Brimmedhat reader is obviously a threat, practicing forbidden magic and using it to their advantage. They're pretty intimidating when need be and very persuasive, though..when it comes to Qifrey they're literally just a love sick fool. It started off with admiration, watching the white haired witch, his compassion, his grace, and his voice to intently listen in on as if it were music to their ears.
Transformation magic is pretty useful too. Posing as different people, coming into contact pretending to be a merchant selling goods just to have a sliver of Qifrey's attention, a musician who practiced playing instruments prior just for him, or as simple as a brush buddy coincidentally stumbling upon his path. Yes, they're that down bad.
Once they were found in the atelier's kitchen planting down hand written notes when they thought no one was home. It was none other than Qifrey and i imagine the first meeting didn't go down so well.. but later on in the future would it be weirdly common. Ykw..not only is it Qifrey, but Olruggio as well. Big and greedy, 2 bad bitches at the same time idc idc
Summary: It's been weeks since you last saw Qifrey, determined to stay away this time for his sake. It's been agony, but you're managing. Until one night the very man you've been trying to spare appears on the doorstep of your little healing spire deep in the woods he knows you haunt. It's desperation that has him seeking you out, though that cannot be blamed for the way he lingers in the haven of your home once necessity no longer demands it.
Pairing: Qifrey x Brimmed Cap!reader
Word Count: 2.4k~
Content/Warnings: SPOILERS for the last ep of season 1 (feel free to come back after the ep airs on monday!) angst, hurt/(some)comfort, exes, reader has chronic pain.
A/N: hey loves heres part 2 as promised! ive really enjoyed writing brimmed cap reader trust ill be doing more both with Q and other WHA characters <333 {you can find Part 1 here!}
The muted grays of dusk have claimed the forest by the time you’ve reached the abandoned healing spire you call home, arms weighed down by your bundles of herbs. The trek back from the depths of the woods hadn’t been far, but the journey was made tiring by the constant sense that something was hovering just out of sight in the trees.
You could have sworn you’d caught the slightest glimpse of a black ribbon, the glint of golden spectacles in the dying light.
You must really be beginning to lose your grip on reality. In the handful of weeks since you’d last seen him, your mind had stayed fixated on Qifrey. The pained look on his face after the two of you kissed had seared itself into your memory. You saw him, scowling and tear-streaked, in every gloomy corner of the spire and every foggy shadow of the forest.
Staying away from him felt like withdrawal; longing gnawing at the base of your skull. But you had managed to fend off the urge to seek him out. There was a precious truth in your mind that kept your resolve solid. It wouldn’t be fair to him. And so, time crept forward, towing you along despite the way your heart ached with the growing distance.
But tonight there is work to be done, a blessing to someone so apt to wallow in their own misery. You tug off your heavy cloak once you’ve entered your little gothic home and make your way into the workshop to begin stringing up the herbs to dry.
Your hands are stiff and slow with the twine, sore from a day of yanking stubborn plants from the earth. You don’t make it very far into your collection before you need to stop; fishing in your bag for your palm quire. You’ll just take a moment to warm your hands to soothe their aching. You flip through the pages until you find the spell; dip your pen into the ink and make to close the ring, only to flinch your pen straight through the spells center when you hear someone pounding on the door of the spire.
“Who the hell would be wandering this deep into the woods this late?” You grumble bitterly as you crumple the ruined spell in your palm. You only pull the door open an inch or two before you realize who it is standing at the threshold of your home. He’s halted, arm still lifted to knock again, pointed cap sat crookedly atop his silver mop of hair.
“Qifrey?” The relief in your voice is humiliating. You’re not sure if this is real, or if you’ve finally utterly lost your mind.
“Mind if I come in?”
There’s a weariness in his voice that makes it impossible to turn him away, to do what you know is healthiest for you both and tell him to leave. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you pull open the door and watch him step cautiously across the threshold into your home.
“What are you…” The question fades midway through as you watch him shed his cap and cloak and make his way into your dining room. By the time you’ve shaken the fog from your brain and followed him, he’s seated at your table; slumped over the oak surface with his head in his hands and his glasses discarded.
“I didn’t know who else to come to.”
You sit across from him cautiously, as if he’s a fawn you might scare off if you make too much noise.
“What’s going on?” There’s a tension in his limbs that makes you hesitant to ask, it’s clearly desperation that’s brought him to you.
He heaves a defeated sigh, and then the explanation comes tumbling from his lips. When he finishes, you’re left dizzied by the story and immediately overwhelmed with the task he’s requested of you.
“So this boy, Euini, was forcibly given a forbidden transformation seal tattoo by a brimmed cap wielding an empty cloak as a body.” You scrub at your tired eyes as you recount the key points. “The girls managed to retrieve from said brimmed cap an amulet etched with a counter-spell, but you want me to try and find a more permanent solution for the boy.” A recreation of the seal, meticulously redrawn in what could only be Alaira’s hand, sits on the table between you.
Qifrey looks more forlorn with every word you utter. Now that you really take him in, it’s clear he didn’t escape this nightmare unscathed either. Each time he shifts, you see the ghost of a wince flicker across his features.
“I didn’t know who else to ask, Alaira is with him in hiding. I couldn’t bring myself to condemn him to lose his memories at the hands of the Knights Moralis.”
Of course. What other option did he have than to further break the pact in trying to save this child? Perhaps it was this one small mercy you could give him, to dirty your own hands in forbidden magic to save him some semblance of morality.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Relief floods Qifrey’s face, brief and unguarded. “I’ll need to reverse this counter-spell to try and determine what can be done to permanently disable the original spell. I’m guessing neither you nor Alaira was able to get a good look at the casting seal?” Qifrey shakes his head, and a weary sigh knocks loose from your chest. The night was going to be long.
──────•✦•──────
By the time you look up from your work, the windows of the spire are dark with the inky black of night. Qifrey’s face, absent of its usual hostility in sleep, is rested on his crossed arms across from you. It’s selfish to have chosen not to send him home to his atelier when you began working. It wasn’t as if you had no way to contact him with updates on the seal; you’d have no trouble finding him wherever he wandered to. But he had been quick to fall asleep as you worked, and it felt almost crueler to wake him just to shove him out of your home.
Feeling the delicate muscles of your hand begin to seize with the stress of your harsh grip on the pen, you decide you need caffeine to keep you running through the night and stand as quietly as you can to depart for the kitchen. You’re barely done brewing the water for coffee when you hear Qifrey wake, his drowsy grumbling reaching you in the next room.
“Do you want any coffee before you begin the trek back to the atelier?” A gentle push towards his departure disguised as courtesy.
“No, I’m alright. Thank you darling.”
The pet name feels like a relic dug out from beneath the years of scorn and distance, the sound of it causing your stomach to turn. Neither of you acknowledge his slipup, but you know from the weight of the silence that it wounded Qifrey just as deeply to have momentarily unearthed the affection he used to have for you. You finish pouring your cup of coffee, stirring in cream and sugar and trying not to succumb to the hollow feeling slowly expanding in your stomach.
“Why did you tell me?”
Qifrey is picking anxiously at his fingers as he stands in your little kitchen, staring so intently at you as you freeze with the mug of coffee you had been sipping from raised halfway to your lips. You hadn’t even heard him approach, his footfalls silent as a ghost.
“Why did I tell you?” You know what he’s asking, but the question still rattles around in your head without real meaning. How could you have lied? The silence is deafening, but you can’t form a response worth dislodging your heart from your throat to speak.
“You could have kept it from me; stayed in the atelier and kept our life together intact.”
“You know I couldn’t.” His blue eye is an ocean of anger and hurt, trained so intensely on your face that you’re afraid you might be drowning in it. “You know it would have been too dangerous for me to stay there and practice forbidden magic in the same space as your apprentices.”
“You would never have caused them any harm, that much I know about you.”
He’s so close to understanding that it briefly kindles that now familiar anger only Qifrey could evoke from you.
“Of course I wouldn’t have harmed those girls!” Your voice shakes violently, the breath of it disturbing the steam rising gently from your cup. “How do you not grasp that it is for that exact reason I couldn’t continue to play house with you, Qifrey? That even if I would never cause them harm, there are witches in the Brimmed Caps who would delight in my connection to you; to Coco.”
He’s scowling again, that mirage of his painfully sour expression that had haunted you these past weeks made flesh in your dimly lit kitchen.
“Did you not want to stay? Was lying to me really so unbearable that you had to flee and hide yourself in the woods?”
Your fury is dying fast, smothered by exhaustion, and you cannot continue to fight like this anymore. The time away from him, though agonizing, had made clear that these circular conversations solved nothing. It wouldn’t be until the world was entirely reshaped, good or bad, that the two of you could reconcile your differences.
“I just couldn’t lie to you Qifrey. I have no explanation for it aside from this; I loved you far too much to shackle you to a façade. I had to leave you.”
For a moment there’s silence, broken only by the occasional faint sound of the tree branches swaying outside.
“Well, I suppose I wish you loved me less.”
It’s a whisper, choked by tears you’re trying not to watch fall, but it rings like the gunshot in your ears. There’s not a single word in any of the world's languages that can properly describe the pain that settles itself deep into your chest. In a lifetime of pain, nothing comes close to the searing anguish that seizes your heart.
“That’s… surprisingly selfish of you Qifrey.”
“I know.” He laughs, a bitter rueful sound that shouldn’t ever leave such beautiful lips.
There’s another stretch of silence as you swallow the rest of your coffee and set the cup in the water basin to be cleaned after Qifrey leaves. He’s still watching you, leaning against the frame of the door, looking unhappy but slightly less angry than he usually is in your presence. When you make to leave past him, he catches your arm in his hand, his grip gentle but firm. His gaze is cast downward when you try to make eye contact with him, his cheeks tinted pink with shame.
“Please don’t make me leave.” The words are barely audible, laced with a desperation that makes your heart ache. “Let me be selfish just for tonight.”
The tension hanging between you is unbearable. It feels as if Qifrey’s palm on your bare arm is searing his handprint into you. You should say no. You should tell him this will only make you both feel worse; he knows that better than you. You should pry your arm from his grip and wish him farewell so you can drown this longing in a bottle of Silvernectar wine.
“Alright.”
The word is barely past your lips as Qifrey pulls you flush against him, burying his face into your neck and wrapping his arms around you. He’s clinging to you like a child clings to a beloved stuffed animal, breath ragged with emotion he can’t verbalize as he presses a soft kiss against your collarbone. You manage to shake the shock that paralyzes you there in his arms, threading your fingers up into his silver hair and scratching softly at his scalp. A hum vibrates through him at the feeling and he presses impossibly closer. You just stay like that for a while, pressed together in the doorway.
