welcome to my writing sideblog! my name is elf, and i write occasionally for obey me and genshin! here are some reminders :
this is a sideblog, which means i usually won’t be able to answer to comments. to avoid confusion, my main blog is @/wordholic
requests will be open from time to time for specified fandom/characters. i don’t write nsfw, graphic violence and anything that may cause me discomfort
feel free to tell me your fic ideas even when my requests are closed! i love to expand on different aus and headcanons!
comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated, they keep me going as a writer!
(this is a resurrection of my old blog under the same name ; i accidentally deleted that one)
soooo i just got done reading your 'in a week' fic. let me tell you something!! that was sooo beautifully written. im out here joining luci, trying to hold back tears, failing, and trying to dry my tears up in case my very christian mother walks in on me crying over lucifer. anywayysss never felt so much while reading a fic before. you did such a great work with it. i hope you have a happy hoilidays 🤍✨🌸🍀
thank you for liking the fic! i was also a mess writing it lol, but im glad it touched your heart the way it did mine <3 happy holidays to you as well!❤️
albedo has definitely been that one smart, brainy prince that has that big library in the palace, although he’d be ready to drop every single book in his hands to see you anytime of day.
alhaitham has been a huge gentleman even if you are to serve him, though, he is much more gentle with you than others, such as tucking you in with a blanket, offering you a glass of water, and things as such. it’s just a way to treat his beloved (servant, maybe more?).
ayato is a tease, though he sees that your reactions to him teasing you quite fun, he still thinks that seeing your caring smile and fond actions to him are better than seeing you flustered.
most caring and smug at times, baizhu is yet to have more interactions with you in a mix of affectionate fluff and affectionate teasing. in ways as in; having you sit on his lap, hugging you from behind tightly, yet his lips are pressed to your shoulder.
capitano is just as formal as any royal should be, yet in a touch of affection, he has always seemed to pay attention to you, when the other servants would simply say “lord capitano hates me! he doesn’t pay attention to any of us at all!”… well… he could have favoritism?
childe, the most teasing and chaotic prince of all. some may think he’s just a playboy unable to reveal his own emotions by a mask on his face without his eyes glinting, yet whenever he’s just alone with you, his long gone glint in his eyes come back, feeling a sense of safety with you.
cyno is quite intimidating at first, yet when he warms up, everything about his world has been revealed to you, up to old memories, palace secrets, and even the old truth of some historical events.
dainsleif is the most mysterious one of all of the princes, most likely because of that mask that has been on his face the first time you’ve met him, although one night, you walked into his room in order to give him his nightly tea, yet one thing you felt off was… he didn’t have a mask on..? he looks charming, but yet dainsleif isn’t able to keep his cool, unable to hide a blush on his face, just by seeing you.
diluc is quite a stern, formal prince, most likely so that he’ll be known to be “worthy” to be crowned king after his fathers death, yet behind closed doors, he’s been craving touch of any kind, especially when it’s from you. he’d be inviting you to his quarters before he sleeps just to hold you in his arms for a while.
dottore has been inviting you in his lab for many times, just to pull you away from your own work to have you trapped in his embrace, sighing cold air onto your collarbone as he places a trail of kisses all towards your jawline.
as generous as he is, gorou still won’t be as used to your affectionate gestures to him in his quarters, especially when he wakes up. your fond smile and a soft whisper of “good morning” to him is just enough to have him swoon.
heizou is just as curious as you in palace secrets, and as a good prince he is, at times he’ll find the urge to flirt with you in front of anyone. you find it flustering yet hilarious that he says things like; “y/n… you’re so dreamy… come back in bed…” -when he’s half asleep.
itto is a cheerful, sunshine kind of prince, one that would never keep away from conversations. sometimes when he goes on a walk with you, some of the grandmothers on the street may say “oh look! the prince has finally fallen in love..”
kaeya has never been more happier with you, because once he knew that you cared for him truly, he couldn’t take his attention off of you, some may say the prince hasn’t been any more fond of one person since one familiar departure.
kazuha writes you poems of the ways you smile, laugh, or even about the ways you cared about him, not just because he’s a prince that you should serve, but because you care for him so dearly.
pantalone was always the type to spoil you; before and after his day starts. usually by buying you your favorite things in life, but you insist that he shouldn’t, it’s supposed to be the other way around…
pierro has always been the stern yet caring king, most always towards you. he’s been protecting you by the times you’ve always went out with him in public. when seeing you with your family, he can’t help but feel a small smile on his face, whenever he sees yours.
scaramouche is the most demanding one of all the princes listed, but now that he’s gotten closer with you, he can’t even bare to say such words of fierce, by ordering you. his speech comes to “hey, servant! get me a glass of wine, will you?” to “y/n… get me some wine… please..”
thoma is just as generous and kind to anyone else, just by his duty as a prince, but after the day is done, he always looks forward to you being in his quarters, talking to him about his day. certain things like that makes his heart flutter with joy.
tighnari always invites you to the palace garden to have you read books to him, but honestly? he just needed your voice to lull him to sleep.
venti sings sweet songs that he wrote just for you, from the way you act to him and to the way you smile fondly with a stare of endearment to him.
xiao is mostly quite blunt the first time you met him, but just after a few months, his sentence; “y/n, i would like to discuss a private matter to you in my quarters.” turns to “y/n, are you coming back again to my quarters? i miss you.”
zhongli has always told you stories of the past, but everytime he actually tells you those stories, some words slip past his mouth, just one like after telling a story of lovers, he could mutter out; “maybe it could be us soon.”
— vale speaks ! .. i’m back :O, anyways scaramouches and dottores was VERY biased (due to it being SUGGESTIVE??) , anyways ty ty tysm for 200 followz^_^ i appreciate u all truly!!
summary: in which i read a lot of pretty things that remind me of a lot of genshin impact characters (back by popular demand, tysm for the support! you all own my heart).
featuring: albedo, childe, dainsleif, diluc, itto, kaeya x gn!reader (seperately)
cw: mentions of childe's real name
personal favorites: childe, dainsleif
a/n: i'm sorry for being mia!! school is killing me slowly hard. also,,, sorry for always giving kaeya angst. i don't even mean to, it's just so fitting for him. T^T ALSO! this is x gn!reader but please let me know if they are any pronouns slips that i may have missed :) enjoy loves!! <3
albedo k. — "from the base of her neck, to the arch of her eyelids, her beauty made a slave of me." adonis.
the air was unsettled as you posed against the rocky perch; a faint breeze working rosiness into your cheeks and goosebumps up your arms. to your back was the ocean blue and to your front was the white of your lover's hair.
albedo sat neatly in the green of the earth, his paintbrush dancing colors across the white canvas in front of him. painting was his passion, and you, his muse. like a true daughter of mnemosyne, you were an endless source of inspiration for him, a constant tickling of his senses and thoughts. he felt like a prisoner, the way your soul captured his own.
but just like he never thought of himself a genius, neither did you consider yourself a model. he almost found it funny, how you could spew praise but never take it. he loved that humble character of yours, but he also wanted to rid you of it. even if for only a moment, he wanted to see you fall for the sight of your image, like he did with each waking moment.
the belly of his brush maneuvered around the portrait, it's bristles staining the linen as it went. various pigments were quick to flood the piece, and it's whiteness soon drowned in the care of it. albedo delicately traced your features into the art, loving the way the brush spiraled over each curve and drifted over every detail. from the base of your neck, to the arch of your eyelids, your beauty made a slave of him.
