Hazyspells - Hurt/comfort Enjoyer ♡

ONLY FOOLS FALL FOR YOU. ( alhaitham x reader )

╰┈➤ some feelings came to haunt you after ten years since the last time you saw him.

pairings — alhaitham x fem!reader.

warnings — rivals / enemies to lover ish, slow burn, reader and alhaitham are in their middle twenties, reader has a pyro vision and is also a dancer and actress, reader is also the daughter of a genshin character, angst and a bit of fluff (happy ending of course but they're idiots in love).

word count — 8.1k

notes — june is back with another long fic for genshin! this one was supposed to be posted ages ago but i only had the time to do it now. i hope you guys will enjoy! reblogs and feedbacks are appreacited <3

lesser lord kusanali was a forbidden matter in your house, but you were sure she was the one who pushed you to be what you were today. 

being the daughter of the newest sage in sumeru had its perks, but you hated it. you hated the expectations everyone put on yourself, of how you should follow in your father’s footsteps and join the akademiya — everyone was sure you already had your vacancy there, with how important your father became in such a few moments after his promotion as a sage. but you never cared for scholar subjects, not in the way your two childhood friends did. 

alhaitham and kaveh had different interests, but they could enroll in the akademiya with no problem, because their line of study was actually respected by the sages and other scholars. yours, on the other hand, was looked down on and made fun of by every single one of your father’s, and him too, friends. as much as you tried not to look crestfallen when you heard them talking about the performers of the grand bazaar, alhaitham’s hand always managed to find yours when he was present in such gatherings — and you hoped that, when he wasn’t around, nobody would notice the change in your behavior. 

the arts were what called you: music, dancing, acting.

you could see yourself becoming a performer at the grand bazaar, dancing and acting for the honor of the dendro archon. the applause and excited screams of the audience were what you wanted to pursue, and not false wishes and the quietness of the akademiya. you thrived when alhaitham and kaveh, albeit forced by you, watched your makeshift plays about the archons and the dances you created in your head. you were aware they pitied you — kaveh with his dreams of being an architect and alhaitham’s love for all kinds of knowledge were much more suitable for sumeru city than your passions for the arts. 

that’s why you never expected them to support you in your decision of going against your father’s wishes to join the akademiya, and running away to the grand bazaar to join a theater troupe at the age of fifteen, inspired by a dream you had with the archon of your nation. 

it has been almost ten years, but you still remembered your father’s harsh words as if it had happened just yesterday — of how much of a disappointment you were for the family, how he would be able to explain to his peers and your future master that you decided to throw away the bright future it has been given to you, how ungrateful you were and how other people wished they were on your shoes. your mother remained quiet the whole time, but you never expected her support, too. she always agreed with everything your father used to say, almost brainwashed by the luxuries he displayed in front of her. in a way, she was, and the disappointed looks on their faces weren’t hurtful or a surprise for you. 

although, what hurt the most was alhaitham’s reaction. 

you had feelings from him ever since you knew what romantic love was, but they could never blossom into something more now, that you planned to run away from your home and probably never see your friends and family again. 

kaveh was aware of this too, being your confidant and best friend, trying to persuade you to not give up on everything — alhaitham and the akademiya, but you couldn’t pretend happiness in doing something you hated just because of feelings you didn’t even know if it was reciprocated. if alhaitham really liked you, he would respect your wishes and want your happiness before anything else.

it seemed like he didn’t, having the same reaction as your father — but his words were the ones who brought you to tears, his voice harsher and colder than you’ve ever heard growing up at his side, breaking your heart and cutting your skin like the blade he used to train. you almost gave up on your convictions and stayed in your home and went to the akademiya like your father wished, just to see him looking down at you with anything but the hatred dancing in his eyes. 

but you could not. not when lesser lord kusanali appeared to you in a dream, only to tell you to follow your dreams. you could not turn your back against your god and not do what she wished — she was the god of wisdom, and you trusted her judgment. 

and that’s why you turned your back to him, running away from your feelings for him and burying them in the deepest part of your heart. though, from time to time, you wondered what happened to him — did he and kaveh become scholars and follow their dreams just like yourself? how was the akademiya treating them? were they happy? had alhaitham found someone he loved more than his books? 

you knew such an answer would break your heart even more, but the agony of not knowing was much more worse. 

the grand bazaar welcomed you as if you were a lost daughter returning home after many years, and the zubayr theater became your new family. you were finally at the place you were destined to be, doing what you loved — captivating the audience with your movements and expression, bringing the toughest of men to his knees in broken sobs by your performances. the stage for you was like the library to the scholars of the akademiya, and you learned more and more every day you performed. 

you weren't alone there, having the company of nilou, your fellow dancer and actress who shared the same passion for the arts and love for the dendro archon, and, despite the age difference between the both of you, you two become fast friends — more than friends you came to notice one day, because the younger girl became like a little sister to you in just a few months of knowing each other. and you couldn’t be happier by following the words of lesser lord kusanali, thanking her every day for whispering her wisdom for you in your dreams. 

your days were spent rehearsing and performing, sometimes helping the merchants in the grand bazaar and planning more and more plays with your peers of the zubayr theater. it was like an act of resistance, almost, the performances you did — the people of sumeru were fond of the troupe’s plays, especially the children, and seeing the disapproval looks of the scholars were your fuel to not stop. 

it was supposed to be one of those days for you. a dance performance was scheduled in the treasures street, always buzzing with people due to its stalls and merchants, but today was different — you received the intel that a bunch of scholars would be wandering the area, probably for a case study of whatever the akademiya was planning. it was the perfect opportunity to show those arrogant scholars at least a glimpse of the wonders of the performing arts, and you couldn’t help but dress like greater lord rukkhadevata was described in the records you remembered reading as a child, just to spite the scholars even more.

probably for a case study of whatever the akademiya was planning. it was the perfect opportunity to show those arrogant scholars at least a glimpse of the wonders of the performing arts, and you couldn’t help but dress like greater lord rukkhadevata was described in the records you remembered reading as a child, just to spite the scholars even more. 

you winked at your musician, a teenage boy who held the same spite for the akademiya you did, starting your movements as soon as the sounds of the flute reached your ears. the flowing white sleeves and your long white and green skirt created a beautiful sight alongside the choreography nilou helped you to come up with, and the crowd’s cheers and boos didn’t reach your ears. whenever you were dancing, the outside world was shut down, your senses completely enveloped by the surrounding music. you moved as if you were made of water, a delicacy never seen before in the way your body spins. 

your eyes were kept close, as you didn’t wish for an unpleasant view to take your focus away. performing in the open was more difficult than in the grand bazaar — people there, at least, were also enjoyers of the arts. however, you couldn’t just ignore the call to show more people how the arts were a form of wisdom, too. 

the music ended, as well as your dance, and you bowed gracefully while opening your eyes to scan the crowd, the boos louder than anything else. but what was supposed to be a swift escape from the scholars and a few guards your vision managed to spot, was cut by a strong hold in your arm, dragging you away from your makeshift stage. too shocked to do anything else, you let yourself be pulled away from the crowd of scholars, their screams now louder that you were in the middle of them.

“take away this scum from our city, scribe!” 

your eyes, that were cast down to your feet, widened at such words. scribe was the title your father had before he became a sage, and, even though it didn’t make sense being him the one who was dragging you, your heart still raced with fear. though, when you had enough courage to look properly at your captor when you were a few meters away from the scholars, it was someone who you never thought of seeing again. 

those blue eyes, shining with the same rage it shone years ago, still haunted your dreams whenever you closed your eyes. 

“let go of me, alhaitham!” you managed to say, besides the lump in your throat. 

it was strange to see him, almost ten years after you left your house. alhaitham changed, of course — he was taller and more muscular, and his face was more sharp than it was before, now the face of an adult rather than a teenager’s one. his hair remained the same almost, only a bit shorter, but his eyes were still the ones you remembered from your childhood. you never forgot the exact shade of blue of them, of how the colors merged to create his pupils. they were mesmerizing, but it seemed that they would never look down at you with love on them once more.

“what were you thinking, y/n?” his voice was quiet but demanding, yet he didn't lose his composure, acting as if the rage in his words was nothing. “dancing in front of a crowd of people who hate the arts?” his grip on your arm tightened, and you couldn't find the same comfort you did as a teenager in his presence. 

you were angry, far angrier than you originally thought you would be if you saw him again, and sad — even though your heart still beat only for him. “i would have escaped, scribe. like i always did.” venom laced his new title, something so familiar yet foreign. it didn't suit him. he wasn't supposed to follow in your father's footsteps, as if he had replaced his own daughter with her friend. “i had a plan that was ruined by you.”

if the bitterness in your voice affected him, he didn't let it show on his face — but his grip around your arms softened, and you took that as your cue to get away from his touch. his presence alone was too intoxicating, clouding your senses and messing with your better judgment. 

little did you know, but you had the same effect on him. 

his closed fists weren't because of his rage, but from his urge to hold you between his arms once more — to feel your skin against his fingertips, to run his fingers in your hair and kiss your forehead, to hold you against his chest and tell you how many nights he was kept awake thinking about you. alhaitham was a coward and he was aware of it, knowing you were residing at the grand bazaar and not setting foot in the place, afraid of seeing you in the arms of another with no thought of yours being about him, like all of his were about you. 

“and what were you going to do? run away from all those scholars who were clearly offended by your choice of clothing?” he barked back, watching your eyes roll and your arms crossing on your chest. you were beautiful, wearing what the scholars believed were greater lord rukkhadevata's clothes back when she was alive. the color complimented your skin, and the flowing sleeves and skirts made your movements more graceful than alhaitham remembered them to be.

you scoffed. he was just like all the scholars you grew up to hate, arrogant and too confident in his abilities, and it hurt your heart to reach such a conclusion — that your first love was an akademiya scum. “i will not tell you.” you turned your back to him, starting to walk back to where you were, hoping that alhaitham would leave you alone to return home. but, the heavy sounds of his boots were your clue that he wouldn't leave you to your own company. “just let me return home.” you voice was quiet and full of hurt, small, just like alhaitham remembered it to be when your father would scold you. 

and he hated the fact that he was the one making you feel like that. 

however, he couldn't say sorry and leave you alone — he finally saw you after years of earning for such a meeting to happen and, even though he'd never admit that, he wanted to spend more time with you and know everything that happened in the years you were apart. he could always rely on the akasha to know such information, but things appearing on his mind would never have the same effect as hearing your voice. “you're defenseless. if your father knows that i didn't protect you, i'm a dead man by tomorrow morning.”

his words took you by surprise. “he made you promise this years ago. i'm sure that now he will be delighted if something happens to me.” you bit the inside of your cheeks to prevent the tears in your lashes from falling down, your head turned to the side so he couldn't see them. talking about your father was still a delicate subject for you — as much as you wanted to hate him for all the wrongs he said for you when you were fifteen, the loving and caring father that he was until that day arrived still plagued your thoughts. 

alhaitham shrugged. “i don’t care about him, i care about the promise i made, and i will not go back on my word.” you didn’t notice when you both stopped walking, but the gloved hand on your face, wiping the tears away while obligating you to look directly at his eyes, made your body be plagued by shivers and your cheeks to flush in a bright red color. 

he was the same alhaitham of your memories, wasn't he? the caring and kind, sometimes a bit too blunt, boy that you met alongside kaveh when you two were exploring the forest — his eyes were still the same, and even though they were now with different emotions than in the last time you saw them, his words still had the same painful effect they did once. did he still think that of you? that you were useless and a fool, that you had thrown away the brightest of futures to a life that wasn't worth it. your brows furrowed, and you got away from his grasp, missing the way his eyes shone with hurt at your rejection of his affection. 

but he would fight for you and he would gain your trust again, and alhaitham didn't care for the time this would take. he just wanted you back where you belonged — between his arms and in his life. 

