hey! very new blog and also very new to posting! i'm still learning, so some stuff may take some time to sort out and look nice (also if i decide to actually continue this and not make it a one-time post kind of thing) :DDD
i'm already grateful if you've clicked on my profile and i'm hopeful i'll make this a fully-fledged blog!
update: not so new anymore, but still haven’t managed to make a new introduction post :’) i promise it will come out soon!
requests are also open! rules can be found here
i don't know how many i'll get, but i'll definitely try to fulfil them to the best of my abilities!
summary: lyney would share his deepest secrets with you, if only you'd ask
contents: ooc probably (do i care? no. do i love men being down bad? yes.), pining!lyney (he basically is too in love), fluff, gn!reader, pre-relationship
cw: a tiny allusion to violence
recommend listening to: ur so pretty by wasia project
a/n: hehe have some lyney before i disappear again
Being a magician, Lyney is certainly no fool to distractions or tricks. What he can be fooled by, however, is something that he certainly cannot control–not that he’d want to anyway.
He can’t help it if he dreams of your hands, how he’d be able to cradle them in his own and be able to gaze into your eyes with too much adoration for him to contain, and he’d be able to spill all sorts of ‘I love yous’ that fall so easily from his lips, it would be like he’d been born to utter them.
He can’t help it if he dedicates all the nights staring out above the city and up into the sky to you–and how he’d count all the stars in the night if it’d make you happy, no matter how long it’d take.
He can’t help it if, when you talk to him, he goes red, trying to contain the ever-present grin that somehow still leaks out at the sides, making his mouth lopsided. It’s not like he cares. Seeing you is always worth it.
Lyney’s feelings find themselves overflowing with devotion, too much for him to properly handle, but it feels too good for him to let go.
It’s nearly every day when he thinks about him confessing his utter love for the way you say his name, for the way you maintain eye contact, for the way you smile so lovely at him, for the way he’d get down on one knee and say that his heart lies in your hands, and even if you plucked it apart, piece by piece, he’d be grateful that you were the one to be there until its last breath.
People say there’s no such thing as love at first sight, but Lyney proclaims that he’s experienced it firsthand, because ever since you’ve met, he’s only been able to think of cooking for two, only been able to think of gifts that, conspicuously or not, loudly cry for your attention, not unlike himself.
He flirts, he charms, he blushes, and yet he can never seem to come out with the very words that open the locked doors that guard your heart.
He notices your reactions, whenever you invite him out, when you peer with interest at seeing a certain item on sale, and when your eyes light up when he surprises you with a goofy grin, gifting you that same certain item (plus a couple more), because no matter how much, he somehow has that little bit of change that’s always there.
Always there. He likes to think that his love is always there. There when you cry, and there when you laugh, and there when you’re having an afternoon drink with him, and there when he gazes at you when you’re talking about something that you like and when he thinks that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on. Even though you don’t truly know how far his love goes.
In fact, you’ve only seen Lyney upset once in your life.
The weather in Fontaine is unpredictable–rainy one moment and then sunny the next–and it just had to be the one day you forgot bring an umbrella. You had arrived at the Café Lucerne sopping wet, drenched to the bone with moisture that made you feel all icky and cold. Lyney was seated at one of the tables, and you headed towards him, only for his eyes to widen. He questioned you sharply, asking how you were, why did you go in the rain, why did you not bring an umbrella, why did you come and not seek shelter?!
What if you got sick?!
His voice, usually so cheerful and amiable, now panicked and distressed. Not even waiting for an answer, his hand frantically grabbed yours, rushing the both of you to his abode, where you were forced to take a shower and take some spare clothes.
Lyney then questioned you again–only once you were safe and with a hot drink, of course–and when you replied that you wanted to see him, his heart strained and his eyes softened.
Oh, what you do to this magician! Are you trying to melt him with your words?!
You looked at him, and a very pink blush crept up onto his cheeks, leaving a burning sensation. How he managed to say anything, he still doesn’t know to this day. Maybe it was the adrenaline talking, because his voice came out breathy and uncertain.
“You scared me. I don’t want you to get sick; it pains me to see you in pain.”
His voice was quiet for once and more genuine than you’d ever heard before.
You smiled at him in response, and he thinks that everything is okay.
Ever since that day, Lyney’s sheltered a dream.
One day, he’ll lie with you under the sheets, and he’ll whisper the things he vows to do to make you happy. And when he whispers each and every thing he vows to do, he’ll kiss your shoulder, and then your cheek, and then your hands–twice for good measure–and then your lips, and he’ll shudder so softly because the feeling of your tender lips against his erupts mini-fireworks in his stomach.
And then when you fall asleep, he’ll let his eyes scan the very person he’s willing to do anything for, and he’ll see the stars in your veins, and he’ll say to you in your sleep that even the number of stars in the sky can’t compare to the number of things he can love about you.
Lyney may be a magician, but there's no tricks or misdirection in how pure his feelings are, much like a singular white dove.
a/n: tell me if this is getting too repetitive i somehow always do this format without even thinking 😰 i’m a sucker for this style though 😻 likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated !! 🩷🩷
summary: ayato likes boba, but he loves you even more
contents: fluff, humour, lightheartedness all around, ayato is down bad, gn!reader (use of they/them pronouns), reader really likes boba sorry if you don't like it (bobalover!reader), quite dialogue adjacent
cw: food
a/n: longer than usual, but i thought it was a really cute twist on the olive theory and just ran with it! @ibitekaeya i promised i would write more ayato :)
wc: 1.4k
Ayato can feel your gaze on him. But strangely, he doesn’t feel it on his face, nor his arms, nor his, ahem, behind (which you, for some reason he pretends not to know, seem to like looking at). No, he feels it on one of his gloved hands, the other one presently holding one of yours. But even then, no, that doesn’t seem right either. So what could you possibly be staring at?
Oh.
It’s his boba. The smooth, creamy milk tea of his dreams combined with chewy tapioca pearls creates a sensation that’s refreshing for his palate and also soothing to the throat. It’s really quite a perfect drink to enjoy at all times, even when it’s cold out. You also seem to agree, given how you’ve been looking at it the whole time on your walk through the street.
He can’t help but feel a little jealous. It’s one of the rare off days he gets, and you’re more interested in his boba than him? The betrayal. Sure, it may be somewhat (and he’d like to stress the somewhat) childish of him, but what’s he got to do to be able to receive some attention? You haven’t even noticed how his eyes have drooped slightly, or how his smile is ever so strained around the corners of his mouth, or how his grip has tightened, which is causing some pearls to slowly creep up the cup…
“Ayato!”
He startles, his grip lessens, and those sweet, sweet tapioca pearls are saved for today. And his dignity, you guess.
“Yes? Was there something you saw that interested you? I’ll gladly pay for it.”
“No, it’s just that your boba was going to spill–you were gripping it so tightly.”
“Oh.”
He silently thanks the Electro Archon. It’s only the second date, and he’s not sure whether he’d be able to handle the late nights in his bed replaying the horrifying moment of his boba spilling all over his clothes while his crush looks on. He’s cringing just thinking about it. Sure, he’d be able to play it off, but hotpot nights would definitely be a little more intense. Maybe she also has a fondness for similar milk-based drinks?
To steer the conversation away from embarrassing moments, an idea strikes, and he ushers you towards a nearby stall on the street, one that gives off a slightly sweet scent.
“A boba tea, please.”
The vendor’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of Kamisato Ayato ordering a simple drink, and while with a supposed significant other?! Just know that the rumours will be spreading as soon as you leave the stall–not that they’ve not started already.
“Right away, sir.”
You look at Ayato questionably. He already has a boba, so why would he need another one? Similarly to the vendor’s expression, your eyes also widen, although much more subtly than the person shyly peeking up to grab another glance at the esteemed Yashiro Commissioner.
Without even having to look at you, Ayato chuckles again, but with something akin to fondness.
“You’ve guessed it. It’s for you. I would offer you mine–I don’t really like it anyway–but I doubt you’d want it with all my saliva.”
The white lie falls off his tongue as if he were actually telling the truth.
He turns to hand the vendor some cash, but before he can properly give it over, you grab his hand and shake your head.
“It’s mine, right? So I should pay. I’ve paid for stuff in the past when we’ve been together; it doesn’t matter whether we’re on a date or not.”
He hesitates, then retracts his hand. He then smiles–one that lifts the corners of his eyes, and one that reveals the crinkles of his mouth.
“Of course. If that is your wish.”
You proceed to give the vendor some cash and take the boba from their hands. If only you were looking at Ayato instead.
“Your patronage is greatly appreciated!”
Walking away, Ayato dips his face towards your ear and whispers softly, his hot breath tickling your neck.
“Is this your first time?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“A secret for our next date.”
He winks. You can feel the blush spreading across your cheeks. Why did he have to be this attractive? To cool yourself down (and to avoid keeping eye contact), you decide to take a rather large gulp of the drink, which even Ayato is slightly concerned about.
“Don’t drink too violently. The pearls could get stuck in your throat, and I don’t think either of us would appreciate a surprise trip to the doctor’s on only our second date, hm?”
You nod absentmindedly, but then the flavour hits your tongue. And then your eyes light up in a way that makes your whole face glow. As you chew on the tapioca pearls, a smile grows on your face, which widens as time goes on. The soothing sensation! The mesh of textures! The subtle sweetness! What a delight to experience!
All the while, Ayato’s now the one staring at you with widened eyes. The look on your face is nothing short of extraordinary. Something in his heart stirs. Seeing you this happy, he’s now certain of the fact that whatever you ask for will be granted if the smile that graces your features is one that he gets to experience. It’s somehow only now that he realises you really have him wrapped around your pretty little finger. His eyes crinkle.
“You never fail to amaze me.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Please, carry on.”
