i'd like to say i love you

Lyney’s feelings find themselves overflowing with devotion, too much for him to properly handle, but it feels too good for him to let go.

It’s nearly every day when he thinks about him confessing his utter love for the way you say his name, for the way you maintain eye contact, for the way you smile so lovely at him, for the way he’d get down on one knee and say that his heart lies in your hands, and even if you plucked it apart, piece by piece, he’d be grateful that you were the one to be there until its last breath. 

People say there’s no such thing as love at first sight, but Lyney proclaims that he’s experienced it firsthand, because ever since you’ve met, he’s only been able to think of cooking for two, only been able to think of gifts that, conspicuously or not, loudly cry for your attention, not unlike himself. 

He flirts, he charms, he blushes, and yet he can never seem to come out with the very words that open the locked doors that guard your heart. 

He notices your reactions, whenever you invite him out, when you peer with interest at seeing a certain item on sale, and when your eyes light up when he surprises you with a goofy grin, gifting you that same certain item (plus a couple more), because no matter how much, he somehow has that little bit of change that’s always there. 

Always there. He likes to think that his love is always there. There when you cry, and there when you laugh, and there when you’re having an afternoon drink with him, and there when he gazes at you when you’re talking about something that you like and when he thinks that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on. Even though you don’t truly know how far his love goes. 

In fact, you’ve only seen Lyney upset once in your life. 

The weather in Fontaine is unpredictable–rainy one moment and then sunny the next–and it just had to be the one day you forgot bring an umbrella. You had arrived at the Café Lucerne sopping wet, drenched to the bone with moisture that made you feel all icky and cold. Lyney was seated at one of the tables, and you headed towards him, only for his eyes to widen. He questioned you sharply, asking how you were, why did you go in the rain, why did you not bring an umbrella, why did you come and not seek shelter?! 

What if you got sick?!

His voice, usually so cheerful and amiable, now panicked and distressed. Not even waiting for an answer, his hand frantically grabbed yours, rushing the both of you to his abode, where you were forced to take a shower and take some spare clothes. 

Lyney then questioned you again–only once you were safe and with a hot drink, of course–and when you replied that you wanted to see him, his heart strained and his eyes softened. 

Oh, what you do to this magician! Are you trying to melt him with your words?! 

You looked at him, and a very pink blush crept up onto his cheeks, leaving a burning sensation. How he managed to say anything, he still doesn’t know to this day. Maybe it was the adrenaline talking, because his voice came out breathy and uncertain.

“You scared me. I don’t want you to get sick; it pains me to see you in pain.”

His voice was quiet for once and more genuine than you’d ever heard before. 

You smiled at him in response, and he thinks that everything is okay. 

Ever since that day, Lyney’s sheltered a dream.

One day, he’ll lie with you under the sheets, and he’ll whisper the things he vows to do to make you happy. And when he whispers each and every thing he vows to do, he’ll kiss your shoulder, and then your cheek, and then your hands–twice for good measure–and then your lips, and he’ll shudder so softly because the feeling of your tender lips against his erupts mini-fireworks in his stomach. 

And then when you fall asleep, he’ll let his eyes scan the very person he’s willing to do anything for, and he’ll see the stars in your veins, and he’ll say to you in your sleep that even the number of stars in the sky can’t compare to the number of things he can love about you. 

Lyney may be a magician, but there's no tricks or misdirection in how pure his feelings are, much like a singular white dove.

To steer the conversation away from embarrassing moments, an idea strikes, and he ushers you towards a nearby stall on the street, one that gives off a slightly sweet scent. 

“A boba tea, please.” 

The vendor’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of Kamisato Ayato ordering a simple drink, and while with a supposed significant other?! Just know that the rumours will be spreading as soon as you leave the stall–not that they’ve not started already.

“Right away, sir.” 

You look at Ayato questionably. He already has a boba, so why would he need another one? Similarly to the vendor’s expression, your eyes also widen, although much more subtly than the person shyly peeking up to grab another glance at the esteemed Yashiro Commissioner. 

Without even having to look at you, Ayato chuckles again, but with something akin to fondness.

“You’ve guessed it. It’s for you. I would offer you mine–I don’t really like it anyway–but I doubt you’d want it with all my saliva.”

The white lie falls off his tongue as if he were actually telling the truth.

He turns to hand the vendor some cash, but before he can properly give it over, you grab his hand and shake your head. 

“It’s mine, right? So I should pay. I’ve paid for stuff in the past when we’ve been together; it doesn’t matter whether we’re on a date or not.”

He hesitates, then retracts his hand. He then smiles–one that lifts the corners of his eyes, and one that reveals the crinkles of his mouth.

“Of course. If that is your wish.”

You proceed to give the vendor some cash and take the boba from their hands. If only you were looking at Ayato instead.

“Your patronage is greatly appreciated!”

Walking away, Ayato dips his face towards your ear and whispers softly, his hot breath tickling your neck.

“Is this your first time?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“A secret for our next date.”

He winks. You can feel the blush spreading across your cheeks. Why did he have to be this attractive? To cool yourself down (and to avoid keeping eye contact), you decide to take a rather large gulp of the drink, which even Ayato is slightly concerned about.

“Don’t drink too violently. The pearls could get stuck in your throat, and I don’t think either of us would appreciate a surprise trip to the doctor’s on only our second date, hm?”

You nod absentmindedly, but then the flavour hits your tongue. And then your eyes light up in a way that makes your whole face glow. As you chew on the tapioca pearls, a smile grows on your face, which widens as time goes on. The soothing sensation! The mesh of textures! The subtle sweetness! What a delight to experience! 

All the while, Ayato’s now the one staring at you with widened eyes. The look on your face is nothing short of extraordinary. Something in his heart stirs. Seeing you this happy, he’s now certain of the fact that whatever you ask for will be granted if the smile that graces your features is one that he gets to experience. It’s somehow only now that he realises you really have him wrapped around your pretty little finger. His eyes crinkle. 

“You never fail to amaze me.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Please, carry on.”

