Ok...I Feel Weird Posting Too Soon, But Here You Go :b

Another ones ehe

If you wonder, shes from liyue and is cryo too (maybe I'll make a post talking about her ^^)

yep, I'll definitely need more of this hehe (I really like it!)

Even Ice Melts | Chapter One

A/N - Hey there! This is my first time writing for Genshin Impact, and thats what this blog is gonna be, starting with this series. I'll most likely eventually create a masterlist and taglist if this gains traction, but in the meanwhile, enjoy!

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Despite having a female Archon, the Ton of Fontain, or at least the higher society of Lords and Ladies, remained as sexist as could be. I knew this, the other women knew this, hell even the Hydro herself knew it. So, when my father announced his retirement and promptly announced that my hand was up for marriage, I was unsurprised. 

I mean, after all, how was a little lady like me- despite my advanced training and having already done so- supposed to take over his company? Surely I needed a man, no, a lord to guide me in this troublesome endeavor of running the most successful food production companies in Fontaine.

That's what brought me here. To this eerily lit elevator of rusted metal descending beneath the depths of the Hydro nation. The ever-illusive Fortress of Meropide. Truth be told, I’m surprised that Neuvillette allowed me to go to the Fortress, but something about owing my family a favor let me slip through the secure cracks of this place. 

Two guards greeted me once I arrived at the bottom of my journey, and a short ferry ride later I was standing in front of a desk. A rather grumpy looking lady looked up at me from her seat. “Name?” She asked, barely glancing at me before filing papers on her desk.

“Oh, I’m not here because… I’m here to visit Duke Wriothesley.” I responded as she looked up at me, abandoning the papers beneath her. Her eyes glanced at the two guards behind me who confirmed my statement.

She rolled her eyes before groaning, “Fine. Down that hallway and to the right. The center building, you can’t miss it.” She reluctantly instructed as I gave a brief nod of thanks before setting off on my way.

The stares and whispers of inmates were eerie as I approached the… office? Two guards stood outside of the doors and looked at me as I approached. “I’m here to see the Duke.” I stated as I stopped before the door. The two guards looked at one another, almost uncertain as they opened the doors to me.

I wasn’t expecting to be greeted to an empty room, spare the spiral staircase that followed the circular room and a few boxes here and there. The guards that were my escorts had decided to wait outside, so the doors closed behind me and left me alone in the room. “I thought I told you to knock.” A male voice called from the second story.

I bit my cheek in thought before responding, “You never told me anything.” I called back and was met with silence for a moment. I debated going up the stairs, but instead a man appeared at the top. Duke Wriothesley. I had seen him before, albeit briefly, at certain social gatherings, but he looked more disheveled at his place of work. His shirt unbuttoned at the top, a loose fitting tie, his hair a mess, and his blazer being swapped out for a black and red coat lined with fur.

He looked me over for a moment. “You’re not a convict.” He declared, perking an eyebrow. “And you’re not a guard either. What are you doing here?” He questioned, his icy blue eyes almost penetrating a hole through me.

Almost. “Monsieur Neuvillette sent me.” I half lied as he stared at me unimpressed. “Well, he let me down here. Truth be told, I’m here to speak to you, your grace.” I curtsied formally as this seemed to pique his interest.

He folded his arms and looked interested. “Well, then by all means, come up and let’s talk.” He motioned to the bottom of the staircase before heading up himself. I walked up to find an office, and the Duke with his back turned to what looked like a makeshift bar cart behind his desk.

“Do you drink tea?” He asked, reminding me of the package that was held within my coat’s pocket. I nodded as he made a pot. He turned around, deciding it had steeped enough as he poured a cup for both me and himself before sitting down.

He brought the porcelain up to his lips, taking a sip before smiling to himself as he looked from the cup at me. “So, what’d you want to meet about?” he asked, this time his tone was far less interrogative.

I huffed a small laugh before grinning and taking a sip of my tea, all in attempts to reassure myself. “As I’m sure you know, or maybe you don’t,” I commented before placing my tea cup back onto the table, his eyes not moving from mine, “My hand is up for marriage. While I understand that you are one of Fontaine’s top…” I trailed off in thought, biting my cheek as I searched for the word.

“Bachelors?” He offered before taking another drink from his porcelain teacup. 

I met his smirk with my own smile. “Yes.” I nodded, picking up my own drink but not bringing it to my lips, “You aren’t exactly in the best of favor with the ladies and lords of Ton.” I informed him as he nodded with a certain admittance on his face.

“So, why are you here then?” Wriothesley asked, not necessarily in a rude tone, but rather defensive without aggression. “I’m not exactly looking to repair that relationship.” He spoke, his eyes now holding a certain fire to them.

I took this time to sip my tea and spoke as the ceramic left my lips, “I’m aware. Don’t get me wrong, I understand the people of the court are not exactly the… easiest… to get along with, however they do hold a certain power here, in Fontaine.” I nodded, looking from the brown liquid to the Duke. 

His icy eyes not leaving mine for even a moment. “To put it plainly, they don’t like you.” I admitted as he took in the information without shock. Or without anything, really, he had been stoic since his last speech. “They haven’t made any plans yet, but there has been talk about finding a new Duke of Meropide, one that may observe their traditions.” 

