arnave

So as Itto stood by your side, head hung low from your scolding, you spoke with Lady Kujou.

"Of course, Lady Kujou! I’m so sorry for my husbands mess." Lady Kujou wordlessly replied, nodding her head, all as she walked away.

Itto on the other hand, was ecstatic, his heart was swelling, but he had to make sure, “You’re husband, baby?! I’m your husband??” He jumped around excitedly, “You know what! Yeah, I am! Thee Arataki Numero Uno Itto! Of course you’d want me to be your husband!” He hugged from your waist.

“Itto,” You put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m still mad at you.”

He shivered, “Ah.”

- Ayato

You and Ayato hurried to your dinner party, you were exasperated, you're legs were going numb in these shoes. Your jogging slowed down as you reached the doors of the party, elegant music and chatter ran through the thick wood doors, the guards on both sides opened the doors, a few wandering eyes landed upon you two, and soon it was a known through the room that the Yashiro commissioner and his lover had arrived; the hosts walking toward you.

"Why hello! I’m so happy to see you two could make it.” They smiled, clasping their hands together.

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry for the tardiness of me and my husband!” Your eyes soften, you could feel the gaze of Ayato fall onto you: soft, gentle, and you could almost see hearts in there.

“Oh please! Worry not! We hadn’t had to wait long, my lady/lord.”

“We would love to talk more, but allow me and my wife/husband to get some drinks first.” Ayato smiles, there was an underlying sense of slyness; he was a tease, a teasing scoundrel.

As the two of you walk away you could feel his hand in the small of your back gently rubbing circles with his thumb. Glass in hand his head turned to you, “Husband, hm?” His eyebrow raised, he was teasing you— again.

“Huh? Yeah. It’s not like it’s new or anything.” You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. You were hellbent on not losing, you’re not gonna fold, no way!

He simply smiled, his non-vacant hand holding yours, smoothing over it with his thumb. “You indulge me too much, dearest.”

You folded.

- Diluc

You and Diluc often took strolls through the city of Mondstadt in his free time, which meant running to people every so often. Now, being one of those times. And though he didn’t have any hatred towards such interactions would it truly be so criminal of him to wish to have his lover - and only his lover- on his time off?

This time it was an elderly couple, so it felt all too rude to decline a conversation with them, so he simply let it be, allowing you to handle the conversing and chiming in a - “Hmm,” or an “Mm”, not that the elderly couple minded, he was known to not be super talkative.

It was all until the teasing of the couple came up, a small grin graced their faces, arms interlocked, as they look at one another then turned to you, “So, you don’t seem all that young. When are you to be wed?” Dilucs composure denounced, his eyes turned wide, he turned to you in a Huff, but all you could do was laugh. He cleared his throat, composed once more, ready to answer,

“Aw, I’m not sure, perhaps when both me and my husband is ready.” You smile, looking at him, you placed a hand on his shoulder gently rubbing it. The couple simply nodded, thinking if their next move to fluster Master Diluc.

- Albedo

To my dearest husband, Albedo,

It seems my arrival to Mondstadt will be held off for another few days as there is a storm brewing and I am unsure if it’s safe for me to come. But I assure you, the moment the storm is to stop I will run to your side. For now, we must simply be patient.

But how are you, my love? I hope you’re not putting too much on your plate— again. And I hope you’re getting proper rest. I swear, if I come to Mondstadt and I see your ridiculously massive eye bags once more I might lose it. And how is Klee? Any more incidents? I surely hope not, for her own sake and Mondstadts…

As for myself I am doing well, the inn I am staying in is awfully cozy. The keeper is very sweet, our conversations are a very nice pass time, informative too!

But that aside, I hope to be home soon, and in your embrace once more.

Love, your forever, ( ).

- Kaveh

As per usual you were at the café, eagerly waiting for your food. It felt like it had been ages since you had last eaten a good meal, and you were excited, and Kaveh was there too, so that’s nice too— you guess. As you drawed shapes into the table with your finger, anxiously waiting for the food you couldn’t help but notice Kaveh staring at you.

“What’s wrong, Vehveh?” You asked, your gaze never leaving the table.

He scrunched his brows, “What an odd nickname, Vehveh. I like it. But why not something else?”

You shrugged, “Whatever makes you feel better,” you struggle to stifle a laughter, “Kaka.”

His eyes widen, he slams his fist on the table (gently), “This is an outrage! How dare you call me something so atrocious, love! This is a full fledge betrayal! And look at me would you!” He huffs.

You only smile, slowly looking up at him, “Sorry, would you prefer..” You sit up and lean against the table, whispering in his ear, “Husband?” You then smiled and sat down.

Pushing herself up, she blinks blearily at the sight of you: curled up in a shady patch of grass, completely undisturbed by the impact. So still that if not for the gentle aura of your fate, she might have thought you were dead.

She sits back on her haunches, looking down at your face. It’s not all that different from your waking one. You’re always so sleepy after all. Nahida doesn’t think she’s ever seen you look awake, really. You’re always so pale and sluggish. Every report always punctuated with a long, tired yawn.

