#I just like to imagine diluc as absolutely horrendous at verbally expressing his affection

[screamingcrows]

Note: chants 'let me just, for once in my life, write a 50 word post'

diluc x reader, fluff, established courting

Once Diluc settles with you, he finds that a new passion - bordering on obsession - has taken root in place of his desire for justice.

He needs to express just how grateful he is to have you by his side. You'd seen the damage left by all the times 'home' had been torn apart and taken with it a piece of his being. But instead of turning away, there'd been nothing but warmth in your eyes as you wove what remained together with strings of your love.

Everyone around him had noticed the difference; 'You seem excited today, Master Diluc, something good happen?' 'Finally settling down huh? Who'd have thought you'd manage before me' 'It's good to see you smile again.'

But how can a mortal man hope to thank the sun for bringing dawn and dispersing the dark night?

His fingers hadn't touched the violin since well before he left Mondstadt, and despite several late night attempts, his fingers felt far too rough. The notes didn't sound right.

Flowers didn't feel like enough, and something about having to watch them wither didn't sit right.

Marjorie had suggested a piece of jewellery, but loathe as he was to admit it, the moment he laid eyes on but a fraction of the selection, his mind had locked up. What if you didn't like what he chose?

'Your mother didn't leave anything?' Marjorie had asked with nothing but good intentions, he knew, but Diluc was terrified that you'd turn tail and run at the weight of such a gift.

The picnic he'd invited you on had been perfect, a gentle weather, solitude (he'd made sure to give his workers a paid day off), he'd been cooking all morning. Just the memory of your blissful expression as you'd looked up at him, head on his chest, had heat rushing to his cheeks.

Still, by the time the sun was setting, even with circumstances as perfect as that, Diluc had found himself tongue tied. Words that had fought to be liberated from his heart for so long always vanished in your presence. Stunned into silence. Too busy revelling the sound of your breaths, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the weight of you against his body.

Could a man such as himself ever be worthy of it all?

When Adelinde had first suggested he write you a letter, pour his heart out and leave it upon your windowsill alongside a lamp grass, he'd nearly fallen to his knees, lamenting his own inability to consider something so simple yet effective.

It was a perfect idea.

It had been a perfect idea.

Surrounded by countless crumpled sheets of parchment, blots of ink staining both his fingers and the desk, words no longer a tangible concept in his mind, it seemed as impossible a task as the rest.

Letters danced before his vision, stringing together words that didn't hold half the meaning you did to him. It was downright humiliating to watch the growing pile of unsatisfactory drafts, to the point that meeting Adelinde and admitting defeat felt almost alluring.

But he persevered, knowing it'd be impossible to find rest before at least managing to finish one letter.

A brush of warmth along the shell of his ear had a shiver run through his body, too keenly aware that the world was sideways before his eyes. Sitting up, Diluc noted with dismay that light already streamed through the windows, the candles that had kept him company burned down long ago.

When had he fallen asleep, and more importantly-

"Adelinde told me you hadn't left your study all night," you sounded almost amused, a realisation that tempered his initial shock at your presence, hands frantically moving to sweep together the scattered papers.

"Ah- I had business to attend to," another warm breath ghosted along his ear, "plenty of planning to get settled before harvesting begins."

His eyes widened in nothing short of horror as he turned towards you, blood running colder than it had in Snezhnaya when his gaze fell on your lovely hands.

Before more than a startled noise could leave his lips, yours had parted in a mischievous grin, "And your business often involves 'hands so gentle I could never bear to recoil from their touch, even if they should wish to drive a knife through my heart', or is this a special case?"

A string of stuttered protests were all that left his lips in the wake of your question, seeing how the amusement slowly bled from your features only worsening his guilt. Not only were you subjected to reading that but here he was, unable to explain himself.

The feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair and the press of fabric against his cheek calmed his frantic heart a bit, letting out a sigh in resignation as Diluc allowed himself to hide his face in your shirt.

"I didn't mean to pry, I was simply worried because you hadn't come outside to meet me like we'd agreed," your tone was soothing, but the realisation that he'd forgotten the plans you'd made stung, "Adelinde came out and explained what was going on. I think it's sweet, if a little silly, to be fretting like this, Diluc. You don't have to prove anything to me, if you'd like, I can make a little list of all the ways I know you love me?"

Though it was said with a little chuckle, Diluc knew you were being honest, allowing himself a calming breath before trailing his fingers along your waist. He truly didn't deserve you, unable to even say aloud how deep his affection and gratitude ran, but he would make sure to treasure you in any way he could for as long as you'd have him.

Perhaps a list wasn't the worst idea.

My argument for how Diluc courts you like a gentoo penguin