP: Battles of the Heart! was a tactical rpg with dating sim mechanics you had played in your first life. It wasn't the best game, but the art and soundtrack were lovely, the characters were nice to look at, and the gameplay was good enough. Here's the problem: the characters in nrpBoH (as the fandom called it) were at war. War with the Empire you currently resided in. A war the character you were reborn as had inadvertently caused.

The Third Royal of the Empire was engaged and promptly married to Leona Kingscholar, the only Duke of the Sunset Savanna. The two resided in the Night Raven Protectorate, as Leona had been chosen as a diplomatic envoy for his kingdom while his brother Farena, the crown prince, remained in the capital. Leona worked alongside the other diplomatic envoys of the alliance: Crown Prince Riddle Rosehearts, Marquis Azul Ashengrotto, Marquis Kalim Al-Asim, Duke Vil Schoenheit, Duke Idia Shroud, and Crown Prince Malleus Draconia, to establish unity and peace across their kingdoms.

The Third Royal died a year into their marriage with Duke Leona. The Empire, distraught at the loss of one of their royal family, declares war two years later. The Hero of nrpBoH arrives a year before the war starts, and ultimately helps the Seven Kingdoms win the war, capturing the hearts of the envoys and their closest aides on the way.

Essentially the timeline was as such: 1304 > you get married to Leona 1305 > you die 1306 > the Hero arrives and charms the cast of nrpBoH 1307 > the Empire declares war 1315 > the Seven Kingdoms defeat the Empire with the hero's aid, and everyone lives happily ever after

What do you mean you die before the events of the game even start?! And, just to make things even worse for you, your character was barely mentioned and the circumstances of their death were never discussed! Obviously it must have been suspicious, why else would the Empire declare war?! And why was it so easy for your husband, of a year, to get over you and date some floozy so soon after your death!

Okay maybe that last one was stretching it a bit, after all, it's not like Duke Leona had ever loved the Third Royal. When asked in game, all he said was that "They were a suitable partner for me. What, jealous? My heart will always belong to you, herbivore." with a cocky smirk on his face!

And so, you made it your life's goal to do anything to stop your marriage to the Duke from going through. You took a bigger interest in politics, encouraged the Crown Prince to form diplomatic alliances. Hell, you even got your brother, the warmongering Second Prince, the hardest boss in the game, to return home from the battlefield for the first time since he left at 16!

Yet every single action you took ultimately amounted to nothing. Your father, the Emperor, declared that you would marry Duke Leona to solidify the Empire's alliance with the Seven Kingdoms, and that was that.

You had begged and pleaded of course. Both the Crown and Second Princes had fought your father on this decision. Hell, even your younger brother, the Fourth Prince, had argued against the necessity of a marriage alliance. But your father's word was law, and so you were sent to the Night Raven Protectorate clad in your pure white garb, with nothing but your carriage, your luggage, and an entourage of guards and servants who would leave you at the border.

Which brings you back to the present. Slumped over in a grand carriage, with nothing to do but embroider and scheme. Your brothers were not even permitted to attend the wedding (at the Kingscholar family's request and the Emperor's decree), and none of your personal servants were allowed to join you in the protectorate.

So here you were, alone and unsure of if you could even avoid the wretched fate you'd been saddled with. If you couldn't prevent your marriage, were you just destined to die once a year was up? Would any of your actions even prevent the war that would happen in three years?

The carriage stops, and the coachmen knocks on the door to inform you of your arrival to the Night Raven Protectorate. You thank him and listen to the horses being switched out, your guards and maids leaving with the coachmen as your new one announces his presence to you.

"Ruggie Bucchi greets Your Highness." A voice calls out from behind the carriage doors. The windows are veiled, but you can make out the silhouette of a thin beastman with rounded ears. "I will be bringing you to the Duke's Estate to prepare for the wedding."

You sit there and try to ignore your world splitting into pieces. Dread curls in your stomach. You don't reply.

A beat of silence as your new coachman awaits any questions from you, before you watch his shadow pass over and the carriage start to move once more. The ride is much smoother this time. It does nothing to stop your shaking.