— 

he stayed true to his word, even if you didn't know about them. all you knew was that he became a constant presence in all your performances, whenever they would be. he was the first person you saw when you opened your eyes after dancing in the honor of the dendro archon, the first person that congratulated you or the person who led you to safety when you decided to perform in front of scholars. 

it was annoying, at the beginning. alhaitham always had a critic to say, either being something about the music or the lighting — or even your partners in the performance, especially if they were men, saying that they didn't let you shine like he knew you could alone — but you knew that was his way of complimenting you. he has always been like that, too logical to know how to say a kind word instead of what you should do to make your performance better in the next time. it was almost endearing how he noticed the small details about your dance, like the way your hands moved or the sound your bracelets made when you clapped your hands. 

you both were from different worlds, but different worlds that completed each other in ways you never thought it would. the arts and the runes were almost like oil and water, but you and alhaitham made them mix it perfectly.

he also always made sure he was the one who left you at your room's door, perhaps to know that you were indeed safe, and you made the mistake of asking alhaitham if he wanted to come inside the third time he did that. 

it was already late in the night when your performance ended, that time at the the neighborhood with nilou, and you tried to argue with him that you didn't need his protection — everyone in the neighborhood knew who you are, and you knew how to fight and knew how to use your pyro vision to burn those who tried to harass you. and as much as he knew that, being the first victim of your vision, he still wanted you at his side. the question left your lips before you could think of it, the gossip that such an action would bring in the inn and in the grand bazaar long gone in your head. just like he wanted to make sure of your safety, you also wanted to make sure of his, too. 

you only had one bed, of course, you room enough only to fit one person living there. and as much as he tried to argue with you to let him sleep on the floor, you almost tied his wrists to your bed frame so he could sleep there, knowing that he wasn’t someone who slept much due to the nature of his job in the akademiya. but it seemed that your warmth was enough to make the akademiya's scribe to give up — you both fell asleep with a pillow between your bodies, but you woke up with his strong arms caging you to his chest and his face nuzzled in your neck. 

you didn’t dare to move, of course. you couldn’t know how alhaitham’s reaction to such an outcome would be, and the shallow breaths leaving his nostrils were proof enough that he was indeed awake, probably enjoying the few minutes of peace you and your house were granting him. you just nuzzled back on him, hearing him sighing and a pair of lips ghosting your cheek before his warmth left your bed. you only opened your eyes when you heard him moving around your small home. a few words were shared before he left to do his job, a small sandwich in his hands and the promise of seeing you again — though it took one week before that, in a setting that you wished was just a nightmare. 

—

zubayr theater had a performance scheduled in the grand bazaar, something that was proposed by you and nilou to bring attention to the place and help the merchants — every time a performance was announced in the city, all the eyes were directed to where it would be. children and women were always more open to the job you and your peers did, always enchanted by the dance moves and theatrics your troupe had to offer, while men and members of the akademiya always looked down with frowns whenever they attended one. you were still warming nilou to the fact that whenever the akademiya members didn’t like it, it meant you were in the right way. 

though, however, you never expected to see your father in the crowd. 

alhaitham stood proud at his side, though you could see that he was rather uncomfortable — in the short months you spent in his company again since you ran away, you learned what his lack of expression meant. it was just a mask you knew he developed in the years of studying in the akademiya, meant to deceive his peers into thinking that he was above them all, but you could see just by the way his eyes flicked to your form now and then that he wished he was anywhere but near your father. you didn’t know what prompted him to feel such discomfort, wondering if your father was now something more than just a sage in the akademiya, but you knew that you would never know.

you didn’t want to know. 

you just trying to ignore his presence in the crowd, his clothes as a sage almost in discrepancy inside the grand bazaar, focusing on the character you needed to portray — as always, the role of greater lord rukkhadevata belonged to you, while nilou was the goddess of flowers. it was a play about the birth of lesser lord kusanali, something that had always been wrapped in mystery to the common folk, and a great source for writers to romanticize and actors to give life to their plays. you were glad you were able to raise curiosity in the hearts of people about the birth of their god, though many of them were still disappointed with the new dendro archon’s lack of great doings. 

the performance ended with a round of applause by those who enjoyed it, and some looks of disapproval by those who did not. your eyes scanned the crowd until they found alhaitham’s, but the familiar soft and warm gaze he gave you whenever you ended a play wasn’t there — instead, you were met with cold and calculating eyes, and you didn’t know if he was behaving like that because of your father’s presence or if he finally was persuaded into seeing that you both were from different worlds and how bad it was. 

you tried not to be disappointed, nor make the pain in your heart be known by your colleagues, brushing nilou’s worried words with anxiousness — you gave a quick explanation about your father being in the crowd, and she seemed to buy it being the reason for the sadness in your eyes. 

after speaking with a few of your admirers, you excused yourself, feigning a bit of tiredness due to the preparations for the performance, smiling at the sight of the merchant’s tents filled with people — they weren’t many, but it was more than you were used to seeing every day. it was such small actions that made everything worthy of it, from running away from the safety of your family and the future your father chose for you to joining a theater troupe and changing your life in a way you only used to dream about, because you were sure you would never be able to help people if you were in the akademiya. 

you sighed, hearing rushed voices near your home. you didn’t want to spy on them, but as you recognized the voices to belong to your father and alhaitham, your curiosity took the best of you, hiding between a tree and some brushes. 

“i hope you are pleased with my job, grand sage.” 

that piqued your interest, hearing alhaitham calling your father by such a title, though your heart fell to your stomach. as much as you wanted to stay there and listen, something inside you told you to just run away and be ignorant — after all, ignorance was a blessing — because if you stayed, you would be heartbroken. 

the voice inside you proved to be right, alongside your father’s words.

“i am, indeed, pleased with your job, scribe alhaitham.” azar’s voice was just exactly how you remember it to be when you were growing up, authoritative and unkind. “it is good to get data about those performancers.” they weren’t so close but not too far, and you feared that if you did any abrupt movement your hiding spot would be found — but your fists clenched anyway, anger boiling in your blood by hearing such words. “especially my daughter. i do not want her to disturb any of the students with her foolish ideals. now, because of your help, we can stop her whenever she tries anything.” 

you tried not to let the tears that were pooling in your eyes to fall and give them the joy of making you cry after such knowledge, but the sadness inside you was stronger than any other resolution you had. alhaitham was just using you? all the time you two spent together, laughing and rebuilding your friendship, all the soft glances during late nights when he had accompanied you home, and hands brushing your cheek whenever he put a strand behind your ear while whispering goodnight — everything was just a lie for him? just a way for him to gather information about you and your peers to put on that damned akasha, for azar and the other sages to use against you and the other artists? 

and you had fallen for it like a puppy. 

you thought your childhood crush was something reciprocated, you really did, opening yourself to him like you did to no other man in your life. 

“i just did it to protect you.” 

his voice took you from your thoughts, your fists still clenched and your nails now draining blood from your palms. how could he? how could he lie so bluntly to you, feigning concern about you? “don’t try to excuse yourself, scribe.” you turned around to meet his eyes, finding them not like you thought they would be — emotionless and even with a bit of mockery shining on them, but they were hurt. 

because alhaitham never saw you looking so hurt and angry, not at himself. 

“i do not want to see you ever again.” 

you left him in the middle of the street with those words, his eyes following your shaking form until you were inside the safety of your house. alhaitham knew that you wouldn’t take his actions well, but he hoped you would never find out what he was doing — because he was, indeed, protecting you. if you did another performance near the akademiya, or near students that would report back to the sages, you would be exiled to the desert just like an insane scholar, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything to save you from such a horrible fate. 

he sighed, starting to walk back in the familiar way to the akademiya, his heart the heaviest since you left him when you were teenagers. 

maybe he just needed to give you some time for yourself, while he pondered what he could do to make you forgive him. 

—

one month. 

one month since you last saw alhaitham, and you wished you could say that his actions made you hate him — but it didn’t. 

it took you a few days to be able to dance and act again, though your eyes always scanned the crowd in search of him. he was never there, and as much as you were the one who said you didn’t want to see him again, you were disappointed. if he did have feelings for you, would he really give up on you like that? it was beyond frustrating what you were feeling, because you couldn’t understand him or his actions — he really thought you would be fine with him using you to gather information for the akademiya, even if it was to protect yourself from the archons’ know what? 

and now he just gave up. why wasn't he fighting for you? 

or maybe you were wrong, again. maybe he didn’t have feelings for you like you thought he did, and he was really just using you and all the little signals were just a play. if that was the truth, he was a better actor than most people you knew — better than yourself. you would never be able to pretend to have feelings for someone if it wasn’t in a play and you weren’t a character. 

as much as you tried to not let your feelings interfere with your everyday life, almost everyone in the grand bazaar noticed that something was wrong. nilou was the first one, the first to notice how puffy and red your eyes were from crying the whole night after the incident with your father and him. though you didn't have the courage to tell her what happened — after all, the dreamy eyes she had whenever you and alhaitham were around, perhaps imagining having a lover like him, didn't pass unnoticed by you — she still knew something happened between the two of you, always offering her support when you needed it. the others were mostly like her, though not as close to you to express their worry verbally. 

you lived your life the same it was before you met alhaitham after all those years, though it was harder now. before, his rejection to your young love was just a ghost, something that you would never know — now, however, it was a tangible thing, a bitter taste in your mouth whenever you still searched for his presence in your crowds. 

you would never learn that oil and water would never mix perfectly, just like you would never learn you and alhaitham would never have meant to be. 

that was what kept your shattered heart together, the glue holding all the pieces as thin as the air, and such a fact you came to know when kaveh visited you on a rainy day. you weren't expecting his visit, of course, the day uneventful due to the weather. you were teaching a bunch of little girls some of your favorite dance moves after they came to you when you spotted a tuft of blonde hair adorned with a blue feather and a pair of red eyes that you would always remember as warm. 

though kaveh's reappearance didn't shake you up like alhaitham's, his words were far more worrisome.

after a long awaited shared hug between two old friends and some pleasantries coming from both of your mouths, kaveh broke the news, his red eyes shining with a worry you never saw before in them — in fact, you did, on the day you ran away from your father. “i know something happened between you and alhaitham.” he started, his hands on your shoulders holding you at your place.

“kaveh…” you tried, not wanting to hear anything about him. what was kaveh going to say to you? that he was miserable and not himself, because of something he did? it wasn’t fair to you. 

he sighed, already in tune with your mannerisms again — you always said you two were platonic soulmates, knowing everything about each other from the top to bottom, being able to communicate with just your eyes. “i’m not here to play his advocate, far from it. i do not know what happened, as he did not tell me, but,” his grip on your shoulders tightened a bit, as if he was trying to prepare you for what was coming. “he was assigned a mission by the sages almost a month ago. a very dangerous one that i was against him going, you see, but the whole situation with you probably made him more prone to accept it. and…” 

“...and?” you heart was beating fast inside your rib cage, faster than you ever remembered it beating. a lot of scenarios were playing in your head, and all of them were worse than the other. 

“and he was severely injured.” the world around you was spinning, as if the air wasn’t enough to make the blood go to your lungs, making everything dizzy — but you could see the worry on his face. as much as kaveh pretended to hate alhaitham, you knew that deep down he cared about him, and vice-versa. “he is alright now, y/n, he’s being treated in the akademiya’s infirmary now.” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, tears now glossing kaveh’s handsome features. 

“why are you telling me this?” such a question was eating you alive. you knew kaveh’s nature wasn’t a cruel one, but what he wanted to achieve with giving you this acknowledgement? 

“you’re still so impatient.” he chuckled, though it wasn’t filled with mirth like you remembered it to be. “alhaitham was probably going through some fever illusions and he… he kept calling in your name. in a pained way, saying that he couldn’t die before seeing you again.” you heart skipped a beat at your friend’s confession, even more tears glossing your vision now. alhaitham didn’t have this right, the right to break your heart and transform into dust and then made it whole again. 

you felt kaveh’s soft fingers caressing your cheeks, wiping the tears away, the beating of your heart more erratic than ever. “can i see him?” the question left your lips before you could think twice, the idea of him dying hurting more than your broken heart. 

kaveh laughed. “i was going to ask you that.” 

—

in the way to the akademiya, kaveh told you what happened. 

he narrated how he noticed something was off with alhaitham a day when he came back unexpectedly earlier to their house. he was used to finding his roommate with a permanent scowl on his face, but he seemed defeated — his scowl wasn’t the arrogant one that alhaitham always displayed on his face, but something akin to sadness and frustration. kaveh didn’t dare to ask what happened, already knowing what his friend was going to say, so he left the matter behind, deeming it to be problems in his job. during the week, alhaitham closed himself off in the house of daena, as if the books could cure whatever was making him so strange, until he came back home one day, gathering his essential things in a small bag and leaving for a confidential mission for the grand sage. 

kaveh only heard about alhaitham again two days ago, when he returned to their home bloodied and weak, and he took him to the infirmary — his wounds were more severely than kaveh thought they were, and while he was in the room to watch the amurta students taking care of him, he heard him muttering your name. 

