nelle-y

[nelle-y]

A love story told through voicelines (Bonus Character Story!)

C/W: MDNI!, Diluc x GN!Reader, long intro, soft dom!Diluc, slow pacing, aftercare, mild praise, oral (reader receiving), penetrative sex, hair pulling (Diluc), Diluc is a whimpering mess, deep emotional connection, established feelings, not proofread

Word count: ≈2.8k

Note: first time writing smut omg did I do a good job?

I recommend reading part 5 of this series first so you can have full context!

(You and Diluc) Character story: What about us?

You were back at the manor now, emotions still lingering from what you heard. Diluc was with you, preparing a drink in the kitchen. You stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching as he worked with quiet precision. His crimson hair fell slightly into his eyes, the soft glow of the lantern light giving him an almost ethereal quality. It struck you how at home he looked here—how natural he was in the space that once felt so foreign to you after leaving.

“Your favorite,” he said without looking up. His voice was low and familiar, a sound that wrapped around you like a warm embrace. “I thought you might need something to settle your nerves. All that running must have tired you out,” he chuckled.

How was it that he could still read you so effortlessly? “Thank you,” you murmured, taking the cup he offered. His hand brushed against yours for the briefest moment, sending a spark up your arm.

The two of you stood there for a while, neither speaking, the silence between you heavy but not uncomfortable. You let the chill of the drink seep into your hands, grounding yourself for the conversation you knew had to happen.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Diluc…”

He glanced up at you, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that never failed to catch you off guard. “Yes?”

“What happens now?” The question hung in the air, fragile yet heavy with meaning. “With us, I mean. What are we to each other?”

His brows furrowed slightly, and he set his own drink down on the counter. “I’ve been thinking about that too,” he admitted. “I don’t want us to go back to how things were before,” he continued after a moment. “I don’t want to be the person who pushes you away because of my own fears. But I also don’t want to rush into something we’re not ready for. I want us to build something… real.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in your chest. “But what does that mean for us now? Are we starting over? Or picking up where we left off?”

He stepped closer to you, his presence filling the space between you. “We can’t go back to where we were,” he said softly. “And I don’t want to pretend that the things that happened—the mistakes we made—never existed. I want to move forward with you, but I want to do it right this time.”

“Right,” you echoed, searching his eyes. “That sounds… safe.”

His lips curved into the faintest smile. “In a way, yes.”

You set your drink on the counter, your hands shaking slightly for no apparent reason. “I don’t want safe, Diluc,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. “I want you. All of you. Even the parts that scare you to show me.”

His breath hitched at your words, and for a moment, the mask he so often wore slipped away entirely. “You have me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve always had me. But I want to make sure you’re ready too. I don’t want to hold you back, or… suffocate you.”

You took a step closer, the distance between you shrinking until there was barely a breath of space left. The air between you crackled with tension, heavy with unspoken words and the ache of all that had been left unsaid. “You don’t suffocate me,” you said firmly. “You challenge me. You make me want to be better. And yes, sometimes you frustrate me to no end. But that’s what makes this worth it. You’re worth it.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, his crimson eyes searching yours as if trying to memorize every detail of your face. The vulnerability in his gaze was raw, unguarded—a side of him he rarely let anyone see.

Slowly, his hand lifted, fingers brushing against your cheek in a touch so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine. His thumb traced a soft line along your skin, as though grounding himself in the moment.

“Say it again,” he said, his voice trembling slightly.

“Say what?” you whispered, though you already knew the answer.

“That I’m worth it,” he breathed, his forehead coming to rest against yours. “Because I need to hear it.”

“You are worth it,” you said, the words spilling out like a vow, your voice trembling with emotion. “You’re worth everything.”

His breath hitched, and before you could say anything more, he closed the final distance between you. His lips captured yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle—it was desperate, unrestrained, and overflowing with everything he had been holding back. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was an apology, a confession, and a plea all at once.

You gasped against his mouth, your hands gripping his shoulders as if to anchor yourself in the intensity of it. He deepened the kiss, his hand sliding to the back of your neck while his other settled on your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. The world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you in that moment, bathed in the warm glow of the lantern light.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads still pressed together as you tried to steady yourselves. His fingers lingered on your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen.

It was then silent as you both took in the flavor of that kiss. “Ah—“ Diluc pulled back, face flushed from either embarrassment or the heat of the moment. You couldn’t tell. All you knew was that he looked enchanting. “I’m sorry, that was… very sudden.”

“No, no! It was…” you urged him closer to you. “Do it again, please.” Your voice was nothing less of a breath. It was strange how relieving it felt—how natural. Maybe you’ve been wanting to do it for a while, who knows?

Diluc’s eyes widened at your words, his expression wavering between surprise and something softer, deeper. His gaze searched yours for any trace of uncertainty, but all he found was quiet sincerity. Slowly, his lips parted as if to say something, but no words came. Instead, he let his actions speak.

With a gentleness that contrasted the fervor of the first kiss, he leaned in once more. His hand, still resting on your cheek, tilted your face slightly upward, and the touch of his lips was soft this time—tender and deliberate. It was no longer an overflow of emotion but rather a conversation without words, each press of his lips telling you how much he had been holding back, how deeply he felt, and how much he wanted this—wanted you.

Your hands slid from his shoulders to the nape of his neck, fingers gracing the ends of his hair as you melted into him. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, the rest of the world fading into nothingness. There was only the warmth of his embrace, the quiet rhythm of your shared breaths, and the unspoken promise that lingered between you.

Caught in the flow of the moment, your hands slip to the back of his head, your fingers tangling in his soft locks. On instinct, you gave a little tug—and his response was immediate. Diluc stifled a low, unguarded groan against your lips. The sound was quiet, yet it sent a shiver through you. It was unexpected, raw, and utterly intoxicating—for both of you.

You broke off the kiss, though keeping your lips almost touching. “Are you okay? Did you not like that?”

“I…” Diluc thought for a moment, then chuckled against your neck. “My, you’ve got me feeling so many things. I did like it… strangely.”

“Should I do it again?” The question was blatant, casual yet expecting. You lifted his face to meet yours. “Upstairs, maybe?”

Diluc’s crimson eyes widened for a moment before his expression softened, his lips twitching upward in the faintest of smiles. “Upstairs… you really are bold,” he murmured, the faint blush on his cheeks deepening.

You tilted your head, teasingly brushing your fingers over his jawline. “So, is that a yes, or do you need me to convince you a little more?”

He quivered slightly, and he cleared his throat, trying to maintain some composure. “I wouldn’t mind being… convinced.” His words were soft, and yet you could hear the unspoken excitement beneath them.

You grinned and leaned closer, your lips grazing his ear as you whispered, “Then let’s take this somewhere a little more private.”

He hesitated only a moment before nodding, his gloved hand finding yours as you led him toward the staircase. The tension in the air thickened with every soft footfall, anticipation buzzing between you both like an unspoken promise.

—

Your breath was hot above him, bouncing off of Diluc’s skin as he groaned near your ear. It started with his shirt, then yours, followed by his unbuckled pants and the rest of what clothed you, until the cold Mondstadt air enveloped your bodies with chills that shook your chest.

Diluc’s gaze traced every curve of your body, reverence flickering in his wine-red eyes. His breath hitched, his gloved hands twitching at his sides as if torn between the desire to touch and the overwhelming awe that rooted him in place. The flickering candlelight cast golden shadows across your skin, and for a moment, he simply drank you in—each delicate contour, each rise and fall of your chest.

His lips parted slightly, though no words came, only the quiet shudder of his breath as his fingers finally found your waist, gliding hesitantly over your skin as if committing every inch of you to memory. His usual composure had crumbled, replaced by something raw, something utterly devoted.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, almost breathless, as though the words themselves were too small to capture the admiration in his voice. His grip tightened, pulling you impossibly closer, his gaze locked onto yours as if you were the only thing that had ever truly mattered.

With a kiss, he carried you below him, touch so gentle you could tell he was afraid you’d break. He settled himself between your legs, lips hovering over yours for just a moment longer, as if savoring the way your breath mingled with his. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he trailed downward, his touch featherlight yet searing. Every kiss, every brush of his fingertips, sent a current of heat pooling deep within you—an unspoken promise in the way he worshipped your body with fervor.

“Diluc…” His name comes out as a little more than a breath, but he hears it loud and clear. His warm sigh ghosts over your skin, each exhale carrying a mix of restraint and veneration. It’s unsteady—hot, heavy, betraying the calm façade he always wears.

“May I?” He spoke, sultry, soft, lavish with no end. You nod through parted lips, chest rising and falling from desperation.

He starts at your thigh, the first letter of his name traced with the softest brush of his lips.

D.

His tongue follows next, slow and deliberate, gliding across your skin in a path downward. It’s warm, tasting, savoring—like he’s memorizing the very essence of you.

I.

A sigh slips from your lips, unbidden, sweet and breathless. The sound is quiet yet electric, the kind of thing that sends a shiver through him, the kind that makes him ache with the need to hear more.

L.

His hands tighten, fingertips pressing against your skin, as though grounding himself in the moment. His pace never quickens—no, he’s patient, methodical, teasing. Every touch, every lingering kiss builds, anticipation curling through you like a slow-burning ember.

U.

And then—

C.

Your palms tug as his roots as waves build up within you, and crashing down with every breath you release. He feels you pulsing around his fingers, his tongue discerning every pulse you lay upon him. A deep hum vibrates against your skin, his lips curling into something between a smirk and a sigh. You arch, his name falling from your lips once more, and this time, he answers not with words, but with devotion.

He keeps his mouth against your center, only latching out once your breathing settles. You run your fingers through his hair as he lays his cheek against your thigh. Diluc grew starstruck, his eyes tracing over every inch of you with something akin to reverence. His breath, still uneven, fanned across your skin as he remained there, lingering as if he never wanted to part from you.

He let his fingers ghost over your hip, mapping the warmth of your skin, memorizing the way you trembled under his touch. His usual composure was gone, stripped away by the intimacy of the moment, leaving behind only raw admiration—devotion painted across his face as if you were something sacred.

“You’re breathtaking,” he murmured at last, voice low and laced with something deeper than desire. It was worship, pure and unfiltered. His thumb traced absent patterns against your stomach, his lips parting as if he had more to say but found himself lost in the sight of you.

“C’mere,” you reach your arms out to embrace him. He didn’t hesitate, shifting up to meet you as you pulled him into your embrace. The heat of your bodies melded together as you settled atop him, feeling the way his chest rose and fell beneath you, still unsteady from his devotion moments ago.

