Four Characters That Make You Yell: " My Man, My Man, My Man! "

hello everybody!

quick change of username:

skywalkiings —> melukonova

will also be changing my theme soon once i post another chaotic smau post and will also be writing much more now that my schedule has freed up! <3

cyno on TOP FR

congrats on 100 luma<33 just a quick question, can i ask for a drabble (with wriothesley maybe? cause ik cyno and kazuha are in ur oc ships so i’ll feel bad asking bc i understand ab that frfrfr) & a match up? :0 i’ll make my forms once i get confirmation for both :>

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀

featuring — cyno, y/n y/l/n

summary — your crush finds you studying in the akademiya library late at night and offers some support.

warnings — cyno x gn!reader, tired!reader, fluff, soft!cyno, confession, he makes a dumb joke at the end

messages from the galaxy — hi sky!! idk much about wriothesley unfortunately :( but i will write for cyno for u bc im not as attached to him as i am with like kazuha, xiao, or scara (plus i make exceptions like this for friends if im not completely attached to them) hope u enjoy <33 i’ll get to ur matchup when u send the form!!

the dim lights above you were the only thing keeping your papers visible in front of you. it was late at night and you needed to turn in an essay the next day that you were barely prepared for.

you were tired and drained from school. the work was piling up and it was exhausting you. you kept pushing through but eventually you felt like you were going to crack.

“what are you doing up so late?” a stern voice pulled you out of your deep thoughts. “cyno!” you exclaimed, nervously. sure, you might’ve been your average akademiya student but you managed to become good friends with the general mahamatra.

“i have an essay due tomorrow and i barely started it,” you explained, turning your attention to him.

“hm,” the white haired man hummed. “may i keep you company?” he asked, glancing at the seat beside you. “perhaps i can help.”

“i’d love that. thank you, cyno,” you replied, sighing in relief. he smiled to himself, taking his seat.

cyno was a great help, he pointed out key details and descriptions in your books and helped you implement them into your essay.

even after you finished your essay, you wanted to stay and chat with him. he was so busy that you barely got to have a conversation with him.

“thank you, cyno. i don’t think i could’ve gotten this essay completed so quickly without you,” you said, gratefully. “it’s my pleasure, you know i’m always here for you, y/n.”

“oh, well thank you for that. i don’t know what i’d do without you,” you responded, avoiding eye contact due to being slightly flustered by his words. “me either. i value having you in my life. you’re a great person and tighnari thinks we’d be great together,” he admitted, without thinking.

“what?” cyno’s eyes widened, finally realizing what he said. “my apologizes. i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” he shook his head. “do you…like the idea of us being together?” you asked, deciding you could blame sleep deprivation if he declined.

“i..i do,” he responded, inching closer to you. slowly, you tilted your head, kissing his lips. he cupped your face and melted into the kiss.

once you pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours.

“you must be a dictionary, because you add so much meaning to my life,” cyno said. “enough with the jokes!” you pulled away, laughing over how corny it was.

he meant it though. you meant so much to him.

diorlumx productions, 2023

Uuuh, I'm going to be honest, I've never dropped a request before, so I'm sorry if I screw up! But Could I please get a Cloud Strife with a cuddly/huggy reader who likes to hug him a ton and cuddles? If it's not too much to ask!

| Cloud Strife With A Cuddly Reader |

[ Cloud Strife x GN! Reader ]

CW + Tags: None. A bit sad but mostly soft. Some references and spoilers to Crisis Core (Borderline major?) (Established relationship. GN! reader.) Summary: How Cloud feels having a touchy and cuddly S/O.

[ (A/N): Good lord anon. I haven't wrote for Cloud in a bit and I'm so sorry, but I loved writing this! I'm kinda sad now though. ]

Cloud would be a bit shy with the affection at first. It’s oddly surprising, or perhaps foreign or long forgotten?

Would he hate it? Nope. Maybe just don’t do it when out in public or around Avalanche, he might freeze up.

