By the seven, you hated that stupidly adorable smile that fatui harbinger had. Childe had always bugged you while you were painting outside in Liyue, he would take every chance to give you a startle. He would just laugh at you and grin like a dork whenever you scolded and huffed at him. You wished you could just shut him up but he’s attached to you like a dog. Though you would be lying if you said that you didn’t enjoy his company. Childe was a fun and easy person to talk to, he had interesting views and even more interesting stories. You found yourself painting more and more ideas based off of his stories.
You sighed, trying to mix the right color to get a good orange tone. Till you felt someone sneaking up on you, you turned your head around to find Childe with a now disappointed pout.
“You weren’t supposed to look!” Childe complained, but his frown was soon wiped away when he saw your painting. He threw an arm around your shoulder and looked closer at the painting like he usually did whenever you started a new piece, you rolled your eyes continuing to mix the color. “Comrade, is this me?” The ginger asked, tilting his head.
You gave him a confused glance before looking at your painting. It was a man who looked very similar to Childe, ocean like eyes and hair that matched his own. You were just painting whatever came to mind, you didn’t even mean to paint Childe. You blinked before pursing your lips in a line. Shit. You really did paint him. You opened your mouth to explain, but nothing came out. You could only sigh and chuckle a bit.
He laughed at your reaction and gave your back a pat. “I look amazing! Is this how you see me?” He smiled. “I’m flattered, to have such an amazingly skilled artist to paint me a portrait. I’m surprised I was on your mind.” You wanted to die of embarrassment, but it did make you question.
‘Why was he on my mind?’
“This is impressive work! Maybe I should try my hand at painting, how hard can it be?”
"use chatgpt" that's the devil talking. buy four caffeinated drinks and pull an all nighter. this is the way.
In Reca's ideal film, you'd be nothing more than a toy forced to spin at the twirls of a clockwork key ; a spectacle suspended in motion, complete allegiance to his direction, again and again in the palm of his hand. In that perfect shot, you would not rebel, fist against the surface of the screen in a plea to be leg go, no, you'd be easy to control.
“Do not be absurd, my dear! Has a bug chipped away at the film in your head? You would not survive a day away from my camera.”
The friction of his glove as it clasps onto the sinews of your arms clashes against the ricocheting waves of his voice in your ears. Cut! Cut! Cut! You need not return his stare to hear the panic reverberating through his head, just as he needs not respect a fraction of your personal space.
“My thoughts are perfectly lucid, director. I no longer wish to act under your guidance.” you push him back with a finger to his chest and he allows you to, his arms falling to his sides before rising with all the melodrama of a seasoned lunatic.
“What a way to say you wish me dead!” with a sweep, he's beside your stead.
“Have you forgotten your dream, my brightest star?” a brush of his breath against your ear, a firm grasp onto your wrist as it unfolds your hand towards the phantom of your wish, “What happened to that light that brought you to me?”
His presence, annoyingly, is as engulfing as it was the first moment you had the misfortune of meeting his acquaintance. A dwindling candle in a shadowed room, its flicker is too miniscule in comparison to the tenebrous monstrosity extending its talons towards the candle's light.
Contempt is the sole benefactor that keeps it alight, burning for a moment longer. A fruitless effort — rebelling is nothing more than running closer and closer to the dead end.
“It got snuffed out.” you tilt your head towards his pointed stare, in time to bear witness to the contractions of emotions vacillating in his eyes — building up up up before bursting forth in a supernova of laughter. Your feet nearly tangle amongst themselves as you try to move away from the disturbing sight, attempt thwarted by his insistent hand.
Reca's crackles slighter to a burdened sigh, ruby eyes peek from between the crevices of the fingers of his free hand, “And, you allowed it.”
It should be incriminating for a sentence that calm to fizzle your nerves that quickly, “Non.. nonsense! It was you who clearly—”
Your heart jumps as the axis of your vision goes askance, red bleeds and paints the corners of your mind. “I did what?” the sting of his nails sinking into the flesh of your cheeks wakes you, “Come on, you can do it, love. Think. What did I do to you, clearly?”
“You... you made me into who I am today and, I can never even think of standing in front of the camera without your direction.” you heave.