Eventually you pull yourself away from him to clean the solitary mug in the basin, though your personal space remains non-existent as Qifrey follows and wraps his arms around your waist from behind. When you’ve finished, you turn in his grasp and pull him to you. The kiss is softer than your last all those weeks ago in the rain, though there’s still the ghost of that intensity and desperation. Each time you break for air the return is increasingly desperate, as if too long apart would leave room for reality to douse the spark of connection between you.
That’s the entirety of your night; feverish kisses that grow sloppier as you drink your way through the bottle of Silvernectar together, the constant feeling of Qifrey’s hands tugging you closer as if trying to fuse himself to you. There’re moments tinged with sadness, shared tears that mix with the wine flavored kisses, but the night ends with Qifrey beneath your layers of blankets in the drafty healing spire. He tucks you soundly into the curve of his body the way he had every night in the atelier, presses kisses to your bare shoulders. And as the sound of the tree branches swaying outside and his breath in your ear lulls you into sleep, Qifrey’s voice drifts through the ambience one final time, the venomous tone you had long since accepted as permanent replaced with a fondness that you had thought was long dead.
“I love you.”
When the sound of birdsong lifts you from sleep late the next morning, the space beside you in bed is empty. Qifrey had disappeared sometime in the dawn, like one of your ghosts, with the only evidence he had ever been in your home the half-finished deconstructed spell on your dining table and the two wine glasses in the wash basin, waiting to be rinsed.
It would be easy to drown in the sorrow that fills you at his absence. To let the mourning of the brief tenderness you’d had consume the day. Instead, despite your heavy heart and wicked hangover, you sit back at the table and take up your pen. Like always, work was a reprieve for someone so apt to wallow in their own misery; and Qifrey had left you quite the task to complete.
ꫂ᭪݁ the moment qifrey's feelings for you solidified .ᐟ
content ahead contains ; oblivious fem!reader, qifrey as an unofficial girl dad and yearner of the century, briefest mentions of olruggio and alaira.
it was a humid summer evening, and the valley's rolling hills were bathed in the soft, golden glow of the setting sun as it slowly dipped beneath the horizon. crickets buzzed amongst themselves somewhere in the far distant shrubbery, just beyond the opened windows of the atelier.
the cozy kitchen was just as bright, with three girls huddled around the table, ink wands clutched in their delicate, stained fingers. corked vials of ink and sheets of paper, many with half-drawn spell circles, covered most of the wooden surface, showing what they'd been up to.
you rarely had extra time to leave the great hall since you spent most of your days hunched over stacks of old spell books, nose deep in the pages of parchment. deciphering the ancient scrawl of spells in an attempt to modernize them was never an easy task, but the job was nonetheless enjoyable.
the only downside? your view was mostly stone walls and wobbly shelves. so, you started writing letters via bird of light beacons to stay in touch with your companions—one of which was qifrey.
word traveled quickly in the community that an outsider discovered the secret of their magic. in all honesty, you weren't surprised in the slightest that qifrey had taken on the young girl as an apprentice, according to reading his latest correspondence. he always had a peculiar way in attracting waywards.
within that aforementioned correspondence, he'd gushed at how well the young girls were fairing. tetia with a smile that could rival even the brightest of stars, richeh's unshakable individualism. he'd expressed his initial surprise at how well agott was adjusting to coco now training alongside them.
(olruggio and alaira were secretly betting at how long it would take the arklaum daughter, but that was neither here nor there.)
as you perused the remainder of his extensive writings, you were quite surprised to discover the request at the conclusion of the page. qifrey expressed a desire for your presence, hoping you might impart some of your knowledge and experience to the four young ladies, thereby expanding their perspectives of the magical world.
this must have been a jest of some sort. the reason why qifrey sought your assistance, despite your perception that your colleagues' talents surpassed your own, remained unclear. as did the motive behind his gifts that frequented your desk.
indulging him is how you found yourself here—thoroughly looking over coco's attempt to draw a sigil meant for her own sylph shoes and attempt to keep up with tetia's never-ending chit chat.
"your lines need some work in regards to the curves surrounding the centered 's'," you softly inform coco, pointing to them with a finger.
"got it," coco mumbled. she quickly tossed the paper she was holding and jumped up from her seat, rushing out of the kitchen towards her study, probably to grab more supplies since she was almost out. "i'll be right back!"
seeing her curious and willing to learn from her mistakes instead of being bummed out made you smile. that, in your opinion, was the real magic—enthusiasm.
tetia giggled and leaned back in her chair, which was next to yours, as she twirled one of her pink pigtails on top of her head. "you are such a good teacher, miss! it is no wonder master talks so highly of you."
richeh, with a mouth full of sweets she had acquired in kalhn, nods. "his cheeks flush feverishly while doing so", she says. "even if he believes no one is observing," she quietly adds, dabbing away a smudge of chocolate from the corner of her mouth with a cloth.
you immediately feel a sense of confusion. could a witch have used forbidden magic on you and qifrey, causing him to feel unwell each time he spoke your name? has a curse been placed upon your name?
there was no opportunity to contemplate such a possibility, as coco re-entered the kitchen with an armful of documents, accompanied by an elated qifrey and a deadpan agott.
"my sincerest apologies for my delayed arrival, ladies," qifrey stated. he gently rested a hand upon agott's head and offered a soft smile. "my lesson with agott extended longer than anticipated, but i believe neither of us found that to be an issue, did we?"
you suppressed your amusement as an expression of irritation appeared on the arklaum girl's face. she gently removed qifrey's hand and cleared her throat, attempting to feign neutrality.
"education is a valuable tool," agott reasoned, approaching the table to take a seat. "it would be foolish of me to depart from an insightful conversation."
the three other young apprentices were overcome with laughter, their joyful sounds echoing through the air and proving to be quite contagious. you relished in the blissful atmosphere.
a minute or two after their boisterousness subsided, you kindly assisted tetia in clearing the table, returning it to a pristine state once more, before placing small stacks of fresh paper in front of each girl. "let us practice sigils that are slightly more complex, shall we?"
leaning against the surface of a nearby counter, qifrey couldn't help but silently marvel at the scene before him. he watched you carefully, tilting his head just a fraction as you carefully began demonstrating how to draw a rather complicated spell.
he always tended to fixate upon these smaller details about you, for how could he not? from the way a piece of your hair fell in front of your eyes as you leaned over to inspect richeh's work, to the way you tapped your foot against the kitchen's covble floor. everything about you captured his attention.
but what really made his heart thump wildly that evening within the confines of his chest, beneath the cloak draping his shoulders, was seeing how you interacted with his apprentices.
your voice, a soft murmur, praised coco's precise lines, and you offered gentle criticism regarding richeh's incomplete circle—a sound he would endeavor to hear daily from that point forward.
you always wrote how you'd never take on any of your own, explicitly stating how your area of expertise would never offer much for their impressionable minds, or how your patience level was quite temperamental most days.
but oh, how strongly he disagreed with that sentiment right in this very moment. you charmed him furiously, and tormented him in detail.
at last, you feel eyes on you, so you look up from your paper and see qifrey's assessing gaze. a look of surprise dawn's across his face—he hadn’t anticipated being caught. you raise a curious brow and inquire, "is there ink on my face?"
qirey blinks, scared he misheard you for a second. but when he saw how serious you were, he couldn't help but let out a soft sigh. "not at all," he responds, waving your question off. "i'm merely observing. please, do carry on."
you casually dismiss the matter and continue with your impromptu instruction, once again unaware of his persistent observation.
the day your naivete finally waned would, in qifrey's humble opinion, be one of a great reckoning, for if you were to ever look at him in such a manner, he was sure he'd never recover.
↪a/n : this was meant to be much shorter, but i got carried away hehe! thank you angels so very much for 405 followers. your support means the absolute world to me. i hope you enjoyed! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝
small a/n: happy birthday to me! here's a small gift from me :) im 25 today!!
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You sat at the table, quietly eating breakfast while Coco excitedly talked about something she'd learned moments ago. Tetia was laughing about Coco's excitement. Agott was pretending not to listen while secretly listening to every word. Richeh sipped her tea with a small smile.
That tiny ache in your chest only grew stronger. You lowered your gaze to your bowl.
Today was your birthday.
At least, you thought it was.
You hadn't really celebrated it in years. As a child, birthdays had come and gone like any other day. Sometimes your parents forgot entirely. Sometimes they remembered and offered a distracted "happy birthday" before returning to work.
Eventually you stopped caring. Or at least you convinced yourself you did. Birthdays were for people who mattered. Not for you.
You pushed the thought away and continued eating. Across the table, Qifrey watched you.
His visible eye lingered on your face for only a moment.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
The day passed normally. You helped clean the atelier and ran errands into town. Everything was perfectly ordinary. You found yourself glancing at the clock more than once. Then scolding yourself for it.
What exactly were you expecting?
No one knew it was your birthday. You hadn't told anyone. Why would you?
As the sun began to set, the apprentices disappeared somewhere after dinner. Qifrey had vanished as well.
You assumed everyone was busy, so you climbed the stairs toward your room. Halfway down the hallway, a familiar voice called out.
"My, my."
You turned.
Qifrey stood at the end of the corridor. His white hair caught the warm evening light spilling through the windows. His pointed hat sat crooked atop his head, and his usual smile curved softly across his face.
"There you are."
You blinked. "Were you looking for me?"
"Perhaps." He offered his hand. "Would you come with me?"
You frowned. "...Why?"
His smile widened. "It's a surprise."
"That makes me trust you less."
Qifrey laughed. The sound echoed warmly through the hallway. "Fair enough."
Still, you took his hand. His fingers closed gently around yours. He led you downstairs. The moment you stepped outside, you froze.
Dozens of tiny magical lights floated among the flowers like stars or fireflies... or both.
Translucent ribbons hung from tree branches, one of Richeh's spells. A table had been set beneath the largest tree. There was food, drinks, and a cake.
Your breath caught. Everyone jumped out at once.
"Happy birthday!"
You nearly fell backwards from just being in shock and of course it scared you, all the yelling. Tetia laughed so hard she doubled over. Coco was grinning from ear to ear. Richeh waved enthusiastically. Even Agott looked pleased with herself.
Your mind completely stopped working. "W-What?"
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Coco giggled.
"What..." You stared. "What is all this?"
"It's your birthday," Tetia said.
"As if we'd ignore that!"
Your throat tightened. "But I never told anyone."