But in the cozy and private confines of your dwelling together, Cloud will allow it. He may even step out of his comfort zone a tiny, leaving you with gentle touches that may leave you shocked.

Totally the type of guy to let you rest your head on his lap while he doing things, and if he feels up to it he'll rub your hair gently.

But I think there's another huge reason he likes your touch; his trauma.

It comforts him a lot, and there are late nights where he wakes up in a cold sweat with what he's gone through (Oh, Crisis Core..)

So during those moments, Cloud will actually lean on you for them. He feels safe, despite the nightmares and hallucinations from the mako.

In a way, it's sort of a reassurance to know you're still here with him despite what he's lost. It may take a bit of time for him to warm up to you at first, but he'll get used to it and eventually secretly crave your affection.

"Hey. I wanted to ask, but may you—oh, you can tell? ..Okay. Thank you, love."

if ellie’s ur n1 fan im ur second biggest fan <33

I ACCEPT THIS AAAA<33 thank you for being my fan too luma 🫶 and i’ll be your second biggest fan too :P

Teeny Nishi(noya) HCs -(G/N) Reader

summary: pretty much just living life with a pocket-sized noya 

genre: crack. just pure crack with maybe a hint of fluff

warnings: poor grammar, none

word count: 1019

Keep reading

໒⦂ 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

notes. hi mikan, so sorry for the delay! it was hard to choose songs for your request because there are only so many romantic songs left on reputation and i didn’t want to paint the boys as toxic :’) i hope you enjoy!

genre. fluff / suggestive ( scara’s ) + mild angst

for @alatushours <3

ft. xiao, kazuha kaedehara, albedo, scaramouche ( wanderer / kabukimono / kunikuzushi / balladeer )

previous post includes. tooru oikawa, alhaitham, kaveh, ayato kamisato, ajax ( childe / tartaglia ) click here!

gender neutral! reader

ะ ྂ ❤︎ . ˚˖ now playing.. end game.

+ about. end game tells the story of a yearning love where both sides have what most consider big reputations that will cause a lot of talk to rise up regarding them. one yearns to be with the other and not end up as another ex love, but rather the one — their end game.

+ xiao is known for his title as a yaksha and an adeptus, in other words — he has what most would call a big reputation in liyue. his is painted as noble and heroic, whereas yours paints you as someone soaked in drama, all because of media. if you were to be with him, your relationship would certainly make it into conversations, which is something you don’t want. you want to be his first string — his lover, not some other ex to be laughed off because of your past relationships or a one night stand. what you don’t know, however, is that xiao couldn’t care less of what is said about you. he wants to be yours as much as you want to be his. he’s not as perfect as you paint him, he’s got karma surrounding him and past regrets that make him dissatisfied with many aspects of himself, but he knows that you would love him regardless of his flaws as he would love you regardless of yours. he would only believe the truth from your red lips, not the rumors surrounding you.

+ “i wanna be your end game.”

ะ ྂ ❤︎ . ˚˖ now playing.. new year’s day.

+ about. new year’s day tells the story of a love in which one fears the other will leave, for fear of the rumors surrounding them and the reputation they have earned themselves. they pray the other will stay through the worse and will in turn be there to squeeze your hand, through your bluest days.

+ kazuha blew one of his bangs out of his tired eyes, looking to the clock mounted over the doorway. it’s passed midnight with glitter all over after the party, polaroids, and emptied bottles of champagne scattered from the toasts to the new year. everyone had just about left, leaving the two on your own. there was a mild anxiety that swirled in your stomach, recalling the conversations that were shared regarding your history. your boyfriend wasn’t normally one to care, he was carefree as the winter breeze singing outside. but even still, your worries could not be quelled as you gazed at his back until you were all the way out of the building. eventually, you lowered your eyes to the ground until his hand grabbed your own, squeezing three times. surprised, you looked up to find his gentle smile — an assurance to say he wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. and that he too, wanted your midnights as much as you wanted his, regardless of everyone else says.

+ “but i’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year’s day.”