–
It’s been a few months since that incident, and Ayato still recalls it fondly whenever he’s feeling down or for motivation to finish his work quicker so that he’s able to spend some much-needed quality time with you. He smiles softly, chuckling at the expression he so vividly remembers. The look on your face is so endearing that he wonders how lucky he must’ve been when his ‘hunch’ ended up being the source of one of his most cherished memories.
“What’s so funny?”
Your question grounds him in reality as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you towards him.
“How I’m looking forward to beating Thoma in our hotpot game today; the look on his face will truly be something… hehe.”
You roll your eyes, but before you can respond, said housekeeper walks in, carrying a tall drink of boba. You gasp a little, something only Ayato can hear, and he grins. However, said housekeeper also adds a message that makes his heart not-so-subtly skip a beat.
“My lord, here’s your boba that you requested. It’s your favourite flavour too.”
Thoma then sends a greeting your way, which you reply to with a grin. A pause, and then Ayato hears what might possibly be the loudest laugh you’ve ever let out.
“Good joke, Thoma! I even believed you for a second there. He even told me yesterday how much he disliked it. It’s quite sweet, actually. He always has one with him so that even if we’re not near a drinks vendor, I can still have one, even if he’s not expecting me to be there.”
Thoma awkwardly laughs along, sending questioning looks towards Ayato, to which he responds with a smile that contains little to no mirth at all. Through gritted teeth, Ayato also laughs, although it sounds much more like a bark than a proper chortle.
“Darling, could you excuse Thoma and me for a quick moment? I promise we won’t be long.”
Poor Thoma.
“Oh, sure. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Ayato strides deftly out of the room, with Thoma following behind. He also doesn’t want you to notice the faint heat that he feels spreading across his ears.
“My lord, what are you talking about? Everyone in the Kamisato Estate knows how much you like boba.”
Ayato sighs.
“Their happiness is the one thing I hold most dear to my heart. If that means sacrificing some… drink, albeit one that I also hold dear, then I would not hesitate to purge it from my diet. They make me do foolish things to my heart, and subsequently make me do foolish things in return.”
Thoma is left stunned, while Ayato swiftly dismisses him to go back inside. He does turn back, however, and gives him a smile that never means good things.
“I’m looking forward to our hotpot today. Make sure to be sufficiently prepared.”
Poor Thoma.
Ayato pads in quietly, his footsteps silent as a cat’s, but pauses. He lets his gaze linger on your satisfied expression, and his ears pick up a pleasant hum. How wonderful. How so, so wonderful you are. When the time comes, he guesses he’ll have to reveal the grand truth, but for now, he’s perfectly content basking in your happiness.
What you do for love.
a/n: likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated!! 💙 (blue for ayato)
contents: fluff, established relationship, gn!reader, kaveh is so hopelessly in love, character driven
cw: nothing i can think of, tell me if you find any!
recommend listening to: let you break my heart again by laufey + philharmonia orchestra
a/n: happy belated birthday kaveh 🎉🎉, more at the end
To find something beautiful is entirely subjective. One person may argue that the depths of the sea contain all the beauty of the world, whereas another would argue the stars. On certain days when the moon hangs low or when the light streaming through the stained windows at Puspa Café hits his wine at an angle, Kaveh likes to ponder this topic. Flowers blooming, the desert sand glimmering, eyes smiling. Beautiful things.
None quite as beautiful as you.
Call him superficial; call him an aesthete; call him yours. If Kaveh is the light of Kshahrewar, then you can be the butterfly to his sunlight, so he can hold you in his hands and bask in your attention. He wonders what colour your wings would be, how they would unfold, and how he would stare at them in awe, mesmerised. But you don’t need wings to lure him in, nor do you need anything more. Because if he is the light of Kshahrewar, then you are his muse, his own solace in a world of sorrow.
In architecture, there are several components that make up even a miniature wooden box, let alone a palace made out of brick and concrete. But no matter how complicated, no matter how long the hours spent, no matter how frustrating, a palace was created as a palace, and that will never change. On the other hand, what constitutes a ‘home’? Can you have multiple? Is it something you can create and then mould, or is it something that evolves and transforms itself? Grandiose staircases and lofty ceilings seemingly mean nothing if you can’t hear echoing laughs and joyous gasps.
Kaveh thinks that he may have an answer. A ‘home’ is people. Good people, who care for each other. Like when he was younger, his parents–however long gone they may be–cared for him with all the tenderness of a coddling touch. He found a home in them.
Now, this ‘home’ is you.
As idealistic as Kaveh is, there are no lofty assurances he swears that float just out of reach. Because what he whispers quietly in your ear late at night, he vows to keep. On his life, which seems that much brighter with you.
“Whatever you wish for, I’ll give.”
He kisses your shoulder. You laugh softly. You can’t count the many times he’s lured you into a slumber through the aid of sweet nothings and comforting touches. But as you turn around in his arms, the laugh manages to get caught in your throat. Kaveh isn't laughing back. There is adoration in his eyes, yes, and there is devotion in his gaze, yes, but there is something else–something special–that makes you wonder whether you’ve underestimated the depth of his feelings. The bed makes a slight creak as his face comes closer.
“You have no idea how much I’m in love with you.”
He’s telling the truth. The beginning of a solid house starts with a solid foundation, which is then built upon. Kaveh is the foundation to your house, and he would gladly let you grow and flourish from his dedication, if only you’d let him. From your house stems a home that contains all that he cherishes, from the gleam in your eyes to the smile that he’d frame with the slight tilt of your chin. An architect should be able to indulge in all that they find breathtaking, which, for Kaveh, he has the privilege of being able to admire every day. And yet, every single day, he manages to fall for you again and again.
Kaveh promises that one day he will be able to grant all that you wish for, no matter how impossible it may be. You deserve more than the constraints of what constitutes ‘possibility’, and then will he be able to see your smile, and see his reflection in your eyes, and not notice anything else but the happiness enveloping both your bodies.
But for now, he’ll have to make do with unbreakable whispers and the feelings in his heart that beat in time with the flap of a butterfly’s wings.
He finally grins at you, never faltering in his gaze.
“I want you to know how much I truly do adore you.”
a/n: I’M BACK BABYYYYYYY, I MISSED WRITING!111!1!1! my posting schedule will now be much more regular :) as always, likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated 🩷🩷
summary: some things that i think the genshin guys cherish
contents: fluff, slight hurt/comfort in alhaitham's part, please this is basically super sweet fluff, cyno thinking about having children (implied), gn!reader
cw: teeny tiny angst if you squint a lot
recommend listening to: dance with me by beabadoobee
pairings: childe, alhaitham, cyno, diluc, kaeya
a/n: i live for fluff
childe- your loyalty
As someone who’s shown extreme loyalty to the Tsaritsa and, more importantly, to you, he expects to be treated the same. So when you turn up at the allocated restaurant for your weekly night out, his grip on the flowers he’s bought tightens, and his grin turns impossibly brighter.
In his eyes, you have no duty to serve him, no obligation, and no contract to hold his hand, yet you still do. Time and time again, he finds you by his side, smiling at him in the way he knows is only for him. In the early stages of your relationship, there came the chase, then the catch, and then the bliss. But now, even once the initial excitement has worn off and you’ve both seen each other at your worst, you’re still there. With him. And to Ajax, that means the world.
The hidden ring in his bedside table proves it.
alhaitham- your resilience
Alhaitham is not dumb. He knows that he can put off certain people due to his bluntness, but he doesn’t mind. Alhaitham also knows he isn’t a bad person, and he knows that he is an excellent scholar. More importantly, he knows how much you mean to him.
He often finds himself watching you, disguising the act under the pretence of reading his book, and thinking about all the things you’ve had to face. He finds his mind wandering, looking back on the times he’s seen you in despair and how ugly the tears cascading down your face look. You’ve sobbed in his chest, your eyes red from crying, and Alhaitham remembers how his heart burned. But then he realises that you’re still here. You’re still here. And you’re with him, with a smile that he promises, to the utmost of his abilities, will always stay.
When you catch him staring, his eyes peeking over the book, you chuckle to yourself. How adorable the Scribe looks. Letting yourself indulge in the sight for a few seconds, you turn back to your work.
You can’t see it, but he’s also wearing a soft smile. Laced with gratitude and filled with adoration.
cyno- your kindness
Upon encountering a lost child in the middle of the Grand Bazaar on a date, Cyno’s not exactly sure what to do. The child is obviously in distress, panicking while looking for their parents. The only thing he can think of at the moment is to tell a joke, but Tighnari’s voice pops into his head, lecturing him on how it would worsen the situation. However, he feels you move towards them, leaving his side.
You talk to the child in hushed tones, soothing and comforting in just the right way, and they calm down almost immediately. His breath hitches. He’s not sure whether to be amazed or stupefied. But one thing Cyno is sure of is that he wants to ingrain this image permanently in his mind: his heart melting at your simple act of kindness. He wants to capture this memory and store it away, somewhere that no one else but him can access, safe for eternity. Because how else is he supposed to deal with the fact that he looks maniacal, a grin spreading across his face?
Maybe he’ll distract himself by daydreaming about your future together.
His heartbeat quickens at the thought. Maybe not.
diluc- your thoughtfulness
“Diluc, this reminded me of you, so I got it. Do you like it?”
His heart seems to stutter at your words, a fiery blush spreading across his ears. In your presence, he allows himself to ease up, letting down his barriers and relaxing. Unfortunately, this also meant you had many opportunities to fluster him, much to his chagrin.
It’s a small lamp grass, the faint blue glow emanating from your hands so subtly, it would almost pass as a hydro vision. His eyes soften, gentle fingers taking the flower from your hands into his as he caresses the leaves. The flower rustles with a quiet chime, permeating the silence. The sound rings longer in his head as he struggles to formulate sentences. He opts for a different strategy.
You feel arms enveloping your waist, dragging you closer to his body. Lips kiss your forehead.