The man before me folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, looking at me with a certain amusement. “So, that’s why I’m here. To put it plainly, I hate the other Lords that are vying for my hand in marriage, and you need to be in favor of the Ton.” I spoke firmly, placing my teacup on the table as if it was the final piece in a game of chess. 

He puffed out a small laugh. “You’re here because you want me to marry you?” He asked, a playful smile now evident on his face.

“I’m here because you’re the best option. This can be a mutually beneficial affair.” His smile didn’t leave his face as he drank his tea. “As I’m sure you know, my hand is only up for marriage because my father is retiring. That leaves me to take over the company. I see no reason why Cafe Lutece cannot have a partnership with the Fortress, given your welfare meals are… Well, we can supply you with better ingredients at least.” I informed as he seemingly thought it over.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but typically the Lord is the one who will take over the company, what’s to stop me from doing that?” He posed, setting his teacup down. 

“You seem happily occupied here in your fortress.” I commented, looking at the walls around me before setting my eyes on his, the smile dropping from my face. “But make no mistake. If you decide to take me up on my offer, and take advantage of me, I have no problem with saying what I need to in order for the Ton to turn on you.” I spoke coldly as Wriothesley’s happiness seemed to fade, being replaced with the Duke’s coldness and strength.

He narrowed his eyes at me as I smiled at him. “Relax, your grace.” I commented, picking up my teacup before taking a sip. “You asked me what I’d do if you’d betray this deal. I have no intention of doing any of this.”

He takes a moment to think before going to speak, “I-” He was interrupted by the door downstairs closing. We both looked to the stairwell and saw a Melusine. Neuvillette told me about her, if I remember correctly her name is- “Sigewinne.” Wriothesley addressed her. 

The melusine looked surprised to see me, as she moved her startled gaze from me to Wriothesley. “I can come back at a later time.” She responded as I stood up, causing the pair to turn to me.

  “No need, I was just taking my leave.” I spoke before grabbing the sticker book in my coat pocket. “This is for you.” I spoke, handing the book to the melusine, much to the Duke’s dismay. 

She smiled up at me. “Thank you.” Sigewinne then turned to the Duke, “I like her.”

Wriothesley lifted his eyebrows in amusement, nodding. I then turned towards him, pulling out the neatly wrapped purple package that had been sitting in my pocket as well, placing the item on his desk. He looked up at me, confused as a small smirk held place on his face. “What’s this?”

“Well, I figured if I wanted you in my favor, I’d come down bearing gifts, your grace.” I smirked back as he responded with ease.

“Call me Wriothesley.” 

“Alright then, Wriothesley.” I tested the new word on my tongue, “This is a package of Sakura Blossom Tea from the Grand Narukami Shrine in Inazuma. The best you’ll find on the market.” I nodded, before walking to the staircase. 

“Goodbye Wriothesley, and do think about my offer.” I smiled as he gave a nod and I left, the doors closing behind me.

<*>

“Who was that?” Sigewinne asked, placing the drink she had made for Wriothesley on his desk, still staring at the spot where the woman once stood.

Wriothesly didn’t look up from where he sat, staring at the package while he smiled. “My future wife.”

THE CUT THAT ALWAYS BLEEDS

Keigo Takami is in love with you, and you don't love him back

Hanahaki disease, angst, fluff, workplace romance

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Keigo starts his morning the same way he has for the past two months, by coughing up a handful of bloody petals.

It splatters against the pure white of his toilet bowl, and he watches, knees digging into the floor and hands grasping the lid as they wash away, the water turning pink as the red petals disappear. It’s disgusting, really, the way he’s sprawled on the toilet floor, and on any other day he wouldn’t even consider touching the lid of any toilet, even his. But he doesn’t care, because the pain in his chest is aching, and his lungs burn as tries to breathe in, and Keigo cannot stop thinking about you.

The first time he’d coughed up a petal, it was after a week of pain. He thought it might just be the flu, or some other illness he’d caught from flying around in the cold winter winds. But then one night it had reached its peak, and Keigo was in slight disbelief at the red rose remains in his hand after he’d coughed his lungs out. It was small and bloody. He didn’t know what to think of it, so he didn’t. Maybe he swallowed something when he was flying, who knows. It wasn’t anything to worry about, he decided.

And then it happened again. And again. And it’s been happening ever since, now two months later, only getting worse and worse as the days go by. It was only after a week that he looked up his symptoms, the flowers and the blood and the constant pain in his chest, and the internet said there was only one thing it could be. 

Hanahaki disease. It originated in Japan, apparently, and was rare, but real. Keigo skipped past all the useless information to find what he really needed. He found it’s a disease where someone coughs up flowers due to unrequited feelings for somebody. And he knew, the minute he read those words, that his unrequited feelings were for you.

Keigo had never loved anyone in his life. Not his parents, for obvious reasons, and his training at the Hero commission had meant that he had no time for it anywhere else. Not that there was anybody in there to love, anyway. And now, as a Pro hero with his own agency, he didn’t want love. It complicated things, and he was in no position for a relationship anyway. He barely had time for himself, so how could he deal with a relationship? So Keigo filled the empty parts of himself with meaningless sex with whoever he found. At parties, at award evenings. It was just the physicality of it, skin on his own. He craved it and got it where he could. It pissed his publicist to no end, but they usually kept quiet, and scandals always did good for the agency. 

And then he met you.