ะ ྂ ❤︎ . ˚˖ now playing.. dwoht.

+ about. dancing with our hands tied tells the story of a love that was once secret, for fear of what would become of it if the wrong lights shined on it. such a precious and endearing love, with nothing in the world that could stop it, no matter what was to happen. regardless of what everyone else says.

+ albedo wasn’t one to care or easily worried when it came to other people’s opinions. if people wanted to speak ill of him and his choices, then that was their lives they were wasting, not his. however you wanted secrecy for the beginning, as you were recovering from heartbreak and just overwhelmed with being spoken of in such a foul manner. albedo understood this and respected your wishes, as he didn’t mind secrecy either. but eventually the relationship did come to light. there were supporters, encouraging the relationship while wishing you both well. but of course, there were also those who wished badly upon you being together, which at times, created obstacles for the both of you. at times it made it difficult to breathe and fight through it all. ending it almost felt like the only way out. but albedo wouldn’t throw away something so dear to him. as he would stay until the room burned, holding you as the water rushes in, if he could dance with you again.

+ “yeah we were dancing, dancing with our hands tied.”

ะ ྂ ❤︎ . ˚˖ now playing.. ready for it.

+ about. ready for it tells the story of a competitive love, in which both sides have bad reputations, whether in terms of past loves or just the people that they are. as both are seen as cruel, alternatively it could open opportunity for a relationship to blossom in the darkest of circumstances and gossip.

+ scaramouche has a history that followed whatever path he walked, whether it had been erased, rewritten, or not. people knew to steer away from his direction, yet that gravitated you. now you weren’t a bad apple, but you weren’t an angel either. the people surrounding you had painted you in a light that wasn’t so bright, and shone through all the wrong aspects of yourself. however the same could be said about scaramouche. some boys tried too hard to get with you in the past, but he didn’t try at all to get your attention. being ignored was almost frustrating, yet enticing — it made you want to play this game of getting him to notice and fall for you. the boy would cave eventually like the rest did, you knew that for a fact. and if the former harbinger knew the dreams you had in the middle of the night about him, if he saw the things you both did — he would come sprinting. although, you would take your time, because you knew you were going to be with him.

+ “are you ready for it..?”

notes. unfortunately not a lot of romantic songs remained after the first post i did so i tried my best to pick from the remaining ones to fit the characters :’) don’t blame me and so it goes were candidates but they didn’t really fit the bill much.. regardless i hope these are okay! first time writing scaramouche and albedo..

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

say you'll remember me.

pairing. jingyuan x gn. reader.

summary. you've disregarded time long enough, and now there's a million things both of you have yet to say, but the other is slowly fading away — so much, you've become utterly unrecognisable to one another.

Time kills just as ruthlessly as any other weapon — death is a mercy, now that you’ve seen what other horrors have been brought from forsaking one’s humanity for the price of more time.

You’ve become a victim to such yourself, the curse that had been passed down from your ancestors mistakes, have finally caught up to you.

You hate them for it, all this pain you now suffer, of the petals having begun to crawl their way up your throat, and the hacking coughs riddle your body. Those words of a ceaseless hatred repeat within your mind, as they suffocate you — drowning you in a sea of these cursed flowers.

Such affliction kills you slowly, tearing apart your body and mind, as you can only accept your inevitable descent into madness. Your thoughts are already a jumble of anger and regret, as you look down at the sprouting growths that have spread over your body. It disgusts you, to even look upon your face in the mirror, which is far beyond recognisable.

You don’t know what you even are anymore. You don’t know anything. Pain has taken over your entire body, each movement tearing into a part of you — you cannot think of anything beyond it. It’s all a blur, you cannot focus on anything except your own anguish, the world having faded to obscurity around you.

You’ve started to forget. You feel your grip on the precipice that is your own mind slipping.

You think you would rather rip your own throat out and bring an end to this suffering, because you know there is no cure. In the thousands of years you’ve been around, no one has found one. Yet the healers still believe they can, that they are close.

