When you're looking at him like that, like the stars have found their home in the deep dark blue of his eyes, he finds it hard to compose himself. He has fought gods before without batting an eye, but one pretty smile from you and his heart has fully surrendered.
Aka ; celebrating your childhood best friend's birthday.
feat. tartaglia & gn!reader
content : fluff, childhood friends to lovers, childe tartaglia ajax, kind of codependency (from tartag himself), tartag pre and post abyss, babytag is really shy and timid, little ajax is also kinda lowk unsettling, ooc tartag bc of self indulgence.
w.c. : 4k
note : HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITEST BOY !! i'm so excited to write for him again, and continue my annual tartag bday fic streak again maybe? ToT last time i wrote him was in 2023 can you believe that? anyways, he is one of my most beloved characters and seeing him pop up again in snezhnaya is like a dream come true. i hope to see him a lot more in the game and to see the resurgence of his popularity hehe. i loved him since 2020 and i'll love him forevermore !!
You never knew how beautiful the ocean could be until it's staring into you in the form of deep, endless azure eyes.
He's smaller than you. His frame is thin and fragile as he trembles behind his mother's legs as if she were the barrier against your fearful form at the very scary age of ten. His hair is tumultuous with fluffy orange tufts flying in every direction as if they were fallen rays of pure, fiery sunsets that yearn to return to its celestial body in the sky.
A crimson scarf wraps around his neck, nearly engulfing his entire body with the sheer length. The knitting is tight with love braided into every stitch; the yarn is soft to the touch from a simple glance. The boy buries his face deeper into the sea of red the longer you stare at him as if hiding from your piercing gaze.
Despite the young boy's small frame, his wide blue eyes and mere presence alone were palpable like peering into an abyssal trench hidden beneath cerulean waves.
How funny he is; a golden sunset setting behind the horizon of the ocean personified into a child that shakes at your mere glance. Yet, even through the obvious shaking in his small frame, the azure ocean seems ready to swallow you whole.
"Go on, introduce yourself," his mother urges her shy son forward with a gentle hand on his back. "They're new here, wouldn't you want to help be their first friend in Morepesok?"
He moves with hesitance, mouth parting just a moment before speaking to you with a quiet voice as small as he is.
"I'm Ajax."
Your eyes blink once, twice. Then, a smile grows on your lips even at his simple greeting before you share your own name with him, sealing a fate intertwined with him without even realizing it.
From then on, the little Ajax is glued to your side through every passing day. His fingers curl around the hem of your sleeve, tightening only when the other kids of the small fishing village approach you. His body remains flush to your own as if shrinking himself away from the attention of the numerous children asking you to play.
And yet, you turn them down in favor of accompanying the small boy beside you. Perhaps it is because you pity him and his hesitant behavior; with his body hiding behind your own as if shielding himself from the words and attention of any of the other children, he resembled a tiny lamb and you his shepherd.
Or maybe it's because every time he stares at you with those wide, open eyes you're reminded of the never ending abyss that is the ocean and the only way to survive is to placate whatever lurks underneath sea foam crusted waves.
Ajax's birthday falls in the middle of summer and, despite being deep in the middle of the warmest season of the year, the chill does not escape the small village of Morepesok. Even as the sun shines brilliantly at the peak of noon, the frigid afternoon wind does not melt away the frost clinging to the flora.
And it does nothing for the icy dread that shoots down your spine when you open the front door of your home excited for the day to come only to find Ajax himself sitting on your small porch.
His knees are pulled to his chest and his scarlet scarf nearly engulfs his entire head. Familiar orange tufts fly up into the air like usual as his small, freckled face hides beneath red fabric. But, even through the bundled knitting, it cannot hide the shaking of his shoulders or the scrapes on his small hands.
He's already looking at you when you finally meet his gaze.
"Ajax…" You breathe out his name, kneeling down beside his small body. "What happened to you?" Your hands, just as small as he is, gently tug at the red scarf around his neck. You expect him to reel away from your touch, both in fear and embarrassment, but he doesn't fight against you as you reveal his face to you.
Freckled skin is tarnished with scrapes and dried blood and tears stain his plump cheeks. There's a cut on his upper lip and his knuckles are heavily bruised.
"I'll go get-" You begin, but your words are interrupted when a hand reaches out and grabs the edge of your sleeve.
"Don't leave me," Ajax finally says to you. His voice is barely a whisper, words nearly taken away by the brisk breeze flowing through the quiet streets of Morepesok. But you catch them anyways as if the breeze carried them directly to you.
You want to disagree; seeing him in such a state sends your heart into disarray, but the lull of the sea hidden behind blue eyes makes you bite your tongue.
And so you stay.