But the second your hand wandered lower, brushing against his arousal, a sharp gasp broke from his lips. His head tilted back, a deep moan spilling from his throat, raw and unrestrained. His back arched instinctively, his hands gripping your waist as if he didn’t know whether to still you or pull you closer.

“Y-you—” His voice faltered as you did it again, the friction stealing his breath.

You leaned in, lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Relax, love.”

And yet, relaxation was the last thing he could manage when you finally took him in. His hands trembled where they held you, his breath ragged as you sank down onto him. A strangled moan tore from his throat, his fingers pressing deep into your skin as he struggled to hold himself together.

At first, your movements were slow, teasing, drawing out his pleasure with a softness that had him unraveling under you. But soon, that tenderness gave way to something more desperate. More demanding. Your pace quickened, rocking against him with an intensity that left him gasping, moaning, hands tightening on your hips as he tried to ground himself in the sensation of you.

His voice was a beautiful mess—breathless, deep, and utterly lost in pleasure. Every time you moved, he keened beneath you, his moans broken, needy, completely unlike the composed man the world knew him as.

“Please—” The word came out as a gasp, his head falling back, exposing the pale column of his throat to you.

“Feels good?” You teased, though your own voice trembled, your body tingling with heat.

He barely managed to nod before his grip tightened, his hips stuttering up into yours, desperate to meet your movements. The pace grew erratic, pleasure consuming you both until all that was left were gasps, moans, and the sound of skin meeting skin in the dimly lit room.

And when it was over—when you both lay spent, tangled together, breathless and trembling—Diluc pulled you close, pressing a kiss against your temple. His fingers traced gentle circles against your back, grounding you, soothing you.

“This is the part where you need me,” he murmured, voice still hoarse from everything you had pulled from him. His body was still warm, his breath fanning against your hair as he pressed lazy kisses to your forehead, your temple, anywhere he could reach without moving too much. “Are you alright?” he asked after a moment, voice still thick with exhaustion yet laced with unmistakable concern.

You hummed, pressing a soft kiss against his collarbone. “More than alright.”

A quiet chuckle escaped him, and you could feel the way his chest rumbled beneath you. “Good.” His hands continued their slow, soothing strokes along your back, fingers tracing gentle patterns as if he wanted to memorize every inch of you in this moment.

And as the night stretched on, you remained wrapped in each other’s warmth, the world outside fading away until all that was left was the quiet sound of your heartbeats, steady and in sync.

—end—

Note: would I write smut again? Idk tbh my digital footprint is already pretty wild

[nelle-y]

A love story told through voicelines (Alhaitham ver.) II

C/W: alhaitham x gn!reader, not that slow of a burn, characters find the other annoying, reader is a teacher at the akademiya, heavily implied past intimacy (nsfw), not proofread

Note: does this count as smut?-

Part 1

—

(You) About Alhaitham: Heartdrops

Every time I hear his name, my heart drops.

It’s ridiculous, really. I should be over this—over him. But then he speaks, and I feel it again. That same pull, that same tension, like a string wound too tight. He steps too close, and my breath hitches before I can stop it. His touch lingers for just a second too long, and suddenly, I’m back there.

That night was supposed to mean nothing. A lapse in judgment, a mistake to forget. And yet, here we are—standing too close, pretending we don’t remember.

But I do. And so does he.

(Alhaitham) About you: Heartdrops

Emotions are irrational, transient things—disruptive, even. I’ve never had an issue keeping them at bay. But with them… it’s different.

There’s an odd satisfaction in watching them try—and fail—to conceal their reactions. The way their breath catches when I step too close, the way their gaze lingers despite their attempts to seem unaffected. It would be amusing, if it didn’t leave me with a peculiar sense of déjà vu.

After all, I remember that night just as well as they do.

(You) About Alhaitham: Contemplation

I should’ve known better than to think he’d stay gone forever. Alhaitham never does anything without reason, so why now? Why after all these years?

It’s not as if I haven’t enjoyed this—whatever this is—but I’m not naive. He’s deliberate with his words, his actions, the way he leans in just enough to make me wonder if it’s intentional. I should walk away before I get caught in whatever game he’s playing.

… And yet, every time he looks at me like that, I hesitate.

(Alhaitham) About you: Contemplation

Patterns exist in everything—human behavior is no exception. I’ve spent enough time studying them to recognize the subtleties: the way their fingers twitch when I brush too close, the way their eyes dart away a second too late. They try to act indifferent, yet their body betrays them.

So, for the sake of curiosity, I’ve decided to conduct an experiment. A hypothesis, if you will. If I push just a little further, lean just a little closer… how will they respond?

Purely for observation, of course. Nothing more.

(You) About Alhaitham: Excuses

He’s barely in his office. I was looking for him the other day, and his desk was practically dust! Honestly, it’s harder to catch him actually working than on a break.

Why was I looking for him? It’s nothing—I was just going to ask something. Let me know if you see him, okay?

(Alhaitham) About you: Excuses

So they’re looking for me? That’s unexpected. After all that talk of wanting me away from them. Though I wonder—was it truly work-related, or were they simply using that as an excuse?

Regardless, if they have something to ask, they know where to find me. And if not… well, I suppose I can make an exception and save them the trouble.

(You) Character story: An Instant

“I heard you wanted to see me,” said Alhaitham in his usual condescending tone. He rested against the doorway of your classroom, a smug grin contrasting his uninterested gaze.

“I wasn’t looking—and yet, here you are.” That may be a half-truth—you only looked in his office, and gave up right after—but he doesn’t have to know that. You just hope the traveler hasn’t tattled.

“Here I am.” he looked away, “The traveler told me you were looking, though.” Damn it. His feet took a few paces closer, now facing you as you leaned on your desk. “I find it pitiful having to tolerate your half-truths to save face.”

“You do? Stange. I thought you liked it, given how you come back to my lectures all the time, placing comeback after comeback. You do have the liberty to interlope someone else’s class, am I correct?”

“Truly.”

“So why choose my class to squander?” Your words were quick—almost interrogative—and his frigid demeanor nearly faltered at your attacks.

His silence was rare, but you caught it—the slight twitch of his brow, the way his lips parted as if considering his words more carefully than usual.

Then, he leaned in.

It was subtle at first, but suddenly, you were hyperaware of everything—the way the dim glow of the afternoon light cast shadows against his features, the way the air felt heavier between you, the way his gaze flickered to your lips for just a second too long.

It should have been nothing. A natural proximity in a confined space.

But then, images of that night drew clearly in your mind. How his lips pressed the crease of your own, every bit of skin rising from his touch. How his gaze burned something within you. How you fit so perfectly. Eyes locked with his, you let this feeling eat you alive, blurring what surrounded you and leaving the room with only you and him.

Your breath hitched.

Alhaitham’s sharp sight didn’t miss that. His smirk deepened, smug and knowing.

“Hm.” His voice was lower now, almost amused. “Interesting.”

You exhaled sharply, regaining your footing before your thoughts could spiral into something irredeemable. “Don’t act so pleased with yourself.”

“I’m not.” He tilted his head, studying you like a problem he had yet to solve. “But I am curious.”

You remind yourself of who was in front of you; a man who was always two steps ahead. The man whose arrogance boiled holes into your bloodstream. The man whose said arrogance brought you life.

It was infuriating how he always managed to do this—how he could toe the line between challenge and something much more dangerous. You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of your desk for stability. “If you’re done wasting my time, Alhaitham, you can leave.”

He didn’t move at first.

Then, as if entertained by your sudden shift, he exhaled a quiet chuckle and straightened.

“As you wish.”

And just like that, the moment passed, leaving only a lingering heat in its wake.

You were, very much, in trouble.

(Alhaitham) Character story: Unraveling Consequences

For once, the quick-witted scribe was at a loss for words.

He never expected his little experiment to feel so heated.

It was supposed to be a simple test—a controlled observation of their reactions, an analysis of what lay beneath their carefully guarded exterior. And yet, when their breath hitched, when their fingers curled just slightly against the desk, when the heat of that memory flickered so obviously in their gaze—

Something in him faltered.

That was not part of the hypothesis.

Alhaitham prided himself on his ability to maintain control, to remain unaffected by the distractions of sentimentality. Emotions were, at their core, disruptions—variables that compromised efficiency and clouded rational thought. But when he leaned in and saw them break—even if just for a second—

It felt like he had reached an answer he hadn’t meant to find.

He should leave it at that. He had his results, his confirmation. He had nothing more to gain from indulging this.

And yet…

His feet hesitated at the threshold.

His mind, ever calculating, considered a new problem:

If that was their reaction to mere proximity… what would happen if he pushed just a little further?

He exhaled, shaking his head.

Hah. Now they were becoming troublesome.

And for the first time in his life, he wasn’t entirely sure if he minded.

—

Note: PLEASE GOD LEAVE REQUESTS ON HOW I COULD CONTINUE THIS

[nelle-y]

A love story told through voicelines (Alhaitham ver.) I

C/W: alhaitham x gn!reader, not that slow of a burn, characters find the other annoying, reader is a teacher at the akademiya (Vahumana), they have history (iykyk), one nsfw innuendo, not proofread

Note: my humiliating attempt at writing Alhaitham’s smart ahh attitude >A< anw, lmk how you guys want this story to go! (comments and reblogs are encouraged and appreciated)

Part 2

—

(You) About Alhaitham

Scribe Alhaitham? He’s… intelligent. That’s all I have to say.

(Alhaitham) About you

Hm.

(You) About Alhaitham: History I

He and I partnered up in a thesis which, thankfully, got approved by our professors. Working with him was challenging, to be honest. Every idea I had, he’d shut it down with some counter argument—“they’d never approve of that,” or “it has too many defects.” A conversation with him may as well be a debate! Frustrating and infuriating.

(Alhaitham) About you: History I

They are competent, I’ll admit that much. But their ideas? Flawed. Reckless. It’s as if they refuse to consider consequences before leaping into action. Every discussion turned into an exhausting debate—because, naturally, I had to be the one to explain why their half-formed theories wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny.

Really, for someone who specializes in history, you’d think they’d have learned from past mistakes. And yet, they persist.

(You) About Alhaitham: History II

Talking about this in my place of work is not really appropriate. … Fine! Yes, we were in… amorous congress. But it happened a long time ago—when we were still students. Just once. A drunken mistake, that’s all it was!

… Keep this between us, though. I love my job.

(Alhaitham) About you: History II

I’d rather this particular detail remain in the past where it belongs. It was years ago, an irrelevant event. I fail to see why anyone would find it worth discussing now.

Though, knowing them, they’d likely frame it as some dramatic mistake rather than what it was—an ill-advised but ultimately inconsequential decision. Either way, I don’t intend to entertain the conversation.