You want to die already. They’re clinging to a fool’s hope, forcing you to cling to life — a life you no longer can stand to live.

But you’re chained to a bed as a precaution, unable to rise nor speak, silently suffering, your thoughts unbeknownst to the two people who circle around you — a small purple Vidyadhara, who feeds you spoonfuls of random concoctions, and a silver-haired man who looks at you each time with pained sorrow in his golden eyes.

You want to say something, because it hurts, each moment you spend here; except nothing escapes your lips but a muffled sob. The male reaches out as if in response, but his arm is smacked away by the healer. He shouts something indiscernible — perhaps it was your name.

You don’t remember. You don’t remember his name either. But it was the faintest shred of familiarity.

Strangely enough, you feel a surge of unprovoked anger at the Vidyadhara girl who had pushed you apart. A sudden burst of strength courses through you as if in response, writhing against the chains that hold you down, reaching for him.

He’s still looking at you, but he’s drawing back — recoiling, and you feel as if you’re being pulled away from your last remaining anchor of familiarity, your fingers slipping away from these memories, your extant shreds of humanity. You want to call out his name, but you don’t remember.

You want to remember. Yet you only know flashes of pain and rage, constrained by these chains — they bind you to this earth, this reality of suffering.

You sound as if you’re screaming your outrage to the heavens itself, a strangled noise escaping you as a wave of madness takes you, blindly lunging for him to no avail — all while Jingyuan can only watch in stunned silence.

It hurts him to see you in this way, but sometimes, Jingyuan is grateful for those chains. It’s a reminder of restraint to himself, for he wants nothing but to hold you and whisper reassurances in your ear, yet it’s with resignation, he knows it won’t do anything to help you.

He doesn’t know what you would do anyway — you’ve grown unpredictable. Some days, you lie completely still in contemplative silence, your eyes glazed over and blank, while others you’re thrashing around, threatening to snap the chains that bind you.

The look in your eyes is animalistic, feral even. There’s barely a hint of recognition within them.

Everytime you lock eyes with him, his heart sinks further into desolate hopelessness. He knows you’re unable to see him in the same light you once did, your memories of him ruptured by the mara that tears you apart in both mind and body. Your reaction to his touch is something of a stranger’s.

He’s lived too long, seen too many deaths, watched as those close to him perish as well, none of them immune to the madness that stemmed from their own roots. It finds a new way to hurt him every time, as he thinks of his mentor Jingliu, and the remainders of the high cloud quintet — all who’ve met such violent ends.

Sometimes, he wishes it was him that had gone mad alongside them. It hurts far more to witness it all from the side, unable to do anything — nothing had struck him in the heart as much as you had.

You’ve lived forever in his memory since the day you first met, and he still remembers that day, among so many others. He reminisces upon them, as you are before him.

It’s been so long since he’s heard your laughter, much less see you smile.

He wants to stand under the sunset again, amongst that field of marigolds with nothing but the feel of the autumn wind blowing through his hair, and your hand in his. And when you had laughed, it was like music to his ears, the merry tinkling of bells — you were simply exquisite, breathtaking beneath the golden light of the setting sun.

He remembers placing a flower in your hair, brushing it back as he had kissed you. Your lips tasted like honeyed wine, addicting and divine — Jingyuan could barely bring himself to part with you, after having savoured such for so many years. If he had known what would soon befall you, he would’ve never let go, memorised every inch of you.

You’ve never had enough time.

It’s one of his fears. That one of you is left to persist in eternity, having to bear witness to the other fall victim to the mara that inevitably overtakes all of you. To live in regret, left to carry nothing but memories within an empty heart.

But not the greatest.

Jingyuan remembers you asking this too, laying in his lap as you had gazed upon the stars in the sky above.

"What's your greatest fear?" you had asked, back when this future hadn’t yet become your reality.

It had all seemed like a distant dream then, when you had eternity stretching out before you. But how quickly such illusions of time had been shattered, these statements turned true.