“Do you like it?”
“I love you.”
kaeya- your determination
Utter determination. Climbing the ranks of the Knights of Favonius can only be done with utter determination. Kaeya did that, and now he can enjoy drinking at night, trusted by the people of Mondstadt, allies and enemies alike. But he never seemed to expect yours. Your unwavering grit, your perseverance.
In contrast to his charming, disarming demeanour, you’re steadfast and no-nonsense. As they say, opposites attract, and oh- how attracted he is. Barely even trying to conceal it, he adores being able to stare at you blatantly until you catch on, and once you do, he perks up, concealing the gesture with a slick smile. You smile back, settling down into his arms.
Kisses litter your face, your neck, and your shoulders. He takes in your scent, his grin pressing into your neck. He’s never wanted more than to lie with you forever, and the tendrils of a thought linger at the back of his mind.
“I would sacrifice the world for you.”
“Kaeya, I have to get back to work.”
a/n: hi guys!! this was definitely shorter than usual (for multiple charas) but i really enjoyed writing them! lmk if you want a pt 2 :) likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated ❤️❤️
summary: scaramouche never considered himself to be changeable, until you came along
contents: fluff, flustered!scaramouche, softie!scaramouche, gn!reader, possible ooc (?)
cw: very small mentions of drinking, insecurities
recommend listening to : EVERYTHING by the black skirts
a/n: hi guys! 😍 thank you so so much for 300 followers, insane to me :) i've got some ideas for a special, nothing in the works as of yet (soon though, hopefully 🙏) any ideas, lmk!
Scaramouche never liked waking up in the morning. Or–more accurately–sleeping itself. He found it weak, the vulnerability that always came with it. Having to succumb to a darkness without knowing what was happening around you seemed foolish, even if he was tired out from a fight. Being a puppet meant that he needed less of it than a mortal, which–for once–made him somewhat glad of his creation. If he was in dire need of it, he would take all the necessary precautions. By which, he meant, becoming an extremely light sleeper.
He would wake up multiple times in a night, sometimes drenched in sweat (although he’d rather not admit that he’d been having the same nightmare every time he’d managed to rest), from various noises. The chirping of a cricket, the hissing of a nearby stray, the incessant slurring of the drunks who still hadn’t managed to find their way home–Scaramouche’s hatred of sleep grew by leaps and bounds. And when the sun finally rose from its slumber, so too would his irritation.
But then he found out what it was like to sleep next to you.
The first time you proposed that you share a bed, he vehemently denied anything even close to that, stating that beds were meant to be for one person only. You pointed out that those were single beds, and the one you were currently seated on was a double. He then argued back, saying he did not sleep, to which you again pointed out that you had seen him sleep multiple times. By this point, he had gone redder than you had ever seen him before, flush spread across his cheeks all the way down to his neck.
The thought of you trusting someone like him? It almost brought him to his knees. And it’s not like he didn’t want to; he’d go so far as to say that he craved it, longed for it. Because you trusting him so much that you’d put your ultimate weakness on full display, it almost made his heart explode.
“Why?”
His voice sounded fragile, cautious.
“Because you’re my lover. We’ve been dating for months; it’s a normal thing for couples to do. If not, that’s fine.”
Your voice sounded soft, understanding. His eyes met yours. And oh, how could he resist?
“Fine. You’d pester me otherwise.”
A knowing smile crept onto your face as he struggled to contain a scoff. His blush still hadn’t gone away, and he hadn’t noticed that his hands were slightly shaking. All he could focus on were the palpitations of his thundering heart and the smile on your face that made it all worthwhile.
He could never forget what it was like to sleep next to you for the first time. To hold you in his arms, although–could you even call it that? His arms were barely touching your body; he was too scared to cause even an unwanted imprint on your skin. But yours were around his waist, and he’d never felt so tense in his life. You laid there in that position for many minutes, and soon enough he could tell that you were slowly dozing off, your breaths slowing. Right before you did, you mumbled a tired goodnight, smiled up at him, and promptly went off to sleep. His breath hitched, and his arms tightened ever so slightly.
He was grateful that you were asleep, because then you couldn’t hear his heart thumping at astronomical speeds. How did he manage to end up with someone like you? He scoffs, audibly this time. You’re so dumb. You manage to make him flustered without even knowing it. And he loves it. And he loves you.
He kissed your forehead, letting it linger.
“Goodnight.”
–
When Scaramouche woke up, he was greeted with your face, still sleeping. He hadn’t even noticed he had fallen asleep. He hadn’t woken up even once during his slumber, which startled him. The reason? You. It was you. Of course it was. Stupid, stupid you. This obvious realisation forced him to face the fact that, because you made him feel so safe, his body had not felt the need to wake up even once before what was a natural time. He felt something grow in his chest.
The sun was streaming through the window, casting a soft shadow over your face. It was still early, according to the clock on his wall, so the only noises he could hear were the sounds of birds chirping their songs. Everything was quiet. This was possibly the best morning he had had in a very long time. All because of you.
Scaramouche thought that maybe he liked waking up in the morning.
a/n: can you tell i have a thing for tough guy with a soft side 😩 tysm for reading! likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💓💓
summary: ever since you were little, alhaitham knew what he wanted.
contents: childhood friends!au, fluff, ambiguous relationship at the end (although implied romantic), gn!reader (they/them pronouns used), soft soft alhaitham
cw: food
wc: 1k
a/n: so so sorry for the slow updates :') things will (hopefully !) be picking up momentum again 🤞
“Hey, Haitham.”
Your high-pitched voice calls out to him. He chooses to ignore it.
“Hey! Haitham! Are you purposely ignoring me cause you wanna read? Again?”
A crease forms at his eyebrows–an action that a nine-year-old should never have gotten used to as often as he did–and his hands tighten around the pages of his book. You always did this. Nearly every day, you would choose to sit next to him. He can’t even remember when it started, but soon enough, you had proclaimed him your ‘best friend for life’.
For a child prodigy like Alhaitham, it’s extraordinary how he has no idea why you’ve chosen him to be your designated play partner. You don’t even play like the other kids. He just sits there, reading his book, and you sit there with him, chatting incessantly about whatever it is you want–not like he cares, anyway. (It was food on Monday, an interesting flower you found on Tuesday, and food again on Wednesday.)
He’s never asked you why, and you’ve stuck with him long enough for him to be satisfied with not knowing. It’s not like he’s not curious; he just finds his books more interesting.
“Well, since you’re not answering, I guess I’ll just find someone else to play with!”
You harrumph, turning your head away. However, since you don’t make any move to physically get up, Alhaitham doesn’t look up from the slightly-yellowed pages that he hasn't noticed he's crinkling.
But then, the unthinkable happens. Legs that were previously lounging beside him begin to unfold and rise, a shadow forming over his head. It takes him the time for you to fully stand up for him to comprehend what was happening. His crease deepens further.
“Wait.”
On instinct, one of his hands that was holding onto his book clasps onto yours, his head bowed down. His fringe hides his face, which, for once–however annoying it may be–he’s grateful for, as it means you can’t see the blush readily spreading across his cheeks. Pretending to be more interested in dragon fights and swordsmanship, he all but whispers.
“Stay. I like it better when you’re here.”
Your eyes lighten up, and a large smile breaks out across your face.
“I like it when you’re with me too! And I wasn’t actually gonna leave you. I just wanted to get us some sweets!”
“Oh.”
If he wasn’t already thankful for his fringe, he definitely is now, what with the embarrassment he’s being forced to endure. You can still probably see his ears, which he can feel burning up. Not replying, he lets go of your hand–almost abruptly–and lets you skip away to the local sweets vendor that always exudes a sugary smell.
He watches you all the way. The sun’s shining brightly on your skin, making it glow. Your toothy grin still pervades his mind, and he can feel the blush on his cheeks that never seems to go away whenever you’re around. Or maybe that’s the heat. But then why is his heart doing backflips? And why do those backflips increase in speed when he looks down at the hand that was held in yours? He thinks that they fit perfectly, like two pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, and (as much as he doesn’t want to admit it) that he wants you to be around him.
“Stupid thoughts. I only tolerate them because they’re my only friend.”
He chooses to ignore the other thought that his heart seems to tell.
“They’re my only friend. But I don’t mind, because I really only care about them.”
After a few minutes, you come back with that same toothy grin, carrying an assortment of sweet treats for the both of you to devour in only a few seconds. They all blend together into a saccharine scent.
“Look, try this one, Haitham! The person said it was a new flavour!”
He accepts it immediately, taking it gently from your hand and putting it into his mouth. It explodes with flavour–nutty and aromatic, nothing like the sugary syrup of the others. A small and satisfied smile creeps onto his face, his eyes failing to hide his delight. It does get stuck, however, as he tries to get parts of it dislodged from the gaps in his teeth. A giggle interrupts him.
“Haitham, you look really funny! Y’know, I want to have a sweet shop when we’re grown up so that I can make all the sweets you want! Then we can have fun together even when we have to do grown-up, boring stuff.”
You remember to be considerate, and turn to him.
“What about you, Haitham? What do you wanna be when you’re grown up?”
–
Alhaitham doesn’t remember exactly what he said after. Probably a scholar. All he can remember is younger him staring blatantly, mouth gaping open at your questioning eyes, and his heart pounding at your mention of ‘we’. The realisation that you felt the same way as him left him astounded. In that moment, he felt something bloom in his chest, something that he’s carried all these years.
Although he’s not sure whether you ever fully understood how much of a soft spot he had for you. You never even noticed how his headphones were always on the ground, rather than on his head, whenever you were around.
Now, reading his book peacefully, he looks down at his lap and allows himself to smile. You’re going to wake up with a sore neck if he keeps you in this position for much longer, but just for a moment, he wants to admire you.
