#xzho-rambles

you cover each other’s weaknesses so perfectly that the scene almost looks choreographed- a dance of death, fatal only to those close enough to the performance.

he hits hard but you hit faster. you strike high, he swerves low. a twist, a single turn, and all of a sudden your backs are pressed close together.

hot. flushed.

one sidestep to the right and he’s already covering the area you’d just left, a heavy claymore swinging down in a blaze of crimson to cut down whoever dared to attack you. his flames lick at your sides, but they never burn.

this feeling, the constant rush of heat and adrenaline, of safety, it’s—

it’s addictive. thrilling. that’s what it is.

these unspoken vows of protection.

you could get lost in the beat of metal clashing upon metal, to the melody of your shared grunts and hastily-spoken warnings.

oh, archons could you get lost in this duet of life and death. to lose yourself to these familiar steps and drown in the sensation of lulling flames would be a fate you’d almost willingly resign yourself to.

but it’s unintentional, this dance. it goes unnoticed by the performers but onlookers can see just how well you two synergise.

subconscious coordination.

perhaps that’s why he always agrees to pair up with you on these missions. with anyone else he’d scoff at the mere thought, for what is a partner but only a hindrance, a liability?

no, you’re neither. not to him.

because he knows that no matter the situation, you’d always have his back just as he had yours.

a silent promise for the oblivious.

eyes of molten gold shot her a glare, and a large tail swatted at her shoulder.

“i am not.”

“ah, is that so?” there was a lilt in her voice that morax did not like. she shot him another of her mischievous smiles before sliding off the rock she was perched on and began making her way towards a certain adeptus washing their weapon by the nearby stream.

morax’s heart jumped to his throat at her actions, a clawed hand immediately pulling her back by the wrist. she giggled once more.

“what do you think you’re doing?!” he whisper-yelled.

“i’m helping you, old friend! celestia knows teyvat would end before you confess your undying affections to them, and i’d very much like to witness that event before that happens!”

before the young goddess could continue to berate the prime of the adepti, you had already turned towards the pair with quizzical eyes after having heard the commotion.

you flashed a grin at your close friends, and waved your hand in greeting.

cute, he thought.

morax had never wanted to fling himself off a cliff so badly. a cliff that he had formed himself, too. he let her wrist go with a huff of embarrassment.

zhongli’s idea of being playful with you is suddenly leaning against your frame. it’s a gradual pressure at first.

at first.

you giggle at his antics but then realise that, oh, he’s shifting more and more of his weight onto you. frantic arms flail in the air as you try to stabilise the both of your swaying bodies.

“z-zhongli!” you yelp.

your mischievous fiend of a beloved only chuckles heartily, a cheeky grin on his face.

“we’re going to fall—!”

a squeal bursts from your lips as the both of you topple under his weight. expecting to meet with the hard wooden floor, you brace yourself for the oncoming impact but no such feeling came.

instead, you’re swathed in zhongli’s arms and land on what you know to be his chest. heart jumping from the fall and senses engulfed by his familiar scent, you hear the man continuing to laugh below you.

“you know i’d always catch you, dearest,” he manages between each chuckle.

it’s a laugh that shakes his whole body- rumbling away at the confines of his chest as he nuzzles into your hair.

“diluc, please! you’re worrying me!” you plead in desperation, choking on the bile rising in your throat due to the anxiety pooling in your gut as you try to chase the evasive ragnvindr.

it drips- drip, drip, drips until it’s the only thing filling your senses.

a hand blindly reaches out to take hold of his wrist but the redhead snatches it back as if you’ve burnt the very boy who controls fire.

it seems all you can do is try to reach him with your voice, no matter how it trembles and shakes with your fruitless effort. you gulp and notice just how dry your throat is.

“you’ve been acting so strange ever since you walked back through those wooden doors! what the hell happened out there?”

breathe, you command yourself. there will never be any positive outcomes from a screaming match.

get yourself together.

you get hurt by some fool and this is how some genshin boys would react:

edit: [ link to full fic ]

diluc would see red and make a beeline towards you. his face is all but calm; a deep frown mars his face and the glare he sends the man who dared to lay his hands on you is fatal. what’s most frightening, however, is the infamous black and red claymore materialising in his hands.

your attacker is visibly shaken.

“o-oh yeah? what’cha gonna do, pretty boy?”

“don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”

(more utc!)

he doesn’t have to look to know who’s disrupting his lonesome.

“scara…?”

he doesn’t bother to face them either. his tense muscles are inconceivable, but you’ve wandered across teyvat with the man for long enough to discern these minute details.

gentle hands place themselves on his shoulders, willing him to turn towards you.

he’s pliant, you notice immediately. doesn’t shake away your presence. it boosts your confidence by just a notch, but it’s enough to urge you to tilt his head up by his chin to direct his gaze unto yours.

“hey,” you coo. gentle.

the balladeer struggles to hold the intimacy of such a gesture, and so he settles for hiding his face in the crook of your shoulder.

there’s a whisper; a faint breath along the column of your throat.

“-osable.”

you toy the with short purple strands at the base of his neck, coaxing him to repeat what you had just misheard.

“hmm?”

he huffs, short and gruff, but repeats himself a little louder nonetheless, and what you manage to comprehend tears a little lesion in your heart- the heart that you had devoted to the very person tucked into your embrace.

“do you think me disposable?”

it feels like a slap to your face- like someone’s just ripped your fickle heart only to place it back and tear it apart again. you can’t help but shake your head instinctively, gathering him tighter in your arms.

“oh darling…”

scaramouche despises the familiar stinging feel of tears threatening to spill past his lower lash at the hushed tone of your voice- at the immediate sense of comfort that you, and you alone, bring his aching soul.

shaky arms wrap themselves around you like a lifeline. like you’re the only thing keeping his ruined self together.

“kaeya, i swear to the archons if you don’t stop messing with-”

“come now, diluc! that’s no way to behave,” tuts the cavalry captain with a jovial voice. “think of the children, of poor little klee waiting for their knight in shining armour! i’m sure there’s another person just dying to see you in this new—”

a muffled smack resonates in the air and you swear you hear kaeya snickering.

the curtain flies open with a whoosh not too long after and out steps your beloved pyro wielder. a large grin makes its way onto your visage as you jump up excitedly from your seat in the waiting room.

“diluc!”

kaeya pushes his brother forward with his hands plastered on his shoulders, his own catty smile on his lips.

“doesn’t he look rather dashing?”

you inspect your boyfriend with stars in your eyes and hone in on the pink flush across his porcelain cheeks. on the masterfully tailored suit of his new attire, and on his silky carmine strands tied into a neat high ponytail.

the young ragnvindr shrinks into himself at your scrutiny. he’s never been one for attention and your eyes on his figure makes him feel like a schoolboy standing in front of their crush.

a crush that was already his, he reminds himself dumbly.

diluc coughs into his hands in an attempt to dissipate the growing heat in his cheeks.

“let’s get this over with,” he grumbles as he tugs you along by the wrist gently, of course, behind him.

you can’t help but giggle at his obvious embarrassment. kaeya joins in with your amusement, laughing and smacking his hand on his knee.