You didn't even have a second to compose yourself upon arriving at the Duke's Estate. A whirlwind of maids and valets descended upon you to prepare you for the wedding. You were bathed, dressed and had your make up done over the course of hours, the day going from early morning to evening without you even having a bite to eat, lest you risk 'ruining your figure'.

Your wedding garments were traditional to the empire. Shining white and decorated with diamonds as a display of wealth, a delicate veil hiding your features from the world. The servants beamed in pleasure as the head maid sang praises to your beauty.

"Trust me, Your Highness. His Grace will not be able to keep his hands off of you during your wedding night!"

You doubted it. If Leona had been spending regular nights with the Third Royal, a mention of their pregnancy would have been somewhere in the game (after all, the death of his unborn child would have made his backstory all the more tragic). But you took their praise with gentle nods and thanks, waiting until you would be led to the altar.

A knock on your door came a moment later. "Sir Jack Howl wishes to greet Your Highness and escort you to the altar."

You stood up and let a maid open the door for you. A wolf beastman dressed in armor stood before you, his ears twitching as he offered you the crook of his elbow. You took it with grace, each step making the death knell in your ears ring ever louder.

The Duke's estate was large enough to host hundreds of servants, but thankfully someone had the forethought to dress you in a guest room close to where the wedding would be held. Your garments were made for you to be displayed, as evident by how hellish it was to walk in them, the weight of them making each step feel laborious. Sir Jack graciously matched your pace, the heels of your shoes clicking against tile as you reached the altar.

Your husband-to-be stood in front of you, dressed in Empire wedding garments. Based on the in-game marriage cg, you'd expected him to be wearing the colorful wedding attire of the Sunset Savanna. Yet he stood in front of you, clad in black.

You thought it was fitting for him to be clad in the colors of a reaper. His green eyes pierced through your veil, flitting over the death grip your hands had on your bouquet before returning to the priest, looking ever so slightly bored.

The two of you stood through a lengthy speech about the union of two countries and the solidification of the alliance between the Empire and the Seven Kingdoms. Sir Jack stood behind you in parade rest, while a blond beastman stood behind Leona in a more lax pose.

A quick glance through the crowd saw that the rest of the game's main cast, from Crown Prince Riddle to Sir Sebek, all sat in the cathedral, with Crown Prince Farena sitting with his wife and son at the back. It was, by all means, a perfect imperial wedding.

Eventually, the priest's prattling stopped as he gestured for the rings to be presented to the betrotheds. The rings were simple. Gold bands rested on a white velvet pillow in a white cathedral adorned by white flowers on white tile and-

"-take Leona to be your husband in life, death and the lands that lay beyond?" The priest gazed at you, and you snapped back to attention.

"I do." You said in a lilting voice, taking the ring and placing it upon Leona's ring finger as he did the same to yours.

You couldn't hear what the priest said next through the pounding of blood in your ears, the polite applause in the cathedral barely registering.

Sir Jack offered you his arm once more, and you took it to be readied for the reception.

You could faintly make out Duke Leona being surrounded in congratulations from his friends and colleagues. You glanced at Sir Jack through the veil, and for a second saw your second brother instead.

Your heart ached in time with your hollow steps.

Here's the thing: Out of all the diplomatic envoys, the only one you could ever be married to was Leona.

The Emperor never had a blood heir, his kind heart instead adopting children he'd find during his conquests of other lands. Neither you nor your brothers had a drop of royal blood.

The nobles of the Empire took issue with that, or they did when the Crown Prince was adopted. The Emperor's threats quickly shut them up.

The Empire would not accept you being married to anything less than another land's prince, but the Queendom of Roses and Briar Valley would never accept one of common blood on the throne.

Leona was the only option for you to marry to solidify your lands' alliance.

(It was too bad the Third Royal's death caused the alliance to dissolve anyways)

The wedding reception was a blur to you. Faces passed by and congratulated you and Leona (mostly Leona), presenting gifts upon gifts as the hours ticked by. Marquis Kalim offered you a littany of jewelry. Prince Riddle gave you books on the history and etiquette used throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Duke Vil gifted you a variety of beauty products, with a guide for when and how they should be used.