At that, everyone looked toward Qifrey. The witch simply smiled. He'd figured it out somehow.
You looked back at him. "When?"
"Several weeks ago." The man had apparently discovered your birthday and secretly planned this entire thing.
You stared at him. He smiled innocently. You narrowed your eyes. He smiled wider.
Suddenly, your vision was becoming blurry. You swallowed hard. "It's just a birthday." The words slipped out automatically. The same words you'd told yourself for years.
You regretted saying it immediately when there was silence. The girls all looked at each other worriedly. They were scared they did something, said something, to upset you,
Then, Qifrey stepped closer. His expression softened. "Perhaps." His hand rested lightly atop your head. "But I think the day you were born is worth celebrating."
The lump in your throat became painful. You looked away. "It isn't that important."
"It is to us."
Your eyes widened. The apprentices nodded. Especially Agott. Though she'd never admit it.
"You live here," Coco said.
"You're family."
Family.
Nobody had ever used it for you before. Your vision blurred completely.
And before you could stop it a tear slipped down your cheek. Everyone immediately pretended not to notice. His thumb brushed beneath your eye, wiping away the tear before it could fall.
"Ah." His voice was impossibly gentle.
You laughed shakily.
"I hate you."
"No you don't."
"...No, I don't." You really didn't.
Qifrey smiled. "Come now." He gestured dramatically toward the cake.
"We worked very hard on this."
"I mostly worked hard on this," Agott corrected.
"True."
"I decorated!" Tetia protested.
You found yourself laughing. The sound surprised even you. Qifrey sat beside you beneath the glowing lights. The celebration continued around you.
At one point the apprentices gave you handmade gifts, each crafted with obvious care and affection. Somehow, they felt more valuable than anything you'd ever owned.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Hours later, as the celebration slowly wound down, you found yourself sitting beside Qifrey beneath the stars. The others had gone inside. You looked up at the sky.
Then at him. "Thank you."
His visible eye shifted toward you. "For what?"
"You know what."
A smile touched his lips. "You're welcome."
You hesitated. "I never celebrated before."
Qifrey's expression softened. "I know." His hand found yours. "You deserved to."
You squeezed his hand. Your birthday didn't feel like an ordinary day. It felt important. Because someone had cared. Qifrey looked up at the stars. Then smiled at you.
Hiya! I loveeeeee your blog and your fanfics! ( ^ω^ )
May I request a olruggio (and/or qifrey) x apprentice reader ff where they get overwhelmed or overstimulated while they’re out and olruggio comforts them? Maybe while they’re visiting kalhn or during a festival? Do whatever your scared hands guide and wills you to write dear author!
THANK YOU SO MUCH MAWH REMEMBER TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
platonic!qifrey ﹠ platonic!olruggio x apprentice!reader: when you get overwhelmed ﾉ overestimulated ꒰ sfw. gn!reader. child ﾉ minor!reader. ꒱
Here you are, anonie! If there's anything you didn't like, you can tell me, this way I can try to fix it 🤍 tell me if i comitted any mistake regarding the reader's pronouns
Voluptuousness of guitars, veiled voices, inebriating vociferations, and overlapping aromas in a fervent perfume.
The discomfort is manifold and spreads across the land in a plethora of forms, sprawling across the horizon like a saturated rainbow, disastrously arranged in colorful disorder.
How to extract beauty from such disenchantment?
How to hum when there is a plurality of voices echoing through the space, making the discernment of a single song impossible?
Yet, indeed, for some, jubilee is born through this oscillating and shapeless arrangement. But to you, it is nothing more than a work of forbidden magic, metamorphosed into a festival of acclaimed magnitude.
The weight of the fabric of your uniform against your body, the brushing of strangers' shoulders against yours, the shifting illumination depending on the area you inhabited—everything conspired to create a bitterly lived nightmare.
"Master Qif..." you tried to assert yourself, but he was merely talking to other witches, discussing contraptions and unable to hear your timid tone amidst that uproar.
"Master..." you repeated… and repeated and repeated, until you tugged at your teacher's uniform, who, in turn, turned to look at your countenance.
"Dear, what is it…?" he knelt down.
However, your eyes didn’t focus on his worried face, but instead you looked at the girls, who were joyfully experiencing the local festival with candied fruits and youthful happiness.
You didn't want to ruin everything.
"Sorry, it's nothing…"
Qifrey raised an eyebrow, noticing the rigidity with which you crumpled the edge of your uniform, your fingers sweaty from repeating such a habit.
He held your palms, massaging them.
"Oh my, that might hurt your hands if done so frequently. Tell me, dear, what is it? You can tell me, always. I promise to keep it a secret if you want…"
Sweat rolled down your forehead, and then…
"I want to go home…"
Qifrey cocked his head.
"What happened? You wanted to come to the festival so much."
"I know, but… I'm sorry, I…"
"Shh, it's alright. There's no need to apologize, much less any reason to blame yourself." He stood up, pressing your face against his chest in a light hug.
That visual curse ceased, even though the noises still collided. You squeezed your eyelids shut, clinging to the silky comfort of your master's uniform.
"Right, right… come here…" Qifrey guided you by the shoulders while you kept your eyes half-closed—but the lack of visual stimuli seemed only to sharpen your other senses. You kept waking, trusting wherever Qifrey was taking you and allowing yourself to, at least, be spared of that visual messiness.
Soon enough, not even the sharp buzzing echoes of the fair were noticable…
"Open your eyes…!"
Your vision was graced by the image of Qifrey, smiling in a much milder environment. Looking into the background, there was the festival; now the sounds were distant and imperceptible.
"Easy, right? You just needed to tell Master Qifrey and now we are in a much better place!”
A few light pats were given on your back, so you softened your grip, sniffing.
"I'm sorry, it must have been quite exhausting, wasn't it? I didn't imagine everything would be so… stressful this year… I'm so sorry, sweetie…" He stood up, removing your hat to caress your head.
Part of your uniform lay beside you, arranged on the bench. Wearing only the white undergarment already helped a bit, especially with the arm buttons undone.
"Here, you should breathe slowly…" Surprisingly, Qifrey didn't caress you; he only assisted in regulating your oxygen intake, avoiding any touch as much as possible unless you initiated it.
Soon he sat down beside you, though he maintained his distance and ceased uttering a single word.
The chirping of birds filled the subsequent silence shared between apprentice and master. You leaned back against the seat, sighing.
"Master Qif…?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Can we go home now…?"
"On foot? Or flying?"
You pondered; flying brought too many stimuli—the rustling of your clothes, the wind that sometimes varied in temperature uninterruptedly.
"On foot is fine…"
"Do you want to go holding hands…?"
"Is it alright if we do?"
"Oh, dear me. You're the boss here."
"And the girls…?"
"Olruggio is with them, honey. Don't worry…"
You nodded, moving closer to Qifrey and placing your hand atop his.
"Come along, I know a very quiet path, you'll like it. You don't need to study today, just worry about resting, alright?"
"Alright, Master Qifrey… and what about the next festivals…? I think the others will like to go…"
"Hmm… how about the two of us staying at the Atelier? Just us alone. I promise to make your favorite food, it would be like a personal festival! It'll be much quieter, I'm sure…”
In an unhealthy rejoicing, the crowd chose to vociferate unnecessarily loud compliments, as if each figure were trying to make their own voice stand out.
The lanterns reddened the glow—which turned slightly bluish when the lights flickered.
Could this be the desecration of the Silver Eve? Perhaps your first experience was just unlucky. Or had it always been this way (and will always be)?
It could be that no one, except for you, imagined the event as a Dantesque dream.
The crowd bustled, some brushing their shoulders against yours; the heat brought by the spells was momentary, replaced by the night mist in an incessant thermal back-and-forth.
You simply withdrew to the most unnoticeable corner. Pressing your palms against your ears, closing your eyes tightly, and imagining how much you missed Olruggio at that moment.
Calling out for him didn't feel right.
Everyone was loving the contraption he was showcasing.
If you screamed, or tried to fly to your master's position, he would hardly reprimand you, understanding immediately that something was wrong.
But there was no way.
You didn't have the courage to interrupt him.
You simply withdrew.
And waited.
You weren't even where he had told you to stay.
The shouting fluctuated a bit, even quieted down—though it never abandoned that atrocious volume.
Perhaps Olruggio's presentation was over?
"Don't you ever do that again!" Olly snapped, holding you by the shoulder and bringing you to your feet. "You can't just go vanishing like that! What if someone kidnaps you? Or if you get lost, I—"
Realizing that the expression you wore during reprimands was not on your countenance, the witch was quick to correct his own tone, coughing before adopting a calmer posture.
"Hey, what's wrong? You can tell me, muffin…" Olruggio knelt down, holding your hands and massaging your knuckles with his thumb.
"I want to go home…"
Perhaps another master would blame it on the shifting moods seen in children. But Olruggio didn't imagine you as such a simple being, nor did he believe in such archaic methods of education.
"Hmmm… what happened? You wanted to come and watch the presentation so much."
Yes, you had basically begged. That made your shoulders feel heavier.
"Sorry, Master Olly… you said I shouldn't come…"
He gasped before standing up.
"Quiet. You know I'm a bit… grumpy. I don't really mind bringing you with me to festivals."
"But if I had done what you said…"
"Whatever! Whatever! Look, you look stressed, we better do what you said and go home. I'm already getting a headache here anyway! It's an infernal noise."
Olruggio was about to lift you up, but that indicated he would fly back with you, and that was not desired.
Perhaps it would be less stimulating than the festival, but it would still have its share of stress.
Was it too spoiled of you to complain so much? Well, certainly not to Olruggio.
This time, you didn't hold back.
"No, I don't want to fly! I don't want to!" you said, quickly dropping to the ground. "Let's walk!"
Your master lowered his head, gently holding your face.
"Hey, what's wrong? It'll be faster this way…"
"But it's stressful!"
He nodded.
"Do you want me to carry you, dear?"
You looked around; everything was loud, unbearable. You just wanted to close your eyes and cover your ears in search of ephemeral relief. But walking with your eyes closed would be problematic. So, you agreed.
Olruggio held your shoulders without any rigidity, then slid his hands down until they found a spot where he could lift you properly.
Olruggio took steady steps, trying to leave the fair as quickly as possible, yet without shaking you.
"Master Olly…?"
"Yes, dear?"
"I didn't like the Silver Eve…"
"Ah, it's alright… there's no problem at all."