–

It’s been a few months since that incident, and Ayato still recalls it fondly whenever he’s feeling down or for motivation to finish his work quicker so that he’s able to spend some much-needed quality time with you. He smiles softly, chuckling at the expression he so vividly remembers. The look on your face is so endearing that he wonders how lucky he must’ve been when his ‘hunch’ ended up being the source of one of his most cherished memories.  

“What’s so funny?”

Your question grounds him in reality as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you towards him. 

“How I’m looking forward to beating Thoma in our hotpot game today; the look on his face will truly be something… hehe.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can respond, said housekeeper walks in, carrying a tall drink of boba. You gasp a little, something only Ayato can hear, and he grins. However, said housekeeper also adds a message that makes his heart not-so-subtly skip a beat. 

“My lord, here’s your boba that you requested. It’s your favourite flavour too.”

Thoma then sends a greeting your way, which you reply to with a grin. A pause, and then Ayato hears what might possibly be the loudest laugh you’ve ever let out. 

“Good joke, Thoma! I even believed you for a second there. He even told me yesterday how much he disliked it. It’s quite sweet, actually. He always has one with him so that even if we’re not near a drinks vendor, I can still have one, even if he’s not expecting me to be there.”

Thoma awkwardly laughs along, sending questioning looks towards Ayato, to which he responds with a smile that contains little to no mirth at all. Through gritted teeth, Ayato also laughs, although it sounds much more like a bark than a proper chortle. 

“Darling, could you excuse Thoma and me for a quick moment? I promise we won’t be long.”

Poor Thoma. 

“Oh, sure. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Ayato strides deftly out of the room, with Thoma following behind. He also doesn’t want you to notice the faint heat that he feels spreading across his ears.

“My lord, what are you talking about? Everyone in the Kamisato Estate knows how much you like boba.”

Ayato sighs.

“Their happiness is the one thing I hold most dear to my heart. If that means sacrificing some… drink, albeit one that I also hold dear, then I would not hesitate to purge it from my diet. They make me do foolish things to my heart, and subsequently make me do foolish things in return.”

Thoma is left stunned, while Ayato swiftly dismisses him to go back inside. He does turn back, however, and gives him a smile that never means good things. 

“I’m looking forward to our hotpot today. Make sure to be sufficiently prepared.”

Poor Thoma. 

Ayato pads in quietly, his footsteps silent as a cat’s, but pauses. He lets his gaze linger on your satisfied expression, and his ears pick up a pleasant hum. How wonderful. How so, so wonderful you are. When the time comes, he guesses he’ll have to reveal the grand truth, but for now, he’s perfectly content basking in your happiness. 

What you do for love. 

“Well, since you’re not answering, I guess I’ll just find someone else to play with!” 

You harrumph, turning your head away. However, since you don’t make any move to physically get up, Alhaitham doesn’t look up from the slightly-yellowed pages that he hasn't noticed he's crinkling. 

But then, the unthinkable happens. Legs that were previously lounging beside him begin to unfold and rise, a shadow forming over his head. It takes him the time for you to fully stand up for him to comprehend what was happening. His crease deepens further. 

“Wait.”

On instinct, one of his hands that was holding onto his book clasps onto yours, his head bowed down. His fringe hides his face, which, for once–however annoying it may be–he’s grateful for, as it means you can’t see the blush readily spreading across his cheeks. Pretending to be more interested in dragon fights and swordsmanship, he all but whispers. 

“Stay. I like it better when you’re here.”

Your eyes lighten up, and a large smile breaks out across your face. 

“I like it when you’re with me too! And I wasn’t actually gonna leave you. I just wanted to get us some sweets!” 

“Oh.”

If he wasn’t already thankful for his fringe, he definitely is now, what with the embarrassment he’s being forced to endure. You can still probably see his ears, which he can feel burning up. Not replying, he lets go of your hand–almost abruptly–and lets you skip away to the local sweets vendor that always exudes a sugary smell. 

He watches you all the way. The sun’s shining brightly on your skin, making it glow. Your toothy grin still pervades his mind, and he can feel the blush on his cheeks that never seems to go away whenever you’re around. Or maybe that’s the heat. But then why is his heart doing backflips? And why do those backflips increase in speed when he looks down at the hand that was held in yours? He thinks that they fit perfectly, like two pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, and (as much as he doesn’t want to admit it) that he wants you to be around him. 

“Stupid thoughts. I only tolerate them because they’re my only friend.”

He chooses to ignore the other thought that his heart seems to tell. 

“They’re my only friend. But I don’t mind, because I really only care about them.”

After a few minutes, you come back with that same toothy grin, carrying an assortment of sweet treats for the both of you to devour in only a few seconds. They all blend together into a saccharine scent. 

“Look, try this one, Haitham! The person said it was a new flavour!”

He accepts it immediately, taking it gently from your hand and putting it into his mouth. It explodes with flavour–nutty and aromatic, nothing like the sugary syrup of the others. A small and satisfied smile creeps onto his face, his eyes failing to hide his delight. It does get stuck, however, as he tries to get parts of it dislodged from the gaps in his teeth. A giggle interrupts him.

“Haitham, you look really funny! Y’know, I want to have a sweet shop when we’re grown up so that I can make all the sweets you want! Then we can have fun together even when we have to do grown-up, boring stuff.”

You remember to be considerate, and turn to him.

“What about you, Haitham? What do you wanna be when you’re grown up?”

–

Alhaitham doesn’t remember exactly what he said after. Probably a scholar. All he can remember is younger him staring blatantly, mouth gaping open at your questioning eyes, and his heart pounding at your mention of ‘we’. The realisation that you felt the same way as him left him astounded. In that moment, he felt something bloom in his chest, something that he’s carried all these years. 

Although he’s not sure whether you ever fully understood how much of a soft spot he had for you. You never even noticed how his headphones were always on the ground, rather than on his head, whenever you were around. 