You could barely eat the wedding food provided to you. You numbly watched your husband scarf down his steak, avoiding each and every vegetable. A flicker of amusement ran through you at that, and a smile quirked up your lips.

Duke Leona noticed, of course. "What're you smiling at?" He asked, voice flat.

You ducked your head down at that. "I simply was admiring how gracefully you cut your steak."

A moment of silence as he looked at you before he went back to eating without a word.

The Third Royal's death in nrp14 was rarely brought up. There were two things the playerbase knew about it:

It happened on the exact anniversary of the wedding

The Empire found it suspicious enough to declare war against the Night Raven Protectorate, and by extension, the Seven Kingdoms that the Protectorate belonged to.

A suspicious death was all you had to go off of. The Third Royal was likely murdered, and all you knew was when it happened. Honestly, it might not have even been a quick assassination. It could have been a gradual poisoning that eventually killed them on the day of their anniversary, a 'quiet' heart attack, hell it could have been a freak horse riding 'accident' for all you knew.

The Empire declaring it suspicious was, in itself, suspicious. It might have been a genuine accidental death, but was a convenient excuse to declare war. It might have even been your own Empire that killed the Third Royal for this reason.

All you knew was when you were meant to die. Therefore, everyone was a suspect. If Duke Leona did it (which, judging from how flippant he was about his spouse, he very well might have), then all you could do was be the model spouse in hopes to please him. If one of the other diplomatic envoys did it, then you have to make yourself invaluable to their diplomatic maneuvers to avoid it. If the Empire did it-

If the Empire did it, then you had to make yourself as nonthreatening as possible to it.

The room you shared with Leona was beautiful. A wide balcony adorned with plants opened the room up, letting you watch the night sky. The bed was grand, populated in numerous feather-soft pillows. Colorful rugs, trademarks of the Sunset Savanna's weaving expertise, lay across the floor. A carved chessboard and pieces rested on the table.

Leona noticed you looking at it. "D'you play?" He said as he threw his court coat across the room without care.

You brushed your fingers over the pieces. "Not really, Your Grace. That was more of my brothers' thing..."

Leona's eyes trailed you as you carefully placed your veil on a sofa cushion, before he turned away as you started to fiddle with the clasps of your outfit.

He spoke up after a moment. "I didn't ask if your brothers played." You heard the rustle of clothing as you put on your nightwear. "I asked if you played."

"I do, but I'm not very good at it."

"I'll be the judge of that."

He strolled over to the chessboard, clothed in a thin silk shirt and pants. He gestured for you to sit across from him as he reset the board, black facing him.

You moved your white pawn to D4, wondering if this would be your wedding night. A preferable outcome, really. You barely knew Leona. Plus he might kill you if you performed badly enough. You chuckled at the thought.

Leona raised a brow. "Something funny?" Knight to F6.

"Just a passing thought, Your Grace." Knight to H3.

A grunt of acknowledgment. Pawn to D5.

You played through a few more moves before speaking up again. "Is this..." You tossed the words around in your head. "Will you be..." Your fingers brushed over the queen.

"If you're asking about our wedding night, I'm plannin' on sleepin' after this." He tapped his finger on the table as he waited for your next move.

"I-" Thank you, you wanted to say, but you moved your pawn to H4 instead.

He checkmated you with ease, barely losing any pieces. But instead of gloating, he simply went to bed, expecting you to follow.

Being the master of the duchy was different from being a royal. You were in charge of managing all the internal affairs, while Leona was in charge of the external ones. While this would usually mean that you'd be managing the servants and budget of the Duke's Estate, in your case it meant that you were doing not only your paperwork, but the late paperwork Leona had neglected to do.

You looked at the towering stack of paper leaning against the desk in your new office. It would take more than a week to get through all that.

Ruggie laughed nervously by your side. "The rest is in Leona's office."

You sighed and reached for a quill. "Right. Shall we get started then?"