Alhaitham strokes your hair tenderly, moving it out of your face, nimble fingers caressing your jawline. His eyes soften. How much you’ve meant to him. The years that he’s known you for don’t compare to the amount of gazes he’s thrown your way, so full of youthful longing and yearning. Because ever since you said ‘we’, he’s been able to answer your question. Maybe not in the exact same way he did all those years ago, but an answer that’s been stewing for every year after.
“When I grow up, I want to be by your side.”
a/n: he’s grown on me i can’t lie 😔 enemies to lovers though 😍😍 likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated !! 🩷🩷 (pink heart for iOS finally!)
summary: cyno's experienced so much, but you're the one he'll never regret
contents: fluff, possible ooc, character-centric, gn!reader, cyno being soft
cw: none i can think of, tell me if you find any!
recommend listening to: je te lasserai des mots by patrick watson
a/n: surprise i'm back! french translates to: 'when you're with me'
Cyno yearns for a certain type of love. A love that runs so deep, flowing through the crevices of his heart; a love that softens his stares, and hardens his resolve. Cyno wants a love that takes his calloused hands in theirs, and proclaims they will stay with him as long as the stars shine above; as long as his morality never wavers; as long as he will never stop chasing this love he craves. Cyno’s never been one to indulge in such pleasures; never been one to stop and smell the roses, if given the chance. Yet- when he sees your smile- he’s reminded of dainty elegance, tenderly accompanied by a pleasant floral fragrance. He yearns for a certain type of love- a love that only you can give.
It’s the way he would do anything for you. Cyno’s a man of his own word, so what would make you think he wouldn’t? It’s a rare sight to see the General Mahamatra strolling through the Grand Bazaar so casually, but when you’re lying in bed with a cold, his eyes mingled with concern. Only the best medicine will do. And when he arrives next to you, sitting by your side, you’ll protest that he’ll get sick, and he’ll tell you a joke. It’s not going to be an extremely funny one, but you’re going to smile, and he thinks that’s all that matters.
Pearlescent sands, shimmering galaxies full of stars, fine threads on a purple headdress. You cannot count the quantity of such large amounts; you cannot begin to imagine how Cyno counts the times he gets lost in your eyes. Over and over again, patrolling the desert, idly browsing through a new set of TCG cards, he likes to think about you. Caresses of the gentlest touch, alike a feather’s soft brush against your cheek. Lingering stares, like a wolf’s piercing gaze. And with each single thought- Cyno can hear your voice in his ears- an infestation he has no desire to purge, and he knows his heart beats full.
Because even though he’s only known you for a few years in his- albeit, relatively short- lifetime, it feels as if he’s known you for longer. He may not believe in past lives, but if they did exist, Cyno’s sure that he’d search for you in every single one. And if he happened to never find you, he’d keep on searching; uncovering every rock, crossing every ocean, just seeking for your company. Because what kind of soldier would he be without the light that guides his way?
Between close confidants, closer friends, and closest allies, it’s no secret that he often makes jokes when he truly trusts you. As bad as they may be, eliciting several sighs and grimaces, they lighten the stoic atmosphere he brings with his forthcoming personality. He likes them, too, and who is anyone to dare say that they do not bring people closer together? Because you’ve known him, and Tighnari knows him, and Collei knows him, and he’s cracked pun after pun, and you’ve never gotten tired of him. Moreso, unbeknownst to you, every time he makes one, a pair eyes seemingly glance in your direction- just for a few seconds- and when they’ve ascertained there’s a gleam of amusement shining under yours, he reclines back with a satisfied smile.
Cyno likes to be near you. Your presence- it’s something that makes his heart run faster and cheeks burn up. He likes being able to sit next to you, and talk about his new TCG deck while you nod and hum attentively, not noticing how he’s staring at you so unabashedly, explaining the intricate details of his commissioned art. He likes being able to sit next to you as you both recount the memories you’ve shared, all from a simple dinner to an exhilarating chase. He likes losing track of time with you, as the sun dips down over the horizon, and the moon comes out of its slumber.
Most of all, he likes you. No. ‘Like’ carries feelings that are too shallow. Love would be a better descriptor. Unfaltering, unashamedly, bravely, hopelessly in love. Cyno’s set of scales is as ever-present as you seem to be in his head; he dares to gaze up at the desert night sky and let his heart guide his way, uninterrupted by the incessant hustle and bustle of the city. He can feel you by his side, feels your hand held firmly in his, staring up at the same glimmering stars.
It’s time to go back home.
a/n: after the windblume event quest, my mind's been so full of cyno recently and i love that we get to see a new side to him that we didn't in the archon and story quest <3 likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 🫶
hellloo!! saw that ur requests are open so I would love to make one! so I’ve recently been daydreaming about playing video games (like Mario kart or smth) with heizou and kazuha (respectively) and I would love it if you could possibly write a fic around it!! i love ur work and make sure to take care of ur self!! <3
loading... ready to play!
contents: fluff, light-hearted, established relationships, use of pet names (babe + love), gn!reader, hcs+ writing, warning for my lack of knowledge on literally every single game mentioned
cw: mentions of food
a/n: first of all, thank you so much for your eternal patience and kindess, anon, i'm so so sorry this has taken so long to fulfill (such a cute one, too) :') i sincerely hope this makes up for the wait!
heizou
would definitely definitely play mystery/ crime solving games that challenge his brain
ace attorney’s probably his favourite
he’s fr writing down every single detail in each testimony, and never gets the cross-examination prompts wrong
never gets the evidence prompts wrong, either, and if he did, would probably need a good hour or two of cuddling to get over the fact that his ‘instincts’ failed him
if you’re with him while playing, he’s got an arm around you at all times, as you give him some suggestions
and when he gets something right (which is like, all the time), he always looks at you, eager for your validation
you give him a little kiss when he’s searching for that validation, and it’s rather endearing to see a large smile grow on his face, determined to get everything right for even more affection from his lovely lover <3
however, he especially loves playing co-op games that he can play with you
take for example: overcooked or stardew valley
overcooked’s considered a very rage-y game, but heizou really can’t get enough of your face when you’re so intently focused on chopping up virtual lettuces, he’s melted on the inside more than once, caught with a dopey smile on his face
and when you take the lead and tell him what to do, heizou’s more than happy to comply! just listening to your voice is more than enough for him :D
on the other side of the spectrum, stardew valley’s definitely more of a relaxed game, and it’s the perfect thing for a lazy sunday afternoon, when the both of you are free from stress
heizou won’t admit it, but he sometimes gets jealous of the npcs that the players are able to romance (you’d never cheat on him, though- even with fictional characters)
he gets all pouty and whiny when he sees you smiling at your screen when talking to a certain npc
“babeeeee, can we go out now?”
“we went out literally this morning, though?”
“and I want to go out this afternoon, too!”
shoots a dirty look at the character once you’re getting your things, and deletes the tab open on your screen so he doesn’t have to see them :)
but when you’re playing together, it’s a whole other story
“Heizou, I‘m telling you, don’t waste your resources on stuff that you don’t need!”
You know he can hear you through the walls, yet he doesn't respond, and chooses to carry on his merry way throughout town. You sigh, but it’s nothing you’re not used to at this point. He’s constantly been collecting and farming materials just to use them for the most basic of things. He doesn’t even sell them; he just stockpiles them until he’s forced by a certain someone to do so! (Namely- you.)
On your screen, you can see both your sprites walking together at a moderate pace, his character following yours around incessantly, even when doing the most mundane of tasks. You can also hear his voice in your ears, thanks to the wonders of FaceTime, even though he’s currently sitting in a room conjoined to yours by a single, thin wall. You stop, and he stops. You take a right; he takes a right. You turn around to face him; his sprite gives you a little kiss on the lips. Forward and back.
It’s rather endearing, actually, especially when you can hear his laugh in your ears, and see the sparkle in his eyes when he does so. When you give him a kiss back, well. He immediately goes quiet, breath taken away from your act of affection (even if it is only virtual), and on FaceTime, you see him get up from his chair. You then hear the pitter-patter of his footsteps as your door slams open wide and he runs over to give you a very-real-not-very-virtual kiss on the lips. With a jubilant expression on his face, he smothers you in them, until your sides are aching from laughing too much.
“All this from a virtual kiss, Heizou?”
“Not virtual to me, babe. After all, my instincts told me that I was going to be surprised with a real one soon after.”
“You-“ You wheeze, gasping for air. “You were the one who kissed me!”
He doesn’t offer a reply, only grinning at you with a strangely fond look in his eyes, his smile growing softer by the second. Getting up from your chair (how did he end up there, anyway?), he gives you one last kiss on your forehead- lingering for a few moments-, and walks right out of your room back into his, his figure appearing once again on your phone.
What’s on your screen is much different, though. A brown box containing a message lies awaiting for your response.
“Heizou requests to marry you. Accept?”
As the realisation dawns on you, Heizou’s staring intently at your pixelated face, blush adorning his cheeky smile. You never truly realised why he had been farming so much recently.
Getting up abruptly, you run to his room while slamming his door open, and give him a kiss. Sparkles adorn your eyes, and he swears his heart’s never raced this fast in a long time. Heizou grins, the moles under both his eyes raising upwards.
“What did I tell you? My instincts never fail me.”
kazuha
often plays peaceful games- lots of sandboxes especially
kazuha’s got a very creative soul, and that branches out into the various designs and builds he manages to make in every single game he plays
it doesn’t matter if if the game’s got less than average graphics, he’s managing to create an absolutely picturesque, pinterest-esque house for the both of you to reside in <3
how he does it? he’d never tell you (he searches up tutorials on youtube in his free time and dedicates like five hours on creating the perfect build catered especially to your tastes)
animal crossing is a particular fav of his- the overall aesthetic of the franchise fits him like a glove
every time you join him in animal crossing co-op, he’s following you around like a little duckling
if you show off your island, he’s oohing and ahhing like his life depends on those phrases, subtly ignoring his own builds
sends postcards in animal crossing, too, you’ve built up quite a large supply of them- ranging from simple greetings to declarations of love
kazuha can’t resist professing his adoration for your cute face!