Now, reading his book peacefully, he looks down at his lap and allows himself to smile. You’re going to wake up with a sore neck if he keeps you in this position for much longer, but just for a moment, he wants to admire you. 

Alhaitham strokes your hair tenderly, moving it out of your face, nimble fingers caressing your jawline. His eyes soften. How much you’ve meant to him. The years that he’s known you for don’t compare to the amount of gazes he’s thrown your way, so full of youthful longing and yearning. Because ever since you said ‘we’, he’s been able to answer your question. Maybe not in the exact same way he did all those years ago, but an answer that’s been stewing for every year after. 

“When I grow up, I want to be by your side.”

however, he especially loves playing co-op games that he can play with you

take for example: overcooked or stardew valley

overcooked’s considered a very rage-y game, but heizou really can’t get enough of your face when you’re so intently focused on chopping up virtual lettuces, he’s melted on the inside more than once, caught with a dopey smile on his face

and when you take the lead and tell him what to do, heizou’s more than happy to comply! just listening to your voice is more than enough for him :D

on the other side of the spectrum, stardew valley’s definitely more of a relaxed game, and it’s the perfect thing for a lazy sunday afternoon, when the both of you are free from stress 

heizou won’t admit it, but he sometimes gets jealous of the npcs that the players are able to romance (you’d never cheat on him, though- even with fictional characters)

he gets all pouty and whiny when he sees you smiling at your screen when talking to a certain npc

“babeeeee, can we go out now?”

“we went out literally this morning, though?”

“and I want to go out this afternoon, too!”

shoots a dirty look at the character once you’re getting your things, and deletes the tab open on your screen so he doesn’t have to see them :)

but when you’re playing together, it’s a whole other story

“Heizou, I‘m telling you, don’t waste your resources on stuff that you don’t need!”

You know he can hear you through the walls, yet he doesn't respond, and chooses to carry on his merry way throughout town. You sigh, but it’s nothing you’re not used to at this point. He’s constantly been collecting and farming materials just to use them for the most basic of things. He doesn’t even sell them; he just stockpiles them until he’s forced by a certain someone to do so! (Namely- you.)

On your screen, you can see both your sprites walking together at a moderate pace, his character following yours around incessantly, even when doing the most mundane of tasks. You can also hear his voice in your ears, thanks to the wonders of FaceTime, even though he’s currently sitting in a room conjoined to yours by a single, thin wall. You stop, and he stops. You take a right; he takes a right. You turn around to face him; his sprite gives you a little kiss on the lips. Forward and back. 

It’s rather endearing, actually, especially when you can hear his laugh in your ears, and see the sparkle in his eyes when he does so. When you give him a kiss back, well. He immediately goes quiet, breath taken away from your act of affection (even if it is only virtual), and on FaceTime, you see him get up from his chair. You then hear the pitter-patter of his footsteps as your door slams open wide and he runs over to give you a very-real-not-very-virtual kiss on the lips. With a jubilant expression on his face, he smothers you in them, until your sides are aching from laughing too much. 

“All this from a virtual kiss, Heizou?”

“Not virtual to me, babe. After all, my instincts told me that I was going to be surprised with a real one soon after.”

“You-“ You wheeze, gasping for air. “You were the one who kissed me!”

He doesn’t offer a reply, only grinning at you with a strangely fond look in his eyes, his smile growing softer by the second. Getting up from your chair (how did he end up there, anyway?), he gives you one last kiss on your forehead- lingering for a few moments-, and walks right out of your room back into his, his figure appearing once again on your phone. 

What’s on your screen is much different, though. A brown box containing a message lies awaiting for your response. 

“Heizou requests to marry you. Accept?”

As the realisation dawns on you, Heizou’s staring intently at your pixelated face, blush adorning his cheeky smile. You never truly realised why he had been farming so much recently. 

Getting up abruptly, you run to his room while slamming his door open, and give him a kiss. Sparkles adorn your eyes, and he swears his heart’s never raced this fast in a long time. Heizou grins, the moles under both his eyes raising upwards. 

“What did I tell you? My instincts never fail me.”

kazuha

often plays peaceful games- lots of sandboxes especially

kazuha’s got a very creative soul, and that branches out into the various designs and builds he manages to make in every single game he plays

it doesn’t matter if if the game’s got less than average graphics, he’s managing to create an absolutely picturesque, pinterest-esque house for the both of you to reside in <3

how he does it? he’d never tell you (he searches up tutorials on youtube in his free time and dedicates like five hours on creating the perfect build catered especially to your tastes)

animal crossing is a particular fav of his- the overall aesthetic of the franchise fits him like a glove

every time you join him in animal crossing co-op, he’s following you around like a little duckling

if you show off your island, he’s oohing and ahhing like his life depends on those phrases, subtly ignoring his own builds 

sends postcards in animal crossing, too, you’ve built up quite a large supply of them- ranging from simple greetings to declarations of love

kazuha can’t resist professing his adoration for your cute face!

“my love, remember to drink water ^^”, or “i love you, and will love you, eternally. p.s. i’m giving you all my bells next time i see you, you deserve it <3”, or “looking forward to our date tomorrow, i know an angel can’t compare to you.”

(kazuha’s love language is complimenting you to the high heavens)

however, for all his flowery language and calming nature, he’s surprisingly competitive- mario kart being the main reason of bringing his competitiveness out

he’s a little less harsh on you, and even lets you win occasionally (not without coming second, though)

the triumphant smile on your face is too cute for him resist, he has to let you win at least some times

but, sometimes is only sometimes, and most of the time, he’s taking the wins left, right, and centre

he has a devious smirk on his face while he’s pummeling you into dust- but when he turns to you beside him, he’s all smiley and innocent

“what’s wrong, my love? would you like me to recite one of my recent haikus for you? :)”

and you’re looking at him with disbelief written all over your face

but- if someone else dares to overlap you on rainbow road- or hit you with a shell in moo moo meadows, he’s unleashing the beast 👹👹👹

every single time he gets a shell, he’s aiming at them, every single time he gets the chance to slow them down or make them look like a fool, he’s taking it

does this while also making sure that you’re far ahead of them- due to your wonderful drifting capabilities and his tormentous destructive capabilities

in conclusion, you do not want kazuha to be your enemy in mario kart unless you want to rage quit on the first lap

the only exception to this is when you make him your enemy- then he’s the one panicking

“Have I told you how amazing you are, love?”