Sir Jack, who you soon learnt was Leona's most trusted knight, and Ruggie, Leona's aide, were invaluable to you running the duchy as smoothly as you did. While Leona napped, you had Ruggie deliver the needed letters and replies to the other diplomatic envoys. While Leona trained the knights, you were stamping all the paperwork he hadn't finished the day before. And when Leona finally entered the office, you were hurrying down a lunch you barely had enough time to eat.

Still, you never said a word about it to Leona, even when the workload threatened to swallow you whole.

You needed to be a model spouse; to be invaluable to the duchy. If you did most of the work, then what reason would Leona have to kill you? If he did, then he'd be the one stuck doing paperwork in the office all day.

...You barely had time to eat dinner with him. You entered the bedroom hours after he went to bed, and woke and ate breakfast when the sun rose.

You would be running on fumes soon, and there was nothing you could do about it. Ruggie started to slip you snacks during the lulls between one stack of paperwork and the next. Jack started pulling you away every so often, if only for a few minutes, just so you could get some sunlight.

It still wasn't enough to get you to leave your office for more than an hour or two each day. The paperwork seemed never ending, impossible for one person to do. Until, eventually, Leona stepped in.

"I'll do that." He muttered as he swiped a pile of paperwork off your desk.

You blinked through bleary eyes. "There's no need, Your Grace. I can-"

"Where'd this 'Your Grace' stuff come from." He shot back. "Call me Leona."

"I- fine. I can get through that stack of papers Leona, there's no need for you to burden yourself with it."

His tail swished as he glared at you. "Then why're you the one doing it? If it's a burden, then give it to Ruggie or someone."

"...Because it is my duty as the Duke's Spouse to complete any paperwork necessary to the functioning of the Duchy." You tucked your hands in your lap, twisting your fingers through each other in a facsimile of a hand holding your own.

"Is that so?" A dangerous smirk played at your husband's lips. He started to glance through papers, separating them into two piles.

"I- Your Grace- What are you doing?"

He didn't reply, merely continuing to sort through the stack on your desk.

Was he seriously going to ignore you until you called him by his name? What kind of immature, childish-

"Leona, what are you doing?" You asked through gritted teeth.

"Makin' sure you're only doin' paperwork necessary to the functionin' of the Duchy, dearly betrothed." He replied with ease, holding the larger stack of papers in his arms.

"But- you- let me do the larger stack at least, you're already so busy-" You attempt to appeal before you are cut off.

"Busy doin' what? Sure, my naps are incredibly important." Leona ignored Ruggie's eye roll. "But I'm sure I can fit in time for this somewhere."

You gnawed at your thumb, before trying again. "There's really no need, I've been managing fine on my own-"

"Ruggie told me you fainted yesterday." Leona's eyes flashed as the room turned cold. "I'm not lettin' you do this at the expense of your health."

"It was only a minor occurrence, really I'm fine! I'll take better care of my health, just let me-"

"Why are you so insistent on this?" You froze, and Leona's eyes saw right through you. He scoffed. "You don't need to be walkin' on eggshells around me all the time. I can handle my own work."

"Obviously not if you let it pile up to this point!" You snapped back, teeth digging through the flesh of your thumb. "If you don't want to do it, then why not let me? You can keep your naps, and I can do the work, that's perfectly alright with me!"

"And watch my spouse waste away? I barely see you at dinner, and when I do you're picking at your food like some kind of bird. You barely eat, you barely sleep, Sevens, you barely even talk to me!" You flinched at Leona's raised voice, and he paused, taking a breath. He continued with a gentler tone. "We may not have married for love, but I expect a life partner. I don't want to watch my spouse overwork themselves to the grave just to please me, okay?"

You hesitated, scanning his face for any hint of a lie. Leona's eyes met yours, a steady green. "Alright. But, in exchange-" You looked at him for any sign of objection before continuing. "I- I want to help with your diplomatic envoy meetings." At his crossed arms, you struggled for an explanation. "It doesn't even have to include me being present, I can just help with your appeals. I don't even have to look at any of the documents I just-"

"It's a good idea." He stopped your rambling with a raised hand. "The others've been asking how you were doin' anyways."

"I- really?"