“Brilliant! Just like this! If you continue performing this well, it won't be long before we can step up from these boring scenes and move onto shooting the truly heart-touching moments.” it is debatable whether your legs surrendered on their own or were forced to as the Memokeeper catches you, dragging along your limp form towards his vision.
“And when every scene has been shot, organized and edited to perfection, I'll keep it secure from everyone's grabby hands — for, this film is to be viewed by us alone.”
Hatred is the frailty of the weak, their last act of defiance before they embrace destruction. In Reca's hands, it is nothing more than a misdirection to achieve the most perfect shot, malleable to his whimsies.
IS IT A COINCIDENCE? I THINK NOT
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 .ᐣ (reupload!)
a husband's call.
ᯓ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 .ᐟ neuvillette, jing yuan, ayato, sunday x fem!reader (separate), feat. fu xuan, ayaka, thoma.
ᯓ 𝐜𝐰 .ᐟ GUESS WHO'S BAAAAACK, im so sorry for reuploading this even months after i returned, but hey guys look yet another fic that's prob been done before 😻, mentions of suicide, mentions of 'cheating' (literally nothing tho), mentions of torture and death (sunday is just a girl🎀), banter, fluff, crack, SFW, i am not very proud of this one (like wow my writing fell off here 💀), 2.7k words (yay a short one!!), god i love this trope, can y'all tell i really like sunday? 😔 rbs are appreciated!! <3
ᯓ NEUVILLETTE .ᐟ
𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 the residential wing of the Palais, swinging open the doors, marching in through the threshold and right for the parlour area.
The butler scrambled after him, frantic. “Monsieur Neuvillette, please, take a moment to calm do—”
“Where is my wife?” The Chief Justice’s voice thundered, and he continued storming through the halls. “I wish to see her. Now.”
“She’s—the Madame is in her study, Monsieur. She doesn’t wish to be distur—”
“No one is to interrupt us while I speak with my wife.” Finally, the Iudex stopped in his tracks and faced the butler. The usually calm, soft-spoken judge was icy and severe as he glared down at the frazzled attendant. “In the meantime, prepare the carriage.”
“Of course, Monsieur—but, may I ask why?”
Neuvillette heaved a sigh, and fatigue washed over his sharp features. “For the moment, please just do as I’ve ordered.”
“Oh, yes, of course…” The butler bowed three times before turning rushing off. “I shall have the coachman prepare it right away!”
The Chief Justice wasted no time in turning and heading down the hall for his wife’s study, and immediately entered without knocking.
You jumped in alarm at the abrupt slam of the door, and your book tumbled off your lap as you rushed to stand. “Neuvillette, what on ear—”
You hastily backed up as he charged toward you, startled and frightened. Oh no, what did I do? He looks furious!
“Do you know,” he began, extending a hand in a flash and grabbing your arm, pulling you toward him. Even though Neuvillette appeared utterly incensed, his grip was not bruising. It was gentle, and he swiftly curled an arm around your waist as he pressed you closely to him. “How utterly terrified I was when I received your letter?”
“What letter?” You placed a hand on chest, trying to calm him down. Those violet, slitted eyes of his were dark with untold emotions—fury, fear, and terror. You couldn’t fathom what had flustered the calm, gentle Chief Justice into such a raging state. What has happened to scare him so? You could feel his hands shaking as he gripped you tightly.
“This letter.” Neuvillette wrenched out a scrunched piece of paper from his coat pocket. “It is addressed to me from you. In your handwriting. Do you hate me so much, that you wish to torture me with such…such—”
“I never wrote this.” The contents of the letter was, yes, penned in your handwriting—at least, a very accurate forging of it—and it spoke of your apparent intentions to throw yourself off one of the cliff faces of Mount Esus. “What is this? A suicide note?” You continued reading, and you were supposedly expressing how discontent you were with being married to such an ‘exalted, unreachable’ man like Neuvillette and it had driven you into great depression.
Shaking your head, you looked up into the distressed face of your husband. “Neuvillette, I assure you, I would never write such a horrible thing as this. I’m not suicidal in the least. Not with you. You make me very happy.”