Kazuha musters the sweetest smile he can, eyes turning into half-moon crescents. To an inexperienced eye, it may seem like he was merely complimenting you; but to an experienced one- (i.e. yourself) you knew that he was scared. You’re right, of course. He’s desperately willing his hands not to seem like they’re shaking while holding the controller, and there’s a dark feeling in his gut that sounds like trouble for him.

Sure, maybe he did lap you, and sure, maybe he did let out a gentle laugh when he did, but is that harsh glare really necessary? He’s your lover, after all. Aren’t lovers supposed to get special treatment? He’s not one of those people that hits you with a shell and then overtakes you twi- oh. Kazuha lets out a nervous laugh. Usually so calm and composed, he’s now sweating bullets. 

“Love, I can get you some takeout if you want it? I heard the new place down the road sells exquisite food for cheap…”

You turn your back from him, still playing the game in a dreadful 12th place, while his side of the screen’s displaying a gold ‘1st’. It’s your favourite map too. He pouts at this, eyes shining with hurt, but there’s a part of him that still coos and swoons over how cute you look, focused utterly on the game. 

Once you finally finish (Kazuha suspects you prolonged it), he holds your shoulders to stop you from escaping and tilts your head up to look at him.

“I love it when it rains, but now I see a storm within you, and I want nothing more than to make it go away to reveal a sunny sky. I’m sorry for hitting you with a shell and overtaking you in Mario Kart, which some would say is considered a skill issue, but is there any way you could forgive me?”

He seems a bit too sincere for the plea to be meant in a jokey manner, and maybe he’s just a bit worried that you may actually be angry at him. The fact hits him when he finds himself already coming up with a list in his head about your favourite foods, and items that he’s caught you looking at more than once. 

However, you try to stifle a smile at his mention of your ‘skill issue’, but he sees it, and- Kazuha definitely does not want to admit this- his heart feels a little bit lighter than before. He wasn’t worried about your relationship because of a simple video game, was he? (Yes, he really was.) Relief floods his features, as he hugs you tight to his chest, kissing the crown of your head. 

An increase in volume of the music interrupts your moment together, making you jump. You glare at the screen and rush to turn it off. Kazuha laughs in that soft way you love; his eyes widen, and his hand comes up to cover his mouth. Too late. You’ve already heard it, and you’re already glaring at him again.

“I didn’t mean it, love, I swear-“

“You’d better have that takeout in ten minutes.”

Kazuha tries to contain his fond smile.

—

Kaeya hurries back to your shared home. He’s been looking forward to this, the thought of holding you in your arms and being able to kiss your delightful mouth is enough motivation for him to be tying up any loose ends his (interrogations) job may bring and finishing up the stacks of paperwork his other colleagues have piled up out of laziness. Honestly, some people these days have no moral integrity!

Unlocking the door, and walking in, he immediately notices how quiet it is. That’s strange, considering how he can usually find you either in the kitchen, preparing some form of dinner whenever he comes back home late, or in the hallway right in front of him, welcoming him back home instead. There’s no one in either of those rooms, and when he calls out your name and no one calls back, he begins to get worried. He can’t lose you, not ever, so when a fresh wave of panic tries to take over, he tries his hardest to stay calm and think about things logically. The next thing to do would be to check upstairs. He’s bounding up them, two at a time, his strides revealing how much he’s actually worrying about your welfare, but he doesn’t even reach the top when he hears your cries. 

Not even caring anymore, he bursts inside your bedroom to find you curled up on your bed, body wracking with tears, shaking periodically. A myriad of emotions swirl through him. Anger, at whoever made you feel like this- he stores a mental note to free up some time later that week- relief- well, at least you aren’t missing or gone, but most of all, sorrow. Sorrow at your sorry state, sorrow at the fact you feel like this, sorrow that echoes deep in his bones; a sorrow that makes his heart twinge in uncomfortable ways. He walks over to the bed, and lies next to you, facing your body. 

Gently wrapping his arms around you, he whispers sweet nothings as you cry into his chest, each one making his eyes soften, and grip tighten.

“Please tell me what’s troubling you. I can’t have my darling all wound up, can I? It’s my duty as a knight to make sure all the citizens of Mondstadt are happy and healthy, wouldn’t you say?”

You don’t respond to his questions, like he thought you would anyway, so he changes tact.

“Darling, I beg. I don’t like seeing you upset, and know I’ll deal with anyone who tries to harm you, so please tell me what’s wrong. Whatever you say, I’ll make it right, you don’t have to lift a single finger, I promise.”

You sniffle a bit at this, tears coming slower, and you can feel his warm stare on your head, hands stroking your waist in a way that’s always made you feel relaxed. Or maybe that’s just his arms. Voice cracking up from all the crying, you respond, albeit with a wobble.

“I-I just haven’t done enough, Kaeya. I haven’t done enough!”

Bursting into a fresh set of tears, you wail into his chest once more, and once more, Kaeya shushes you. He kisses the top of your head, one that he hopes conveys his patience for you, and your words. He lets it linger for a couple of seconds before speaking again.

“To me, you’ve always been enough. Why else would you have stolen my heart, and why else would I have allowed it to happen?”

“But, you’ve just done so much and I’ve done so little!”

Kaeya frowns. He now knows what the problem is, but he feels clueless as to how you could ever feel this way. To him, you’ve done so much both for the people of Mondstadt and himself, helping out whenever you can, and always with a smile on your face.

