#i’m supposed to post another diluc fic but bam new diluc scenario

[butteronabun]

note: feel free to read the prequel first!

If there is something you are most proud of – it is your courageous spirit.

As the Lady of the House, it’s expected of you to be timid, soft–spoken, and docile, but unfortunately, much to the elder nobles’ dismay, you are the opposite of that. You do not have those traits.

You’re like a volcano. You explode and terrify what’s close to you due to your powerful outbursts.

Well, that’s not the only thing that’s really special – you know how to control your emotions. You know how to read the mood. You know how to fight for yourself. And if there’s anything that causes you great trouble or to the Winery, of course, you’ll boom. Especially when you have something to protect, and especially when you are Diluc Ragnvindr’s wife, who seriously has been through a lot.

You had to strengthen your will. You had to toughen up.

( And perhaps. . . that’s one of the reasons why Diluc is so enamored with you in the first place. You and your fiery personality; you and your passions; you and — ah. Everything about you. )

So. . . you’re not really scared of anything. Abyssal creatures? Nah, you’ll just scowl at these fellas and wield your weapon. Heights? You’re an adrenaline junkie. The dark? Wow. It makes you sleepy.

Ghosts? Well.

Recently, there have been rumors spreading amongst the maids. Of course, since you’re close with the girls – nothing bypasses you. And as the Lady Ragnvindr, you have the right to know what’s going on.

According to Hillie and Moco, the manor is haunted. Maybe it’s because of how old it has been, or maybe because of the previous ancestors who have resided here before. They claim that they have been seeing sightings.

So yeah, more or less, they do believe it’s haunted.

You, however, beg to differ. You are a skeptic at heart, and you definitely do not give a fuck on the paranormal — you respect the spirits, though, and only wish that they’re all resting in peace.

( Also, as an act of revenge after the Windsor Knot incident, you have been playing pranks on the maids. One of which was you playfully shaking the chairs they’ve been sitting on from behind. The ladies screamed. You laughed in mirth. Adelinde smiled amusingly at the background. )

Then one random night, while you are reading one of the novels you bought earlier from the city, you heard something.

That typical knock.

Of course, there are multiple sources for that knock. It could be anyone because there are also people inside the manor. But it’s goddamn late, and you know that you’re the only one who’s awake at this hour, because you’re waiting for Diluc.

Unlike the maids who will simply ignore and close their eyes to pretend that nothing happened, you rise from the bed, and put on a robe. You’re brave. You’re courageous. You’re skeptical. As you saunter towards the door, you grab the nearest object - a bat - and said bat is from another nation. Diluc acquired it for you because you’d gotten interested in it, but it’ll be a story for another time.

The door creaks ominously when you pull it open. Again. You’re brave. You’re courageous. You’re skeptical. It’s dark now, since Adelinde has mostly turned the lights off, and you rely with the orange glow coming from the bedroom. This doesn’t scare you at all. More than anything, you’re annoyed - because really, who dares to mess with you during this time?

Is there a fool who managed to get inside the manor? They’re seriously just asking for a death wish! Just because the Master is not here yet doesn’t mean his wife can not fight.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you swear you saw a shadow down the hallway. Again. This really doesn’t scare you.

It angers you. Infuriates you. Because. Really? Seriously?

You sigh, and walk in that direction casually with your weapon. Let’s just get this over with, you think, Jude and Cardan’s waiting.

With narrowed eyes, you prepare yourself. If it’s a thief, or a ghost, whatever – it is unfortunate for them to face your wrath. Trespassing inside the manor? Interrupting your reading time? Absolutely unacceptable!

So when you turn, you aim and whack at the shadow without any hesitation – not until said shadow predicts your moves first, and fights back.

You blink in surprise, “Wha—“

There’s a loud thud.

The bat falls on the ground. You are also on the ground. And the shadow, the ghost—

— is pinning you down.

You feel your blood boil. You are brave. You are courageous. You are skeptical. This doesn’t really scare you, at all! You demand, “WHO the hell are— mmmph!!?”

A hand covers your mouth from speaking. You’re about to bite the hand due to the audacity, until a familiar scent floods your nostrils — grapes and firewood — and an even familiar color of hair reveals itself from the shadow figure’s cloak. Familiar red hair hangs over the sides of their head. Oh.

Oh.

The shadow figure seems to realize that you’ve calmed down, and elicits a quiet, incredibly charming chuckle. He removes his hand from your mouth, and you exhale in relief.

“This is scandalous. What would my husband say, letting a ghost pin me down?” You ask, and reach up to caress his cheek. You can’t see him behind the mask, but you know he’s being endearing as always.

“Hm? I am not a ghost,” Your beloved Darknight Hero replies. “I am your husband.”

You snicker. “You look like a ghost. Humor me, will you?”

“But I really am not? I am your husband.” He insists, and you feel his smile on your fingers. He takes ahold of your hand and kisses your palm.

Diluc says tenderly, “I’m home.”