“y/n… i can’t die… her… love… sorry… y/n…” those were the words kaveh told you alhaitham had whispered while he was in agony, probably delirious from either pain or fever. your heart broke even more knowing about this, your feet almost running straight to the infirmary, even though you didn’t know the way there — it wasn’t easy to sneak you in the akademiya, but the raining day meant that a lot of scholars weren’t lurking around, ready to see one of them with a performer from the grand bazaar, and you managed to infiltrate the place where all wisdom was created. 

kaveh led you to alhaitham’s room, in a wing full of patients who were labeled as having delicate cases, and you wondered what was the mission alhaitham agreed to go. did he went on it because he wanted, or because he was pressured to go? or he used this opportunity to forget about you, risking his life in the process? you couldn’t bear the idea of being the reason why he accepted such a dangerous mission and risked his life for nothing. 

but alhaitham was stubborn, and even if you asked, he would never tell you. 

parting ways with kaveh with a hug, you slowly entered the room your childhood friend was being treated in, careful to not make so much noise and awake him — kaveh told you he had been unconscious since he arrived, but you didn’t want to disturb him. what if he hated you now? what if he saw you as the culprit of the state he was in, and now was the one who didn’t want to see you? though his feverish words said otherwise, you were still nervous, like you felt whenever you were about to start a performance. 

the room was beautiful, just like everything in the akademiya, with a big window that you thought was supposed to make sunlight fill the room, and some medical instruments around it. but it was plain too, with white and green walls and a bed and some nightstand and a loveseat near the bed, probably for a companion. 

you made your way to the bed, your steps as light as a feather falling in the ground, afraid that you could awaken him and disturb his recovery. you just wanted to see him, see if he was well, and then leave — you didn’t know how your reaction would be if you saw him with open eyes, probably too overwhelming to see who just got away from lady death’s grasp.

alhiatham looked peaceful, you noticed as soon as you sat on the bed. 

he had no frown adorning his features, and he looked much more healthy than you thought he would — he wasn’t pale and his skin was glowing, even if his face had some small bruises which were decorating his handsome face with a tint of purple. he looked so young, just like the boy you had fallen in love while growing up, and it hurt. it hurt to see him like this and to think what your relationship became just because of the prejudice of your father and the scholars. 

you wanted nothing more than to caress his face and kiss his pain away and, before you could think straight, your fingers were already ghosting his cheekbones, going down to his lips and his bruises, feeling his warm skin underneath your fingertips and sighing contently feeling his breath tickling your skin. it was good to know that he was alive and well, and after making sure of that, you retracted your hand back to rest in your lap and knew you were ready to go back to the grand bazaar — would he come after you after his recovery? would he tell you what he was whispering in his agony? 

though, before you could leave his bed and the room, alhaitham’s hand grabbed yours, making a surprised gasp to leave your lips. 

“don’t go…” his voice was rough and raw, strange on his body after two days of not using it. “i do not know if this is a fever dream or not,” he opened his eyes, blinking it to make sure you weren’t a hallucination. “but don’t leave me again, y/n.” 

you smiled, a few tears going down on your cheeks. “i promise, alhaitham.” the hand that wasn’t intertwined with his cupped his cheek, and you leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his forehead. “go back to sleep, alright? i will be here when you wake up again.” 

he nodded, like a small child, closing his eyes again. 

—

alhaitham knew people from sumeru couldn’t dream, but why did your lips on his forehead felt so real? 

he groaned, the pain on his chest more than just a physical pain. it hurt to know that his brain and heart craved your presence so much that he dreamed about you — was the dendro archon giving him a bit of solace before he came to face the consequences of his actions? he knew he wasn’t supposed to fight a machine monster all by himself, even though he was strong enough to do so, but such a mechanical being wasn’t like the ones he faced before, and he needed to get that capsule of divine knowledge back. 

alhaitham thought that perhaps he could redeem himself in your eyes, if he managed to help sumeru and its people somehow.

he got the capsule back, but almost lost himself to it. he didn’t understand how he managed to arrive at his house before collapsing in pain and loss of blood, the journey home being filled with fever dreams of you and what could’ve happened between you both if he was more open about his feelings, if he wasn’t a coward and had fought for you. 

but now the past was in the past, and alhaitham couldn’t do anything to change. he could only bask in what his imagination could give him — the softness of your fingers on his face, the sweetest kiss of your lips and its warmth on his skin, the honey laced promise you made him. it would hurt more than any of his bruises the fact that he would wake up alone in such a cold room, with you being so far away from him. 

though the sound of footsteps gave him the idea he wasn’t alone. “close the curtains, kaveh, for the archon’s sake.” he muttered, turning around to not be graced with the sun rays on his face. 

the sound of a feminine giggle made him furrow his eyebrows, a sound so sweet that he was sure he was still in a fever dream — the last time he heard your giggles was a day before you discovered what he was doing, laughing at his complaints about kaveh. your smile and your laugh were his fuel to keep fighting that mechanical being, the idea of seeing you happy again enough for him to keep going. 

“if you want me to call kaveh, just say it.” you voice was laced with mirth, and a bit of concern, totally different from the cold and filled with rage tone you used the last time alhaitham saw you. it was almost comforting the way you seemed more at ease at his presence, though he knew he owed you an apology. 

he scoffed. “never.” he turned around once again, opening his eyes to find you sitting on the love seat near his bed. “hi.” he whispered while he watched you walking towards him, all the words dying on his throat at the sight of you. 

it was funny how he always had a witty remark to anything said to him, but never to you. your presence made his brain foggy and disoriented, all his thoughts revolving around you. he was just a useless star that couldn’t help but be attracted and circle around you, the sun, that gave warmth to everyone else. 

“hi.” you whispered back, your hands fumbling in your lap, as if you didn’t know what to do with them. “how are you feeling?” your voice had a tenderness that alhaitham knew he didn’t deserve coming from you. he’d never deserve your love or your kindness, something so pure and beautiful, even though you might think otherwise. 

he tried to chuckle, trying to ease the worry in your brow. “i’ve seen better days.” as much as he wanted to ask why and how you were there, alhaitham wasn’t brave enough to break the blissful bubble you both were in. he was afraid that his words would turn a switch inside you, that you would graze your eyes upon him with the same rage it was filled in the last time he saw you, that your fists would shake and your lip tremble with unshed tears — the love struck and kind look your eyes had was so much better than the fresh of you in his mind.

“i can imagine.” tentatively, you cupped his bruised cheek, fingers gently caressing his skin. he leaned into your touch, a relieved sigh leaving his lips at your display of affection — he was undeserving yes, but alhaitham was selfish and arrogant, and he would never back away from it. yet, the shadow of what happened and the questions from both of your hearts hovered above your forms. “i…” you seemed braver than him, trying to get the acknowledged that would soothe or break your heart even more, but alhaitham couldn’t let you be the one to start — he cut you by trying to get up, indulging your smaller hand on his, the bandages preventing your skin to touch, much to his chagrin. 

“let me speak first, y/n. i was the one at fault in the first place.” he watched as you nodded, body coming closer to him, your smell clouding his senses and the only thought in his head was kissing your lips until they were red and raw, seeing you beneath him with red cheeks and disheveled hair. “i know you do not believe me, but i was protecting you when giving information about your troupe to your father.” at the mention of the grand sage, your face became sour — though now more hurt than angered, and alhaitham knew such a change of feeling was good. “you were going to be exiled to the desert, my love.” the term of endearment didn’t go unnoticed by you, your cheeks becoming hot at the possessive form before it. 

you were his. 

“i was desperate. i had only found you after being an incognito in my life for almost ten years.” his grip on your hand tightened, and alhaitham sighed. “i’m not asking you to forgive me so easily, but do not look at me with that rage again.” he pleaded, bringing your hand to his mouth and kissing your knuckles, his warm lips caressing your skin as if he was worshiping a goddess. “my heart is yours to do whatever you want, and i will endure it, but don’t deny me seeing the love in your eyes be corrupted by such a horrible feeling.” 

alhaitham closed his eyes, taking your hand to rest over his chest, ready for your rejection. 

“why did you accept this mission?” your voice was quiet, and your words totally different from what his mind told him what they were going to be. “i thought… i thought you had only used me, alhaitham.” your reveal wasn’t a total surprise for him, because he knew his actions were misleading. 

“i guess i just wanted to forget what i made you feel.” he admitted, arms coming to wrap around you and bring your body to rest on his chest. it hurt, because his wounds were still fresh, but that was where you belonged. you fitted perfectly between his arms, your face hid in the warmth of his neck and his head resting above yours, your bodies almost melting into each other and becoming one. 

his arms tightened around your form when he felt your body shake and his neck wet by your tears. he didn’t try to pry, though his heart ached with your quiet sobs, but he knew you would talk when you were ready — the only thing he could offer now was physical comfort, and even though alhaitham thought he was the worst person to give any kind of comfort, but it was you. you always made his best traits to shine, and the worst ones to become less bad.

after some time, your sobs quieted down and your body stopped to shake, and your voice filled his ears. “you really hurt me, alhaitham.” you were using a scolding tone, as if he had done something bad but something redeemable. “i’ve been in love with you since we were children, and you doing that…” 

“you were in love with me since we were children?” his shocked voice made you giggle, your body adjusting so you were straddling him, hands cupping his cheeks and noses touching. alhaitham’s cheek were tinted with red, a sight that you never saw before but something so mesmerizing that you wanted it belonged to eternity — his eyes were lidded, pupils wide with a mix of love and lust, his hand gripping your hips to bring you even closer to you. 

another giggle left your lips when he kissed a spot near your lips. “for being the akademiya’s scribe, you’re a bit stupid, my beloved.” you managed to say before his lips were attacking yours, in a kiss that — even though it was delayed for ten years — was the testimony of his endless love for you. 

WHY NOT OKAY

gratitude

pairings (separately!) - diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, albedo childe/tartaglia, zhongli, xiao, kaedehara kazuha, scaramouche, dainsleif x gender neutral reader

word count - 3113

genre - fluff, comfort

format - drabbles

warnings - skinship

summary - he's looking at you like no one ever has, and you can't help but thank him

a/n - i've always wanted to write something like this :D many people have waited so long to find their partners and it's really a euphoric feeling when you do :) also yes i did write a frickin haiku just for kazuha's HAHA

all around you is perfectly still.

nothing moves, time is frozen save for the steady thump of his heart against your ear and the slight, gentle scratch of his nails on your scalp.

he exudes nothing but warmth and compassion. his firm arms cradle you tight against his body as if you were crafted of the finest china or the silkiest glass. he situated you on his lap like a plush pillow and pressed his heart against yours to beat in sync.

your senses are filled with him: the touch of his finger pads on your back, his alluring scent, that beautiful voice that riles up the butterflies deep within your stomach, the stunning image of his radiant visage and rose colored irises, the taste of his words on your palette and the brush of his lips against yours.

overwhelmed might be a way to describe it, but in the moment where he looks you straight in the eye with nothing but love and adoration swirling in those misty pools of his, you can't help but feel like putty in his arms.

"thank you," your searing hot hands come up to hold his slacked face, just above a whisper, you hardly recognize your voice that dripped with affection and filled itself with love lined with gold, "thank you for loving me."

diluc.

diluc and the idea of "romantic love" have never gone well together in his mind. many times had he found someone in his youth who fancied him and many times has he blown them off as gentlemanly in nature as he could. though, he could never deny his curiosity for such affections. with a windwheel aster in one hand, he plucked until it was down to the last petal where the words "they love me" rested on his lips in a whisper instead of "they love me not", though he did not know who he wanted to love him.

but here you sat on his lap, holding his face as if you held the world in your hands and thanked him for loving you. it almost baffled him, just how lucky he was. it was as if he'd been searching in a field of three leafed clovers and finally found a stem with four protruding leaves. but instead of plucking it, he gently nursed the tiny plant and came back to it each day with something new. you were his luck, his most beloved person, someone for which he would bring down heaven and walk into hell barefeet.

no longer did he lay awake at night, holding his pillow close to him and wondering what it would be like to be able to hold someone within his arms. nor did he purchase lovely roses for no one in particular, and place them on his desk as if awaiting to one day give them to someone.

no, you were here in his arms, thanking him for loving you unconditionally. but in reality it was him who knew you held his heart in your hands and gently cradled it within your love.