“I’m going to stop you there, darling. Know that nobody thinks lowly of you. I may be the Cavalry Captain, but I have no horses; you may be my partner, but you are also a person. You may not see this, but everyone else can. You have done, and helped so many people that they come up to me- even when I’m out in the tavern- to talk about how you had helped them that same day. Apart from seeing your face, those little conversations are the highlight of my night, and they should be yours, too. So don’t worry, darling, from now on, I’ll tell you those messages and we’ll see how truly significant you actually are. I love you, wholly, and I never want you to feel like that ever again.”

His arms tighten around your waist as he presses a lingering kiss on your head. You squeeze back with the pressure of a feather, and a soft smile breaks through his face. 

diluc– noctua

There are many ways you can say the name Diluc Ragnvindr. The Darkight Hero, saving grace of Mondstadt, free from the shackles of the Knights of Favonius, or perhaps, Master of the Dawn Winery, filthy rich, yet hard-working, producing possibly the best wine in the whole of Teyvat. No matter what name people utter, it always comes along with bucket loads of respect and admiration, constantly failing to hide the fact that they hold him in extremely high regard, much higher than what you could ever hope for. People speak of his courage, perseverance, and determination (well, maybe apart from Kaeya) when all they say to you is to ask how Diluc is. 

It’s frustrating, no- it’s angering and belittling, and it’s as if you don’t have anything to stand for other than being his partner! He gets all of this respect and you just have to stand by his side! It’s as if they don’t even see you as a person with achievements, which- well, what have you done that’s worthy of praise? Nothing, you guess, maybe becoming Diluc’s partner was the peak of your life; it’s only going to go downhill from here, you’ve done nothing good, you’ve done nothing worthy; maybe you don’t deserve him at all. And- oh there the tears come, hot and salty, droplets dripping down your face. 

–

There are many ways Diluc says your name. He says it gently, with hushed undertones and comforting hugs; he says it passionately, with longing in his eyes and a bold thump in his heart. But most of all, he says it so full of love, as if you had hung all the stars in the sky, full of unending, fulfilling, admiring adoration. Whenever your name leaves his mouth, people can’t help but stop and stare; it’s just so obvious how much the Master of the Dawn Winery cares for his special someone. Whenever your name leaves his mouth, there’s an ever-present look in his eye, one that reveals everything he feels about you, a look that proclaims out his devotion. 

So when Diluc finds you- alone, sobbing violently into your pillows- he doesn’t hesitate to place you on his lap, arms cradling your fragile figure, as he utters your name again. He says it again and again, stroking your hair softly, waiting patiently (as if he wouldn’t wait an eternity) while he lets you cry into his shoulder, eyebrows slightly furrowing at the sight of seeing you so upset to get to a point like this. It’s not fair, he thinks, for you to feel like this when you deserve nothing but the opposite, and- he shouldn’t blame himself for this- but what if it has to do with him? You know he’s busy, and he knows he’s busy, but what if you’re feeling as if he doesn’t love you anymore?

Oh, what a lie, as if he could never love you, what a lie, as if he could never look forward to seeing you, as if he could never touch and kiss you as if it were his last. Those people weren’t lying when they said that he was truly in deep, too deep to ever get out of the hole he had dug for himself. Diluc doesn’t mind, though, if he’s in there with you, he would stay like that forever. 

This doesn’t fix the situation at hand, however, and as much as Diluc would like to be able to fix all of your problems, the world doesn’t work like that, and so the next best thing is to help you try and feel better.

You’re still crying, and with every sob that you let out, a piece of his heart seemingly shatters into the void, and he thinks the only way to repair it would be to see your smile again. However, you’ve changed positions to where you’re both hugging each other. You on his lap, arms around his shoulders, and his arms around your waist, sporadically kissing your cheek every once in a while. He sighs, though not at you- never at you, eyes heavy with sadness at your state, and whispers gentle words, cradling your head with his hand.

“Look at me, darling. I love you eternally. I love you with my whole heart, and I can’t even fathom how much it beats for you. I do not know why you’re crying so, but I hate it. You do not deserve whatever this is you are feeling, and I know you as much as I know the back of my own hand. To me, you are the greatest person I have ever known. You have the ability to make me feel things I didn’t know I could, and you made me love, the most important thing of all. I have slain and destroyed, but at what cost? You have healed, and perhaps that is what I love about you so. So please do not cry, darling. You have done so much for me, and you have done so much for others. I know that much, so please, can I see you smile again?

You gaze up at him, eyes widening, as they fill up with tears once more. But not sad tears this time, happy ones instead. You kiss him, salty and passionate and thankful. It’s rather amazing how he manages to find the exact words to comfort you. 

Diluc may be considered stoic, and quiet to most, but for you, he’d recite the longest scripture he could just to wipe your tears away. 

thoma- rubeum scutum

The past few days for Thoma have been particularly busy. Both the Kamisato siblings required some type of assistance that had needed to be by their side for an extended amount of time, often just accompanying them with daily tasks around Inazuma that they may need to be called to. He doesn’t mind though, because at the end of each day, even though he may arrive late, even though he may find you asleep on the couch once he finally arrives back home, he gets to see your face, and gets to carry you gently off to bed, pressing some kisses to your forehead as he does so. 

However, what Thoma doesn’t get to see, is the constant emotion of insignificance you feel next to him. You’re truly proud of him, you really are, and you’re glad he’s so busy and looked after all the time, but sometimes you wish that you could feel that way too. Sometimes you wished that you could receive the same workload as him- just to be able to say that your superiors trust you to be able to deal with larger things, like him. But you don’t and now you feel useless. Especially now, since he’s been kept working late for the Kamisato Clan, you’ve been chased by negativity for the days that he’s arrived late home, and it’s catching up to you.

It’s suffocating, you just want to be recognised by someone, for someone to be proud of you and to be able to say that they respect and admire your ethics and hardworking nature. But instead, you do mundane tasks everyday, get home, wait for Thoma, then go to sleep. You want something more; you yearn for some sort of sign in your life that you’ve achieved something, that you’ve created meaning for someone else. You just feel so tired of it all, you just want to go to sleep.