“I was scared. So scared.” The Chief Justice buried his face into the dip between your neck and shoulder, clinging to you like a frightened child would its mother. Rain lashed against the windows. One of his hands cupped the back of your head, fingers entangled in your hair. “I’ve never felt such terror in all my life. Who could be so cruel as to do this? What if they had kidnapped you, thrown you off the cliff, made it seem as if you really were miserable with me—"
You kissed the top of his head. “That won’t happen. How could you ever make me miserable? Do you know how long I prayed for a husband like you? You treat me like a queen.”
You could feel his erratic heartbeat drumming against your chest, and you threaded your fingers through his silvery locks gently. “Shall we spend the evening together? Just you and me? How about a weekend getaway?”
Butterfly kisses ghosted the skin of your nape and shoulders, and Neuvillette’s right hand dropped to clutch at your left hip. “Just as long as you’re at my side the entire time.”
“I’ll stick to you like glue,” you chuckled into his ear, and you wound your arms around his neck. “A little holiday in Liyue sounds nice. You need a break. How about it?”
“Mm,” The Iudex hummed appreciatively, emerging from your neck and he pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. His unfairly long and curly lashes cast shadows across the apples of his cheeks. “Somewhere isolated?”
You tilted your head and pressed up into him further, eyes on his mouth. “Of course. I’ve been craving some real Crystal Shrimp. And proper Liyuean tea.”
“Oh, yes,” he chuckled lowly, and he leaned in, whispering against your lips. “…It’s stopped raining.”
“I should hope so,” you smiled up at him. “You’ve got nothing to worry about now.”
ᯓ JING YUAN .ᐟ
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑-𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 had been looking all over for you, and he was starting to get worried. He’d checked all your favourite places—garden, lounge, his office, your office, library, even places downtown—but you were nowhere to be seen.
I want to play chess with her. Jing Yuan always had to be around you. That was the fact of the matter. If you weren’t around, he was down in the dumps. He was so besotted with his wife, even after centuries of marriage.
After going around in circles for a little while, the General finally came across Yanqing. “Yanqing, do you know where my wife is?”
His retainer blinked up at his master. “Uh, yes, general. She’s with Fu Xuan, in the garden. Playing chess.”
“Without me?” Jing Yuan couldn’t keep the inflection of a whine out of his tone. I’ve already checked the garden, and she wasn’t there! But, that was a few hours ago now. Aheming, Jing Yuan righted himself. “Ehem, that is to say—thank you, Yanqing. Go take a break.”
Yanqing eyed his mentor warily. “…Yes, general.”
Ignoring his novice’s look, Jing Yuan immediately made his way back to the estate gardens and searched through the hedges for you. Soon, your lovely form came into view, and the General picked up the pace.
“—Thrashing Jing Yuan,” Fu Xuan was saying, casually moving one of her chess pieces across the board. “He’s probably wandering around looking for yo—oh, General. Here you are.”
Two strong arms encircled your waist, and you were abruptly tugged into the warm chest of your husband. His shock of ivory hair brushed over your left cheek. “You promised you’d verse me later.”
“Oh, I don’t recall.” You grinned at Fu Xuan, who rolled her eyes at the General’s blatant affection as he nuzzled into your nape. “Did I? My goodness, must’ve slipped my mind.”
“Do you like Fu Xuan better than me?” he lamented, clutching you tighter. “You do, don’t you? Well, why not marry her, then?”
“I have your blessing?” You bit back your laughter, waggling your eyebrows at the huffing Diviner sitting across from you. “Well, then, don’t mind if I do.”
“Verse me in chess first,” your husband murmured, nibbling at your neck. “Then you can wed her.”
“No, I think I’ll see myself out,” Fu Xuan sighed, gathering up her things. She looked like she was about to throw up. “You two make me nauseous. Have fun, I guess.”
You bid her a chipper farewell while Jing Yuan petulantly ignored her, too occupied with you to bother paying respects to the Master Diviner of the Divination Commission. Patting his arm, you leaned your head against his comfortingly. “Alright, my future wife is gone now. We can play chess.”
