aether is telling you about his newest expedition in nod krai, mentioning things like columbina, and how much paimon loved their food. his new friends, new enemies, and a clue to his next journey... it was both breathtaking and hitching all at once and-
"and... oh, well you know how they are i- mmh!" it was already too late when your lips were on his, aether's eyes widen before easing into you.
he hadn't even realized it but he already had cupped your face and was already trying to lean into you for more. "huh? why'd you stop?"
kaveh is ranting to you about his most recent client, i mean, his infastructure was astounding, and certainly nothing went wrong with the prototype, who the hell just cancels out of nowhere?! what was this jerk even thinking??
"it's just- aarrgghh! infuriating!" you could see the steam coming out from his ears, his eyebrows quirking in his usual way. a small pout forming, and when his mouth finally was about to move- "an- mmm..."
he already had his hand tilting your chin upwards, letting out a pleased groan. "ah, leaving way too soon. you trying to tell me to shut up, or something?"
dottore and you were just walking in silence, silence that didn't include him. because for.. you stopped counting, but probably around fifteen minutes of just talking about his newest plan. something about... well probably snezhnaya and the gods again. you didn't really know.
"hah, can't you believe it. could mortals really be as... stupid?" - "what about me?" - "i know you aren't stupid enough to think you're includ-"
placing your lips on his briefly was enough for him to stop, and let you take the lead for a few steps. "you coming, zan'?" - "you... are interesting."
pantalone loves the time off he gets because god, he barely gets time off anymore. especially with the new currency plan he has in mind, and now he had the time to tell you all about it! so, what happens when that's not all you wanna hear from him?
"you see the pinnacle of my plan, yes? it's something i've been working on for a wh- mmm," he already closed his eyes, he was taken a bit aback yet he found himself already wanting more.
trying to lean in for one more before you pull away toooo far... "hmm? you started this, do you really wanna run off?"
itto being itto was him talking about his newest beetle, checking out how how its size would make any other challengers cower, you couldn't really find yourself wanting to listen. not when you hadn't seen him in a week and this is what he was doing?
"can you believe it, babe?! i beat him before ten second even hit the clock, i'm just amaz- mmhmmm! mmmh..." before he knew it he already (and very nervously) placed his arms around your waist.
"good... lord, you taste... nice, baby, is that the chapstick i got you last week? ack! okay, sorry!"
cyno is haha very tediously telling you a joke. and you just couldn't take it anymore so you just leaned in and made sure it was a gesture he wouldn't forget about and would stop telling you about how a shoe made out of a banana its called a slipper.
"wasn't that funny? why... babe, why aren't you laughing, beautiful? did i- mmmh." for how 'funny' his jokes are, he finds his hands caressing the sensitive skin of your lower back. pulling your closer by your waist.
"mmm, you... you are something." - "better than your jokes?" - "ill have to consider, you're a good kisser."
tighnari was just talking and talking and talking about the mushrooms he had been recently using for the dishes he had been so insistent on cooking. in which he did but realized pretty late that you had left that dish untouched, thinking of touching something else instead.
"and, you know how often these appear? how lucky are we that we have them growing our garden? baby? are you li- mmh!" you could already visualize his ears pointing upwards in the shock, only to feel him lean into your lips a little more.
"you... you are so... you are gonna be the death of me."
durin has you leaning on his shoulder while the rest of your friends danced in the middle of angel's share. sharing apple juice with each other that felt even more romantic and cheesy than it should've.
it was cute in a way really, it got to a point where varka and albedo have commented, and now here he was. your favorite dragon talking about his newest conch he-
"-found in liyue, isn't that great? hat guy took me out there, i wish you were there. all the views reminded me of you. so here, keep the co- what are y- mmn..." subconsciously his wings flap at the sudden warm sensation on his lips.
"y- you... what?"
lohen is busy talking to you about his latest encounter with the abyss. ringing an arm around your shoulder as he shows you around, pulling you close and super distinctively inhales your scent in. i hope you know that he cuts off a lot of his sentences just to tell you how nice you smell and look and are today.
"geez. you're amazing, i can't help but appreciate y- mmmn! mmn..." you can tell he was a little surprised but pulls you in more. it really get to a point where you need to pull away to breathe.
"oh? you seem excited. now you wanna back away."
varka is the kind of guy to pull you in by the waist, and starts to trail his kisses down your neck that turns to bites. has his free hand already cupping your face. it's so habiskjdasdjkhsa that the guy who was trying to hit on you just a moment ago. he would've just told the guy to fuck off but he doesn't mind this either.
"oh? what makes you think they aren't take- huh? what's that ba- mmn!" taken offguard the moment he feels you on him but again, hey. he likes showing off what's his.
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premise. sometimes, talking to yourself feels safer than facing the guy you can’t stop thinking about…until he walks in on you mid-spiral. from awkward blushes to unexpected confessions, here’s what happens when your most embarrassing moments become the genshin boys' favorite memories
You're crouched beside a broken cart wheel, half-hidden in tall grass, muttering furiously to yourself as you examine the splintered wood.
“Of course it had to break here, in the middle of nowhere. No signal flare left, and I let the boat crew leave without me. Brilliant. Great job, really stellar planning—”
“You’re being rather harsh on yourself.”
You startle so hard you nearly fall backward. Kazuha stands a few paces behind, hands tucked calmly into his sleeves, his eyes full of quiet amusement and concern.
“You were gone longer than expected,” he explains, seeing your confusion. “Beidou sent me to check if you’d lost your way—or started arguing with local wildlife.”
You flush. “No, I’m just…talking to myself. Thinking through how to fix it.”
He steps closer and knelt beside you, examining the wheel. “Hm. The axle’s intact. A proper wedge might hold long enough to get you back to the road.”
You blink. “Oh. You’re not going to tease me about earlier?”
“I speak to the wind as if it listens,” he says lightly. “Why would I judge you for speaking to yourself?”
You glance at him. “And does the wind ever answer?”
He smiles faintly. “Only when I’m quiet enough to hear it.”
And then, just like that, he gets to work, gathering branches, finding rope in your satchel, never once asking why you chose to be alone in the first place but just staying until the cart moves again. Maybe the wind hadn’t answered, but he had.
diluc
He walks into the tavern early in the morning, expecting silence. Instead, he hears your voice in a low, frantic whisper as you await his arrival: “Okay, you’ve got this. He’s just a man. A tall, brooding, red-haired, intimidatingly handsome man—Archons above, why am I like this?”
He freezes mid-step, but the tap of his boot on the tile is loud enough to betray him. You whirl around, mortified, and lock eyes with him like a deer caught in emotionally compromising headlights.
He blinks once. Slowly.
“…I assume that was about me,” he says, voice neutral, but his ears are visibly pink.
“I—No—I mean—kind of?” you squeak, visibly crumbling under the weight of your own existence.
He clears his throat and looks away, reaching for a mug that absolutely does not need his attention.
“Understood,” he mutters.
For the rest of the day, he’s overly polite, painfully formal, and avoids eye contact like it’s flammable. Later that evening, you find a cup of your favorite tea left out for you—steaming, perfectly steeped, and completely unsupervised. The mug has a folded note under it, consisting of just three words: “You’ve got this.”
childe
He’s passing by your room when he hears your voice, quiet but distinct, and increasingly unhinged: “Okay. Plan A: cry. Plan B: threaten to cry. Plan C: run away and never return.”
He pauses mid-step, then leans against the doorway with a lopsided grin. “Wow, those are some elite-level crisis strategies. You sure you’re not Fatui?”
You shriek in embarrassment. “How long have you been standing there?!”
“Long enough to know you’ve got potential,” he laughs, pushing off the doorframe and stepping inside.
You groan and hide your face. “I was joking. mostly.”
“Nah, I kinda like it,” he teases. “Plan A’s got emotional flair. Plan B? Classic drama. However, Plan C?” his voice softens just a bit. “If you ran, I’d just find you. You know that, right?”
You look up and find his smile stripped of mischief. It’s quiet and gentle in a way that makes your heart trip over itself.
“But…if you do need tissues, I’ve got plenty.”
Somehow, this ends with him dragging you to sit on the couch, arms slung around you, both of you buried under a blanket neither of you remembers pulling over your laps.
“New plan,” he says, voice muffled against your shoulder. “Plan D: stay right here.”
wanderer
He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. He'd simply been on his way when he found you pacing the courtyard, completely unaware of his presence.
“He probably doesn’t even notice when I smile at him. Or maybe he does. Maybe he’s just ignoring me. Ugh. I should just throw a rock at him.”
He replies instantly. “Try it. I’ll throw one back.”
You flinch so hard you nearly drop your bag. He’s already leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, unreadable as ever. His gaze flicks to you, sharp but dissolving into something strangely unguarded. You open your mouth, but he speaks first.
“I notice,” he tells you, quieter now. almost like it costs him something to admit. “More than you think.”
Then he’s gone, vanishing down the corridor before you can speak, like he never meant to say anything at all. But later, you find a small, perfectly smooth stone placed outside your windowsill. No note. No explanation. Just one rock, light enough to throw.
alhaitham
He’s walking past the study when he hears you, your voice sounding low, frantic, and clearly not meant for anyone else.
“Okay, if I just put the books back exactly the way he had them, maybe he won’t know I was here. Unless…he cataloged them by page wear. Oh archons—what if he did? Why does he have to be attractive and terrifying?”
His deadpan voice sounds right behind you. “For the record, I do catalog them by page wear.”
You jump, dropping the book you’re holding, but instead of hitting the floor, it lands effortlessly in his palm.
“Also, you’ve been muttering to yourself for three full minutes. You’re not exactly subtle.”
You open your mouth to explain, apologize, evaporate, anything, but he just walks past and plucks a book from your stack.
“You misaligned this one by 0.6 centimeters,” he remarks, tone neutral. “But I’ll let it slide.”
You’re still frozen, blinking at him.
Without looking at you, he adds almost offhandedly, “Next time you wish to come by, just ask. I’d rather see you here than not.”
And then he starts reorganizing beside you. He’s silent, efficient, and just close enough that your shoulders nearly touch.
xiao
You’re sitting alone on the quiet terrace just outside Wangshu Inn, knees pulled up to your chest as you mutter into the dusk. “Why did I say ‘sweet dreams’? Who says that to Xiao? He’s the vigilant yaksha, not some character from a bedtime story. He probably thinks I’m a sentimental weirdo—”
“I don’t.”
You whip around. He’s suddenly there, silent as ever, standing just behind you in the fading light.
“I don’t think you’re weird,” he repeats, voice soft and steady, though there’s the faintest crease in his brow like he’s wondering if he’s said too much.
You scramble to stand, completely flustered. “Wait, how long were you—?”
“I heard my name,” he says plainly, as if that explains everything.
The air feels charged with embarrassment. Yours. Maybe his, too. After a pause, he glances away toward the treetops. His voice is quieter now.
“No one’s said that to me before.”
You blink. “Said what?”
He doesn’t meet your eyes. “Sweet dreams.”
There’s something almost reverent in the way he says it, like the words feel too fragile in his mouth.
“I didn’t think those were something I could have.”
The breeze carries the scent of silk flowers, and for a long moment, neither of you says anything.
Then, without looking at you, he adds, “But I liked hearing it. From you.”
Your heart flips once, hard.
And before you can spiral all over again, he turns to go, but stops just long enough to murmur, “Goodnight. I hope…yours are sweet, too.”
ayato
He’s strolling through the estate gardens when he catches the faint tones of your voice, muffled but unmistakably dramatic. Curious, he peeks around a hedge and discovers you monologuing to a cluster of blue hydrangeas with passionate gestures.
“Lord Ayato, my dearest nemesis. Why must you smile like that? Why must your tea taste like heartbreak and fine politics?”
His brows lift in faint surprise.
“And why did I tell him it was ‘transcendent’? That’s not normal person behavior. That’s the kind of thing a swooning diplomat says before fainting into their fan.”
Ayato brings a hand to his mouth, stifling the laugh that bubbles up. He knows he should announce himself—knows it's indecent to linger—but curiosity roots him in place. It’s rare to see you so unguarded, and rarer still to be the subject of such poetic vitriol.
You pace a few steps, oblivious. “He probably thinks I was flirting. Which I wasn’t. I think. Ugh.”
He waits just a second longer, watching as you sigh and press your fingertips to your forehead like a tragic heroine from a stage play, before stepping forward, his fan snapping closed with a soft click.
“I didn’t realize I’d been cast as the villain in your private soliloquy.”
You freeze. There is no mistaking his voice, nor the silk-smooth amusement threading through it. Slowly, you turn.
“I must say, your critique was…vivid,” he continues. His expression is polite, but his eyes betray him, bright with barely contained laughter. “And rather unfair to the tea, which I assure you is not culpable for your emotional distress.”
Your mouth opens. Nothing comes out. He tilts his head, as if considering something seriously.
“Though I do wonder what heartbreak tastes like to you.”
You groan and bury your face in your hands.
He inclines his head slightly, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Next time, speak your grievances aloud to me instead. I assure you, I respond far better than flowers.”
cyno
He walks in on you muttering and pacing in circles.
“Okay, okay. Don’t laugh if he tells another joke. But also don’t not laugh, because then he’ll think you hate him. Ugh, why is this so complicated?”
He appears behind you with a perfectly straight face and says, “What do you call a fake noodle? an impasta.”
You shriek and nearly trip over a chair. He waits. You groan.
“That was…better than usual,” you admit.
He pauses as he appraises you. His lips twitch. “So. You’ve been rehearsing responses to my jokes?”
You blink, caught. “No. Definitely not.”
He steps closer, arms folded, head tilting in mock-serious thought. “Interesting. That implies you anticipated more. Which means…you’re expecting me.”
“…to keep telling them?”
He nods solemnly. “Correct. And now that I know you’re preparing, I’ll have to escalate.”
You groan again, this time into your hands, and he finally cracks a smile. Later, he’ll tell you a compliment disguised as a riddle. You’ll pretend not to swoon. He’ll pretend not to notice. Neither of you is very convincing.
itto
You’re standing in front of a mirror, hyping yourself up. “You’re brave. You’re bold. You can flirt with Itto today. Probably. Maybe. Okay, no, don’t flirt, just survive eye contact.”
A voice behind you booms, “Well hey, I think you’re already killin’ it!”
You scream and spin around so fast you almost knock over a stool. Itto’s standing in the doorway, grinning like a kid who just found candy and a beetle.
“Also, flirting’s totally encouraged. Ten outta ten, would recommend.”
You clutch your chest. “How long have you been standing there?!”
“Since the part where you said you were bold and brave or whatever. Sounded super cool, so I figured I’d stay for the ending.”
You groan. He’s still grinning.
“But hey,” he adds, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish laugh, “you don’t gotta overthink it. Just talk to me like normal! Or, y’know, you could flirt if that’s easier.”
You entertain the idea of feigning amnesia, knowing he’d probably fall for it. Instead, you mutter, “...I liked your hair today.”
He lights up like the sun. “See? You’re killin’ it!”
Somehow, this ends with him offering to coach you through flirting with him. The audacity.
kaeya
You were only meant to drop off a report. Nothing more. Just a quick visit to the Knights’ headquarters, a few signatures, and out. And yet here you are, lingering in an empty hallway, your forehead pressed lightly against a stone pillar as you mutter to yourself.
“Genius. Absolutely genius. ‘Nice weather, Kaeya.’ That’s what I went with. Might as well have added, ‘Hi, I’ve been harboring a wildly inconvenient crush on you since Stormterror was still a problem. Want to date and/or be the reason I start writing terrible poetry again?’”
A breath of laughter—not your own—cuts through the silence.
“I’d be open to both,” a familiar voice replies.
You freeze.
He’s there, lounging against the window alcove like he’s been there all along, elbow propped casually on the sill, head tilted with interest. His smile says he heard every word. His eyes say he enjoyed it.
Kaeya pushes off the ledge and strolls toward you, every step perfectly unhurried. “Next time you plan to deliver a monologue about me, perhaps wait until I’ve left the building. Unless,” he adds, voice dropping with playful weight, “you were hoping I’d hear it.”
You can feel the heat rise to your face like a sunrise.
“I was just thinking out loud,” you manage.
“So I gathered. And for the record”—he passes close enough that his cloak brushes your sleeve—“I find it flattering.”
You briefly consider flinging yourself out the nearest window.
At the end of the corridor, he glances back over his shoulder, smile curling just shy of sincere.
“If the weather stays this nice, do let me know if that wildly inconvenient crush turns into something more actionable.”
And then he’s gone.
A junior knight passing by gives you a puzzled look. “You, uh…look like you saw a ghost.”
You exhale, voice thin. “Worse.”
baizhu
You’re by yourself in the back room of Bubu Pharmacy, sorting herbs and muttering under your breath. It’s been a long day, and unfortunately, your brain has chosen to perseverate.
“If I faint in front of him again, I’m just going to say it was low blood sugar. Not the fact that he tucked my hair behind my ear like it was nothing.”
“Hmm. I’ll make a note to check your glucose levels...and perhaps develop a tincture for sudden-onset romantic distress?”
You whip around so fast that a handful of Qingxin spills onto the table. Baizhu stands in the doorway, serene as ever, holding a tray of tea like he didn’t just obliterate your self-esteem.
“It’s a surprisingly common condition,” he adds, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “Often triggered by gentle gestures and poor coping mechanisms.”
Changsheng pokes her head out from behind his collar and lets out a tiny, delighted laugh. “Lovesick. Very contagious,” she stage-whispers.
You bury your face in your hands.
Baizhu sets the tea down beside you with quiet care. “I could prepare a cure, but I fear the malady is mutual—and, strangely, quite welcome.”
dainsleif
You think you’re alone, sitting quietly in a dim corner of the library and murmuring your frustrations to yourself. Dainsleif, combing the shelves for a particular volume, pauses when he hears the soft thread of your voice carry through the candlelight: “I bet he doesn’t even remember my name. I’m probably just a temporary footnote to him anyway. Someone who fades like shadows at dusk.”
His low voice answers from just beyond the glow of your lantern. “You are not a footnote.”
You nearly jump out of your skin as Dainsleif steps into view. The candlelight flickers across the lines of his face, which remains composed and unreadable but not unfeeling. He doesn’t speak gently, not exactly, but there’s a steadiness to his tone that seems to lessen the musty air.
“Names are more than words,” he says. “They are memory. History. Presence.”
He kneels slightly and locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing.
“I remember your name,” he continues. “Not only the shape of it. I remember the weight it carries when you speak it. I remember the careful way you said goodnight two nights ago, as if you weren’t sure I’d hear it, or hold it.”
You can’t breathe. You can’t look away.