“my love, remember to drink water ^^”, or “i love you, and will love you, eternally. p.s. i’m giving you all my bells next time i see you, you deserve it <3”, or “looking forward to our date tomorrow, i know an angel can’t compare to you.”
(kazuha’s love language is complimenting you to the high heavens)
however, for all his flowery language and calming nature, he’s surprisingly competitive- mario kart being the main reason of bringing his competitiveness out
he’s a little less harsh on you, and even lets you win occasionally (not without coming second, though)
the triumphant smile on your face is too cute for him resist, he has to let you win at least some times
but, sometimes is only sometimes, and most of the time, he’s taking the wins left, right, and centre
he has a devious smirk on his face while he’s pummeling you into dust- but when he turns to you beside him, he’s all smiley and innocent
“what’s wrong, my love? would you like me to recite one of my recent haikus for you? :)”
and you’re looking at him with disbelief written all over your face
but- if someone else dares to overlap you on rainbow road- or hit you with a shell in moo moo meadows, he’s unleashing the beast 👹👹👹
every single time he gets a shell, he’s aiming at them, every single time he gets the chance to slow them down or make them look like a fool, he’s taking it
does this while also making sure that you’re far ahead of them- due to your wonderful drifting capabilities and his tormentous destructive capabilities
in conclusion, you do not want kazuha to be your enemy in mario kart unless you want to rage quit on the first lap
the only exception to this is when you make him your enemy- then he’s the one panicking
“Have I told you how amazing you are, love?”
Kazuha musters the sweetest smile he can, eyes turning into half-moon crescents. To an inexperienced eye, it may seem like he was merely complimenting you; but to an experienced one- (i.e. yourself) you knew that he was scared. You’re right, of course. He’s desperately willing his hands not to seem like they’re shaking while holding the controller, and there’s a dark feeling in his gut that sounds like trouble for him.
Sure, maybe he did lap you, and sure, maybe he did let out a gentle laugh when he did, but is that harsh glare really necessary? He’s your lover, after all. Aren’t lovers supposed to get special treatment? He’s not one of those people that hits you with a shell and then overtakes you twi- oh. Kazuha lets out a nervous laugh. Usually so calm and composed, he’s now sweating bullets.
“Love, I can get you some takeout if you want it? I heard the new place down the road sells exquisite food for cheap…”
You turn your back from him, still playing the game in a dreadful 12th place, while his side of the screen’s displaying a gold ‘1st’. It’s your favourite map too. He pouts at this, eyes shining with hurt, but there’s a part of him that still coos and swoons over how cute you look, focused utterly on the game.
Once you finally finish (Kazuha suspects you prolonged it), he holds your shoulders to stop you from escaping and tilts your head up to look at him.
“I love it when it rains, but now I see a storm within you, and I want nothing more than to make it go away to reveal a sunny sky. I’m sorry for hitting you with a shell and overtaking you in Mario Kart, which some would say is considered a skill issue, but is there any way you could forgive me?”
He seems a bit too sincere for the plea to be meant in a jokey manner, and maybe he’s just a bit worried that you may actually be angry at him. The fact hits him when he finds himself already coming up with a list in his head about your favourite foods, and items that he’s caught you looking at more than once.
However, you try to stifle a smile at his mention of your ‘skill issue’, but he sees it, and- Kazuha definitely does not want to admit this- his heart feels a little bit lighter than before. He wasn’t worried about your relationship because of a simple video game, was he? (Yes, he really was.) Relief floods his features, as he hugs you tight to his chest, kissing the crown of your head.
An increase in volume of the music interrupts your moment together, making you jump. You glare at the screen and rush to turn it off. Kazuha laughs in that soft way you love; his eyes widen, and his hand comes up to cover his mouth. Too late. You’ve already heard it, and you’re already glaring at him again.
“I didn’t mean it, love, I swear-“
“You’d better have that takeout in ten minutes.”
Kazuha tries to contain his fond smile.
a/n: tried out a new format: hcs! these are very fun to do, you can be a lot more informal (at least, I think), so maybe pt. 2?? tysm for reading ❤️ likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! :)
summary: alhaitham makes exceptions only for one person
contents: fluff, pining alhaitham, he has a massive crush lmao, reader and him aren't together, character focused (?), gn!reader
cw: very tiny allusions to academic pressures and stress
recommend listening to: john wayne by cigarettes after sex
Alhaitham doesn’t know what to do with himself. He should, he definitely should. But what can he do when you’re infesting his mind? He wants you to get out; get out of his thoughts before it’s too late; before it’s too late to do anything about it. But how could he? When he sees your smile, even your face, even when someone mentions your name, the thought of laying with you in his arms will penetrate the barriers he’s built up. Built up after years, or maybe built in his nature, he doesn’t seem to care what people think of him. But you’re different. It’s frustrating.
Him against the world. Alhaitham knows this is an arrogant view (one that he would never stand by), but he understands why people may think of him that way. What do you do when you’re called a genius from such a young age, apart from relishing in the praise and waiting for it to subside? When such scholarly brains are picked apart by external factors, your own thoughts become your worst enemies. Alhaitham knows what this feels like, experienced what it’s like, would wish it on no person. Maybe that’s why he’s so closed off, seems so uncaring, says things so matter-of-factly. If he has to treat everyone equally, the easiest thing to do is to treat them objectively, so why are you the exception to that?
You’ve never had to face the same obstacles other people have had to deal with when talking to him; he’d never put them up in the first place. Never for you, anyway. Yet you’ve never noticed this; never noticed how his eyes gleam with an unbearable fondness that twinkles whenever you’re around, or how they soften in adoration whenever he catches himself staring. Alhaitham hasn’t noticed this either- in a perpetual state of denial- blaming it on your addicting presence, blaming it on the fact he can’t seem to stay away for too long, lest he begin to miss the way you speak, the way you laugh, the way his heart thumps quicker in response.
Alhaitham finds himself to be uncharacteristically quiet in your presence. Normally, he’s always there to find a quick comment, something to keep the conversation going in a way that’s textbook charismatic. But when he joins you for a walk, your path lit by faint moonlight, stars twinkling and leaves rustling, he’s as quiet as the clouds in the night sky, silently, yet valiantly moving alongside your strides. You’re quiet, as well. He doesn’t seem to mind. There’s a certain sereness, being able to walk with you, and being able to admire you from such a short distance away, he has to bite his tongue and resist the urge to utter how mesmerising he finds you, your face dappled by the moonlight. For now, though, he takes your hand instead. You don’t resist, but instead look up at him. Alhaitham’s looking up at the stars, his heart beating.
You and him. Him and you. He can’t think of any better way to live. And maybe he’s in too deep; maybe he’s succumbed to his feelings; maybe he’s found that he likes holding your hand too much. He likes the way your fingers interlock, palms touching, hands squeezing. It’s his way of promising you infinity. Infinity, for any little less would be too little for someone like you, taking up too much space in his mind that he doesn’t seem to mind as much as he should. Alhaitham thirsts for knowledge, so it bothers him when he can’t figure out why he’s feeling so much for just one person. You make him feel something, something so extraordinarily amazing, something that makes him want to profess,
“I’d do anything to hold your hand, over and over again.”
So when his eyes meet yours, or when he clasps your hand in his, know that you have his pounding heart forever. Because you make him feel, you’ve made him care more about your wellbeing than that of his own, a feat not to be dismissed. Because you’ve trapped him; trapped him in his own web of devotion and undying loyalty. And he doesn’t know what to do with himself, and he knows that he wants to kiss you.
And maybe he wants nothing more than to take a walk with you, stars gleaming overhead, and promise you the knowledge that he’ll stay by your side forevermore.
a/n: cigarettes after sex songs do something to me i swear :’) likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💚
hi is it alright if i request kaeya, diluc and thoma (separate) with a reader who feels very insignificant next to them and their achievements, hurt to comfort pls <333
i see you, i cherish you
contents: hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationships, gn!reader, monologues in each part so have fun with that haha
cw: negative thoughts, overall sadness and insecurites, feelings of emptiness, crying, food
a/n: first of all, ty anon for being incredibly patient! i'm so so sorry this took so long to fulfill, but i really hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
kaeya– pavo ocellus
Even with one eye, you consider Kaeya to have achieved and gone through so much you couldn’t even imagine happening to yourself. From losing his parents to another parent, and on top of that, his rather- for lack of better words- rocky relationship with his brother, he’s gone through so much and emerged so strong. This comes to the problem at hand. You. Even though he may not have such a clean and honest reputation, people still respect him, evident through their affirming glances and the straightening of their backs whenever he walks by. You, on the other hand, are merely thought of as an accessory, an addition to his ever-growing collection of precious items, tagging along for the sake of it.
It’s draining to keep thinking like this, you know, but you can’t help the thoughts that constantly invade your mind, constantly reminding you of how insignificant you are compared to Kaeya. You’ve done nothing of value; you’ve done nothing to help the people of Mondstadt, and you’ve done nothing for yourself at this point! He seems like such a respected figure, and you seem so little compared to him, you might as well just live your life inside forever and no one would notice you were gone.
Tears start escaping from your eyes, and you don’t bother to try and catch them with your mouth like you did when you were younger, because what’s the point? You’re going to eventually start crying again, and again and again. You’re just not important enough and you haven’t done enough and you just feel so small, and so empty. Curling up into the foetal position, you let the sadness wash over you.
—
Kaeya hurries back to your shared home. He’s been looking forward to this, the thought of holding you in your arms and being able to kiss your delightful mouth is enough motivation for him to be tying up any loose ends his (interrogations) job may bring and finishing up the stacks of paperwork his other colleagues have piled up out of laziness. Honestly, some people these days have no moral integrity!