… You think I should drop by? Hm, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to evaluate their current methodology.

(You) About Alhaitham: Work

It’s inevitable that we cross paths—he’s the Akademiya’s Scribe, after all. I can handle brief interactions, but when he lingers, it’s… bothersome. Always with that unreadable expression, listening too intently to everything I say. I know he’s just waiting to poke holes in my arguments. Ugh. Some things never change.

(Alhaitham) About you: Work

They have an irritating tendency to be vague, as if I won’t immediately notice the gaps in their reasoning. Do they think that being imprecise will make me less inclined to argue? If anything, it has the opposite effect.

I don’t intend to debate them at every opportunity, but when they make it so easy, I see no reason to hold back.

(You) About Alhaitham: Annoyance

Do you know how aggravating it is to give a lecture, only to see him sitting there in the back, arms crossed, silently judging every word that comes out of my mouth? He doesn’t even work in my Darshan! What is he doing there?! “It was on my way,” he says. “I had time to spare,” he says. Liar.

Having the Scribe in my classroom is distracting—both for me and my students. I’d appreciate it if he found a different way to pass the time. Preferably far away from my lectures.

(Alhaitham) About you: Observation

I fail to understand how they manage to get results. Their lectures lack structure, their methods are inconsistent, and yet… their students actually retain information. It goes against all logic.

Still, I suppose there’s something to be said about efficacy, no matter how unorthodox. Not that I’ll be admitting that to them. They’re insufferable enough as it is.

(You) About Alhaitham: A Final Thought

I swear, he only comes to my lectures to irritate me. He just sits there, arms crossed, waiting for me to say something he can nitpick. It’s distracting. The other day, I caught myself scanning the room to see if he was there before I even started teaching. Ridiculous.

…No, that doesn’t mean anything! It’s just easier to prepare for battle when you know the enemy is near!

(Alhaitham) About you: A Final Thought

They’ve developed an odd habit of pausing mid-lecture, glancing toward the back of the room—toward me. If I were to be charitable, I’d say they’re checking whether I have any objections.

But that would imply they value my opinion. Which, of course, is absurd.

(Your student) About you and the Scribe

… So, uh. Are those two dating or something?

[nelle-y]

Just read through all the Diluc voiceline series and it was the cutest thing ever! Just wanted to let you know and you're a good writer^^

Thank you so much <3 I’m glad you like it!

[nelle-y]

DAY 28 — VAMPIRE AU

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — diluc

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, vampire au, reader is a little delulu, mentions of blood & blood drinking, rough and very passionate

vampire diluc who has never experienced a real, centered moment of happiness before meeting you— or at least not without turning into a cruel, evil monster, whose intention was to drain the blood of others.

but now he revels in your beauty, and he thinks you're intoxicating, tainting your mind with his small compliments.

when you see him, you cannot help yourself but feel frightened, yet also excited— and you wonder if something has been wrong with you all along, especially when you let him get closer to you, the cold breeze outside your window bristling over the dry leaves as you're solely focusing on the view in front of you, your breathing continuing to escalate as he sinks into your warmth.

vampire diluc who hides his face in your neck as his cock drags with a lack of purpose other than thrusting a maddening fusion of thrill and pleasure into you, your eye sight becoming blurred each moment you taste his roughness in your body with his erection twitching within your walls in searing need to release— for a solid minute, he ponders and caresses the sensitive flesh on your neck, his sharp canines like a feather crossing over the skin.

vampire diluc knows you would let him do it, meaning you'd approve of him tasting your blood on his tongue— and it somewhat terrifies him, actually, that you're willing to go through that for him. there was a small tug on your hips, then a squeeze, with the scarlet haired pushing you into him before he slows his movements for a bit, "tell me if it hurts," he mutters finally, "i cannot hold myself back.. any longer," his voice webbed in grit and stones that you're vibrating all over the second he mouths wet spots over your neck.

"i will," you whisper back, watching him nuzzle his face closer, "i want this.. want you," an instinctual feeling was urging you to hold yourself steadily against his body, your breath erratic yet your eyes, they told a different story because they, for one, were glimmering with an emotion everyone could easily discern— it's pure excitement, glittering beneath the humid air.

vampire diluc who proceeds slowly, parting his lips ever so slightly before pressing his sharp canines into your flesh, immersing his teeth deeper until he opens a little spot to hollow his cheeks on before making contact with a taste of metal, a taste vampire diluc was utterly familiar with— and ugh, he knew you'd taste better than any other before, he was aware that you're so special, from inside and out.

your breath hitches as a new warmth embraces you, his hands on every inch of your skin as he repeats his thrusts on you while never letting go of your flesh between his teeth— the tug on your skin was stinging a little and the feeling of getting blood pulled out of you was frankly, something you thought you never had to experience in life.

but.. it feels nice, exciting, and it urges your cheeks to burn hot, for some reason it makes you feel so full when he drinks from you together with crowding you to the hilt with his erection— long and thick and just so right.

regardless, it has you seeing stars and copious amounts of planets flickering throughout the universe— his entire weight on you, molding his front into you while pinning your breasts against his broad chest, whereas his hand— hot to the every last trace, lays flat over the plush side of your ass, the softness of your body forevermore melting into the soft ridges of his.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[nelle-y]

Imagine having been with Zhongli for a while now, and you're suspicious about his true identity. So you decide to stage a confrontation when the two of you are alone at Wuwang Hill one night.

"I know what you are."

Zhongli stiffens, a little perturbed by the seriousness in your tone. The blue wisps of light dancing around you two cast an eerie glow upon the scene, which happens to be unfolding in the dead of night. He clears his throat. "Please, enlighten me, my dear."

You continue, looking him square in the eye. "Your skin is pale, and...alright, admittedly not cold. You never seem to need sleep. You only wear dark colors, and you have a refined manner of speaking and thinking, almost like...you come from another time."

Outwardly, Zhongli maintains his composure, though in his head he's already going through numerous ways he can gently break the news to you without you passing out.

"You really like silk flowers, which are red...like blood," you say excitedly. "Your eyes are unnaturally amber. Blood also comes in shades of amber, sometimes."

Your lover's brows are furrowed now. He only becomes even more perplexed when you start taking off the scarf around your neck, unraveling it slowly. "Darling, it's cold tonight-"

"So, you're a vampire, aren't you?" you cut in pointedly, a triumphant grin plastered on your face. "I should have known! I suspected it all along."

Zhongli blinks. "Er...pardon?"

Your grin widens. "Now that I know, please don't think I'll be scared of you! I've always been into supernatural creatures. So...feel free to drink my blood whenever you please!" You bare your neck to him, practically giddy. "But be gentle, it's my first time!"

When the appalled Zhongli reveals his real identity as the Prime of Adepti, God of Contracts, and former Geo Archon, you merely sigh, upset at having gotten it wrong.

[nelle-y]

Welt’s best pickup line:

“Please… call me Welt.”

[nelle-y]

A love story told through voicelines (V)

C/W: slow-burn, Diluc x gn!reader, reader works at the flower shop in Mondstadt, fluff, shorter than the rest but that’s because it’s the end

Note: The story comes to a close! Thank you all so much for your support, I couldn’t have done it without you guys🫶🏻 If you have some ideas for other fics, feel free to leave a request in my inbox! (Part 1) (Part 4)

(You) About Diluc: Reflections

I’ve been thinking a lot about our fight. I don’t know if it was the heat of the moment or my own pride, but I said things I shouldn’t have. I called him stubborn, like his concern for me was some kind of flaw. He didn’t deserve that!

But when he called me reckless… it stung. I wanted to defend myself, to tell him I could handle it, but deep down, I knew he was right. I was reckless. I got hurt because I wasn’t careful, and instead of thanking him for worrying about me, I threw it back in his face.

I know he was just trying to protect me. That’s who he is—he takes on the weight of the world, and I made it even heavier with my words. I was so caught up in proving I didn’t need him hovering over me that I forgot how much he cares.

If I could go back, I’d say something different. Or maybe… I’d just listen. He didn’t deserve my anger. He deserved better.

(Diluc) About you: Reflections

My thoughts are quite repetitive when it comes to them, and maybe that’s how I drove them away—by caring more about their safety instead of them. I didn’t mean to hurt them, but seeing the scar on their arm reminds me of how much I could lose with one careless act. It was unbearable. And I let that fear dictate my words.

I know I can be overbearing. They’ve told me before that I control too much, and that I was… incredibly stubborn. Maybe they’re right. I wanted to protect them, but I didn’t stop to think about how they felt, what they needed from me in that moment. I acted as if I knew best, and in doing so, I ignored the trust we’ve built.

If I could go back, I’d handle it differently. I’d find the right words, words that wouldn’t hurt them. But now… all I can do is hope I haven’t broken something I can’t repair.

(You) About work

I’ve been trying to get back into the rhythm of working at Flora’s shop, but… it feels strange. The flowers are the same, the customers are the same, but something feels off. Maybe it’s me. Or maybe it’s the weight of everything that happened at the manor. I keep catching myself glancing toward the road leading to Angel’s Share, wondering if he’s okay, or if… he even cares.

*sigh* I need to focus. These asters aren’t going to arrange themselves.

(Diluc) About you: From afar

I passed by Flora’s shop today, and I saw them working as usual, but… quieter. Seeing them brought it all back—those quiet moments at the winery, their laughter, the way they always managed to surprise me. It’s unbearable, how much I miss them.

I almost stepped in, but quickly retreated. What would I even say? “I’m sorry”? Would that even matter by now? I’m sure they’re mad at me—maybe furious. And I’m sure… if I could change anything, I would change even the night I resigned from my position as Cavalry Captain if it meant bringing them back.

(You) About Diluc: Finally aware

I saw him today, you know. Well, not saw as in meet with—he just passed by. He didn’t come in; though strangely, I took a step in his direction. Out of habit, I suppose. I don’t think he noticed me… and why would he? After everything… Ugh! Why am I still dwelling on it? It’s not like I’m waiting for him or anything.

He’s just so… stuck. In my mind. I keep hoping to see him, even just for a moment. I miss eating with him, and trying to make him laugh. I miss the flowers that we took care of in the winery. I miss Adelinde.

I miss him…

And it’s infuriating, because I was the one who left. I needed space. I chose to leave the winery because it felt like too much. So why? Why does he linger like this? Why does every passing memory of him feel so sharp, so close, like it was yesterday?

I don’t know what this is. I thought leaving would bring me peace, but it’s only made me realize how deeply he’s rooted in me. I don’t know if I can ever let him go, even if I should.

…Could it be? Could this feeling—this aching pull—be love?

No… not could. It is. I love him.