"But what about the next times…? You'll have to come, right? And Qifrey too… but I want to stay at the Atelier…"
"You don't need to come. I'll explain to Qifrey that I have to take care of you. But hey, that will only happen a long time from now. Let's focus on the now, alright…?"
You removed your face from Olly's neck now that the fair was distant and its noises indiscernible.
Olly unbuttoned the sleeves of your uniform, in addition to removing the upper and unnecessary layers for the moment. Your hat was also set aside. Now everything felt much lighter.
You didn't want to answer questions; Olly didn't ask anything.
You didn't want to move, so both of you stayed steady for as long as necessary.
"I want to go home now…"
"Do you want to hold hands? It's getting a bit dark."
You agreed, holding Olly's fingers. This time, he didn't envelope your hand inside his, leaving yours completely free to let go whenever needed.
"Master Olly…?"
"Hmmm?"
"Well… can I have seconds on dessert today?"
Your master sighed, though letting a quick laugh escape.
Notes: just two little hcs or drabbles or wtv that i sent in the dms. this is one of my fave tropes. i might write more. or even different vers for these two. i can never get enough
Wanderer goes cold and rigid, no matter what he's doing. It doesn't matter if you're in the middle of a battle or simply fainting in the middle of the day. He's always watching you, whether you realize or not; in a way, he orbits you, and any disturbance you feel can throw him entirely off course. It's no surprise when his gaze turns panicked for a second before he schools his emotions back into place with practiced ease. He rushes to you, catches you as you fall, and immediately presses his fingers to your pulse. It's strong. Your heart is beating. That, at least, is a relief. He can fight off the void that threatens his implosion for now, but he knows it's already began his destruction, tearing him apart particle by particle. Now, though, he simply sweeps you away and flies to the nearest medic. Wanderer doesn't say much, but the grim expression on his face lets everybody know how serious he is. How serious this is. He might leave your side or stand in the next room, if the doctor insists. But he's waiting. Waiting. Listening for your breath to change. Waiting.
Lohen will only ever find out after the fact. If you're fighting with him, you won't even get a scratch. Nobody on his team will. But when he returns to camp, only to find your company beaten and bruised and the entire expedition force in disarray, it's like a hole opens up in the ground beneath him and nearly swallows him whole. There's a frigid kind of panic that shoots down his entire body from his brain to his fingers and toes that he is all too familiar with. If he hadn't purposely spent so much time conquering his own weaknesses, he's sure ice shards would have shot out of his hands and plunged deep into the dirt as if it was his own heart. He's on an entirely different warpath now, trying to find you. He doesn't need to stop anybody and ask desperately through clenched teeth. Everybody already makes a path for him to march through, leading him straight to the medical tent. He's surprised to see even a few Lightkeepers receiving treatment as his eyes scan every cot. It is both a blessing and a curse to him that no nurses are near you. He can be alone with his thoughts, at least, and maybe that means you're stable - but there's also no one around to tell him exactly what happened to you, what is happening to you, and maybe the medics are spread so thin that nobody can give you the attention you need. His legs give out once hes beside the bed. Falling to his knees, he rests his forehead against the side of the mattress. You're breathing, but it's too quiet. You're too still. He doesn't even want to kill anything right now. Once again, fear has sapped him of the ability to act. Lohen sits there, emptier than he's felt in a long time. He just needs to hear your voice. Please.
in which, lohen has a hard time accepting your departure.
contents. lohen x gn!reader, angst, childhood friends, spoilers for lohen's aq (reader has same backstory), lohen doesn't understand trauma very well, one (kinda gorey) kms joke, does not follow the canon storyline of genshin, no beta lol
Tonight was your last night in Mondstadt.
The moon would eventually bid the world farewell, you'd be doing your final checks before embarking on the journey to Inazuma—this time a permanent destination rather than a holiday.
By the flower fields of Dornman Port you sat, comforted by the meek waves of the shore and the lighthouse watching over you. Maybe it was how abnormally bright it was for the evening, or perhaps the occasional passerbys, but for once, you appeared comfortable, being alone so late.
Etherwing moths danced in the air around you, a soft glow that illuminated your back, a sight Lohen needed to seer into your memories—for tonight was going to be your last night in Mondstadt, and one of the last few moments Lohen wasn't alone.
You broke the news to him on a random Tuesday, quietly announcing your departure. Your gaze refused to meet his, and his couldn't pull away from you.
You already know my family's from there. They want to support me and my parents. And they know a renowned clinical psychologist there that's willing to help me.
Lohen had gritted his teeth.
Why are you looking at me like that...? I can finally get better now. I won't have to be a burden anymore.
He couldn't stand it when you described yourself as a burden.
At the tender age of ten, Lohen was kidnapped—you were one of the children in his cell, alongside Theodore.
It changed both of you for the better, everyone, really. Even someone as logical and calculating as Lohen couldn't help but sometimes wonder, how different would the trajectory of his life be, if his father hadn't let their carriage get held up by those treasure hoaders?
Lohen spat venom that day, snapping about how ridiculous it was to think of yourself as something to be fixed. He knows you best and knew you were far more capable than you described yourself, there was no need to run away to Inazuma. He went through the same thing and turned out fine—he believes you did too.
Since then, you hadn't spoken to each other. Not even glance at one another in the rare moments you passed each other.
Now, he watched you sit, staring towards the ocean while hardly moving. Adorno had lectured him, and for once he listened, urging him to say goodbye. Even if he didn't muster the courage to do so, he could at least stand guard for you—to make sure you'd return unscathed tonight.
"I know you're there, Lohen."
He haphazardly stuffed the letter into his pocket and grunted, before settling in the grass. He didn't say anything, there's was so much on his mind that he couldn't even start.
"I'm sorry."
Lohen scoffed. "You didn't even do anything wrong, You need to get rid of that habit." He wonders and worries, if it'd make you an easy target when you're gone.
You chuckled, a soft, tired noise. "Probably, yeah. But you seemed so upset the other day. I felt bad."
Lohen, you need to stop being so immature. Adorno had chastised him, after he heard about your argument. You can swallow up your pride and apologise, or you can make your final moments together a petty argument that they didn't even deserve.
He sucked in a sharp breath.
"I was in the wrong...I'm sorry for being so...childish."
His heart raced, faster than it ever had in combat. Even the Knights of Favonius entrance exam, he passed with nonchalance. He cleared out monsters with a bloodrushing excitement, but not once did he feel as stressed as he did now.
(Lohen never knew love was this exhilirating. He looked down upon the romances of fiction and the crushes his colleagues would gush about. Now, he felt, and probably looked, even more pathetic than they ever could.)
The waves took their turn to speak, licking up the shore as he stared at a crab to keep himself occupied. Crickets hidden in bushes somewhere sang, and his mouth went dry.
"I missed you." You whispered, and it stung more than any injury he's endured. "I'm glad I got to see you again before I left."
It was callous. Rude, even, but he didn't restrain himself. "Do you really have to go...?"
Trembling yet amused, you sighed. "Yes, I do. I told you, my dad's family's there to help me, and they're friends with—"
"—a renowned psychologist yeah. I was listening." He trailed off, guilty for cutting you off. "But still. Mondstadt's your home."
Where the wind watched over its people. Where dandelions granted dreams and wishes. Where Lohen was.
"I know. That won't change. I wasn't exactly excited to move away, y'know?" You pulled out a blade of grass, picking it into smaller pieces. "But, I don't think moving to Inazuma is a terrible idea. Having a fresh start will be good for me. Like getting away from what happened."
Maybe it was your smile, or how the move was entirely logical, that makes Lohen lose it.
"You don't need a fresh start—"
"I do, Lohen. I know we went through the same thing and all, but it doesn't mean I'm going to be just as successful. I'm nothing like you."
The words tumbled out before he could even filter them, moving faster than his brain ever could. "If I'm so successful why won't you let me protect you—? I can provide everything you need, a—and want. Heck, I could get you a job too—you're smart, and good with books, you like them—I'm sure Lisa would want an assistant or something—"
"That won't fix me. I want to reclaim my life by myself. I want to stop being scared of our past."
He choked on his words, whimpering at how peaceful you looked, even if it meant leaving the nation you lived in all your life.
"...stop saying that. You're not some broken item to put back together..." Lohen's gaze tentatively drifted towards you. You didn't reciprocate, admiring the shore and the moon's blurry reflection.
Reclaim life—Lohen understands the feeling all too well. There was a reason why he trained relentlessly, constantly alert and on guard. He could never enter a room without scanning its entirety for potential dangers, nor could he go without carrying at least two weapons.
"Even so, can't you do it here, in Mondstadt? With me?" He nuzzled his face into your neck, too afraid to meet your gaze. The night air didn't feel so cold against your skin.
It was only thanks to you, that he feels a semblance of stability, and warmth. You were the only one who listened. Even if you enjoyed the predictability of routine, you never forced him to indulge in the same habits as you, something his parents failed to recognise.
Lohen despises routine and mundanity, but with you, it felt more like a break from life than mindnumbing monotony.
You were right, you're nothing like each other, you were gold and he was a lump of coal.
You even managed to interpret his bloodlust positively, always quipping about how Mondstadt was only safe because of Lohen. Lohen thinks that, even if you weren't trapped in that cell with him, you would've still understood his soul perfectly fine.
Lohen doesn't want you to go. He doesn't want to be alone. He wanted you here, in Mondstadt.
He wanted you to feel warmth with him, as much as he basked in yours.
Your cheek rested in his head, the reciprocation widened his eyes and drove his heart wild. "I wish. But it's too late, I'm already leaving tomorrow. I'm not going to change my mind."
This must've been Lohen's own failure. Had he taken your insecurities more seriously, maybe he could've done something. He's garnered a decent amount of experience with the Knights of Favonius and the Adventurer's Guild, he could've taught you to fight—that opens up plenty of opportunities, and you'd feel safer alongside them.
This was simple consequence, he thought. You were leaving because Mondstadt wasn't good enough.
You pulled away, and Lohen's heart sank. He sat up normally, deciding it'd be best to say his final goodbyes soon.
A sniffle interrupted his plans, followed by a choked sob.
You were crying. Furiously so. You turned away, hands rubbing away at your eyes.
"Hey..." A gloved hand reached out to you.
"Fuck—I didn't want to cry again...I don't want to go—"
The sight of you crying tortured him more than any mission could.
Lohen's been witness to your tears on many accounts, but today he was lost for words.
An arm wrapped around you, pulling you in as you wailed.
"I'm gonna miss you." You kept refusing to face him, even as he pulled you closer. Incoherent, you sobbed, hiccuping on your misery.
"I'll miss you too. Everyone will."