His assistant had quit. Something about better opportunities, work closer to home. He had flashed her his best smile, sent flowers to her home, and waited dutifully in his office for you to walk in the next day. And you did, perfectly pressed shirt and black skirt, smiling so sweetly at him and introducing yourself, and he knew it was over. 

It’s not his fault. What couldn’t he love about you? You were funny, you were kind. You brought him breakfast every morning and started leaving a pillow and a blanket in his office when you knew he’d come off a night shift. You actually spoke to him like he was a person, not Hawks, not the Number two hero. It didn’t take long for the feelings to start but he thought he was pushing them down well enough.

These flowers tell him he’s not. 

He flirts with you, and the two of you joke around, but nothing ever comes of it because he knows you don’t like him back. And even if you did, Keigo would never do you the horrible favour of burdening you with loving somebody like him.

Keigo sighs, pushing himself gingerly to his feet. He clears his throat and it stings from the acidity of throwing up. He moves on autopilot, shrugging on his coat and typing the laces on his boots. His mind races with thoughts of you, of how long he has left. The final stages are apparently whole flowers and he ignores the voice in the back of his mind that says judging by what he just coughed up, he’s getting dangerously close to the end.

The weather outside is cold and bitter. Keigo hates winter, hates how he has to bundle to avoid the sharp, piercing wind whenever he flies. It’s harder to patrol in the dark and you’re less likely to leave the agency for your lunch break, so it also means he can’t use it as an excuse to take you out. He steps out on his balcony, sliding the door behind him, and he shuts his eyes.

Sometimes he thinks in another life, he’d tell you. In another life maybe he was just an assistant like you, someone normal, someone you deserved. That after his shift he’d get to come home and you’d have cooked dinner or he’d bring home takeout. He craves normalcy, to have a home with someone, and he can’t help but dream it’s with you.

He slips his goggles on and pulls up the gaiter around his neck. He steps forward and with one strong flap of his wings he’s in the air. 

The flight to the agency doesn’t take long. Nothing really does, to be honest. He’s not patrolling today but he still keeps an eye on the ground, the sky still dark as the world wakes up around him. He lands deftly in his own office, and the wide windows being pushed open already lets him know you’re in the building too. He runs a hand through his hair, quickly checking his reflection to make sure he looks good. He does, obviously, but he can’t help but worry. There’s a familiar knock on his door, and you don’t wait for him to let you in before you enter.

Today, you’re wearing a long pair of trousers that hug your legs, the white blouse you have on buttoned up apart from the top two, a small sliver of skin exposed to show a small gold necklace he got for you at a Christmas party, holding two coffees.

His heart pounds and he coughs into his sleeve. Your eyebrows furrow and you step forward, empty hand reaching out.

“Are you okay, Hawks?” You ask, and he nods.

He clears his throat, swallowing away the feeling prickling it. He nods, flashing you a toothy grin. “Yeah, now that you’re here.”

You roll your eyes but he doesn’t miss the small smile on your face as you set his drink down on the table. He takes a long drink of it and you wince.

“God, I don’t know how you drink that. It’s more sugar than coffee.” You scrunch your nose and he shrugs.

“I need the energy, babe, you know that. All that flying around burns calories quickly.”

One of his feathers shuts the window, another two hanging up his coat. Your eyes follow quickly. He might be trying to impress you a little, but it’s been a long enough time of you watching this show that he’s sure it doesn’t do much. The skin tight thermal might, though. He may or may not be flexing a little when he stretches, but he doesn’t see any harm in that. 

You nod, pulling out your phone, eyes quickly averting away from him. “Okay, so. Luckily for you, today is just paperwork. No energy necessary.” You sigh, sitting down heavily. “I hate paperwork days.”

He knows exactly why. The long, tired hours of writing and reading. Anyone would hate it, but Keigo? Keigo loves paperwork days. A whole day with the two of you in a room? What couldn’t he love about that?

He sits down across from you. It feels a little weird, too formal, with you across his desk. He doesn’t use it much. His office is pretty empty. There's no decorations, no plants, nothing. It's empty because Keigo doesn’t care. He doesn’t like this office. The only thing he likes about it is that it’s the place he spends the most time with you. He wishes you were closer.

He coughs. There's a familiar feeling itching in his lungs and he begs to a God he doesn’t know that he won’t throw up flowers in front of you.

“Aw, come on. Paper days are fine. And I’ll order food for us later.”

You perk up at that. “Really? Let’s get yakitori.”

“And this is why I love you.” He coughs again and you peer at him.

“Are you okay? You keep coughing today.”

He nods. “Don’t worry about it, babe, I’m good.”

You keep looking at him. “If you’re sick, go home.”

“No, I’m fine. The number two hero doesn’t get sick.”

You don’t look convinced but you hold up the first set of papers. His fingers brush against yours as he grabs them. The two of you sit in silence for all of five minutes before Keigo groans. You look up, amused.

“I’m bored.”

You sigh. “Me too. But as your assistant I have to tell you to keep going.”

Keigo pouts. You tap the pen in your hand against the desk.

“No way to get out of this?” He says. “Nope.”

“No work parties I can look forward to?”

You shake your head. Then you sit up suddenly. “Wait. Oh my god.”

Keigo sits up too, immediately mirroring your panic. His wings curl out behind him. You cover your face with your hands.

“What? You’re freaking me out, Y/N.”

“There is a work party! Tonight. That I’m supposed to be planning. And I completely forgot!” You groan.