Instead of letting you go and taking a seat across from you, Jing Yuan picked you up, sat down in your spot, and situated you nicely on his lap, before burying his face back into your chest. “You’re a tease. I practically turned the entire Luofu upside down looking around for you. For hours. Hours, you hear? Only to find you cheating on me with that pink-haired Diviner.”
“Cheating’s a bit of an overstatement, my dear. You want to play chess, or are you going to fall asleep on me again?”
“Chess, of course.” He made no move to follow through with it. The man was practically purring into your chest. “I won’t go easy on you.”
“Like you ever do.” You lightly massaged his scalp with your nails, running your fingers through his lovely hair, making him preen at your attention. If this man was a cat, he’d be purring like an engine right about now. “Sure you’re not going to take a quick nap first?”
“Absolutely.” Jing Yuan’s cheek was laid on your right breast, a fully innocent gesture. “Shall we?”
“We shall.” You continued gently massaging his head, feeling quite content yourself. You gave the man one minute before he fell asleep. And you were right.
You let him sleep. It was bliss—peaceful, sitting together like this. Something that, even after centuries of marriage, you could never grow used to.
ᯓ AYATO .ᐟ
“𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 my wife, Thoma?” The Yashiro Commissioner rummaged about his coat sleeves and pulled out two bobas, striding through the halls of the Kamisato Clan’s estate with purpose. “I have some bubble tea to share with her.”
Thoma smiled to himself, following behind Kamisato Ayato. “She is with Lady Ayaka at present, my lord, in your chambers. I do believe your wife will be overjoyed at your return.”
“I’ve missed her dearly.” Ayato hurried along, taking a turn and making his way toward your shared bedroom. “If you would accompany Ayaka for the rest of the afternoon while I spend time with my wife, it would be much appreciated, Thoma. I’ll get you some boba another time.”
“Don’t worry about it, my lord.” The head housekeeper tried not to grin too much at his boss’ unending antics around his beloved wife. “All that matters is you having a relaxing time with Her Ladyship.”
“Absolutely right. See? This is why you’re so reliable, Thoma. You always know exactly what to say.” Lord Ayato is in a particularly good mood today. No wonder. He just arrived home from a long trip overseas and the first thing out of his mouth once he set foot in Inazuma again was his wife’s name.
The duo stopped before a door and Ayato swiftly lifted a hand to knock. There was a shuffle, quiet words from the two women behind the door, and the patting of socked feet upon wood. The door slid open, and there you were—still in your jinbei.
“Ayato!” you exclaimed, flinging your arms around him. “It’s been months! You’re finally home! Oh, how I’ve missed you.”
“Are you alright, my dear?” Ayato didn’t get a chance to thank Thoma for quickly plucking the two bubble teas from his hands so he could hug you back. “You sound stuffy, like you’ve got an awful cold.”
You sniffled, and then coughed. Then you snivelled again. “Yes. I caught the flu two days ago. Ayaka’s been keeping me company.”
There was a soft flash of grey-blue and there his sister was behind you, beaming up at her brother. “Welcome home, brother. I trust you are well?”
“Quite well. I did not expect to come home and see you sick as a dog! Have you been taking the appropriate medicine?”
“Ayaka almost throttled me trying to get the horrid stuff down my neck.” You turned and waddled back to your and Ayato’s comfortable futon, sitting up against the pillows. He followed after you like a lovesick puppy, accepting the two bobas from Thoma. Sighing, you put your face into your elbow and coughed. “It’s…” You wheezed again. “Working.”
“We’ll leave you two to it.” Ayaka placed a hand on Thoma’s shoulder and they turned to leave. They both smiled back at both of you. “Rest up. Both of you. Brother, make sure she drinks that tonic.”
“Will do,” he said, ignoring your aggravated groan. He brushed back your hair from your forehead, and the door clicked shut. “Want some boba?”
“I love you,” you immediately said upon him handing you your bubble tea. “Marrying you was the best decision ever.”
“As long as I have boba on me, huh?”
“I can make a few exceptions.”
Ayato smiled, poking your cheek, before leaning in, heading right for your mouth. “Can I have a ki—”
A hand smacked him away. “No! You’ll catch my cold. And I’m all snotty at the moment. Drink your boba.”