"albedo, can i finally see it?" your eyes pointed to the eisel.
his lips curved into a soft smile, pleased by your eagerness. he extended his hand towards you, saying, "come here, love."
childe — "that's the trouble with loving a wild thing: you're always left watching the door." edith pattou.
you laid sprawled underneath the covers of your shared bed, cheek pressing against the pillow. though your body sat still, your eyes danced at the door.
ajax was always a busy man—that simply came with his job of being a harbinger. thus, most nights consisted of you under the covers, curtains sheltering you from the moonlight, awaiting his return. most nights, that return never came. but some nights, nights like this one, a certain red-haired loverboy would finally walk through the wooden entryway and join you in your reverie.
his arms were quick to consume you, gently wrapping around your torso. his head found a home in your neck, the tops of his hair pressing against your nose. his affections were typically more dominating, for he much preferred your head to be cradled by his chest, but the fatigue from his work kept him from caring. beggers can't be choosers, as they say.
and it's not as if he could claim to be uncomfortable either, the layering of your bodies was the warmth he needed on any cold snezhnayan night.
ah, snezhnaya. the land of his hearth and home that oddly seperated him from you, his strength and stay. he originally joined the fatui to quench his thirst for battle, to provide a wealth of challenges to test his might; but, it would seem the greatest challenge now was fighting on the battlefield knowing what waited for him at home. though he was still very much enamoured by the feel of his hand clutched around a weapon, the affection he harbored for you grew by the minute.
because who, even a battle-hungry tool like himself, could resist the care of an angel on earth? the warmth of your smile, the softness of your touch? even now, as you both lie together, eyes lightly lidded and minds half-asleep, he finds his self-control depleted and his senses consumed by you. and, though he'd never admit it, he preferred it this way. despite considering himself a weapon, he'd rather fall ill with your love than die by the blade of the enemy.
as you laid there entangled, you both wanted nothing more than to be frozen in time—snuggled so close you shared a heartbeat. but this world was a cruel one, and dreams didn't always come true. a ringing noise from the corner of the bedroom demanded your lover's attention, and he groggily got up to heed it's call. in no more than a minute, ajax's tired expression was off his face and his boots were on his feet. before setting off, he took your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of it, saying, "sorry, love. i'll be home soon."
and then he was gone, out the door in which he came. you were gutted, but it wasn't a new feeling. to be honest, this recurring sentiment kept you company longer than childe did. but you guessed that was just the trouble with loving a wild thing: you were always left watching the door, waiting for him to walk back through it.
dainsleif — "in the crooks of your body, i find my religion." sappho.
dainsleif was never a holy man, the word itself left a bad taste in his mouth. recently, however, he has found himself following someone like the apostles trailed the lord: you.
how he went from avoiding archons to making one out of you, he had no idea. for all he knew now was the sound of your voice and the way honey escaped your lips; the feel of his fingers between your hair and how he wouldn't mind getting tangled in it; the abyss that was your eyes and drowning in the depth of them.
not that he would ever want you to know that's how he felt. after the despair of his nation and the loss of his mortality, he doesn't want to lift you up only to make you fall. he knows the pain of that feeling all too well. so while you said "hello" like an invitation, he said "goodbye" like a promise. but just as the gods broke their promises, so did he.
the twillight sword, named for his victories in battle, moved so gently as he pressed his body closer to your own. he was a dichotomy of sorts, his own personal paradox, with his person splintered into the roughness of his past and the softness of his future. he slipped an arm around your lower back and brought his other arm to rest over your head against the stone behind you, effectively trapping you between himself and a statue of the seven.
even with the close proximity, the blonde moved nearer still, and his pale hair could practically frame your own face.
"this seems rather sacreligious, does it not?" you breathed.
he gave a quick, indifferent glance to the anemo archon's statue pressing against your back. "i won't ask for his forgiveness. if anything, he would have to beg for mine." his words echoed in your ear and you could swear they were laced with poison.
"so you don't worship a god?"
he merely nodded in negation.
"what if i wanted you to worship me?"
"i would."
"you would?"
"yes," he held your body tighter, your gaze more intensely. "for in the crooks of your body, i find my religion."
in a final push against the stone diety, the knight closed the space between your lips; and, though he had never seen the inside of a church, his kiss was like a desperate prayer; fealty poured from his lips and your knees weakened with the taste of it. he kissed you like his life depended on it, like it was the only means by which he could achieve salvation.
his body consumed you—all you could sense was him. his scent tickled your nose; he smelled like sin. his taste flooded your mouth; he tasted like paradise. he was a cursed child of heaven and hell, and you wanted all of him.
diluc r. — "i could start fires with what i feel for you." david ramirez.
the hour hand was parallel and darkness consumed the sky. you didn't normally venture out this late, but you were struggling to sleep and desperately needed something besides laying open-eyed in bed to occupy your time. besides, the latern clutched in your left hand kept your vision dependable and your breathing even. did you really have anything to worry about?
yes. a lot of things, actually.
just after a few peaceful minutes alone, you heard crunching coming from behind, it's volume increasing in intensity as the seconds passed you by. it was a group of hilichurls beginning to trail you with their torches ablaze. you inwardly cursed yourself for your rash decisions and lack of preparedness and began your flee away from your pursuers. your heart beat acclerated with each step you took, the pads of your feet were stained with dirt and battered by tiny, loose branches.
you kept your face mostly forwards, only looking back to track your lead on them. but, as if it were someone's dying wish, your toes rammed into the edge of a rock portruding out from the ground and your face high-fived the earth.
with your unexpected (but not surprising) fall, you found yourself surrounded by a gang of fire-wielding hilichurls, all thirsting for blood. your blood, to be specific.
sighing in defeat, you slid your eyelids close and anticipated your end. or at least, a pain of some kind. but that feeling never came. hesistantly, you blinked your eyes open to find a man dressed in black swinging an enflamed claymore at your foes. with this man's sheer might, you kind of felt sorry for the little creatures, even though they tried to kill you mere moments ago. when the figure finished ridding the area of the hilichurls, the moonlight revealed his features as he turned to face you.
your mouth formed an "o" as you chuckled sheepishly, "um, thank you, diluc."
your relationship with the wine tycoon was...complicated. it could perhaps be best described as lot's of actions left undone and lots of words left unsaid.
his anger was tangible as he half-screamed, "why in teyvat are you out in the middle of the woods so late?"
"i couldn't sleep," your voice was barely audible.
though his anger was suffocating, you saw something else in his features besides fury. was it longing? desire? whatever it was, it looked alien on him.
silence was quick to consume the air between you, awkward glances and tense facial expressions the only communication ensuing. only with this quiet did you realize how close you were to him—so close you could cup his jaw with your palm. eventually, your mouth grew an itch that you needed to scratch. gathering confidence, you finally spoke.
"why are you looking at me like that?" your question was a whisper.
"like what?"
"like there's a flame behind your eyes."