Oh. That’s easier to deal with. “It’s fine, don’’t worry. We’ll sort it.” You shake your head and it ruffles your hair, and he wishes he could reach forward and brush it behind your ear. “No, I don't know what to do. It’s for Kaylee’s birthday! Everyone loves Kaylee, I love Kaylee, that’s why I offered to plan this for her.” You ramble.

Keigo catches most of your babble. He quickly moves off from behind his desk to stand in front of you, his hands coming to rest at your shoulders. “Breathe, girl.”

You do, chest moving up and down slowly. Like this, with you still seated and him standing, he towers over you. He thinks for a moment.

“Let’s just go now.”

“What?”

“We’ll just go get the stuff you need right now. Shouldn't be too much, right?”

Your eyes glance at the paperwork on the desk. “What about all that?”

He hums, and you look up at him again. This close, Keigo can see you so much clearer, so much brighter. Another cough rumbles in his chest and he ignores it. “We can do it another day. Blame it on me.”

You bite at your bottom lip, considering his offer. You stand up and nod, determined.

“Okay. Okay, let me get my coat. I’ll meet you at the front desk.”

And then you’re out before he can say another word.

—----------

Keigo thinks this is torture. Real, honest to God torture.

You’d refused his offer to fly to the marketplace, so now the two of you were just walking down the street. He’d left his feathers at work, and changed into the most civilian outfit in the agency. It always felt weird without them on his back, the heavy weight something he’d been used to since he was born. But for you, Keigo thinks he might set them all on fire. 

What makes everything worse is that you’re walking with your arm linked in his. You had been since you’d walked out the agency, animatedly talking and pointing at the things around you. It was hard to focus on much when your fingers squeezed his bicep every time you saw something you liked. 

“Okay, so. I need a cake, and decorations. And like, snack food.”

He nods. “Yes, ma’am. Can we squeeze lunch in there?”

“There’s always time for lunch, Hawks.” 

The first stop the two of you end up at is a supermarket. You pass him a coin to grab a shopping cart and he immediately starts running around with it, and you tut.

“Hawks, enough. People are looking.”

Your words should sound annoyed, but there’s a soft fondness behind them that has his head reeling. You take the cart from his hands and he lets you walk ahead, because the feeling that he’s started to dread builds in his torso, and he grabs the tissue out of his pocket and he coughs.

It’s loud and grating and it scratches the back of his throat. He’s lucky that there’s nobody around to see him gag into his hand, the petals tickling as he spits, blood splattering against it. He breathes heavily, once, twice, and tears prick at his eyes. He curses, eyes screwed shut. Not today, not like this. Not when he finally has a day alone with you. He throws the tissue in the trash outside the shop, and goes in to find you.

He finds that grocery shopping is fun. He’s never actually been before. His groceries are kindly delivered by the Commission straight to his front door, so he’s never actually done this before. It’s exciting. He likes the little line you get between your eyebrows whenever you get annoyed at him for putting random things in the basket.

“Hawks, enough! We don’t need six loaves of bread!”

“We do! We can make those little hors d’oeuvres with like, pesto on them.”

You mumble some choice words under your breath, putting them all back. “Hawks, this isn’t some Hero commission party. We’re getting a bag of Doritos and dip and calling it a day.”

Keigo pouts and you drag him over to the basket. “Here, you push this.”

You take him to the produce aisle and he boos as your throw in a few vegetables sticks. Keigo gags again, holding up the celery sticks. You snatch them out his hand and toss them back in the car.

“Stop. We need something healthy so we can eat a carrot stick and feel good about the cake I’m going to buy.” You tap your head knowingly and he grins.

“I don’t look healthy enough as is?” He stretches out his arm and the windblower you’d found for him in the agency billows around his arms.

You snort, patting him on the chest. “Oh, yeah. You look great.” 

It leaves him winded, just for a second, and then he’s back.

The cake aisle is his favourite one. You steer him clearly away from the children’s cakes, because he’s sure you saw the light in his eyes when he noticed the Marvel cake. 

“Can we get chocolate?” He asks, and you shrug.

“I don’t know. You know what Kaylee likes?” You step a bit closer to the shelves, peering at the different boxes.

Keigo hums, tapping the corner of his chin. He walks around the cart until he’s right next to you. “How about that? Red velvet. And it looks cute.” He points to the one near you, arm reaching over and brushing against yours.

“Hm. Yes. That’s- Yes. Red velvet.” You nod.

Keigo glances at you and he finds the two of you are closer than he realised. He thinks if he leans in just slightly you’ll be kissing. He smiles, soft and sweet. 

“You look pretty this close.”

“So I look ugly from afar?” You joke, but you sound nervous.

Keigo's eyes dart to your lips. It’s so quick but he sees the way your cheeks flush. “You never look ugly. Don’t I compliment you enough?”

You shove him away softly, reaching for the red velvet cake.

“Enough out of you. Go grab candles.”

And Keigo does, in the next aisle over, and hopes you can’t hear him coughing up another handful of petals. 

———

The two of you finish up quickly, despite Keigo’s efforts to long out the day as much as he can. The coughing only gets worse, and he’s surprised you haven’t noticed the amount of times he disappears to hack up his lungs around the nearest corner.

But it’s fine, he tells himself. This is about you, about helping you. He can deal with this problem later. 