“I can just get sick with you.” He shrugged. But he yielded to your request and crawled in under the covers next to you, chewing away at some tapioca pearls. “Now, tell me. What have you been up to while I was away?”
“Keeping the entire Commission afloat,” you snarked, no bite behind your words. “It was so boring without you. I didn’t have anyone to go horseback riding with in Chinju Forest.” You had a sip of your bubble tea, wiping your nose with a tissue. You relished the caramelly taste. “Anyway, how did the meeting go? Since you acted as Ambassador to the Dawn Winery, was it?”
“I did, and the relations went exceptionally well, if I do say so myself. Inazuma is bound to have an onslaught of dandelion wine within the next month.”
“Wonderful. I could use a good glass of wine.” You sighed and relaxed against your husband’s shoulder. “…I’m glad you’re home.”
“I am, too.” Ayato nuzzled you. “Are you warm?”
“Very.” You closed your eyes. You had another sip of boba. He laced your fingers together, and you smiled. Even bedridden, you were content as could be.
ᯓ SUNDAY .ᐟ
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 Head had his icy moments, but nothing compared to this. Every staff member was scared witless, shaking as they were dismissed from his presence, leaving him and his victim alone. The poor soul on the receiving end of Mr. Sunday’s placid wrath was visibly shaking.
“Now.” The Head of the Oak Family stood with his hands held tightly behind his back, staring frostily down at his target, halo glowing, having just recited his incantation for the light of the Harmony, calling on THEM. “I will ask you once more, and you will have no choice but to answer honestly. Question: where is my wife?”
“I—I don’t know! I swear—argh!” An expensive shoe pressed down on the sobbing man’s hand harshly, Sunday’s golden eyes frozen to a murderous amber. The man clutched at his head in agony. “It hurts! It hurts! Please, stop!”
“It won’t hurt if you tell the truth.” The Family Head’s voice remained as calm as an arctic sea. “Yet, you continue to refuse. Must I bloody my hands to extract my wife’s true whereabouts from you?”
“N-No, just—please…” THEIR light was shredding at the man’s thoughts. “I really don’t know!”
“Question: is your hirer a lackey of the IPC?”
“Argh—yes…” Sunday’s victim fought for breath.
“Is my wife alive?”
“…Yes…ugh…”
“Is she unharmed?”
“…I don’t…know.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“…I don’t—hngh! Yes…”
“Where is my wife?”
“I can’t tell you!”
And then the man let out a wail, mental state driven to the brink. Sunday’s fists tightened into two white-knuckled balls. “Oh, yes, you can, and you will. The Harmony rejects you. THEY reject you. Tell the truth.”
“Sh—She is…your wife is…”
“Where?”
“She’s on Penacony. Hidden in a…ugh—warehouse. Guarded. Not in the Dreamscape.”
“Where is this warehouse?”
“That…I honestly don’t know. That’s all they told me.”
Sunday narrowed his eyes, glacial, before whirling around and marching for the doors. He flung them open, and called his men in.
They stood to attention. Sunday coldly regarded each of them. “Send this man back in pieces to the IPC. Warn them that if they do not reveal my wife’s whereabouts within the next twelve hours, they will have a very big problem on their hands.” He threw a repulsed look back at the screaming man. “Shut him up for good. Make sure that all IPC delegations and influences in the Dreamscape…” The Family Head approached his desk. “Are cut off, imprisoned—or, better yet, killed.”
“Yes, sir!” One man back knocked the IPC thug out, dragging him away.
Sunday coolly clicked his pen. “Send a clear message that consequences for any inaction on their part will be dire. I want my wife back, and I want her back by tomorrow.”
all rights reserved © kisstrela 2024. do not copy, repost, redistribute, translate, plagiarise or modify my work(s) in any way on any platform. thank you.
﹒postscript : a little drabble based off this fanart by aransmind on twitter ( X ). wc 0.4k ɞ cw innuendo
you can feel a tightness around your eyes as you catch f1 racer satoru violating the regulations, again. he’s pushed a rivaling motor off the track this time, a scowling expression visible on your face.
aaand, today’s grand prix goes to gojo satoru once again! he is truly a veteran, boasting his 4th win in a row!
you shake your head, grumbling. you know nobody is going to say anything about his little antic, they never do. he’s gojo satoru after all. everything need’s to be an exception for him.