"because i could start fires with what i feel for you." his reply was an oath.
he leaned in, lips touching lips, and all time seemed to stop. no longer did you hear the ticking of the clock, all that remained now was the beating of your heart and his. his kiss was heated in the way that made your toes curl and warm in the way that touched your heart at the same time.
he pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, asking, "and who wants to see the person they love mauled to death in the woods?"
as he brought his lips back to yours, you could feel his tounge slip into your mouth, a gentle yet insistent intrusion, and your body melted into his. you ran your fingers through his crimson hair, silently begging for more.
you were already so close—the pads of his fingers pressing desperately into your back, your legs wrapped around his torso, your scents mixing into a new genre of fragerence—but you wanted more. more, more, more.
itto a. — "his arms became a set of parentheses bracketing the sweetest secret phrase." christina lauren, love and other words
itto reminded you of the time old saying, a bull in a china shop. he was the notoriously clumsy harbinger of misfortune; but, while everyone else thought that to be a deal breaker, you found it to be an endearing part of the "arataki the-one-and-oni itto" package. some of your fondest memories with him were a product of his blundering behavior. one such memory was your first kiss:
waves rocked the wood beneathed your feet. you and itto had been taking a relaxing day trip on the ocean, simply cruising across the waves in each other's company. with the gentle dea breeze caressing your face and the sun's rays warming your skin, it was the most pacific day. until your lover spotted some fish, that is. with the weather as perfect as it was, it was not surprising that the purple-colored fish came out to play, their forms become visible as the neared the sea's surface. itto, his big arms and all, started paddling his palms through the water, thrashing about in an attempt to catch one.
"what in teyvat-" he couldn't see your face, but he could hear the smile in your voice.
"listen, you won't be laughing like that later when i catch you a new pet!"
looking back, he was kind of right—you certainly weren't laughing when this oaf of an oni fell overboard into the water and exclaimed, "help! i can't swim!" despite your shock, you curved your body over the helm of your small, shared boat and attempted to lug himback onboard. you didn't think you could do it, but, albeit arms straining, you managed to fish him out.
despite this feat, you soon realized that you can take an oni out of the water but you can't take the water out of an oni. since his eyes were still lidded even after slapping his face with the force of a thousand suns, you made an emergency decision: positioning yourself over his body, you pressed your lips to his, making your air his air. now, this wasn't as romantic as it sounds—you performed some wild chest compressions immediately afterwards. to your surprise, your rough first-aid skills did the job. itto's lashes slowly parted, revealing those two red eyes you adored so much.
between coughs, your lover exclaimed, "yo, i just had the coolest dream! we we're crusing on a boat and then some fish surfaced the water and then i tried to catch one and then i fell in-" his voice trailed when he saw the pair of humor and concern dancing in your eyes.
"i wasn't dreaming?"
"no."
"i almost drowned?"
"yes."
"you kissed me?"
"it's called CPR, you perv."
"well, could ya' do it again?"
laughing, you folded over the oni, your chest coming to rest on his. hands cupping his cheeks, you pressed a light and playful kiss against his lips. he moved his hands up to your shoulder blades and his arms thus became a set of parenthesis bracketing the sweetest phrase: you. fully trapped in itto's arms, your light pecks grew deeper with each passing second, leaving you breathless when you finally parted.
noticing your dazed expression, he gave you a smug smirk, saying, "told ya' you wouldn't be laughing later."
...you threw him back off the boat.
kaeya a. — "if you are intolerable, let me be the one to tolerate you." andrea gibson, lord of the butterflies.
a knock on the door stirred you from your slumber. flinging the duvet cover off your body, you wobbled towards to the front door of your mondstadt apartment. with a twist of your hand, the wooden entryway creaked open and revealed a pair of estranged brothers. the red-head stood steadily, acting as a pillar for his younger, highly intoxicated yet somehow concious brother.
"would you take him?"
"why would i not?"
you and diluc gently exchanged the fumbling calvary captain, muttering quiet "goodnights" as you went. kaeya's weight shifted onto to your shoulders and you helped maneuver him to a seat at your kitchen table as the older brother took his leave. your fingers held his chin, forcing his face to look at yours. your eyes searched his face, spotting beads of sweat framing his abnormally pale face. knowing he was in need of water, you swiped your index and middle finger through the air, conjuring a stream of water with your hydro vision. you slowly funnelled the adam's ale into his mouth, letting him swallow every drop.
"would you like something to eat? some toast maybe?" you questioned him softly.
he shook his head in negation, but his eyes betrayed him. you knew he wanted something to munch on, so you turned to prepare him some toast; but, it would appear that even his inebriated reflexes were faster than your sober ones. his hands jumped to your waist, holding you in place between his legs. "you don't have to do that. you should go back to bed," he began, his voice hoarse. "i'll be-"
"fine?" you scoffed. "kaeya, you can't lie and expect me to not notice. diluc of all people just dropped you off on my doorstep like a lost kitten. no, you are not fine. yes, i am getting you some food."
"but you shouldn't have to work yourself up over someone like me."
"someone like you?"
"someone self-destructive and sardonic. a glutton, a gimmick. an intolerable individual."
you gave him a tender smile, "well, you must not be too drunk if you can articulate all those fancy words," you pushed the hair out of his eyes before pressing on. "darling, if you are self-destrutive, let me piece you back together. if you are a glutton, let me give you more to take. if you are a gimmick, let me see the real you. if you are intolerable, let me be the one to tolerate you."
holding his stare, your words echoed through the room. you only hoped it had echoed in his mind too.
begrudgingly, kaeya dropped his hands, allowing you to retrieve something from the kitchen behind you. you topped some sourdough with bananas and honey, serving them on a ceramic plate. you sat with him as he had, using your melody to distract him from the voice inside his head. the conversation was a simple as "is the food okay" and "how was your day," but you could see the tension leave his shoulders with every word that left your lips.
with his last bite, his nerves finally calmed. you prayed this peace would never leave him.
-> likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! <3
— 𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐜 rushes back home instantly upon hearing about your sickness. He brings your favorite warm foods and brushes back your hair when you rest. He makes sure the maids are aware of your status and asks Adelinde for updates whenever he can’t be at your side.
“Are you feeling a little better?” he asks quietly. Night pours into the room and shadows dance against the creamy shade of the fire-painted walls. You cough, the soreness of your throat causing you to gag. You can feel Diluc’s eyes on you; his eyebrows creased with concern.
“A little. It’s better than yesterday,” you finally choke out. Diluc strokes your knuckles soothingly, beckoning you back to sleep. “That’s good. I’ll have the maids bring up more honey lemon tea for you tomorrow morning. For now, sleep tight, my Darling.”
— 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚 likely knows when you got sick even better than you did. He notices the second you complain about a light headache. He does everything right: makes you warm soups, hydrates you often, brings you medicine and keeps your body warm. You’re fond of the way he whips up another coat for the strays nearby whilst sitting by your side.
“Do you think Suki would look better in yellow or blue?” he ponders aloud, examining the fabrics. You point at the favored color, unable to speak due to the cough flowing out of your lungs at the moment. Thoma smiles at your decision and gets to work.
He glances at the time before setting his things aside and grab the syrupy medicine on your bedside. “Time for medicine again.” You shake your head, already tasting the artificial flavor of berry on your tongue. “Thoma, I’m fine, please,” you rasp out. But don’t count on him listening when it comes to your health.
— 𝐊𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐡𝐚 soaks towels and sits by your bedside while watching over you. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about your health but he passes his worries off when you give him a smile. He hums softly to help you sleep when the coughing is just a little too intense and he rubs your back gently when you just can’t seem to stop.
“Kazuha…?” The young man perks up instantly, smiling softly upon hearing your voice has gotten a tad better. “Yes, Love?” You sit up slowly, mulling over your symptoms before deciding what you need. “Could you get me some water, please?” Kazuha’s already preparing the warm water for you and all the while feeling you wrap your arms around his waist tiredly.
“Are you still feeling ill?” he asks, pouring the water into a warm, steamy mug. You nod against his back and he reluctantly peels away from you to hand you the drink. You frown at the loss of contact but sip tentatively regardless. “Just a little. I would be a lot better if you lay down with me for a bit,” you said with a cheeky grin. Who is Kazuha to deny you your needs?