Unlocking the door, and walking in, he immediately notices how quiet it is. That’s strange, considering how he can usually find you either in the kitchen, preparing some form of dinner whenever he comes back home late, or in the hallway right in front of him, welcoming him back home instead. There’s no one in either of those rooms, and when he calls out your name and no one calls back, he begins to get worried. He can’t lose you, not ever, so when a fresh wave of panic tries to take over, he tries his hardest to stay calm and think about things logically. The next thing to do would be to check upstairs. He’s bounding up them, two at a time, his strides revealing how much he’s actually worrying about your welfare, but he doesn’t even reach the top when he hears your cries.
Not even caring anymore, he bursts inside your bedroom to find you curled up on your bed, body wracking with tears, shaking periodically. A myriad of emotions swirl through him. Anger, at whoever made you feel like this- he stores a mental note to free up some time later that week- relief- well, at least you aren’t missing or gone, but most of all, sorrow. Sorrow at your sorry state, sorrow at the fact you feel like this, sorrow that echoes deep in his bones; a sorrow that makes his heart twinge in uncomfortable ways. He walks over to the bed, and lies next to you, facing your body.
Gently wrapping his arms around you, he whispers sweet nothings as you cry into his chest, each one making his eyes soften, and grip tighten.
“Please tell me what’s troubling you. I can’t have my darling all wound up, can I? It’s my duty as a knight to make sure all the citizens of Mondstadt are happy and healthy, wouldn’t you say?”
You don’t respond to his questions, like he thought you would anyway, so he changes tact.
“Darling, I beg. I don’t like seeing you upset, and know I’ll deal with anyone who tries to harm you, so please tell me what’s wrong. Whatever you say, I’ll make it right, you don’t have to lift a single finger, I promise.”
You sniffle a bit at this, tears coming slower, and you can feel his warm stare on your head, hands stroking your waist in a way that’s always made you feel relaxed. Or maybe that’s just his arms. Voice cracking up from all the crying, you respond, albeit with a wobble.
“I-I just haven’t done enough, Kaeya. I haven’t done enough!”
Bursting into a fresh set of tears, you wail into his chest once more, and once more, Kaeya shushes you. He kisses the top of your head, one that he hopes conveys his patience for you, and your words. He lets it linger for a couple of seconds before speaking again.
“To me, you’ve always been enough. Why else would you have stolen my heart, and why else would I have allowed it to happen?”
“But, you’ve just done so much and I’ve done so little!”
Kaeya frowns. He now knows what the problem is, but he feels clueless as to how you could ever feel this way. To him, you’ve done so much both for the people of Mondstadt and himself, helping out whenever you can, and always with a smile on your face.
“I’m going to stop you there, darling. Know that nobody thinks lowly of you. I may be the Cavalry Captain, but I have no horses; you may be my partner, but you are also a person. You may not see this, but everyone else can. You have done, and helped so many people that they come up to me- even when I’m out in the tavern- to talk about how you had helped them that same day. Apart from seeing your face, those little conversations are the highlight of my night, and they should be yours, too. So don’t worry, darling, from now on, I’ll tell you those messages and we’ll see how truly significant you actually are. I love you, wholly, and I never want you to feel like that ever again.”
His arms tighten around your waist as he presses a lingering kiss on your head. You squeeze back with the pressure of a feather, and a soft smile breaks through his face.
diluc– noctua
There are many ways you can say the name Diluc Ragnvindr. The Darkight Hero, saving grace of Mondstadt, free from the shackles of the Knights of Favonius, or perhaps, Master of the Dawn Winery, filthy rich, yet hard-working, producing possibly the best wine in the whole of Teyvat. No matter what name people utter, it always comes along with bucket loads of respect and admiration, constantly failing to hide the fact that they hold him in extremely high regard, much higher than what you could ever hope for. People speak of his courage, perseverance, and determination (well, maybe apart from Kaeya) when all they say to you is to ask how Diluc is.
It’s frustrating, no- it’s angering and belittling, and it’s as if you don’t have anything to stand for other than being his partner! He gets all of this respect and you just have to stand by his side! It’s as if they don’t even see you as a person with achievements, which- well, what have you done that’s worthy of praise? Nothing, you guess, maybe becoming Diluc’s partner was the peak of your life; it’s only going to go downhill from here, you’ve done nothing good, you’ve done nothing worthy; maybe you don’t deserve him at all. And- oh there the tears come, hot and salty, droplets dripping down your face.
–
There are many ways Diluc says your name. He says it gently, with hushed undertones and comforting hugs; he says it passionately, with longing in his eyes and a bold thump in his heart. But most of all, he says it so full of love, as if you had hung all the stars in the sky, full of unending, fulfilling, admiring adoration. Whenever your name leaves his mouth, people can’t help but stop and stare; it’s just so obvious how much the Master of the Dawn Winery cares for his special someone. Whenever your name leaves his mouth, there’s an ever-present look in his eye, one that reveals everything he feels about you, a look that proclaims out his devotion.
So when Diluc finds you- alone, sobbing violently into your pillows- he doesn’t hesitate to place you on his lap, arms cradling your fragile figure, as he utters your name again. He says it again and again, stroking your hair softly, waiting patiently (as if he wouldn’t wait an eternity) while he lets you cry into his shoulder, eyebrows slightly furrowing at the sight of seeing you so upset to get to a point like this. It’s not fair, he thinks, for you to feel like this when you deserve nothing but the opposite, and- he shouldn’t blame himself for this- but what if it has to do with him? You know he’s busy, and he knows he’s busy, but what if you’re feeling as if he doesn’t love you anymore?
Oh, what a lie, as if he could never love you, what a lie, as if he could never look forward to seeing you, as if he could never touch and kiss you as if it were his last. Those people weren’t lying when they said that he was truly in deep, too deep to ever get out of the hole he had dug for himself. Diluc doesn’t mind, though, if he’s in there with you, he would stay like that forever.
This doesn’t fix the situation at hand, however, and as much as Diluc would like to be able to fix all of your problems, the world doesn’t work like that, and so the next best thing is to help you try and feel better.
You’re still crying, and with every sob that you let out, a piece of his heart seemingly shatters into the void, and he thinks the only way to repair it would be to see your smile again. However, you’ve changed positions to where you’re both hugging each other. You on his lap, arms around his shoulders, and his arms around your waist, sporadically kissing your cheek every once in a while. He sighs, though not at you- never at you, eyes heavy with sadness at your state, and whispers gentle words, cradling your head with his hand.
“Look at me, darling. I love you eternally. I love you with my whole heart, and I can’t even fathom how much it beats for you. I do not know why you’re crying so, but I hate it. You do not deserve whatever this is you are feeling, and I know you as much as I know the back of my own hand. To me, you are the greatest person I have ever known. You have the ability to make me feel things I didn’t know I could, and you made me love, the most important thing of all. I have slain and destroyed, but at what cost? You have healed, and perhaps that is what I love about you so. So please do not cry, darling. You have done so much for me, and you have done so much for others. I know that much, so please, can I see you smile again?
You gaze up at him, eyes widening, as they fill up with tears once more. But not sad tears this time, happy ones instead. You kiss him, salty and passionate and thankful. It’s rather amazing how he manages to find the exact words to comfort you.
Diluc may be considered stoic, and quiet to most, but for you, he’d recite the longest scripture he could just to wipe your tears away.
thoma- rubeum scutum
The past few days for Thoma have been particularly busy. Both the Kamisato siblings required some type of assistance that had needed to be by their side for an extended amount of time, often just accompanying them with daily tasks around Inazuma that they may need to be called to. He doesn’t mind though, because at the end of each day, even though he may arrive late, even though he may find you asleep on the couch once he finally arrives back home, he gets to see your face, and gets to carry you gently off to bed, pressing some kisses to your forehead as he does so.
However, what Thoma doesn’t get to see, is the constant emotion of insignificance you feel next to him. You’re truly proud of him, you really are, and you’re glad he’s so busy and looked after all the time, but sometimes you wish that you could feel that way too. Sometimes you wished that you could receive the same workload as him- just to be able to say that your superiors trust you to be able to deal with larger things, like him. But you don’t and now you feel useless. Especially now, since he’s been kept working late for the Kamisato Clan, you’ve been chased by negativity for the days that he’s arrived late home, and it’s catching up to you.
It’s suffocating, you just want to be recognised by someone, for someone to be proud of you and to be able to say that they respect and admire your ethics and hardworking nature. But instead, you do mundane tasks everyday, get home, wait for Thoma, then go to sleep. You want something more; you yearn for some sort of sign in your life that you’ve achieved something, that you’ve created meaning for someone else. You just feel so tired of it all, you just want to go to sleep.
Staring at the wall blankly, you don’t even notice Thoma creeping in with a smile on his face, only to be replaced by a concerned frown. It’s the end of his gruelling week of assisting and accompanying, and there’s nothing more he wants than to be able to lay in bed with you, the one he loves with all his heart. He even prepared a cake for you to share, your favourite flavour! But when he sees you, devoid of emotion, a grim expression on your face unlike your usual self, he doesn’t hesitate to place the cake aside- all but forgotten- and rush over to where you’re sitting.
“Baby…?”
He whispers, almost scared to raise his voice, as if he would upset you even further. When you don’t respond, he gently raises you up to your feet, so tenderly, you know he’s done this before. He tilts your head up to look at him, and he gets scared. He gets scared at the empty look on your face, and he musters up all the love he can get (which- to be frank- is a lot) to smile at you. Even though he’s scared, the eyes are the window to the soul, and his truly reveal how much he cares for you. He searches for feeling in yours, and when he spots just a glimmer, he leans down to give you a gentle peck on the lips.
“Do you want to tell me what’s troubling you? I’ll do my very best to sort it out, you know I’d do anything for you.”