"To be forgotten," he replied. "But not just that. To be forgotten by a person who I could never forget."

But even you have forgotten that.

✧ ◜ WORLDS APART.

pairing. welt yang x gn. reader

summary. you’ve travelled through countless worlds together, but there is an end to every journey, a divergence of paths — as the inscriptions of the stars detail your final movement.

notes. imagine having his light cone and not welt @astrolins (loser),, likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

You still remember the day when you first looked up to the stars, and to the galaxy beyond.

You had been enraptured by its beauty almost immediately, the world beneath your feet infinitesimal in comparison to the vast universe before you. How you wished to traverse among the sea of stars, and see a world beyond these skies; make it so your dream was no longer distant in your eyes.

Others had done it in the past, so what was to stop you?

“We can do it.” You had promised the boy beside you, who had looked upon the universe in equal wonder. He peered up at you over his square rimmed glasses, a small smile forming on his lips as he squeezed your hand in reassurance.

You were inseparable back then, bound by a dream. And it was upon such dreams that carried you through all the disasters that had befallen you on your journey — there was hope to see something beautiful at the end. You’ve witnessed the destruction of worlds, but you too have seen such marvellous wonders.

And as lost as you may have felt in the expanse that was the universe, you were never alone. Welt had been your constant companion, an anchor to the only piece of home that you had, while drifting from place to place.

Perhaps having been in your life for so long, you had started to care for him more than just a friend. You’ve been by his side far longer than you have without; so much, you don’t remember a time without him. When you wake from a nightmare, it's always his arms you want to reach for, and words of reassurance you want to hear from his lips. You crave his touch.

Despite all this, you can’t bring yourself to continue upon this journey you had set off on together. When you follow the path of the trailblaze, the future is unpredictable, your fates uncertain. Each trip has a chance to be your last.

You had set off with nothing but the sky in your sights, but now it doesn’t rest solely on traversing through the universe anymore, like you had dreamed of as kids. It’s become a mere fragment of what you wish to do; a starting point, now you’ve seen what is offered beyond.

He reaches for something higher, a far nobler goal, and you can only follow him — fulfil your wishes together. Yet with each near-death experience you have, it adds to the growing fear that you’ll lose him one day, when a single trailblaze mission goes wrong.

Of course, he’ll always try to protect you — when the world is at stake, he will become that hero without hesitation. But it doesn’t eliminate those worries from your mind, when you think for yourself, and not for the both of you. He may be strong enough to continue along this path, but you are not.

He can’t protect you forever.

His selflessness would be his downfall, and you don’t want to be the cause of it — to be a burden he has to constantly protect, holding him back. But even when you’re not there with him, every minute he’s away, your worries for his own safety grow as you pace the corridors of the Astral Express, praying for his safe return.

Relief fills you everytime, when you catch sight of the brunette at the doors, running over to embrace him. He doesn’t see the worry you’ve gone through — he only sees a friend that’s glad to see him back.

He doesn’t see you how you see him.

He doesn’t notice the way your eyes flicker to his lips as you fix his collar, your sharp intake of breath as you force yourself to step away, to a distance respectable of friends. He doesn’t know how you want to close that distance, greet him as a lover with the touch of your lips, rather than an embrace that grows more distant day by day.

What if you were just a bit more selfish?

The path of the trailblaze is not for you. You only continue to push forward because of Welt. You’ve followed him along this path for so long, riddled with such contradictions. You love him, but you constantly endanger yourself and him, chasing something that could be unrequited by staying at his side.

You want to find your own purpose, but it’s out of the same love again, that stops you from leaving his side, you don’t want to leave him alone to travel through the universe. You know he would never leave the Astral Express — not when there are people out there who need to be saved.

You know you have to make a choice. And the day the express pulls into the Herta Space Station, you’ve decided.

“I wish to stay as a researcher here.” You say abruptly to the express crew, who are now looking at you with a range of expressions from shock to disappointment. “Herta herself has offered me a position.”

