A Dozen Reasons To Love You

⠀⠀⠀‍ ⠀⠀⠀‍ ⠀⠀trio of inazuma?! 🗯

icons cr sgm618 on twitter.

• like/reblog if u save

_SiMeOn lAyOuTs!!

✩ ⃝🚬 ࣪ 🪸 ࡛ 🏵️ ⃝ ࣪ ‼️⃘

  📿 ⁠☆  ִ 💢 © :: buruchii  ★  🧣 ✧

in the safety of your arms, he can exist.

wanderer x reader

summary: when the past comes to haunt him in his sleep and he wakes up in a panic, there's an unspoken agreement that you leave him be and never speak of it moving forward. however, he can only pretend for so long.

genre: angst/comfort, fluff warnings: descriptive nightmare word count: 1,347

a/n: i'm back with more fluff ╰ (´꒳`) ╯ this one's kinda dark, not sure if nightmares should be a warning but figured i'd add it just in case. enjoy!

every now and then when he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, it feels like he’s there again. surrounded by raging flames in the middle of a small burning house with danger closing in and despair bubbling under his skin, forced to face a reality he never wanted to be a part of. 

those words that had once given him another sliver of hope,

“but what if… hearts can be born from ashes?”

faded away in a storm of ash and soot, fueled by the bitter flames of deception. 

why him?

what did he do to deserve this?

why won’t anyone just stay with him?

he drops to his knees with a wretched sob, vision swimming with tears that fall from his eyes with practiced ease. in the distance the sounds of familiar voices grow louder as they approach, cackling and chanting while the puppet digs his nails into the ground. 

he can pick out every individual voice, can practically see their faces as they antagonize him from every direction. the one who abandoned him, the one who feared him, the one who lied to him, the one who tricked him. they all smile and laugh as their detached heads dance around him in a maddening show of victory, as if they’re celebrating the way he curls up and frantically covers his ears. 

let me out.

they inch closer, he can feel their breath against his skin every time they open their mouths. 

let me out let me out let me out.

the one who tricked him suddenly grows a twisted, clawed arm that starts reaching towards him, hand outstretched aiming right for his chest. 

LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT-

he jolts awake and lurches forward with a gasp, arms immediately wrapping around himself as he quivers in fear and waits for the hand to grab him. 

one. 

two. 

three seconds pass before he realizes the voices are gone, the roaring sound of flames replaced by a dead silent room accompanied only by the sound of soft breathing somewhere next to him. 

he slowly lifts his head to peer over his shoulder and ends up meeting your eyes from where you were sat scribbling away into a journal before he suddenly sat up. you acknowledge each other, and there’s poorly hidden concern all over your face, but no words are spoken and you shortly go back to what you were doing before, the way he demanded you to the first time this happened. it was just a senseless nightmare, he doesn’t want nor need your worry or pity. 

he tries focusing his attention on objects around the room, willing his limbs to stop shaking so hard he can barely keep a grip on himself, but that feeling won’t go away. he can still feel multiple pairs of eyes staring through him, hear whispers of their elated mockery in the air. but no matter how hard he tries, minutes pass by and a lump starts forming in his throat with each ticking second. 

he can tell you’ve noticed this when he hears the sound of your quill against the paper slow to a stop, knows you’re looking in his direction, but he keeps his head tucked down into his knees and bites his tongue against the way he’s about to fall apart at the seams. 

“hey,” you call out softly. the sound of your voice rings clearly in the silence and tears immediately start gathering in his eyes at your gentle tone. 

on the other side of the room, you’re fidgeting with the pen in your hand and trying to carefully select your next choice of words as to not worsen the situation. he looks so lonely, so afraid all curled in on himself while using every last bit of his willpower to keep it together, and you are so, so tired of seeing him suffer. 