"Why'd you ask if you didn't even think I'd say yes?"

You ignored his snarky comment and moved past your desk, legs shaky like a newborn fawn. Still you persevered, Leona moving closer to hover over you. You grasped his hands in yours, ignorant to the shocked expression that flitted over his face. "Thank you thank you thank you! I won't disappoint you, I promise!" You squealed as you bounced up and down.

Now you just have to make yourself useful to the envoys, and that's two death flags down! Leona seems to care about your continued well-being, which removes him from the culprit list. Jack was way too noble to even think about hurting you (He almost cried when he saw the slight bruise around your wrist. He had gripped you a little too hard to save you from falling during your fainting episode.). And Ruggie saw you as a comrade against the paperwork Leona kept leaving for him to do. (He had cried tears of joy when the two of you had gotten through that first stack. Apparently it had been tormenting him for a month.).

If things kept going your way, then you could probably prevent the entirety of the main cast from killing you. Then, it's just making sure to stay far, far away from the Empire until the year is over.

You will get through this year! And then, once the hero arrives, you can take a backseat and graciously allow Leona to pursue them, then return to the Empire with a war averted, divorce papers in hand! You just have to continue to be useful to the main cast, before taking a bow and exiting stage left.

Surely you could just get through your lines without issue. Right?

Leona frowned as he looked at your hand. Your thumb was bleeding. He glanced at Ruggie, and with a tilt of his head the hyena was off to grab you some gauze.

An unbidden, soft smile came to his face as he basked in this moment with you. He'd been apathetic to this union from the moment it was clear he'd have to marry you, a royal he'd never even seen before. But looking at you, you with your bright smile and your warm hands around his, he could admit to himself that a marriage with you as his spouse couldn't be too bad.

A/N: And that's a wrap folks! I'm not sure if I will be continuing this story, I mostly wrote it to get it out of my system, but if people seem interested in a continuation, I might write one. If you can't tell, this is based off of the many, many otome isekai manhwas out there. If you're looking for a fluffy one like this story, I recommend "The Villainess Wants to Marry a Commoner!!". You can read it ad-free on mangadex.org <3

i know who my first call will be to — sae misses home more than he thought he would

Itoshi Sae’s heart stays behind in Spain whenever he leaves for overseas matches.

An absurd notion, most certainly. Ridiculous, in every sense that exists to the word. So unbelievable, in fact, that he still has a hard time believing it himself.

Nevertheless, it remains the only explanation behind the ache in his chest whenever he goes to sleep in an empty hotel bed. It’s why his meal times are dull and monotonous; why he finds himself pushing past his bedtime to remain glued to his phone, listening to you recounting your day.

Sae isn’t sure if you know it — how he desperately yearns to remain by your side. And if you do, you’re good at hiding it (he likes to think it’s for his sake).

His grip on his phone tightens just enough, a soft hum rumbling in his throat as he absentmindedly agrees with something you said.

When you lean closer to the screen, Sae nuzzles into his pillow, holding it tight as he pretends it’s you instead. You cup your chin with your hand, looking away as you trail off mid-sentence.

“I miss you,” he says, quiet and soft and so, so unlike himself, filling the faintest gap of silence.

Your eyes flit back, meeting his own through the screen. Sae has to strain to catch the soft exhale that leaves your lips. Then, you smile — gentle and (somehow) pitying at the same time.

“You’ll be home soon enough,” you say, your tone full of warmth.

“I want to be home now,” he replies, almost petulant as the pillowcase slightly muffles his words. His gaze softens when you do. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you whisper, lightly poking the camera in a manner that has him instinctively scrunching up his nose. You tilt your head to the side, studying half of his face as best you can through a phone.

“My flight back is on Saturday,” Sae says, studying your face in return.

“I know. Want me to pick you up?”

“I land around midnight,” he mumbles. “I don’t want to keep you up—”

“Sae.”

The tips of his ears burn, embarrassment painting his cheeks red when your eyes meet. After a beat, he huffs in complaint, his brows furrowing. Still, your gaze softens; and he melts almost instantly.