"the pleasure of loving you belongs entirely to me, my love." he whispered into the palm of your hand and finalized his words with an inward kiss.

kaeya.

love was a preposterous idea for someone like kaeya. he knew this and he knew it well, better than anyone else. love was fickle, unsteady, and uncertain. if one truly peered beneath his arctic waves and caught sight of the monstrous iceberg that lay underneath, would they truly stay? his resolution was firm: he would never fall in love. and yet, much like his brother, his curiosity would often get the better of him when in the privacy of either the winds of barbatos or the brick-walled confines of his office.

he'd place his palm on the skin of his chest and feel for his heartbeat, and wonder one day if his heart would belong to someone—someone who would see all of him and keep their feet planted firmly by his side. kaeya thought himself stupid, that he asked too much. someone like him deserved to be all by his lonesome so when the storms finally ravaged his world, there wouldn't be any collateral damage.

and yet here you were, hand on his chest feeling the heart that belonged to you thump ferociously underneath the thin skin of his chest. you were thanking him. the idea almost made him laugh, for how could someone as radiant as you be thanking him for his love. you'd managed to wriggle your way into his life and cause a mess of his resolution until he gave into his desires and made you his.

he still placed his hand on his chest from time to time, to remind himself of his humanity, and to be reminded that this heart that beat so tenderly not only beats for him but thunders onwards for you.

"i should be the one thanking you, but i have a feeling we'd be here all day if i started that war." he mused against your lips with a smile and locked you in once more for another intoxicating kiss.

he was willing to set aside his convictions, just this once.

albedo.

baffled is what he is. albedo is a man of logic and of precision and love is neither of those things. logic can't explain the desire to see you in the wee hours of the night when he plagued himself with nightmarish visions intertwined with formulas with letters he couldn't make sense of. love confuses him, but he finds himself rather intrigued. he's first introduced to the concept through a novel—impulsive procurement. he often never realized it much once he finished the novel, but his slender fingers would come up to his scalp and gently rake through his soft, tender locks as if his hand didn't belong to him—as if his hand had turned into his lover's that didn't exist.

shame overwhelmed him for such actions, but the feeling often crept up on him while his mind lay idle, awake at night wondering what chemicals are released when one kisses someone they love dearly. sketching would take his mind off of the desire, but alas, he found himself sketching two silhouettes on the backdrop of beaches and forests lined with gold and silver, their hands always intertwined.

now, his sketchbook was filled with sketches of you. pencil lines marks the edges, grooves, curves, and dips of your face and body. each line had been carefully drawn with love and precision. it was no longer his hand that raked through his locks, pretending to be his lover's hand, but instead your own hand lovingly tended to the tensed strands of ashen blonde hair on his scalp and pressed kiss after kiss to the skin where just below the bone lay a magnificent mind.

"thanking me is a fruitless action," he gently grasped your palm and pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist, "for i'm still learning from you each and every day, what it truly means to love. for that, i am eternally grateful to you."

childe.

love is gentle, tender, and patient, nothing like childe. he lusts for chaos and craves disorder. love—romantic love—was the furthest thing from his mind whenever he drew his weapons and charged forth with a charming grin and a palpitating heart. although, there were times when he'd come across fields of brilliant flowers stilling in the wind, stretching for miles in hues of all kinds and he'd find himself at a loss for who he could show such a magnificent sight to. he'd brush his fingers against the skin of his calloused and scarred palm and wonder what the feel of another hand in his would be like. would it be akin to the handle of his blade? or that of a delicate flower stem?

what a true predicament he's found himself in, yearning for the soft touch of one filled with the blessing of eros yet finding himself engrossed in giving into the urges brought forth by ares himself. conflict waged wars in his mind but they always came to a halt when he felt the soft skin of your hands anywhere on his body.

you held the power to subdue his primal urges and smooth over the rough bumps and edges that carved themselves into his skin. even now as he cradled you in his arms, it felt unreal to believe that you were thanking him for loving you. his hand felt barren of warmth no longer, instead an irreplaceable tug filled the void and tugged at his heart.

"i will always love you, so there's no need to thank me, sunshine." he took your hand and intertwined it with his, letting you bump your unsullied fingers against the deep ridges and scars that lined his hands.

zhongli.

to love is one of the most blessed acts in zhongli's mind. there was once a time where he believed love was weak, to love was to be mortal, such acts are beneath an archon who must fight to the death for sustainability. yet there was a tender part of his buried beneath the bedrock of his heart that pulsed and beamed with every moment he breathed. he often wondered if he was truly capable of love, or of loving someone in their entirety.

discipline was written on the back of his hands and imprinted down the line of his spine, but he truly was fascinated with mortals. not only mortals as a whole, but their capacity to feel the thing they called love. he'd lay awake at night and wonder if he too could love, while clutching his throbbing heart that ached for something he couldn't define.

you seemed to define it all: what love was to him. love was tender in the way you longingly looked at him with those doe eyes of yours. love was confusing in the way you'd beckon for his presence late at night to hold you close while you drifted out of consciousness. love meant many things to him because of the way you fiddled with the broach on his tie or the subtle tuck of his hair behind his ear courtesy of your smooth fingers.

with nothing but adoration in your eyes, you stared up at him and he felt the rush of gold flow through his veins. a god possesses many things but love is never usually one of them. zhongli, however, can say different.

"my lily, you need not thank me for loving you," his hands overlapped yours that held his face while his nose gently bumped against yours, "know that i am truly the thankful one for having you to stand by my side until my memories are nothing but dust."

xiao.

love isn't in his vocabulary nor is it an emotion that comes naturally to xiao. he considers himself a weapon, a tool, and inanimate objects are not capable of love. he is a man of discipline, nothing shall ever tempt him from his true duties. yet the very human part of him cannot help but entertain ludicrous ideas. like the feel of a warm body pressed tight against his, or the sensual touch of nails gently trailing down his tattooed arms. his mind wanders when all is quiet and the lands are peaceful, but that was all it ever was: a dream, a pastime for until when he'd need to sacrifice himself and become a weapon yet again.

but his mortal indulgences were all he had to feel as though he weren't suffocating beneath a thick, black, wave of fog and hazing dust. his palms were cold but he imagined they held nothing but warmth when he placed his palms onto the line of his jaw and pretended that someone held him not like a tool or a weapon, but as a regular man who was allowed to be human.

the feel of your hands on his face never felt real, despite his pinches and slaps to his face to see if it was all a dream. your hands were so very warm, warmer than his could ever be and they ignited a fire within his chest whenever they found solace holding his face. your nails traced the shapes of the tattoos on his biceps and your kisses made a home for themselves nestled in his soft locks. to say he was out of his element would be an understatement, you brought him light amidst a slew of black holes and carried warmth where frigid ice reigned supreme.

he needed to say nothing, if he tried he wasn't sure he could form the right words at all. your kisses took the breath away from him and he'd be happy to give you all that he was, and you felt it in the way his grip on you tightened and the press of his forehead against yours in a silent promise to forever protect you with his life.

kaedehara kazuha.

like swirling red leaves

that fall swiftly to the ground

my heart stills once more

love is poetry and as free as kazuha himself. there are many ways in which the winds can blow for him, and yet he finds solace in treading along the most gentle of breezes. love is whatever comes along his way, and his patience knows no bounds. but there are nights where he sits atop a perch of the alcor and traces patterns of stars with his eyes. words of a poem begin to slip from his lips and yet there are no ears to listen. his private indulgence of whispering poems of love for no one in particular are what manages to keep him sane, but he knows that such a blessing can only come with time. so he waits.

his notebooks are lined with words which he one days yearns to speak, and yet time has deemed that he is not ready yet. the words he'd created felt like sugar on his tongue, sweet and burning hot to the touch yet he'd still swallow as if it were nothing but water.

practiced to perfection was his soothing voice against the shell of your ear, whispering line after line of all the words that lived within his mind. your beauty makes the stars pale in comparison, to hold you was almost akin to holding the last bit of a comet, the tail that shone the most voluminously. his patience had rewarded him with you, all the time he spent alone writing away at what he wished to say now found a new home etched into the grooves of your brain, written in thick ink in the most beautiful of cursive.

you had given him the world, and still thanked him with that lovely voice of yours.

"i am thankful for you as well, my beloved. you bring heaven down to earth for me." he whispered against your temple and cradled you like you'd slip away from his grasp if he let go too soon.

scaramouche.

love was dumb, simply put. whatever scaramouche could not comprehend became immediately dubbed as "dumb", and love was the number one item on this list. such ludicrous feelings were far below the stature of the sixth harbinger, nor did he have the time or patience for love. he spoke these words loud and clear for all to hear, but the silent ache of his heart spoke unsaid words that clung to him and made a mess of his life.

he denied himself curiosity, or to look past the whirling storms that encircled his heart. but every so often when the moon sat high in the sky and he'd stripped himself of his title, scaramouche would faintly trace the sides of his torso and imagine the tender hold of another on his waist. his pillow was too hard to imagine as a human body, and such a silly thought had him fuming the next morning.

love was dumb and yet here you were in his arms, hands around his torso just like he'd imagined and your lips hovering over his own, thanking him for loving you. to deserve someone like you, someone who looked past his stormy exterior and found a gentle core pulsing with violet fervor. where he grew horns and bared his fangs, you showed your wings and smoothed down the frazzled ends of his locks. gentleness was not a word in his book and yet you took a pen and rewrote all of his pages.

"you're a dumbass, y'know that?" scaramouche grinned wickedly as the soft give of your cheek pulled in his forefinger and thumb despite your whining protests.

"but you're my dumbass, you don't need to thank me for loving you. if anything it should be the other way around." he suddenly pushed your face into the crook of his neck and ensnared your body within his arms, letting his words be absorbed by your burning skin.

dainsleif.

a sole wanderer, destined to pursue a fruitless goal amidst loneliness and destitute caverns of fragility. there was no time for love, no time to think about it or indulge in it. but dainsleif has always defied the odds, and even then as he lay by his lonesome beside another quiet fire, he thought of love. the feel of a hand raking through his soft, feathery locks, the gentle press of a kiss on his forehead, the innocent intertwining of pinkies or hands. he thought himself a fool, waking up with flushed cheeks and a mind full of temptation.

but such feelings no longer lived alone in his mind. the feel of your hands combing through his locks were real, as was the persistent kisses to his flushing face and the innocent intertwining of your pinky against his. he would forever be at your mercy and yet it was you who thanked him for the love in your eyes.

baffled and bewildered, he doesn't quite understand why you thank him when it was you who allowed him to shed himself of his duties and become simple dainsleif, who loved you and would give his life for you.

you were real, in his arms and thanking him for his love. you were real and you weren't going anywhere. as tenderly as you held his face, his palms came up and cupped your jaw as if it would break under his touch.

"gratitude is not what i seek, but you hold my heart within your hands and that is more than enough for me." dainsleif sealed his words with a gentle kiss on your forehead doused with adoration and crafted of love.

date published: july 29th, 2021

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SIMPLE COMPLICATION, MISCOMMUNICATION

cw: arguments aren’t fun :( suna is bad at communicating :( reader is frustrated and a tad insecure :( angst to fluff tho i swear, i was mad so i took it out on paper (and on rintaro)

The small crack of light creeping through your curtain feels equivalent to the burn of a hangover. 

The clock reads a reasonable almost ten in the morning, but your body dismisses the concept of time and aches for twelve more hours of sleep. You barely slept last night, tossing and turning for hours on end, all because of your stupid boyfriend. 

Suna’s terrible at communicating, no matter how many times you tell him. He’s human, prone to making mistakes and having his fair share of wheels that need greasing, but his avoidant communication skills are often the core of a handful of your arguments.

This time around, he’s been away for the week traveling with EJP—and while the travel is nothing new, you’ve only received a single phone call and four texts within the past week. 

Waking up with a pounding headache, you instantly groan at the thought of pulling yourself out of bed. Rintaro won’t be home for another day, which means another night of no sleep and spiraling worry. 

At this point, coffee may be your only saving grace.

Trudging into your kitchen with knotted hair and morning breath, you barely even open your eyes as you mindlessly navigate your way to the savior that is your coffee machine. 

However, your apartment isn’t as empty as you left it last night. 

“Yikes,” an unsuspecting yet familiar voice practically wheezes at your appearance. “You look like you slept well,” the voice oozes of nothing but sarcasm and instigation. 