“are you…okay?”

three words, and the dam breaks. when he slowly lifts his head to face you there are tears streaming freely down his cheeks in fat droplets and a remorseful look on his face. not towards you, but towards his own weakness and the way he failed to keep it under control over nothing more than a measly nightmare. 

your eyes soften immediately at the sight and you’re up from your seat in an instant, silently crossing the room while the wanderer glares at you through his blurry vision. he tenses up as you hesitantly sit next to him with your hands clutched tightly together in your lap, wanting so badly to help but not wanting to cross a boundary while he’s in such a vulnerable state. 

you both stare at each other silently for a few seconds before you finally speak up, voice coming out as an unsure whisper. “do you wanna talk about it?”

he bites his lip and shakes his head, a movement so slight you only managed to catch it because of the moonlight peeking in through the window behind him, and nod your head wordlessly in response. he’s still shaking, you can feel it under the shabby mattress you’ve been calling a bed, and your hands start reaching towards him before you can even register the decision to do so. 

you only managed to lift them a few inches before there’s a sharp intake of breath and he curls in on himself impossibly tighter, seeing a flash of the jagged hand that had been reaching out to grab him before he had woken up. you freeze and quickly bring them back to your lap as guilt rushes through you. “sorry! i’m sorry, i-“

you cut off your apology when he says something, so quiet and muffled that you can’t catch a single bit of it. 

“what?” you whisper softly, meeting his eyes again as he slightly unfurls from himself. 

“please,” he repeats himself louder this time. there’s a heart wrenchingly desperate sort of look in his gaze has you instantly forgetting all of your previous awkwardness as you lift your hands again and hook them around his body to pull him into your embrace. he looks furious, uncomfortable, and anxious all at once, but in the end the grief he’s remembering so vividly overpowers everything else and he lets you tuck his head into your neck with a defeated sob. 

his arms finally unwrap themselves from around his knees and he immediately clutches onto your shirt for dear life as you hold him. he really is trembling like a leaf, body so tightly wound that he feels almost entirely solid against you. on instinct you start absentmindedly running a hand through his hair in a comforting manner as his tears dampen your shirt, yet he makes not a single sound as he cries silently in your arms. 

“shhhh,” you whisper gently, tightening your hold on him a fraction as the situation starts to catch up with you and you feel tears start to prick your own eyes. “you’re okay, it’s okay. everything is fine.”

with the rhythmic feeling of your fingers against his scalp and your steady heartbeat to fill the silence of his racing mind, his shaking eventually slows to a stop and his tears finally run dry as you continue to hold him and coo soft reassurances every now and then until your eyes are starting to slip closed with fatigue. 

he knows he should be embarrassed, ashamed, angry, and so many other things, but in the safety of your arms he can’t bring himself to fight the lull of your steady presence, so instead he mutters a weak and exhausted, “don’t leave me.” into your shirt. he didn’t intend for you to hear but, of course, you did, and like it’s the most obvious and casual thing ever respond with an equally as quiet, “okay.”

this time, when his eyes slip shut and he falls into unconsciousness again, the past leaves him alone. in the safety of your arms, nothing tries to haunt him. nothing holds him back. 

in the safety of your arms, he can exist. 

『♡』 "just look at me, forget everything else" + alhaitham (tw: injury)

he knew the symptoms of shock well.

it may not be his expertise, the human body and all its intricacies was never of much interest to him. leave that to the doctors and biologists of the world — he knew what he needed to know to get by, and turned his attention elsewhere.

your body is wracked with shivers, pupils blown out, hands clammy to the touch. the piercing wound in your side red and angry; an eremite had been aiming for his blind spot and you intercepted it in his stead.

“eyes on me.” he tilts your chin upwards with an uncharacteristic gentleness. “just look at me, forget everything else.”

he needed to keep you calm. alhaitham knows he’s no good at this kind of thing, but he cares too much about you to let you die.

“you’re going to go into shock if you don’t slow your breathing,” his grip on your hand tightens, “deep breaths, not shallow.”

“sorry, i’m sorry,” your teeth chatter, and he sighs, quickly shedding his coat and placing it on your shoulders. his hand strokes up and down your arm, trying to warm you up.

“stop apologizing.” his stern green eyes meet yours, “i’ll get you back to aaru village and they can bandage you up there. but before i move you i need you to calm down.”

“i’m never taking a hit for you again, asshole.” you mutter out through clenched teeth, and alhaitham grins.

if you still had that much bite, he wasn’t going to lose you. good.

genshin needs a baseball episode

perfect places. — a gift from kunikuzushi to you.

scaramouche x gn!reader ꨄ 774 words ꨄ more utc!

i love flowers and i love my little guy so… why not put them in a fic together :’) i think this might become a series, the other fics including the rest of his gifts maybe! im open to ideas!