March and Pompom both have their mouths wide open in surprise, while Dan Heng merely shakes his head, sighing. Himeko looks on as she’s been expecting this, but you can see that she understands. You can’t bring yourself to look at Welt.

He’s the one who steps out first, and then you can see the anguish on his face at this sudden revelation. He doesn’t know how to react to this information. You’ve been with him for so long, and he couldn’t believe it was now that everything was to come to an end.

He wonders if it is him that has done something wrong. But despite such, he understands. You had both travelled through countless worlds, but he was the one who fought to be their saviour. It was a dangerous path to follow, and you had been in the background of it all, only wanting to take in the landscape and all the curiosities you’ve unearthed.

He realises, in his own fixation on everyone else, he had never included you in the equation. Only when it's been pushed in front of his face, this new reality in which you were to be separated — he curses himself for being so blind.

You can study the worlds you’ve wanted to see now from afar, and he no longer has to fear for your safety, with all the battles he has dragged you into. If this was what made you happy, and kept you safe, he was in no position to stop you.

“Y/N.” He starts. A part of him still wants you to stay with him, and it takes all his willpower to force that feeling down, to think rationally. But the words don’t fully come out as he wants. “I’m sorry.”

You only give him a sad smile in understanding. “It’s for the best.”

“I know, but—” He sighs.

You let him pull you into a hug, and then you’re both teary eyed, holding onto each other in silence. There’s a million unspoken words on the tip of your tongue, but in your already aching heart, you cannot bring yourself to say them.

You’ve chosen your own happiness and safety over staying by his side. You’ll part as friends and nothing more. It already hurts enough, and to insinuate something romantic would make this parting all the more painful — whether by rejection or longing.

But still, in the moment where you pull apart to finally look each other in the eye, you can see that he too wants to say so much more to you. He brings his hand up to gently stroke your cheek, wiping away a lone tear that has trickled down your face.

“I know our journey together has come to an end. But our friendship is something I will forever hold in my heart.” Welt manages to say, but you know he’s struggling for words, as he gazes back at you, his usual demeanour faltering.

His touch lingers on your skin, as if he’s reluctant to move away, but he eventually settles on placing a firm hand on your shoulder.

“One day, if I too grow tired of faring between the stars, I will find a way to come back to you, and we will return home together. Right now, I can rest assured that you are safe.”

Perhaps you should’ve said the same of him, made him seal that promise. But you’re already overwhelmed with enough emotion, tears blurring your eyes as you watch him slowly walk away. Each step seems more painful than the last, further tearing that divide in your heart.

The rest of your goodbyes are a blur, and by the end of it, whatever else you might’ve wanted to say, have long become lost on your lips — even if you remember, it's too late, the Astral Express now nothing but a faint star in the distance.

You should’ve chosen your last words more carefully — something you’ve come to regret.

Because when that transmission comes through, that the Astral Express is gone — you sink to your knees. You don’t want to accept it. It feels as if you’ve lost a part of yourself alongside it, despite the ties you’ve cut.

You had been awaiting the day where you would be reunited once more, to say those words you had wanted to say a long time ago. But now they lay unspoken for eternity, because Welt was gone forever. He had died with the thought you had only loved him as a friend.

When you gaze at the stars twinkling outside the window, you wonder — would things have been different, if you had not made the decision you did?

Perhaps in another universe, you kissed beneath aureate painted skies, at the dawn of a new journey.

++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

[summary] wrio’s spouse winds up in prison. special treatment ensues.

[cws] gender neutral reader. fluff.

“What you did was incredibly stupid.”

“I’d like to think it was very brave, actually.” You quip back, lips pursed as you turn up your chin. “You should be proud of me, really.”

“I should be proud that you got yourself thrown in prison?” You don’t have to look up to know that Wriothesley is sporting an incredulous expression. “Did they knock your head around a bit before bringing you down here?”

“You’re acting like I murdered someone.” You finally meet his gaze, and you resist the urge to sink down into your seat at the clear disapproval in his eyes. “All I did was—”

“Break into the Opera Epiclese and destroy government property.”