Keep reading

hq: best friends to lovers

with: bokuto x you, sakusa x you 

genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort 

notes: nothing

masterlist

— bokuto kotaro.

the thought was suffocating when you realized your feelings for bokuto. you had been best friends since high school, and even though you were not as energetic as he was, your relationship flowed very naturally. you were afraid to ruin this, so in the first moment you kept your feelings to yourself and pretended it didn’t hurt when he told you about his feelings for a certain person. it was weeks of crying in the shelter of your room, imagining scenarios where you could be genuinely happy and not in love with your best friend. one night, when you figured it would be just another moment feeling miserable and lonely, someone knocked on your front door and your heart froze when you found bokuto standing there, looking as tense as you had ever seen him, wearing his best clothes and holding what looked like a box of chocolate, your favorite. “i know it’s kind of late, but, would you like to go on a date with me?”

Keep reading

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Reblog this to prove your blog was made before the February 2022 tumblr resurgence

random cute things they do.

˖⁺ ✧ genre : sfw, fluff (?) ˖⁺ ✧ warning/s : none ˖⁺ ✧ ft : misc ˖⁺ ✧ a/n : someone save me from this insane woman

ʚ bokuto stops by the local playground on his daily morning jog. he likes to spend time with the children there - giving them a push on the swing, helping them down the pole, and catching them on the slide.

ʚ konoha steps on leaves, waiting for that one, loud crunch. although he has bumped his head one too many times, from being too focused on the ground and not looking where he’s going.

ʚ tsukishima always buys 2 pieces of bread when he goes to the store. the small bun is for him to snack on, and the baguette is for the ducks in the pond that he passes by on his way home.

ʚ atsumu and osamu have one thing in common; they like johnsons’ baby shampoo. the blonde twin says that it’s only because it makes his hair soft. the other admits that he likes how it smells.

ʚ ushijima types with his index finger. he holds his phone with the whole palm of his right hand, and slowly types away. tendou has tried to teach him how to type faster, but he only thanks him and says that it is “unnecessary information”.

ʚ iwaizumi is never late to watching any movie that involves Godzilla or King Kong. he grew up loving the former, only to become invested in the latter as well.

ʚ oikawa is terrified of alien abduction. the interest started off with the possibility of the existence of aliens, but now, it’s turned to a fear of being abducted in the middle of the night. iwaizumi ‘reassures’ him that “no creature, human or not, would want him.”

ʚ akaashi sometimes forgets to wear his glasses, and instead squints. it could’ve been beside him, or on his head - but nonetheless, he’s still forget.

ʚ tendou never turns off his notifications, even while sleeping. he doesn’t want to be late to the news if ever a friend needed him.

© solaxena : all rights reserved. do not edit, modify, repost, or claim my works as your own.

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back from the dead!

note from kin: the gif for this one’s probably my favourite one so far, but i just know that the quality is going to get nerfed because everyone’s so small

also, just in case it wasn’t obvious, the prompt here is that that you ‘died’ one way or another but then you come back because (plot twist) you didn’t actually die - though it’s a bit different in albedo’s case

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn! reader, diluc, kaeya, childe, zhongli, xiao, venti, albedo, a couple of other mentioned characters

pairing(s): diluc/reader, kaeya/reader, childe/reader, zhongli/reader, xiao/reader, venti/reader, albedo/reader

warning(s): death (obviously), blood/injury, implied suicidal thoughts

genre: angst

diluc:

diluc has many feelings about this situation, the main one being: why

why would you do this to him? do you enjoy torturing him? is that it?

no, that’s not fair... he knows you didn’t mean to make everyone think you’d up and died on them

but still. two weeks. two ENTIRE weeks he’d thought you were gone

it had been a simple trek to dragonspine, and you’d reassured him that you’d be fine without him, so he’d stayed behind to deal with business, while you put up a request for some volunteers from the adventurer’s guild to come with you

in the end, a team of five left mondstadt city. only four came back.

three days after you left, diluc opened the door of dawn winery to see those four ghostly, stricken faces staring back at him. not a word was said for a good minute, but in that moment, he already knew what news they were about to deliver

he stopped them before they could recount the details of your inability to outrun the avalanche and subsequent fall. his mind had already laid out every agonising moment for him, from your last thoughts to your last breath - did you think of him? did you call for him, hoping against all hope that he would save you? did you die waiting for a hero that never came?

the next day, he joined the volunteers who set out to recover your body. if any of them noticed the lonely figure trailing behind them, head lowered and dragging his feet as if the weight of the world had fallen on his shoulder, they didn’t say a word

he dug first with his weapon, igniting the metal with his pyro vision so that it cut through the snow easily, and when that became too heavy for his grief-exhausted arms to bear, he dropped it and dug with his hands instead, refusing to give up, even when the cold seeped through his gloves and bit into his hands until the skin began to crack and bleed

but, in the end, they could only bury an empty casket. despite all of his efforts, they couldn’t find your body.

he chooses a quiet place by the vineyards of dawn winery and marks the grave with a simple headstone, vowing that he’ll come by every day to polish it - even when he’s old and grey, and the flowers have stopped springing up in the grass

and, of course, THAT’S when you finally decide to show up

“what’s with the long face?”

there you stand, in the flesh, perfectly healthy if not a little malnourished, still dressed in the now rather tattered clothes that you set out in, and, most importantly, alive

he can hardly believe it. in fact, he doesn’t believe it for a good moment or two; he turns away, blinking hard as frustrated tears threaten to running down his face. surely he can’t be so grief-stricken that he’s started hallucinating?

but then you walk up to him and set a hand on his arm, a comforting and wonderfully solid hand, and the warmth in your voice as you ask him what’s wrong is too true to life, too inimitable to be an illusion. it’s you, and you’re alive!

he saves the questions for later and wastes no time in pulling you to himself, sinking to the ground as his legs finally give out beneath him. you wrap your arms around him, and he’s dimly aware of you speaking, but he’s so awash with his own relief and unadulterated joy that he can’t hear anything but the ecstatic thumping of his own heart

these two weeks without you have been absolute hell. he never wants to feel as he did again. he never wants to lose you again - he can’t lose you again

because this time, at least, you came back. if you hadn’t, and if in the future, you don’t… well, diluc doesn’t know what he’d become

for now, though, he holds you close. he’ll worry about it tomorrow - and tomorrow can wait. it owes him this much.

kaeya:

when you suddenly show up, dripping wet and looking remarkably like you’ve spending the past few days being pickled in brine, to your own graveside wake, kaeya is absolutely beside himself

he’d rather been under the impression that you were dead. deceased. completely gone from this mortal coil.

after all, who could survive being dragged into the waters of qingce by an oceanid? who could suddenly resurface perfectly intact after being trapped under the surface of the water for over four hours?

you, apparently. and kaeya isn’t sure whether he should be throwing himself at you in joy, weeping out of pure relief, or giving you the hardest punch he can for scaring him like that

five hours he’d waited by the lake’s edge, freezing paths over the dark water in hopes that he might catch sight of you in those depths if he went further out, wandering all the way around the lake’s border and then back again, hoping against all hope that you might have washed up on the shore

he knew, though, deep down, that there was no point. you were doomed as soon as he let you slip under the surface.

he’d stayed in the area for the next few days, always finding himself wandering back to the lake, no matter how much he tried to focus on exploring the new landscapes, hoping against all hope that he might see you again

but, of course, he didn’t, and so he returned to mondstadt with a piece of himself missing - a piece of himself that, though he denied it, died as soon as he watched you disappear into the water

no one was willing to dive into that lake to retrieve your body - if there was even a body to retrieve. kaeya tried to return to qingce to do it himself, but jean wouldn’t even let him out of the city.

“i can’t let you go,” she’d said impassively, steeling herself against kaeya’s pathetic, pleading gaze. “it’s suicide.”

kaeya had stared back at her, and his reaction would stay with her for the rest of her life.

“so what?”

in the end, kaeya hadn’t been allowed to journey back to qingce, and the funeral was held without a body

at which point you suddenly walked right up to the morose procession and enquired, loudly, as to whose funeral it was

the brief silence that follows is so palpable that you could probably smash it with a hammer

kaeya's completely frozen on the spot, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as your other friends converge on you, and you disappear under a multitude of tearful hugs for the next five minutes. he stays there, unmoving.

it’s only once the two of you are alone in that deathly-quiet graveyard that kaeya finally lets himself break down. his entire body is trembling as he sinks to his knees right there on the grass, hands reaching up and tangling in his hair as he attempts to come to terms with the tumultuous feelings threatening to overflow from inside him

you kneel in front of him, opening your arms silently, and he can only fall forward into your embrace, burying his face in your shoulder and unable to stifle a sob of pure relief that you’re here, you’re alive, he didn't fail you after all

he tries to apologise for not being able to stop you from going under in the first place, for not being able to save you, for not going back for you, but you refuse to let him apologise for something that wasn’t under his control. you just hug him tighter and promise in whisper that he did all he could, and that you’ll never leave him like that again

eventually, the two of you will have to separate, but right now kaeya can’t bring himself to let him go - not when, mere hours ago, he’d thought he’d never be able to hold you like this again

how much time do you pass like this? neither you nor kaeya know. only the gravestones surrounding you like stone sentinels do - and only they will ever know.

childe:

it’s something he’s heard stories about plenty of times: a lover goes out to war, or to call on a relative, or to sell vegetables at a market in the city, and never returns. but that’s all it’s been to him - a story. he’d always thought of it as something that happened to other people, never something that could happen to him

but it has, and now he thinks he understands why, even in old age, those people’s faces still seem haunted by that loss - indeed, the moment he found your abandoned sword half-buried on one of the beaches of guyun stone forest is one that’ll probably be burnt into his memory forever

a tiny part of him had still clung to the hope that you were alive out there somewhere, but it had already been days since you were first pronounced missing, and you’d never leave your weapon behind - after all, you were visionless. you had no way of defending yourself properly without it.

childe stayed on that beach for a long time. he still doesn’t know how long exactly, but it was long enough for the sun to dip beneath the horizon and for the waves to start lapping impatiently at his boots.

when he did leave, he took your sword with him. but he didn’t bury it just yet - because he refused to let go of that shred of hope

he employed himself for the next few days with looking for any sign of you - day and night, with barely any time to eat or sleep, chasing every lead he could find, no matter how small

but he found nothing, despite pulling out every single desperate tactic he could think of. he began to think that maybe he never would.

eventually, he set off for your favourite spot on mount tianheng, beneath a tree on one of the peaks, but he still couldn’t bring himself to bury your sword there

so, instead, he stabbed the blade into the ground, anchoring it firmly in the dirt - and, after a moment, stabbed one of his own arrows into the ground beside it. he told himself that this arrow would protect your sword as he should have protected you in the first place.

now, five days later, however, when he arrives at that spot to have a quiet moment to himself, the sword is gone. so is the arrow. all that remains of them are two neat little slots in the ground where they’d been stuck

his first thought is that they’ve been stolen, and he feels an immeasurable kind of rage begin to bubble at the pit of stomach - but then he hears a sharp little whizz, and the arrow he’d stuck beneath your sword comes flying out of nowhere and buries itself in the dirt by his feet.

he looks up, and there you are. sitting on a lower branch of the tree, sword at your hip where it always is, wearing that smile that he adores so much.

you hop down, and he stares at you in sheer shock for a moment. finally, he takes two, deliberate steps forward, and pulls you into a silent embrace.

there are no words, no tears, barely even a sound, but the way that his body trembles in your arms tells you all that you need to know.

a long while later, the two of you finally pull apart, and he sniffs bravely, then says with some of his usual bravado, “well, you have to tell me all about what happened now.”

and that’s the end of that - or so you think

for weeks afterwards, childe finds himself lying awake into the small hours of the morning, unable to go to sleep. he’s scared - no, terrified that, if he closes his eyes, you won’t be there when he opens them again

it’s almost funny, to be honest - first, you taught him love, and now you’ve taught him fear

but, in a way, he’s grateful that he’s learned to feel it - because, as long as this fear persists, he’ll be able to protect you with all he’s got.

zhongli:

it must have happened during osial’s attack, but he didn’t find out until an entire week after the fact

zhongli hadn’t dwelt on the incident for long, selfishly indulging in the freedom of a life free of an archon’s responsibilities, completely unaware of what had happened to you

he did of course wonder why you hadn’t come to see him, feeling almost a little hurt, but he reassured himself with the thought that you were probably busy helping out around the city - becuase, despite the traveller, adepti, and qixing’s best efforts, liyue harbour did sustain a fair bit of damage from the whole ordeal

but then he’d spotted a poster pinned up beside one asking after the traveller’s missing twin - a poster that, somehow, he’d completely missed for the past few days (or was he simply refusing to see it?)

your face smiles at him from the yellowing paper, and the single word stamped above your head seems to echo around him

how had he not realised that you were missing for an entire week? had he really been so idiotic as to think it wasn’t odd that he hadn’t seen you on the streets at all?