ꨄ

the picture-perfect garden was the first of kunikuzushi’s many exquisite wedding gifts given to you the during the week after the wedding. the garden was luscious, overflowing with life, and matched the inazuman-esque estate the two of you resided in perfectly. the garden was complete with tiny rolling waterfalls flowing into the massive pond, polished stepping stones leading up to purple-roofed walkways built over the reservoir below, and lanterns strung from the otogi trees that gave the place a soft glow. kunikuzushi liked to watch you feed the koi fish that inhabited the pond in the morning, your form bathed in the glow of the sunrise and gentle cascading sakura petals. seeing you in this light, he truly believed it was you who was divinity’s incarnate, and not himself. your initial reaction to the gift rather pleased him, your praises making him both happy and smug– because of course you loved it. it was his idea, after all.

—

“kuni?! this is incredibly–this is really.. thebestgiftihaveeverreceived! oh, it’s so romantic! how did you even do all of this–when did you even?!” you exclaimed, still taking in garden that seemed like it was taken right out of some old, charming film.

“if i told you, i’d have to kill you,” he smirked, finding your excitement as endearing as ever. tugging gently on your hand, he begins to lead you through the entrance archways.

“oh, giving me the tour now are you? way to dodge the question, honey,” you snickered, fingers interlinking with his.

“it’s not exactly rocket science, i merely hired the right people.” he exhales out something between a scoff and a laugh before continuing, “barely, might i add. i had to supervise them for the entirety of the project, lest they interfere with my planning. you’d think they were babies or something” he rambled, rolling his eyes at the mere memory of his attendants. just how was it possible they were considered some of the best craftsmen mora could buy?

“there’s my kuni, scaring the innocent people of teyvat shitless, as always” you tease. stopping at the balcony, you rest your forearms on the banister overlooking the rolling water below you two, lost in thought as you admired the subtle reminders of his love for you spread throughout the garden, something that would remain hidden to an outsider’s eye, while you and your lover would cherish them. you see, to any other person, kuni’s personal selection of flowers would only be seen as delicate, one-of-a-kind, and most of all expensive. you couldn’t get these blooms just anywhere. but to you and your husband, these flowers represented a story, a heartfelt memory the two of you shared. these flowers are not precious because they cost an arm and a leg to import– they are precious because in each petal lies the timeline of true love.

you don’t even feel kuni’s arms wrapping themselves around your waist to bring you closer, as he leans to press a fleeting kiss to your collarbone. “that look of wonder on your face clearly tells me how well i impressed you–no need to be in a rush to tell me or anything.”

“what a dramatic man i married,” you lightly laugh, tilting your head up to envelop his lips with yours, smiling into the kiss when he deepens it. when kunikuzushi pulls away, your eyelids are still heavy, his lips ever so slightly brushing against yours, as he confesses, hushed, “this garden is the personification of my love. so know that if there is ever a time words fail me, let it speak on my behalf” he whispers, thumbs cradling your cheeks.

it’s only when your honeyed gaze stares into his does he register just how soft his words were, so he abruptly turns around, his back now facing you in a desperate attempt to conceal his blush. clearing his throat, he says, “of course i knew you’d enjoy the garden, which tells me you’ll also like the other gifts i have saved for the rest of the week. you’re predictable, after all.”

“you mean there’s more?!-”

— wondering which flowers made it into the garden? what they mean? have a look in the floriography book! ꕤ

camellias to show his longing for you.

dahlias, for you are his eternal love and his sole commitment.

hawthorns, for you are his standing hope.

honeysuckles, for his devotion and affection know no bounds.

ivy, for his attachment and fidelity cannot be measured by mortal means.

lilacs, for his first love.

finally, lily of the valley, for you by his side was his return to happiness.