It's not "running" away, Lohen. Adorno had reassured him. Not all people heal the same, much like wounds. You have your own idea of healing. They have their own.
He understands that, yet something inside him pleaded to hold onto you forever, and never let you go.
I'll miss that child too. They've treated you well. But it's their turn to find themselves again. There'll be surrounded by love in Inazuma, their parents love them dearly to make that choice. It takes a great amount of courage to take a step that big.
Adorno was right. Leaving was for your sake. You'd be happy in Inazuma, your extended family there loved you dearly, often sending plenty of goods and letters over to you. That psychologist you mentioned would help you understand yourself better, and a change of environment was understandable. Leaving, was ultimately a good decision for you.
Lohen couldn't say the same for himself, but that wasn't important.
Your cries died down, Lohen waited until you were ready to speak, endearingly rubbing your shoulder.
You sighed, wiping your tears one final time. "I'm glad you came here. I was worried our last conversation would be a fight."
Lohen flinched, regret pouncing on him. Quite frankly, if it weren't for Adorno, he'd wallow in disaster and remorse for the rest of time, all because he was immature enough to avoid you after a fight he initiated.
"I'd rather shoot myself in the head then not say goodbye." You chuckled at the graphic joke. "Besides." He shifted, pulling you in so he could face you. Your eyes were traced in red and your nose was dusted pink, but it made no difference for him. "There's no 'last conversation' happening between us. You'll be back to vi—no, I'll travel there to see you when I can. I'm gonna be writing letters to you too, silly."
(Lohen's eyes were burning, but he refused to cry. Not when he regretted not being strong enough to help you. His pride tells him to minimise your guilt, for both of your sakes.)
You stopped making the effort to conceal your face, sniffling. "You're right. I'll be back. I'll bring you back all sorts of candy, okay?"
He smiled, a rare moment of happiness in recent times. "You better."
Your breathing had finally stabilised. "I'll be back." You repeated. "I'll come back as a happier person."
The determination glowing in your eyes comforted Lohen. Before he could speak again, you scurried around, searching the ground.
"Did you lose something?"
You shook your head. "Dandelion—I wanna make a wish."
(Your growth and return was inevitable in Lohen's head. But if a dandelion was what you wanted, then a dandelion was what you'd get.)
Neither of you could find anything nearby, you were about to lose hope, until an idea flickered in his head. Lohen fished out the letter, smoothing it out. You leaned in, curious. "What is that?"
"Stupid report I messed up on." He lied—he would never keep a botched report, nor redo one. 'But it should work equally fine."
'What do you mean?"
He tore it apart before you could see it, into the smallest bits and pieces he could. The fragments of paper pooled in his palms, and he made sure the wind wouldn't interfere with your wish.
Careful, he held his cupped palms to your mouth. "Make a wish."
You blinked, Lohen sighed.
"I know it's not the same, but I'm sure Barbatos will grant your wish either way. He's the god of freedom, it's...the thought that counts. Somethin' like that."
A grin bloomed across your lips. "How did you even manage to think of this?" Your posture straightened and you blew with all your might, before the wind carried the paper away.
Together, you watched the wish dance in the air, before falling into the sea.
Your hands were clasped tight in a prayer, resting against your forehead with your eyes closed.
(Lohen hated religion. He thought of praying as a pointless pass time for those who didn't want to seize control of their own lives. He'd never admit it to anyone, not even you, but in his head, he prayed alongside you—for you to return soon. Yet at the same time, he wanted this ephemeral night to last for eternity.)
He pried the silence away first. He knew if he sat here any longer with you, it'd hurt more when you had to go.
"It's getting late." Lohen declared. "You'll need the rest before the trip. And Varka's gonna scold me about sleep deprivation or whatever.
"Mm. Okay." You stood up, brushing the dirt off your knees, but your gaze was fixated on the ocean, where your 'dandelion' had flown to. "Thank you."
"For?"
"Y'know. Everything. And just then. I feel like you've always helped me."
"I could say the same for you." As he stood, it was beginning to hit him—it wasn't even a full day until you were gone—across the sea, all the way in Inazuma, a lonely archepeligo, further than he had ever been. "Besides, you don't need a wish to make your way back."
His fingers fiddled with an ear, before removing one of his silver and sapphire earrings. He held it out to you. You remained still with shock, as it glistened in pityful moonlight.
"Just take it. You give it back to me once you're back." He huffed, regretting not preparing a goodbye gift. All he knew was violence. "That way, I know you won't forget to return."
(He was familiar with bow crafting of course, but he wanted to give something meaningful, not a talent that he never cared for. He thought the letter would suffice, but that had gone into the wind and sea.)
Despite your teasing, you accepted the earring, carefully pocketing it. 'Are you sure you won't miss it? Now you only have one earring."
Lohen shrugged. "Eh, I'll look good either way. Plus, it'll minimise my chances of someone ripping off my ear in a fight. Do you want the other, as well?" His fingers already reached for the other ear. You declined, clinging onto his wrist.
"No. One is enough. It kind of feels like we're matching now."
The two of you began walking, with the moon peering down on you. You marveled at the occasional cat running past, or the fireflies fluttering around.
"Did you know Morax used mountains as weapons? He used them to seal away gods."
No, Lohen didn't. "The geo archon?"
"Yeah. I bought a new book about Liyue's history."
The topic changed out of nowhere, as you walked through Dornman Port together.
"Interesting. Tell me more."
(That night, Lohen had intentionally walked slower to stretch out your remaining time together. He liked to think that you did as well.)
It's been a year or so. Lohen was not used to your absense, but he has grown accustomed to writing letters instead of running to your doorstep.
Inazuma was treating you well. Pages upon pages replaced your excited ranting, and you pressed the local flowers for him—Lohen decided he'd learn to press cecilias for you when he had the chance to learn. Your letters recounted your adventures, from the new friends you made, to how the psychologist you were seeing turned out to be a 'yumekui baku', a spirit known for eating the bad dreams of humans. Turns out you stopped having nightmares as a whole, and you've learned to manage panic attacks better.
I've been enjoying culinary school so much! Life feels so much better now that I've found something I love. You should let me know what dishes you want me to learn, I'll practice for you.
Lohen always kept a page of your letters with him. It was reaching midnight, and he was dragged to the Tavern with the Varka, simply because it was the end of the week. He smiled to himself, rereading your handwriting as comfort.
Varka took a seat besides him, groaning and immediately asking Diluc for a beer. Lohen refolded the letter again, pocketing it. "You sure you don't need a drink?"
Lohen shook his head. "Tastes rancid. Being drunk isn't worth the taste. Apple cider's better." Before he could ask, Diluc had already began preparing one for him. "Thank you, Master Diluc."
The bartender grunted at the honorific, quietly before getting on with Varka's beer. Diluc of Dawn Winery was always stoic and composed, but today, eyebags were storming and he appeared more irritated than anything. Lohen knows he hates the knights, but he was in a worse mood than usual.
Varka, being the ever-so perceptive Grandmaster, called it out first. "You look tired. What's up?"
Diluc sighed. "Sakoku Decree. Can't import sake for the time being." He rubbed circles on his temple. "The tariffs are abnormally high, too. Can't sell or buy from Inazuma."
The mention of your (now) nation of residence piqued his curiosity. It must've been an commerce related thing.
The Grandmaster shrugged. "Mondstadt's beer always tasted better anyways." He joked, thanking Diluc for his drink. "But I never knew. Any reason why?"
He wiped down the counter. "No. It's indefinite as well."
"Poor Ulrike. Her son's living there, isn't he?"
Lohen's heart sank. "What are you talking about?"
Varka took a massive gulp of beer, wiping his mouth with a bulky forearm. "The shogun of Inazuma cut it off. Completely. No one can enter or leave. And we have no idea when that'll change"
His voice broke. "You're joking, right?"
Diluc scoffed. "I wish he was."
Suddenly, Lohen struggled to breathe, and his apple cider began to taste awful. A gloved hand pushed himself off his seat, and he left a pile of mora for his drink.
"What happened?" Varka tried to reach out, but Lohen dodged. Even Diluc was concerned. "You feeling alright?"
"Air. I just need air. I'll be back."
Before either of them could question him any further, he left.
No one can enter or leave. How were you meant to return or visit, then? Neither could he. And if it's indefinite, then it could be anything—the shogun was an archon, divine beings hardly consider the mortal.
Even outside, Lohen felt like he couldn't breathe. What about the letters you were writing to each other? Would the decree affect that too? Such an oppressive policy couldn't mean anything good either, what if something was happening in Inazuma?
What if something happened to you?
Lohen walked and walked, until he was alone enough to panic.
What about the wish you made? The promise to reunite some day—
Lohen couldn't help but mourn—if only he had found you a real dandelion that day.
I hope you are doing well, staying sane, and remembering to take deep breaths.
Came to say I have been HAUNTED by the thought of Albedo having an apprentice who is getting good at making potions and poisons. So at some point Albedo gives them the task of making a few concoctions Lohen had asked Albedo to make.
Which like, obviously you try your best to make sure they are perfect since you don’t want to give Albedo anymore trouble / extra work.
And when you go to deliver them to Lohen he takes one of the concoctions and tries it for himself. But it turns out you had made a mistake in preparing one of them and so Lohen downs a love potion 😭
Doesn’t help if you are already kinda down bad for him….maybe you two had been flirting a bit back and forth. But now he’s like ALL OVER YOU and you’re just trying to figure out how you messed up the potion and how to make a cure.
GAH I CAN’T GET IT OUT OF MY BRAIN.
OHHHHHHH MY GOODNESS . beloved kat if i was sane at all it has dissolved with this concept.
your mentor albedo, who's quite impressed with how quickly you learn, really; it makes him swell with pride when you master a new recipe, new techniques. what he's not impressed with, however, is how you and the vice captain of the 5th company keep beating around the bush, clearly dodging the little crush he can see you have.
...i have brainworms kat im so sorry... lohen asked albedo for 10 different potions. albedo gives you the correct recipes for 9 of them, and the incorrect recipe for just 1, asking you to tweak it by adding a few petals from a sumeru rose. special order, he says — and you aren't yet familiar with the ingredient, nor do you really want to question your master's judgement, so what can you do?
you go to albedo in a flustered panic a couple days later, saying you must have done something wrong you're so sorry but please mister albedo help, you think you accidentally made a love potion for vice captain lohen.
you swear you can see albedo fighting a little smirk as he says "hm? oh, you're referring to... the one with the sumeru rose petals, yes? not to worry, that wasn't a love potion at all. that was a mere truth serum."
synopsis. it’s been about two years since you married lohen. in that time, he’s been a perfect gentleman — leaving you to ponder if the rumors about his uncouth behavior are true, and if you ever will truly know your husband. all of a sudden, two years of a perfect marriage unravels in a single night, and it all starts with you catching him watching you in your sleep.