“Don’t assume I forget the things that matter,” he says, rising to his full height again. His expression doesn’t shift, but something in his posture softens. And then, without waiting for a reply, he turns and disappears into the stacks. For a long moment, all you can hear is the echo of his footsteps and the pulse of your own heart—louder now, and somehow less alone.
tighnari
You’re elbow-deep in soil, half-focused on coaxing the withered pardisah into a new pot, when your frustration finally boils over.
“Okay, next time, just say thank you and walk away. Easy. Normal. Not, ‘Wow, your ears are so expressive today,’ like some feral maniac.” You groan and press your forehead to your palm. “He probably thinks I’m studying him like a botanical specimen. What is wrong with me?”
“To be fair,” a dry voice answers behind you, “most people don’t notice ear movement unless they’re watching very closely.”
You nearly send the pot flying as you whip around. Tighnari is leaning beside your bag of soil, arms folded, one brow arched in faint incredulity.
“You were there…the whole time,” you croak.
“Roughly since the ‘feral maniac’ part,” he amends, tail flicking with suspicious amusement. “You were a bit harsh on yourself, but entertaining.”
You cover your face. “I swear I didn’t mean to make it weird.”
“You didn’t,” he says gently, and then—surprisingly—smiles. “I didn’t mind the compliment. It was…oddly specific, but sincere. And clearly the result of long observation.”
He steps past you, crouching to inspect the flower you nearly murdered in your panic.
“Next time,” he adds, not looking up, “less spiraling, more speaking.”
His tone is neutral, but his ears betray him with the smallest, involuntary flick.
And then he mutters to himself, “They’re only expressive when you’re around, anyway.”
You pretend not to hear. For now.
thoma
You’re alone in the kitchen—or so you believe—flipping gyozas with intense concentration and muttering under your breath. “Okay, Thoma likes them crispy. Not burnt. Crispy, like his smile. No, wait, what? Focus!”
“Crispy like my smile, huh?”
You flinch. The spatula slips from your fingers and clatters to the stovetop. Thoma is casually leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and grinning like he definitely heard more than he should have.
“I’m flattered,” he says, stepping closer. “But now I’ve got questions. What, exactly, does a crispy smile look like?”
“I—I meant the gyoza, not your— Wait, no, I meant both—I mean—”
The oil hisses sharply, like even the pan can’t take it anymore. Smoke streams upward.
“No, the gyozas!”
Thoma is already by your side, grabbing the pan with practiced ease and sliding it off the stove.
“You know,” he says, grinning as he surveys the damage, “you didn’t have to set them on fire just to impress me.”
“I didn’t—!”
“Hey, I’m not complaining. Means I get to help.” He tosses you a wink. “Teamwork, right?”
Somehow, you end up shoulder to shoulder, sleeves rolled up, hands floured, trying again as he gives teasing tips on “optimal gyoza symmetry.”
Later, as the final batch sizzles golden and perfect, he leans just close enough to murmur, “Still not sure what a crispy smile is, but if we’re talking about yours…I think I get it now.”
heizou
You march down the corridor, shoulders tense, voice pitched low but laced with despair.
“No, Heizou, I don’t need your help picking up the papers I dropped. I just need a convenient hole to bury the cadaver of my dignity in, thank you very much—”
A hand suddenly lands on your shoulder.
“AAHH—” you scream mid-sentence, spinning on instinct and swinging your bag in self-defense.
Heizou barely ducks in time, a laugh tumbling out as he stumbles back, half-shielding himself. “Whoa, violent thoughts and airborne satchels? I should’ve brought a warrant first.”
You freeze, mortified. He’s already dusting off his sleeves like it’s just another day at the precinct.
“Really now, that’s the welcome I get?” he continues, far too amused for someone who was nearly concussed.
“You snuck up on me mid-spiral,” you retort, torn between embarrassment and residual adrenaline. “That’s reckless behavior, even for you.”
He raises a brow, utterly unbothered. “I prefer to think of it as instinct. I happen to have an uncanny sense for when people are saying my name behind my back. Or in this case, aloud. To themselves.”
Your eyes widen just enough to give you away. Heizou smiles like he’s just cracked another case.
“You know,” he adds, stepping just close enough for his voice to drop a tone, “talking to oneself is a perfectly natural response to emotional distress. Especially when that distress has, say…a face and a name?”
You groan and press a hand to your forehead. “You’re insufferable.”
He tilts his head. “And yet, I’m the one you keep muttering about.”
You try to come up with a retort. You fail.
“Don’t worry,” he continues smoothly, already turning on his heel, “your secrets are safe with me.”
“You are the secret,” you call after him.
“And still,” he says without looking back, “you can’t seem to stop confessing to it.”
bennett
“Okay, just be normal. If I trip, I’ll just play dead. He won’t even notice. He’s used to disasters,” you tell yourself as you pace in tight little circles outside the Adventurers’ Guild.
“Wait, was that about me?”
You nearly leap into the decorative flower box beside the stairs.
Bennett stands behind you, blinking wide-eyed, equal parts confused and concerned.
“No—I mean—kind of?” you stammer.
He scratches the back of his neck, flustered. “I mean, yeah, stuff does kinda explode around me sometimes, but…hey, you’re not gonna trip.”
He pauses, then adds quickly, “But if you do, I’ll totally catch you! Probably! I mean, I’ve got decent reflexes! Usually!”
He’s turning red now, voice rising an octave as he tries to dig himself out.
“Not that you’ll fall, or need catching! It’s just—If you did fall, hypothetically, I’d be there. Probably. Hopefully. Unless something explodes first.”
You both stare at each other in silence for a beat and then burst out laughing.
“So,” you say, grinning, “wanna grab lunch before something does explode?”
“Yes! Wait, are you asking me out?”
You hesitate. “…Would it make you trip if I said yes?”
“Most likely.”
“Then, I’ll give you ‘probably’ as my answer.”
“Perfect.”
kaveh
He hears your muffled voice through the wall.
“If I see his ridiculously pretty face one more time, I’m going to cry. Or combust. Or both. There is no middle ground anymore.”
A suspicious creak of the floorboard makes your soul exit your body. The door swings open slowly. Kaveh stands there with a tea tray and the most theatrical expression known to man.
“Well,” he says, in full dramatic cadence, “had I known my face was wreaking such havoc on your emotional equilibrium, I would’ve brewed peppermint for the nerves.”
You groan and throw a pillow at him.
“Ah! betrayed by the very person moved to tears by my beauty. So you’ve chosen emotional combustion. Noted.”
You peek between your fingers. “Kaveh, please go.”
He places the tea tray down very deliberately. “I’ll leave,” he says, moving toward the door, “but only after I point out that I’m flattered, deeply and profoundly.”
He stops in the doorway, looks back with a grin just slightly too genuine.
“By the way,” he adds, not quite looking at you, “it’s mutual. The whole…emotional-overload-in-each-other’s-presence thing.”
And with that, he leaves. The tea cools quickly. You do not.
zhongli
You’re standing outside Wánmín Restaurant, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts and muttered self-advice as you wait for a certain funeral consultant to join you for lunch.
“You can’t just stare at him every time he talks. He’s not poetry. He’s a man. A terrifyingly wise, elegant man made of tea and regret.”
You pause, frowning at the phrase.
“Tea and regret?”
You jolt and whirl around. Zhongli is standing just behind you, his expression unreadable, as if weighing your words with the patience of centuries.
After a moment’s pause, a faint smile graces his lips. “I believe that’s a new metaphor.”
Then, with a quiet elegance, he gestures in the space between you.
“You may continue your soliloquy. I find it…endearing.”
You feel your composure unravel, cheeks flushing crimson as you try to meet his calm, knowing gaze. For a moment, the world narrows to the soft sound of your breathing and the quiet dignity of a man who understands more than he lets on, and you silently wonder if maybe, just maybe, he is poetry after all.
⠀꒲ ` notes . . . GUESS WHOS BAAAAAACK! my genshin hyperfixation has returned and my friend lana convinced me to wind my ass up and write again…. i skipped through all of natlan BUT i know everything about nod krai (sorry yall lol ಥ_ಥ） + i also start uni on sunday so posts will be infrequent but i’ll try my best!! also a massive thank u for 3k??? ✌︎('ω')✌︎
ps prepare to make up a ship name for yourself and itto
VENTI — ⊹ . ݁♡ ˖
ʚ venti loves giving you kisses! he wakes up early despite himself just to be able to repeatedly kiss at your squished cheeks without you whinging that you need to leave for a commission.
ʚ affection in general is his favourite way to communicate (aside from song) how much he adores you, there’s nothing better than seeing you walk in after a long day of bloodshed and long strides along mountaintops, and immediately crashing into his arms
the door clicks open with a sharp ping. venti’s head immediately twists to face the sound, awkwardly having to bend his torso to catch a glimpse of the one person that’s been clouding his mind for the entire day.
“windblume!” he chimes, opening his arms up wide, waiting for a hug that never came. fabric drawled lazily on the ground as you dragged your exhausted limbs across the room. taking just the slightest second to fix your hair before you dropped yourself face-first onto his lap.
“bad day?” you didn’t have to reply for him to see the tremor in your shoulders. venti sadly pouts, draping a hand-quilted blanket over you. “it’s all right, darling. you’re home now, in my arms where you belong.” but when he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head, you rolled away.
strange.
now, he would normally let the matter drop. sometimes you just had those days where all you wanted was the company and not the expectation of reciprocation. but when he caught glimpse of that damned grin on your cheek as you pretended to huddle into a pillow? all his sympathy blew into a simple shake of his head.
“oh you are absolutely wicked, windblume! here i am, your devoted husband, trying to comfort my wilted flower and you decided to be a menace!” bold of him to say so, but hypocrisy was lost on him as he suddenly tackled you. crawling over your scrunched body to begin peppering your face with kisses.
he giggled, kissing at your palms when they raised to stop the ticklish onslaught. “mm, are you too tired now, windblume? cheeky thing, remind me to not trust that cute kicked-puppy look of yours so quickly!”
AYATO — ⊹ . ݁♡ ˖
ʚ oh so you’ve decided to play this game have you?
ʚ ayato is as petty as he is powerful in status, don’t think because you’re wed he won’t be going out of his way to make you regret teasing him in such a cruel way.
two months. it’s been two months since he’s seen your face, and the times he has mainly rely on his subconscious dreams—which, in fact, do not help with the yearning. weeks upon weeks of smelling the fresh scent of your perfume lingering within every folded piece of parchment. wistfully staring at the dribbles of rain on curved liyue windows.
so, of course, when the ship docked at inazuma’s port—he couldn’t help but hurry his paces. completely ignoring the struggling thoma as he stumbled over the boxes of souvenirs from his trip.
as usual, you greeted him at the front gate of his estate. home, finally. ayato could finally breathe when his head nuzzled to the crook of your neck, searching for the scent he smelt faintly in the dim nights of solitude.
“my dear love, no letter could hold up to how much i’ve missed seeing you. come, let me take a look at your face.” though when he leaned up straight you know what was coming—and purposefully dodged. his lips landing off to the side of your face.
“twitchy today, aren’t you? no matter.” he tried again. and again. till he cupped your cheeks in his large, cold hands to keep you still. “really, dear, it’s like you enjoy making a fool of a man who spoils you rotten, is this a new torture tactic of yours?”
“whatever could you be talking about, ayato?” you grin, and he quirks a brow.
dipping your chin to force your wandering eyes to fully meet his own. “i haven’t seen my spouse in two months, i would best advice for you to not tease me till i’ve had my fill of you.”
“all right, all right—i apologise!” you chuckle, dragging him by the edges of his kimono for a proper kiss. bittersweet and still laced with a longing he couldn’t replace in just one night.
“perfect,” he smiled, tucking your arm with his to lead you home. “now, i hope you don’t think i am satisfied with just that, my dear. you owe me extra loving for that stunt alone.”
A. ITTO — ⊹ . ݁♡ ˖
ʚ NOOOOO WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM ╭(╯^╰)╮
ʚ he’s already kind of awkward when it comes to showing you affection in public—he looks loud and proud sure (because he is) but there are just some things that are hard to hide behind an exaggerated grin.
ʚ but yeah pffft of course you were joking! he knew that! of course he did! he totally did not think that you no longer wanted to be associated with someone like him! or that you ate beans recently and could kill him! no way!
the battle was fierce. eyes sharp and focused, slimmed to slits like a kitsune perking in the cover of shadows. it was life or death.
“GO ITTO[NAME] GO! YOU CAN DO IT LITTLE BUDDY!” itto cheered without shame, prodding at the fearsome onikabuto as it charged against its opponent. your beetle. though it was the usual friendly competition, you couldn’t help feel like itto was getting a little too into it. you weren’t going to comment, however.
while distracted with the charming grin on his beaming face, it was too late for you to notice the way your beetle had rolled over in defeat. well, damn.
“WOOO! let’s go!! another peak performance from our bug baby!” gross, but so endearing.
“congrats on the win.” yes you couldn’t stop yourself from being petty with a hand on your hip, so what?
“soooooo, for my reward, ehem,” itto coughed awkwardly into his hand, smile somehow getting brighter as his eyes darted from your lips to the twitching beetle.
he shuffled closer, settling a warm palm over the curve of your back to help draw you in. you complied, just to give him the get go—before immediately turning away when he leaned in to kiss you. itto straightened, shaking his head in absolute bewilderment.
“huh—? did i…” he pointed at himself then at you. did he miss your lips or something? because he could’ve sworn he felt nothing just then. he tried again, and was met with the same dry taste of cold air on his tongue. all right then, clearly he was the problem here.
turning away from you, itto began fussing over himself. heaving out a breath to check the scent, he could’ve sworn he was watching what he was eating before meeting you, flexing his muscles to ensure there’s no dirt or clinging mud stuck to his skin, staring at his reflection in the shade of the onikabuto…and nothing.
“babyyy…” he pouted, finally facing forward with his hands on his hips. “are you seriously upset over losing? i swear i didn’t cheat or anything, i’m just that good! i-i’ll let you win next time! we can go another round and i promise you’ll emerge victorious! sooo, please?”
no one can resist itto’s dangerous puppy-eyes for too long.
CHARLOTTE — ⊹ . ݁♡ ˖
ʚ so you’ve chosen to have your face publicly humiliated in the daily fontaine newspaper? is that it? because don’t think she won’t sneak it in or poorly plaster wanted posters of you around town! you’re seriously tempting her with all these awful jokes.
charlotte was about to head of to an interview with the traveler, packing her stuff swiftly before glancing over at you cheerfully, expecting her usual routine of a kiss on the cheek as established early on the relationship; before every interview, you’d give her a kiss.
however, what came from you was pure silence as you stayed entranced by a piece of literature in your hands. she glares at you. shuffling some material as she searches for something until shortly, several bright lights flash all over your form, the sound of a camera fluttering working in tandem as charlotte begins taking a plethora of photos of you.
“what are you doing?” you ask her, still not paying any attention to her antics, which just makes her pout in frustration.
“taking pictures of a villainous culprit for the papers, the headline will be; “[name], the absolute embodiment of cruelty, doesn’t kiss girlfriend after she politely waits for them to do so.”
you stifle a chuckle. “i don’t think that’s particularly against the law.”
she guffaws, the camera nearly dropping to the floor. “how preposterous! it is a serious crime here in fontaine, don’t believe me? look here—“ charlotte grumbles, taking out a piece of paper to write down ‘MUST KISS PARTNER, OR JAIL TIME WILL BE 3-5 YEARS.’
“you’re so dramatic,” you sigh, finally deciding to cave in and plant a kiss to her soft lips. she relaxes, pinching at your cheek as if to punish you for the delay.
ARLECCHINO — ⊹ . ݁♡ ˖
“[name], i’ve returned.” arlecchino’s mellow voice rang out, her claws scraping on ebony wood and ashy marble.
“welcome back! how was the trip? no issues?” she shook her head, brushing back some flyaway hairs drifting from your head right behind your ear.
“none. i bought you a gift, like always.” shifting through something within her back pocket, she pulls out a necklace. crimson rubies beading through silver that dangle like spilled blood from her fingertip.
you beam, examining piece more intimately by tracing the dazzled gem. its colours fragmenting like shards on the ceiling. “it’s beautiful! you always know how to pick these, don’t you?”the praise does wonders for her ego (and also sweetens her touch later in the day when you’re cuddled together).
she doesn’t have to say anything, she never does. only leans down in arrogant expectation. it was the standard routine. a gift for a kiss, your loyalty and submission for her protection and luxury.
so did you somehow forget those things when charmed by her souvenir? or are were you deliberately attempting to push her buttons?
she closed her eyes like a fool, and no one, not even you are allowed to do such a thing. snatching your chin to keep your head from looking away in shame, her tone rumbled in your ear. “do you enjoy being a brat? or do you trust my lenience toward you will ease the punishment you’ll receive for such a stunt?”
K. C. FLINS — ⊹ . ݁♡ ˖
ʚ i’m going to speak on behalf of us slavics/baltics, we’re not really known for our PDA or affection. rather contrarily, we’re more known for being cold and stone-faced to strangers while privately intimate and warm to our friends/family. so, honestly i don’t think flins would necessarily care that much
ʚ he’s also a very polite gentleman, he wouldn’t push it if he sees you recline from a kiss. maybe he’s a little hurt, but it’s not like it’s the end of the world.
after a particularly rough and arduous fight with the wild hunt, you had managed to get knocked back. some sort of polearm scratching a non-lethal wound across your cheek, just about avoiding your eye. flins wasted absolutely no time in attempting to patch you up. hands resting respectfully on your waist as he propped you carefully on a nearby cave wall.
“are you sure you’re all right? you do not need to lie to me, i don’t wish for you to suffer alone.” his hands fiddled with a handkerchief you had knit him ages ago, using a damp edge to wipe at the crusted crimson pooling down your cheek.
“no, it’s all good. just stings a little, but that’s to be expected.” you nodded in confirmation, wincing with a hiss as his fingers creep higher to the deeper damage.
“sorry, love.” he muttered apologetically, brows furrowing at even the slight notice of your discomfort. “i should have been quicker, next time i’ll ensure that your safety takes priority. but for the meanwhile…” cold fingertips curl over the side of your face, and you can’t help but subtly chuckle at the charmingly nervous way his eyes glanced down at your lips.
he leaned closer, the faint smell of moss and rain clinging to his inky cloak mingling with the scent of antiseptic. it made you dizzy. but not dizzy enough to feel like teasing him. what’s one more fright for the night?
instead of meeting the soft curve of your jaw or slope of your nose—he’s met nearly immediately with freezing rock. you hide your giggling tremors behind the back of your palm. that was…certainly unexpected.
thinking maybe the drowsiness made him falter for the moment, he straightens back up—only just about noticing the shit-eating grin on your face. he smiles, beginning to pinch at your nose in response.