…though maybe you do look a little different, she thinks. Something about your face does seem a little more relaxed. Although she can’t quite pinpoint what.

She reaches forward to poke your cheek. It’s soft.

Somehow at this you do react. Brow furrowing slightly as you turn away. Nuzzling your cheek further into the grass. It disturbs a nearby lady beetle, which flies up into the air and in a circle before landing on the tip of your nose.

It starts crawling up the bridge of your nose, and Nahida holds her breath, waiting for your reaction. She expects you to scrunch up your face, or swat at your face, or sneeze… only you smile instead?

Nahida finds herself giggling. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen you smile like that before. She has seen you smile, but its aways be insincere or threatening. She’s never seen such a soft content expression on you. It suits you.

She wonders what caused it. What kind of dream would create such a gentle expression? The curiosity pushes her forward, until she’s cuddled up against you. Her face opposite yours, smooshed up against the ground. The grass is ticklish where it brushes against her face. She places a palm against your cheek.

It’s an invasion of privacy. But she just wants a little peak! She knows that if woke you and asked, you wouldn’t say no. It wasn’t worth waking you up.

Surely you wouldn’t mind?

Alhaitham finds you at your desk. Ink smudged across your cheek from the paperwork pressed against your face.

He squints at the familiar writing, and down at the paper half-obscured by your face. Identifying the proposals he had requested you process for the meeting half an hour ago. The meeting that you had no doubt slept through.

He leans over to hover his palm over you mouth. And upon feeling a warm gentle breath against his skin, wastes no time in covering your mouth with his hand, and pinching your nose with the other.

It takes maybe ten seconds for you to stir, squirming awake and away from his hands. He lets you go, crossing his arms and leveling you with an unimpressed look.

“…so rude,” you say, rubbing your poor nose.

“This is the third time this week. And it’s only Wednesday.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Of course, you didn’t mean to,” he scoffs. “I trust I don’t need to remind you just how unprofessional this is. We had to cancel this morning, by the way.”

“…sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t do it again.”

You look at him.

He sighs, before saying, “That wouldn’t be a tall order for anyone else. You make it seem like I’m the one being unreasonable in this situation. Anyone else would be perfectly capable of not falling asleep on the job.”

You sink down in your chair only to pause when Alheitham narrows his eyes.

“If I catch you asleep again today, I’m going to promote you to new sage of Vehumana.”

You look at him in horror.

“That’s not an idle threat either. Do you know that half a dozen of your fellow scholars have already elected your as their preferred candidate? ”

“You’re lying.”

“You know that I’m not. Take this as the warning that it is. As long as you do you job, you get to stay in your nice and comfortable role. I don’t have the time to babysit you like this anymore.”

You feel your face twist. You had never asked him to look out for you; he was the one that had taken it upon himself to do so. And of course, now he’s shoving it in your face. It’s such a typical way of Alheitham showing lopsided affection.

“Kaveh wouldn’t be so mean,” you say. Partly because it’s true. Partly because you want to rile him up.

He falls for it, of course.

“Kaveh is a spinless leech. Why do you insist on comparing me to that man? He’s so oblivious he would forget his head in the morning if it wasn’t tethered to his spine. How how managed to weasel his way into the Akademia in the first place—

Cyno spots you in the middle of a job. Halfway through tracking a rogue academic. Even from this distance he easily detects your steady breathing and the slight red tinge to your ears. You’re fast asleep. As always.

You’re seated awkwardly at park bench, head lolled to the side. Cyno’s neck feels stiff just looking at you.

It’s far from the first time he’s found you like this; sleeping heavily in a public, precarious space. If he had the time, he would bring you to Tighnari. The forest ranger’s lectures would usually make you more cautious of your surrounding for a week or so before you inevitably fell back into your typical bad habits.

But Cyno doesn’t have time. His quarry might be slow, but he knows better than to give any leeway to an opponent. The opportunity he gives his enemy is the one they will use to strike him down.

He doesn’t bother trying to shake you awake. It barely works at the best of times. And if the noise of the market doesn’t stir you, then Cyno doubts he can. Instead, he picks you up. Adjusting his hold so that your head lays against his chest. Your hair is warm from the sun.

Glancing around, he spots a small roof garden that will serve as a good enough cache. He springs to the rooftop, mindful of your body being jostled by the momentum. You’re not nearly heavy enough to impede his mobility—his spear is easily twice his own weight, so anything else is hardly comparable.

He leaves you there. Curled up in the roof garden.

When you wake, the sky is filled with a carpet of stars. They twinkle between the slats of an unfamiliar roof. For a moment you think you see a shooting star, but it’s gone between blinks. You stretch your arms out, yawning. The air is cold, but the lingering blanket of sleep warms you well enough.

“Finally awake?”

You look to the side. To Cyno, seated against a beam where he looks upwards towards the sky. Drinking in the night sky with eyesight that was no doubt a thousand times better than you could ever imagine.

“Good morning,” you sigh, sitting up groggily.

“Did you move me? ...or was I sleep walking again? I’m sure that I”—you yawn— "fell asleep somewhere sunny.”