You, who are sitting across from him in the tiniest table known to man at his favourite yakitori place. Part of him is a little annoyed about the whole ‘civilian disguise’, because whenever the owner sees it’s him he always gets a few extra sticks. But he can’t complain. Your legs are touching his, seeing as you’d shoved the both of you in the farthest corner of the shop possible. Which also happens to be the smallest in the shop.

“Okay, so, when we get back I’ll set up everything and we’re done!” You speak around a mouthful of food, chicken almost falling onto the table.

He nods, mouth also full. “Perfect. And you’re sure you don’t need help setting up?”

You shake your head. “I should be good, there’s not that much to do.”

You place the now empty stick on the table, dusting your hands. “Thanks for this, Hawks. Really.” 

He just smiles. “Don't mention it. Anything for my favourite assistant.”

“Aren’t I your only assistant?”

“So? You’d still be my favourite if I had more.” 

You snort, picking up another stick. “Sure, sure.”

The grocery bags crinkle beneath the table. And like this, without his wings and without any eyes on him Keigo can be selfish and pretend like this is real. 

You glance around the restaurant. “I like this place. Why haven’t we come here before?”

Keigo shrugs, polishing off another two sticks. “It’s usually busy around our lunch time. We should come more though.”

You nod. “Definitely. There’s this ramen place too, we should go there. It’s by that supermarket we went to.”

It’s so casual, so calm, and his heart is racing. 

“Oh! I found this song. I think you’ll like it.”

You dig in your purse and pull out the same ratty wired earphones he makes fun of you for everyday. He rolls his eyes and you glare at him.

“No. Shut up.”

“Just let me buy you a nice pair of AirPods, babe. Seriously, these are dying.” He flicks the wire that’s covered in tape and you tut, pushing his hands away.

“Never. I'm a wired earphone supporter till I die. Come here.”

You scoot your chair closer to the table, but they don’t really reach. “Fuck. Okay, wait.”

You stand up, dragging your chair so it’s right up next to his. You sit down, and your hand comes up to brush his hair out of the way so you can press the earphone in his ear. And if you see his breath hitch you don’t say anything. Just hit play, your own earphone in.

And the pure bliss of having you this close, close enough that he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume, lasts about a minute before he starts coughing.

He reels it back as much as he can, wincing as he swallows the petals that try to crawl their way out his throat. He drinks water, washing away the taste of metal from his mouth and he barely even registers your hand on his shoulder.

“Hawks? Are you alright?” There’s panic clear as day on your face, and he nods.

“Y-Yes. Don’t worry, I think I just swallowed a piece of chicken wrong.”

You’re not convinced as easily as before. “That didn’t sound normal, Hawks. Should we take you to the doctor?”

“No, it’s fine, babe. I promise.” 

He holds up his pinkie. You just stare at him for a moment, eyes searching for a lie. But you seem to believe him, because your hand comes up and your finger curls around his.

——-

The party is going well, he thinks.

Kaylee looks happy. You did well with the decorations, as best as you could do with an office room and an hour. There’s pink balloons and streamers that Keigo wants to scream that he bought with you. But that’s stupid and desperate, so he doesn’t. 

You’d all sang and cheered as she blew out her candles. She looked nice but Keigo couldn’t keep his eyes off you, grinning so hard it was like your face was about to split in half. People were milling about now. Keigo likes to think he knows all his employees but he’d be lying if he said he recognised every face that had come to greet him.

There is one face he could recognise anywhere.

“Birdbrain! What are you doing here?”

Rumi’s voice is loud and full of energy, and he can’t help but mirror the grin on her face the second she claps him on the back.

“It’s almost like this is my agency.” He raises his eyebrows. “What are you doing here?”

“Kaylee and I know each other from ages ago. She used to intern when I was working with Best Jeanist.”

Keigo nods. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a guy approaching you. One of the office workers he can’t name. His wings are back on his body and he wishes he could send one over to listen to what you’re talking about.

“But- Are you even listening to me?” Rumi says.

“Yes. I am.”

“No. You’re not.” 

Rumi follows his eyeline, to where you’re handing out slices of cake. She nods, understandingly. “I see. Have you asked her out?”

“What? No. Why would I- She’s my assistant.” Keigo splutters.

Rumi laughs, clapping him on the shoulder once more. “Oh, Hawks. Has positions of power ever stopped you before?”

Keigo frowns. “No, it’s not like that. I’m not trying to just hook up with her.”

“Oh.” Rumi looks at you again. “You actually like her?”

“Yes. No. It’s- It’s complicated.”

Rumi hums thoughtfully. The two of them were quite blatantly staring at you now, and Keigo is sure you’d be quite weirded out if you caught them. But he doesn’t need to worry about that, because your attention is stolen away by some guy. Keigo doesn’t even know his name because he’s some irrelevant worker that doesn’t even matter.

But he seems to matter to you. Because you are smiling and laughing, and you nudge his shoulder when he says something Keigo itches to hear.

“Well. Maybe try telling her. She won’t wait around forever.” Rumi nods towards you and he shakes his head.

“That’s… I don’t- Just leave it.” Keigo’s voice sounds bitter in a way he’s not used to, and Rumi peers at him.

“Birdbrain? You doing okay there?”

He’s not. How could Keigo be doing okay, when Rumi is annoyingly right? You won’t wait forever. Keigo doesn’t even have forever. He has a few weeks left if his research is correct. And for some dumb reason Keigo didn’t seem to think about the fact that he might live to see you with someone else.