“let’s just get you to bed.”
VARKA — ⊹ . ݁♡ ˖
ʚ that man has several adopted kids in various ages, believe me he’s used to the wincing. granted sometimes it’s due to his scratchy beard (HE HAS A BEARD. I DONT CARE ABOUT THE CANON RAAAHH) itching skin uncomfortably, but he knows when you’re whinging from his touch just to be a brat.
ʚ you will not escape the clutches of this man, you wanna pry more attention from him? you’re free to have it so long as you can handle it.
not only did he dare come home smelling exceedingly of poorly poured alcohol, he managed to mangle his dripping blood onto your fresh carpet. sitting up straight like a hunting barn owl, arms tightly closed across your chest—you simply stared at him.
“come on, mein schätzelein. it ain’t that big a deal! if anything, this is the most lenient i’ve home since—“ the twitch in your eye certainly didn’t make him feel particularly superb. huffing, he stoops down on his knees to look up at you, attempting to seem as docile as possible. difficult for a man of his size, but the sentiment was rather endearing.
“look, i said i’m sorry. it won’t happen again, all right? can’t have my dear thinking i’m a terrible husband.” he doesn’t really ask so much so as he smiles and takes the twitch in your lips as confirmation. picking you up effortlessly, he holds you up like a treasure vault. hopefully filled with a bit of love left for his pathetic cooing.
when he lowers you specifically for a kiss, you quickly turn to the side and squirm in his embrace. “mn. quit it. i’m still pissed at you.”
“oh, really? so why are you grinning so hard? don’t think i can’t see it.” he chuckles, the sound vibrating warmly through your chest as he cradles you closer. his lips attempt to find any portion of your skin to kiss. mouth dragging over air as you just about manage to knock your head to the side each time.
you huff, hiding a laugh with a feigned sniffle. “i’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“pure lies, and you know it. now c’mere.”this time, with how impossibly close you were to his tight grip? there was no escape from his rightful kissing onslaught.
Warnings: sfw overall but some might be slightly suggestive. Ex Wriothesley
This is my interpretation but feel free to disagree. I like hearing other ideas
Love when you sit on their lap
Alhaitham loves when you sit in his lap while he reads a book. He likes this position because it keeps both of your hands free and he’s able to do his own thing while still holding you. He especially loves when you fall asleep with your head in his neck. He might land a small kiss on your temple before going back to reading
Childe/Ajax loves this position because he can see your face while he teases you. He might flirt, might kiss, might even feed you like this. He just adores how flustered you look when he does.
Loves to rest his head in your lap
Bennett he loves to rest in your lap after a long day. It’s not that he doesn’t like other positions it’s just that things always go wrong in other positions. This one though feels safe. When you guys are out adventuring you guys may stop and rest at a tree where he will regain his strength by resting his head on your thighs.
Kinich likes it because it’s peaceful. Usually it’s him being the more dominant one when it comes to touch. He might have his hand around your waist when he uses his grappling hook to get you places. His hands are bigger than yours so when you hold hands and he is guiding you around town you can’t help but feel protected. Most of the time when you guys sleep together you sleep with your head on his chest. This is one of the only ways he lets you baby him. He won’t ever admit it but even he likes to feel babied once in a while.
Razor isn’t too used to “cuddling”. Yes wolves like to cuddle each other but they do that by licking each other and rubbing shoulders. Obviously since he’s human he wasn’t able to do that much with his pack. Even when he did, it was a completely different feeling than cuddling with another human yet alone his lover. He liked this position because it is what feels the most natural to him. In other positions he feels a little stiff. When he lay his head on your lap he can feel you watching over him and making sure he’s safe. He doesn’t need to worry about an ambush or anything else that could be dangerous for you both. He knows you will wake him up if you need him.
Loves to see you rest your head in his lap
Kazuha thinks you are pretty so he likes how he can fully see your face from this angle. Even if you turn your head away because he upset you then he can easily brush your hair out of your face and whisper in your ear. He’ll always whisper whenever you guys are like this. Might even start playing on a leaf. He loves when you talk about everything and nothing when you’re laying your head on his lap. He even lets you vent when you’re upset. If you do he’ll twirl a strand of your hair around his finger and touch you in a way that makes you know that everything will be alright.
Xinqiu just likes the idea of being near you in general. He likes to annoy you in this position. He might pull on your cheeks or give you a backhanded compliment. Nothing to make you truly angry, he just likes to tease you a bit.
Durin is still trying to learn what humans do with their lovers. Dragons definitely cuddle each other but how is he supposed to do that if you don’t have a tail? Well he spoke to Lisa and she told him that this is one of the easiest way to express comfort between lovers. He likes how it makes him feel like he can protect you. You’re letting yourself be vulnerable near him and it fills him with joy.
Xiao feels that this is all very new to him. He finds it difficult to feel vulnerable with you. Yes you do have moments but it’s a lot easier when you’re already vulnerable and he lets himself be vulnerable to your vulnerability. Unlike with the others he will fall asleep while sitting up. He’ll keep his arms crossed and close his eyes. He won’t fall asleep until you fall asleep but if you pretend to sleep he will eventually relax enough to sleep as well.
Cyno loves to tell you jokes in this position. He can see your expression and feel you wiggle if you laugh. You can’t escape him if you’re like this since if you try to sit up he can just grab your arm to make you stay. If you have a positive reaction to his jokes he’ll adore the way your eyes twinkle when he looks at you. If you have a negative reaction to his jokes he’ll keep a hand in your hair as he will make you listen to him explaining the joke. He loves how much he can analyze your body movements when you’re like this. It helps him discover what jokes you do like and what jokes are not funny to you.
Loves when you rest your head on his chest
Itto loves this position because it makes him feel super strong. He’ll wrap an arm around you making sure to pull you as close to him as possible. He loves the size ratio between your head and his muscles. If you fall asleep it’ll so boost his ego. He’ll whine if you try to leave that position to use the bathroom. He’ll basically beg for you to come back.
Loves when his face is resting in your chest
Wriothesley is completely shameless. It isn’t even something you guys can do often since he prefers when the valley of your chest is completely bear. Oh you’re not wearing something revealing? That’s okay he’ll put his head under your shirt. Once in awhile he’ll call you into his office just so he can do that for 15 minutes before sending you away like it was nothing.
Thoma is less sexual with it. He likes cuddling in general and this just happens to be his favourite. If you’re flat chested he likes to lay his head there to hear your heartbeat. If you have a decent amount of chest to you then he’ll lay on top of you with your arms around him. He’d like it if you treated him a little like a baby when he does. (NOT AGE PLAY)
Loves to bury his face in your stomach
Gorou loves to bury his face into your belly and let you pet his ears. The first few times you did it he felt super embarrassed but now every once in a while he will gather enough confidence to ask you. This position gives you the easiest access to his ears. You’re free to interpret how he reacts to you doing this. Personally I like to think he’ll let out little non sexual whimpers when you do.
Freminet is very shy when it comes to cuddling. Whenever you spoon him he’ll get embarrassed by how warm your breathing feels on his neck. If he spoons you he will feel awkward. If you rest your head on his lap he will feel super uncomfortable because his leg would fall asleep and he wouldn’t know how to tell you to move. At least when he’s lying on your stomach you can’t fully see his face and he can’t see much of yours. You make him nervous so it gives him a little bit of peace of mind.
Loves to be big spoon
Diluc just finds it difficult to be little spoon. He has been to your request a few times but it feels most natural when he’s holding you in his arms. Most of the time you will wake up to him holding you from behind even if you guys had an argument the night before.
Heizou loves to be big spoon just so he can make you blush. He likes whispering in your ear. If you’re playing on your phone (modern au because I don’t know the genshin version of this) he will distract you by randomly complimenting you. Sometimes it’ll be suggestive other times it’ll be sickeningly sweet. All he knows is he loves to catch you off guard.
Sethos makes a habit out of touching and holding you. He wants you to be able to listen to his heartbeat. Sometimes he will put his head on top of your head or in your hair.
Loves to be little spoon
Scaramouche/wanderer acts like he hates cuddling but in truth he really likes it. He usually won’t initiate it unless he thinks you want to. Most of the the time he will be doing something and you’ll join him by hugging him from behind. He won’t push you off but he’ll tsk or make a comment about you being super clingy.
Tighnari finds it easiest to get comfortable when he feels your arms around him. He does like when you touch his ears but I think his favourite position would be a still one. If you’re spooning him he will wrap his tail around you keeping your side and back.
Neuvillette is a tall, big man. He might intimidate most but he doesn’t intimidate you. He loves when you are behind him and wrap all your limps around him as if you’re a backpack. I love the image of him holding a melusine and you holding him.
Loves when you guys hold each other
Venti loves when you guys are holding each other. If he’s drunk he’ll be a little handsy while talking about how hot you are. If he is sober he will talk in poetic riddles that you barely understand. You’re assuming they’re good things. Likes it more if you’re underneath him when you cuddle.
Lyney loves having someone to hold tight. He’s used to being forced to put on a show for everyone. Now that he has someone who he doesn’t need to put on a show for he knows he doesn’t want to lose you. He will hold tightly.
Kaveh finds that there is to nothing more relaxing than collapsing into your arms after a long day. He will even let out a long heavy sigh. When you hold him under the covers he will be out like a light. Usually he’s an over-thinker but there is something about the way you hold him that relaxes him.
Doesn’t have a favourite
Chongyun isn’t the biggest fan of cuddling. He likes physical affection yes but it’s very important that he’s able to stay calm at all times. He loves you he really does but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep his ying energy at bay if you’re super close to him for long periods of time. Holding your hand is one thing but resting against you is another. He doesn’t want you to see the side of him that peaks out when his ying energy is out of control. If you have already seen that state of him he will still avoid it. When he gets out of control he might hug the love out of you for a few seconds. (It’s canon that he gets really energetic when he can’t control his energy) if you guys ever get married he won’t avoid sleeping in a different bed than you. He has been secretly training so that one day that will be an option for you two. He wants it to come true but right now you’ll have to deal with occasional hugs and kisses throughout the day.
Gaming just loves everything. He can’t choose one position since they all have benefits. It depends on the day you ask him but he loves all positions on this list.
Characters that aren’t on this list
Albedo, Ayato, Baizhu, Dahlia, Ifa, Kaeya, Ororon, and Zhongli. All characters that I fear mischaracterizing or am really unsure.
All other characters must have come after this post (unsure if I’ll add new characters)
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genshin boys as cupids. / fluff, slightly suggestive in a couple / cw: tighnari… kinda drugging people?? / other: includes: what cupid are they, your relationship with each other, and what happens. (🏹) a/n: NO WAY I’M DONE I’M DONE I’M DONENSJSJSKSK this was supposed to be a Valentine’s Day post btw but stuff happened so now it’s a White Day post (would explain what it is here but my phone is lagging SO BAD RN) umm um i hope you guys like!! btw listen to shameless while reading it sets the tone | tagging: @aritsukemo @ananeuvii @karmamira @scaraobsession @thelustfaerie
IMAGINE… a land unknown to humans on the earth, is home to cupids. cupids of love, cupids of the fatui. they can come down in disguise to enact their jobs, and they can fly in the skies to aim at unsuspecting pairs.
in regards to cupids of love, many believe that their arrows work instantaneously without fail. while that may sometimes be the case (specifically with people who have built relationships with their significant other already), sometimes a little push is needed. perhaps to bring the pair closer, maybe because of conflicting reasons. that’s why cupids are able to transfigure into regular humans.
in regards to cupids of the fatui, their arrows cause the opposite effect of love, instead bringing hate to those shot by the dark tipped arrows. it quite literally forms a war between love and hate.
the archons of their world carry special golden tipped arrows, instilling love and immense desire into whoever they pierce automatically and immediately. those shot are drawn to whoever their desire is, and the urges that overpower the victims are seldom overcome. it’s very powerful, unlike what the usual cupids carry.
finally and most importantly, an unspoken rule is layered on top of all these cupids’ jobs. breaking this rule would be seen as forbidden, something sure to house dysfunction and a cupid’s loss of self.
and that is, having a romantic relationship with a human being is strictly prohibited.
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
literally calculates the compatibility in his pairs. very much a perfectionist. he’s subtle with how he puts people together, too. he finds humans interesting, but unfortunately might see them akin to test subjects…
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
you were a part of the knights of favonius. albedo acknowledged you, but you never became anything more than coworkers. that is, until he was instructed to matchmake you with someone. as per usual, he shot his pair: you and a knight you were close with. however, the arrow seemed to hardly work on you, you acted normally as if nothing had changed. perhaps you were just someone who hardly changed when infatuated, albedo concluded, so he went to verbally give you a push, only to find out that his previous theory was correct, the arrow simply hadn’t worked. it was odd, an error. so he began to accompany you frequently to find out why. he never expected to end up falling for you instead.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
“— and that is the story.”
albedo was speaking with kaeya, a coworker both as mortals and cupids, about his predicament.
“so, the arrow didn’t work. do you think the arrows are defective?” kaeya questions.
“perhaps. however, i believe it’s more likely that (name) likes someone else rather intensely, contracting the effects. there have been occasions of that, correct?”
“i believe so. say (name) does, in fact, like someone else. considering your newfound feelings…”
“… i won’t get in the way. cupids are not supposed to be with humans. it’s simply a phase, it will pass.” albedo responds, leaving out the fact that it’s been a long time coming since he grew to be aware of his feelings for you, hardly befitting for just a “phase.”
kaeya looks at albedo with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “i see. i suppose keeping an eye on (name) is the best thing you can do right now.”
the conversation ends as albedo enters his office and bids kaeya farewell.
albedo sighs, taking a few test tubes and containers from his shelves.
“do you like anyone?”
that was a question albedo’s been asking you the entire past week. you always avoided the question, or stated that you did but refused to tell him who. so, albedo constructed a plan.
he was going to be working with you today under the guise of the effects of a new potion he concocted.
he tips the contents of a test tube into another container, the pink liquid inside slowly sliding down.
in actuality, despite his own conscience telling him off, he was going to be giving you a sort of truth potion to get his answer, an idea he received from another fellow cupid, lisa.
he was still conflicted with what he’d do upon hearing your answer. but he’d decided a long time ago that his own feelings should never interfere with his job, and he felt that that ethic shouldn’t cease now.
he hears a light rap on the door.
“come in,” he calls out.
you enter quickly, seeing albedo swirling a slightly translucent thick pink substance. you’re quick to join his side, albedo handing you the vial.
“thank you for assisting me with this.”
you smile brightly at him, “it’s no problem! so, i just drink this?”
albedo nods. “perhaps you should sit down first. here, let me bring you a chair.”
you watch as he grabs the chair from his desk, pulling it near the lab table as he sits across from you. you take a seat.
“alright, go ahead.”
you carefully place the vial against your lips, letting the potion slowly go down your throat. you notice its harsh sweetness straight away, making you wince slightly.
when half is finished, albedo asks a question. “what do you taste?”
you lower the tube. your tongue feels looser in a way, and your mind is a tad foggy.
“it’s… incredibly sweet,” you start. your voice is a little croaky, no doubt from the potion, but you manage to recall the homeliness you first recognized upon the concoction hitting your tastebuds and manage to relay it to your partner.
“i see…” albedo mutters, scribbling something down before continuing his thought. “you may continue.”
you start to drink again, draining the vial of its contents as albedo simply observes. once you’re done, albedo asks another question.
“(name), do you like anyone?”
you pause for a second, your line of thinking immensely unclear but your mouth ready to speak without your mind catching up.
“well, i like many people, like—”
“apologies. let me make my question clearer.”
you feel a sudden sense of dread.
albedo scribbles something down again. “do you like anyone immensely, in the other sense, or perhaps, love?”
if you weren’t so horrified at your sudden realization of what you possibly could’ve drunken, you would’ve spent a bit laughing at the way he worded his question.
“i do.” your throat feels drier than before.
“who?” he asks oh-so-innocently.
“… someone.”
“what is their name?”
you find yourself looking into albedo’s eyes and expect to find his usual calculating look. instead… you see a certain gentleness you’ve never seen before.
maybe that’s what pushed you to stay in your seat, to not run away to the door to prevent you from answering his question. the words were on the tip of your tongue, and without any thought, you open your mouth to let them out.
“his name is albedo.”
you avert your gaze upon seeing the way his lips part just a bit, eyes widened as he freezes.
it stays silent, and you suddenly feel like crawling into a hole and dying.
“are… you telling the truth?” he manages to get out.
you huff in faux annoyance. “i think you know your potion’s not faulty.”
his expression relaxes a little as he mutters an apology, but he still looks conflicted.
“it’s… okay if you don’t feel the same,” you say within the silence. “i… i’ll be going now.”
“no,” albedo finds himself grabbing your hand before immediately letting it go. “i still require your help.”
before you can ask, he takes a separate vial of the same potion you consumed before and downs it fully.
“albedo?”
he sighs, setting the now empty tube on the table. “ask me if i love anyone.”
you breathlessly chuckle before complying. “albedo, do you love anyone?”
he replies instantly. “i do. (name), i love you.”
“are you telling the truth?” you tease.
he places a hand over yours and tugs it close to his chest. it happens suddenly, your lips on his as you feel him inhale a little sharply, the way his hands curl with yours and the way he chases for more when you break away.
“‘bedo,” you breathe out.
he nods, and you feel your heart squeeze at the look he’s giving you in that moment.
“i love you, too.”
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
thinks the whole matchmaking business is trivial. he only agreed because agreeing meant being able to spend his time down in the world as a regular, humble human. he doesn’t like interacting with his subjects, he’d much rather play behind the scenes.
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
simply library buddies. you’d see him here and there, nose in a book and noise cancellers deep in his ears, and you kept to yourself. you did eventually speak to each other, when alhaitham was searching intensively for a book you were reading at the time. you sparked some light conversation, and the two of you got along better than you’d expected. it wasn’t a dramatic way of meeting, and the way your relationship grew was subtle; and that’s why alhaitham liked it, liked you. you were sensible, a person he could talk to for hours without getting a hint of a migraine. he even revealed his status as a cupid, albeit because of your confrontation as to why he seemed so interested in setting up two of your colleagues together. yes, his logical mind calls him out, but for once he doesn’t want to listen.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
it was late, near the closing of the library you were close to passing out in. you had to be there, though. the exam you had tomorrow was promised to be tough. sure, you felt decently ready, but the thought of being underprepared had you wide awake. unused time is wasted time, you think.
you see a shadow loom over you from behind, the sudden presence making you jump slightly. a familiar hand comes to shut your book, taking it as you whip your head around.