He sniffles, lightly shifting onto his side. “I want you to pick me up from the airport,” he clarifies, trying to will a little firmness into his voice.

“Hm,” there’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest, fluttering and clinging to every corner at your soft hum. It further roots itself into him when you grin. “I’ll think about it.”

“What’ll it take for you to say yes?” he asks, trying to bite back a smile. He nuzzles into his pillow when you lean back, pretending to be deep in thought.

God, he misses you so bad. He misses being near you with every bone in his body.

“A kiss, maybe. If you want.”

Sae rolls his eyes, fondness buzzing in his chest. “I thought you were going to be more ambitious than that.”

You shrug, nonchalant, “I’ll max out your card when you get home.”

“Mm.” Sae rolls onto his other side, switching his phone to his free hand. “That sounds more like you,” he mumbles, soft.

The corners of his eyes crinkle when you guffaw, quickly defending yourself against his claim. His expression softens impossibly so — he’s sure the press would have a field day if they saw him like this. (Part of him thinks he wouldn’t care if they did; you’re the reason behind it, anyway).

“I wanna go home.”

“You’re staying in France for, like, two more days. You’ll be fine, Sae.”

He rolls his eyes, picking at the edges of his phone case. “Have you washed the bedsheets yet?”

“Yesterday,” you reply, absentminded. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” Sae murmurs, hushed. “Did you use the detergent I like?”

“Yeah?”

He makes a soft noise, “I hope you know I’m collapsing on our bed when I get home.”

“I don’t—”

“And I’m bringing you down with me.”

A soft, amused huff leaves his lips at your expression. His eyes narrow just a little, the action fond and affectionate in nature. When you sputter, Sae scrunches up his nose. He wishes he could kiss the frown off your lips.

“Whatever,” you grumble, softly clicking your tongue. “You’re lucky I miss you.”

“I miss you more,” Sae whispers, soft and gentle and so, so unlike himself. He supposes his demeanor is your fault — his heart turned to mush the moment he gave it to you. The thought is stupid and utterly asinine, truly.

Still, Sae doesn’t mind. He believes it more and more, letting it take root in his soul every time you brighten up at his tender, ‘I love you’s.

I'd take him back in a second

promise ⋆⭒˚.⋆ !!

so i broke my promise ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

aventurine x gn!reader .ᐟ socmed au

i called you last night .ᐟ ⋆ ˚｡⋆

synopsis ⭑𓂃 while aventurine swore to never contact his ex ever again, he finds himself calling them every single night.

content ⭑𓂃 exes-to-lovers. angst. acheswan & oc/canon. dark humor(?). mention of dark topics (suicide, s/h). small spoilers for aventurine's character story. lovesick aventurine.

episodes ⭑𓂃 profiles. one. two. three. more tba.

TAGLIST open. please send an ask, or comment below. please ONLY ask to be added here or through asks.

🫣ze rizz(ee)ler

10 Seconds - Floyd

Author Notes: I'm not gonna lie, I had a lot of fun writing this. This fic was pretty much entirely inspired by a scene in chapter 111 in Akagami no Shirayukihime (Snow White with The Red Hair). After I found out that Floyd and Obi had the same voice actor, the temptation was to great for me to resist. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Fluff/ flirtation/ romance/ kind of spoofy/ Reader does have a pushy admirer so be warned on that note

Word Count: 1890

There was something about persistent wanna-be lovers that made one nervous enough to look to even the most shady sources of help. Including Octaveinelle.

“So this young man has been bothering you for…?” Jade trailed off as he looked up from the glass he was currently polishing to where I sat, right in front of him, at the bar.

“A little over a month now, I think.” I frowned as I recounted the numerous times the Pomefiore junior in question had just ‘happened’ to be right where I would inevitably run into him.

 I would be trapped there, having to interact with him and dodging his advances until I was saved by some passerby or thought up a reasonable excuse to leave.

I could’ve gone to Vil for help, considering it was one of his dorm members. But I also didn’t entirely want to put my annoyingly persistent and considerably pushy admirer through quite that much sorrow.