You move slightly closer to him, and Keigo’s fist clenches. 

He doesn’t even know the guy, but can he be surprised? You’re perfect, you’re you. It makes sense that he’s not the only one in love with you. Keigo sees the hand this guy places on your elbow, the way he smiles at you whenever you laugh. He knows that look because it’s how he looks at you everyday. 

And then it starts. Slow and slight. It stirs in his lungs, just a tickle, but he knows, he knows what comes next.

Rumi notices the way his face pales, and she shakes his arm. “Hawks? You’re freaking me out, what’s wrong?”

And he tries to answer, but all that comes out is a choking noise he can’t even recognise as a sound his own body made. And the feeling builds up all too quickly, and Keigo thinks he might be dying. He’s rushing out the room to try and make it to the bathroom, but he doesn’t make it further than out the door, because the pain in his chest is splitting, like somebody is trying to push their way out of his skin. He drops to the knees and he clutches at his stomach, and he coughs and coughs and there’s blood, and there’s flowers now, fully grown flowers-

And then everything goes dark.

——————

Keigo opens his eyes to the bright white ceiling of a hospital room. It’s not something he hasn’t seen before, and the slow blink back to life and the few seconds of peace before the pain kicks in are always the worst. He blinks harshly before slowly, slowly sitting up, arms almost buckling from his weight. 

He hates the weakness that comes with injury, the embarrassment. If he was still training at the commission they would’ve sent him back on the field before he’d even gotten up. But, he doubts he’d have gotten a disease quite like this over there.

It’s only after he’s pushed himself into a sitting position that he sees you. 

Arms crossed as your head leans back against the wall behind you, asleep. He has no idea how long it’s been, but judging by the fact you’re still wearing the clothes you were wearing in the office, he assumes it’s the same day. He glances out the window and its pitch black.

And you look beautiful. Even with the mascara smudged beneath your eyes, the worry on your face even visible in your sleep. Keigo looks away, but not before you wake up and catch him staring. You blink like you might be dreaming, before you bring your chair closer to him.

“Hawks. You’re- You’re awake.” You whisper the words like if you say them too loudly they might not be true.

He smiles as best as he can. “Hey, pretty. The party still going on without me?” He tries for a joke but your eyes prick with tears. 

“Don’t. Don’t joke right now. Nothing about this is funny.” You sound serious in a way he’s never heard before, and some sick, twisted part of himself is giddy that it’s all for him.

“You promised you were fine.”

Keigo wants to turn away because the hurt on your face is his fault.

“I’m sorry. I just-“ He sighs. “Did you see?”

“Yes.”

“Did anyone else see?”

“No. Rumi stopped them from coming out into the hall.”

He nods. You shake your head, hand coming up to rub at your eyes. 

“How long has it been?” He asks.

You check your watch. “It’s one in the morning so. About six hours.”

Keigo falters. “Wait- You’ve been here for six hours?”

You frown. “Well obviously. I- They said I’m your emergency contact. And someone had to be here to tell you what the doctor said.”

He knows already. From the sharp pain in his chest he knows.

“I’m assuming you know it’s Hanahaki?”

He nods. You nod.

“You-“ You curse. It takes a few moments for you to get the words out.

“He said you don’t have long. The petals, he said they’re starting to look like flowers. Fully grown ones. And that means you’re in the final stages.” Your voice cracks and Keigo thinks he might throw up again.

“Okay.”

You pause. “Okay? Is that all you have to say? Okay?”

Keigo frowns. “Y/N, I-“

“Do you not get it, Hawks? You’re going to die. He says you’re going to die if you don’t either tell the person or- get the surgery done.”

Keigo shakes his head immediately. “I’m not doing the surgery.”

Your lip quivers and you pull yourself even closer. Your hand grabs his and it’s cold where his is warm, and you squeeze. 

“You have to, Hawks. The world can’t lose you. I can’t lose you.” You whisper.

And your words sound so raw, so vulnerable, and it tears at his inside more than the roses growing inside them.

“Just try. Try, okay? Tell them how you feel and see. It- It might be reciprocated. It definitely will be. I mean, who wouldn’t be in love with you?” You laugh wetly, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

But there’s something else behind them.

Jealousy.

And there’s a small flicker of hope that grows beneath his bones. And he looks at you then, at the tears that gather on the bottom of those fluttering eyelashes. And he reaches up, brushes the curve of your cheek.

And your breath hitches. He feels the heat on your face from how close he is, and he thinks he might cry.

“It’s not fair.” His voice sounds so weak, so awfully weak and he wants to scream. 

“What is? What’s not fair?” You ask.

“I can’t tell her. I don’t deserve her.”

You look so confused. Like he’s said the dumbest thing in the world. “What?”

“I’m not- I work almost everyday, and when I am off I’m too tired to do anything. My place is more of a prison cell than an apartment. I- I’ve never even been in a relationship before. Never even thought about it. I can’t- I’m not allowed, Y/N.”

And now his voice cracks and your hand squeezes tighter. And his voice sounds unfamiliar. This desperation, the frantic panic that fights against his words is so unlike him. Keigo has never been vulnerable with anybody in his life, but that look in your eyes makes him feel like he can tell you everything. All the dirty horrible secrets he keeps locked inside himself.