“what are you still doing here?”
it’s alhaitham. arms crossed, stern expression, towering over you. even with the limited light illuminating the cozy area you’ve inhabited for the past couple hours, you can see him clearly.
you rub your eyes, blinking harshly as you respond.
“… studying.”
“it won’t do you any good if you can barely keep your eyes from closing.”
you shrug, too tired to argue. gathering your things into their bag, you slowly stand, the world blurring around you as you take your hands off the table.
alhaitham places a gentle hand on your upper back, guiding you firmly to the library exit. the air that hits you is refreshing, to say the least.
“what time were you planning on leaving?”
you give a slight grimace. “i… wasn’t keeping track. i remembered to eat something, though…”
alhaitham gives a curt nod. “will you be able to walk home?”
“i… think so? i mean, i’m tired, but…”
“get on my back, then. i’ll carry you.”
you look up at him. “wait, really?”
he turns so his back is facing you. “it would be a hassle if you were to faint due to your exhaustion.”
you get on his back, his hands protectively holding your legs as you wrap your arms securely around him.
he glances over his shoulder to look at you. “i’ll be transporting you aerially in order for you to arrive home in a shorter span of time.”
before you can reply, alhaitham begins to glow. the warmth from the luminance seeps to your bones and envelops you wholly in a comforting embrace.
you can feel the feathers of his wings begin to appear as they grow to their original state, appearing in their full glory as you try not to get in the way.
even with the change, you’re still able to recognize him. always. it’s alhaitham, no matter what form or appearance he takes on.
he flaps his wings once, twice, and takes off up into the night, full of stars waiting to surround you with their own glows.
you feel yourself smile. “thank you. you… really didn’t have to do this.”
he lightly squeezes the part of your legs he’s holding, maybe to convey some of the emotions he wants to share with you, in his own way. the breeze softly flowing against you both slightly ruffles his hair, and you almost want to reach out and take a hold of it.
“just the opposite,” he replies.
maybe it was the lack of sleep you were currently affected by, or the fairytale like moon shining upon its realm. whatever the case, you lean down slightly to brush your lips against the back of his neck.
you observe alhaitham’s slight tensing and the small shiver that seems to vibrate through him, all the way to the tips of his wings.
he looks over at you and says your name, still sounding as unaffected as always.
“if you’re going to kiss me, do it properly.”
“i thought it was forbidden for cupids to be in a relationship with humans?” you tease, leaning close to him anyways despite your heart warning you, beating uncontrollably against your will.
all it takes is him closing the gap between you for you and him to meet.
alhaitham was truly right, to love would be a distraction, a hindrance for many.
but if you asked him in that moment, when all that exists is a small bubble of you and him intertwined with the stars and constellations around, perhaps he’d share a different view.
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
hectic. breaks couples up, yearns for the chaos it brings, instigates, gaslights, pushes, plays. wherever there’s a messy breakup, there’s a childe.
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
he knew you long before you knew him. and during that time, he’d grown… attracted. so he came down, befriended you. mayyybe broke you up with your boyfriend. but he can’t say he regrets it when your relationship has grown so far now!
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
you found out that he had fabricated those photos— the incriminating photos that contributed to your break up. and you found out what he said to your boyfriend so long ago to make you sound unlikable, another addition.
“childe, don’t lie to me,” you warn. “i know you did and said those things, there’s no point in saying otherwise.”
you watch him battle with his emotions.
“… i’m sorry.” childe says.
“and?”
he takes your hands, kicked puppy face expression plastered on as he tries to apologize.
“please forgive me?”
you don’t.
“sorry won’t cut it, you know.”
you have half a mind to leave him where he stands, but a more empathetic part of you continues to reason, especially as he gets down on his knees to peer up at you through his hair.
your eyebrows raise, childe, despite his pride and status, is kneeling before you. even with the degrading position, he remains steadfast in both what he’s doing and how he looks.
“how can i make it up to you?” he asks, genuine and sincere.
he’s pretty like this, you think. but if he thinks he can get away just by that alone, he’s sorely mistaken.
“it’s not that easy,” you say, trying to make your voice come off as more serious instead of your slightly disappointed tone. “you haven’t even given me a valid reason as to why you did all this in the first place, so why should i forgive you?”
that silences him.
he stares into your eyes, different from how he was before. it’s earnest, unlike his usual playful demeanor.
he begins to emit a luminary glow, the warmth omitted traveling up your arms from his hands.
two wings flap from his back, feathers fluttering down from the movement as the appendages wrap around your legs.
you stare in awfully hidden awe.
“… childe?”
he buries his head into your hands, as if bowing to you. “i’m a part of the fatui. you know them, right?”
you let his hair sink through your fingers, softly curling into the strands as you wait for him to continue.
“… i… was jealous. i didn’t like seeing you with him. cupids, even ones like me, aren’t even allowed to be with humans. but i…”
“childe—”
“ajax,” he says.
“… ajax… look at me?” you tilt his head up, cupping his face as his eyes dart to yours.
you kneel with him, childe’s wings moving to envelop your body instinctively.
“you said… cupids… aren’t allowed to be with humans?”
he nods. “i don’t care, though. i’ve already decided, i want to be with you. i’m sorry.”
prohibited, forbidden, none of it matters as you inch his face closer.
“prove it.”
that’s all it takes as his arms immediately encircle you, kissing you so sweetly you think you’re seeing stars, as if he’s trying to erase the memory of him, to etch himself onto your lips forevermore.
and when you separate, all he whispers is,
“i’m so glad i broke you two up.”
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
best known for his prosecution upon those he finds being disloyal to their partners. kinda bad at the whole matchmaking thing due to his intimidating presence and odd use of jokes, so he usually asks others (tighnari) to confirm and help his pairs get together.
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
you live in gandharva ville and often go on expeditions to the desert for your research. being friends with tighnari, he refuses to ever let you wander into those vast lands alone, so he summons his good friend cyno anytime you decide to go. he was rather intimidating at first, but as he protected you from dangers time and time again, a trusting friendship was formed with cyno. it strengthened even more when he caught and dealt with your former cheating boyfriend. sometimes cyno wishes he could choke down his own feelings for you as easily as he choked that guy out.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
it was supposed to be a four-day expedition in the desert to go examine some ancient runes, simple and easy enough. however…
“we should be safe in here.”
you rush into the cave’s entrance, quickly running far away from the outside desert, sputtering sand as you try dusting yourself off.
cyno comes close behind, only coughing a little and being a lot more calm about the situation. you guess it makes sense, he’s probably been through sandstorms much worse than this one.
“are you okay?” cyno asks.
you cough before replying, “yep, absolutely.”
cyno places a hand on your back, the sudden touch making you slightly jolt. “let’s go further in, i recognize this cave.”
you nod, letting cyno walk you forward as the taste of sand still lingers in your mouth.
you go deeper in, ending at the mostly flat grounds of the cave far away from the storm outside.
cyno’s able to light a small fire in the cave using stones and some wood you brought along as you lay your supplies out and take stock. thankfully, you have enough food to last a couple days. you give cyno some rations and munch down on some yourself, thankful for the replacement of the sand on your tongue.
after, you get out a brush specifically for brushing off sand and call cyno over.
“let me help you get all the sand off,” you say, gesturing for him to sit in front of the fire.
he obliges and you get to work, hearing cyno sigh at the feeling of your hands carding through his hair. you check and check, making sure you don’t miss a speck.
“i won’t have time to help you if you spend all night focusing on me,” cyno chides.
you playfully huff before handing him the brush, switching positions as he starts brushing through your hair. you notice he keeps a steady hand on your shoulder, the action leaving you a little warm.
he’s done a lot quicker, much to your dismay.
cyno stands first. “we should head to sleep. we’ll need our energy for tomorrow.”
you agree, feeling the exhaustion catching up and seeping through your bones. you hope that the beds you laid out earlier are still comfortable despite the cave floor.
you climb in next to cyno’s, a small shiver leaving you at the damp feeling.
of course, he notices.
he clears his throat, not meeting your eyes as he speaks. “if you get cold… if you’re comfortable… we can share a bed tonight.”
you feel warmth cover your heart, the only part of you staying at a good temperature, as you watch this bashful side of him make the offer.
you give a small smile. “i think we’ll have to.”
he wraps a hand around yours, slightly tugging it towards him as you take the hint. you lie down the same time he does, both of you taking the other in an embrace to share body heat as your main goal and to bring a comfort closer as the second.
his hand is loose around the back of your head, hand curled in your hair as you’re tucked into his neck, legs entangled in an intimate situation you’re sure most coworkers nor friends don’t share.
“goodnight, cyno,” you say, subconsciously holding him a little tighter.
“… goodnight, (name),” he murmurs quietly, doing the same to you as he’s reminded of what exactly he’s doing.
you can hear his heart beating fast. despite the way your face starts to warm even more, a shiver still runs through your spine.
“you’re still cold?” cyno asks, his voice unwavering and alert despite getting ready to go to sleep. you wonder how he’s not freezing, considering the way he’s dressed.
“a-a little,” you lie, “i’m fine.”
he’s quiet for a little; thinking, brooding over a solution. his face is slightly scrunched, you find it cute.
“close your eyes.”
you look at him, your expression a little puzzled as he waits. you decide to follow through and allow your eyes to shut, feeling cyno bring your head to rest into him. he keeps a protective hand there as you try not to breathe too heavily or too shallowly, the position he’s put you in being a bit flustering.
your eyelids block the sudden glow you presume comes from cyno, but you can feel the sudden warmth nonetheless. something akin to a heavy blanket is draped over you, and the immediate effect is felt.
the once frigid temperature transfigured into weather you could find during a pleasant warm day, the instant difference making you relax in cyno’s hold as he stays soundless.
you snap your eyes open and try moving your head to see what just happened— especially since you’re curious about the glow that’s still apparent— but cyno gently forces your head back and speaks before you can question him.
“get some rest, you’ll need the energy for tomorrow.”
his words, despite the buzzing of your head, sends the coziness in your brain and the heaviness of your eyes to lull you to sleep stronger than you can get yourself out of.
the last thing that gets you to the slumber you need is the small peck on the top of your head, the sudden affection from cyno being the last you feel, setting flames searing throughout your limbs…
“i… love you.”
… and the only clue you have as to what happened is the feather you see fall into your line of sight before your eyes close once again.
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
very new to this job. in fact, he’s still under an apprenticeship. but he’s getting the hang of things with the occasional mishap here and there. often takes harder jobs without realizing it and actually succeeds with the help of his teacher.
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
you met through wanderer, who was a friend of yours. at first, it was simply platonic. simple adventures together, picnics, nights under the stars; just the three of you. you traveled mostly to areas where wanderer and durin could do their jobs of cupids (unknown to you). you and durin grew close, him not realizing how close until things changed when you and durin first spent a night underneath the stars together, alone. talking, giggling about this and that, and the sudden realization came being, underneath the scattered lights above, you shone so beautifully. and that had durin panicking, heart leaping and mind boggled with what he was going to do.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
“you like (name)?”
durin timidly gives a nod, waiting for the reprimanding. but surprisingly…
wanderer sighs, “… okay, and?”
“… isn’t that not allowed?”
“it’s… well, it’s… not. technically, you’re not a cupid yet. you’re still under apprenticeship,” he crosses his arms. “besides, the rule’s stupid anyways.”
“you think so? do you think i’ll still be able to become a cupid?” durin’s eyes shine again with hope.
before wanderer can answer, they hear your voice call out to them, both heads turning in that direction as they see you coming down the hill. you found a place to set the tents up.
it turns late, the sun setting as both durin and wanderer pitch the tents and help with the supplies you need for cooking. durin can smell the meat you hunted from earlier steaming in the pot, joining your side as he peeks in.
“your favorite,” you state, “here.”
you grab a plate and fill it for him with the dish, giving it to him as he looks at you with stars in his eyes.
and even after you call wanderer over, even after dinner, even after you’re done cleaning; he finds himself staring at you when nothing else is more interesting. always with stars in his eyes, always accentuated. wanderer has to elbow him on countless occasions to focus, but it’s hard when you’re so entrancing.
eventually, wanderer gets up. “i’m going to my tent, goodnight.”
durin’s heart jumps at the fact that you’re now alone together, saying goodnight back a little too ecstatically.
“there’s a clearing a little ways from here with a good look at the stars, wanna go?” you ask.
durin nods eagerly.
the clearing is beautiful, the sky fully expansive with the glowing stars running through the atmospheric darkness. it feels like a dream, a dream alike the first time durin realized he loved you under the stars.
durin sits close to you, flowers he picked up along the way bunched up in his hands as he gives you a timid smile, handing them over carefully as if he’s handing his own heart.
“for me?” you take them with a smile, “thank you, i love them!”
he feels his more animated draconic parts becoming twitchy out of nervousness. “i… i have something to tell you.”
you turn your body to fully face him. “go ahead.”
durin takes a breath.
he begins to glow, illuminating the night enveloping you as his usual wings become feathery and starkly white, the small appendages flapping a few before settling against his back. a warm luminosity lingers around the dragon as he shyly peeks up at you.
“surprise?” he whispers.
“you’re…” you pause, reaching out instinctively to his wings.
he lets you run a finger over the coverts, the limbs stretching closer to you as you look on in awe.
“i’m a cupid. well, an apprentice! and, um…” durin takes a moment to sigh out at the feeling of your featherlight touch over the base of his wings. “… and… i really, really like you. but there’s a rule for cupids, that we can’t have romantic relationships with humans, but— mmp!”
you press your lips against his, muffling his next words as he freezes, unsure what to do but keenly aware that you were kissing him.
when you pull away, you smile sheepishly. “… sorry.”
he rushes to assure you, “no, no! i-i enjoyed it! i was just… caught off guard, is all.”
you cup his face, feeling the warmth emanating from the skin as you hear him swallow.
“for the record, i really like you back, but if the rule…”
durin shakes his head rapidly. “i’m not a cupid yet. and even if i do become one…”
he hesitantly covers your hands with his own, wings fluttering and wrapping around himself.
“… i don’t think i’d be able to give you up. i’m still a dragon, and dragons are known to be greedy, especially with things like treasures. and you’re a treasure that i wouldn’t trade the world for.”
he bashfully hides his face against your palm.
the surprisingly heartfelt confession has you dipping down, kissing the top of his head to the side of his lips, kissing him properly when he emerges from your hand.
it’s like he always dreamt of. you and him under the stars again, truly, truly together, starstruck eyes staring into yours.
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
he’s rather calming; his polite, courteous personality winning people over. he tells stories to cover up his true identities, stories of the winged babe version of cupid many people have grown accustomed to. he also helps spirits find their lost loved ones.
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
you like walking in the graveyard at night, or so you tell him, visiting the souls that have moved on and the dark ambience it exudes. flins began accompanying you after he found out, and a comforting routine was formed. he enjoys the late nights talks and your presence in general, it makes him feel… more human. he wonders if you can feel the tension that he’s drowning in from late evening to midnight.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
you arrived early to the cemetery. you preoccupy yourself with searching for flins through the graves, through the fields— obviously to no avail.
“maybe i should just go to the meeting place,”you conclude.
it was gloomy, deeply atmospheric per usual. as always, you pay no mind, the knowledge that flins is around making the rather dark environment dissipate despite the keeper’s own appearance he gives off.
you hear a bristling over to the side, making you stop momentarily. a small grove blocks a small amount of vision, but you can clearly make out flins far beyond.
you make your way through the trees, landing upon a sight you could only describe as ethereal.
there was flins, transformed into his winged body, avian limbs stretched out behind him with his hand combing through the feathers. with an unbothered look painted on his face, he turns to you.
“(name), you’re rather early.”
you don’t look at him, a bit flustered from the view. “i am… um… what are you doing?”
flins smiles and you shiver.
“i suppose i’d describe it as… preening. i could use some help, if you’d like.” he says, a bit too smoothly, like he expected you to come. you feel as if every movement of yours is being scrutinized.
“if… you’re okay with it.” you say, a little bashful as you make your way over, seated in front of him as he keeps that same pleasant smile that makes your stomach flip over.
he flexes his wings out, slowly bringing them around you like an offering.
you reach out to the one on the right, slowly tracing down the curve, flins sighing out at the contact.
you reach down to a group of rustled feathers, running your fingers through the soft appendages as the man in front of you shuffles closer, his wing leaning into the touch.
you feel the ends of his wings at the small of your back, bringing you even closer to him. the intimacy is not lost on you, the way his eyes are peering into yours and how his hands have found purchase against your biceps.
he rests his head against your neck, making you tense at the sudden contact.
“my apologies. are you uncomfortable?” flins asks. you have the suspicion, however, that he already knows your response.
“no, no… just surprised is all.” you reply, distracting yourself by carding through both his wings now and feeling his feathers individually flutter at the welcome intrusion.
you remember him saying before that having a relationship with a cupid was forbidden.
so what was this, then?
maybe he was playing with you, toying with you because he knows how badly he affects you. perhaps he knows that he’s in the forefront of your mind constantly, that you stopped walking through the cemetery for the place itself and now walk for the guide.
but you refuse to believe that, refuse to believe that the kind person who divulged his secret to you would hurt you like that.
because maybe, just maybe, he’s doing this for the same reason you’re complying.
“you’re beautiful,” you hear flins say, finding him staring at you again.
“do you really believe so?”
how had this happened?
he nods, “i do.”
he bristles as you brush over a sensitive spot, making you rub circles over the area, just to get another reaction from him.
in response, he kisses you. almost. barely brushing his lips against yours, you feel him smile mischievously before trailing down to kiss your jaw, down to your neck.
with a sudden burst of confidence, you tangle a hand in his hair, tugging at the strands just enough to meet his lips again, swallowing his sharp intake of air. you relish in the reaction he gave, kissing him fully as he melts into the embrace.
his wings hug you, flins sighing into the kiss as you run a hand over that same spot from earlier, his own hands moving to take place at your waist.
yes, he’s doing this for the same reason you are.
forbidden, yes, but love all the same.
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
extremely analytical. dissects a pair before shooting and sometimes adds some spice into them, like a criminal and a detective together. that’s bound to cause some mayhem, but it’s just how he likes it.
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
you are that criminal, and he is that detective. he’s basically hurting himself twice over, first as a detective being in love with a person he’s supposed to throw in jail, and second as a cupid being in love with a human. you found out about him being a cupid, and that was because maybe he’s more comfortable with you than he’s ready to admit. despite it all, interacting with you is entertaining, so the best he can give is a cat and mouse chase with very, very tense and ignored attraction between both parties.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
it was late into the night, a time heizou should be in bed, but instead he’s up chasing a clue an anonymous person mailed him about your whereabouts.
to be inconspicuous, he’s flying around in the sky invisible to the naked eye. he has a hunch on who sent him the direction, and that has him soaring faster.
he slows to a stop at the aforementioned destination, diving down and gracefully touching the ground beneath him as he sees you pacing around, willing himself to be visible right behind you. his hands place themselves on your shoulders as he whispers into your ear,
“miss me?”
you jump, elbowing him fast and direct in the side as a response. he yelps out as he backs away, clearly facing you as you turn.