“did you see me there, pretty?” speak of the devil. the man himself is sprinting towards you with a stupid grin on his face, knowing damn well he’s about to get lectured.
“gojo.” you scowl at him. “how many times have i told you that you can’t push a motor off the track?” you press your lips together in an attempt to calm down.
“whaaaat? i don’t remember doing such thing.” he brushes you off nonchalantly. “he was in the way, anyway.”
“sat-gojo.” your ears flush a bright red color as you nearly slip up. “that’s not how it works, and you know it.”
“sa-to-ru?” gojo tantalizingly spells out his name, each syllable rolling off his tongue. “that what you were about to say, huh?” he smirks.
he was completely ignoring your warning.
“i was not!” you snort at him. “you’re such a pain in the ass, im just waiting for the day you get disqualified.” you gruff.
“me, disqualified?” gojo laughed at the thought. “mmm, maybe in a different timeline.” he cocks his head to the side, as if he’s giving it a long thought.
“you know, maybe ill rat myself out.” he looks down at you with a teasing smile, widening as he watches your eyebrows raise curiously. “if…”
“oh my god, no.” you shake your head immediately, already knowing what he’s going to say. “do you ever give up? i’ve told you no 5 times already.”
“give up? im offended you think im that easy.” gojo pouts. “come on, i know you’re just playing hard to get.” he reaches his hand out to wrap it around yohr shoulders, to which you quickly swat it away.
“aw, i thought we were buddies like that.” that menacing pout appears on his face again.
“we’re not.”
“that’s not what you said last week.”
his suggestive remark causes you to intake a sharp breath, redness spreading across your face.
“i told you we don’t talk about that!”
❝ heaven is my baby, suicide's her father, opulence is the end. ❞ - lana del rey.
various! yandere! honkai star rail men on how they claim you ~
🎀 I just wanted to make a little post which features my favorite male HSR characters lolz. Also, there's zero reason why I picked the song for the title other than the fact that it is for the ✨ aesthetic ✨!
❥ 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 !
What better way than to leave a mark on his beloved than by his mere presence alone? Jing Yuan is a simple man in his core, even if his tactical nature or even mischievous side can get carried away at times, The General is all too aware of his influence on the Lofu.
The sun could stop shining, the sky could fall and darkness could envelop the whole galaxy but not even that could erase the impact that Jing Yuan has left on you.
Wandering eyes follow you everywhere you go, quaint whispers have become a daily occurrence for you as the entirety of the Lofu knows who you lover is. Some praise and envy your position as The General is known to be handsome, kind and strong. They secretly spit at you and curse your very existence, nasty jealousy rotting them to their core as you march on like a solider to war, aimless and uncertain.
There is also of course the opposite end of the spectrum - adoring fans who just gush about your so called relationship with the dashing general. Hours are wasted scrolling away on your phone as you browse through the endless sea of lovey dovey articles, pictures taken you weren't even aware of that existed, and a plethora of other things you could even bother to remember.
All he needed to do was to just give you a nice golden collar to seal the deal. At least that would be the more obvious way of him trying to brand you as his own sweetheart.
He had his own little secret though. A velvet box was kept hidden away in his desk, ready to be opened on a special occasion.
Depending on how you got on with the general in the future, the little thing in the box was either going to make you the happiest person in the world or, he really would finally shackle you with gold.
❥ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 !
Sunday, ever the gentleman, would try to remain subtle about his feelings towards you in public. There are just some things that you do not do, nor share with the outside world.
This is a rule he always tells you to follow.
Still, all he needs to do is to speak. Honeyed words fall from his lips like candy, always so sweet, so addictive, so passionate. Even a man like Sunday, who is known for keeping his cool, cannot hide his infatuation with you. He rambles and rambles, sometimes even losing himself in his thoughts as he sings his praises for you, like the lovesick fool that he is.
Sunday likes to think that he is being cool, suave, but he is literally anything but.
Sometimes, he gets a little too carried away. Sometimes, his darker desires get the better of him, which can set you off a little. He's always so sweet and apologetic whenever he upsets you...
Please, he says through gritted teeth.