(Diluc) About you: Finally aware

I need your thoughts on something. It’s… rather personal. For some time now, I’ve found myself increasingly distracted by them—always thinking about their safety, their well-being, even their smallest habits. Every little thing they do seems to pull at my attention. At first, I dismissed it as concern, but it’s different—stronger.

When I spoke to Adelinde about it, she said it sounded like love. Love. I… I don’t know what to make of that. But the more I think about it, the more everything starts to make sense—why I can’t stand the thought of them being hurt, why their smile lingers in my mind long after they’re gone.

I’ve even gone as far as to read about it in novels from Inazuma, though I’ll admit most of them are overly dramatic. Still… I couldn’t help but see myself in the pages. And now I can’t ignore it anymore.

This is love, isn’t it? I can’t believe it took me so long to realize. But… it’s oddly comforting, too, to finally understand why I feel this way. It all feels clearer now.

… I can’t let it end like this. I’ll speak to them, no matter what it takes.

(You and Diluc) Character story: Confessions

The day was drawing to a close, and the horizon burned with hues of amber and crimson as the sun dipped below the mountains. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting.

They didn’t know why they were running—only that their feet carried them forward. Wind gracing their hair, tugging at their clothes, and each breath coming quick and sharp with the patter of their feet. Were they running to the winery? They haven’t really thought about it. They were just chasing the closest thing that felt like home.

Inside the manor, Diluc sat at his desk, quill hovering over an unfinished report. He’d been staring at the same sentence for far too long, his mind elsewhere. His eyes kept straying to the lamp grass resting in a small vase—“For when nights are long, and the weight feels heavy—may these remind you that you’re not alone.”

In a breath, the quill laid flat on his desk, ink leaving a stain that may or may not come off. He didn’t care, though—he had other business to attend to. One that could change his life, for better or for worse.

As he ran, he thought of what to say. He’d gone over the words a dozen times in his head, but nothing ever seemed quite right. Every thought felt too small, too simple to convey the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

The crimson sky had turned to blue, stars slowly forming like the constellations they once had. They both remembered that night—their head on his shoulder with only nature to accompany them, silent, and sanctified.

The moon hung low in the sky by the time they crossed paths on the dirt road. Neither had planned for this exact moment, yet it felt inevitable, as if fate itself had intervened.

They stopped a few paces apart, both breathless—Diluc from his hurried strides, and them from their sprint. For a moment, neither spoke. The quiet hum of the wind wrapped around them, heavy with all the words they hadn’t yet said.

“I…” they muttered, but their voice caught. After a breath or two, they spoke again: “I didn’t think I’d run into you.”

“I could say the same.” Diluc’s eyes softened as the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “Though… perhaps I hoped for it.”

Their breath hitched at his words, and they looked away, unsure of what to say. They hadn’t expected this—hadn’t pictured him to be so calm, so open. The reality of seeing him here, in the flesh, was almost overwhelming.

“I don’t even know why I came,” they confessed, voice trembling. “I just… I missed—“ they hesitated admitting they missed him. It terrified them—how one word could strip away everything they’d worked so hard to hide, yet hold the power to give them everything they wanted.

They swallowed hard, the silence between them growing heavier, and tried again. “I missed… the winery. Adelinde. The flowers. The peace of it all.”

But the lie tasted bitter, and they knew he saw through it. Diluc waited, silent and patient, as though he knew the truth would come, in time.

“I missed you,” they finally whispered, their voice breaking. The confession escaped before they could stop it, leaving them vulnerable and exposed. Their heart raced, the fear of rejection and relief of honesty crashing into each other.

“I’m sorry…” they added, one reckless word after the other. “For being so careless, for not understanding that you were only trying to protect me—for everything.

“I thought I did the right thing, leaving the manor. I told myself I needed space. But since then, all I can think about was you. I couldn’t stop looking forward to our lunch dates, to the moments you’d pass by the flower shop, to even catching a glimpse of that slight smirk of yours.

“And it’s all so infuriating,” they continued, voice gaining strength, yet still trembling with frustration and longing. “Because I look at you with that unreadable expression of yours, and it’s like you don’t care. You’re always so calm, so distant, like nothing ever fazes you. It’s maddening!

“Even when we were together, it was the same. You always tried to shoulder everything alone, hiding behind that stoic exterior. I could never tell if you were trying to protect me or push me away. And now…” Their voice wavered, and they dropped their gaze, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions spilling out. “Now, I don’t even know if you missed me at all. Or if I was just someone you had to look after.”

They hadn’t noticed how Diluc closed the gap between them until they felt a gloved hand caress their hair. “I cared.” They looked up at him with a somber expression. “More than I should. And I still do.” Diluc’s eyes had changed. The unreadable mask they had always found so frustrating had slipped, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

“I tried to convince myself it was better this way,” he continued, his voice low but steady. “That keeping my distance would protect you—from the burdens I carry, and the dangers that follow me. And though I wasn’t completely wrong,” he put attention to your scarred arm. “Pushing you away felt worse. For both of us.”

He hesitated, his thumb brushing against their cheek as if grounding himself. “You were never just someone I had to look after. You are… everything I’ve been too afraid to lose. I thought keeping my feelings buried would keep you safe, but all it did was drive you away.”

His voice softened further, but the intensity of his words only grew. “I can’t bury it anymore. I won’t.”

Their breath hitched, tears pooling in their eyes as he stepped closer, his other hand reaching to gently hold theirs. His grip was firm, steady, and yet full of care—just like him.

“You have undone me completely,” he said, his voice shaking with the weight of his emotions, “and I have no desire to be put back together.”

The confession hung in the air, raw and profound, and the sincerity in his eyes left no room for doubt. In that moment, the barriers between them shattered, replaced by a warmth that enveloped them both.

Tears slipped down their cheeks, but they smiled through them, their heart full for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’ve been undone, too,” they whispered, fragile yet filled with hope. “And I don’t want to be whole without you.”

The stars above, as well as the wind, bore witness as they stood there, hands entwined, finally allowing their hearts to speak what had been unsaid for far too long.

—end—

Bonus character story! (It’s smut)

[nelle-y]

A love story told through voicelines (IV)

C/W: slow-burn, Diluc x gn!reader, reader works at the flower shop in Mondstadt, subtle (I think) Epic: the musical references, fluff, angst, Crepus mentioned, violence, reader gets injured

Note: okay so not totally voicelines.. there are character stories too cuz I had no idea how else to write other scenes.. lmk if that’s alright with you guys or if I should stick with the voiceline format<3 Enjoy! (sorry this took a while btw) link for part 3! link for part 1! link for part 5!

(You) About Diluc: The manor

Dawn Winery? Never been there, honestly. I heard it’s massive, though. Do I know the way? Also no—but that’s not gonna stop me! I will get him back. Yeah, he once told me never to go out at night… but what’s the worst that could happen? There haven’t been any monsters nearby, as far as I know. Besides, getting lost is part of the challenge, and it’ll all be worth it in the end when me and Diluc make up and have a proper dinner in his manor.

… Hey, do you feel like we’re being watched? Uhm, how about you stay back in town? Something feels fishy here. Don’t worry, I know how to handle myself in a pinch. Plus, it’ll be awkward to have you there while I’m patching things up with him.

(Diluc) About you: During patrols

Despite everything that’s happened, my duties as the Darknight Hero—however terrible the name is—remain unchanged. Protecting Mondstadt and its people comes first—always. At least from here, I’m certain I can keep them safe.

Wait—shh. Did you hear that? Get back. Stay close to me, but… on second thought, maybe you should return to Mondstadt. It’s too dangerous out here tonight. I can handle this, just like I always do.

—

(You) Character Story: The Abyss

The scent of wine lingered faintly in the air—a guide to the manor. Alone, they pressed forward, the quiet of the night broken only by the crunch of their footsteps. But something was off. A rustle in the bushes made them pause, and then it came—a low growl, followed by the chilling cackle of an Abyss mage.

It happened so suddenly. A hilichurl raised its bow, an arrow already notched; another, larger one, came charging to them with its axe. An entire army had come. And somehow, they knew—they were the target.

They moved into a desperate sprint, throat burning as they yelled for help. The fiery breath of a demon head roared behind them as arrows streaked by, one grazing their arm with a biting chill. Smoke choked their lungs, the glow of the burning grass blurring their vision. Their heart thundered in their ears, drowning out the cacophony of growls, crackling flames, and the ominous hum of a charged arrow ready to fly.

Faced with looming cliffs that boxed them in, the shadows of monsters grew taller—darker. “This can’t be it,” they froze, stumbling to a halt. They were out of time.

Diluc’s warning echoed in their mind, “The world becomes a very different place at night; promise me you won’t even try to go outside the city.” They can’t help but cry, “I-I’m sorry… I should’ve listened.”

The Abyss mage raised its wand, and a circle appeared beneath them. This was it. Desperate, they drew one last call for help before the mage had showered them in red.

Then… the world fell cold… they expected fire to be nibbling at their skin, but Mondstadt’s winds blew clearly against their legs.

Strange… in the distance, they could hear grunts, the sounds of a battlefield. They took a hot breath, choking and coughing immediately from the smoke. Their vision was hazy, head aching from the lack of oxygen. But they could see the flash of red hair in front of them, claymore in hand, and their world grew brighter.

“Diluc..?”

“Stay where you are,” his voice was firm yet steady. “I got you.”

(Diluc) Character Story: Ruthlessness

Diluc had one goal in mind: protect them.

It didn’t matter how—whether it meant staying far away from them, or cutting down every last monster standing between him and their safety. He would become a monster if it meant keeping them alive.

His claymore burned hotter than ever, fueled with his anger and determination. Hilichurls fell in his wake like leaves in a storm as he mercilessly brushed through them in a line, disregarding the burning grass around him.

Yet, despite his ruthless display, the Abyss mage stood mockingly strong, its Pyro shield glowing, unscathed. Its laughter echoed through the chaos, each chuckle grating against his nerves like splinters.

Diluc tightened his grip on his claymore, his knuckles white. With a sharp breath, he hoisted the weapon high and brought it crashing down against the shield with everything he had. The impact sent a burst of sparks into the air, but the barrier hardly wavered.

Again and again, he struck, the rhythmic clanging of metal against magic filling the battlefield. Each hit drained more of his strength, but he refused to stop. His heart pounded louder with every passing second, the image of their limp body lying somewhere in the smoke seared into his mind. He couldn’t let it end this way. He wouldn’t. Memories of his father, flaccid in his arms, came flashing through him. Not again.

And then, as if the archons themselves had taken pity on him, he felt a cold drop of water land on his head.