Comforted by the sound of his voice and affirmations, you regain some feeling in your body, and you feel less exhausted.
“Sorry, Thoma. I just- I’m not feeling too good.”
“Oh, would you like anything then? I have a really good soup recipe that I can make for you, just get some rest, and it’ll be ready in just a few minutes! I would prefer for you to feel better sooner rather than later.”
You sigh.
“No. That’s not what I meant. I mean- well- you’ve just been so busy and I’ve been… here, doing nothing. You’ve done so much already, and I haven’t done anything at all, I just want to feel as if I’ve done something… significant like you, that’s all.”
Tears start pooling at the corners of your eyes, and Thoma hurries to wipe them away with his hands. His heart clenches at your confession, worry evident in his eyes. If only you knew how much you mean to him, how much he thinks that you’re the significant one in the grand scheme of things, and how much he values your existence.
“No, don’t say that kind of stuff, it hurts. You know I love you so, so, so much and that I think you’ve done so much- too much- that I can’t possibly repay you. You don’t know how much you’ve impacted my life, and that I’m so grateful you came into it. I think others would agree too. I look forward to seeing you every day, y’know? You’re the highlight every single time, so don’t think of yourself as worthless, or insignificant, because I think if you weren’t here, my heart would have a massive gap right down the middle! I love you so much, baby, and it pains me to see you hurt like this, but I want you to believe that compared to me, you’re the one who shines bright. You’re the star here, not me.”
He pauses when you don’t respond. Maybe you need some time for yourself, sometimes that’s just the case.
“I’ll make the soup now, okay? I love you.”
Turning around to head out, a pair of arms from behind him encase his waist.
He laughs, turning around again to face you. Stroking your hair gently, he presses a kiss to your forehead, and wonders whether you can tell how much he truly loves you. How much he would do for you, and sacrifice for you. Thoma mutters a quiet ‘thank you’, and you look up at him, confused, tears still in your eyes.
“Surely I should be the thankful one, Thoma? Thank you, though.”
Your voice goes quiet at the last part.
He smiles softly, eyes drooping ever so slightly in admiration, in patience and in understanding.
“My pleasure.”
a/n: tysm for reading to the end! likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ❤️
omg thank u for writing my request 😭😭😭 i felt so soft reading it. ur writing always makes me feel very fluffy. my back pain is getting worse so reading that offered me some comfort 🥺
no problem at all anon, i really enjoyed writing it!! i'm so glad it gave you some comfort and i sincerely hope your back pain gets better very soon!! 💓💓
hiii since ur reqs r open, can i please have kaeya, thoma and childe (separate) with a reader who returns home after a tired day with a huge back ache and wants a massage and wants to be coddled and doted on but doesn't say anything bc they dont want to bother the boys but they find out. ty<33
relax in my arms forever, i'll hold you for eternity
contents: fluff, slight hurt/comfort, gn!reader, literally just guys wanting to take care of you :)
cw: food, mention of alcohol, slighty slighty suggestive, allusions of violence
a/n: tysm for this request anon! i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! (this also turned out a lot longer than what i was expecting haha)
kaeya— pavo ocellus ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
There’s nothing more that Kaeya loves than seeing the look on your face when you’re elated. The way your eyes crinkle up in joy, how he’s able to see how happy you truly look, and the way it makes him fall in love all over again. On the other hand, there’s nothing more that he hates than to see the look on your face when you’re exhausted, too tired to even give him a small peck on his cheek. He hates the way you won’t talk to him, and he hates the way you think he’d ever think you’d be a bother. You’re acting like this right now, and- even though you’ve still not told him about your fatigue- he’s observant enough to figure it out rather quickly, even with only one eye.
With his sharp tongue and glinting eyes, Kaeya is usually always up for a ‘nice’ chat- even better with some alcohol in his system- but somehow he’s reduced to placating tones and gentle words whenever you’re with him. He knows that you’re not in any serious danger; otherwise, he would’ve had to deal with a lot more than your tired face, but it still pains him to see you not happy and smiling like you usually are. Another yawn comes out of your mouth, and you lean up to stretch your arm muscles. He can hear the bones in your shoulder clicking as you do so.
Well, that’s settled it, then. He’s going to give you a massage whether you like it or not. The telling signs of your muscle fatigue and the dark circles under your eyes inform him that you’re in desperate need of some good, old TLC, and what better way for you than for him to give you a special massage, courtesy of his never-ending love. He does want your smile back, after all.
“Darling, sit down, and get comfy, hmm? Turn around so your back’s facing my chest.”
His velvety voice invades your senses, and- too tired to care- you oblige, shuffling around so that he’s able to properly reach your shoulders. His eyes widen when he sees the obvious hunch of your back, and he resolves to fix it much sooner than later.
“Kaeya, what are you doing?”
You say to him, sleepily, stretching your arms out once again. He can hear them click once again, too.
“I’m giving you a massage. No offence, darling, but I think you need it.”
Sighing, you mutter a few words back at him, so quietly that he can’t hear them, but takes it as confirmation for him to continue. He hums under his breath, gently placing two hands on your covered shoulders, making sure to cover the most surface area while still managing to maintain a firm grip.
“Tell me if this hurts, and I’ll be less harsh.”
You nod, and he gets to work.
It’s surprising how delicate yet steady Kaeya manages to be. Most people would’ve assumed that he handles things harshly, through no fault of his own; but through all of the battles and fights he’s had to endure. Instead, his hands knead the knots out of your muscles perfectly, and the steady rhythm of going around in circles and rolling the skin of your shoulders helps you melt further into his arms. They caress and tug, coaxing out the stress and fatigue that’s been building up, not entirely unlike his own personality. His hands hit every pressure point they can, and soon enough you’re falling into a light slumber, the soft hums of his voice pervading the air surrounding the both of you. Before you fully drift off to sleep, you hear him chuckle.
“My, my, am I really making you feel that good?”
Blushing at his insinuation, you try to feign sleep, but one thing you may have ignored was that you should never forget how much this man knows your quirks and habits like the back of his hand.
“Darling, I know you’re still awake. But, I guess I can play along for now. Your shoulders have loosened up quite a bit, all thanks to my handiwork. You can thank me later.”
He presses a sweet kiss on your forehead, scooping you up ever-so-gently, and silently pads over to your bedroom, placing you down onto the soft mattress. Covering you up with some blankets, he’s noticed that you’ve actually managed to fall asleep properly by now, and he delights in the fact that he’s able to take some time to admire you.
He much prefers your peaceful, calm look, with no crease in your eyebrows, and no frown that he so hates. Cupping your sleeping face with one hand, he dons a particularly adoring expression.
“I hope you feel better. All for you, of course.”
thoma— rubeum scutum ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
Humming a merry tune, Thoma whistles cheerily, eagerly awaiting your arrival from work. He’s been cooking a variety of dishes, each one distinctly picked out to suit your tastes. The smell of food wafts outside, and the apron he’s wearing has been stained with various greases and condiments, which he knows you’ll scold him for. Hopefully, the food will win you over, but some kisses might work as well. He sighs dreamily. Just thinking of having a nice homemade dinner with you has his heart fluttering, the utter domesticity of being able to cherish and spoil you being too much for him to handle.
When he hears the door open, he perks up, eyes shining as he tries his very best not to run straight over to where he knows you’ll be, taking your coat off and hanging it on the rack he managed to buy at half price. He finally reaches the entrance and, a smile reaching his eyes, leans in to hug you, only for you to head straight to the kitchen, leaving him- for lack of better words- utterly gobsmacked. His mouth gapes open, thoughts only of you in his mind. Your usual routine is to hug him, then kiss him, then he’ll ask for some more and you’ll laugh it off, saying that you were hungry and wanted to have some food, maybe giving him a small peck out of pity. What happened today? Did you receive bad news? Has he- no- are you mad at him?
Racing towards the kitchen, not even caring that he’s running on freshly polished flooring, he finds you sitting down, a large sigh coming out from your mouth once you’re seated on a chair. You close your eyes, enjoying the relief that it gives you, when a plate of hot steaming food is placed in front of you. Thoma’s eyes are the first thing you see, overflowing with concern, and- are those tears? His hesitant voice calls out to you, gentle and careful.
“Baby, are you mad at me? Because if you are, then I’m really sorry for what I did, but could you at least tell me what I did? I love you so much, I don’t want you to be mad at me.”
A sad smile etched onto his features, he takes the seat opposite you and begins eating his food dejectedly. You- too stunned to even reply- battle with your thoughts. On one hand, the only thing you want right now is to be doted on by your lover; but on the other, you don’t want to bother him even more; he’s already gone to all this trouble just for you. Your gaze softens.
“No, Thoma, it’s fine, you haven’t done anything wrong, I love you too.”
The concern doesn’t leave his eyes, however.
“Are you sure? What’s wrong then? Are you tired? I don’t mind going to bed early, but please eat first!”
It’s almost comical how much he cares for you. You would laugh, but he’s hit the nail on the head; really all you wish for is to be doted on by him, being an extremely tiring day at work. A sigh leaves your mouth, making his frown even larger. You’ve made your decision, and there's no time like the present.
“Today’s been really tiring, Thoma, do you think we could take a bath together?”
His frown immediately disappears, morphing into a soft smile, immediately getting what you were hinting at.
“Of course, baby. I’ll set it right now, finish your food first, though.”
You smile back, allowing him to see the fatigue in your eyes.
“Thanks, Thoma.”
“Anything for you.”
—
When the food’s been gobbled up (it was suited to your tastes, after all), you and Thoma head to the bath to relax. He holds your hand the entire way, down to when you settle comfortably, back pressed against his chest. His arms cradle your waist, hands absentmindedly stroking your stomach, as you let the warm water relax your muscles. You can hear him humming, his chest rumbling against your back as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek.
“Love you so much, baby.”