— content. arrangedmarriage!au, suggestive, takes place in the context of canon, stalking/stalking encouragement (but its okay cuz its him), like one or two phrases romanticizing murder and cannibalism (but its okay cuz its him) 🌚, jealousy, implies intimacy with reader being lohen's first time, mutual yearn, reader wears a loose tank top to sleep but no pronouns are used
— notes. 3.1k words, oh and he cries a little bit . we on some freak shit 2day. art by @/kanann_x on twt!
You never knew that red eyes could look pink underneath the pale moonlight.
It makes sense, since you and Lohen have never even shared a room (much less a bed) since you got married, and he’s rarely even in the house when the sun sets, so you wouldn’t know what your husband’s eyes look like at night. The last time you saw his face this close up was two years ago, at the altar. His eyes reminded you of cherries, then — ruby red like blood against pale skin, an intense presence that seemed like they could burn you if you got too close.
They’re softer, now. A gentler flush of light swirled in his irises.
Your voice comes out hoarse.
“… What are you doing in my room?”
Lohen has always been beautiful, even from the distance that he’s put you at. He’s beautiful every time his lips brush your knuckles at dinners with powerful families in Mondstadt, still beautiful when he forsakes you by your lonesome for the rest of the night, leaving you to entertain yourself in other ways. He’s beautiful when you’re strolling the gardens, and you catch him sparring against other knights, and he smiles like it’s the happiest he’s ever been.
Hell, he’s beautiful now — his bangs fallen over his forehead, eyes widened in shock, his chest rising mid-inhale. He’s moved your vanity chair to the side of your bed, elbows perched on the stand right above your previously sleeping form. Lohen's lips move in response to your question, but he doesn’t answer.
You have to blink yourself awake, try to force your words to come out less groggy.
“Did I oversleep?”
He actually answers this time, his tone with the veneer of professionalism.
“No.”
“… Is there an emergency, then? Has someone passed?”
“… No.”
Your heart thuds dully in your chest, confusion swirling in your head. You shift, your head lifting up from your pillow just a little, and Lohen scrambles. The chair falls to the floor with a thud in his hurry to leave, his voice uncharacteristically wavering as he fumbles, “Sorry, I really didn’t mean to come in, please have a good night—”
You prop yourself up in a panic, your hand reaches for his just barely enough to grab his wrist, and he freezes. Your mind races because Lohen hasn’t turned around to face you yet, but you grabbed for his wrist in a hurry, and you had no plan of action for this. With all your might, you tug him backwards — he yelps, forearms falling back on your sheets, his back landing on your lap.
“You are not leaving that easily.” You pant out, scowl on your lips, “What the hell, Lohen?”
He doesn’t respond again, breathing heavily, chest rising and falling rapidly, his eyes blown wide. You watch in real time as the heavy flush at his ears spreads to his cheeks, red blossoming all over his face.
… Ah.
This is Lohen’s first time in a bed with you, you realize.
(And suddenly, your face feels warm too. You wonder if he notices.)
Slowly, you shift again — your thighs raise ever so slightly, so his head is brought closer to you, so you can sit a little more upright.
He's beautiful from this angle, too, and it only steels your resolve more. You’ve been denied the excuse to touch your husband for two years; you might as well take advantage of the opportunity while you have it.
Cautiously, your hand creeps towards him. A part of you is worried he’ll lunge — bite at you like a dog, or run away — but he stays frozen in your lap.
Your palm ghosts the cusp of his chin, tilting his jaw to face you. His skin is so much softer than you imagined, warm and getting warmer — he feels human underneath you.
Your hand travels to the side of his jaw, thumb on his cheek, tracing the deeper red on the apples of his cheek.
Lohen flinches, like your attention on him burns.
He should leave. He should lift himself from your lap, excuse himself to sleep in his cold chambers for the rest of the night so he can think about your touch without going rabid. He should cook you your favorite breakfast tomorrow, apologize profusely with a brilliant excuse for what he was doing in your room the night before.
Lohen knows himself enough to know that he should go. You're the one that stepped into the lion's den, though — a mouse keeping such a beast under it's paw is unheard of, so it's only a matter of time before he'll be strong enough to retreat back into the shadows.
So he stays there, drinking in the sight of you above him with half-lidded eyes, gazing at your lips as they move.
“Were you … watching me in my sleep?”
If only you knew.
He exhales. “Yeah.”
Warmth floods your chest, and your lips move before you can even process your next question. “Do you watch me often?”
Lohen feels like he might die, out of the pure ecstasy his heart can’t take being held by you, or the utter embarrassment of being caught.
“Almost every night.” He spits out, “Whenever I get the chance.”
“… Do you watch me when I'm not sleeping?”
Almost every day, whenever he gets the chance.
He's seen you in every state you've been in — it's not difficult to shrink his duties as the Vice Captain, and it's so easy when he already knows your daily schedule.
He used to chalk it up to keeping you safe. As his partner, you'd automatically be put in more danger than you normally would be, so he'd watch to keep an eye out for any attacks. The only attacks that he'd find out, however, were flirts and eyes from other men.
He wouldn't know what the feeling was when it happened — the something ugly that broiled in his chest, made his bloodlust that much more potent. He'd think about ending them all if he could for a moment — carve out their eyes for looking at you, flay their lips so they couldn't speak, butcher their hands for touching you.
But then you'd laugh. You'd wave your hand to show off the ring on your finger, speak of him, your husband, and all those thoughts would disappear. Because you were his, and he was yours.
Lohen would later find out (through rants with Varka of all people) that the fleeting emotion that overtook him was jealousy, and the emotion he felt towards you was love.
Something sick, tainted and unsure — but love nonetheless.
Lohen feels a rare bout of disgust towards himself. The bear trap he's placed himself in has finally clamped down on his crus, and like any wounded animal, he scrambles for absolution.
A gasp escapes your lips as his head rams into the fat of your stomach, his nose buried into your thigh, arms awkwardly wrapped around your waist. This is certainly the closest he's been to you — he can smell your bodywash through your silk top, just enough to send his panicking mind into overdrive.
“Please don't—” He chokes out, “Please don't leave me — I can be better, I can change, so please don't—”
You can only watch in shock as Lohen babbles on, manic pleas flying from his lips faster than you can process them. His arms squeeze around you, twisting the fabric bunched at your skin, pressing further closer to you. He'd reach past your skin if he could — have his teeth tear into your flesh, burrow into your bones, sink into the fibers of your muscle — he's happy to be a parasite if it means he can be with you—
“Lohen, stop.”
His teeth clamp down on his tongue at your command, just enough to draw blood.
It's embarrassing. The Vice Captain of the Knights of Favonius’ Fifth Company, trembling in his partner's lap, cowering like a child. He can't help it; he can't think properly with you so close to him. Any normal man would knuckle under your warmth, lurch on their axis at your touch, and he is all but just a man—
Your hands cup his cheeks, forcing his face to yours, your noses just inches apart.
It pisses you off — how absolutely angelic he looks, knowing he has so much to apologize for. Tears lace the corners of his eyes like poison on a sharp knife, arched right to your heart. There's a waver of his lips, small knit in his brows, pink in his eyes, the color of love, that makes him that much more pitiful.
“You're acting insane.” Your eye twitches, “I've never met anyone like you.”
“’M sorry,” he mumbles glumly, “I didn't mean for it to go this far.”
(You've never seen a man look more desperate in his life.
And now your heart feels soft again.)
For a moment, there's just silence. Pregnant and heavy, fallen over the two of you. There's not even a rustle on his side, like he's terrified that if he moves, time will go forward again.
“Can I ask why?”
What other reason would there be?
For the first time since being caught, his eyes meet yours wholly. Like you're the only person in the whole world, and his answer is the only truth.
His breath feels tepid on your skin, the shaky inhale and exhale as you await the answer.
“I just like being around you.” He breathes, “… Even when you're unaware of it, I just like you.”
And then his head dips, his cheek nuzzling into the palm of your hand. Like a dog at the heel of its owner, he bathes in the attention you've given him while still begging for more.
“I like you,” he confesses again — it’s not any easier to say it, even now that it's already out in the open. You feel his lips on your skin, not daring to enunciate more than needed, shielding your bare palm from his teeth. “And I’ve been holding back all this time, so please forgive me.”
There's something scrappy in his tone of voice — raw on his tongue, with something frenzied that you can't quite place.
So this is the real Lohen.
Normal? No. Well-adjusted? Certainly not. Like a wolf starving for a meal, he’s gotten himself through with instinct and madness alone. Polite greetings can't quell such a fire, and kisses out of duty will only ignite it further, so he's been staving it off by watching you — but that can't simulate what he truly desires either. He's just as obsessed as you are, to the point where it's debilitating.
Something stirs in your heart.
(Is it bad that this only makes you want him more?)
So you adjust your grip — you sit both of you up straighter on the bed, resting his chin between your propped-up knees.
“I forgive you.” You murmur, finger absentmindedly circling around his cheek, brushing his bangs back. You're impossibly close to him now —enough to see the flutter of his blue eyelashes, the faint freckles that dot his nose.
Your head tilts to the side, moving closer. “And…”
Lohen's breath hitches.
“I'm sorry you felt that you couldn't be yourself around me.”
A peck on his cheek, before you pull back. Far too brief, he'd think he imagined it if you weren't holding him right here.
“I wish you would've told me instead of going to such lengths, y'know.”
Another on his forehead. His neurons feel frayed, sent to death by overstimulation at your touch, his self-control tumbling further and further away, straight to the bear trap shut tightly around his heart.
“It's funny, isn't it?” Your laugh sounds like music to his ears — the crystalflies’ hum that floats around the grapevine at night, the songbirds that wake him up in the morning. “I guess anyone else would be worried about the logistics — how long you've been watching me, what you think about when you watch me, but…”
Your thumb brushes against his eyebags, faint and discolored. And your heart aches for him, because you know the countless hours and dedication he puts into his work, and you know what he puts his body through to keep you safe.
“I'm here worrying if you’re getting enough sleep like this. So now I’m wondering if we were made for eachother.”
He flinches as you kiss him right under his eye, right at the mole — your teeth scrape at his eyebags just lightly, and he shivers. You don’t separate from him completely this time — no, your head tilts until your forehead presses up against his, your noses bumping against the other, your breath on his lips.