He hums, looking towards the sky.

“Sometimes, I’m a little jealous of how easily you fall asleep. My insomnia has been getting worse,” he says.

You close your eyes, resigned.

“But I’m not going to lose any sleep over it.”

Tighnari freezes when he sees you. Slung precariously over a tree branch at least twenty feet off the ground.

He remembers Collei asking after you earlier today and had thought nothing of it at the time. Of course, he would find you now; in the middle of a forest during a poisonous algae bloom. Your lack of awareness knew no bounds.

He takes a step forward, a stray twig crunching underfoot, and to his horror he sees you begin to stir. You look towards him with bleary eyes and move as if to roll over. Only there’s nothing to roll onto except for open air.

Springing forward, he’s only just able to catch you. But the impact sends you both tumbling, rolling along the forest floor for several meters before Tighnari manages to bring you to a stop.

You stare up at him, taking in his disheveled hair and bristling ears. When he pushes himself upright, so that you’re no longer bracketed between his arms, he blows a wayward piece of green hair out of his face.  He’s normally so put together, so a glimpse of a ruffled Tighnari is terribly endearing.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing here?” he asks, brow pinched with what you hope is worry and not anger. It was always hard to tell with Tighnari.

You reach forward and pull a stray leaf out of his hair in lieu of an answer.

“You…” he sighs. It’s a very familiar sound.

“Come on. It’s dangerous to linger this close to the swamp at the moment.”

He offers you a hand and pulls you upright. And then, to your amusement, starts fussing over you. Brushing the leaves off your hair and straightening out the seam of your coat so that it sits square on your shoulders.

“You have got to start taking better care of yourself.” His stern tone is overshadowed by the flat cant of his ears. “Who knows what could have happened if I wasn’t here.”

“Thank you Tighnari.”

“Hmpf.”

He leads you back towards Gandharva Ville.

You’re not far—you’re well aware of your limits when it comes to travel—so it only takes an hour before you’re being ushered into Tighnari’s clinic. You watch with displeasure as he starts tinkering with all manner of medicines and herbs. No doubt putting together the most noxious, bitter concoction he can possibly make to dissuade you from coming back to Avidya Forest anytime soon.

“Any headaches, confusion or nausea?”

You shake your head. Only when you realise he still has his back to you, do you say, “no.”

“No insomnia, obviously. And I suppose the chronic narcolepsy is still as disabling as ever? How about fever? Lethargy? Is it any more so than usual?”

“I feel normal.”

“That’s great,” he says, turning towards you with a bowl of something. “This will help with any potential complications that the algae spores might cause. It should serve as a bit of a pick me up, too.”

You take the bowl with both hands. Looking down at the dark green thick liquid. The smell is, you sniff, about as bad as usual. Which is to say it smells like a ripe compost bin.

“Glaring at it won’t make it go away. Come on, don’t be a child and drink your medicine.”

“Is it bitter?” you ask. Knowing very well that it will be bitter. It’s always bitter.

“No.” Tighnari gives you a placid smile.

You drink the medicine like a shot and stick out your tongue at Tighnari. Who proves once again be a lying fox who lies.

Nilou screams when she stumbles across your body. You’re contorted with rigor mortis, neck hanging at an acute angle and arms slung haphazardly around you from when you hit the ground.

Only, you seem to react to the noise? Blinking bleary eyes at her as you stretch out—joints clicking noisily—and your limbs move into much more natural looking positions.

“Nilou?” You yawn. “Are you ok? What’s with the all the ruckus.”

The ruckus is you, she wants to say, why are you sleeping behind the stage? When did you get there? Who let you in? How long have you been there?

But, Nilou is nothing but unfalteringly polite. Even to her own detriment. So rather than bombard you with questions right after waking you up, she takes a deep breath and offers you a hesitant but kind smile.

“Sorry I, uhm, didn’t expect to see you back here! It’s not everyday you see someone from the Akademia having a nap in the costume room.”

“Oh.” You look around. “So this is a costume room?”

“Yes, it sure is!”

“Cool.”

You look at Nilou. She’s clutching a bundle of bright blue fabric. The fabric is two toned where the light hits it, turning a greenish gold. Nilou’s smile turns strained.

“Am I… not meant to be in here?”

“Well, backstage is typically not open to the general public. Especially for general, uhm, recreational activities. But that’s ok. After all you’re hardly the general public after all!” Nilou’s eyes seem to go slightly wide at this. As if her train of thought is only just catching up to her words.

“I’m not? Oh.” You pause, consideringly. You hadn’t realised that your relationship with Nilou was that familiar. She had always been very nice and polite. But you assumed she was just that way with everyone. Apparently not. “Thank you Nilou.”

You come by more frequently after that. Inadvertently scoring a front row seat to most of Nilou’s performances. You had never placed that much value in the arts before. But watching her dance, experiencing her passion firsthand… it was hard not to be affected.

It becomes one of your go to spots. It’s generally pretty quiet backstage. And the temperature is nice, cool and slightly humid from being underground. Increasingly you wake up to extra pillows or blankets, and occasionally an extra braid threaded into your hair.