I did, however, want this handled, and me turning him down numerous times as politely as possible simply wasn’t cutting it. Which was why I went to Octavinelle to seek the advice of the infamous tweels. After all, they handled a lot of Azul's issues. Surely they would have advice for handling one persistent admirer.

Floyd let out a low whistle from behind me, causing me to twist slightly to glance at the young man who ought to be sweeping but was now just propped up on the broom’s handle as he shook his head, “Stubborn guy.”

His eyes found mine as a grin crossed his face, and I realized very quickly that I didn’t want to know exactly what Floyd was thinking. That wasn’t really one of his nice grins….

“Come now, Floyd. We can’t exactly blame the poor fool for being quite so smitten with our darling little Prefect, can we?” I almost grimaced at Jade’s teasing tone as I turned in time to catch his mocking, sharp-toothed smile.

“Guys,” I didn’t even bother fighting the whine that slipped into my tone. “I just want some advice. I can’t get him to go away, and I’ve already tried being blunt.”

Jade smiled in an indulgent manner down at me before a frown crossed his face, “I suppose it is rather problematic and concerning if he’s been at it this long.”

He sat the glass down with a tiny clink on the bar as he continued to ponder my plight, “You said he’s a Pomefiore student?”

I nodded, wondering exactly what Jade was thinking as Floyd slipped up next to me, propping himself on the bar, “Should I just scare him off? That’d probably do it.” 

Floyd sounded perfectly willing to do just that as he looked at me with that sharp-toothed grin of his before looking towards his brother. 

But he was soon frowning in confusion as Jade started to shake his head with a slight frown, “No, if he’s as determined as I fear, then I doubt that would solve the problem for little more than three days.”

That mocking smile appeared on Jade’s face again, even though he wasn’t actually looking at either me or his brother, as he continued, “Besides. Those Pomefiore boys are the schooling sort. Always flitting about in a group. If we tried aggression, he’d just come back with his friends, and that would make things more difficult for you, wouldn’t it, Prefect?”

He looked towards me as he finished, and I nodded glumly, “A squad probably would make it tougher.”

Especially since Pomefiore squads were known to be aggressive. Turning him down in front of his posse could be risky at best.

A chuckle slipped from the vice-housewarden’s lips as he smiled at me, “Now, now. There’s no need to make such a face. The solution is really quite simple, isn’t it?”

I perked up at his words, looking at him hopefully before I frowned once I noticed his grin, “What’s it gonna cost?”

The twins laughed together, their voices joining in a strange harmony that made me tense ever-so-slightly. 

“Oh, it’ll be on the house this time. After all, this will be most amusing for both of us.” Jade’s words seemed to surprise Floyd as much as they did me.

Unperturbed by our obvious confusion, Jade leaned forward with an undoubtedly conspiratorial grin. Propping himself on his elbows as he gestured both of us closer with a single flick of his long fingers, “Listen closely…..”

And that was what had brought me to this moment, as I let out a quiet exhale before rounding the corner.

I didn’t even have to worry about setting the guy up. I knew exactly where he’d be.

Propped up on the wall in that careful pose he was always in when he was waiting for me to come and just ‘happen’ to bump into him.

And sure enough, there he was. Leaning against the wall with one arm raised so that he had me slightly caged in from the very second I rounded the corner.

“Prefect! What a surprise,” His perfectly white teeth flashed almost blindingly, and I fought not to gag at the raw amount of perfume he was wearing. 

It was a good thing he hadn’t brought his posse; I probably would’ve passed out from the raw amount of perfume that would’ve been in the air.

But I smiled. Pretending to be surprised and not at all frustrated by his persistent, unwanted affections as I carefully went back through the plan that Jade had laid out in my head.

Interact with him like everything was normal while waiting until reinforcements came, and then follow those very simple directions that Jade had given.

So I waited. Awkwardly exchanging pleasantries and smiling up at the young man who now leaned increasingly closer despite how much I would like him to say far away. He was no doubt about to drop some sort of new line that was intended to sweep me off my feet but would be far more likely to make me grimace.

And right as he opened his mouth with a grin that spoke of some very misplaced confidence, I heard the exact thing I’d been waiting for.