ꨄ

cooking wanderer's signature dish for him

wanderer x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 988

a/n: short one today! not feeling too good about this but just wanted to push something out and this was buzzing around in my head so i figured i'd write it out real quick. btw i'm doing requests now! check pinned for more details (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*。

he’s absolutely unconvinced you can make anything without ruining it. 

a few mishaps in the kitchen was all it took for him to take over the stove and only let you help with preparation when you won’t stop pestering him about it. 

doesn’t even hesitate to grab things out of your hands and move them across the counter when you try helping. will also step in front of you to push you away from the counter which drives you crazy. 

he actually genuinely enjoys cooking for you, but equally enjoys pretending it’s because you’re a safety hazard and watching you get angry about it. nothing beats lighthearted bickering with you. 

given your dislike for cooking in the first place it all works out for the most part, but after seeing him make a simple meal from leftover rice and tea one night, you wanted to try finding quick and easy foods to throw together. 

this specific dish of his had been on your mind ever since he first made it for you, yes because it was delightful, but also because it was clearly one of his favorites and you couldn’t help but want to try your hand at it for him. 

fortunately, once a week, he and nahida meet up to discuss things so it’s not long before the perfect opportunity presents itself. 

“do you need something?”

you shake your head no from where you’re peering over his shoulder with rapt attention, watching the way he skillfully puts together some sort of inazuman dish you haven’t seen before. the wanderer’s hands move across the cutting board like they’ve done it a million times, which they probably have, and it’s near fascinating to watch. 

“just looking.” you respond absentmindedly. your breath tickles the back of his neck, and for a split second he almost fumbles with the knife and heaves a deep sigh like you’re being a nuisance, but at the same time steps to the side so you have more room to see him neatly chop up some herbs that seem to be one of the final touches. when he’s done, he scoops the small pieces into his hand before sprinkling them over the rice and tea filled bowl sitting off to the side of the counter and topping it off with a pickled plum. 

“there.” he boasts proudly, presenting the bowl with a grin. “shimi chazuke.”

“it looks good.” you say honestly, bringing the dish to your mouth and taking a sip, and then, “it tastes good!”

your eyes are bright and earnest when you meet his and he clicks his tongue to distract himself from the way your words make his chest flutter. “don’t act so surprised, of course it does.”

as always, you immediately play along with his attitude and set your lips in a grim line. “i lied, it’s awful. never make this again.” 

when you set the bowl down and start to walk away he sputters and starts briskly walking after you, grumbling lighthearted curses and calling you a terrible liar along the way. 

ever since that day, he’s made that same shimi chazuke a handful of other times and the urge to try to make it yourself and surprise him has been strong. now, with nothing but determination on your mind, you’re ready to put your observation skills to work and perfectly replicate his cooking before he comes back from his weekly meeting with nahida. 

as carefully and precisely as you can, you go through the same preparation process you’ve seen so many times and slowly but surely a deliciously smelling bowl of shimi chazuke is nearly done. 

it’s right when you’re adding the toppings that he returns and soundlessly walks inside and stops behind you with a frown. you know he’s there but wait until you’ve finished sprinkling the herbs on top before glancing over your shoulder to see him standing with his arms crossed watching you. 

“you made a huge mess.” he comments in a bland tone, eyeing the dirty dishes and spilled tea on the counter. 

“welcome back.” you completely ignore what he said and hand him the bowl, which he takes cautiously and holds out in front of him like it might explode. despite this, there’s a softness to his expression at coming home to find you making one of his favorite foods, so he wastes no time in lifting it up and thoughtfully taking a sip. 

you stand in front of him nearly vibrating with anticipation, and like the insufferable punk he is, keeps his words to himself while he also grabs a pair of chopsticks to take a bite of the rice and check the texture. you stare intently at the way his jaw flexes as he chews, and when you cross your arms in front of yourself with an impatient huff he finally turns to look at you. 

“not bad. looks like you can be good at things after all.” 

contrary to what he says, the gentle hand that comes to rest on top of your head and the appreciative smile on his face have butterflies erupting in your stomach and a matching grin to accompany his own breaks out across your cheeks. 

“clearly you should let me help out in the kitchen more often then.” you muse smugly, to which he retracts his hand like you burned it and turns away with a scoff. 

“in your dreams.” 

“fine, then i guess you wouldn’t mind if i finish this for you?” before you can even bring the bowl from the table to your lips he reaches over and carefully snatches it from you so none of it spills over. 

“that won’t be necessary,” he says sharply, pouting slightly as you softly laugh. you both share a knowing look as he holds the steaming bowl to his chest, one that brings soft color to his cheeks in a way only you can manage. 

“and… thank you.”

꒰⁺˖͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏Rui Kamishiro ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏˖⁺꒱

— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ vill-v layouts!

🔌⚙️ like/rb if you like/save/use ♡