Staring at the wall blankly, you don’t even notice Thoma creeping in with a smile on his face, only to be replaced by a concerned frown. It’s the end of his gruelling week of assisting and accompanying, and there’s nothing more he wants than to be able to lay in bed with you, the one he loves with all his heart. He even prepared a cake for you to share, your favourite flavour! But when he sees you, devoid of emotion, a grim expression on your face unlike your usual self, he doesn’t hesitate to place the cake aside- all but forgotten- and rush over to where you’re sitting. 

“Baby…?” 

He whispers, almost scared to raise his voice, as if he would upset you even further. When you don’t respond, he gently raises you up to your feet, so tenderly, you know he’s done this before. He tilts your head up to look at him, and he gets scared. He gets scared at the empty look on your face, and he musters up all the love he can get (which- to be frank- is a lot) to smile at you. Even though he’s scared, the eyes are the window to the soul, and his truly reveal how much he cares for you. He searches for feeling in yours, and when he spots just a glimmer, he leans down to give you a gentle peck on the lips. 

“Do you want to tell me what’s troubling you? I’ll do my very best to sort it out, you know I’d do anything for you.”

Comforted by the sound of his voice and affirmations, you regain some feeling in your body, and you feel less exhausted. 

“Sorry, Thoma. I just- I’m not feeling too good.”

“Oh, would you like anything then? I have a really good soup recipe that I can make for you, just get some rest, and it’ll be ready in just a few minutes! I would prefer for you to feel better sooner rather than later.”

You sigh. 

“No. That’s not what I meant. I mean- well- you’ve just been so busy and I’ve been… here, doing nothing. You’ve done so much already, and I haven’t done anything at all, I just want to feel as if I’ve done something… significant like you, that’s all.”

Tears start pooling at the corners of your eyes, and Thoma hurries to wipe them away with his hands. His heart clenches at your confession, worry evident in his eyes. If only you knew how much you mean to him, how much he thinks that you’re the significant one in the grand scheme of things, and how much he values your existence. 

“No, don’t say that kind of stuff, it hurts. You know I love you so, so, so much and that I think you’ve done so much- too much- that I can’t possibly repay you. You don’t know how much you’ve impacted my life, and that I’m so grateful you came into it. I think others would agree too. I look forward to seeing you every day, y’know? You’re the highlight every single time, so don’t think of yourself as worthless, or insignificant, because I think if you weren’t here, my heart would have a massive gap right down the middle! I love you so much, baby, and it pains me to see you hurt like this, but I want you to believe that compared to me, you’re the one who shines bright. You’re the star here, not me.”

He pauses when you don’t respond. Maybe you need some time for yourself, sometimes that’s just the case. 

“I’ll make the soup now, okay? I love you.”

Turning around to head out, a pair of arms from behind him encase his waist. 

He laughs, turning around again to face you. Stroking your hair gently, he presses a kiss to your forehead, and wonders whether you can tell how much he truly loves you. How much he would do for you, and sacrifice for you. Thoma mutters a quiet ‘thank you’, and you look up at him, confused, tears still in your eyes. 

“Surely I should be the thankful one, Thoma? Thank you, though.”

Your voice goes quiet at the last part. 

He smiles softly, eyes drooping ever so slightly in admiration, in patience and in understanding. 

“My pleasure.”

Well, that’s settled it, then. He’s going to give you a massage whether you like it or not. The telling signs of your muscle fatigue and the dark circles under your eyes inform him that you’re in desperate need of some good, old TLC, and what better way for you than for him to give you a special massage, courtesy of his never-ending love. He does want your smile back, after all. 

“Darling, sit down, and get comfy, hmm? Turn around so your back’s facing my chest.”

His velvety voice invades your senses, and- too tired to care- you oblige, shuffling around so that he’s able to properly reach your shoulders. His eyes widen when he sees the obvious hunch of your back, and he resolves to fix it much sooner than later. 

“Kaeya, what are you doing?”

You say to him, sleepily, stretching your arms out once again. He can hear them click once again, too. 

“I’m giving you a massage. No offence, darling, but I think you need it.”

Sighing, you mutter a few words back at him, so quietly that he can’t hear them, but takes it as confirmation for him to continue. He hums under his breath, gently placing two hands on your covered shoulders, making sure to cover the most surface area while still managing to maintain a firm grip. 

“Tell me if this hurts, and I’ll be less harsh.”

You nod, and he gets to work. 

It’s surprising how delicate yet steady Kaeya manages to be. Most people would’ve assumed that he handles things harshly, through no fault of his own; but through all of the battles and fights he’s had to endure. Instead, his hands knead the knots out of your muscles perfectly, and the steady rhythm of going around in circles and rolling the skin of your shoulders helps you melt further into his arms. They caress and tug, coaxing out the stress and fatigue that’s been building up, not entirely unlike his own personality. His hands hit every pressure point they can, and soon enough you’re falling into a light slumber, the soft hums of his voice pervading the air surrounding the both of you. Before you fully drift off to sleep, you hear him chuckle. 

“My, my, am I really making you feel that good?”

Blushing at his insinuation, you try to feign sleep, but one thing you may have ignored was that you should never forget how much this man knows your quirks and habits like the back of his hand. 

“Darling, I know you’re still awake. But, I guess I can play along for now. Your shoulders have loosened up quite a bit, all thanks to my handiwork. You can thank me later.”

He presses a sweet kiss on your forehead, scooping you up ever-so-gently, and silently pads over to your bedroom, placing you down onto the soft mattress. Covering you up with some blankets, he’s noticed that you’ve actually managed to fall asleep properly by now, and he delights in the fact that he’s able to take some time to admire you. 

He much prefers your peaceful, calm look, with no crease in your eyebrows, and no frown that he so hates. Cupping your sleeping face with one hand, he dons a particularly adoring expression.