“i thought i warned you to stop doing that?” you say with faux annoyance, a smile still finding its way onto your face.
he rubs the area you hit him before fluffing his wings and gifting you a plethora of feathers in your face.
“ugh, heizou! you little—!!” you pause your frantic actions of swatting away the feathers he bestowed as he reaches a hand to the top of your head, brushing some off that were stuck in your hair. your words are caught in your throat, the sudden gentle action catching you off guard.
his hand trails down to the side of your face, resting there as his thumb begins tracing patterns like an instinct.
“something’s on your mind.”
you hate how perceiving he can be sometimes, reading you perfectly without any hesitation or doubt. he’s too cocky with this skill of his, you think.
you simply shake your head no, which obviously doesn’t suffice.
“your brows are a bit furrowed, your quips are less frequent and unenthusiastic, and you haven’t done any of your trademark taunting,” heizou claims, “what’s wrong?”
you can’t help the warming of your face as you look away from his piercing eyes.
“you said before that cupids are prohibited from having a romantic relationship with human beings, right?”
heizou nods, “correct.”
“so why do you keep looking for me?”
it’s his turn to pause, and you can predict what he’s about to say.
“well, as a reminder, i am a detective. and you are a criminal, technically, even if your motives are far from malicious, but—”
“heizou,” you cut him off, “you know what i mean.”
he smiles coolly, guiding you to look at him again. “because a little thief stole my heart, and i need to get it back.”
you roll your eyes despite the understood meaning behind his words. “that’s really cheesy.”
“i don’t think you really mind,” he says, squeezing your face a little to press his point.
you grumble a small “shut up,” before seriously asking, “but… why, though? you know it’s prohibited, at least, you made it sound like a really strict rule… so why break it, you of all people?”
you feel his other hand come to squeeze your bicep lightly, “i sometimes wonder that myself. i guess the idea of the forbidden truly does attract people.”
he’s closer than before, you notice. you almost feel like pulling away for his sake, to save him the consequences or the regret. to save yourself from the embarrassment from when he’ll eventually recollect his senses, this whole chase stopping forever.
you make up your mind and let him softly kiss you.
you can feel the passion behind it. it sparks a thought of the finality of his actions. maybe it’s his way of saying goodbye, to end this. for the both of you.
he tugs you closer, deepening the kiss as you run a hand through his hair. if this is the last you’ll ever get to see of him…
he pulls away a little suddenly, looking into your eyes.
“i know what you’re thinking.”
you smile somewhat bittersweetly. “of course you do.”
he smiles back; his more confident, more sure. leaning in, you think he’s about to kiss you again…
you hear a click of metal around your wrist.
“… i’m not going anywhere. you, however!”
you scoff at the handcuff now trapping you to him, your expression now turning sly. “really, heizou…”
you push him to the ground.
“hey!—”
you dip down to his ear, whispering something simple.
“you wish.”
and you slip out of the cuffs, beginning the chase once again.
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
swings and misses and forms accidental couples. but sometimes these accidental couples can turn out to be accidental greatness, because sometimes even the most dysfunctional pairings at eye view can turn out to be the most suited together.
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
it all started when he shot you by accident and started rolling with the idea, only for you to wonder why this random stranger was badgering you to go for another stranger who you’ve only seen when you go on shopping trips that you find mildly attractive. cue itto revealing through stumbled, irrational, quick fire words to save face that he’s a cupid and not some weirdo at all. odd way to start a relationship for sure. you didn’t quite believe that a guy like him could be a cupid, so from that day on itto persistently brought you along his missions in order to prove it, inadvertently digging a hole for himself as he began truly talking to you and feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. so despite your start, you have a tight-knit relationship, something itto desperately wants to change into something more.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
“itto… are you sure about this?” you glance down the cliff. you’re so far up that it makes your breathing somewhat shallow.
“of course!” he laughs boisterously. “trust me, i’ve got the largest wings out of all the cupids, this’ll be a piece o’ cake!”
he swiftly picks you up bridal style as you yelp.
and without being able to think things over, he jumps.
clinging onto him for dear life, you scream as loud as humanly possible as the drop yanks your breath away. even from beneath your eyelids you can see the light, apart from the glow emitting from itto.
when you actually think you’re about to faint, itto flaps his wings midway through the drop and starts flying in place— a chance to catch your breath before he zooms straight ahead through the skies.
“itto!” you yelp.
you hug him as tightly as you’re able to without going limp, vaguely thinking about how you’re able to feel his muscular build so distinctly.
“c’mon! take a look at the view!” itto yells over the winds.
you let yourself take a small peek at the view when you get over the feeling of retching, focusing on the sound of itto’s laughter as you shakily move.
the view is stunning.
the mountains stretched out below connected to the plains adorned with stretches of forest and wildlife, the pristine waters running through the landscape and flowing endlessly. if your face weren’t so numb, your jaw would be dropped.
itto stops, flying easily in the sky as he holds you protectively in a static movement.
you inhale deeply. you’re still so high up, but now that you’re not speeding through the skies…
you look up at itto. he’s staring deeply at you, seemingly lost in thought. you want to smile at how serious he looks in the moment, the emotion hardly befitting for someone like him.
he opens his mouth only to shut it immediately after.
“is something wrong?” you ask.
“i really want to kiss you right now.” itto blurts.
your eyes widen.
“i, i mean, i really want to… miss… pi…di… diss! your hair is a mess. i mean, you still look good, though… wait…”
you cut him off with a small laugh. “… even now, you’re not too good at this cupid thing, are you?”
“wha— of course i am! i’m great—”
you shake your head in tired disbelief. “you… kind of… confessed to me.”
“so?”
“that’s… isn’t that not allowed?”
“huh, says who?” itto says, confidence exuding as he speaks loudly even though you’re the only one listening. “i dunno if you’ve noticed, but i’m kind of a big deal— i don’t listen to any rules except for the rules i give to myself. except for you, and shinobu i s’ppose… and—”
you roll your eyes and kiss him, cutting off his yelp as he (thankfully) holds you tighter. despite his shakiness, he holds you with a death grip, refusing to drop you even with his excitement, eventually kissing you back.
when you separate, you take note of his flushed face.
a gigantic smile grows on his face, the giddiness apparent in his voice. “i— you just, we just!”
you smile back, albeit shakily. “we did— please don’t drop me.”
“(name),” itto breathes, “you trust me, right?”
you nod, a bit out of it, maybe from the enveloping scenery, maybe from the sudden kiss, maybe from how high up you are. “i… do—! itto!!”
in an instant, he drops you suddenly to hold you by the waist, flipping you both upside down in the sky, the ground hundreds away now feeling a lot farther.
your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as they were before, the closeness not being lost on you.
“normal kisses are boring! let’s do something more… flamboyant!”
you find yourself laughing even with the precarious circumstances, and he dips back to your lips and holds you even closer.
it’s ironic. you feel safe, even as the ground seems so much farther away from your cloud nine.
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
naturally charismatic and smooth talks his way into people’s hearts purely by accident before giving them to someone else. unfortunately, he’s off the table…
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
a thin line between ‘just friends’ and ‘in love’. outsiders see plenty of flirty banter, while you two see a wall. something that you can’t cross completely because crossing would mean never turning back, and that’s an idea kaeya cannot do because it’s prohibited. so he lets you come close, be in his space. but never beyond that line of friendship, even if he wishes you both could cross it.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
kaeya was feeling more troubled than usual.
perhaps it was because of yesterday when he almost kissed you when under the influence, maybe it was the way you lingered in his office in the morning.
he downs a shot, diluc glancing over at him as the captain signals for a refill.
just a few hours ago, kaeya launched one arrow into one of his subordinates and another one in you— perhaps one of the hardest decisions he’s ever had to make.
he gives a hefty sigh, hand on his forehead as he wonders if doing that was the right thing to do. on one hand, it’d be easier to keep himself and his feelings away from you, momentary pain would be better to feel now rather than in the long run. however…
… he dreaded having to witness the consequences of his actions. you flirting with that other knight. you coming to kaeya to change your patrols to be with that other knight. you clinging, kissing, maybe one day marrying—
“kaeya? hey, are you okay? don’t tell me you’re drunk…”
he whips his head around at the voice, and lo and behold, it’s you. thankfully, that other knight was nowhere to be seen.
you slide into the stool next to him, kaeya a little mesmerized, most definitely more than out of it. the sight of you acting normally does somewhat sober him, prompting him to offer a charming smile.
it quickly dissipates, however, upon the sight of that knight coming up. he taps your shoulder, diverting your attention from kaeya.
this is what was supposed to happen, right?
so, why does he feel like barging in on your moment?
kaeya forces himself to turn away, facing the counter as diluc comes into view.
“have you changed your mind?” diluc calmly says, quiet enough for only kaeya to hear as you’re busy with the knight.
“you know i can’t,” kaeya mutters, “as much as i’d like…”
he finds himself glancing over to you chatting happily, your companion’s face a little flushed.
diluc simply raises a brow, leaving to go tend to another matter in the tavern.
kaeya plasters on his usual, easygoing smile again as he faces you both, awaiting a break in conversation before interrupting.
“(name), feel free to order a drink on my tab. i hardly believe you came here only to talk.” he manages in an even tone, a small bite escaping near the end.
you chuckle a bit. “you’re going to have to pay that off someday, you know.”
kaeya laughs, even if he’s used to that tease you use more often than you realize. “not today, it seems. diluc appears to be in a rather good-spirited mood.”
at the mention of his name, diluc makes his way over. “what would you like tonight?”
kaeya thinks he’s doing pretty well. maybe it was the alcohol numbing his senses, helping him be able to get through tonight without reaching for the reversing solution— that would ‘reverse’ the affects of the arrow kaeya shot— just yet.
he risks a look at you and the knight again.
you’re a lot closer, he notes.
in fact… you look as if you’re about to kiss the guy.
and in that second, kaeya folds.
eyeing diluc rather pointedly, he gets the message across, earning an eye-rolling from diluc as he takes the special vial out, pouring the contents into your drink and then to the knight’s.
slamming the drinks on the counter and effectively interrupting your moment, diluc departs with a plain, “enjoy.”
as soon as you finish it, kaeya steps off from his seat and takes your hand gently.
“it’s getting late, wouldn’t want you getting wasted without anyone to take you home. shall we leave?”
he’ll apologize eventually, he’ll tell you everything eventually.
but for now, he’s taking you home.
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
probably the best (not biased) cupid you could have by your side. everything comes easily with him and how he guides his pairs together, he’s a natural. the only problem he has is how lonely it makes him feel sometimes… but perhaps that’s why he works so hard to bring people together.
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
you met on the alcor, and ever since then you’ve created a routine of meeting him either late at night or in the wee hours of the morning up in the crow’s nest. it’s easy to confide in you and to carry conversations throughout the hours, and you grew to be sealed in a special place in his heart. maybe too special.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
the breeze flies through the party on the alcor’s deck, people drunk out of their minds as a new day approaches.
you hear kazuha hiccup, drunk and draped over your back as you trudge to his room.
“where are we going?” you hear him slur quietly, nuzzling into your shoulder.
“your room,” you stop in front of his door, struggling to open it with kazuha hugging you so tightly, but eventually manage.
you walk in and shut the door behind you. you notice there’s more papers scattered about, likely an assortment of abandoned poems. his small snores catch your attention.
you lightly nudge your head against his. “kazuha, wake up for a bit, please.”
his eyes flutter open after a few as you back up into his bed, waiting for him to get the message. he seems to understand and falls back, but not without grasping onto your shirt.
you gently remove his fingers, turning around to face him. he’s sitting, staring up at you like you’re the multitude of stars he finds himself admiring every night, no matter how many times he’s done so.
“are you,” kazuha hiccups, “leaving?”
“i… am,” you (hesitantly) affirm, “i’m pretty tired…”
kazuha squeezes your hand. “then, stay? we can sleep together.”
you feel heat creeping up your neck. “you mean… sleep in the same bed, right? not… nevermind.”
you recognize the feelings inside you wanting to stay, but your rational mind warns you that by doing so would mean having to deal with the situation in the morning, with him sober.
you glance away for a second, from the kazuha before you that’s vulnerable and appearing ready to spout something out but unable to, this side of him you rarely get to see.
you find yourself sitting next to him, holding a hand of his as you speak softly. “i… don’t think i should. but i can stay until you fall asleep.”
you catch him staring at you with that expression again. “more?”
“more?…”
“can you stay more?” his words are a little mushed but still so yearning, prompting a smile to appear on your face.
you shut your eyes and sigh, “i guess i could…”
when you look at him again, he seems closer than before.
he utters your name so reverently, “i…”
a serious expression replaced the wanting features he wore before, like a sobering sense of reality finally sunk in.
“‘m sorry.” he simply says.
“for?…” you say in return.
it’s quiet. he seems to ponder something, shakes his head, and lies properly on the bed, tugging you down with him.
it’s warm, sharing a bed with someone else. especially when that someone tucks you under his head, holding you close like you’ll disappear from him too.
“…goodnight.” he whispers, his voice the clearest you’ve heard since you found him drunk, draped over a table and half-asleep.
“goodnight,” you return, wondering why his behavior seemed so final.
you’re not able to ask as he quickly falls to slumber.
morning arrives fast, considering it was in the early hours of the morning when you fell asleep.
kazuha’s up first. he opens his eyes, wincing at the memories flooding in from last night. his head hurts, a dull pounding scattering his concentration. he registers that someone’s in his arms.
he can feel his face start to warm as he remembers.
he remembers wanting to kiss you. he remembers how dangerously close he was to confessing. he remembers how he wanted to confess everything— how he felt, his job as a cupid, how he wanted to be with you so badly it hurt his heart whenever he thought of you.
kazuha intakes a large breath of air, slowly letting it out as he recollects his thoughts.
even with his conflicting thoughts, he finds himself holding you tighter, before pulling away slowly. you stir in your sleep, eyes opening as you see kazuha standing next to the bed.
you feel like panicking, even as he apologizes for waking you up. he seems so far away, even though he’s so physically near.
you sit up, staring at the man before you.
“i apologize for my actions in my drunken state. were you uncomfortable?” he asks sheepishly.
you shake your head no, wondering if you should address how distant he seems. instead, you find yourself cupping his face in a daze.
“(name)?…” kazuha says quietly, his voice light as he covers your hands with his own.
he had enough time to back away, to state that he didn’t like what you were doing, just to save himself from these feelings he created— but instead, as you lean closer to him, he gracefully accepts your lips on his.
it’s soft, something so warming with passion along unspoken words to each other. it ends too soon, kazuha pulling away with an even softer look in his eyes.
“please don’t leave.” you say before you can think.
kazuha’s torn. you know something’s up, you know him so well from the time you’ve known each other.
he could very well lose his title of cupid and his own being. his mind berates him with these words, but in the end his heart makes the decision.
he gently kisses you again.
he will stay.
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
tactical, cool headed and takes his time when pairing those he thinks are fit together. a stark contrast to ajaw who’s far from the not so easily swayed demeanor kinich exudes, instead opting for hotheadedness and irrational decisions.
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
it took a long while to crack through his exterior, to cross that bridge from being just another friend to something deeper, dangerous. you’ve had too many close encounters like that, too near what was considered prohibited. moments where proximities tested patience, moments where your lips are so close a simple movement would join them together (mostly because of ajaw who “doesn’t believe in the rule”)— it all serves as a reminder. a reminder that when it comes to you, he’ll do anything, as weak as it makes him out to be.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
“KINICH! are you paying attention?! did you hear ANYTHING i just said?!”
kinich sighs, “be quiet, ajaw.”
“you’re thinking of (NAME) again, AREN’T YOU? how PATHETIC! KINICH, ogling over a HUMAN! if the rule weren’t so STUPID, i’d tell the ARCHONS!” ajaw fulminates.
kinich looks over. “no, the reason why you haven’t told them is because if you did, we both wouldn’t be able to see (name) ever again. i know you like them too.”
ajaw huffs. “WELL, UNLIKE YOU, I WOULD CONFESS IF I WERE THAT DEEPLY IN LOVE!”
kinich tunes him out with the rest of his insults along the lines of “YOU COWARD!!” and “YOU’RE BLIND IF YOU…” echoing in his ears.
he wonders what you’re doing right now. he wishes you were with him instead of his current partner, but maybe some separation would do him some help considering…
“— EVEN THE GOLDEN ARROWS OF THE ARCHONS WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO OVERCOME YOUR COWARDICE!!”
kinich slaps ajaw away, the dragon flying away into the sky with aggravated yelling.
though, the dragon’s last words still replayed across his mind…
… especially as a lustrous arrow-like weapon hits him a few moments later.
it’s dark out when you find kinich. hunched, elbow balanced on a knee as his eyes, unfocused, stare at the ground.
of course, you run over. sitting next to him, you notice the slight sheen of sweat on his head, slightly out of breath. maybe he just got done with a commission?
“kinich! hey, are you okay?…” you place a hand on his shoulder, his body immediately tensing. you lift to take it back, only for him to take your wrist halfway.
he lets go with a small mutter of an apology, still not looking you in the eyes.
he says nothing; but you notice the way he shifts away when you come too close, how on edge he suddenly seems to be.
you frown.
“kinich…”
he shakes his head and wincingly speaks. “you should go home…”
it makes your heart pang with a little hurt before pushing through, slowly and gently taking his hand in yours as he curls his fingers with yours, despite the words he last said.
“only if you go with me,” you say without much thought put into the implications.
kinich tightens his grip on your hand, not to a suffocating point, but noticeable.
he lets you come close.
and just like so many times before, you’re in a dangerous situation.
but this time, there’s no one to interrupt.
kinich feel weak reaching out to you, cupping your face purely by instinct, his keen, intellect ridden thinking overrun with you.
and the words, poisonous coming from him, “kiss me?” are the product.
your eyes grow, looking at him with such surprise in contrast to his stoicism, hiding beneath some sort of suffering, a yearning to be loved. it hurt, it hurts.
but he’d suffer eons if it meant he could experience that love, even just once. such as in the moment where your lips come to his, featherlight in ministration, like you’re testing how far the fall is.
he’s the one who deepens it, leaning into you as the moment seems to last for so long, just as he wants it to be.
after all, his yearning must come with some price, no?
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
the epitome of love at first sight. but also the epitome of hate at first sight. when you spot someone and immediately fall in love, lyney’s at work. he’s a rather romantic person, after all. if you spot someone and immediately want to wring their throat, lyney’s also to blame. although he prefers the former, he is a part of the fatui. what can be done?