Diluc froze, his breath hitching. Another drop followed, and another, until rain poured from the sky, extinguishing the flames that had threatened to consume the battlefield. The Abyss mage hissed in irritation as its shield flickered, weakened by the downpour.

This was his chance. With a roar, Diluc swung his claymore in a wide arc, the final blow shattering the mage’s defenses. He watched as it picked itself up from the ground, small and weak.

In a dark, vengeful growl, he said: “I have had enough.”

Diluc’s gaze thinned as he raised his weapon, and let it’s tip fall on that tiny monster, apathetic, unbothered.

As it crumpled to the ground, the battlefield grew silent save for the steady patter of rain. His gaze turned sharply toward the smoke-filled air, his voice hoarse but resolute.

“I’m coming,” he muttered, his steps quick and determined as he searched for them, rain streaming down his face. “Just hold on.”

—

(You) About Diluc: The morning after

I woke up in his bed.

In his room.

In Dawn Winery!

Yeah, that Dawn Winery.

I mean—I’m not complaining… ahem—it’s better than laying in a ditch full of dirt and scars, right? Anyway, there I was, sitting on his bed, flabbergasted, confused, and with a wounded arm. I heard a knock on the door and Diluc’s headmaid, Adelinde walked in. Have you met her? She’s just the kindest person ever, I’m telling you! The way she’s so soft-spoken and gentle in the way she tended to my injury, it felt like I was with my mother.

But here’s the weird part—she thanked me for helping Diluc. I was like, help him?! All I did was cause trouble for him last night! Honestly, I don’t get it. What could I have possibly done?

(Diluc) About you: The morning after

I hadn’t slept a wink that night. How could I, after all that’s happened? What if something were to sneak through the window and take them away from me? *sigh* They’re so reckless, honestly. I can’t believe it—out of all the things I told them not to do, that was what they did!

Then again… their stubbornness landed them here, in the manor. I’d rather have them unharmed, of course, but… they’re here, nonetheless.

Adelinde is tending to their wounds right now, though I insisted I do it myself. Maybe I should check in on them—make sure they’re resting well. Elzer, could you tell Charles I won’t be coming in today?

(You) About Diluc: Staying

He’s letting me stay with him in the manor until my arm heals… Ehe.

Okay, as much as I love that, I didn’t really like how Diluc said it. It was more of a… command than a suggestion. Like, “You’re staying with me until your arm gets better.” And not, “You should stay here until you’re healed.”

It felt weird hearing him in that tone… I understand why people are intimidated by him, now.

(Diluc) About you: Staying

They insisted they were fine and ready to leave—typical. But I couldn’t let them. Not after what happened. They’re staying here, no question about it. I’ve already asked Adelinde to prepare the guest bedroom for them.

…Do they think I was being harsh? Maybe. I wouldn’t be surprised. But it’s not about being polite; it’s about keeping them safe. Their recklessness already put them in danger once. I can’t take any chances with them walking back to Mondstadt in that condition. They’ll understand eventually.

(You) About Diluc: Meals

Diluc and I eat together pretty often, though considering what happened, there was an… unmistakable tension between us, so you could say our meal was, uhm… lukewarm. It might just be me, but I could feel his eyes on me all the time…

Ah, I haven’t had the chance to talk to him as well. There are so many things I want to confront him about—why did he decide to end things just like that? Did he think I wasn’t worth spending time over because of the rumors? Does he think that I’m only using him for his money? Why would he choose to believe that stupid Donna?!

*sigh* Calm down, I’ll ask when I get the chance.

(Diluc) About you: Meals

They’re recovering well enough to sit and eat, but… the silence at the table was deafening. I tried to focus on my plate, but I couldn’t help glancing up at them. Their injuries, though minor, stood out starkly against their skin, and every time I saw the bandages, guilt gnawed at me.

I wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come. Should I apologize for what happened? For letting those ridiculous rumors drive me to push them away? Or would that just make things worse?

Still, I noticed they barely touched their food. Are they upset with me? Or still in pain? … Perhaps I should’ve made something easier for them to eat. I’ll have Adelinde prepare something lighter next time.

—

(You) About Diluc: Leisure time

He plays chess a lot, I noticed. So, I had nothing better to do once day, and I joined him! It had been a while since I played that game so—you guessed it—he won all the rounds we played. I came close to checkmating him, though!

We played a lot more everyday, and, not to brag but… I won three games in a row, hehe. …Out of ten, yes. That’s still a win, though! You can’t take this away from me!

Oh, and get this—he actually smiled when I beat him. A small one, but it was there! Maybe I’ll win again tomorrow and see if I can get him to laugh, too.

(Diluc) About you: Leisure time

Their injured arm makes it difficult for them to tend to the flower garden, so I’ve been helping where I can. I can’t say I’m particularly skilled, but… I try. Watching their face light up when a new bloom appears is a small joy I didn’t know I needed. They’re so enthusiastic, so full of life—it’s captivating. Their voice softens, and their smile… it’s unforgettable.

I suspect they miss working at Flora’s shop. Speaking of which, I still need to inform Flora about their absence. I’ll take care of it soon—after I finish pruning these roses. Or… at least, trying to.

(Adelinde) About you

Oh, they’re a delight! It’s admirable how they manage to brighten up the room, even on a gloomy day. I hope they stick around even after they recover.

(You) About the voices

… It’s hard to sleep with everything swirling in my head. The Abyss, that cold feeling of being surrounded, trapped, suffocated—it’s still so vivid in my mind. I can almost hear their claws scraping against the walls, the sounds of battle echoing like a distant memory. … Where’s Diluc?

(Diluc) Character story: The voices

The manor was quiet, the crackle of the fireplace being the only one breaking the stillness. Diluc sat on the couch, a book in hand, his expression calm and focused. Laying down beside him, they were curled up, eyes shut but clearly restless.

He noticed their faint shiver before they spoke.

“I’m sorry… I should’ve listened to you.” Their voice trembled, barely above a whisper.

Diluc closed his book, setting it aside. “There’s no need to apologize.” His tone was low, soothing.

“I hear them sometimes,” they admitted, their fingers tightening against the blanket. “The voices… from that night. I can still feel it—the claws, the cold, everything.”

They allowed him to pull them up his chest, his hand gently rubbing their uninjured arm. “The Abyss Order has a way of lingering, even after the fight is over.”He felt a shaky breath from them. “But it’s over now. You’re safe here. I won’t let them harm you again.”

For a moment, the only sound was the fire, warm and constant. They nodded, eyes finally closing as their breathing began to even out.

Diluc remained by their side, watching the flickering flames. His expression was unreadable, but his thoughts were clear: I’ll protect you. Always.

(Adelinde) About you and Diluc: Warmth from more than the hearth

I was about to leave the manor when I stumbled upon them—the florist—sleeping on the couch. What surprised me more, however, was that Master Diluc, also fast asleep, had them laying on his chest!

He rarely lets his guard down, even here at the manor. To see him so relaxed, and with them of all people, was heartwarming in a way I can’t quite describe. It seems they’ve brought more than just liveliness to this house—they’ve brought him comfort, too.

(You) About Diluc: A good night’s sleep

Ehe…

(Diluc) About you: A good night’s sleep

Hah…

—

(You) About Diluc: Little habits

I noticed how he always takes a moment to straighten the chairs at the table after everyone has left. It’s like a small ritual for him, but it’s… cute.

(Diluc) About you: Little habits

They have a habit of making instruments out of anything. I once caught them in the kitchen searching for snacks and beating the jar covers like drums. The way they embarrassingly paused when I came in had me stifling a laugh, haha.

(You) About Diluc: Unasked questions

It’s not like I keep forgetting to ask him about what happened a few days ago, it’s just— I never seem to find the right time. I know, I should talk to him as soon as possible, but how on earth do I start?! “Hey, Diluc, I wanted to ask you why you left me all of a sudden” feels a bit… heavy, doesn’t it? But I need to know. I just have to figure out how to say it.

(Diluc) About you: Unasked questions

I still haven’t asked why they went out that night. Do you have any idea? They seemed so… determined. I can’t help but wonder what was going through their mind. Perhaps it’s not my place to ask, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to it. I should probably wait, though. But the curiosity nags at me.

(You) About Diluc: Sticking around

Is it just me, or does that man almost never leave me alone? It’s been around three days since I’ve been staying at the manor, and I swear, he’s everywhere I go! Yeah, it was nice at first… but now? It’s getting a bit much. I can’t even sneak into the kitchen for a snack without him showing up with a cup of tea or a plate of food, acting like he’s been there for hours. I’m starting to wonder if he’s doing this on purpose. Maybe he’s just trying to make sure I’m not bored… Whatever the reason, I need some space.

(Diluc) About you: Sticking around

I’ve noticed how tense they’ve been lately… but I can’t afford to let them out of my sight. Not after everything that’s happened. I know they probably think I’m smothering them, but… I’m only doing this to protect them. There are always dangers lurking around, especially when they’re vulnerable. I can’t help but stay nearby, even if it means interrupting their little moments of peace.

(You) About Diluc: Overbearing

Oh my Archons, he’s at it again! I swear, Diluc’s taken over my entire routine! I can’t even make a cup of tea without him swooping in, insisting I drink his special blend, and then serving it on a tray like I’m royalty. He keeps asking if I’m sure I’m not still hurt—yes, Diluc, I’m fine! I’m practically healed! But every time I try to do something for myself, it’s like he’s right there, ready to stop me. I don’t want to be treated like I’m broken. I get it, okay? He wants to take care of me, but I’m not some delicate flower!

(Diluc) About you: Distant

They’re avoiding me. I can see it in the way they peek through the door before going out. I know I’ve been overbearing, but… What else am I supposed to do? I can’t stand the idea of something happening to them. They’re so strong, but there’s always that part of me, a nagging fear that I can’t shake—that if I don’t keep watch, I’ll lose them. How do I explain that without pushing them away even more?

(You) About Diluc: Confrontation

Ah, that… Yeah, I talked to him—about everything. We had a pretty big fight, so… I’m going back to town. What happened? Erm… I don’t wanna talk about it. Let’s just say I now think of him as stubborn, and he, of me, reckless. We won’t be seeing each other anymore, I believe.

(Diluc) About you: Confrontation

The argument was inevitable—I expected it, actually. I just wish I chose the right words to say. Did you know they went out that night to see me? *sigh* This guilt… is overwhelming. I shouldn’t have caged them like that. Or called them reckless…

The manor feels unbearably quiet without them, now.

… Should I stop by the flower shop?

—

Note: comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! As I’ve mentioned, lmk if I should include character stories in the next part, or if I should stick with only the voicelines.