— 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞 is used to caring for the sick. When his younger siblings get sick and his parents are busy, he’s the one that cares for them. He finds it calming to care for you and he admits it gives him an excuse to see you because once he finds out you’re sick he’s not leaving your side at all.
“What do you usually take when your sick?” you ask in a hoarse tone. He squeezes the water out of the towel, pondering your inquiry. “My mom would make me my favorite food and I would have to take this disgusting medicine that tasted like old licorice and sardines.” Childe scrunches up his face and makes an expression upon recollection and you smile fondly at him.
“And what are you going to give me?” you ask, closing your eyes for a brief moment while he lay the towel on your forehead. The heat engulfing your body seems to simmer down and you breathe out in relief. Childe chuckles, “Well, if I get lucky and find it, maybe I’ll give you the same thing. It will probably teach you a lesson in not taking care of yourself, Sweetheart.”
req. hehe… can you please do a part two of the sleepy reader headcanons but with kaeya? you can add any other characters you’d like! thankie!!
cw. sleepy!reader, no warnings just fluff
includes. kaeya, thoma, beidou, ningguang
note. this is basically a part two of seasonal naps, which is just basically the reader being sleepy. that’s it.
masterlist. part i
wordcount. 0.6k
requested by anon
kaeya who chuckles when he sees you easily dozing off. he found it adorable, even more amusing to see you sleep so easily. his eyes softened at your figure and he found himself to be at ease. he knew that you came by his office to keep him company as you had finished your errands earlier but really he finds it adorable that you snuggle up on the couch and fast asleep. maybe there’s a bit of a sense of jealousy that you can sleep so quickly when your lover is right near you and working off but he doesn’t truly mind it. when he finally finished his portion of his work, he got up from his seat and stretched, seeing you still asleep and slightly snoring. he smiled ever so softly and went up to your figure, holding your hair before kissing you on your forehead. “wake up my dear, you’ll hurt your back if you continue to sleep in this position” he nudges you as you groan and hum, leaving him to chuckle at you.
thoma who quickly went up to your sleeping figure and placed a blanket on you. he who tucks you in, or princess carries you to bed because you have fallen asleep near a wooden pole while waiting for him. he, who usually prioritise his cleaning session stops dead in his tracks once he saw a glimpse of you in the corner of his eye. thoma would smile at how peaceful you’d look and he’d also wonder whether or not you would be comfortable like that. he’d try to wake you up, to make sure you’d sleep in a more comfortable position but you didn’t wake up. it reminded him that you’re a heavy sleeper and a lovey sigh came out of his mouth as he carefully places you in his arms. walking to the bedroom with you within him, he’d give you soft forehead kisses and cherishes every single moment he’d have with you, even when you’re fast asleep.
the electro user only sighs, but she smiles at the way you look. in beidou’s eyes, you were already an angel and seeing how you’d look while sleeping made her feel at ease. though it does make her wonder how you’re legitimately able to fall asleep when the waves are harsh and the weather might go down rather badly today. she’d softly tap on your cheeks to wake you up but seeing how you’d groan and turn the other way made her chuckle, finding you adorable. she’d ruffle your hair even when you’re not fully conscious and fully carries you with no problem. by the time you’d wake up, you’re in her arms as she directs the crew to manoeuvre through the storm. you’d feel guilty but she’d give you a smile and ruffle your hair once again, telling you that it’s fine but she was more worried about you being thrown off the ship with how unedged you were in your sleep.
she was worried for a moment, ningguang who had thought something happened to you when she hasn’t seen you for a while only to find you sleeping at the back of the chamber. she who sighs at how carefree you are could only remind her of how she was back then. even if she had only been trying to earn money, she still felt happy and enjoyed every moment of it. a girl who came from nothing rising up into the riches and becoming a person of importance. you, who had been following her and joining her ever since you both were young, you’d admire her and she would do the same. you are her treasure, an important person, but she could never bring herself to understand how you are able to sleep everywhere. she, who could just sigh and smile before insisting someone who bring you into her room to rest.
“you’re kind of short,” you repeated, with a nonchalant shrug. at his silence, you looked up and said, “there’s nothing wrong with that, of course. i still—“
“you… you think i’m short?”
“yes, but really—“
“i’m— i’m taller than you!” childe exploded, standing up from the dinner table as if to further prove the point.
you looked up at him. “so? nearly everyone is.”
“well, yeah but i’m really taller than you.”
“not really… anyways, childe, i don’t mind you being short—“
“but i’m not short!”
you placed your silverware down and reached over and took his hand. “childe… don’t you think they gave you that codename for a reason?”
The Best of Me Nicholas Sparks // Holding Hands Helga Mcleod // Fleabag 01×04 // Watching you talk on the phone, I consider the empty space around atoms Rhiannon McGavin // Two Lovers Vincent van Gogh // Still Holding Hands Norman Rockwell // San Bernadino The Mountain Goats // Everything Everywhere All at Once dir. Daniel Kwan Daniel Sheinert
summary: reincarnation au, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
1.
"What happens when we die?"
The question came unprompted. Lucifer's gaze flitted down to you. His hand hovered in the air, the pink petal sitting still between his fingers as a cloak of tension fell upon you.
It was one of the rare weekends where his schedule was clear and he wasn't already worn out by the week's work, so an impromptu vacation was what you went for. It just so happened that the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. It had been a while since your last visit to the human world, so Lucifer figured that it would be the perfect trip.
And it was– the park was packed with families and friends, but you were lucky enough to have scored a spot right under a pink canopy. He could lean against the trunk and adorn your hair with petals, sake and bentos forgotten on the far side of the picnic mat, as the wind carried his troubles into the far far distance…
… where his brothers were loitering.
Of course they had to tag along. It wasn't like he had a choice.
Whatever. He was determined not to let their intrusion ruin this perfectly serene date.
And then you dropped the question. It was so sudden– there was nothing in this rosy paradise that could've provoked that kind of thought. It made him wonder whether death was a topic that constantly plagued your mind.
You stole a look at him. He was unmoored, to say the least. "There's no saying what happens. There's heaven and hell, but you could also get reincarnated or become a wandering soul."
"I see," you shuffled, shielding your true reaction behind closed lids. "Do I get to choose?"
"Would you like to?"
"Sure."
"Which one would you choose, then?"
"Mm… hell. Isn't that right below Devildom? You can come pick me up."
He scoffed, putting the petal down on the side. "Too bad you don't get to decide."
While Lilith was reincarnated as a human, it was through Diavolo's effort. Generally, souls, humans and non-humans alike, did not have a say in matters after death. They would simply be thrown into some divine judgment. And being a demon himself, death was still far away. It rarely crossed his mind what would happen after his end. Even when it did, he would just brush it off.
"Well, you can still find me if I get sent to heaven. And if I get reincarnated…" You trailed off, brows clenched in deep thought. "I'm going to be a whole different person, right?"
"Yes."
A pause. You hesitated for a split second before you said, "I don't want to lose any of this."
Lucifer ran his fingers through your hair, sending the petals into disorder. He didn't want you to fear death and what came after. Humans had such a ridiculously short lifespan (again, a fact that he hated to linger on). It would be a waste to spend its entirety dreading the imminent end.
"It's nothing to be afraid of," he said in the softest voice he could muster, "Though if you really do forget, I will just have to find you."
You hummed. "How are you going to do that?"
"With this." He took your hand and placed it above his heart. Your eyes flew open. He didn't have to say any more for you to understand– the pact, a bond that had woven itself into your very being, the very embodiment of the feelings you had for each other. Was it possible that it could transcend lifetimes as well?