“I hope you feel better. All for you, of course.”

thoma— rubeum scutum  ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Humming a merry tune, Thoma whistles cheerily, eagerly awaiting your arrival from work. He’s been cooking a variety of dishes, each one distinctly picked out to suit your tastes. The smell of food wafts outside, and the apron he’s wearing has been stained with various greases and condiments, which he knows you’ll scold him for. Hopefully, the food will win you over, but some kisses might work as well. He sighs dreamily. Just thinking of having a nice homemade dinner with you has his heart fluttering, the utter domesticity of being able to cherish and spoil you being too much for him to handle.

When he hears the door open, he perks up, eyes shining as he tries his very best not to run straight over to where he knows you’ll be, taking your coat off and hanging it on the rack he managed to buy at half price. He finally reaches the entrance and, a smile reaching his eyes, leans in to hug you, only for you to head straight to the kitchen, leaving him- for lack of better words- utterly gobsmacked. His mouth gapes open, thoughts only of you in his mind. Your usual routine is to hug him, then kiss him, then he’ll ask for some more and you’ll laugh it off, saying that you were hungry and wanted to have some food, maybe giving him a small peck out of pity. What happened today? Did you receive bad news? Has he- no- are you mad at him?

Racing towards the kitchen, not even caring that he’s running on freshly polished flooring, he finds you sitting down, a large sigh coming out from your mouth once you’re seated on a chair. You close your eyes, enjoying the relief that it gives you, when a plate of hot steaming food is placed in front of you. Thoma’s eyes are the first thing you see, overflowing with concern, and- are those tears? His hesitant voice calls out to you, gentle and careful. 

“Baby, are you mad at me? Because if you are, then I’m really sorry for what I did, but could you at least tell me what I did? I love you so much, I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

A sad smile etched onto his features, he takes the seat opposite you and begins eating his food dejectedly. You- too stunned to even reply- battle with your thoughts. On one hand, the only thing you want right now is to be doted on by your lover; but on the other, you don’t want to bother him even more; he’s already gone to all this trouble just for you. Your gaze softens.

“No, Thoma, it’s fine, you haven’t done anything wrong, I love you too.”

The concern doesn’t leave his eyes, however. 

“Are you sure? What’s wrong then? Are you tired? I don’t mind going to bed early, but please eat first!”

It’s almost comical how much he cares for you. You would laugh, but he’s hit the nail on the head; really all you wish for is to be doted on by him, being an extremely tiring day at work. A sigh leaves your mouth, making his frown even larger. You’ve made your decision, and there's no time like the present.

“Today’s been really tiring, Thoma, do you think we could take a bath together?”

His frown immediately disappears, morphing into a soft smile, immediately getting what you were hinting at. 

“Of course, baby. I’ll set it right now, finish your food first, though.”

You smile back, allowing him to see the fatigue in your eyes. 

“Thanks, Thoma.”

“Anything for you.”

—

When the food’s been gobbled up (it was suited to your tastes, after all), you and Thoma head to the bath to relax. He holds your hand the entire way, down to when you settle comfortably, back pressed against his chest. His arms cradle your waist, hands absentmindedly stroking your stomach, as you let the warm water relax your muscles. You can hear him humming, his chest rumbling against your back as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“Love you so much, baby.”

His nose brushes your cheek as he whispers those words, one hand of his reaching up for a bottle of shampoo. Ever so gently, he lathers your hair with it, hands massaging the roots of your hair. He scratches at the best parts, making sure never to be too harsh, as bubbles start to build up, leaving you oh-so-relaxed. You can feel him press tender kisses along your shoulder, lips grazing your skin in such a loving way that makes your heart beat just a bit faster. Once your hair’s been sufficiently massaged, he takes the showerhead, and rinses all the suds off, making sure to wipe away all the water that comes into contact with your eyes. He murmurs words in your ear, each as caring and tender as the hands that look after his lover.

“You’re so pretty, y’know that?”

With the water cascading down your back, and your lover’s hands carding through your hair, you would feel content staying in the warmth forever.

The soft smile- so full of love- that Thoma gives you, agrees. 

childe— monoceros caeli  ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

After a day of working (fighting), there’s nothing more that Childe wants than to lie with you, see your face, and he can go to sleep happy. However, when he enters your shared home, he’s greeted with the sight of you all bundled up in a blanket, seemingly staring into a vacant space. 

His first reaction is to coo at how adorable you look, immediately having to resist the urge to tackle and smother you in kisses. His second reaction is to be concerned; no matter how cute you look, he does seem to notice that the expression on your face is slightly off, not like usual. Childe prides himself on being surprisingly observant, but maybe you would expect that based on his Harbinger status. And, if it were to concern you, he pays just a bit more attention than usual. 

His final reaction is anger. Whoever- or whatever- made you like this will pay the price. Usually with their life, but you’ve been trying to teach him not to resort to violence every time he sees you upset. Maybe he’s a bit overdramatic, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

He still feels the itch of his fingers, waiting for a weapon to hold and use to maim; he still sees the usual red in his eyes whenever he catches you off guard, upset. But for now, he’ll have to settle for the clenched fists by his side, as the main problem here is to figure out how to make you feel better. He doesn’t like the distant look in your eyes, usually so bright and carefree, the numbness he’s observing in your body should be carried by him instead. 

Gently padding over to where you’re sat, he holds you tenderly and places you on his lap. Arms wrap around your waist as his head leans to rest on your shoulder. Mustering the best possible smile he can, he turns to face you with an inexplicably cheery tone of voice.

“What’s wrong, darling? If it’s someone, I can get rid of them, no problem! Anything for you, always.”

You mumble back, eyes slightly drooping.

“It’s nothing, Childe. Just a bit tired is all.”

His fists still haven’t unclenched themselves. Childe doesn’t believe you, not one bit, as he presses a quick kiss to your cheek. 

“You sure? I could do with a bit of practice… my aim’s getting rusty. Plus, it’s for you, so it’s no bother!”

Glancing at him ever so carefully, you hesitate. Truth is, you’re exhausted. All you want to do now is lie in bed forever and not come out, basking in the comfort of its warmth. Childe is an added bonus, but gratefully accepted nonetheless. However, you don’t want to burden him; you can see the faint eye bags he’s been trying to hide, and you notice the fatigue in his muscles when he cooks your meals for dinner. 