or did he realise the truth when you didn’t return to him as soon as the battle was over? was he simply refusing to accept it until this moment?

he doesn’t know. to be honest, he doesn’t care.

two days later, your posters start disappearing. no announcement comes, but the absence says two words loud and clear - ‘presumed dead’.

he finds it impossible to enjoy his freedom now, when every smiling face on liyue harbour reminds him of you in the most damning way possible

the reflection of his eyes in the tea in the bottom of his cup seems to warp into your own eyes, glaring back at him accusingly, asking, why did you let me die?

because - and this is the worst part of it all - zhongli only has himself to blame for all of this

none of this would have happened if he hadn’t made that deal with the fatui. osial only rose again because zhongli allowed those harbingers to do what they did.

he lingers for a long while over this, but in the end, there are only two things he can do. everything is over; he can either continue to regret, or move on.

he decides to light some incense for you, and sets out to buy some from a local merchant

and it’s there, as he attempts to make sense of the multitude of numbers being thrown at him, that he suddenly sees your face amidst the crowd milling around the harbour

that isn’t anything out of the ordinary anymore, but then he blinks and looks again, and you don’t swim out of view or fade away; you’re still very much there, wearing a faintly annoyed expression as the crowd around you continues to buffet you back and forth

zhongli makes a decision in a split second, abandoning the incense in the surprise merchant’s hands and charging after you, calling your name with barely-disguised desperation - and you barely have time to turn around before he’s crashing into you at such a speed that the two of you go toppling clean over

the people around scatter, some simply shaking their heads at the disturbance and others standing in shock at the sight of such a man behaving like this, but zhongli can’t be bothered to keep up his image at a moment like this

“you’re alive,” he whispers, indescribable joy rising in his chest when you laugh in reply. he didn’t think he’d hear that sound ever again.

the two of you must be a sight, tangled together and half-lying in the middle in th middle of the street. it’s the sort of behaviour that one would associate with lovesick teens, not the refined gentleman of a god that he is

then again, he can’t really help it. this is just the sort of thing you do to him - and he’s absolutely fine with it

xiao:

he should've known better than to let you see him in the first place, let alone get attached enough to keep allowing you to meet him over and over again

bad luck follows xiao around like a shadow, and it isn’t picky about who it affects

still, he did it anyway - he continued appearing to you whenever you asked him to

it was idiocy - though others might have called it love. for xiao, there isn’t really a difference - because only a fool would think they were deserving of love after committing the crimes that he had.

at first, you were never in danger when you called his name. he came anyway, of course - but then, one day, you were in danger, and he didn’t, not until it was already too late

the two of you hadn’t even been that far apart - he had perched atop one of the stone pillars in huaguang stone forest, and you’d been nearby on mount hulao. if only he’d responded as soon as you’d called, he would’ve gotten there on time.

but he was selfish, and chose to stay there on the pillar for a few moments longer, wanting just another minute to quiet contemplation before he joined you on the mountain

and, as the most damning torture of all, fate had you fall just as he landed on the mountain. he could only watch as you disappeared under the geovishap’s gargantuan claws

the minutes after that are unclear. all he remembered afterwards was the sure weight of his spear in his hands, the wind whipping against his face as he moved faster than he ever had before, the burn of tears in his eyes

xiao had thought that he’d long since lost the ability to cry. how cruel it was that this was how he learnt that he hadn’t.

when he became fully conscious of his surroundings again, the geovishap was stone dead, and you were nowhere to be seen.

still delirious (with grief or anger he didn’t know), xiao fled from the mountain, leaving behind the geovishap’s corpse, and a lump of amber that hadn't been there before

he didn’t know where he was going, only that he was running - and maybe, if he ran fast and hard enough, he’d be able to run straight out of his nightmare, and wake to find you alive on the other side

but, of course, he wasn’t dreaming, and he couldn’t wake up if he wasn’t asleep in the first place

which brings us to now. the last days since the incident have passed in a grey blur, and the fog is finally starting to lift enough from xiao’s mind for him to make a realisation

the amber on mount hulao - would it be too presumptuous to hope that his fellow adepti knew of his bond with you, and protected you where he couldn’t? he almost dares not to hope, but…

he moves faster than the wind itself, and he’s touching down at the spot before he’s even fully aware of it, the geovishap’s body has already melted away into the grass, leaving only the lump of amber that he’d somehow not taken account when he left all those days ago

breath held in anticipation, he raises his spear, and strikes the amber with the sharp edge of the blade. several shards splinter away; he spots something familiar within the orange resin

he works feverishly, and soon enough the last of the amber falls away, revealing you, in perfect health, and a little annoyed by the fact that he took this long to get you out

you can’t really stay mad at him for long, though, not with him looking at you like that, eyes wide and almost wondering

xiao surprises both you and himself by abruptly throwing his arms around you. he’s never initiated contact with you before, and you yourself have never gone beyond just patting his arm

it feels nice, he decides. he can only thank the universe - and his fellow adepti - for the fact that he’s able to lose himself in your embrace like this.

venti:

he heard the news one late afternoon, as he stood playing through his usual repertoire beneath the statue outside the cathedral

he’d picked up on your name amidst a conversation between two people passing by, and while his outward demeanour didn’t give anything away, he was listening intently almost immediately

“...don’t know what happened, but they found their boat by starsnatch cliff this morning. no body or anything, though.”

“talk about unlucky… they must have gotten caught in a storm or something.”

that was all venti managed hear before the two move out of earshot, but it was enough to shake him right to the core. his fingers stumbled on the strings of his lyre, so tense that he accidentally snapped a string

the crowd started murmuring amongst each other as he slowly lowered the instrument, face frozen and eyes wide. then he suddenly turned and sprinted in the direction of the knights of favonius’s headquarters, ignoring the loud complaints coming from his audience

he burst into the building without bothering to wait for approval from the guards outside, and they probably would have arrested him if lisa hadn’t walked out of the library at that moment and stopped them

venti practically dropped to her feet, begging her to tell him what happened - surely what he heard wasn’t true?

but lisa only shook her head and offered to bring venti to the site of your wrecked ship. she didn’t know either

the knights escorting the librarian to starsnatch cliff didn’t say anything about the bard following them, but the pitying looks they shot him said it all. they didn’t think there was a chance that you had survived.

in the end, venti couldn’t bring himself to face the wreckage - because he knew he would lose all hope if he did

he spends the next five days sitting at the precipice of starsnatch cliff, gazing out across the endless seas, desperately wishing that he might see the shape of a raft or a boat riding the distant waves. several times he falls asleep and dreams that your figure was sailing back to him from the fog, only to wake to see nothing but empty horizons again, and no amount of wind can swipe away his bitter tears then

then, on the evening of the fifth day, he suddenly sees something - a lone figure seemingly stumbling across the surface of the water itself, lurching every now and then

it’s been a long time since he’s used his powers like this, and his abilities have waned since the loss of his gnosis, but now he’s able to spur himself to his feet, gathering masses of winds beneath him, and he flies straight for the figure with wild abandon

and - joy of all joys - it’s you!

ice crackles from your feet with each, heaving step you take, and he realises that you’re clutching a blue-glowing stone in one hand

in that moment, venti forgets all enmity between him and tsaritsa, and thanks her with all his heart for granting you a vision

he swoops down and catches you in his arms, and the wind follows in his sheer joy, sending the two of you tumbling this way and that, before finally depositing you gently on the shore, mere metres away from your wrecked ship

venti doesn’t even speak for a good while, just clings to you desperately and refuses to let go for even a moment, and somehow that’s even worse than if he’d been in floods of tears instead

you just hold him in return, trying to catch your breath, and the two of you end up falling asleep right there and then, despite how uncomfortable it is there in the sand

venti’s been all cried-out for hours now, and your limbs are so heavy with fatigue that you can barely move, so there the two of you stay, huddled together like children

venti has already loved and lost once before, and that had been enough to think he would never love again. then you came along, and he loved, and lost again, but this time you came back to him, and for that he will always be endlessly grateful

albedo:

the two of you had been out on an impromptu resource-gathering expedition (read: secret date) on wuwang hill. it was your first time in liyue, so you were practically buzzing with excitement, and albedo felt more content than ever with watching your face light up at every new thing you saw

but the evening had quickly soured when the two of you came across a gang of treasure hoarders taunting an injured fox

albedo attempted to calm you down, wanting to deal with the situation as diplomatically as possible, but you’d been positively beside yourself, and flew forwards, aiming a punch at the leader of the group

somehow you managed to punch him hard enough to knock several teeth out of his mouth, and as he stumbled backwards with a yell of agony, the rest of the treasure hoarders turned on you as well

albedo couldn’t very well leave you to fight them off on your own (and, to be honest, he didn’t think very highly of the hoarders’ behaviour thus far), and so the two of you stood back to back, fending off all sorts of projectiles and punches being aimed at you

but neither of you were fighting to kill, only to defend and possibly incapacitate, so the things the two of you could do were limited. albedo imprisoned a decent number of them in geo-produced prisons, but they just kept coming - it was like two arrived to replace each one you knocked down

soon enough the two of you were cornered right on the edge of the hill, and, noting the dizzying fall behind, albedo turned to tell you that the two of you should retreat

everything that happened next seemed to be in slow motion. you turned to look at him, stance wavering for just the briefest of seconds - and a stray thrown blade struck you directly in the chest

in that moment, as you teetered on the edge, eyes wide and seemingly staring directly into his, everything around him seemed to drop into darkness

everything came to a standstill as you fell. the treasure hoarder that threw the blade stood there in shock, and as albedo stood there, frozen in horrified disbelief, his friends quickly seized him by the arm and ran for it

a wise choice - because, if they’d still been there when albedo suddenly came to, they probably wouldn’t have survived the encounter

instead, with no one around to take his anger out on, albedo could only hurry to find you down below on the rocks, using his geo vision to create steps along the steep cliff face

you aren’t breathing when he finally gets to you.

time seems to slow down. he sits there beside you for what feels like an eternity, until the sun has gone down and the blue sky is replaced with a carpet of darkness and stars

it’s beautiful, but he can’t bring himself to look at it. as far as he's concerned, the stars went out the moment he watched you fall, and he has no interest in looking at a dead sky

then, suddenly, he realises something. he doesn’t have medical training, now has he ever learnt to heal… but that doesn’t mean he can’t fix you in other ways

he knows that he doesn’t have the strength to carry you all the way to his laboratory in dragonspine, but he brings plenty of things everywhere with him - and there are plenty of other methods he can employ as well

taboo things, maybe, things that he never would have even thought to try on any other occasion - but he’s desperate, and there is no such thing as too far when it comes to you

he works with almost maniacal fervour, trying one thing after another and another, refusing to let himself rest for even a moment - because each passing minute marks even more distance between the two of you, and he cannot, will not let you drift out of his reach

hours later, the stars have disappeared again, and you open your eyes to see albedo gazing down at you with a faint smile.