A master at reading your expressions, he bent down to kiss your forehead, like a shot of sunlight piercing through and dispersing a storm. Your lips curved into a smile. "I still have a long way to go, my love. I will meet you and love you again and again. I promise."
Mammon's voice traveled from a distance, beckoning the both of you to join them. Lucifer pulled you onto your feet and grabbed your hand, giving it a brief squeeze. It was enough to chase the gloom out of your mind.
–
Your death was instant. Lucifer felt it before he knew it– the jab in his heart. The twist. Then, the fall.
It was unlike anything he'd felt before. He rested his hand where the pain originated, feeling for the magic flowing in the pact, but it was gone now, slipping through his fingers into nothingness. It felt as though his heart had been torn apart, half of it bitten off by some brutal abomination. All that was left was the ache. It overcame him, so much that he couldn't see anything in front of him despite his eyes being wide open. He didn't flinch when he felt the spilled tea pooling around his trembling hand.
Your death didn't just happen to you, it happened to him as well. The moment your heart stopped beating, the pact broke apart, and his end of it took the brunt.
The rest was a blur of memories. Memory of your cold skin, the funeral, carving your name onto the gravestone. Memory of standing in front of it, a bouquet of white flowers in hand, and the fragility of a human's life.
The first few years were bleak. The house was so much quieter without you, and so much darker with seven demons in mourning. Lucifer would wake up in the dead of the night just to find his hand outstretched at the cold side of his bed. He buried himself in toil, even openly asked for it. It worked, but only for a while, because for how long could one ignore their heart's longing? For him, there was always something amiss. In the scarce moments when he was happy, it was fleeting, and was never enough to be bliss.
Just like that, more years passed, paving way for decades.
It would be a hundred years before his heart came alive again.
2.
Lucifer recalled vividly the day he felt it- no, you . It started as a spark that roused him from his slumber, which turned into a boulder dragging his heart down. He had almost forgotten how much a heart was supposed to weigh.
In desperation, he reached out for the intangible magic— something that he hadn’t done in a long time in fear of disappointment— and felt it materializing into a golden thread. It wavered and shuddered, but it was there, an invitation, a promise that if he focused on it hard enough, it would bring him to you.
It took almost zero contemplation. Lucifer pulled out his clothes from the bottom of the wardrobe, left behind a hasty note, and stumbled into the human world. He reminded himself over and over again that a brief look would be enough. Just to know that you were doing well, wherever you were, whoever you were. He would be satisfied, and then he would move on.
The human world had made a few shifts during his absence. Skyscrapers shot even higher into the sky, like arrows aimed at the sun. Roads in the cities were wider now, but it was as congested as ever. Lucifer held onto the invisible thread tugging at his heartstrings and zig-zagged his way through the crowd.
Searching for a single person in billions, it turned out, was arduous. He was constantly terrified that you might've walked past him without him realizing, carried away in the waves of people. It took him days to reach the quieter part of the city, where the pact showed him no more clues.
It was an overcast day with a storm brewing in the grey clouds above. The air was still with anticipation of rain. Lucifer spent some time sauntering around the local market before walking out onto the concrete roads, where the first raindrop hit his skin. It was a drizzle at first, but it got heavier by the second, and before he knew it, it'd turned into a downpour. Umbrellas bloomed around him, and the unprepared ones spread out to find cover.
He found shelter under an awning outside a closed flower shop. The exotic flowers bloomed ever so brilliantly behind the thick glass wall. You would've loved them , he mused. You'd always had a soft spot for flowers.
Hurried footsteps pattered closer. A figure rushed under the roof, panting slightly after all the running. Lucifer paid them no mind, still absorbed in his thoughts. It was only when they started mumbling that his attention was torn away.
"I can't believe I left my umbrella at home…"
He held his breath at the distinct voice. He could recognize it anywhere– amidst the noisiest party, on the other side of a blizzard, even decades and decades away. He turned.
There you were: untangling your damp hair, eyes darting out at the flooding roads with impatience, as though you were completely unaware of his presence. But you weren't, because you turned to him as soon as you felt his astonished stare.
Little had changed about you, which wasn't to say that you looked exactly the same, just that you were like a painting, a portrait. Though he could make out the slight changes in your features, you were just as radiant as he'd remembered you to be.
"Annoying, isn't it?" You jutted your jaw towards the rain, trying to strike a conversation with the stranger. (Right, a stranger. You bore no memory of him, which shouldn't have hurt as much as it did considering that he'd seen it coming miles away.)
"Yes," He said. The response was terse because he suddenly forgot how to speak. There was a racing heart stuck painfully in his tightened throat. "Yes, it is." He tried again.
You flashed him a tight-lipped smile before turning away.
There it is, he told himself. The brief look you were looking for. You've got it now. You should go.
"I know it sounds absurd," before he could move, you faced him again, a hesitant shine in your eyes. "But have we met before?"
In hindsight, if he were to pinpoint the exact moment he knew that he was doomed for eternity, it would be this. As the rain raged on and the world enclosed around you, he realized that maybe love wasn't a question after all.
–
It was easy falling in love with you. After all, your soul was one and the same. Little by little, his heart mended itself, and happiness seeped back into his life. He spent most of his time in the human world now, right where you were, and he had the impression that he was drunk, intoxicated by the new things he got to learn about you, by every unintended touch and all the passionate ones, by instants when your heart danced the same rhythm.
He'd never thought he could have this again, but you managed to find your way back to each other. He would watch the moonlight spill onto your hair in the dark and feel invincible, like death had nothing on you.
And death, lurking in the corner with an amused smirk, let him have his fun for a handful of years. When it decided that time was up, though, it wasn't so lenient.
It manifested as a reckless vehicle and trapped you unconscious on the hospital bed for days before finally releasing its chokehold. As the monitor beeped its flat tone, the doctor explained over and over again, they're gone, we're sorry, they're gone . Lucifer pushed them out of the way with his reckless strength and whisked you away.
He remembered bargaining with reapers, with angels, with Diavolo again (he'd done it once, he could do it again). He remembered the tremble possessing his body as he pleaded and pleaded until the words were only blood in his mouth. Diavolo tried to pry his hands away from you, but he wouldn't let go. "There's nothing I can do, Lucifer." Lucifer shook his head. "It's too late. They're already gone. I'm sorry." There must be some way. "Shouldn't you have known? "
Yes. He should've known, which was why his chest hurt twice as much. The room sank into silence as his cries subdued. Holding your icy hand, he swore that he would never love you again.
But we all know how the story goes.
3.
Twenty-nine thousand and two hundred days later, in front of two identical graves with different names, you tapped on the door of his heart. This time, he turned a blind eye, because the thought of losing you the third time was mortifying. Who in their right mind would sign up for that kind of pain?
That's the thing about grief. It messed with people's heads and made fools of them. Lucifer knew better than to make the same mistake, but his heart was constantly demanding its other half, and it would not rest.
In his defense, he hadn't meant to fall in love again, but all his high walls crumbled at the mere sight of you– not as worn photos, not as gravestones, but as a living soul. You welcomed him into your life with open arms. Acquaintanceship grew into stolen glances, and before long, you were lovers again, pushing the rusty grief out and making space for happiness.
But it wasn't easy. He had no idea when you were going to leave him again, which led to protectiveness on his end. He was sure that, if he were around you at all times, he could prevent accidents from happening. It made him as sensitive as ever. That time he lost you in the crowd, he got so hysterical that he refused to let go of you for the rest of the day. It was only until you confessed that his grip around your hand was too firm that he resolved to stick by your side.