His nose brushes your cheek as he whispers those words, one hand of his reaching up for a bottle of shampoo. Ever so gently, he lathers your hair with it, hands massaging the roots of your hair. He scratches at the best parts, making sure never to be too harsh, as bubbles start to build up, leaving you oh-so-relaxed. You can feel him press tender kisses along your shoulder, lips grazing your skin in such a loving way that makes your heart beat just a bit faster. Once your hair’s been sufficiently massaged, he takes the showerhead, and rinses all the suds off, making sure to wipe away all the water that comes into contact with your eyes. He murmurs words in your ear, each as caring and tender as the hands that look after his lover.
“You’re so pretty, y’know that?”
With the water cascading down your back, and your lover’s hands carding through your hair, you would feel content staying in the warmth forever.
The soft smile- so full of love- that Thoma gives you, agrees.
childe— monoceros caeli ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
After a day of working (fighting), there’s nothing more that Childe wants than to lie with you, see your face, and he can go to sleep happy. However, when he enters your shared home, he’s greeted with the sight of you all bundled up in a blanket, seemingly staring into a vacant space.
His first reaction is to coo at how adorable you look, immediately having to resist the urge to tackle and smother you in kisses. His second reaction is to be concerned; no matter how cute you look, he does seem to notice that the expression on your face is slightly off, not like usual. Childe prides himself on being surprisingly observant, but maybe you would expect that based on his Harbinger status. And, if it were to concern you, he pays just a bit more attention than usual.
His final reaction is anger. Whoever- or whatever- made you like this will pay the price. Usually with their life, but you’ve been trying to teach him not to resort to violence every time he sees you upset. Maybe he’s a bit overdramatic, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
He still feels the itch of his fingers, waiting for a weapon to hold and use to maim; he still sees the usual red in his eyes whenever he catches you off guard, upset. But for now, he’ll have to settle for the clenched fists by his side, as the main problem here is to figure out how to make you feel better. He doesn’t like the distant look in your eyes, usually so bright and carefree, the numbness he’s observing in your body should be carried by him instead.
Gently padding over to where you’re sat, he holds you tenderly and places you on his lap. Arms wrap around your waist as his head leans to rest on your shoulder. Mustering the best possible smile he can, he turns to face you with an inexplicably cheery tone of voice.
“What’s wrong, darling? If it’s someone, I can get rid of them, no problem! Anything for you, always.”
You mumble back, eyes slightly drooping.
“It’s nothing, Childe. Just a bit tired is all.”
His fists still haven’t unclenched themselves. Childe doesn’t believe you, not one bit, as he presses a quick kiss to your cheek.
“You sure? I could do with a bit of practice… my aim’s getting rusty. Plus, it’s for you, so it’s no bother!”
Glancing at him ever so carefully, you hesitate. Truth is, you’re exhausted. All you want to do now is lie in bed forever and not come out, basking in the comfort of its warmth. Childe is an added bonus, but gratefully accepted nonetheless. However, you don’t want to burden him; you can see the faint eye bags he’s been trying to hide, and you notice the fatigue in his muscles when he cooks your meals for dinner.
“Darling? Say something, at least.”
You sigh. The earnest look on his face is too much for you to handle; it reminds you of a loyal soldier too faithful for their own good. Well, that is what his job is, essentially.
“Can we lie in bed together? I just want to be with you.”
He visibly perks up. The grin on his face widens, and you can see his eyes sparkle- no, not even metaphorically- you swear they actually sparkle. A blush forms on his cheeks, and he laughs like someone so in love that it makes a small smile on your face appear as well. He buries his head into your neck, hands unclenching to stroke your waist.
“You’re so cute! I just want to hold you in my arms forever!”
He does check on you as an afterthought, though. He’s not a totally bad partner.
“You sure you’re okay, though?”
“Yes, Childe. Better now you’re here.”
–
You can feel Childe’s arms wrapped tightly against your waist, his legs intertwined with yours, your head on his chest. You can also feel the soft thump of his heartbeat and it’s funny how even when you just look at him, it speeds up. You point it out to him and he pouts.
“Not fair that you’re so cute!”
Every so often (more like every other moment he gets the chance to) he presses a series of kisses to your face, one on your forehead, one on your cheek, one on your jaw, and one on your lips. They’re also particularly sloppy, but you can excuse that, for him.
You don’t know how much time has passed, but you’re feeling a lot better, a lot less tired, and as loved as ever. He lets out a contented sigh.
“Love you.”
“Love you too, Childe. Could you get me some water, though? My throat’s feeling a bit dry.”
He immediately jumps out of bed, scrambling to the kitchen to get you a glass of water. You can hear the shouts of his voice as he runs off, energy at an all-time high.
“I’ve got it! Stay in bed and relax, baby! I’ll be right back!”
You giggle to yourself. He certainly takes the message, ‘love and look after’ extremely seriously.
a/n: tysm for reading until the end ❤️ likes, reblogs and comments are always, always appreciated!
summary: zhongli would never tire from spending his days with you.
contents: fluff, established relationship, gn!reader, modern au, dates galore (by that i mean 2 maybe 3)
cw: food
recommend listening to: lovers rock by tv girl
a/n: last instalment in my winter special!
Zhongli doesn’t consider himself to be particularly celebratory. He doesn’t consider his birthday to be that momentous, either, but if you disagree, who is he to argue against it?
Every year- before you met- he would receive the normal amount of presents, the normal amount of congratulations, and he would give out the normal amount of thank you’s.
Now, he’s not sure what normal is any more. You, who came into his life out of the blue; someone who’s been there with him during his highs and his lows, whom he hopes he will spend every passing day with. You, who manages to get him to laugh when you propose to him a planned day out for his very special birthday. You, who doesn’t laugh along, and instead pouts in that very adorable way he sincerely loves.
—
The first thing you take him to is an arcade. Bright, flashing, blinding lights take over his senses, as his eyes try to adjust to the neon colours. You turn to him with a grin, just as blinding as the fluorescent lighting, but maybe something he cherishes just a bit more. He smiles back, amused, as he lets you drag him off to a multitude of slot machines and arcade mini-games. You groan in despair when you fail to get him a plushie (those damn scams!), but cheer in glee when he manages to win a pair of matching keyrings. On the first try too.
He’s dragged away to every single station that catches your eye, tickets building up and up. You’ve probably spent a fair few coins- he can feel the hole forming in his wallet- but who is he to complain? The joy in your eyes is infectious, and he can’t help but sneak a few photos without you noticing. (He secretly saves one of them as his lock screen.) Your feet eventually tire, however, and when Zhongli sees a faint sheen of sweat across your forehead, you go up to the counter (note. he forces you to stop and go up to the counter) and buy possibly the biggest plushie he’s ever seen. Handing it to him, the fluorescent lights surround your silhouette, and he doesn’t think that he’s ever seen such a beautiful sight before. He takes the plushie, wraps an arm around your waist, and gives you a forehead kiss, one that he hopes conveys his gratitude as much as it can. When you walk outside, the brisk air hits his face, but he doesn’t think his heart has felt this light in ages.
Your next destination is a restaurant you know he’s been looking at for ages. It’s around dusk, almost dark outside, and the sunset is a breathtaking view. While you’re walking, trying to get your GPS working, his hand clasps yours, and you hear the mutters of “what a mesmerising sight”, but don’t acknowledge it, too focused on the map on your phone. You don’t know, he’s been looking at you the whole time.
After a few minutes of walking and idle chatter, you finally arrive, and Zhongli’s hit with the smell of soup. Specifically, bamboo shoot soup. His grip on your hand tightens, and you’re shown a dazzling smile, accompanied by eyes brimming with adoration. He looks like home.
“Thank you, dearest.”
Pressing another lingering kiss to your forehead, he almost all but whispers these words. He almost all but longs to shout out his devotion towards you instead, but that would be improper of him. Perhaps for another day. Plus, you can see the faint red on his ears, and the grip on your hand says all you need to hear.
—
Dishes come and go, each one as delicious as the last, and the both of you happily converse, the restaurant atmosphere bustling and cosy. All sorts of conversation rocks in between different plates, his gaze never leaving yours. He can’t help but stare; how could he not? When you’re talking like this, and when you’re looking at him like this, his eyes can’t help but fill with adoration, a content smile long since firmly plastered on his face.
When both your stomachs are full, and the rosy glow of the restaurant begins to dim, you take his hand. It’s begun to snow, gentle snowflakes dusting the top of your heads, and the path towards your final destination has turned into a wasteland of crunchy, packed white powder. Nevertheless, your hand is encased in his, and it looks like he’s feeling warm enough, cheeks blushing a very cheery pink.
A few minutes later, you’ve arrived at a park, lamplights being the only thing guiding your way. Being late at night, it’s practically empty, the only sounds being the faint thrums of a car exhaust, and the faraway yowls of cats making their way through the empty streets. You recheck your phone to ensure it’s not yet turned midnight. It hasn’t.
Leading Zhongli to a bench, right under a lamplight, you lean your head on his shoulder. He laughs in response, deep rumbles accompanying some strokes to your hair. It’s still snowing; you can see the faint white on his dark eyelashes, and he’s stroking your hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Did you like today?”
He turns to face you, eyes gleaming, smile growing.
“I loved it. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”
You sigh in satisfaction and snuggle even further into his shoulder. There’s a distant chime of a clock, twelve strikes in total. You look at him.
“Happy New Year, Zhongli.”
He doesn’t say anything in response; only by lifting your chin with a delicate hand, can you see the utter devotion he holds for you. It’s amazing, actually. Your noses are almost touching; you’re so close that you can see your reflection in his pupils.
“Another year with you by my side, I couldn’t ask for anything more. Happy New Year, dearest.”
Zhongli leans in, your lips touch. Fireworks go off in the distance.
a/n: happy new year!! 🎉🎊 as always, likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 🤎