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
ironically, love at first sight. only on his end, however. you… saw differently. perhaps someone was messing with him, because you seemed to dislike him from the get go. taste of his own medicine, huh? that dislike transformed into something deeper, akin to hate, as he began breaking up you and whoever you were romantically involved with. he thought he was being subtle, too… now, he spends his time flirting with and dedicating his shows to you, hoping that maybe one day things will change.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
it was late out, a time you’d rather have spent at home. however, your friend decided it’d be a great idea to go to a magic show happening around that time, dragging you along despite your protests.
even now, seeing the magicians performing on stage makes your blood simmer. you can see the smug glint in his eyes and even his less expressive sister has a knowing look in hers. you know they see you.
and yet, despite the clear distaste you’ve made clear for the pair, lyney still throws you that same rainbow rose bouquet he throws every single time you (somehow, usually by force) attend his shows. even if the gesture makes you feel even more taunted, you still can’t help but feel the action to be a little… heartwarming. you feel your face uncomfortably heat up.
you can barely hear nor see the people around you, their stares nonexistent as you narrow in on the stage, at lyney. he stares right back, but the intent behind his gaze is noticeably different than yours.
“you know, i think he’s into you! you’re so lucky!”
you excuse yourself from your friend.
you need some air, away from the crowd, away from their piercing— and you find yourself leaning against a far alleyway wall, heart beating uncontrollably as you recall that soft look in his eyes. you shake your head from those thoughts, shifting to look at his gift in your hand.
it’s quiet, the only interruptions being the small echoes of cheers from the magic show. it’s almost over, you can tell.
you feel your fingers slowly curl deeper into the bouquet you’re holding, choking the pretty flowers as a few petals make their way to the ground. you toss it, the main vessel joining its shedding.
“oh, dear.”
you instinctively wince, head rising to meet the voice of the one you heard speak. you recognize it, and it makes you feel a little sicker.
“you don’t appreciate my gift, i take it?” lyney eyes the mess on the ground, flowers strewn all around lying on top the ribbon holding them together, colored your favorite.
“i’d love it if it were from anyone else but you.” you immediately jab.
he dramatically brings the back of his hand to his head as if going through a fainting spell. “oh, mon amor, you wound me so…”
“don’t even,” you cut in, “i’m sure your sister must be looking for you—”
“lynette is preoccupied with cleaning the stage and knows well about my absence.” lyney smiles, but you feel far from eased by the gesture. you notice the small hint of sadness beneath the mask, and wonder what’s really going on.
despite wanting to ask, you feel your eye twitch. “what do you want, exactly?”
his expression morphs into something more serious, genuine. he slowly tips his hat off, holding it to his chest as he locks eyes unwaveringly, intensely.
“i’ve been… pondering. reflecting, as of late… about my actions towards you from before. i never truly apologized, have i?”
you look at him strangely despite the words from his mouth being in the same tongue, simple meaning, easy to comprehend; but the things you want to say in reply escape you.
you remember them so clearly, the memories of previous lovers not lasting because of the man in front of you playing some part in the relationships’ demise. you have had nights struggling over his actions, thoughts keeping you awake as insecurities bubbled and everything seemed to overflow. it comes to mind that what he’s saying is true. he never quite said a sort of sorry for everything, despite “pursuing” you today.
“… no, you haven’t.”
he almost reaches for you, but thinks twice. “I’m sorry, truly, for causing you all the pain you must’ve gone through because of my actions.”
you divert your eyes as you find yourself mumbling, “why are you apologizing now?”
lyney risks a step forward, ending right in front of you. “when you were looking— glaring— at me from the audience, i felt… felt a certain sorrow. that perhaps… i was simply forcing you to be someone that i can never achieve or be lucky enough to have.
i know my attempts seem unserious… but when i broke your relationships back then…”
“lyney,” you interrupt softer than you intended, “were you… jealous?”
he ceases to look you in the eyes.
“you’re… that’s a petty, stupid thing to do, you know that, right?” you chide, eyes wide in disbelief. all these years, you had believed his flirting, those breakups— all to make fun of you, have some fun at your own expense. but…
“love is blind, i can attest to that.”
before you realize it, you’re pulling lyney in, his back against the brick wall as he breathes a small, sharp intake of air.
he gives a small smirk despite being the one trapped. “oh? and to think you seemed to hate me just a few moments ago. did i play my cards to your liking?”
“were you serious?” you ask, not replying to his statements. “do… do you actually—”
lyney puts a finger to your lips, infuriatingly light with a small teasing tone of voice. “nothing but the truth.”
and that’s all it takes to have your lips on his, kissing him so unlike the embraces you’ve experienced before, this filled with a certain kind of passion that fills the memories you once held as ammo for your hate for the magician you’re locking with in an alleyway.
it makes you almost laugh at the irony, at the contrast.
you feel lyney’s hands trail to your waist, pulling you closer as you wrap your arms around his neck, before slowly pulling away for some air. he chases after you even as you lean away for a little, until the sound of footsteps makes you both halter.
you pull him back and duck quickly behind the nearby trash bin, thankfully tall and wide enough to block any view of you two, as the footsteps fade into the darkness of the night, small calls of your name being heard.
only small intakes of breath can be heard as you both catch your breaths, a small giggle leaving you.
“that’s… my friend. we… we should go, huh?” you say, a little short of breath. “i’m sure lynette’s—”
“they can wait,” lyney tugs you onto him. “please?”
how were you ever able to resist him before?
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
breaks couples up for the fun of it, sometimes with good intentions and sometimes with non-justifiable reasons. he yanks out the worst in people, clouds people’s judgements, makes it so that fixable problems turn into bigger dilemmas. a pain is what he is.
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
he hates you. his first time meeting you was when he was in the middle of instigating a breakup. it was going pretty well until you bumped in, smoothing everything out the quickest he’s ever seen someone do. so, he avoided you. but you kept mending whatever relationships he’d try to break up in your area. and sure, he says he hates it, but the fact that he still stays in your area suggests something. with that said, you’ve known each other for quite a long time.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
he heard you got a boyfriend.
so, he formed a plan.
he waited for a few weeks, just to let your new “phase” become a more familiar part of your life.
then he shot his arrows at your boyfriend only, just to make the pain hurt more on your end. unrequited love was always bitter, satisfying to him, after all.
for the next couple weeks, he began feeding your boyfriend information about yourself that was exaggerated in the worst way possible, well fabricated falsities, anything that would make him leave.
it was supposed to be liberating, seeing the day your boyfriend finally ended it. scaramouche was invisible to your eyes, floating in the skies above as the confrontation happened, and when that guy left you standing frozen in place, he thought he’d relish in seeing your tears, the sadness that always came with breakups like this. you still had feelings for your now ex, after all.
but instead…
you had just gone through a messy breakup. you couldn’t help crumpling to the ground, sitting and furiously wiping your face whose tears just kept coming.
you stopped wiping them when they wouldn’t stop. you let them fall, let the world around you fade as you sat, disassociated.
you hear a rustle come from nearby.
behind a tree comes him.
scaramouche, an infuriating jerk who you’ve only interacted with through bitter insults and counteracting whatever pleasure he gets from wanting to break people up. you’ve never seen a softer side of him, never seen a reason to try, up until today.
you watch him cautiously as he sits down next to you.
“what do you want?” you say as coldly as you can, but you’re too exhausted to muster up any sort of intense emotion.
“… you’re crying.” he states.
“… no kidding?”
“do you… want to talk about it?”
you let the awkward silence sink in before addressing what he just said.
“… really, when you’re probably behind this? leave me alone, scaramouche.”
you sniff, turning your head away from him.
he scoffs. “as always, you’re being such a brat.”
when you don’t give him a reply, he moves to where you’re facing.
slowly, he cups your face. you almost flinch in response, but his hold on you is almost… comforting, in a way.
“you’re ugly when you cry.” he says, wiping away your remaining tears.
you huff, “that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
this time, he doesn’t respond as he wordlessly keeps your face held by his hands. your eyes are dried by now, but everything still lingers.
“you did this.”
scaramouche looks away from you, contemplating. “it’s not like he was a good boyfriend to you.”
“how would you know?” you look at him with a glare, albeit with some curiosity.
“it doesn’t matter.”
“i think it does, what, were you jealous?” you challenge, making scaramouche sigh as he looks you in the eye. it’s a little intimidating, but you meet him head on.
“the audacity to even suggest something like that.” he mutters, containing less of his usual bite.
“you’re still holding my face.”
he’s silent.
“i hate you so much,” he starts. you’re about to retaliate before he continues.
“does he know you hate the restaurant you always go to on dates?”
“wha—?”
“does he know,” he cuts you off, “that you take the long route home from that restaurant because you like the scenery and hate the muddy roads through the other path?”
“no,” you butt in. “so how do you know?”
“like i said, it doesn’t matter. what matters is that he was stupid and you shouldn’t be crying over him.”
you feel your eyes widen.
then it hits you.
something literally hits you. pierces, to be exact. but you don’t feel pain. you feel the opposite, you feel the warming in your chest, your face growing hot and your vision turning dizzy.
scaramouche’s still holding your face, his own eyes blown open as you process the sudden spike in heat from his hands.
you hear him curse under his breath.
neither of you makes a move as the symptoms fully sink in.
you find yourself bringing your hands to his porcelain face, feeling him shiver.
and before you can fully think, both you and scaramouche lean in at the same time.
when you press your lips against each other, it’s soft, delicate, like you both are testing the waters without rippling through it. you feel him sigh into the kiss, the action making you move a hand to the back of his neck. it quickly becomes more desperate than you intend.
you hear someone stutter your name as you pull away from scaramouche, recognizing the voice.
it’s your ex.
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
somewhat traditional and a tad bit cheesy with how he matchmakes, but there’s nothing wrong with that! known as “the fixer” because he fixes up relationships and helps them stay fixed.
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
really, really, unfortunately likes you. he’s been caught daydreaming on countless occasions, gives you homemade and purchased gifts he knows you like, sees you in places and things that remind him of you— all to be reminded of his place in the grand scheme of things. he knows, he’s falling too hard for someone he can’t have. but for some reason, he can’t stop.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
so, maybe he likes— loves— you a lot.
and… loving sometimes means having to make sacrifices to keep your loved ones happier for the future. that’s what he thinks, at least.
a cupid loving a human wasn’t normal, wouldn’t be good in the long run. therefore…
“what’s my type?”
thoma nods, an awkward laugh leaving him. “yeah, um, i was just wondering…”
you smile teasingly. “okay, let me think.”
“take your time,” thoma nods, looking anywhere but you else he might fold from the expression you’re giving him. calculating, knowing. he can feel himself fluster, face turning warm under your staring.
you hum. “personality-wise… someone caring, loyal… too kind for his own good while still having a playful side.”
“i-i see…” thoma says. he thinks for a sliver of second that your description matches terms many have used to describe him, and his heart flutters more rapidly than he appreciates while sinking all the same. “and looks-wise?”
you inch closer to him, he notices all too well. “hm, strawberry-blonde hair… green eyes… tall…”
thoma feels his heart jump higher and higher to his throat. you’re close, closer than before…
“are you… describing someone in particular?” thoma manages, an easygoing smile masking how badly he wants to pull you in at the moment, to profess his love for you, to be able to be with you forever…
your expression falters slightly. “i am, actually…”
“are you, by any chance…” he trails off, this wasn’t supposed to happen, he’s letting his feelings get in the way again—
you place a hand on his chest, no doubt feeling how hard his heart hammers. “i was describing you, you know.”
thoma’s breathing hitches. he wants to confess right then and there, to pour his whole heart out, but all he can get out are a couple stutters because this shouldn’t be happening.
it shouldn’t, it’s prohibited, but he lets you cup his face anyways, his hands ghosting over your biceps unsure of how to continue.
“thoma… are you okay? you… don’t have to reciprocate…” you say, worry prominent in your tone. he can hear the underlying dolor with your words, and thoma wants to beat himself up for being the cause.
he makes up his mind.
running his hands down to your waist, thoma pulls you against him and kisses you tenderly, softly; the immediate elation filling him up. he thinks that nothing else can compare to the happiness overwhelming him at the moment as your lips move as easily against his, your thumb caressing his face so sweetly.
even when you separate, it’s slow, a small lean away with your breaths still able to intermingle. his lips tingle, and he dips down again, only to be stopped by your finger.
your eyes crease. “i take it you feel the same?”
thoma laughs, gentle and warm sounding. “i do, of course i do.”
and when he kisses you again, he knows for sure he’s a goner.
he fell too easily, too hard.
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
works with botany to make relationships bloom (haha). known to make people spontaneously smell better with his specialized perfumes and colognes when around their other half and creates unique atmospheres that a simple candle couldn’t create with his own blends of incenses. and the meals he makes on occasion… well, he knows a very powerful spice that leaves those who eat his food rather infatuated.
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
it started out merely as earthly coworkers, but he developed feelings as you went on more expeditions and patrols together. he buried them down, however, sticking to the opportunities he’s already been gifted. he already got special permission to be stationed near the forest he so dearly wanted to be by, so faraway yearning will have to be enough.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
it was on an expedition with you, tighnari, and two other rangers; them being apart of his current mission as a cupid.
he’d already shot them with his arrows, but them dancing around each other would hardly be named a job well done. they needed a stronger push, something like a concoction of his slipped into their food or something…
“‘nari, you awake in there?”
he hears you call out to him, gentle as ever. he wonders if you know how crazy that drives him.
he sets down the spoon that he’s been mindlessly stirring around against the pot.
“we may need more firewood. could you go look?”
you nod and scurry off, leaving tighnari sighing to himself. he glances at the two rangers beside the river gathering water, making sure they’re a good distance away. he then scoops a good serving of stew for the four bowls set out, sprinkling a special spice he made himself into two of them and stirring the mixtures as to conceal the extra ingredient.
his ear twitches as he hears you coming back along with the rangers, taking your bowl to hand to you.
you accept it with a smile as he warns it’s hot, joining him sitting as you dig into dinner.
he carefully watches the pair across from you out of the corner of his eye as he converses with you and, thankfully, things seem to be going well.
you suddenly stand up, diverting his attention to solely you. “ah, i don’t feel too well… i think i’m gonna go to bed early.”
tighnari nods, standing up beside you and taking your bowl slowly. “don’t feel too well… in what way? you didn’t do any unsupervised foraging, did you?” his voice reaches a sterner tone near the end.
you simply shake your head. “just… off. it’s nothing, really. probably just tired, it was a long day.”
he nods, “i see. sleep well, then.”
you thank him before going into your tent, tighnari puzzling over what could be the matter before refocusing to the job at hand.
eventually, as it grows darker and tighnari’s done cleaning up, the two rangers having gone into their agreed upon shared tent, he decides it’s a good time to head to bed as well. he heads into his own tent, unbeknownst to the next events about to occur.
you’re burning.
it feels akin to a fever, but you don’t feel sick. your mind feels a little fogged, but there’s one thing clear. you want to go see tighnari.
you exit your tent, stumbling a little. you stop outside his as you knock on the rock outside to alert him of your presence, hoping he won’t be too annoyed with you waking him up like this.
strangely, he seems to be awake already, and he unzips the tent rather quickly.
“(name)…” he mumbles, trailing off as you hug him. your skin’s unnaturally hot.
he hugs you with hesitancy. “i think someone put something into the soup.”
you nod, resting your head in his neck as he sighs.
“i think… i think you should go back to your tent,” tighnari says, but his actions betray him as he holds you tighter.
you simply shake your head no before adding, “can we sleep… in the same tent tonight?”
“you know that’s…”
you look up at him, conflicting emotions clear on his face as he brings a hand to the back of your head.
“please?” you ask again. he looks pretty, the moon shining over him as your heart pumps so fast with his.
something in him folds as he nods his head.
“… fine.”
he lets you go, the second he does so inviting emptiness as you sigh from the sudden flood. you enter the tent first as he holds the flaps open for you, following behind as you get comfortable on his bedding.
tighnari comes over and, despite his best efforts not to, goes back to holding you as he did before.
you think to yourself, with the last parts of your mind unclogged, maybe he’s only acting this way because of whatever was in the soup. you know you aren’t, considering your feelings for him, but that gives you the willpower to break out of his hold and sit upright.
he sits up too, confusion apparent on his face.
“i… don’t want you to go back to your original self tomorrow morning and regret the previous night.” you find yourself saying.
tighnari simply cups your face, eyes looking into yours.
“i’m immune to whatever was put in the soup. i feel… as normal as i can be right now.”
tighnari will regret tomorrow morning no matter what. but he’d do it again. and again and again and again, because he let himself fall like this.
“you mean it? then…” you can feel your own hands move to his shoulders, to the sides of his neck.
“i do.”
you’re now close, so close your lips would brush together with the smallest movement.
you both close the paper-thin gap at the same time. you relish in the satisfaction it gives, kissing tighnari like he’s a lifeline. almost desperate, untying.
you only break away to tell him, “i love you.”
tighnari, having heard those words so many times with the words being forbidden if from his mouth, responds very clearly.
“i love you, too.”
and he dives in again.
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
intimidating, to say the least, considering his large stature. his easygoing, carefree nature helps smooth over any existing problems, reliable in any scenario, even if it’s gone haywire.
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
he’d never be able to pinpoint when and where you first began growing closer, just knowing you did at one point and its growth ever since. he finds himself doing all sorts of things unbefitting of a leader, from zoning out even more during paperwork to let thoughts of you accompany him instead to him sometimes trailing down to your lips to imagine what’d it’d be like kissing them. he’s smitten, yearning. to follow you would be irresponsible, however, dismissing how much he wants to do so anyways.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
there was only one bed.
you and varka were on a mission, one that would take at least a couple days. it required a place to stay, a place that only had a few rooms left, all with a sole single bed.
it was a bit of a tight fit, considering the man next to you taking up a large chunk of the space. you’re unable to lie next to each other without your arms touching, the heat emanating making you want to kick the blanket on top of you to the floor.
“you alright? the offer still stands, y’know.”
you peek over at varka in his simple tight fitting shirt and lounge pants, sitting up and gazing at you.
this is the first good clear look you’ve gotten of him since he changed and, of course, you’re stunned.
you only look away when he smirks. you expect a small quip or tease, but instead he stays quiet, only lying back down and sighing.
this was varka lately. less boisterous, less carefree, acquiring a mulling mindset that allowed him more space.
your first guess at the cause of the shift was that it was a personal problem, something you avoided questioning him about while still giving your own support; only to realize it wasn’t that easy.
you remember him still laughing, normal, around jean that one night in the tavern.
it made you recognize, he was only different with you.
two weeks you’ve seen him as his usual self around others, only abnormal around you.
your expression changes as varka sighs, your heart slowly falling to your stomach. you sit up this time, the sheets pooling around you as you inhale slowly, letting go a drawn out exhale.