"Can I ask you something?" You asked from the other side of your studio apartment, stirring your mug of warm drink. It was a small flat, but it felt like home to him.
He hummed.
"Are you afraid that I'm going to leave you one day?" You refused to meet his eyes. "You can ignore it if you want to. I know it sounds dumb."
The prolonged silence was what made you look up. Lucifer was so still that he might as well have been petrified. Finally, he parted his mouth. "Why do you ask?"
"You always act like I'm going to disappear. I'm not going anywhere. You know that, right?"
But you were. You didn't know it yet, but you were always going to leave.
"Luci," you called. "You can tell me anything."
Sincerity welled up in your eyes. He wanted to tell you everything so badly, so that he could lift the weight of memories off his back, but would you even believe him? If he told you that you were lovers in past lives and that your souls were bound together, would you call him a lunatic?
His legs moved before he could make a decision. Lifting your hand to his heart and vice versa, he recounted fragments of your previous lifetimes: how you first met, how you stole his heart, and how he'd not known peace ever since. Unreadable emotions flashed across your face. He didn't stop until he'd got everything off his chest, throat parched as he waited for your response.
"You can choose not to believe it," he said. "It must sound absurd."
"Then am I more absurd for thinking that it actually makes sense?" You laughed nervously. "I mean, the first time I saw you, I already found you familiar. I'd always had this impression that I've known you for a long, long time, I just never thought anything of it. I– I'm so sorry, Lucifer, for making you bear everything alone, but I'm here now."
Those single, simple words were full of an ocean's worth of comfort. The tears came in floods. Lucifer buried his face into your shoulder and dampened your shirt. Neither of you cared. In this moment, you were just two souls clinging onto each other in the vicious currents of life.
"I won't leave you behind again, I promise. I will remember you," you repeated it, desperate to make it true. "I will remember you. I will remember you. I will–"
4.
"Can I have your name?" You asked behind the counter.
"It's Lucifer."
The corner of your mouth quirked up. "Alright, one black coffee for Lucifer."
You'd taken the path of a barista in this life, and had opened a neat little coffee shop in the corner of this coastal town.
Over the span of a hundred and three years, humans had made drastic changes to the landscape. He could scarcely see evidence of the old geography now, let alone get from place to place. Had he not had his heart as a compass, he never would've been able to find you.
Things were easier this time around. You got to know each other, you fell in love, you spent time together. He decided not to come clean like last time. It hadn’t gone the way he'd wanted. The knowledge had filled you with guilt, which, when mixed with affection, didn't feel so pleasant. He didn’t want you to love him out of obligation.
Another reason was that he didn’t want to tell you that you were always going to die regretfully young. No one could live with that kind of knowledge.
So he settled for simplicity. You, a coffee shop, the warm sun. He did his best to leave no regrets, to live everyday as if it was your last. When you died, it hurt just as much, but he took to the pain like fish to water.
During his years of waiting, as he stood before the three graves, he wondered for how long this could go on for. There was only so much breaking and healing a heart could handle before it would come apart at the seams. The possibility of a never-ending cycle was ghastly. He distracted himself by thinking about all the sweet moments you would share together in the next life.
5.
While the landscapes might change, nature never lost its colors. Lucifer rested his head against the bumpy window and looked out at the flashing scenery. Scarce houses were distributed on the green land. Behind the green was a lake, then mountains that went as far as his eyes could see. It was a sight he could never get bored of.
The train came to a stop. Passengers came and went. He hadn't the slightest idea where it was bringing him, but it didn't matter. His heart had led him here after incessant searching, and it had always been right.
Someone moved into the seat opposite him. He could tell it was you without looking.
You were typing on your phone with one hand, the other hidden inside the pocket of your jacket. Little had changed about you, though even if you were to don a completely different appearance, he could still recognize you.
You grinned at your screen. He hadn’t heard your laugh for so long that the simplest hint was enough to send his stomach into a whirlwind.
The view outside started moving again. As sufficient as it was to simply be in your presence, he still wished to strike a conversation with you. Then the rest would come together by itself, just like how it’d been all those times before.
At least that was what he expected. You never addressed him. Whatever was on your phone seemed to be hogging all your attention. Time passed on. At some point, just as he was about to say something to you, you pulled out your other hand. Sunlight caught on something wrapped around your ring finger.
The world froze.
–
Lucifer had thought that there would be nothing worse than your deaths. He was wrong.
It turned out that he was two years late. By the time he made it, you already had eyes for someone else.
He hadn’t planned to linger, but he did— as a passing stranger, as the customer in the far corner of the restaurant, as a shopper looking at fruits he knew nothing of. To keep an eye out for you, that was the excuse he used. It worked for the first few months. A full year later, not so much.
There were a few things going on in his mind :
Disbelief. Anger. Betrayal. For almost four centuries he had devoted himself to finding you in every lifetime despite knowing that there would be no happily ever after. He let the grief drag his heart through jagged rocks. Why couldn’t you have waited for him the way he did you for so many years?
Underneath gritted teeth, jealousy. Because it wasn’t him whom you’re smiling up at. It wasn’t him who got to hold you in his arms, who got to taste your mediocre yet homely cooking (did your dishes still taste the same? He wouldn’t know). You wouldn’t even see him in this crowded world. Maybe he should hate you, maybe he would feel better that way. Yet the idea was like a match thrown into gunpowder. It only burnt him more.
He only got to talk to you once. You were browsing flowers with your partner as he stood on the other side, fingers rubbing soft, heart-shaped petals absent-mindedly.
“…I don’t want to pick a random one,” you said to them in a low voice. “I need something more meaningful.”
“Yea,” they looked at the empty counter. The shop owner had gone into the back of the shop. “Maybe we should wait for a bit.”
Lucifer heaved a deep breath and picked up the vase he had been toying with. One step. Two steps. Three steps. He came up to you, tucking his closer arm behind his back to keep the want to touch you at bay.
“How about this?” He started. You turned to him, and for the first time, truly registered him. “Hollyhock. Fairly easy to grow, just make sure it gets enough sun.”
“What does it represent?”
“Epiphany, nostalgia, ‘remember me’.” He pushed the words out. In his throat was a silent pleading : here is my bare heart. Please tell me you recognize it.
You took the plant from him and observed it. He noticed the twitch in your brows, a sign that you were in deep thought. Did they know this about you? He spared them a glance. They were leaning into your space. He hated every single thing about this. His heart was beating out of his chest.
“It’s a nice message, promising to remember each other and all,” you turned your back to him, completely and utterly ignorant. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s perfect,” they smiled, disgustingly sweet, and left a kiss on your temple. “I’ll go pay for it.”
By the time you remembered to give your thanks, Lucifer was already nowhere to be seen.
Outside, as he shot through the crowd in haste, he caught a glimpse of his reflection glaring at him, eyes shining and mouth trembling.
At the core of all the things he was feeling (rage and jealousy and all that came between) was fear, because for the first time, he learnt that his heart could be wrong.
His return to Devildom was immediate. There was no place for him in this world.
—
When his heart told him you’d died, he showed up at your funeral only after the guests had left. He peeked inside the casket and felt sourness in his nose. Even if he could kill his desires, he couldn’t kill the ache in his chest or the tears streaming down his face at the sight of your lifeless body.
“Here. Just let it out,” your partner walked up to him and patted his shoulder. After he’d calmed down, they chewed on the inside of their cheek, “I don’t think I’ve met you before. Were you friends?”
So much more.
“Something like that.” He said and tore himself away.
6.
Your life was largely occupied by two things, one during the day and another during the night.