You're brighter than the moon outside could ever be, and he can't help but stare with ricochet wonder.
“I just want you as you are. So please don't hide from me.”
Lohen used to imagine what it'd be like to kiss you. Hell, he was thinking about what it'd be like when he was watching you a few minutes ago — for you, he'd be a respectable man, the best he could be.
The second your lips actually touch his, though, the last thread of self-restraint snaps.
His fingers tighten at your shoulders as his face presses against yours, until the back of your skull hits the headboard and he's crawled up over you, caging you between the bed and his body.
It's a foreign feeling — his tongue licking the inside of your lips, teeth bumping awkwardly at how messy it all is — and he tries to keep his thoughts into reign again, tries not to think about how he'd unhinge his jaw to swallow you whole if he could, how he doesn't need another sip of wine ever again if it means getting drunk off of you for the rest of his life.
His partner, his precious partner, mewling vibrations against his lips, thunder in his heart and clouds in his head. Lohen could die happily here, he thinks — you could stab him in the back right now, and he'd have the pleasure of bleeding out in your arms. What an honor it would be to seep into the crevices of your skin, so that no amount of soap or water could ever rid you of him.
You're too sweet, though. Too good for him, so he'll have to stand to sticking his tongue down your throat instead, peeling you open from inside out until the nonsensical sounds you make with your lips learn to form his name instead.
Something carnal bubbles in your chest, like animal to animal alike, saliva in your mouth, melted iron on your tongue.
It's something in the way he laps up your attention, kisses you with a reverence only a devil could, like there's nothing else he'd rather do.
Lohen’s lips separate from yours far earlier than he'd like — his hands weaker on your wrists, chest heaving as he pants.
He's not nearly good enough at this yet, but he wants to be. He wants to be better for you in general, if you'd let him.
And it seems like you want to, with the way you lay your forehead on his shoulder, slowly gathering yourself the same way he is, letting him feel your uneven breaths on his collarbone. Your cheek feels warm on his skin as you turn, a contrast to the nip in the night air.
“So,” you look at him with all the unlocked adoration he used to dream about, “Was that everything you've ever wanted, my dear husband?”
He nods.
If he's being honest, he's still half-expecting you to throw him out now that you've had your fill of him at this point, to let him rot in the dungeons below you where he belongs — but you just laugh, and his heart skips a beat again.
Your lips curve into a teasing smile.
“… Stalker.”
Lohen flushes.
“I didn't—” His protest is cut off short by another kiss on his lips. Softer, this time. Sweeter.
Enough for him to want to go back in and capture yours properly again, but then you sigh contentedly, flopping back down on your mattress.
“You'll stay the night, won't you?” You ask innocently, running your hand up his thigh, “Unless you're content to just watch me until the sun rises.”
(As if on cue, one of the straps to your tank top slips off your shoulder, revealing your bare skin.
Lohen thinks that maybe he's been the one walking into the lion's den this entire time.)
“I…”
“Perfect!” Your hands promptly grab his forearm, pulling him down to you.
This is twice that you've thrown him to the mattress, he thinks, another three or four times more that you've manhandled him just this night alone. Is this what he should expect from married life from now on? Should he invest in a new mattress?
He scarcely has time to think before you're by his side again, arms wrapped around his waist, your lips pressing kisses to his clavicle.
“Y'know … we never consummated the marriage, Lohen,” you murmur, unable to hide the mischievous tone in your voice, “Shall we make it official tonight?”
You're going to be the death of him, but he doesn't mind.
lowkeyyyy hate the way this ended but couldnt think of anything else so . idk i just wanted to make out with him
i think the funny thing is that bro isn't sleeping when u share a bed either 😭 he just gets to stare closer now
Lohen, known for wandering back into the knights headquarters bloodied and bruised from a 'successful hunt' and yet still has the energy to outrun the very upset Jean, has but a few weaknesses in this world.
And you are indeed one of them.
Lohen, despite himself, suffers from an ailment no amount of medicine has been able to cure; despite desperate and ongoing treatment. Something that plagues his everyday life and threatens to disrupt his work as vice captain on a daily basis. The one thing that can turn the cunning vice captain into a ball of mush.
That being: how damn cute you are.
You could be just sitting around reading a book, you could bringing his lunch to the training grounds, you could be dressing up his rabbits in costumes, or you could be making dinner- minding your own dang buisness- when suddenly the excitable Lohen lunges for you like a lion on the prowl. He's so quiet you might not even notice he's approaching until he's engulfed you in his arms, holding on tightly and not planning on letting you go anytime soon. It would be an adorable moment to any outside observer, just a man happy to embrace his lover after a long day of work. Something out a romance novel really.
But you know better. You know Lohen can't control himself when his cuteness aggression takes over.
He nuzzles his head into your neck affectionately, it's not that bad yet. He's just excited to see you. After all, he's been busy with paperwork all week, any man would seek his doting partners presence after such a long week of work.
Lohen peers over your shoulder to watch you cook, occasionally pressing a kiss onto your neck while you work. He's being surprisingly calm.
Too calm.
And then it happens, suddenly without warning.
He leans his head back just enough to build momentum, and bites your shoulder as hard as he can, releasing just as fast when you jump from the surprise 'attack.'
You can smack him, bite him back, or ignore him all you want, but it won't change the goofy grin on his face while he watches you get so flustered over a little 'love bite.'
"I'm sorry, bunny! I can't help it, you're just so cute I could eat you up!" He coos, as he cleans the wound. Taking his time so infection won't set in.
Some days it's hard to tell if he's joking or not.
__________
I'll be uploading more fics soon now that things have cooled off over here, that and the WIPs list is getting too long. Have a nice night everyone!
AHHH CONGRATS ON 100 !!!reading ur stuff always puts a smile on my face. excited to see what you'll come up with !!
THANK U!! <3 i honestly wanted to keep this one going for a bit sobs, so im not super happy with the ending bit but! hehe i hope u enjoy nonetheless
find the event here!
Next to you, there is an incessant tapping.
It thrums against the floor like a frantic melody, fairly quiet but unending in its repetition. Despite how frenzied the sound was, it still remained composed and rhythmic. If you didn't know any better, you'd think it was the beat of a song without lyrics, tapped only to capture the memory of the tune before it is forgotten.
You did, however, know better, and you were also beginning to worry that there would be a hole burned into the polished wooden floors of the Favonius headquarters by the end of this banquet if this irritated fidgeting didn't cease.
"Lohen, hey…" You start, your finger beginning to tap the table in time with his foot, as if you didn't even have to properly think about it before you were following along with the knight's whims. He only hums in response, a vague little sound that you aren't entirely sure was even meant for you.
"Hey, are you listening?"
"Mm-hmm, yep."
The tapping continues, as if you had never spoken to begin with.
"How're you doing over there?"
"Huh… Yeah, yeah."
Your eye twitches minutely, and you're struck with the sudden urge to grab the man by the shoulders and shake him like a rag doll. You don't, of course— because unlike someone else at this event, you have at least an ounce of decorum.
Finally, Lohen laughs. He leans forward, pressing his elbow against the table rather improperly to gaze at you— and finally, the tapping comes to an end. "I'm messing with you. I've been listening."
"Jerk."
"You love it."
You aren't quite able to stop yourself this time, when you reach over and flick him right in the center of his forehead. This, of course, only serves to make him laugh harder.
"Anyway," You're a little exasperated when you finally continue on, much to Lohen's apparent delight. "What're you in such a mood for, huh? You don't tap your foot that much unless you're irritated."
Lohen's expression sours instantly, looking down at the empty plate in front of him. The porcelain is shiny and clean for the event, void of even a singular speck of dust. It must be a big change for someone who has grown so used to eating out in the wild. You wonder if he feels out of place here.
"Hey, don't start, alright?" Lohen's lips press into a thin line, "You know I'd rather be anywhere but here."
"Come on, Its a banquet! Can't you at least be excited to share a meal with your brothers and sisters in arms?"
"Oh please," Lohen huffs, leaning back in his chair with an aura so glum that you could almost imagine a little raincloud hovering up above his head. "This is a political event, not a social one. This is all just for appearances."
You can't help but laugh at his pessimism, and Lohen's eyes dart back over to you at the sound. You've found, recently, that Lohen's attention seems laughably easy to capture the moment your joy seeps out— as if your amusement alone has bewitched him so thoroughly that he can't bear to tear his eyes away from the sight.
"Come on, cheer up," You reach over to playfully knock against Lohen's arm, and all of a sudden he's sitting upright like you've slapped him clean across the face. "I bet half of these guys will be too drunk to walk in two hours tops. Then we can—"
"Sneak out?" Lohen cuts in before you can finish, leaning into your personal bubble as if he belongs there. "Go and spar? Cut up some monsters, maybe?"
Theres a heavy sigh building in your chest before you can do anything to stop it. This guy…
"You know what? Fine. Make it through two hours, and we'll go hunt some monsters."
Somehow, despite the stress you're already feeling because of it, the gleeful smile that breaks across Lohen's face at your agreement makes all of your exasperation worth it.
you tossed and turned, trying to sleep in your bed but nothing works. not even the chamomile tea that you made is working its magic. scenery changed from the ceiling to your bedside drawer. it was suffocating. you couldnt breath well, not after what happened earlier that day.
laying on your side, you tried to clear your mind again from everything, but those whispers were still there, haunting you in every heartbeat. your mind imagined things that havent happen yet, making your headache even worse.
you wanted to give up on everything -your dreams, your hopes, your life even. you'd trade it for a fate where you dont have to trouble yourself into dealing with all of these. you wanted to cry, but it had been so long since you last shed tears for yourself. perhaps you have forgotten how to cry after all this while.
how pathetic you felt. failure is normal, and you learn and grow from that. but you were so desperate to break free from this mundane routine, waging your freedom for a better life. was it worth it ? you dont even know.
you found no joy in anything that you did as of late. reading, board games, exploring, nothing works anymore. you've lost your sense of self who-knows-when. there was no one to blame but yourself.
the clock ticked. it was almost 2 in the morning. you sighed heavily, shuddering with how burned out you were at the moment. where could you possibly get a good night sleep in such state ?
"shh~ you're thinking out loud again, sugarplum."
arms came up from your behind to hug your head in a cautious manner. you were so deep in your wallowing that you forgot lohen was staying the night with you in your quarter.
you sighed again. not because he annoyed you in some way. you were just ... tired.
lohen didnt ask anything. he had seen you at your worst. he understands you more than yourself. all he wanted was for his dearest to be at ease at the hour of resting. his hand kept patting your head, as if soothing an injured deer.