“That’s such a trumped-up charge!” You huff and roughly cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing as you think back on the charges that had been slapped down onto you by that damned archon. “You trip in the dark and accidentally fall into the oratrice and all of a sudden you’re a criminal. Hmph!”

“Yeah, exactly. It also doesn’t help that you broke in—”

“—I left my bracelet in there after the trial! Was I just supposed to leave it behind and potentially lose it forever? The condition of the lost and found in that place is downright terrible—the guards pocket all the good stuff.”

“You could have bought another one.”

“Not like this one.” You look down to the gray bracelet encircling your wrist, and a warmth spreads in your chest as you gently twist it around, finger rubbing over the messily written engraving on the inside of it. “This was a gift.”

“Hardly.” He sighs, and your eyes flick up to watch as he runs his hands through his already messy hair. “It’s just scrap metal I bent up and welded because I couldn’t buy you proper jewelry back when I was a prisoner.” It’s his turn to look at the bracelet.

“You were so creative back then.” You smile a bit wider. “I remember you used to have something new made every time I came to visit you. What was that one thing you made? The one that we painted together?”

“The ballerina music box.” He groaned, looking a bit embarrassed, and you snapped your fingers.

“The ballerina music box!” The ballerina was a bit oddly shaped, and the box had sharp corners on one side and rounded on the other, and the song the box played was distorted and sounded more creepy than relaxing due to some disfigured cogs, but you loved it nonetheless, and had even sobbed in thanks when he had first presented the gift to you. “I love that little box.”

“It looks like a child made it.”

“A child in the throes of eleazar, yes,” you nod, and his mouth opens a bit in surprise before he huffs out a laugh. “But I still love it… because you made it.” You give him a sweet smile, and you can see him soften up before your very own eyes; broad shoulders losing that rigidness, lids lowering, crease between his dark, thick brows disappearing.

“You’re tryin’ to butter me up.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “Is it working?”

“Not at all, jailbird.” He gives you a smile of his own, and despite the clear sarcasm in it, you can’t help the little flutter your heart does at the sight. “No special treatment for you.” So he says, yet he had placed a cup of tea down for you the moment you were brought to his office, and had even tried to inconspicuously nudge the basket of cookies in your direction, pretending not to notice when you reached for one. “Spouse or not.”

“What a mean man.” You slouch down in your seat. “I treasure the gifts that my lovely, amazing, strong, handsome, and so so so incredibly smart husband gives me and what do I get in return? A criminal record and unfair treatment! I’m suing the entire nation the moment I’m free!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand in the air as if fanning away the conversation, and now it’s your turn to huff. “For the few days that you’re here, you’ll be working directly with me in exchange for coupons.” He takes a slow sip of his tea, adams apple bobbing as he swallows, before gently setting the cup back down onto its small plate. “I’ll make your first job real easy to get you in the swing of things.”

“How kind of you.”

He just barely contains an amused smile. “Very. Now…” He shifts in his seat. “Give me a kiss.”

“I’m married, Your Grace.”

“I’m sure your husband won’t mind. Kiss. Now.” He taps a finger against his lips, and after a moment you stand up and round his desk, hands finding his shoulders as you bend at the waist so your noses brush.

“My husband is a very good fighter, by the way. When he finds out you twisted his spouses’s arm like this, he’ll pummel you.”

“I can handle him.” A hand snags you by the waist, forcing you down into his lap, and you only have time to let out a quiet yelp before Wriothesley’s lips are on yours. The kiss is slow, sensual, and it brings a warmth to your cheeks and covers you with a bashful cloak when he pulls back to let his eyes roam over your face. “I’ve gotta say… your husband is a real lucky guy to snatch up someone as cute as you.”

“Hmph. Seems like you’re trying to butter me up now.”

“Is it working?” He presses his face into your neck, his lips pulling into a smile against your skin, and you have to fight back one of your own.

“Not at all, jailbird.”