In your waking moments, it was the feeling that you'd lost something, much like how people would forget their earphones in their back pockets, only that you had no idea what you were missing, and thus had no way of finding it.
You'd tried searching under the bed, in the library, even online where no one treated you seriously, but nothing turned up. As you grew up, you came to understand that it wasn't an object at all, but something deep within.
A part of yourself had been erased, leaving a gaping hole in its wake.
This kind of longing changed you in more than one way. You would be walking on the street and feel the need to turn back, only to see nothing in the crowd. You would look into the mirror and find yourself unrecognizable. Being cut in half meant that you saw the world in half too– all its beauty and all its ugliness. Movies that made your friends weep couldn't force a tear out of you. Jokes that had the whole audience chortling only elicited a chuckle from you.
"You're pretty cold-hearted, aren't you?" Someone (you couldn't remember who. It would seem that even your memories were fragmented.) said once, to which you responded with an uncaring shrug. In retrospect, you should've corrected them like this, "I'm not cold-hearted. I'm missing part of it."
The only way to escape the brokenness of your being was to fall asleep, but even in the land of nod peace was scarce. You dreamed way too much. At night, in the early morning, even during the twenty-minutes nap you took on Saturdays. They were mostly pleasant: a grotesque mansion perched on a small hill where the sun never shined on, comforting laughter echoing down hallways, the warmth of a fireplace. A city drenched in afternoon rain, the starry canvas above a green field. For the less pleasant ones : a wild beast hurtling at you at full speed, disease crawling under your skin, being chased by something less than human.
Mostly they didn't bother you, despite how familiar they felt. No, what really bothered you was this: the man who was always present in all these dreams, the man whose face was always obscured. You dreamed of the way sunset caught in his hair, as if he was consuming a star. You dreamed of him, the way he walked and the way he talked. You dreamed of him, yet you couldn't recall his name.
And the most nightmarish of them all: Under a shower of pink petals, he was making you a promise, and you knew that this promise was the key to all your questions, so you made sure to memorize it. But as soon as you woke up, the words quickly ebbed away from you until there was nothing left on your tongue. You were back to knowing nothing.
That was to say, your life was largely occupied by two things, one being the haunted house that was yourself, and the other being the ghost that did the haunting.
–
"I have to say, I expected you to seek my help a long, long time ago," was what Solomon had said when Lucifer asked him for a way out. Naturally, as a sorcerer who had made pacts with more demons than stars in the sky, he must’ve had to cut ties with a few, or at least knew how to. He wasted no time bringing out a flask of mauve potion. It was as if he had been waiting for it.
Lucifer had to agree with him. He should’ve let you go instead of letting himself drown in centuries of grief. It had manipulated him for too long, this good-for-nothing heart of his that tethered you to him.
Which was why he was going to end it once and for all.
Back at the house, he poured the potion into a glass and grimaced at the pungent smell. Solomon had warned him that the taste would be more than unsavory. All the more reason to mix it with demonus.
Even as he was dissolving the potion, the small voice in the back of his head was still protesting. Don’t do it, it’s begging. You’ll regret it.
He wouldn’t. He raised the glass and held his breath.
The liquid reflected his furrowed brows. Instead of emptying it, his arm stayed in place, and started to grow sore from the angle. Huffing, he placed the drink down and opted for a stroll around his room instead.
Once he’d gathered enough determination again, he sat himself in front of the desk and glared at the glass like it was a villain with a shit-eating grin. He could do it. He should do it, for everyone’s sake. Just one gulp and he would be free of torment. He would no longer know when you’ve returned to life. He would no longer be tempted to meet you. He would no longer be tricked into playing another inevitable tragedy.
That was all it was, tragedy. Everything had been a mistake from the start. From meeting you to subjecting himself to loving you. A slight miscalculation, a tiny indulgence was all it took for everything to spiral down.
Yet the small voice didn’t agree. It can’t all be bad, it argued. There were good memories. Priceless ones. Don’t you remember any of them?
Of course he remembered. He twirled the glass absent-mindedly as he recounted the days spent with contentment and nights in each other’s presence. Sitting at the dining table with food just enough for two. Feeling your arms around him on the sofa, solid and warm. The tears that he shed in front of you were never those of sorrow, but those of joy. More precisely, the joy of being able to meet you again.
It was only when he was alone that he could be honest. He still missed you. He missed you like hell . And it wasn’t fair because whenever you died, you took away so much of his happiness. He only ever had a few years (decades, if he was lucky) before everything was ripped away from him again.
The funny part was that he just kept going for it. Every single time, he ran into the fire. Maybe it was his heart that took the wheel and made the decision. Maybe the pact was the only reason he managed to find you— so that the pain would go. But he wasn’t so blind that he would blame it entirely on magic. Was it not also him who made the choice to see you? Somewhere along the way, was it not his belief that, even just for a short while, your tenderness would make all the pain worthwhile?
This must not go unsaid— it was love through and through. Love was the only trap he would dive into head first, reason and pride abandoned. He would be nothing without it.
The concoction looked to him like a stupid mistake now. After all, did he not promise to find you no matter what? He had to keep his words so that when you finally broke free of this laborious cycle, he would be able to face you with pride.
As if on cue, he heard a ring in his heart, much like a doorbell, and with it the door opened and sunlight spilled in.
—
It was drizzling the day you got onto the express. Despite the rain, the summer air was still ruthless, clinging to your skin like a layer of mist. You cupped the iced coffee for some much needed relief.
This wasn’t how you’d planned to spend your weekend. You were supposed to stay in, pull up some movies, and waste the time away, but after another night of dreams filled with deja vu, you decided to put the day off to good use.
After some research, the pink tree— cherry blossoms, to be exact— turned out to be more than just your rich imagination. While such species did exist, they were facing the dire threat of extinction. Among the few that survived in the world, one was just a few stops away from you. There was no reason not to go, if just for the peace of mind. Even if you didn’t get anything out of it, it would still be a nice trip.
The train came to a stop. You were flooded out onto the platform, but the group dwindled as you made your way towards your destination until you were the only one mounting the cobblestone path.
To say you weren’t disappointed would be a lie. Sure, the sight was out of this world. The cherry tree was massive and rich with flowers, and with every hint of breeze petals fell and pooled around the trunk. No, the disappointment came from the lack of spectators. It was just you and the tree on this dry, unplanted soil.
The flowers provided shelter from the rain. You lay down directly underneath and watched the sun filter in through the gaps, dappling all over you. The summer heat left you gradually, courtesy of the occassional wind.
Any other human, upon being in your shoes, would probably find themselves in solace, but all you felt was melancholy. As always, it wasn’t enough.
You didn’t know how much time had passed, but you started slipping in and out of consciousness. You were still under the blossoms, but there was something else now— distant voices, sake in the air, fingers running through your hair. The brief pressure on your forehead felt so real that there was no way it could've been an illusion.
In anticipation, you opened your eyes.
Of course, no one was there.
Shaking your head, you got on your feet and spared the tree one last glance before turning away. Before you could take another step though, you stopped in your tracks.
Your eyes landed on a figure, frozen in his movement as if you’d caught him off guard. He hesitated, then continued walking closer.
A flurry of petals blocked your view, but then he was still there, hair windblown and tousled.
At that moment, you knew that you knew him.
There were no doubts. Every atom that made you up had him memorized. The clarity was throbbing in your heart, restricting your throat. His name slipped your mind, but you were certain, because despite the fact that his expression was unreadable, you could picture his grin. You were out of earshot, yet his voice fluttered in the air. You could trace the size of his hand, accurate down to the very inch.