"you can tell me everything when you feel like it. but until then, know that im here. im not going anywhere."
the moment he kissed the back of your head, tears started to spill from your eyes. maybe you needed to hear that, or perhaps you were touched by his kindness thats reserved only for you. you didnt know.
you started to sob lightly, until it became unbeareable for you to muffled your cries. you let everything out. you had been enduring this for so long. now its time for you to share your troubles with lohen.
"its alright. everything is going to be alright. you dont have to act strong when you're with me. i know you worked harder that anyone else. let me pamper you this time, okay ?"
you dont know what you did to deserve someone like him. but for now, just in this moment, you wanted to be a spoiled princess. it may sounded selfish, but lohen wouldnt mind it, since its you. no one deserves his affections more than you. as your knight in shining armor, that was simply his duty.
and so he coddled you all night long, wiping your tears away, whispering words of love and encouragement tailored just for you. nothing beats falling asleep in his embrace as he guarded you safely from those negative thoughts.
-
a/n: writing this bc i need comfort. my job application got rejected bc they needed someone to fill in the position as early as july, and since im still employed, i need to serve a one month notice, which sucks.
the hr was quick to reach out to me within several hours after i've submitted my application. they have lots of interesting benefits, and i can reach there with public transport. i was excited bc they seemed to want to take me in. but alas, life has other plans for me. i wish i can just reincarnate into genshin or other games. adulting is hard ! i hate it so much. i dont want to work anymore 😭
a/n. ive been sucking up all lohen fics so here is a small drabble because i love him (totally should do dottore next as well)
maybe small tw of stalking?
lohen surely had..many hobbies. most people assumed they involved fighting, training, paperwork or whatever mysterious work occupied his time. and while those assumptions werent entirely wrong, there was one pastime he enjoyed far more than he would ever openly admit.
and that was watching you. yes, just like i said.
well not in a threatening way at least, or well..not by his standards that was. the two of you had already been dating for a few months by now, yet lohen seemed to have developed a strange habit of appearing wherever you went. the marketplace? he would be leaning against a nearby wall when you turned around. the library? somehow he would already be sitting at the table you were heading toward. a quiet stroll through town? lohen would casually emerge from a side street as though it were pure coincidence.
to begin with you actually believed it had to be a coincidence. he was the vice captain after all. but then..you started noticing the small things in his behavior. how his piercing gaze would follow you across the crowded streets in mondstadt on a sunny day. or how he just knew exactly which time you would sit down for a coffee with lisa and chat. and of course seeing him from a distance making his way towards you with that amused grin of his.
so when you finally had enough and spotted him on the rooftop of a house, all you did was call out his name. it was enough now of this.
you crossed your arms, looking up and furrowed your brows.
"lohen"
hee glanced down, a small smirk playing on his lips already.
"yes?"
"were you following me?"
"no, that would be so improper of me, wouldnt it?"
you were clearly not having it. he was just so..infuriatingly calm about it. probably feeding off on your sweet expressions.
"you have been standing on that roof for twenty minutes"
"hm..a pure coincidence love"
"you literally watched me walk through three different stores. you call that not stalking me??"
"just observation. who knows what danger lures around at this time"
"lohen we are in the middle of mondstadt. the worst is me getting scared from a damn dog or cat sneaking around. the knights keep good watch you know?"
you stared at him, tilting your head and trying to read whatever thought was going through his mind. he stared back. his mouth twitched upward. that damn bastard wasnt even trying to hide his little games anymore.
"lohen..", you called out again.
"hm?", he chuckled and his smile grew. lohen jumped down from the rooftop with that beautiful grace and landed right beside you.
"stalking is such an unpleasant word, isnt it now?"
"because thats exactly what youre doing.."
"im making sure my beloved doesnt get into trouble this late"
you gave up then and there, letting out a groan and covering your face. now way you would let him suck this up. because the worst part wasnt even that he followed you. it was the fact of how damn pleased he looked whenever you noticed he was so close to you.
lohen leaned closer, lowering his voice so you could clearly hear him. "you know..", he murmured, "youre quite cute when youre trying to figure out how long ive been watching you beloved"
your face immediately warmed up. you swore if you looked into the mirror you would resemble a tomato at this rate.
"....how long?"
his smile only widened.
"wouldnt you like to know?"
the answer scared you.
because judging by the amusement in his eyes, it was probably much longer than you wanted to hear. and unfortunately for you, lohen absolutely intended to keep doing it. if only because seeing your flustered reactions had become one of his favorite forms of entertainment since he returned from nod-krai.
after all, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didnt keep an eye on his favorite person? even if that meant teasing you about it every chance he got.
⌗ 🐇—The sweetest looking things are the most poisonous ones.
You were giving Lohen a hard time just to be around you—but he never gave up, claiming that the 'poison lady' was interesting and...too good with poison to give up on. And that's how it happened, your relationship bloomed with his need for poison and your curiosity to discover new ones.
₍ᐢ._.ᐢ₎ — Lohen x Maomao!Reader !
Cw/tw: Poison (🥀) , reader and lohen plotting / uh...Lohen? Cutie needs his own warning.
Dividers by: @/dollywons
You were one of Albedo's apprentice, beside Sucrose and Timaeus—But not exactly for the same reason as them. They were his apprentice because they were deeply inspired by his revolutionary approach to Alchemy. You, you were his apprentice because you found the usage of Alchemy very usefull for one of your hobbies—making poison.
You've had an obsession with poison since you were young, finding it interesting. As a kid, you even grew curious and kept drinking from not deadly poison to mid level poisons. Which has gifted you resistance against any kind of poisoning.
You often used sucrose to get some flowers and use them for your recipes, even stealing borrowing the notebooks in Albedo's laboratory just to get further informations.
⸺ Innevitable Meeting
Your life was good, you were having fun—Mondstadt had varieties of flowers, which made your task easier—until you crossed road with an annoying guy.
You met Lohen outside Mondstadt city's gates, you were studying poisonous flowers and which one had more potential—with you, you had a bag with multiple vials of substance that's in the making. Next to the bag was another vial, that one in the herbs next to you. You weren't really worried, the vial had a "DANGEROUS POISON! DO NOT CONSUME" sign on it—you didn't really care until some people thought it was something else so you decided to put a bit of effort.
"How much is this?"
An unknown voice spoke from behind you, annoyed at the distraction you turned around. "I don't sell any—"
You cut yourself off, watching as the guy that asked you the question was covered in blood, from the pants to the dagger in his hand and his cheeks, he was eyeing the vial with interest. "I'm gonna take three of this."
"I don't sell them. Give it back." You glared at him, proceeding to yank the vial from him but he lifted his hand up. "Y'know, poison trafficking is illegal right?"
"And who are you to tell me that? I don't sell them. I already said th—"
"Glad you asked! I'm Lohen, vice-captain of the fifth company. Greetings, criminal." He said, waving with his other hand as he smiled creepily—actually, he was smiling like that since he came, you just didn't notice.
"Is this supposed to intimidate me? Move out of my way." Annoyed by the interruption of your peace and quiet afternoon, you grabbed your things before standing back up. "And i'll take this, thank you." You hit his hand, making the vial fall in your hands instead. "Have a great afternoon Sir."
Lohen was surprised, nobody ever did that to him—most would have left the vial with him or even wouldn't have talked to him the way you did. He saw that you were about to hit him obviously , but strangely he let you do it—he stole another from the backpack when you weren't focused anyway.
Hm?
And since that day, the vice-captain did not stop tormenting you. He would appear at places you never knew he went to, he started asking sucrose about you—which confused you because how did he manage to know you knew her.
He started talking to you about the poison, you refused each time he asked to borrow one.
You saw this as an inconvenience, he saw it as a game—it's not everyday that you see someone talk like that to Lohen himself.
Eventually you got to know about him, after he was done with his knight work, he would everytime come to your workshop and stay 10 to 20 minutes before leaving. He'd talk to you about why and how he uses poison—you never asked, yet it intrigued you.
Using poison against hilichurls is effective and harmless. You always had a problem, yes, you made poison—but you had no one to test it on and you were too weak to test on hilichurls, so you never ended up knowing the effect. But now that Lohen is here, you figured that giving this maniac a chance wouldn't be that bad after all.
You proposed Lohen a deal when he came to see you.
"You want my poisons right? Then, how about a deal?" You asked, watching him intently as he smiled. "Hm? A deal you say?"
"I'll give you my poison, if and only if you tell me their effect on the enemies you fight."
He shrugged. "Sure."
Relationship Headcanons ⸺ The poisonous bunny & the deceiving hare...
You had no idea how it happened, but somehow the mischievious knight found his way in your heart sooner than expected. He brought you to dates, most dates are just him fighting hilichurls with your poison and you watching him while taking notes.
You'd definitely be his personal charger, like everytime his capsule would be empty, you'd just fill it with another liquid each time. Which saved Lohen the hassle.
Mondstadt is scared of your pair. People already thought of you as a weirdo; the weird giggles you'd let out while muttering the most unhinged things infront of merchands did make the tour of the city. And now that you're with someone as unhinged and feared as you, the knights really won't see the end of it.
Something "fun" that you two do is Lohen instructing and explaining to the knights why they should use poison on their enemy—talking about efficiency and speed, while you would sometime talk about which one and what kind they should use. Which terrifies them because why are you talking about some toxic plant named "queen of poisons" that cause severe neurological and cardiovascular distress.
They call it "the hour of fear" you and Lohen just see it as "Necessary education" or as a date.
"...and that's why you should use it more often." You ended your monologue, ignoring the clear discomfort and worried expression of the knights.
"[Name], are you...doing okay?" One of the knights asked, very worried about your extensive knowledge in that field.
"She's doing great." Lohen intruded himself in the conversation, a smile creeping up his face. "But the only one you should worry about is you, knights."
Shivers ran down their spine.
Gulp.
One time, you tried something different. You composed a poison that can give slight pain to the body, not deadly, it's mostly to strenghten the body to endure pain better. Except, you did it as a lipstick for curious reason.
You didn't tell Lohen, but it wasn't surprising he came home and you pecked his cheeks—he felt it instantly. Pain overflowing his body, but the freak only smiled. "That a new one, bun?" With his cheek pressed on your neck. "Love that color on you by the way."
Only Lohen could tell you that the tint of a poison looks good on someone. Strange, strange but adorable.
You needed some kind of fun (other than poison) in your life anyway, having Lohen seems to be just what you needed.