[nelle-y]

A love story told through voicelines (III)

C/W: slow-burn, Diluc x gn!reader, reader works at the flower shop in Mondstadt, more Wicked and Epic: the musical references, fluff, angst, Crepus mentioned, rumors, no-no word: twat

Note: Pls pretend Donna doesn’t work at the flower shop yet- (here’s part 1 and part 4)

(You) About Diluc: Smiling

He never smiles—I know that for a fact. But when he came to the flower shop today, I swear the corners of his mouth were pointing slightly upward. Hah, I guess you could say the flowers worked! That’s good. Flora took the cost of those flowers out of my paycheck.

(Diluc) About you: Smiling

The way they smiled at me when I came in today… It was different. It wasn’t just a polite smile, but something deeper, something unspoken. I’ve never been good at reading people, but I think… I think they know more than I realize. I just wonder if I’m ready for whatever this is.

(You) About Diluc: Reputation

There are times I feel whispers on the street that have to do with me and Diluc. It’s not like we’ve been particularly discreet in our lunch meetings, so it’s only natural. I just hope nothing bad will happen because of it. No, I’m not so worried it eats me alive—I’m tougher than that, you know! I’m prepared to take what’s thrown at me.

(Diluc) About you: Reputation

When it comes to ‘reputations’, eyes automatically lock on me, being the Master of Dawn Winery, and—to the Knights of Favonius and the Abyss—the Darknight Hero. But I’m already used to dealing with rumors and disapproving gazes—it’s them I’m worried about. Do they feel the pressure of being seen with me? Or do they understand that it’s not just the weight of my family name that comes with me, but all the expectations and rumors, too? I want to protect them from all of it. I don’t want them to feel like they’re being judged for something that has nothing to do with them.

(Kaeya) About Diluc: Recent behavior

Master Diluc. I see him gracing the flower shop more often. Haha, tell me, is he buying blooms for the winery… or for someone special?

(Flora) About you and Diluc

They’ve been getting distracted since Master Diluc started to pass by more; always rushing out the door the moment lunch time comes. Ooh, is something going on between them?

(Fischl) About you and Diluc

Ah, the tale of thy heart entwined with the ever-guarded Crimson Knight of Flames has reached my ears! Truly, a most beguiling confluence of fates!

Oz: Mein Fräulein, it seems that their bond appears to be progressing at a steady pace. Perhaps the Crimson Knight has begun to lower his defenses.

Indeed, Oz! I, Fischl, Prinzessin der Verurteilung, have observed the signs! The subtle glances, the fleeting moments shared between them—these are no mere happenstance. Yet, let it be known, they must tread carefully, for to enter the heart of a man such as he is to walk through a storm. But fear not! For they art no ordinary soul, and the stars favor their cause.

Verily, shouldst they require guidance, I, Fischl, shall lend my wisdom! Together with the ever-watchful Oz, I shall ensure that their journey to the heart of the Crimson Knight is as glorious as it is fateful!

Oz: Or perhaps simply buying him another bouquet might suffice, mein Fräulein.

Hush, Oz! A saga of this magnitude deserves nothing less than grandeur!

(Venti) About you and Diluc

Ah, the stoic knight and his admiring florist—it’s practically begging to be sung, no?

(Amber) About you and Diluc

I’ve been keeping an eye on those two lately, and honestly? I think there’s something special there. I hope it all works out between them.

(Klee) About you and Diluc

That florist is the best! You know… Master Diluc used to be sooo grumpy all the time, that’s why I thought he weird. But now, whenever they’re around, he’s a lot less grumpy, and that’s pretty cool! No one’s ever made him smile before. It’s like they have a superpower… with flowers!

(Lisa) About you and Diluc

So someone has finally brought down his walls, huh? Hm, well done.

(Jean) About you and Diluc

I don’t know all the details, but… whatever bond the two of them share, it seems to have brought him a sense of ease that I haven’t seen in a long time.

(You) About Diluc: Constellations

I found him sitting alone near Windrise one night, looking more tense than ever. Without thinking, I sat next to him in silence, just watching the stars with my head near his shoulder. He didn’t say a word neither, but I felt his eyes on me for a brief moment before returning to the costellations above us. I’m not one for silent moments, but there was something comforting with how quiet it was. Like the night spoke for us. It felt… nice.

(Diluc) About you: Constellations

The quiet of Windrise was unlike anything else. I had hoped for solitude that night, but when they sat beside me, I didn’t feel the need to chase them away. They were calm, simply being there, with their presence more than enough. The stars above seemed so distant, but in that moment, with them there, everything felt strangely within reach. I didn’t have to speak. We just… existed together. It was a feeling I wasn’t used to, yet something about it felt right.

(Adelinde) About Diluc: Recent behavior

I’ve seen Master Diluc return to the manor with a lighter step recently. I dare say, it’s been a while since he seemed this… at ease. Reminds me of when he was still a child; always causing trouble, that one.

(You) About Diluc: Could it be?

It’s hard to put into words, but lately, every time he stops by the flower shop or shares a quiet moment with me, I feel this… pull. Like the world is shifting, and he’s at the center of it.

Could it be some kind of sign? That my life, my world, is all about to change?

But then there’s that doubt—that nagging little voice in the back of my head. Maybe I’m just imagining things. What if I’m wrong about him? About us?

Still… I can’t help but wonder.

(Diluc) About you: Could it be?

I can’t stop thinking about them. Every conversation, every glance—it stays with me long after they’re gone.

But then, one question keeps haunting me: do they feel the same?

I’ve always thought myself strong, unshaken by the opinions or approval of others, yet this… this is different. What if I’ve misread everything? What if the way I look at them, the way my heart quickens when they’re near—it’s all just me?

Was I really seeking something good with them, or was I just seeking attention? Am I holding onto this feeling because I don’t know how to let it go?

(Donna) About “you and Diluc”

Oh, you won’t believe what I’ve heard! You know that florist that’s been hanging around Master Diluc all the time? Yeah, turns out—they have a little arrangement, if you catch my drift. And it’s not just the flowers. Hahaha! Seems like a desperate move, but who knows? Maybe they’ve been waiting for more than a paycheck.

(You) About Diluc: Rumors

I thought it wouldn’t matter to him, you know. He seemed like the type not to care about gossip. Maybe I was wrong there. Archons—maybe I was even wrong about us! I’m so confused… how could he throw our friendship away like it was nothing?! All because of that Donna—psh, who even is Donna?! Who is she to mind Diluc and my’s business? If she has something to say, then come on! I’m all ears! In a moment, I’ll be all fists too. She’s just jealous! Twat.

It’s no use being angry, Diluc’s gone. He’s gone… and I don’t know what I can do to get him back. … I need to see him. No—I don’t care if he doesn’t want to talk! He can’t just throw away what we have! Whatever that is. I’m going to the manor!

(Diluc) About you: Rumors

I heard about it… from one of my staff. Some girl, Donna, spreading terrible lies about them. I had the situation dealt with, of course. …They don’t deserve this—these watchful eyes and loathsome minds that seem to misinterpret every step they take. I thought by letting them go, I would be freeing them from all of this. That was the right thing to do, isn’t it? Protect the people I care about, even if it hurts me? That’s what my father would’ve done.

(Diluc) About Crepus: Protecting loved ones

Truth is… I don’t think I’m anything like him. He would have handled this better. He wouldn’t have been so cowardly—so afraid of ruining something good that he let it slip through his fingers entirely. I wanted to keep them safe, to protect them the way I couldn’t protect him. But instead, I’ve only driven them away.

If my father were here, what would he think of me? Would he see me as strong, or as a coward hiding behind excuses? I don’t know anymore. All I know is that I’ve hurt them… and I can’t stop thinking about how much I’ve failed them. I promised to protect them, but I’ve only hurt them. And now… I don’t know if I’ll ever have the chance to make it right.

—

Note: now how tf do I write part 4-

[nelle-y]

pt2 to the diluc voice line story PLEASE!! I LOVED IT SOOO MUCH

A love story told through voicelines (II)

C/W: slow-burn, Diluc x gn!reader, reader works at the flower shop in Mondstadt, a few Wicked and Epic: the musical references (let’s see if you can catch them <; ), fluff, angst slight comfort

Note: I’m so glad a lot of you guys liked part 1! Part 3 is here as well<3

(You) About Diluc: New impressions

I think I’m starting to understand him better now. Beneath that stoic exterior, he’s just someone doing his best to protect the world he cares about. It’s kind of sad, though… how so many people overlook that. He deserves more credit than he gives himself. I wonder how he manages to carry all that weight on his shoulders alone.

(Diluc) About you: New impressions

I’d be lying if I said they didn’t bring a little light to my days. Ahem—they’re a dependable friend, of course. Their boldness and genuity are rare qualities, and somehow, they always seem to find the right words. It’s reassuring to have someone like that around. I wonder if I should make their favorite drink in case they come by today…

(You) About Diluc: A growing bond

He can be funny at times, but I don’t think he knows it. Like, he once told me he doesn’t like wine, so I pointed out that he owns a winery, and he just looked at me, dead serious, and said, “Is the hunter expected to eat raw meat?” Hahaha! The way he said it was so deadpan, I couldn’t stop laughing!

The more time I spend with him, the more I notice the little things—the way he always makes an effort to listen, even though he doesn’t know what to say; or how, when he opens up, his perspective is always so mature, so layered. I noticed that every time I come to the tavern now, my favorite drink is always prepared beforehand, even when Charles is behind the bar. He may not say it out loud, but I can tell he cares.

(Diluc) About you: A growing bond

Beneath their lightheartedness, there’s a quiet strength, a sincerity that’s rare to come across. I never expected to find myself looking forward to our conversations. It’s almost as if I’ve started depending on those moments. I’ve been manning the bar more frequently, secretly hoping they’d stop by—even for a short while. How did this happen?

(You) About Diluc: What is this feeling?

I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I’ve been thinking about him wayyyy too often—more than I should. It’s like my day revolves around him now. I wake up wondering if he’ll pass by the flower shop again. When I’m at work, I catch myself picking out flowers I think he’d like, just in case I see him. And don’t even get me started on lunch breaks—I’ve been stopping by the tavern more than I’d like to admit.

And the worst part? I’m starting to wonder if I’m imagining things. He’s so… reserved. It’s hard to tell if he even enjoys spending time with me or if he’s just being polite. What if I’m reading too much into it? What if this is all one-sided, and I’m just setting myself up for disappointment?

It’s frustrating—why can’t I just stop thinking about him?! He’s so serious, so closed-off, but every once in a while, I see these small moments where he softens, where he lets his guard down just a little… and I can’t help but be drawn in. Ugh, what am I doing? Falling for him? No, that’s ridiculous. We’re just… friends.