Don't mind my ramblings. They don't mean anything. Truly, they do not.
Disregard those pleas entirely as they are nothing but hollow. All one needs to do is to look into his crazed eyes, and that is where you will find out just how true everything he's saying really is.
❥ 𝐉𝐈𝐀𝐎𝐐𝐈𝐔 !
This sly fox has such a hard time keeping his hands to himself... In all honesty, can you even blame him? Whenever he sneaks up on you, Jiaoqiu cannot help but to place his hands literally anywhere on your soft body and he is not shy about showing his true feelings.
Bearing his pearly white fangs, Jiaoqiu likes to bite from time to time.
The desire to do so is further enhanced with every sweet noise you make. Now now, don't cover your mouth, be nice! Every squeal, sigh, groan, even scream are so precious to him... Don't deny him the pleasure of not being able to listen to you.
It's very cruel of you, he says with a pout.
In the cover of night, he likes to trace the markings he left on you with his tongue, maybe even adding even more marks in the process. If you bleed a little, it's all fine and dandy.
You always taste sweet to him.
And the thought of other people being able to see the red bruises which bloom into hideous purple in green bruises on your neck... My goodness, he thinks to himself.
He could just devour you whole.
He is a menace, i have no proof but i have no doubt
FLUSTERED.
you can’t believe how easy it is for him to fluster you (you’re just gonna blame it on the fact it’s your first meeting with him).
pairing: ayato/gender neutral reader
category/warnings: arranged marriage, first meeting, fluff ig, ayato is hot, ayato has long hair, ayato is taller than the reader, ayato kisses the reader on their hand and the reader is nervous throughout the whole fic ure welcome
note: anyways please wish me luck on my history test today i really dont want to retake it bro
nervous. that’s the word that best describes the state that you’re in right now. nervous and a little bit excited.
you’ve heard stories about kamisato ayato — a lot of them, to be precise. who didn’t? the head of the kamisato clan, the yashiro commissioner, the leader of the shuumatsuban; yes, you’ve heard stories of him but never met him in person. and that is precisely why you’re nervous — because you’re supposed to soon marry someone you didn’t meet before. and now that you’re waiting for him, you start wondering how have you never meet him yet considering you’re so close with ayaka?
“don’t worry,” she tries to make you less nervous. admittedly, she fails but you don’t have the heart to tell her that. “oh, you see? there he is!” she whispers in your ear and gestures in front of you.
and there he is indeed. walking in your direction, with his head held up high and a confident walk.
you get more and more nervous with every step he takes and so when he finally stands in front of you, you forget how you’re supposed to act.
“hello, it is a pleasure to meet you,” he says and his voice is smooth and rich; it reminds you of honey. he has a curious glint in his eye. “hello, sister,” he adds while smiling at ayaka, to which she nods at him.
you three stand in silence for a good minute, with your friend’s brother’s eyes never leaving your figure. the girl is the one to break the silence first.
“i’m going to leave you to it,” she says and quickly bids the two of you goodbye.
it’s going to go great!, she mouths while backing away.
now that you’re left alone, you look at the man in front of you more closely. he’s attractive. oh archons, he’s extremely attractive. and he’s tall, overwhelmingly so; his figure seems to loom over yours and you feel oh so small. his hair is tied up in a high ponytail with two strands adorning his face from both sides — he’s a handsome man. he’s a very handsome man and he’s looking at you so intensely you want to disappear.
“hello,” you answer. your voice is visibly nervous and you curse yourself for it.
“may i?” he asks while gesturing to take your hand. you allow him, lifting it in his direction yourself. he delicately takes it in his own and brings it up to his lips — and you suddenly feel like you can’t breathe and you feel your cheeks heat up. he kisses your knuckles while never breaking the eye contact and you’re so caught up in the act of what is happening that you forget how close and how intimate the position you are in is.
“i have a feeling we’re going to get along quite well,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, not letting your hand out of his hold. his eyes are piercing and you have to look away. you try to calm down your beating heart — damn it, why were you so easy to fluster?
kamisato ayato is gonna be the end of you.
Children of lost civilizations
Forgor to post it here. Platonic kokokae!!! My sad little babies <33