“did… i do something?”
varka takes a few to respond, the silence, even though brief, making you sweat all the same.
“pardon?”
you place a hand to your heart, feeling it beat erratically against its cage as you sneak a glance at him.
“for… the past couple weeks, you’ve been acting strange. and please, don’t play dumb.”
varka lifts himself up to mirror your stance, silent for a good couple seconds, probably contemplating his responses before he caves.
“can’t get anything past you, can i?” he says with a gruff chuckle, more to ease the tension than out of humor.
you look over at him, fully. a look of uncertainty plays on his face, a cruel dance.
“so, what did i do?”
he shakes his head, albeit hesitantly. it almost scared you, how incongruous he was being, how unsure. “i… can’t say.”
you swing your legs over the bed.
“… fine.” you wince at how harsh the word came out, making you backtrack. “sorry. i’m gonna go check to see if any other rooms opened up.”
before you can push yourself off the sheets, you feel the bed dip as varka grasps your wrist.
“wait. sorry. i… i need to show you something.”
he waits until you’re facing him before continuing, hushed voice reaching your ears as a whisper. “i don’t want you beating yourself up about this, so pay attention, yeah? this is supposed to be a secret.”
he trails his hands to yours, holding them delicately with his. as he shuts his eyes, a glow begins to surround his body, a warmth that seeps in you through your connected, intertwined fingers.
two giant wings flap from his back, knocking the pillows on the bed to the floor and scattering the items on the nightstand nearby, finally being recalled to relax as he opens his eyes to peer into yours.
“… varka?”
“i’m a cupid. you’ve heard of those, haven’t you? listen. cupids… aren’t allowed to be in a romantic relationship. and i… caught feelings. for you.”
your eyes soften as you listen, tightening your grip on his hands ever so slightly like he could disappear at any moment— which, you suppose, he really can.
“my plan was to distance myself, at least a little at a time. but, i’m a weak man, aren’t i? i shouldn’t even be telling you all this, but… i couldn’t see you so down because of me.”
“… i think a lot of people would disagree that you’re weak, you know.” you breathe, a little loss for words, a lot confused.
“only for you,” he murmurs, less focus in his eyes, yet still aware of how dangerous the current situation is, you’re sure. “only for you.”
you laugh, bittersweet while throwing out a rhetorical. “why did you tell me, confess to me, when i’m not even allowed to have you?”
varka glides a hand to your chin as he barks out a curt laugh, tilting your vision up to look at him.
“i’m yours,” he leans a bit closer, wings enclosing you in an embrace. “it’s wrong, this is so wrong. but… you’re alluring. in a way i can’t ignore. it feels irresponsible, but if you felt the same way…”
you lean forward, landing your lips on his.
it’s sweet, slow, breathless all the same.
you can feel varka’s hand fall from your chin down to your waist, pulling you closer to drink your lips.
it’s risky, unsafe. but with your lips moving against his, he won’t, can’t, find himself saying so.
yes, varka feels weak, almost unbearably so. weak-willed. undeniably whipped.
you separate for just a moment, enough time for you to say those sweet words, “i do— i do feel the same way.”
and varka knows for sure— he was doomed from the start.
꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱
he’s under a contract to work and doesn’t complain, even if the two jobs of slaying demons and matchmaking humans can put him some tedious and weighty stress. he does wonder if his entire life will forever consist of this. it’s… calm, but a part of him still remains restless. maybe one day he’ll be able to relax.
꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱
you work in bubu pharmacy, making you see xiao a lot. an intimate relationship was formed after being his designated caretaker for a couple of months, and eventually he revealed that not only was he an adeptus, but a cupid as well. he realized he caught feelings only after a certain conversation with zhongli.
꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱
it’d been a month.
you were confused, to say the least. what happened? did you do something? was it because of what he told you?
it seemed that no matter how hard you tried to talk to him or even see him, he evaded everything.
you still notice how empty your route going home is, however. so despite the silent treatment you’ve been given, you know that he’s alive.
but… it still hurt.
you’re busying yourself by taking stock, ready to head home as soon as you finish. it’s quite dark out, but it clearly highlights the stars in the sky. it reminds you of xiao, of the countless nights you’ve spent fussing over him; seemingly over now for a reason you don’t know.
you find yourself still, hands gripping the drawer you have open. you shut it softly, a sigh leaving you.
you suddenly feel a familiar gust of wind behind you.
snapping your head around, you see xiao. for the first time in an entire month, he’s back.
he stumbles, your arms instinctively reaching out to his to balance him. he’s warm, you absentmindedly note.
“xiao? are you…”
he tilts his head forward into your collarbone, pulling you in like you’re his sole life source. your sentence dies on your tongue, his proximity being the only thing clear at the moment.
his head’s burning, hot to the touch as you wonder what’s got him acting like this. a fever?
“xiao, lie down on your bed.”
he makes no movement to do so. his grip simply tightens in reply, head shaking a “no.”
you huff and carefully guide him as best you can, sitting him on the bed as you place a hand on his forehead. it’s hot, as you expected. he shivers at the contact.
“you’re shaking.”
he nods, dryly swallowing. you notice. you straighten to go get him some water, only to be stopped by him tugging you back.
“i want you here,” he says hoarsely, voice drowning in hesitation as he keeps a hand tangled with yours.
you can feel your heart leaping into your throat.
you tug your hand away with little effort, seeing the frown that creases xiao’s face as you do so.
you give him a slight apologetic smile. “i’m getting water. i’ll be back.”
you get a glass and a damp cold cloth for his head. when you come back, he’s lying down, staring at the ceiling. he snaps out of his daze when you enter, though, and quickly sits up.
without speaking, you sit next to xiao on the bed and raise the glass of water to his lips, slightly tipping it for him to drink. he does so, albeit rather apprehensively. when he’s finished, you give him the cloth to place on his forehead. you’re about to get up, but you hear xiao say your name.
he waits until you’re looking at him before mumbling, “… i’m sorry.”
“for?”
“avoiding you for all this time. it was not a mature way to express my emotions… i… should have explained why.” he holds the cloth to his head, sighing at the small relief.
“so… what happened?” you ask.
the sheets rustle as xiao lies down. “the day i told you i was a cupid… i consulted zhongli about telling you. he said that i may have… deeper feelings for you.
“i am prohibited from having an intimate relationship with a mortal. but these symptoms i have… are alike the golden arrows that only the archons carry.”
you feel the tension building up as it sinks in, every word of his making the butterflies in your stomach stir. “you… an archon shot you? so… it’s like… they’re allowing it? and you came here?”
he shifts his gaze away from you.
“xiao, look at me?”
you come closer, hovering over his face.
he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move. he only brings a hand to your cheek, cupping your face as you near.
“may i?” you’re so close, mind dizzy as you hold his hands, one entangled with his as the other over his hand on your face.
he gives a curt nod before muttering a small, “please.”
you press your lips against his, his being hot to the touch. xiao sighs at the contact as his grip tightens ever so slightly.
you separate for just a moment, xiao chasing your lips as you do. you think that later you’ll tease him for how desperate he looks in this moment.
“i just need to make sure…” you start quietly. “you had feelings for me before you were shot?”
xiao nods. “you don’t need to worry. the arrow… only made it easier for me to tell you.”
you hum, going in to kiss him again, deeper.
and between each time through stuttered breaths, you hear him profess his feelings through three simple words.
“i love you.”
BONUS:
venti sighs, carefree and blissful.
he can pick up traces of cupids and humans here and there, obvious mixed and confounded emotions drifting all the way to him. perhaps he’ll help out later, but for now…
you trace the curves of his braids as his head stays placidly on your lap, moving delicately to his feathers that involuntarily flutter at the touch.
what would his fellow cupids say, seeing their archon in the lap of a mortal? a hypocrite he is for not following that age-old rule, for not being like his fellow archons upholding it to the fullest. or so he thinks, perhaps they too have something to hide.
summary: they meet someone who they think is pretty. pairings: ifa, ororon, flins, varka, gorou, itto, kaveh, alhaitham x gender neutral reader.
a/n: level: mischaracterisation. boss: me. c5 flins haver: also me.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
𓈒⟡₊⋆ IFA
the streets of natlan are alive, sunlight catching on shiny trinkets and banners that sway high above the bustling marketplace. children dart down the roads, laughter echoing between stalls as some cute saurians lounge lazily along the sidelines.
ifa’s out running errands again, busy as always, restocking on saurian medicine and a few other supplies which his clinic needs, when cacucu suddenly lets out a loud chirp and decides to zip away instead of staying perched on his shoulder. “later, bro!”
“what— hey! dude, you get back here!”
the tiny red qucuaurus flies between natlan’s market stalls, his little wings fluttering as he weaves through the crowd like the mischievous little creature he is. ifa follows in quick pursuit, muttering apologies as he brushes past startled vendors and random people.
and then, he cringes.
whump!
cacucu crashes headfirst into some unaware persons forehead, letting out a startled squawk as his wings flap in a frantic blur. the little dino tumbles backward midair, clearly dazed from the sudden impact.
“cacucu!” ifa shouts, worried for his little buddy and guilty to the poor victim of his clumsiness. his breath catching in his throat as he pushes through the last few steps, only to stop dead in his tracks.
you’re standing there in the middle of the street, brushing tiny red feathers from your clothing. the faintest smile ghosts across your face, confused but unbothered despite the growing red mark in between your eyebrows.
yet when you lift your head, and the sunlight hits just right. your eyes catch the gold of the afternoon, gleaming warm and soft, and for a heartbeat ifa seems to forget everything around him, his errands, the crowd, even the mess his companion had just caused.
“uh— oh no, i’m— uh— sorry about him.” ifa stammers, hand flying to the back of his neck as he tries to laugh it off. his ears are pink, and his words are tripping over themselves.
“bro! no way, bro! pretty person, bro!”
ifa’s flush somehow seems to darken even further. “cacucu—”
but the little qucuaurus isn’t done. he spins mid air, wings flashing in the light as he belts out another line, louder and far too gleeful for ifa’s liking. “so pretty, bro! you’re doomed!”
you laugh softly, a sound that feels light and genuine in his ears, and ifa swears something in his chest just short circuits. it’s a feeling that not even an experienced veterinarian like himself could comprehend.
he clears his throat, trying to reel himself back in, his cheeks dusted pink. “he, uh… tends to say things he really shouldn’t.”
“he’s honest,” you reply. “but it’s quite alright.”
cacucu lets out a triumphant squawk, wings fluttering like he’s won the battle that he himself had started. “ifa bro, they talked back!”
ifa groans under his breath, tugging the brim of his hat down to hide his face. “i’m so sorry about this guy,” he mumbles, voice muffled. “just, um… don’t listen to him.”
cacucu only cackles in reply, circling around the both of you.
you laugh again, softer this time, and crouch slightly to meet cacucu’s gaze. “i think he’s sweet.” you say, reaching out to let him perch on your hand. he chirps proudly, puffing up his chest.
ifa blinks, caught somewhere between awe and awkwardness. “ah… ya’ think so?”
you glance up at him, eyes warm. “mhm. he’s just looking out for you.”
cacucu tilts his head toward ifa, then back to you. “bro! they like you, bro!”
ifa sputters, nearly choking on air. “cacucu!”
but you’re already smiling, that smile that instantly makes one appear on his face, as you hand the little creature back. “see you around?”
you walk off, sunlight tracing your silhouette, and for a moment, he just stands there, staring like a fool. cacucu lands back on his place on the vet’s shoulder, wings flapping smugly.
“told you, bro,” he parrots, voice lilting with pride. “you’re doomed.”
ifa laughs under his breath, shaking his head. “yeah,” he murmurs, watching you disappear into the crowd. “guess i am.”
𓈒⟡₊⋆ ORORON
ororon doesn’t do nervous.
he once fought an out of control qucusaur with nothing but a hoe and a half empty bag of seeds. he’s stared down hilichurls while casually watering his cabbages. nothing shakes him.
but stepping into citlali’s home, arms full of freshly picked vegetables, only to see you sitting there, smiling, relaxed and sipping something that smells faintly of fruit and liquor, yeah. that just about does him in.
“oh, ororon!” citlali exclaims, her voice warm and slurred, cheeks rosy from her drink. “my favorite grandson! c’mere, c’mere!”
he barely manages a grunt in reply, already wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole as you glance over, eyes meeting his for just a heartbeat too long.
he steps forward, boots heavy against the wooden floor, trying his hardest not to look at you for too long. but you… stars above, you look so out of place here, in the best way. clean and polished, dressed in soft colours and finer fabric than he’s ever owned. even the way you tilt your head when he walks in feels too graceful.
suddenly, he’s all too aware of himself, the dirt under his nails, the sweat clinging to his neck, the frayed edges of his old cape. he clears his throat, his voice low.
“uh, hi, granny,” he mutters, setting the basket down gently by his feet. “ifa was busy with his clinic, so… i’m bringing these instead.”
citlali lets out a laugh, one that sounds bright and unrestrained, a far cry from her usual grumbling when sober. “oh, aren’t you sweet!” she beams, swaying slightly as she gestures between you both. “see, [name], i told you he’s a gentleman! look at him, he even grows spinach! what a catch, huh?”
ororon nearly chokes on air, ears burning as he stares hard at the basket, praying you don’t notice the way his hands fidget at his sides.
you blink, amusement tugging at the corners of your mouth as you set your cup down with a soft clink. “you grow spinach?”
“and turnips,” he blurts before his brain can catch up. his voice cracks slightly and he winces. “uh, and… beans.”
you smile, quiet laughter slipping through. “beans are my favorite.”
his ears go pink instantly.
citlali notices, because of course she does. her eyes narrow with mischievous, and before ororon can so much as shift his weight, she’s grabbed his wrist in her intoxicatedly strong grip.
“you two should talk!” she declares, dragging him toward the couch despite his clear reluctance. “maybe share bean recipes! or— or sow a garden together!”
he stumbles, nearly dropping his gloves as he’s unceremoniously shoved down beside you. his shoulders go rigid, eyes fixed firmly on the wall ahead.
citlali hums proudly to herself and takes another sip of her drink. meanwhile, ororon’s trying very hard not to combust, especially when your knee brushes lightly against his.
“granny—” he starts, voice strangled somewhere between a plea and a protest.
“stay seated, boy!” she barks, slamming her cup down with authority before promptly letting out a small burp. “don’t make me call ifa and tell him you’re scared of an attractive face!”
you try to save his embarrassment, you really do, but the laugh slips out anyway. it bubbles past your lips before you can bite it back, and ororon swears his heart just about leaps clear out of his chest. you lean in slightly, eyes still shining with amusement, and whisper, “hey, don’t listen to her. she’s a terrible wingman.”
he blinks, stunned into silence, the faintest smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. he glances down at his hands, fingers picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. his voice comes out low, barely above a mumble. “yeah… but she’s not wrong.”
citlali’s already half asleep in her chair, humming some old tune to herself, cup still dangling loosely from her hand.
and there he is, sitting beside you, awkward and flushed, shoulders tense but a smile tugging at his lips anyway. it’s small and shy, the kind of smile that sneaks up on him before he can stop it.
suddenly, the room feels warmer somehow, much quieter too, and when you glance over, you find him looking at you like he still can’t believe you’re a real person.
“um, so…” he starts, adjusting his wrist links. “…beans?”
𓈒⟡₊⋆ FLINS
it’s late. the fog drapes low over the island, thick enough to swallow even the faintest sound. the old tombstones creak and groan as the wind brushes past, and flins moves between them with his lantern held steady in his hand. the purple flame inside flickers weakly, fighting the cold that seeps into everything around him.
he’s walked this path more times than he can count, yet tonight feels different. the air is too still and the silence is too loud. even the usual whisper of the lingering spirits seems to have faded.
but when a faint motion catches at the edge of his vision, he stops. his breath clouds faintly in the air. someone’s there, half hidden between the stones, a silhouette shifting just out of reach.
flins lifts his lantern, his posture straight and voice calm but gentle enough as to not disturb the peace. “who’s there?” he calls, the light spilling across worn marble and just barely catching a glimpse of a figure.
“it’s all right,” he adds quietly when they make no further movement. “don’t hide”
when you step out from the fog, hesitant and clutching the small bouquet in your hands, nervous because now there’s someone else here with you in the dark on some spooky little island, flins exhales softly, the tightness in his shoulders easing just enough for him to lift a hand and swat at the air.
“…please return to your side of the world,” he says after a small second, his tone low as the purple lanternlight brushes against the soft lines of his face. “you do not belong here anymore.”
you blink at him startled, the grip on your flowers wilting slightly . “…what?”
for a long moment, neither of you moves, and the fog coils between you and whispers through the multiple gravestones. flins blinks too, the initial authority in his eyes faltering as he studies you properly. your face, the warmth of your breath in the cold air, the faint tremble of the flowers in your grasp.
his expression softens and the light catches in his eyes, illuminating them at the edges.
“oh.” he mutters after a small, quite awkward beat, lowering the lantern a little, the glow slipping from his face. “you are… not a spirit?” he asks uncertainly.
you stare flatly. “yeah… didn’t think i was.”
flins clears his throat, shifting his weight, one gloved hand rubbing the back of his neck. “right. yes. of course, and that is my apologies. it’s just—” his gaze flicks up again carefully, studying you like he’s afraid he’ll blink and you’ll vanish into thin air. “—you look… ethereal, and they tend to slip through from time to time.”
you raise an eyebrow, your lips twitching despite yourself. “flattering.”
a quiet sigh escapes him, his shoulders loosening as the flame between you wavers in the fog. “…it was not intended to be.” he says softly, almost under his breath, yet you hear it anyways. and it lingers, because somehow it kind of was.
for a moment, neither of you speak. the wind drifts tighter around the ground and mutes the world until it feels like there’s only the two of you on teyvet.
flins glances up again, unable to help himself. the light paints you in blues and violet, the kind of glow that doesn’t belong to the living or the dead because it’s something softer. it catches on your lashes, your skin, the curve of your mouth when you shift your weight slightly.
he’s quiet, but his eyes linger and trace details like he’s trying to commit them to his memory. when he finally speaks, his voice is much quieter than before that you nearly miss it had he not stepped closer. “forgive me,” he says, “it’s simply that you look as though the light itself might favor you.”
it’s a compliment that is both delicate and unintentional, but undeniable true. he looks away a moment later, clearing his throat as if that might undo what he’s said. obviously it does not.
you allow a small smile to form on your lips. “is that a part of your job? keeping the light… and then giving it away?”
he huffs out a soft laugh through his nose, glancing down at the lantern as its flames tremble faintly in its cage. “perhaps,” he admits quietly, “…but it seems that tonight, it has already chosen where to shine.”