I don’t even understand why he’s so guarded in the first place. I mean, it’s not like he has anything to hide… right?

(Diluc) About you: What is this feeling?

I can’t focus on my work lately. I keep hearing their voice in the back of my mind, or catching myself wondering if they’ll stop by the tavern for lunch. When I think about them, my head starts reeling, and my pulse rushes. It’s strange. I’ve been this way for days now. Adelinde has noticed, and it’s been difficult to hide. I thought it would go away—this feeling of unease when they’re not around. But it’s not fading. The more I think about them, the more it becomes impossible to ignore.

It’s starting to affect me. I’ve always prided myself on keeping control, but now, I’m beginning to feel like I’m losing it. This attraction… it’s dangerous. What if I can’t protect them the way I want to? What if my responsibilities get in the way? Maybe I should keep a distance now. I don’t know how to reconcile what I feel with my duty as the Darknight Hero—ah, another reason to stay wary. But the thought of pushing them away… I don’t want to.

(You) About Diluc: Worries

Is it just me or does that man have too much on his plate? For the past few days, I noticed how distracted he was during our conversations. It’s like there’s always something on his mind, something that adds to the weight on his shoulders. He’s speaking a lot less now, as well, much like when we first met… always keeping his answers short. His eyes look tired, his frame is getting lighter… and if you look closer, you’ll see his rare smile is torn. I’ve tried asking if he’s okay, but he brushes it off with that calm, distant demeanor of his, then suddenly dismissing himself because ‘something came up.’ No, I don’t have time to think about how I feel, right now. Something’s up.

I guess I worry about him a lot. What if things aren’t going well at the winery? What if he doesn’t come back to wherever he’s running off to? What could he be keeping inside that makes him act like this? Hm, it could be just all in my head, but… whatever it is, I hope he knows he doesn’t have to face it alone. Even if he thinks he does.

(Diluc) About you: Worries

Why? Has something happened to them?—Ah… apologies. I’ve been on edge these past few days. It’s difficult to explain, but I can’t seem to shake this instinct to protect them. I’ve been watching the crowds more carefully, scanning for any sign of danger, and keeping an ear out for anything that might threaten their safety.

I fear they’ve noticed how distracted I’ve been during our conversations. I tried to keep my distance, to ensure they’re not caught up in anything dangerous because of me, but it’s… not easy. The more I try to step back, the more I find myself thinking about them. Have they noticed the change in my demeanor? Do they suspect the reason behind it?

I only hope they understand that my distance isn’t because of them… but because of the risks that follow me. If anything were to happen to them because of me… I don’t think I could forgive myself. Yet, even knowing this, I still feel drawn to them. It’s a dangerous contradiction.

(You) About Diluc: Distance

I’m starting to realize that Diluc might be more closed off than I thought. Every time I try to reach him, it feels like I hit a wall. Why does he keep pushing me away? Doesn’t he see that I just want to help?

Every time he dismisses me with that calm mask of his, I can’t help but feel like I’m losing him. Maybe I should give him space, maybe he needs it, but I just don’t want him to shut me out forever. I don’t know how much longer I can watch him bear the weight of his responsibilities alone.

If words won’t reach him, then maybe I’ll try something else… something to remind him he doesn’t have to do this by himself.

(Diluc) About you: Distance

There’s a part of me that wants to tell them everything—about my past, my duties, the dangers that follow me. But I can’t. Not yet. If they knew, would they still look at me the same? Would they still want to be near me? I’ve been keeping my distance for their sake, but the more I avoid them, the more I feel the ache of their absence. *sigh* I don’t deserve to rely on them this way.

(You) About Diluc: Flowers

Since asking him directly isn’t getting me anywhere, I decided to try a different approach to maybe let him open up. I heard Small Lamp Grass flowers were his favorite, so I decided to get some and leave them in the tavern for him. I even left a note, hehe. Considering what’s going on between us, though… do you think he would appreciate it?

(Diluc) About you: Flowers

“For when nights are long, and the weight feels heavy—may these remind you that you’re not alone.” That was their note, marked with a little heart at the end. I thought it was a mistake, at first—that the flowers were for someone else. But as I recognized their handwriting… something in me softened.

Honestly, it’s silly. Such a simple gesture, yet I find myself reading their note over and over again. I placed them in my office. Their glow brings a warmth in the room, and whenever I look at them, I’m reminded of their smile. Hah… Everyday, it gets harder to draw myself away from them. Maybe I can allow myself this one sliver of respite. Just this once.

—

[nelle-y]

A love story told through voicelines (I)

C/W: slow-burn, Diluc x gn!reader, reader works at the flower shop in Mondstadt

Note: Part 2 is hereeee! This was so fun to write

(You) About Diluc

The name rings a bell… Oh, is he that one bartender at Angel’s Share with red hair? He owns it?! Hah, no wonder my friends keep dragging me along when he’s behind the bar—they’re setting me up with him! Very intimidating gaze, though. He doesn’t seem like much of a talker. Wait, don’t tell him about what my friends are planning—or what I said about him being intimidating!

(Diluc) About you

I have seen them a couple of times at Angel’s Share, but I never pay much heed. A customer is a customer; they make friends if they want. Besides, they always come with their friends, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t talk to them properly. Would I like them as a partner? Hm… You know where my duties lie. I’m afraid I would be too busy for relationships. Also, some rivaling company or the abyss could bring them harm, so it’s best if I keep a distance.

(You) About Diluc: The first approach

I just ran into him, actually! He was on his way to the tavern, and I was placing down some boxes for Flora. Finally got the courage to greet him, too. … ‘Master Diluc’? No, I just greeted him by his last name. Oh shoot—was I supposed to address him as Master?!

(Diluc) About you: The first approach

It felt refreshing to hear someone address me as something other than ‘Master Diluc’. Their approach gave me the impression that they’re very friendly. It’s not everyday you get to meet someone whose enthusiasm is that contagious. I found myself smiling the whole afternoon.

(You) About Diluc: Idle chitchat

Last night, I had a drink at the tavern—without my friends—and coincidentally, Diluc was manning the bar! Yeah, we had some idle chitchat here and there, but he didn’t really talk much about himself. He’s a stoic man. In an oddly charming way, not gonna lie. Eh… it might just be me, though.

(Diluc) About You: Idle chitchat

They came to Angel’s Share last night alone. I don’t usually strike up conversations, but they seemed approachable. Something about their energy made the atmosphere lighter. I answered a few of their questions, though I kept it brief. I didn’t mean to come across as distant—it’s just habit. Still, it was pleasant. Oddly pleasant.

(You) About Diluc: A little closer

I ran into him again while helping Flora, and this time, he actually stayed for a chat. Well, ‘chat’ may be a bit of a stretch—he’s still reserved, but he asked how the flowers were selling. I tried asking him about the tavern, but his answers were so short! You’d think he was guarding state secrets. But, like… I could tell he was trying, you know? For someone as closed-off as him, it counts as an effort. I’m kinda intrigued to see where this could go.

(Diluc) About you: A little closer

I encountered them near the flower shop again. They seem to have a knack for brightening the mood, even in simple conversations. I caught myself lingering longer than usual—something about them makes the world feel so… uncomplicated. I wonder when I might see them again.

(You) About Diluc: Getting to know

So get this—I was reading a book on one of the benches near the flower shop, and he actually approached me this time! He mentioned that the book I was reading was one of his favorites, and we got to more chatting. For ten minutes—TEN! That might just be a personal record for him. We talked about more books we liked, then our hobbies and interests… I think I made him laugh at some point. Erm—more of a… smirk, actually. But hey, when it comes to a guy like Diluc, I’ll take what counts.

(Diluc) About you: Getting to know

I saw them reading a favorite book of mine recently. We talked for a while—longer than I anticipated, but it felt worth it. We got to know each other a bit, and I caught myself speaking more to them than I do around others. They smile a lot, don’t they? It’s so contagious, I couldn’t help but let one slip. I don’t think they noticed, though.

(You) About Diluc: An invitation

Hahaha! I invited him to Good Hunter with me for lunch! It’s not like I was planning to eat with him, just a casual suggestion. He was leaving the tavern, I happened to pass by, and it just slipped out. I thought for sure he would decline, but… he said yes. Okay, I know it really doesn’t sound like a big deal, but this is Diluc. He’s the type of person who doesn’t go out with people that much. We did have a good time, though. I found out we share similar values and perspectives on Mondstadt and stuff like that. For once, he looked more relaxed… I think he needed that. And honestly? So did I.

(Diluc) About you: An invitation

Yes, I almost declined, as I normally would. My duties often leave little room for anything else, and I’m not one to easily let my guard down. But… there was something in their voice, something that made me reconsider. I agreed, though I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did. Sharing a meal, in a place so simple, with no distractions… It felt beautifully unfamiliar, and for once, I didn’t have to think about my responsibilities. I’m glad I went. Would I go again? If the opportunity comes.

—

[nelle-y]

Would You Fall in Love With Me Again

Sunday x reader

Summary: Sunday returns home after many years, changed but still your husband

a/n: Based on Would You Fall in Love With Me Again from Epic the Musical. It’s such a beautiful song and I highly recommend listening to it (although it’s honestly even better with the context of the whole musical because it’s the last song).

The large double doors of your bedroom loom before Sunday. He knows you are waiting just past them, but his hand hesitates to grab the handle and walk through them. It has been several years since he’s been on Penacony. After his involvement with the Order, he couldn’t bear to face you. His decision to journey with the Astral Express to find himself and rediscover the dream he had to make people happy followed a letter left on the bed he had once shared with you. It was a letter that promised he would return someday.

Despite all the time that has passed Sunday still wears his wedding ring on the hand currently outstretched towards the door. Would you still be waiting for him? He wouldn’t blame you if you moved on. Would you still love him? The idea that you might not recognize him scares him stiff. You’ve remained at the forefront of his mind while he was gone, but he could have become a stranger to you in that time as well.

Still, there’s only one way to find out, and he made a promise after all, so Sunday pulls the door open and enters. You’re standing by the tall windows, looking out over the Golden Hour. It’s a view he used to enjoy sharing with you late at night. The views from the Express’ windows could never compare, part of that being a significant lack of you there.

Your eyes are drawn by the intrusion and meet Sunday’s as he steps in. He takes you in as the light from the Dreamscape surrounds your form with a soft glow. It’s almost ethereal, and Sunday suddenly feels his heart lurching in his chest like it wants to jump out and fly to that whom it belongs to.

“Sunday?” You walk slowly towards him. He catches your eyes studying him. Once you stand before him, your hands move to lightly brush the hair out of his face as you take him in just like you used to do every morning. “Are you real? This isn’t a dream?”

“It’s me.”