---

lady ragnvindr and klees afternoon out

diluc ragnvindr x reader ft. klee | nothing but fluff | 2.8k +

rest.

your only job today was to rest or at least that was what your husband requested of you. after a few weeks of non stop commissions and helping out with the daily tasks that diluc normally swamps himself with, your body and mind were more than worn out and it didn’t take diluc long to notice or bring up his concern that you’ve been putting too much on your plate and ask that you take some time off to rest.

he found it impossible to tell you no when you had asked to start taking on some tasks around the winery shortly after your marriage and he doesn’t regret it one bit; how could he with such a hard working, admirable wife and partner? but that doesn’t stop him from worrying about you when you overwork yourself and seem to be more tired than he is these days. so today he offered to personally see to your tasks around the winery and bar and made you promise you wouldn’t take up any commissions, all he wanted was for you to rest.

you tried, you really did, but sitting around the winery with nothing to do started to drive you mad. you only lasted a good 2 hours after sleeping in before you found yourself slipping on your boots and starting to make your way to mondstadt. normally you’d be heading into town to help out at the angels share or take up a few commissions but you want to keep your promise to your husband. you have no intention of helping out at the tavern or stopping by the guild, instead you’ll stop by to see blanche and sarah to grab ingredients for a special surprise dinner for you and your love to share.

of course diluc would not consider spending all day in the kitchen preparing and cooking an extravagant meal as ‘resting’ but it also wasn’t work and that’s enough for you to justify it for today. besides, after a few extra hours of sleep you’re feeling much better than yesterday, like you really could go back to work or check off a commission or two without breaking a sweat but you shouldn’t, and to keep you honest in your promise not to work you leave your weapon at home and dress in something casual and comfortable instead of your work attire.

the sun is shining but a gentle cooling wind keeps it from being too hot and the breeze fills your nose with the scent of sweet grapes from the winery, slowly fading the farther you make it from home. your exposed skin soaks up the spring warmth and you’re a little thankful diluc didn’t take no for an answer when you protested that you were fine. if you hadn’t slowed down today how beautiful the day is might have passed you by without you even taking notice. it’s nice to walk at a leisurely pace and enjoy the quiet afternoon, your only wish now is that your beloved was here to enjoy it with you.

your admiration for the afternoon is cut off by a loud explosion coming from behind a thicket of trees not too far from the path. you’re only halfway to springvale but it’s too late to turn back to grab your weapon now. why didn’t you at least grab a small weapon?! you curse yourself thinking about the kunai you know is sitting in your night stand that could have found itself useful right about now. you might have just ignored the noise and moved on with your day, hilichurls are often around this area causing some trouble amongst themselves and that was reasonable enough to look the other way but when you hear the voice of a little girl you know you can’t just walk away, it’s your duty to check it out and help if someone is in need.

you move quietly, sneakily peaking through the trees to try to get a good look without alerting any kind of potential enemy of your presence. you can see the hilichurl camp in the distance, there are a few the explosion woke up that are wandering the outskirts of the camp curiously but the smoke is not coming in that direction and there are no enemies in the direction the gray cloud is coming from, though what- or more so who is beyond the smoke is not particularly harmless or defenseless.

“klee, what are you doing out here by yourself?” you ask, coming out from behind the trees. you kneel at her side, next to the big hole she dug, or maybe she blew up? you aren’t entirely sure.

“oh- hi!” she looks up at you and smiles big when she remembers who you are. just as quick as her greeting, she turns her attention back to what she was doing and puts a small chest into the ground and starts to push the loose dirt back where it came from..

from behind her she looks a little dirty but her movements are as free as they ever are, a good indication she’s not hurt. but that doesn’t stop you from asking. “are you okay? i heard an explosion a second ago, you didn’t get hurt did you?”

her head shoots up and she turns to you quickly, looking at you with worried, pleading eyes. “please don’t tell master jean! i didn’t hurt anyone or blow up anything but the ground! i promise!”

you can’t help but chuckle. “don’t worry about that, it’s our little secret as long as you’re alright.” as long as she’s not hurt you don’t see the harm in not informing jean. if kaeya can get away with it, so can you.

“i’m fine!” she reassures you and returns to her work, though this time it seems she’s taking the chest back out instead of burying it. “this is the place i test out my dried lizard tails,” she puts the chest in front of you and opens the lid to show you it’s contents. “did you want to see which ones i’ve got to explode?” her eyes gleam at the thought.

you instinctively check around you to ensure the near by hilichurls still haven’t noticed you, one has wandered close but as long as there’s nothing loud to draw it’s attention, you should be fine. “i don’t think so, it’s not very safe to do that here..” just as your eyes pan back to the little girl, she’s several feet away from you, outside the shelter of the trees mixing her explosive concoction “wait klee, don’t!”

your pleas fell on deaf ears and even if she had heard it, it was too late to stop the small fire she had already started that would set it all off. luckily the hilichurls have no sneaking skills when it comes to spotting humans so you don’t even need to look back to confirm your position is definitely blown but unlucky, their loudness easily alerts the others.

without wasting a moment, you run in klees direction and scoop her up in your arms, running back towards the dirt path that leads to springvale. you may be a little slower carrying the extra weight of klee but it was still faster than her little legs trying to outrun the monsters and keep up with you at the same time.

“wow, that was awesome!” she gleams in your arms as she stares behind you, watching the hilichurls follow you from their camp, the smoke from her latest bomb still rising in the air.

you let out a nervous chuckle, too focused on deciding which way to go to lose them quickly to tell klee that was in fact not awesome because you have no way of fending off the hilichurls. but if you found the right path, you could shake them off your tail, worst case they’d follow you all the way to springvale where the knights would deal with them.

you go from the path when you hear the big mitachurl heading your way and look back slightly to confirm how far it is from you. klee wiggles in your arms, reaching for her backpack to grab something out just as you spot a hill you know leads to a path close to where one of the knights is regularly posted.

stopping just at the edge of the slop to ensure it’s safety, you hear a clink on the ground and hear the small sparks of one of klees bombs.

“y/n let’s go! my bombs got this!” she says and doesn’t contain her excitement.

if the bomb didn’t get you first the mitachurl was sure to, you’ve got no choice but to jump.

“hold on tight klee!”

you aren’t sure what’s got you giggling like a child as your feet come to a stop at the bottom of the hill and your butt slides to the ground. was it klees laughing being contagious as she kicks her feet in your arms or how ridiculous you both look covered in dirt and soot from the bit of the bomb you weren’t able to avoid or perhaps the way her ridiculous bomb actually drove the hilichurls away? this was a lot more eventful than you had planned your day.

as both your laughs slow, you look down at her with a smile and ask for the second time today. “are you okay?”

“that was so fun! you got so messy!”

your laugh fills the air once again as you see how dirty her entire being is and how you’re sure you don’t look any better. “so did you.”

as much as she enjoyed your encounter with the hilichurls, the whole thing had tired little klee out and she fell fast asleep in your arms on the way back to mondstadt, her head resting on your shoulder as her small arms clung to your neck. you had to admit you were feeling just as tired as she was after that but you couldn’t stop and risk jean seeing either of you like this, you’d both be in trouble that not even diluc could talk you out of. all you needed was a good wipe down with a wet cloth, just enough to get klee mostly clean before you could leave the rest to kaeya.

slowly you made your way over the bridge before deciding it was best to enter from the side entrance closest to angels share, your next destination where your husband is bound to be. you were going to be in a little trouble with diluc when he sees you like this- not resting.

the knights manning the entrance don’t hide their curious and humored eyes when they spot you and you wave them off, watching as you quickly scurry off away from the gate and onto the next. you’re less likely to run into jean this way too, you could easily b-line it to the tavern and sneak in through the back with only a handful of eyes ever catching you and klee getting into trouble. but of course, the most important pair of eyes is one of the first to see you enter the city looking like hell.

diluc had happened to be outside the tavern checking over some wine barrels when your soot-covered figure entered his peripherals and he only had to look once to confirm, yes that was indeed his wife. his wife that should have been at home resting and more importantly archons- please don’t be hurt.

he’s by your side in an instant, his gloved hand gently pulling up your chin so your eyes meet. he might seem mad with his furrowed brows behind his bangs and deep frown on his face had it not been for the unsuppressed worry that lay behind his ruby orbs.

“i’m okay,” you assure him before he can say anything. you give him a reassuring smile, leaning into his touch as his fingers come to your cheek, his thumb attempting rubbing at the dirt off your face. his eyes only break from yours to look at the child in your arms. “we’re both okay, just dirty and a bit tired,” your hand comes up to cover your chuckle at the memory of your recent events.

the angelic sound of your laugh eases dilucs worry, though he’s still going to thoroughly check you over himself once you’re inside and he expects a full explanation of what led to this and not you spending your day at the winery, reading and resting as you please like he thought you were going to. “what happened?”

“archons y/n, running from hilichurls?” he asks after you’ve explained your day up until this point.

water splashes in the bucket as diluc rings out a rag next to you, exchanging it for your dirty one as you wipe the remaining dirt out of klees hair and begin to work on your own. she’s still fast asleep; now resting on the bar top, dilucs coat laying under her head for support. how she’s sleeping through all this movement you have no idea.

“why didn’t you have your weapon with you? you could have -”

“i know it wasn’t ideal,” you’d normally love to hear his voice and happily listen to what he has to say but sometimes it’s best to cut him off when you know when he’s getting away with his worries, it’s better to stop them in their tracks. you hate to see him in his own head worrying about the worst when you walked away unharmed, something he’s seen with his own eyes after checking you out personally. “but i was trying to keep my promise to you and i didn’t want to tempt myself into taking just one commission since i had it on me. i couldn’t leave klee when she needed my help either though.”

he admires your loving, caring nature and your fighting spirit, he just wishes it wouldn’t get you into trouble as often as it does. he wants nothing more than to protect you and keep you safe, a promise he’s made to you over and over again and it’s one he intends to keep with every fiber of his being. letting out a sign, he rings out another rag and takes a step closer to you, trapping you between him and the wall of the tavern. his loving, yet stern eyes scan your face as he brings the warm cloth up to your cheek to get the smudge you missed, his touch lingering on your reddening skin for a moment before moving down to your neck, the cloth remaining warm thanks to his vision.

“i appreciate that you wanted to keep your word but your safety is most important to me,” once he’s satisfied with your neck being clean he meets your gaze once more. you smile sweetly, inconnectly and the rest of the lecture he had for you was forgotten as he got lost in your sparkling eyes. “i’m glad you’re alright.”

“i’ll be more careful next time, i promise,” you whisper as he leans down to kiss your forehead, the smell of wine and oak taking over your senses as he presses his lips to your soft, warming skin.

“good,” he replies, pulling away slowly and you swear your knees would have given out at the sight of his smile had it not been for the way your heart was racing at his proximity. even if they had given out from under you, he would have been there to catch you.

he turns to klee who’s begun to stir, slowly waking up from her nap. as she sits up, diluc asks for her permission to carry her back, sliding on his coat before scooping her up in his arms when she says it's okay and that her legs are too tired to walk anyways.

klee gets comfortable quickly against his shoulder, snuggling against him as he begins to walk towards the door with you in tow and you swear the butterflies in your stomach we’re going to burst out of you any moment at this sweet interaction between the pyro users.

“it seems i’m going to have to make sure you rest by doing it myself, aren’t i?” he asks, his eye brow raising, a small smirk on his lips as he looks at you after locking the back door to the tavern.

“if it means you’ll come home and take a hot bath with me then yes,” you grin, grabbing onto his free arm as you make your way down the streets of mondstadt. he couldn’t say no to that, and he can’t lie that he’s missed your presence a lot today. “can i still make you dinner?”

you did mention the whole reason you were coming into town was for that very reason. he can’t help but smile at your thoughtfulness and the thought of enjoying a meal with you, something he doesn’t get to do as often as he’d like. “i’d enjoy that.”

“so that’s what you look like when you smile?!” klee exclaims, staring at him with a wide smile of her own.

in which sebek steals a dance with you during the glorious masquerade event. you both make an entire spectacle on the dance floor. (alternatively, sebek is flirting with you and is trying to be super nonchalant about it by saying it's for the sake of Malleus' honor). sebek zigvolt x reader note: i was watching this and imagined every single twst guy doing this in glorious masquarade. but i love sebek smsmsm so its sebek today. also, did you know that crocodiles do courtship dances during mating season?

Masquerade balls were not the most accessible event from your modern world. To think that you would get the opportunity was but a fleeting dream. At least, that was the case until you were dragged along to Fleur City. How fortunate of Vil to tailor your own attire for you. The process was not free of charge, of course. All it truly costed was several days of Vil playing dress up with his human mannequin. Thankfully, the fires caused by Rollo's magic never left a scratch on your garments, and you were more than happy that the ball had resumed after the incident.

With such grace, you let out a fit of giggles as Rook twirled you around on the dance floor. "Well done, Trickster! It seems that Vil's dance lessons have finally paid off as well." The blonde lowers himself to a bow, and you return a gesture of your own with a wide grin. "Yeah! I gotta thank him once we get back. Those shoes he recommended me were very good too!"

Looking back on the sea of students and staff alike, you found some relief in Trein watching over Grim and Deuce as they raided the tables lined up with food. Everyone else seemed to be occupied, whether they were mingling with other students or eyeing Rollo with caution. Rook takes your hand once more, stepping into the imaginary box dictating your steps as you pivot backwards. He leans into your ear, hands lightly tapping at your shoulders as you both paused.

"Have you noticed how Monsieur Crocodile has been watching you?"

Eyes flickering upwards, you see the half-fae standing guard by Malleus and Silver. Whereas Malleus seemed engrossed in a conversation with a Noble Bell student, and Silver occupied with his duty, Sebek's gaze was trained onto you like a hawk. It was too intense, too different from the way he watches over Malleus and his surroundings with such caution. No, this felt much different.