“Darling? Say something, at least.”

You sigh. The earnest look on his face is too much for you to handle; it reminds you of a loyal soldier too faithful for their own good. Well, that is what his job is, essentially. 

“Can we lie in bed together? I just want to be with you.”

He visibly perks up. The grin on his face widens, and you can see his eyes sparkle- no, not even metaphorically- you swear they actually sparkle. A blush forms on his cheeks, and he laughs like someone so in love that it makes a small smile on your face appear as well. He buries his head into your neck, hands unclenching to stroke your waist.

“You’re so cute! I just want to hold you in my arms forever!”

He does check on you as an afterthought, though. He’s not a totally bad partner.

“You sure you’re okay, though?”

“Yes, Childe. Better now you’re here.”

–

You can feel Childe’s arms wrapped tightly against your waist, his legs intertwined with yours, your head on his chest. You can also feel the soft thump of his heartbeat and it’s funny how even when you just look at him, it speeds up. You point it out to him and he pouts.

“Not fair that you’re so cute!”

Every so often (more like every other moment he gets the chance to) he presses a series of kisses to your face, one on your forehead, one on your cheek, one on your jaw, and one on your lips. They’re also particularly sloppy, but you can excuse that, for him. 

You don’t know how much time has passed, but you’re feeling a lot better, a lot less tired, and as loved as ever. He lets out a contented sigh.

“Love you.”

“Love you too, Childe. Could you get me some water, though? My throat’s feeling a bit dry.”

He immediately jumps out of bed, scrambling to the kitchen to get you a glass of water. You can hear the shouts of his voice as he runs off, energy at an all-time high.

“I’ve got it! Stay in bed and relax, baby! I’ll be right back!”

You giggle to yourself. He certainly takes the message, ‘love and look after’ extremely seriously.

a/n: tysm for reading until the end ❤️ likes, reblogs and comments are always, always appreciated!

—

The first thing you take him to is an arcade. Bright, flashing, blinding lights take over his senses, as his eyes try to adjust to the neon colours. You turn to him with a grin, just as blinding as the fluorescent lighting, but maybe something he cherishes just a bit more. He smiles back, amused, as he lets you drag him off to a multitude of slot machines and arcade mini-games. You groan in despair when you fail to get him a plushie (those damn scams!), but cheer in glee when he manages to win a pair of matching keyrings. On the first try too.

He’s dragged away to every single station that catches your eye, tickets building up and up. You’ve probably spent a fair few coins- he can feel the hole forming in his wallet- but who is he to complain? The joy in your eyes is infectious, and he can’t help but sneak a few photos without you noticing. (He secretly saves one of them as his lock screen.) Your feet eventually tire, however, and when Zhongli sees a faint sheen of sweat across your forehead, you go up to the counter (note. he forces you to stop and go up to the counter) and buy possibly the biggest plushie he’s ever seen. Handing it to him, the fluorescent lights surround your silhouette, and he doesn’t think that he’s ever seen such a beautiful sight before. He takes the plushie, wraps an arm around your waist, and gives you a forehead kiss, one that he hopes conveys his gratitude as much as it can. When you walk outside, the brisk air hits his face, but he doesn’t think his heart has felt this light in ages.

Your next destination is a restaurant you know he’s been looking at for ages. It’s around dusk, almost dark outside, and the sunset is a breathtaking view. While you’re walking, trying to get your GPS working, his hand clasps yours, and you hear the mutters of “what a mesmerising sight”, but don’t acknowledge it, too focused on the map on your phone. You don’t know, he’s been looking at you the whole time.

After a few minutes of walking and idle chatter, you finally arrive, and Zhongli’s hit with the smell of soup. Specifically, bamboo shoot soup. His grip on your hand tightens, and you’re shown a dazzling smile, accompanied by eyes brimming with adoration. He looks like home.

“Thank you, dearest.”

Pressing another lingering kiss to your forehead, he almost all but whispers these words. He almost all but longs to shout out his devotion towards you instead, but that would be improper of him. Perhaps for another day. Plus, you can see the faint red on his ears, and the grip on your hand says all you need to hear.

—

Dishes come and go, each one as delicious as the last, and the both of you happily converse, the restaurant atmosphere bustling and cosy. All sorts of conversation rocks in between different plates, his gaze never leaving yours. He can’t help but stare; how could he not? When you’re talking like this, and when you’re looking at him like this, his eyes can’t help but fill with adoration, a content smile long since firmly plastered on his face.

When both your stomachs are full, and the rosy glow of the restaurant begins to dim, you take his hand. It’s begun to snow, gentle snowflakes dusting the top of your heads, and the path towards your final destination has turned into a wasteland of crunchy, packed white powder. Nevertheless, your hand is encased in his, and it looks like he’s feeling warm enough, cheeks blushing a very cheery pink.

A few minutes later, you’ve arrived at a park, lamplights being the only thing guiding your way. Being late at night, it’s practically empty, the only sounds being the faint thrums of a car exhaust, and the faraway yowls of cats making their way through the empty streets. You recheck your phone to ensure it’s not yet turned midnight. It hasn’t.

Leading Zhongli to a bench, right under a lamplight, you lean your head on his shoulder. He laughs in response, deep rumbles accompanying some strokes to your hair. It’s still snowing; you can see the faint white on his dark eyelashes, and he’s stroking your hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Did you like today?”

He turns to face you, eyes gleaming, smile growing.

“I loved it. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

You sigh in satisfaction and snuggle even further into his shoulder. There’s a distant chime of a clock, twelve strikes in total. You look at him.

“Happy New Year, Zhongli.”

He doesn’t say anything in response; only by lifting your chin with a delicate hand, can you see the utter devotion he holds for you. It’s amazing, actually. Your noses are almost touching; you’re so close that you can see your reflection in his pupils.

“Another year with you by my side, I couldn’t ask for anything more. Happy New Year, dearest.”

Zhongli leans in, your lips touch. Fireworks go off in the distance.