“Shrimpy~” Floyd’s sing-song call came from behind me, and I turned so fast that I almost missed the deep frown that appeared at impressive speeds on my admirer’s face.

“Floyd!” I didn’t have to fake my joy at seeing him, though I couldn’t say the same for him considering that Floyd himself looked entirely bored as he looked towards the Pomefiore junior that now stood stiffly silent. Already frustrated by the mere presence of Floyd.

For a brief moment, I was honestly worried about how well Jade’s scheme was going to go over until Floyd’s gaze shifted and his eyes met mine. Because then there was an entire change to his person.

His gaze softened ever so slightly, and his lips twitched up in an absentminded smile as he walked over, all but cooing at me affectionately, “There you are.”

He didn’t stop until he was right next to me, looking down at me, and then I knew the moment of truth was upon us.

I could hear Jade’s amused voice in my head as I braced myself, swallowing as I recalled his words: “Ten seconds. You will need to stare into each other’s eyes for ten seconds. But that’s all it will take.”

Floyd was far calmer than I was as he slipped off his blazer and draped it over my shoulders, blocking the cool breeze that came through the open window.

 His voice was quieter than usual, though still playful as he spoke, “There you go; can’t have you getting cold.” And that was my cue that we were beginning.

One.

My hand reached up to tug his oversized jacket a little closer around my body, and my hand brushed lightly against his fingers that lingered at my shoulders.

Two. Three. Four.

I twisted just a little bit more so that I could look at him better as his hand slid down my arm so that his arm was wrapped around my shoulders.

Five. 

It was already getting sort of awkward to keep staring for this long into Floyd’s mismatched eyes for this long. But now I was beginning to think more about the color of his irises than the actual situation we were in.

Six. Seven.

One was a yellow color. Not a sickly yellow, but rather it was a warmer color that made me feel oddly safe considering the young man I was looking up at. The other eye was a surprisingly gentle olive that was also welcomingly familiar and spoke of how, in certain moments, Floyd himself could actually be quite gentle.

Eight. Nine.

I could feel numerous people staring at us, and I was fairly certain that one of them was definitely Jade. He was probably utterly delighted by how uniquely embarrassing this really was. Because even though I’d been prepared to feel a little self-conscious, I hadn’t been expecting to be this flustered. Especially since it was just Floyd….

Ten.

Floyd’s smile grew by just a fraction, and then he blinked, “I reckon I’ll see you later. I know you can’t miss your class. Good little student that you are~” He let go of my arm with an affectionate squeeze as he continued to look down at me. But this time with amusement in his gaze and a teasing lilt to his voice.

I swallowed down my overwhelming shyness as I looked away, blinking as I attempted to force my recovery by focusing on his teasing. 

But even then, my voice wobbled as I quipped back, not quite able to look back up at him, “Unlike you, I actually have to study to keep my grades up.”

Out of my peripheral vision, I could tell he was fully grinning now, “Aww, if you ever need help, you can just ask. If you're nervous about Azul, I can help you out.”

He leaned down and into my line of sight so that he could wink at me, and I let out an exhale. Reminding myself that this was Floyd I was dealing with. Not some incredibly romantic male lead who was here to sweep me off my feet and actually be successful.

Which brought me back to my admirer, who was still standing there, staring in open-mouthed shock. 

“Ex- Excuse me, I lost track of time with Floyd and really do need to get to class now,” I  was still flustered enough that I stammered slightly before I flashed him an apologetic grin before I trotted off. 

As I fled the scene, I passed a chuckling Jade and mouthed a quick, ‘Thank you,’ before hurrying on. Attempting to outrun the oddly shy sensation I now felt at the thought of being near Floyd and entirely missing what happened behind me as I fled the scene.

“You haven’t gotten anywhere in a month, and it only took me ten seconds.” So saying, Floyd glanced down at the Pomefiore student, who almost immediately puffed up with indignance that quickly deflated as Floyd grinned in a way that perfectly displayed his too-sharp teeth.

“You might as well just try somewhere else, ‘cause you aren’t going to be stealing Shrimpy away from me anytime soon.”