“It’s not fair. I don’t know if I can even be there for someone. It’s why I never said anything, I didn’t want to mess up a relationship that’s so important for me for one I can’t even commit to. It’s not fair on you, Y/N. You deserve better.”

He feels like there’s a weight that’s left his shoulder when he finishes speaking, rambled words he can barely remember. He’s out of breath when he’s done. Waiting anxiously for you to say something. Maybe this real version of Keigo is too much for you. He has half a mind to tell you it was just a joke, he didn’t mean it if it means you’ll stop looking so shocked. Keigo just needs you to say something.

“I deserve better?”

He doesn’t expect that. “What?” He says, confused.

You swallow roughly and he watches the sharp lines of your throat as you do so. “You said ‘you deserve better’. You as in, me. As in… I’m the one you have feelings for?”

Shit.

“I- Did I say that? I think it’s the medicine, it’s making me all-“

“Are you in love with me, Hawks?”

The room isn’t silent. The machines he’s hooked up to all make a low humming noise, and he can hear people and nurses walking and talking outside. But when you say those words it feels like the world has stopped. 

He could lie. But Keigo won’t get the surgery, so he figures he might as well let you know how he feels before he dies.

“Yes.”

You freeze for a moment. Then your hands come up to cover your face and he immediately misses the contact. And then your shoulders start shaking and he thinks you're crying.

Keigo sighs. “It’s not that awful of a thing. No reason to cry.”

“I’m not crying. I’m laughing.”

When you look back up at him there are in fact tears running down your face, but you look happy. And hope claws its way out of him.

“This funny to you?”

“No. Your stupidity is, though.” 

Keigo is quiet for a moment, confused. “Do you mind elaborating on that?”

“Hawks, do you think it’s normal that I do all your paperwork with you? Or that we get lunch together almost everyday? Do you think any other assistant in all of Japan would stay as late as their boss, especially when he’s a top ten Pro hero who rarely finishes before ten in the evening?”

“I-“

“Do you think it’s normal that I wear this necklace you bought me everyday?” And you reach into your shirt and pull it out, the gold catching against the light.

“Hawks, I spend every waking second I’m in that agency with you if I can help it. I’ve had job offers a million times better than what I do for you, and I’ve rejected every single one because I wanted to be with you.”

Keigo doesn’t say anything. You grab his hand again, but it feels a little more threatening this time.

“You don’t get to decide if I deserve you or not, I do. It’s- I can’t believe you. I don’t care about all that. We’ll figure it out together.”

And Keigo just closes his eyes, because this can’t be real. He must be dreaming, because Keigo doesn’t get things like this. Love. Nothing like that look on your face that’s all for him.

“You sure you're not just saying this because I’m dying?”

And you laugh, and let your tears fall freely, and Keigo can finally breathe clearly for the first time in months.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

this is for lysa if ur anyone else stop reading...?

JKKKKK guys i love hawks so much i can't explain... he was my lover for so long i miss him

also i loved writing this i literally did it in ONE NIGHT?? plz give me more ideas pookas

LOVE U ALLL HAVE A GOOD NIGHT

save me your grace.....your grace save me......

Lil fella came home yay

hehe, Im already interested to read this ^^

Prologue

pairing: Wriothesley x f! reader

trigger warnings: violence, blood, murder, imprisonment, suggestive, ptsd, mentions of child abuse

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The streets of Fontaine were bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun, casting long shadows and giving the city an almost ethereal glow. The meeting with the Iudex of Fontaine in Palais Mermonia had been as expected—tense and bureaucratic. Discussions about the affairs related to Meropide were never easy, but the Duke was thankful for the cooperation and support he often received from Monsieur Neuvillette.

Wriothesley’s heavy footsteps echoed against the cobblestones.  He rarely ventured to the surface, but duty had called. Now, as the golden hues of the setting sun bathed the city in a warm glow, he made his way through the bustling streets of Fontaine. The surface world, with its vibrant life and spectacle, always felt a world apart from the fortress he governed.

He exhaled slowly, a sigh mingling with the evening breeze, as his thoughts drifted to the faces of the prisoners. Each one had a story, a past, and sometimes, Wriothesley wondered if he would ever truly understand morality as a whole. Lost in contemplation, he barely noticed the few passersby giving him a wide berth, recognizing the emblem of his station and the aura of authority he carried. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he navigated through the throng of people.

He barely registered the world around him until a sudden impact jolted him from his thoughts. He had collided with someone, and the force of it sent them both stumbling.

“Oh, for the love of–!” The exasperated voice brought him back to the present. He looked down to see a young woman picking herself off the ground, brushing the dust from her garments. Her eyes, alight with irritation, met his, and she frowned deeply.

“Watch where you’re going, will you?” she snapped, not caring that he towered over her. Wriothesley found himself momentarily speechless. The setting sun framed her face, casting a radiant glow that highlighted her delicate features. Her beauty struck him, the kind that seemed to draw the light towards her, making her skin glow and her eyes sparkle with an inner fire.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he managed to say, his voice softer than usual. He noticed then the bouquet of flowers scattered on the ground, petals crushed and stems broken. Flowers? A curious pang of disappointment twisted in his chest. Did she have a suitor already?

"You should be more careful! It is a busy street!" she retorted, dusting off the last of the debris. Her eyes darted to the ground where a bouquet of flowers. "Great, just great. Now I have to remake this bouquet and I'll be late for the delivery."