“You look different.” Sunday leans into your touch as your hand grazes his cheek. “There’s a light in your eyes that wasn’t there before.” He lets out a shaky breath.

“I’m not the same man you once knew. I’ve changed a lot since I left, but-” Only when he looks directly into your eyes do you notice the tears beginning to form, “Would you fall in love with me again? Even though I’m different?”

Your hands take his, running your thumb over the golden ring he wears. Glancing down, his eyes widen as he sees an identical ring still adorning your finger.

“Do you remember when you gave it to me?” You say upon noticing the recognition in his eyes.

“It was in this room,” Sunday recalls. “We were in bed, and you said you wanted to marry me. I had bought the ring weeks ago but only then did I feel brave enough to give it to you. The way your eyes lit up outshone even the Golden Hour.” Your hand tilts his face up to meet yours again, a smile gracing your features.

“Only my husband would remember that,” You choke up as tears fill your eyes as well. “I never fell out of love with you, Sunday. I’m glad you’re home. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Sunday lets the tears freely stream down his face as he pulls you into his arms. Your hands on his back bring him just as close, if not closer, as his previous fear is released with his sobs. After spending years in the cold reaches of space, he revels in your warmth. It feels right. It feels like home.

“I can’t wait to hear about everything you’ve been up to.” Your hands reach up to brush the residue of tears from his cheeks. And so, Sunday sits side by side with you on the edge of the bed as he tells you all of his adventures throughout the galaxy.

[nelle-y]

Hello 👋,

I hope this message finds you well. My name is Aziz, and I’m reaching out with a heartfelt plea to help my family find safety and reunite with our mother. 😞

The ongoing war in Gaza has torn my family apart. My mother and newborn sister are stranded in Egypt, while I, along with the rest of my sex family members, am trapped in the midst of the genocide in Gaza. We have not only been separated but have also lost our home and are enduring unimaginable hardships. 💔

Your support can make a difference. Whether by reading our story, donating, or sharing our campaign with others, you can help us reunite, find safety, and start anew. 🙏🕊

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Y’all heard ‘em people! Please donate to them with kind hearts and good intentions.

At least sharing their campaign is a step closer to reaching their goal and reuniting with their family, so if you cannot donate, at least reblog this post to spread awareness to those who can.

Thank you, Aziz, for letting the world know your troubles and seeking help. You are a sincerely brave soul.

Donate and reblog, guys!

[nelle-y]

MY GOD THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。12:06 AM — SAMPO KOSKI.

notes: friends/acquaintances to lovers, mutual pining but seemingly unrequited love, confessions (kind of lol), happy ending !!, not proof read and also idek if it’s in character but idk i just want to kiss him but he’s also rly punchable so we had to work with that okay

sampo is a bit shameless—it’s what anyone would tell you. personally, you would have to agree.

“so,” he drawls, “how about it, huh? you, me, a fancy little date—”

“no,” you interrupt—it’s immediate, your response, it comes through grit teeth. “you can forget it.”

“alright, alright,” he raises his hands in surrender, “no need to get all aggressive. the sampo koski will change your mind soon enough.”

you’ve lost count how many times he’s asked you this same question. maybe it’s admirable—the way he’s so persistent. maybe it’s dangerous—the way he always gets what he’s after. most people describe sampo koski as an added headache to the already difficult life of the underworld. he’s a bit too lively for his own good, you think. but you’d describe him as pretty words and perfect teeth and cologne that makes your head spin.

you hate it.

“there won’t be any mind changing,” you say promptly.

“oh, c’mon,” he insists, voice effortlessly honeyed and so painfully alluring. “what’s the worst that could happen, huh? we have a good time?” his lips curl into that smile if his. you swallow and look away.

a lot, you want to say. the worst that can happen is a lot.

and it’s easy, you think—to reach over and fix that strand of hair that’s fallen to the wrong side of his face. it’s easy to bump shoulders with him or turn and brush your noses together and feel his hot breath as he exhales.

but that would be toying with overstepping dangerous boundaries, boundaries that are very much set in place by yourself for your own sake. sampo has saved you one too many times from a hard spot—but he’s always managed to disappear just when you think he’s reliable too. he’s too good at bending things in his favor, a little too good at getting what he wants out of everything.

it’s not hard to think what he wants from you—and it’s not hard to imagine him disappearing once again once he’s got it. the difference is you think this time…well, you think this time might just crush you.

“sampo, do you want me to punch you?” you huff, crossing your arms.

it’s late. you’re not sure why he’s gone out of his way to walk you home, but he does and you’re a tad bit grateful. you’d rather not run into a vagrant on your way—and if you do, that’s happily sampo’s problem now.

there’s something about it, about the way he’s dedicated only when there’s something to gain out of it, about the way he’s so sweet and charming as he butters you up with his actions, about the way his smile is gentle around the corners just perfectly to crack your resolve.

he’s so good at what he does—and so painfully bad for your heart. your poor, fragile heart that’s so carefully locked away from his awaiting hand. you think to give it to him would be to hand the devil your soul and trust it’s safety.

you’re not so foolish.

“hey, we’re pals, you and i,” he nudges you with his shoulder. the contact is enough to make your breath pause. “how can you be so cruel?”

there’s a pout on his lips. a perfectly rehearsed, theatrical and conniving pout on his lips that’s meant to add to his charm and chip away at your composure until you give him exactly what he’s after. for a moment, you debate whether or not you’d rather just take on a vagrant or deal with the (very attractive) disaster next to you.

“we’re acquaintances at best,” you purse your lips. “very faintly acquainted acquaintances at that.”

“well that’s just mean,” he gasps, “after all the business deals we’ve had together? i thought i’d be on your good side by now.”

that’s all you think he sees anything as. a good business opportunity. maybe he’s a good friend—he never leaves you for dead and he never really lets you down when you need him most, but perhaps that’s for his own benefit at the end. how else can you have connections if they’re all dead? but you don’t think intimacy is a word sampo uses in his every day vocabulary—much less his every day routine.

“sampo,” you snap, “drop it.”

“hey,” he eyes you, “everything alright?”

you hate that he acts like that—like he cares as his lips curl into that soft frown and his eyes gloss over in concern. it’s so carefully crafted, that mask of his, the one he can turn on to mimic every emotion he might need to fool you that he really cares and he really wants to know if you’re okay.

and you’re not—but he doesn’t need to know that.

“everything would be fine if you quit asking for your stupid date,” you grumble, “cross me off your list for the day.”

he stops walking. you kick yourself for immediately noticing the lack of warmth as soon as he’s not beside you anymore.

“what?”

it’s a simple question. one word. one syllable. yet it says so much. the hurt in his voice, the genuine confusion, the slight shock and the underlying betrayal.

“why’d you stop walking,” you raise a brow, “it’s late and i’m tired—”

“you’re changing the subject,” he cuts you off, “what do you mean list?”

“c’mon sampo, let’s not play this game tonight,” you sigh, “i’m really tired.”

“and what game are we playing?”

“the game of playing dumb,” you snap, and this time, there’s a bit more bite to your words, “the game of asking around to worm your way into everyone’s pants.”

“everyone’s pants? i didn’t know sampo koski had such a reputation,” he chuckles in that playful way of his—but there’s no charm this time, just dryness. “i didn’t know you believed it too.”

“so what am i supposed to believe? that you want to go on a date for fun?”

“that’s usually what people do on dates,” he shrugs, “have fun with people they like.”

he looks a bit wounded. it makes your heart bleed and you don’t like it. his shoulders are slumped and his eyes aren’t looking directly into yours for once—it’s like you’ve peeled off that confidence he wears like a second skin and left something a lot more tender and raw underneath.

something a lot easier to sting with the burn of rejection.

admittedly, you never thought you’d see the day where you’d feel bad for sampo after your rejection. you always thought you’d feel bad for yourself—saying no to everything you want but can’t ever really have. but he makes you feel like he wanted it too….that he’s been craving you just as badly as you’ve been craving him all this time.

“what are you—”

“listen, i….” and then he trails off. like he doesn’t have the right words. like he doesn’t know what he wants to say and has everything he wants to get off his chest all at the same time. like he needs you to know what’s on his mind. in the end, he plasters a grin on his face—one that’s tight and forced as he chuckles, “let’s get ya home, yeah? sampo koski will have you delivered to your door in once piece in no time—”

“sampo,” you sigh, “what do you want from me?”

there’s defeat in your voice. maybe hope. definitely caution.

“a date,” is all he says. “i’ve only ever asked you,” he adds, “if that’s what you’re worried about. no side deals or anything.”

that last part comes with another chuckle that really has no humor at all. it’s dry and empty and maybe even a little bitter.

“look, i appreciate the dedication, but i’d rather not be that fun hook up on the side that—”

“hey! that’s just harsh,” he gasps, “you’d think so lowly of sampo koski? after everything we’ve been through?”

sampo is good at one thing—playing the ever dedicated, ever conniving, ever charming business man. he knows how to lace in sweet words and tempting offers like how the devil whispers sins into your ears. he never cracks, never lets that facade fall even when he’s backed into a corner.

except this time, you don’t think it’s a facade. you think it’s a wall to keep you from noticing the pure heartbreak in his eyes.

it fills you with guilt instantly. it makes you almost hate yourself for not seeing good in him. it makes you feel blind for not noticing all the signs he’s been dropping for so long—signs you know he’s never given anyone else.

who else does he bump shoulders with and walk home in the dark and flick foreheads and make time for even when he’s on a tight schedule? who else gets to hear him talk about his day for just the sake of talking without and not a guise for a deal?

for a second you feel bad—and then you decide that for once, you’ll do something about it.

“sampo koski is always disappearing,” you say softly, taking a step forward, “what if he disappears this time too?”

“sampo koski always comes back,” he reminds you, heart on his sleeve as he meets you half way.

“always?” you ask hopefully.

he nods, like it’s the surest thing he’s promised. “of course.”

“okay, sampo,” you chuckle breathlessly, whether in joy or in disbelief, you’re unsure. maybe both. your hand cups his cheeks and when he leans into it, you decide it’s definitely both. “let’s go on your date. you’re paying.”

“you didn’t have to bring money into it,” he pouts—but the excitement in his voice is almost tangible.

you giggle, squeeze his cheeks together as his hands find your waist. it’s dark and it’s late and you’re tired—but sampo koski is here and nothing else has ever mattered more.

“i expect only the best date from the sampo koski.”

“good,” he grins, charming as ever, a little extra only for you, “because sampo koski never disappoints.”

you kiss him after that. and every day too.

i have been bewitched by the meathead guys 😔

[nelle-y]

dude, he wants you so bad.

[nelle-y]