Rook leans in closer, and you swear he is smiling at Sebek. You swear that Rook is trying to provoke him with the way he shifts closer to your ear. "He has been eyeing you for a long time now, Trickster." The song sways into motion once more, and you have turned around to face the hunter entirely. He finds himself amused over your pink cheeks, the way you shake your head wildly in denial. "Please, Rook. He probably doesn't want me dishonoring Malleus in some way, shape, or form because his lord is associated with me." You rambled nervously, swallowing to yourself as Rook takes your hand and turns you through the dance floor as the strings soften their volume.

"Non, non. I would be delighted to disagree." Rook comes to a halt, tilting his head to the side as he returns his hands behind his back. You pause, confusion overtaking your expression until you turn your head to the side, finally eyeing what had caught the hunter's attention. Striding forward was a seemingly coolheaded Sebek, a hand trained behind his back and the other, relaxed at his side. Fixing his signature smile, Rook bows slightly before the knightly figure.

"Good evening, Monsieur Crocodile! I have yet to see you on the dance floor."

Clearing his throat, Sebek nods at Rook with a tight jaw. "It appears that Epel requires your presence. May you tend to him before he gets swamped with too many unwanted admirers?" The three of you glance off to the side, eyeing a distressed Epel trapped in a crowd of students who seem too eager to ask him for a dance. You suppose that without Vil to overshadow everyone else, Epel's charms were rather hard to resist for some. Maintaining that smile, Rook leaves with a short nod to both you and Sebek, striding away from the dance floor with poise.

Hands fallen to your lap, you watched as Sebek take a step closer in front of you. Does he hear your heart pounding as he holds out his arm? Biting onto your inner cheek, you tilted your head to meet his eyes which were filled with nothing but sheer determination. "Prefect, may I have the honor of stealing you for this dance?"

He does not miss the way your cheeks burn red now, and you do not miss the way his ears matched the same color. Steal? That sounded intimate, in comparison to simply 'asking' you for a dance. Not that it mattered though, not when your heart was doing the flips in your chest for him. "But of course, Sebek. I would be delighted."

It takes you by surprise as he reached out for your hand, gently lowering his head to place his lips against your knuckles. If you were already flushed red, surely, you felt even warmer than before. You do not even register the way he places his hand on your waist, the other held high for you to clasp on. You waste no time either on shuffling your steps according to his pace, constantly adjusting and turning to his lead. Though his head was held highly, his eyes were still trained onto your face.

"I never knew that you were good at dancing." You tell him, taking a quick glance to the side to find Malleus and Silver observing you both, smiling at the sight. Sebek pays no mind to the crowd, grunting in response. "To master the art of dancing is another skill to perfect, should I be a knight worthy of the Young Master. Even beyond the sword, it is his honor that I carry."

The strings are soft and gentle as Sebek circles you, his hand never leaving your waist. To onlookers, it appears that Malleus's vassal in the making has a second master. He is close, yet keeps a distance to exercise his restraint. Sebek knows better than to impose onto your space, but he would not appear to be a stranger. After spending more than enough time with you, whether it be within the company of Malleus or not, it was safe to say you were at least acquaintances, if not friends.

Still, friends do not dance together so intimately in front of crowds, not like this. There was a certain delicacy to his steps, and you can feel his eyes on you even when your back his turned. When he takes your hand, he laces his fingers before pulling away as if you were set alight. You try to follow, give chase as you both brush elbows with a turn, barely catching his conflicted expression as he returns his hand to your waist. It is a neverending cycle of push and pull, chasing and running, wanting and longing.

With a pivot, you take a step towards Sebek's chest as he closes the distance. A quiet gasp leaves your lips as your chin lightly brushes against the padding of his chest, just as his hand presses against your lower back for support.

And just then, the music stops and all you hear are murmurs and whispers from the crowd.

You take the time to peer into your surroundings past Sebek's shoulder, marveling at the crowd that had seemed to circle the grand ballroom. Pairs of Noble Bell students are stationed at the border of the dance floor, centering you and Sebek in the middle of it all. The combination of a magicless student and a half-fae look out of place, not to mention how your attires seemed to stand out from Fleur City's garments.

Sebek comes to the conclusion faster than you as he huffed to himself. "Ah, it seems we are put on the spot." For once, he is quiet. Quiet does not always yield to meekness, however. He lowers himself to your ear, unable to see your piqued expression. "What shall we do, Sebek?" You feel him shift his head every so slightly, looking towards the direction of where Malleus was supposedly sitting.

The half-fae grunted, and you could feel his fingers on your hip tense slightly. "The Young Master's honor befalls on us both, so does the honor of Night Raven College." After what felt like a long time, Sebek slowly pulled away to look you in the eye. You were not shying away from him, too lost in the moment to consider the possibility of stage fright.

"Prepare yourself, Prefect. I shall not hold back on your accord if you wish." Bravado returns to Sebek's voice, almost similar to his usual tone when proudly representing the Briar prince. It is the way that his lips threaten to twitch into a smirk as you beam at him with an agreeable nod. "Good, looks like we're on the same page." You breathed out, the strings strumming to life once more. The tempo is faster now, and your head tunes into the beat quickly.

You surprise Sebek as you take the initiative first. Much like the Trickster you were, you circle Sebek once with an arm ghosted before his chest until you meet his front. Clenching his jaw, he was taken aback by a mere moment by your boldness before a smug smirk surfaces across his features. He takes your hand slowly, taking a careful step forward before falling into the beat.

You supposed that everyone had Vil to thank for teaching the inexperienced students on how to dance with one another. It was not the first time you would be dancing with Sebek, but this was an entirely different matter. There wasn't much of a dance routine to recall, but only trust that your partner would always be in sync with you.

Sebek never disappoints when it came to observation, and it didn't take too long for him to adjust to your movements.

The world spins with each turn and pivot, but Sebek never relents and neither do you. His cape is flying through the air, and the extensions from your clothes flow in sync with his movements. As you barely ghost your head from his chest, you continue to glance into the crowd. You were barely able to catch Deuce and Grim from the crowd, attempting to support you with a 'thumbs-up'. Then you could see Rollo and Malleus side-by-side, arms crossed and musing upon the sight.

Everyone was switching partners, leaping from one dancer to another. Sebek's gentle grip on you remained, and your hand never leaves his shoulder as you both spun.

There were so many people whose eyes were trained on you, and the idea makes your head spin until your dance partner noticed. "Prefect, do not stray your gaze from me." You are almost startled by how commandeering his voice had become. For a slight moment, you both pull away, an arm behind your backs and the other lacing fingers. His eyes trained onto yours, as they always were, Sebek gives you an encouraging smile. "Focus on me." You do not understand, judging by the way you cock your head to the side innocently. "Care not for what the others think of you. It is only you and I here."

It takes a moment for you to relax, returning his smile before you closed the distance once more with a sweep of your foot. "And what are you thinking of, Sebek?" You respond, and it is that look on your face that takes his breath away. As he sweeps at the floor with you, he struggles to find the words. Between dancing and thinking, both had begun to feel difficult with each second that passes while he remained fixed onto your eyes. Ever so quietly, he finally clears his throat to answer your question.

"I am thinking about how the radiance of Fleur City pales when compared to your expressions."

Everyone is leaping again, the colors of Noble Bell wash over into a blur as your lips parted with surprise. Words are trapped in your throat as you looked up at Sebek, eyes softening in thought. For a moment, Sebek's face froze, almost as if he feared your reaction when it was anything but rejection. Your silence would've pained him, if he weren't so captivated by your expression as the world continues to spin.

Finally, he breaks the silence with a whine.

"Please don't look at me like that, Prefect. I beg you." It snaps you out of your trance, prompting you to furrow your eyebrows slightly in confusion. "Why? I am only looking at you like you asked." Sebek's grip tightens only slightly, demonstrating even further restraint. Almost like an agonized hiss, he responds with an accusing glare. "That's exactly it! I cannot think straight when you look at me with such an endearing expression!"

If it was an indirect comment, it cracks a smile from your face. Even as your eyes flutter shut into your stifled laughter, you never truly face away from the half-fae. Huffing to himself, Sebek's ears flush a warm pink. "You dare provoke me like this?" He says quietly, but it is merely a warning before he puffs up his chest with pride, regaining a new sense of energy.

Squeezing your hand with care, Sebek cleared his throat with a scowl. "Very well, then I shall give you my all for tonight. Do not regret this." As surly as he attempts to be, it does not deter you from returning his gesture with a squeeze of your own. "Of course not!"

You no longer know how long you have been dancing for. It seems that a few pairs have resigned to rest, leaving behind more room for you and Sebek to explore. You've long stopped paying attention to your surroundings, far too concerned with the way Sebek mutters quick praises into your ear with each turn and twirl. He is swift with his feet, yet so careful to ensure you do not fall on his watch. Neither of you have yet to stumble, far too engrossed and connected to collapse now.

"Good, Prefect! Keep up!"

The music never stops, and it seems it has no intents of stopping until only one pair remains. If your feet were ever tired, you never notice, not when Sebek's hands are constantly finding ways to touch you. Even as you both part for mere seconds, it does not take long for him to come back. He returns to you, just as how you retreat to him, how you surrender yourself to him, how you trust him to not let you fall.

You never realize how he comes so close to your face, dipping you low until his breath brushes against the crook of your neck. Sebek's arm was secure in the way he kept you from falling onto the floor, despite how far he had lowered you. His hot breath brushed against your cheek, and you could feel his body tense as you tighten your grip on his shoulder. "Is it appropriate for you to be this close to me?" You murmured softly, meeting his dilated eyes, that beautiful shade of gold. "Does it cause you discomfort?" He muttered in turn, almost ready to shift away should you express it. Much to his concern, you shook your head with a coy smile. "No."

Sebek held a smug smirk, confidence reflected behind his eyes once more. Just as he heaved forward to pull you back up, his lips brushed against the slight curve of your ear. For a moment, you wondered if it was just your imagination when you felt a sharp fang press itself against your skin for a brief moment.

"Very good, Prefect."

It clicks.

This is no longer an ordinary dance. It is a game of hiding one's affections. For someone as loud and proud like Sebek, it comes to a slight surprise that he would indulge in subtleties to express his fondness for you. Once he had pulled you from his dip, something changes within Sebek's movements.

Sebek holds you as if he were possessed, eyes glazed with yearning. The song had begun to ride out its climax, intensifying just as your partner closed in on you like a predator trapping its prey. It's not just about upholding reputations now.

Leaning into your space, Sebek's restrained hand lightly clawed at your back as he presses you closer to him. Finally able to obscure himself from your vision, he struggled to keep himself from growling, however much he could hold back the fae within him.

"Be careful, Prefect. If you keep looking at me with those eyes of yours,"

Pulling away, he bares his fangs before you, teeth clenched with intense concentration. Perhaps the act of putting on a show was no longer on his mind, traded in for the experience of watching your lovely expressions as he continued to control your turns with each step and pull. Sebek would never let you turn away from him, and you wouldn't dare to tear yourself away from his powerful gaze.

"I might just devour you whole."

"Monsieur Crocodile! I did not expect such a display from him, I applaud his tenacity!" Azul sighed to himself, debating on whether he should or shouldn't entertain the blonde who had taken to himself with a handkerchief to his eye. Against his better judgement, he turns to Rook with an exasperated expression. "His tenacity is applaudable, yes. Still, I do not understand why you have to shed a tear, Rook."

"Have you not noticed, Roi d'Effort?" Rook clicks his tongue, his smile relaxing as he swoons over the sight of the pair returning to Malleus and Silver. "It is most common to part from your current partner and land in the arms of another for these waltzes. The entire point of this dance is to explore different faces, after all." Only then does it click for Azul who hums in amusement, seemingly impressed by the sentiment.

"Monsieur Crocodile has not switched partners at all, and the knight-to-be has no intentions of ever handing off the Trickster to anyone else." Azul certainly never coined Sebek to be quite the romantic.

From a distance, you nudged Sebek's shoulder with a cheeky smile. "I suppose this demonstrates the good will between fae and humans, doesn't it?" You teased, only to be met by a reddened Sebek. All the bravado he exhibited during that dance seemed to have disappeared in Malleus's presence, but it's not as if you disliked it.

"R-Right! You are correct, Prefect! This spectacle shall demonstrate the Young Master's benevolence towards humans, as well as all those who represent him!" Sebek rambled, unable to meet you in the eye. Rubbing at the back of his neck, Malleus could only smile to himself in amusement.

It seems that Lilia had won his bet; Sebek will not be expressing the entirety of his true feelings to you today.