For the first time in your life, you felt it all— things that were powerful and magnificent enough to conquer you and render you speechless. He came to a stop a few feet away, and, recognizing your expression, his shoulders relaxed.
“You found me,” the words came naturally, despite the fact that it didn't make sense.
A smile fought its way to his lips, as if saying, I kept my promise.
kaeya is quite aloof on the surface. it's a known fact, and causes most people in the knights of favonius and everyday citizens of mondstadt alike to keep him at arm's length.
however, when it comes to you, the calvary captain finds it extremely difficult to keep up his mysterious façade. his one visible eye follows you for longer than it should when he sees you hurrying down the stairs to pick up an order from wagner. he's quick to slip a pile of mora onto the counter at the good hunter to pay for your to-go before you can even open your wallet. at night, he keeps a sharp eye on you at the angel's share, almost daring anyone to lay a sleazy finger on you.
"your crush is showing," rosaria muses, taking a long sip of her wine.
kaeya hums, cheeks raising in a smile as you sing along with venti to an old shanty in the corner of the tavern.
You craved it, if love in the stories you’ve read was anything to go by.
You craved the idea of it, coming home to someone everyday, knowing that their embrace was at your beck and call.
But you feared it.
Fearing the way that it could consume people, turn them into something they were not. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t natural. How one measly emotion could so entirely change someone.
You craved love, but you despised it nonetheless.
Still…
You smiled at the thought of your little crush developing, unsure of whether or not you’d need to stomp it down before it became stronger.
How would it feel, to lay with them, fingers carding through their hair,
Or to be the cause of their lips up turning into an expression of joy,
Or even have someone be so completely and utterly devoted to you, hands and voice praising every part of you,
You sighed, gazing out the window, seeing them run by before stopping, as if they felt your gaze. They turned, and you made eye contact.
Dawn Winery requests the presence of the Cavalry Captain tomorrow evening. An important discussion will be held over dinner, and your family is invited to partake in the meal alongside you.
Regards,
Adelinde and D
P.S. Feel free to dress comfortably. No need for formalities.
The moment Adelinde sent that letter, Diluc began to clean the mansion like a maniac. She’s never seen anything quite like it. It’s not that Master Diluc has been an unclean young man, but the fervor with which he cleans has never reached anywhere near the fever pitch it lingers at now.
“Adelinde,” Diluc calls across the room. “What should we do about the vase?”
“The vase? Is something the matter with it?” Stretching to replace a book on the shelf, Adelinde scrunches her eyebrows with the exertion. Diluc runs up behind her, reaching to slot the book in place for her.
When did he grow so big and responsible? She knows it’s been a while - this was not an overnight transformation. Once in a while, though, she’s struck with the realization all over again.
tw: established relationship, pure fluff, mention of Childe’s real name, spoiler for Zhongli’s identity
word count: 2.3k+ words in total
Albedo
The Chief Alchemist is the most creative on this whole list when it comes to your wedding rings. First of all, they are undoubtedly matching, have the most intricate design he put a lot of meaning into and everything from the sketch to the final product was done by his own hands with your preferences and additions kept in mind. Secondly, he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t make use of his vast knowledge and alchemy skills.
You have absolutely no idea how he managed to do it, but the man made some sort of connection between the two rings. Since both of you never take it off, even in biting cold both bands remain warm - because the skin of one another keeps it as such and transfers it to the twin ring, creating a constant heat exchange.
But that’s not all! Albedo is truly a genius, because he made metal receptive to the touch. If you rub your ring, your lover will receive a feeling as if you are gliding the tips of your fingers right where his own ring is wrapped and vice versa. This helps a lot when his work requires his presence on Dragonspine for a long period of time. You can exchange small kisses and caresses like this and it is really comforting and gives both of you strength to carry on with your tasks until you meet again.
And believe me, Albedo is aware how special and unique you feel ever since he presented you with such an invention for you two to share. Thus, if one day someone learns of your rings’ secret and comes to him with a request to create the same pair - he’ll refuse no matter how much mora offered. He worked hard to make you happy and every moment he managed is sacred to him.
Warnings: slight angst, more comfort and fluff than anything, not proofread, i appreciate people telling me that i missed to tag a character but the truth is i dont tag all the chars cause i think i have limited tags, no? some protective genshin guys
Personal Favourites: Tartaglia, Xiao, Zhongli
Other works in this series: (Part 1 - When someone badmouths you)
Aether
his heart breaks the same way as yours, if not even more
doesn’t say anything at first but will take you in his arms silently and make comforting sounds, rubbing your back up and down
his priority is making you feel better first, instead of bombarding you with questions about what happened.
When you’ve calmed down a little he’ll start wiping your tears and will give you a gentle smile
“You can talk about it whenever you’re ready, Y/N. In this world and the next, I’ll always be here by your side,”
Just a simple something I had in mind for a Genshin otome game... I have 0 attention span, 0 time, and 0 knowledge to write and build a full-fledged 3D game with intricate stories, plot, and mechanics. This is just a simple visual novel with a streamlined plot and partial voices. You should be able to complete everything in like... 30 minutes long in total. Might be less, even.
◇ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ◇
The game will contain the following: established relationship, FLUFF, comfort, lots of pet names, suggestive themes, lots of kissy sounds on some routes, implications of violence (not towards player), a sprinkle of protective behavior
◇ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ◇
Zhongli, Xiao, Childe, Diluc, Kaeya, Itto, Kazuha
(Zhongli is selected by default because who doesn’t love geo daddy???)
◇ 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫? ◇
This is a very self-indulgent project, hence the dialogues were written with fem!player in mind. It will contain suggestive themes, so please be aware of that before downloading / playing!
◇ 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲? ◇
Yes, it's totally free - in fact, I do not accept payment.
◇ 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲? ◇
Click the link to download the appropriate file based on your OS. Only Windows, Linux, and Mac are supported. No, I won't release it on other platforms.
Open the game, and you’ll find that it’s pretty straightforward. Customize your profile, select your love interest, then start the game.
There are no wrong answers and the love interest can be changed anytime (just go back to main menu and select the character’s picture on the right side).
◇ 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬? ◇
You can personally send links to this post / the game’s itch.io page to your friends via DMs, but outside of that (reposting), NO. For example, posting about this on Reddit is prohibited.
◇ 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞? ◇
This is a super casual project.
Scripts are not proofread. Probably lots of grammar mistakes.
Novel format without narration (full dialogs).
There are no actual sprites, just official art and something akin to a speech bubble to cater to the characters’ changes in ‘expression’.
There are voices, but only partial - mostly just grunts, chuckles, kisses, and stuff. I’m using JP voices EXCEPT for Itto because Max Mittelman is a gem. No, I will not add other languages' voice versions.
Sound cues and voices are quite important for this game so I recommend using headphones.
Depending on when you open the game (morning, afternoon, nighttime, midnight), your currently selected love interest might greet you differently.
To reiterate, there are no wrong answers.
Selecting all talk/act options for a character will unlock a small event where they'll give you unique gifts.
I lowkey have so many ideas on how to expand on this in terms of gameplay and options but let’s be real here it probably won’t happen lol why can’t my brain be this creative when it comes to work
◇ 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐮𝐬??? ◇
No... That said, anyone can literally say that. Please be responsible for your own actions.
I have also released other games on the same itch.io profile, so this isn't my first rodeo. Feel free to check the reviews on those before making your decision if you're wary about downloading!
◇ 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ◇
hyv please don't sue me i gain 0 dollars for this and i just wanna simp in peace