𓈒⟡₊⋆ VARKA
varka truly was built like a storm. his loud laugh and heavy steps made him the kind of man whose presence seeped into every corner of the half empty angel’s share bar. even diluted by drink after drink, he was unmistakably him, the grand master, knight of boreas, and the man the entire city looked up to.
but tonight, mondstadt’s pride looked a little less like a hero and more like a man who was voluntarily drowning in some good alcohol and loud music.
he’d been chatting poor charles ear off for hours now, stories of frostbite on his toes, hunts and victories, sometimes the odd misadventure where he was stuck fighting beasts with nothing but his shoe, until finally charles shift had ended and he was able to slip away with a tired, yet relieved smile.
and that’s when you stepped in.
a quiet exchange of nods as you took his place behind the counter, towel over your shoulder, sleeves rolled to your elbows. the tavern’s golden light glowing against your skin, and before he knew it, the chatter in the corners somehow dimmed just enough that even someone as intoxicated as him were able to take notice of.
“hah… well, would you look at that,” he murmured, voice dropping low, gravelly in that way only men who’ve spent years shouting over battlefields could sound. his eyes crinkled, and a lopsided grin slowly began forming on his face. “now there’s a sight worth sobering up for.”
you glanced up, unfazed by his behaviour because you’ve seen countless people like him in your job, as your fingers were already moving over the countertop to wipe down a spill he must have made during one of his tales. “hi there. i assume you want another round?”
if possible, his grin widened at the sound of your voice. “mhm… if it means you’ll keep lookin’ at me like that, then yeah. another.”
you pour his booze, and his gaze not once managed to leave your face. his grin is dopey and warm, and the light flush on his cheeks was evident in the calm lights.
“you’re far too pretty to be workin’ here,” he says, lifting his empty mug slightly, voice loose but very much sincere. “someone ought to paint you instead. or, ah—” he pauses, gesturing vaguely with one of his massive hands as the words elude him, leaving him fumbling for a thought, “…put you on one of those, you know… fancy cathedral windows. saints and angels and all that.”
you huff a quiet laugh, sliding a refilled mug toward him. “flattery won’t get you a discount.”
he taps the counter once as a soft wordless thank you, before taking a long sip. the sound of his sigh blends with the low hum of the tavern. but when he sets the mug down again, he leans forward on his elbows, his eyes glinting as he tries to get a better view despite his blurring vision.
“not lookin’ for one,” he says. “just tellin’ the truth. knights swear oaths to honesty, might i add.”
you arch a brow. “…and to drinking?”
“…that too,” he chuckles. “but tonight, i’ll drink to you, bartender.” he raises his mug like a toast despite being the only one drinking. “may whoever you belong to know how lucky they are.”
you look at him, his cheeks flushed, grin boyish, sincerity unfiltered by rank or pride, and for the briefest moment, you understand why they call him the heart of mondstadt.
𓈒⟡₊⋆ GOROU
gorou was doing fine.
really.
the meeting had started off well enough, those long routine discussions he’d learned to navigate after years of serving under kokomi’s command. logistics, patrol rotations, supply routes, coordination between squads… nothing he couldn’t handle.
he’d even practiced the night before, pacing his tent back and forth until every word of his report was committed to his memory. he’d timed his speech, adjusted his tone, even practiced not letting his tail wag too much when kokomi praised his work.
and it had been working. kokomi was pleased, her calm voice guiding the meeting smoothly. the soldiers sat in rows, their eyes on her, their notes neat and orderly. gorou had been relaxed. alert, yes, but composed because everything was running exactly as it should have been.
until kokomi said his name.
“general gorou, please present your summary on the shoreline defense.”
“yes, ma’am.” he replied courtly, standing from his place and stepping forward, his report in hand.
…but then he finally saw you.
you were seated off to the side, not even part of the formal council if he could recall, just observing, chin propped gently in your hand, a quiet smile resting on your lips. the soft light filtering through the tent’s entrance caught the creases of your eyes, and for some reason, the world just… tilted.
you weren’t doing anything. not even a single thing. you were just sitting there, watching. yet it was enough to completely derail him.
his ears shot straight up, tail freezing mid wag.
oh no.
oh no, oh no, oh no.
his throat went dry, the neat lines of his speech dissolving into nothing.
“t-the shoreline defense is, uh—!” his voice cracked much to his horror and some of the troops amusement, who chuckled in the backline. “i-it’s, um, doing very— very fine!”
kokomi blinked, her quill pausing mid letter. “…fine?”
gorou swallowed so hard it almost hurt. “yes! i mean— not just fine, it’s— uh, stellar! the troops are, um, exceptionally… defensive?”
there was a beat of silence. a few soldiers shifted awkwardly in their seats. someone coughed.
gorou’s hands fumbled with the stack of papers he’d been holding, the edges trembling ever so slightly. he could feel your gaze now, more curious than anything yet completely unassuming, and somehow that only made it worse. his ears twitched uncontrollably, and his tail… oh archons, his tail. it twitched once. then again. and before he could stop it, it curled tight between his legs like it was trying to hide. like a puppy in trouble.
kokomi tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in that soft, knowing way of hers. “general, are you feeling alright?”
her words only made him laugh weakly. “y-yes, perfectly! i just— uh, the heat got to me a little— haha—”
it was a terrible attempt at recovery, one he failed. he could feel his face burning, the fur on his ears probably as red as the crimson banners outside the tent. one of the soldiers near the back tried to suppress a snicker, disguising it as a cough. another averted their eyes entirely, shoulders shaking.
kokomi who always stayed composed, simply regarded him with patient confusion.
and then you smiled.
just a tiny one, the corner of your lips tugging up in slight amusement, but to gorou, it might as well have been the sunrise itself. his breath hitched, and that’s when it happened.
his tail shot up, wagging furiously, a blur of movement that betrayed every ounce of composure he’d fought to maintain.
kokomi blinked with her quill still hovering midair. “…general gorou,” she said, voice calm but growing weary. “your tail.”
he froze completely. the color drained from his face. all motion ceased, ears, tail, even breathing. for a single suspended heartbeat, he looked like a statue.
and then, in the smallest, most mortified voice imaginable, he whispered.
“…i-it has a mind of its own.”
there was a beat of silence before one of the soldiers failed to stifle a laugh. kokomi’s lips twitched, not quite a smile, but dangerously close, and you were smiling fully now, warmth in your eyes that made his heart stutter all over again. gorou wanted to dig a hole right there in the sand and bury himself in it until the tides turned.
but when he dared to glance your way again, you were still watching him, and somehow that made the humiliation just a little too much to bear.
his tail however, clearly disagreed, as it gave one final, very eager wag before he ducked for cover behind the chalkboard.
𓈒⟡₊⋆ ITTO
“alright! who’s next?!”
the oni’s booming voice shook the courtyard, echoing through every corner of inazuma city. itto stood proudly in the center of the gathered crowd, hands on his hips as his laughter rumbled from his chest. beside his foot, his prized beetle, the unbreakable crimson crusher, puffed up its tiny carapace, practically preening after its latest victory against some wild bug that was probably just plucked from it’s tree minutes prior.
a ring of kids surrounded him, cheering, whining, and groaning all at once. some were his devoted little fans, shouting his name like he was some kind of beetle battle celebrity, while others sulked over their defeated bugs. a few adults looked on from the street, muttering something about “that oni again” and “why is he picking fights with children.”
itto who was oblivious as always, threw his head back and laughed. “ha! did you see that? crushed it! my little crimson crusher’s unstoppable! you kids better train harder if you wanna stand a chance against the one and oni arataki itto!”
he flexed his muscles and beamed, soaking up every bit of attention that was being thrown at him. life was good. he was unbeatable, totally glorious, perfectly balanced—
until you stepped forward.
you crouched down at the edge of the ring, quietly calm and your expression unreadable. but the moment sunlight hit you, itto forgot how to breathe. you weren’t just anyone, you were breathtaking. skin kissed by the afternoon glaze, eyes soft and posture elegant even while crouched in the dust as you put your little beetle forward.
itto blinked owlishly, then promptly forgot every single beetle battle rule he’d ever learned and made.
“uh—” his voice cracked halfway up his word, “n-not bad, uh, newbie! brave of ya to step up, yeah! but, uh, just so you know, you’re kinda… goin’ up against the best there is around here.” he puffed out his chest, flexing subtly (or not subtly at all). “no big deal or anything. y’know. champion stuff. all that jazz.”
you smiled at him politely, and itto’s grin faltered. his tail almost wagged, which was absurd because he didn’t have a tail at all. but if he did, it’d be wagging like crazy. his brain scrambled to say something cool, anything at all, but all that came out was, “I-I mean, I could, uh… go easy on ya? y’know, since you’re new. and, uh, your beetle’s kinda cute.”
he paused, and his entire face went red.
“just like you…—! wait, no! not like you, i mean yes— uh— forget I said that!”
the kids around him lost it. laughter broke out in the small crowd. one pointed at him, cackling. another whispered loudly, “big bro’s blushing!!”
“h-hey! quiet down!” he barked, trying to regain dignity he’d never really had to begin with. “this is a serious battle! serious!”
he crouched beside his beetle, whispering furiously, “buddy, you hear me? no distractions. eyes on the prize, alright?”
his beetle clicked its pinchers one, and then just… didn’t move. itto frowned. “huh? what’s the holdup—”
then he realised. his beetle was staring at yours, utterly entranced.
“…traitor,” itto muttered, mortified. “you too?”
you giggled softly, and it was enough to make him forget what embarrassment even felt like. he quickly stood up, clearing his throat a little too loudly, hands on his hips again as if sheer posture could save him. “a-ahem! alright! get ready, ‘cause you’re about to face the undefeated, unstoppable, unbelievably handsome arataki itto! the one and oni!”
he pointed dramatically, his voice booming again. the crowd cheered, your beetles clicked, and his confidence flickered back to life, at least until he risked another glance at you.
you were smiling again, sunlight glistening on your skin, fingers gently nudging your beetle forward. and just like that, itto’s heart skipped. his chest tightened, his grin softened, and he muttered under his breath, almost sheepishly.
“…man. i am so doomed.”
𓈒⟡₊⋆ KAVEH
kaveh had worked with hundreds of clients before.
arrogant scholars who thought they knew more about architecture than he did, the one with the architecture degree. self absorbed nobles who equated aesthetic with ‘cover every surface in gold until it reflects the sun like a mirror and blinds passerbys’.
and then there was those money hungry merchants who never once looked up from their ledgers and instead cut corners at every turn and asking if he could ‘make it cheaper but still look expensive’.
he’d smiled through all of it, the pomp, the greed, the endless corrections, because that was what he did. he built beauty out of ugliness, dignity out of ego, yet somehow was only barely managing to keep his reputation afloat.
but this client? you?
you were something else entirely.
from the moment you met him, you’d been… calm. your words were soft and free of the snobbery he’d grown used to over the years. you didn’t interrupt when he spoke about light and space, about the direction of shadows or the way open air could make a room breathe. you listened, literally, really listened with the ears you were given, and it threw him completely off balance.
because for once, someone wasn’t treating him like a craftsman to order around. you were treating him like an artist.
and archons, he melted a little every time you did.
now, he sat across from you in your living room. or, as he privately thought of it, your soon to be masterpiece. scrolls and sketches spread in a half organized clump across the coffee table. sunlight slanted through the tall windows, spilling gold across the blueprints and tracing along his sleeve as he pointed at the paper with the smudged pencil mark.
his voice was animated because he was excited, the kind of tone he only used when he forgot to guard himself. “so, here,” he said, tapping the design for the eastern wing, “i was thinking of adding a study, something that faces the garden. you’d have morning light, but not so much that it overheats the space. it’d be perfect for reading, working, or just… thinking, because everyone needs to do that once in a while.
you leaned closer to get a better look. a faint scent of jasmine trailed with you, and kaveh’s heart did a strange little flip. you smiled, eyes focused on the sketch. “that sounds lovely. a quiet space would be nice.”
and that’s when his mouth betrayed him.
“yeah, exactly!” he said, sitting up straighter, eagerness spilling out before his brain could catch up. “it’d be perfect for you. and when we get married, i’ll need one too, so—”
the words hung in the air for a few seconds, giving his chest enough time to close in on itself. his breath caught. his pencil froze mid gesture, and his soul briefly left his body.
oh no. oh no, oh no.
his entire face flushed, from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears, crimson blooming quickly on his skin. “w-wait! i mean— hypothetically! like— not us! just, you know, a married couple in general! a client, maybe uh, just— someone!”
his hands started flailing, as if he could physically push the words back into the air and rearrange them into something less humiliating. one nearly sent a cup of tea flying, and he caught it at the last second with a strangled little gasp.
“hah— see? i just worded it wrong! that happens sometimes when, uh— when you’re talking fast, and, ah— oh, by the seven, please stop looking at me like that…”
because you were looking at him, your lips curved into that faint, amused smile that could undo a man more effectively than any argument.
you tilted your head, eyes bright with a noticeable teasing glint in the orbs. “when we get married, hm?”
he groaned softly into his hands, muttering under his breath, “i’m never living this down.”
but the corners of his mouth betrayed him, curving helplessly upward. when he finally dared to peek through his fingers, your smile hadn’t faded, if anything, it had softened, warm enough to rival the afternoon sun.
and for all the mortification twisting in his chest, kaveh realized something startling.
if embarrassing himself like this made you smile like that… maybe it was worth every second.
𓈒⟡₊⋆ ALHAITHAM
the library was silent, just the occasional soft turning of his pages, the faint hum of candlelight beside his herbal tea, and alhaitham’s own breathing. his attention was deep in a text on comparative linguistics when a somewhat disturbing crash echoed through the marble halls.
he didn’t even look up at first. perhaps a stack had toppled. perhaps one of the junior scholars had dozed off again and fell out of their seat. but then came another sound, a clatter of books, a low thud, and then finally, a small and pained “ow.”
he exhaled slowly, closing the book with care. of course.
it was late. most of the akademiya had emptied hours ago. and yet somehow, chaos still managed to find him. marking his place in his book with a small slip of paper, he stood and made his way toward the noise. he could have walked faster, sure. but whatever the reason for the noise probably wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
because turning the corner, he found the culprit.
you.
half buried in a heap of fallen tomes, pages tousled and expression dazed, the picture of complete disaster amid the polished order of the library.
for a long moment, he said nothing, instead choosing to simply assess. no visible concussion. no broken limbs. just embarrassment, and from the looks of it, several paper cuts.
“…are you quite alright?” he asked finally, as if he were confirming an equation rather than showing concern to someone who clearly needed some assistance.
you blinked up at him, eyes lidded. “um— yes. i think so. just… a little started, i think...”
his gaze flicked toward the collapsed shelf, then back to you. “startled,” he repeated flatly. “right. i suppose gravity is startling the first few times one encounters it.”
you gawked. “i didn’t… it wasn’t my fault. i just leaned—”
“—against an unsecured shelf?” he finished for you, cutting you off and crossing his arms. “a bold decision, considering the laws of physics remain undefeated to this day.”
you opened your mouth to protest, then shut it, realizing how ridiculous it sounded to argue with logic itself. or perhaps with this man in particular.
he crouched down, brushed aside a particularly heavy novel that had been resting on your shoulder, and straightened up again.
“stand up.” he said simply. you hesitated, then reached for his outstretched hand. his grip was firm to where it made you feel weightless for a second as he hauled you up, even if his expression didn’t soften in the slightest.
once you were upright, he glanced at your hands, his eyes catching on the thin red lines across your skin.
“…you’ve managed to injure yourself with literature,” he murmured, brows lowering just slightly. “that’s impressive.”
a laugh spilled from your lips, only to soon be followed by a small wince as you made the poor decision to wipe your palms on your thighs. “i… i guess i have a talent for it.”
he tilted his head, faint amusement ghosting across his porcelain face. “if so, it’s a useless one. try cultivating something more practical next time.”
you smiled, and to his mild surprise, he didn’t find it all that irritating. instead he sighed, and stepped a little closer. and for someone who wanted nothing more than personal space, this was a feat. “sit.”
you blinked. “what?”
“your hands,” he said, his tone clipped yet not entirely unkind, in fact, he was already retrieving a silk cloth from his pocket. “they’re bleeding. small cuts or not, it’s unsanitary.”
you sank into the nearest seat, still a bit stunned. “you carry a cloth for, what, emergencies?”
“no,” he replied, kneeling beside you to gently dab at your bleeding fingertips. “i carry it because books are often older than the people who read them. they deserve careful handling, and because some people, evidently do not.”
you bit back another laugh. “are you saying i don’t deserve careful handling?”
he glanced up, sharp eyes catching yours, a faint glimmer of dry humor in their depths. “i’m saying you must require supervision.”
his touch was a clear sign that he was no medic, yet was still somehow careful. his hands moved slowly as if he were tending to something far more delicate than mere paper cuts.
when he finally sat back, he murmured quietly, following the general number one rule of a library. “there. try not to bleed on the manuscripts. some of them are rare copies.”
“…thank you.” you said quietly.
he nodded. “…sure. just see that it doesn’t happen again.”
he turns to leave, and falls back into his quiet space. yet when he returned to his desk, the words on the pages seemed to blur, his focus waning for the first time in hours. every few minutes, his gaze drifted back towards where you now sat, clean fingers tracing the spine of a book, head tilted slightly as you read.
he told himself it was just vigilance, that he was only ensuring you didn’t destroy another shelf in the one place he cared about most.
but when you smiled faintly to yourself, the corner of his mouth almost, almost, curved upwards too.
"I genuinely can't believe YOU got yourself folded"
"ugh...im grovelling in shame as is, please don't amplify my predicament further..."
you dragged him by his collar like a mother cat would hold her kitten except the said kitten is your literal hunk and bulky boyfriend
you sat him down 'neath the shade of a big oak tree. "how did this even happen?" you look at all the wounds littering his arm and a few cuts and bruises on his thighs
"I got two answers which one do you want?" you looked at him funny. "the honest one" you scoff as you tear down bandages and wrap it around the wounds after sanitising them with iodine you keep in your back pocket
"got distracted as I suddenly remembered last night" "WHAT?" sure last night with him was a little more steamy than usual cause you two met after a really long time again. "What made you remember that??" you asked confused at your jaw slacked to the floor
"I caught your scent in the wind" he gave you that lopsided smile when he would either say or do something which he knew would make you flustered. "God you're insane..." you didn't bicker with him further as you saw the red blush that dusted his cheeks and the gloss in his eyes.
"come one babe let's get you home..." you sighed and something told you this is not the only time its gonna happen...