Wriothesley watched as she hurriedly gathered the damaged flowers, her frustration evident. She handled the blooms with a surprising tenderness, and he felt an inexplicable urge to assist her.

"Let me help you," he offered, kneeling to pick up a few of the scattered flowers.

“These were for a customer,” she explained, kneeling down to gather the remnants of the bouquet. “A difficult one at that.” She sighed, still irritated. Her hands moved with a practiced grace, but there was a hint of urgency in her actions.

“I’m really sorry about that,” Wriothesley repeated, a hint of guilt creeping into his tone. He handed the flowers he’d picked to her and she was already on her feet, clutching the ruined bouquet.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, her irritation giving way to resignation. “I’ll just have to work faster.” She offered him a brief, distracted smile, more out of politeness than anything else, before dashing off down the street, leaving him standing there.

Wriothesley watched her go, her figure soon swallowed by the crowd. He stood there for a moment longer, the noise of Fontaine’s streets fading into the background. The warmth of the setting sun lingered on his skin, but the encounter had left a different kind of warmth in his heart. He absentmindedly reached up to adjust his collar and felt something unusual. Pulling it free, he found a petal of a red poppy flower nestled in the fabric. He held it between his fingers, its vivid color a stark contrast to the muted tones of his attire. The petal, delicate and vibrant, seemed to carry a weight of its own, leaving him with a sense of unease. With a final glance at the direction she had gone, Wriothesley turned and continued his walk, his thoughts no longer solely occupied by the fortress of Meropide. The image of her fiery eyes and the way the sunlight had kissed her features stayed with him. He resumed his journey back to Meropide, the image of the spirited florist and the red poppy petal lingering on his mind.

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Nahh, just felt butterflies when he was snuggling haha!

cw: suggestive content

“the fortress of meropide takes full responsibility for the beret society incident,” wriothesley states, heaving a sigh. “it was…an unfortunate oversight on my part.”

“it’s not entirely your fault,” clorinde tells him. “don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“thanks,” he grins, slightly surprised by her attempt at comforting him. “never thought i’d see the day—”

“don’t push it.” 

“come on, just admit that we’re best friends!” 

neuvillette clears his throat, like a parent would before lecturing a child. “what steps have you taken on behalf of those affected? many families of the victims have written to my office, requesting indemnification. it’s been explained that the court of fontaine holds no jurisdiction over the fortress. the matter falls into the hands of the warden.”

“i’ve moved some funds around to properly compensate everyone who was affected.” he answers, handing over a report outlining the details. “i’ve also compensated the doctor you sent to the fortress quite generously, as she’s taken on the responsibility of overseeing their continued care.” 

neuvillette chuckles quietly as he reads the report. “is ‘compensate’ new slang for 'intercourse?'”

one beat of silence. then two. clorinde snickers behind her teacup. wriothesley briefly considers swan-diving into the primordial sea. 

“why— why would you ask that?” he sputters instead.

the chief justice simply continues on reading, oblivious to the scandalized reaction of his companions. “oh, calm yourself, your grace. i was merely jesting, no need for anyone to be embarrassed.”

“yeah, if you’re him,” clorinde scoffs, jerking her thumb in his direction. “but if you’re the doctor in this situation…” 

“okay, your best friend status has officially been revoked. and you, chief justice! since when do you jest?”

“since it’s come to my attention that you both hold great affection for one another. sigewinne corresponds quite frequently with the other melusines here at palais mermonia. we know all about you and the doctor’s whispers of desire.”

clorinde chokes on the pastry she’s eating as wriothesley rises abruptly, his face suddenly hot. he swears the tea they’d been sharing is laced with something. “okay, you have my report, this meeting is over.” 

_____

“i got bullied by the chief justice and a champion duelist today,” your boyfriend pouts as he joins you in bed.

you bite back a smile as he pushes his head against your chest, snuggling contentedly against the silk of your chemise. 

“i’m having a hard time believing monsieur neuvillette would do such a thing.”

he releases a long, dramatic sigh as your fingers scratch lightly at his scalp. “can you do me a favour and tell him, in explicit detail, just how well i’m ‘compensating’ you?”

wriothesley yelps when you pinch the shell of his ear. “oh, hush,” you laugh, kissing the top of his head. 

not one to be outdone, the duke sits up, effortlessly trapping you beneath him and nosing at the column of your neck. you shudder as his teeth graze your ear in retaliation, your hand gripping the soft strands of hair at the base of his neck. 

“wait,” you gasp as you feel his lips form the beginning of what you know will be a very visible hickey tomorrow. “do you hear that?”

your boyfriend draws back to look down at you, concerned. “hear what?”

“it sounds like…a whisper of desire.”

“hey!”

I FINALLY FINISHED HER

i really had a hard time drawing her mouth, rather drawing this one or just mouthless/j :D

just wanted to join the Mirko Art trend :>

welp, I need to find this fic ;-;

I was just seeing on with what bot I could chat with (looking for some of Wriothesley's Im bored asf) and I found this one of Cyno, and well, it drawed my attention hehe, just wanted to know if someone knows this fic?

Btw, @cherieblaire's bot in Character ai (sorry if my grammar is bad, Im still getting used to write in english)

Just wanted to share this (pretty heehhe) dabi I drew in class (so damn proud about this one)