Settling beside him, your knees gently bump into his. The sun continues to shine with its radiance, casting everything in its subtle warmth. Morepesok is awake with its few citizens off fishing for the day or herding the rambunctious children away from the outskirts of the village and from the dangers of the sprawling woods surrounding the town. Your mother's singing comes from within the house almost like a calming lullaby alongside the quiet sniffles and hiccups from Ajax.
"Was it those kids that did this to you?" You ask after a few moments of silence.
Ajax parts his lips, then closes them with a slight nod of his head.
"They…" he begins with a shaky breath, voice slightly congested from the tears shed. "They told me to go into the woods if I wanted to continue being friends with you. That you wouldn't want to stay friends with someone like me."
Heat bubbles up from within your chest and your heart rate slowly begins to rise. "And so you went into the woods?"
"Only for a little bit… I followed them in and then they pushed me into the ground. I tried to get up but some of them shoved me back down," Ajax tells you. "I… I fought as hard as I could but I could only do so much."
The heat fills every inch of your body at the thought of your friend being harassed by some… some hooligans in this town. Your nostrils flare and your fingers clench tightly into a fist.
But, as if reading your mind and the intentions permeating off of you, Ajax turns to look at you. His eyes, reddened and raw from crying, bring you a sense of calm. They're a sea of the deepest blue, something that should unsettle you to your core from how vast it seems. Yet, the heat in your chest slowly simmers down because of him.
"You won't leave me, right? Not because I cry a lot?"
A scoff leaves your lips as you lean closer to your small companion. His eyes are wide open, both in surprise from your reaction and the proximity of your face to his. From here, you could see the constellation of freckles across his cheeks and the dirt and grime from the woods smeared across his face—you'll get your revenge on those hooligans one day.
But for now…
"Of course not. I'm your friend, and you'd have to do a lot more than cry to get rid of me," you reassure the small boy with a smile. "I cry a lot too; Mama used to tease me about it, but she always told me it's never a bad thing to cry. That just means you care."
At your words, the sun finally pierces through the chill surrounding Morepesok. The frost dusting over the small village melts away, leaving nothing but a trail of dew in its path. And there's a warmth that grows even brighter in pure, blue seas.
"Promise?" He holds his little pinky out for you to hold. Your lips curl upward and lock your pinky with his.
An eternal promise.
"Until the day I die."
The front door of your house creaks open with ease and both yours and Ajax's heads swivel towards the sound only to be greeted with the sight of your mother. Her eyes snap on you, then your friend, and a sharp gasp rips through her mouth. Within the blink of an eye, your mother scoops Ajax up within her arms and ushers you inside in a hurry.
"Oh goodness, what in the world happened to you?" She asks, setting down your companion on a wooden chair pulled from the dining room table. She leaves for a brief moment and returns with a box filled with various medicinal ointments, disinfectant wipes, and bandages.
"Don't tell me you and Ajax got into a scuffle?" Your mother turns to you, brows furrowed and lips pulled into a tight frown.
"They would never, Miss," Ajax responds for you. His hand gently tugs on your mother's sleeve and she turns her attention to him. "I just fell in the woods."
In the midst of your mother's concerned scolding and her deft fingers cleaning up the scrapes on Ajax's skin, the two of you meet your gazes. The same thought seems to flash through your minds—the promise you swore on the porch of your home—and both laughter and warmth fills your home in the middle of Morepesok.
The melodic warbles of songbirds amidst the gradual ascent of the morning sun seeping through sheer curtains pulls you away from the comfort of your dreams. The morning air nips at your cheeks, but it's far from the bite that you're used to from the small fishing village you grew up in. The heating magic surrounding Snezhnaya City warms the capital despite the sheer cold in the outskirts of the city.
It's warmer here than in Morepesok. A bit too warm…
Your eyes snap open to the body laying smack in front of you. His breathing is even, barely making a sound. Constellations dance across his cheeks and nose in a way that you're all too familiar with, and tangerine strands curl in every way imaginable. He's sleeping above your covers and a breath of relief slides past your lips.
Even with the permeating cold that haunts Snezhnaya, there's a comfortable warmth from your childhood friend. Is it because his body temperature has always run on the warmer side since he was young? Or maybe it's because his presence alone brings you enough comfort to warm your heart, rather, your soul?
As your heart rate slowly comes back down, your eyes slowly take in the sight in front of you. Ajax is much bigger than he was all those years ago. It didn't take long for him to grow taller than you and, much to your chagrin, his height only continued to grow until he towered over you. His shoulders broadened the older he got and, after he was sent to work for the Fatui, his constant sparring and dangerous missions defined his muscles further.
Even his personality has slowly changed from a small boy who constantly hid behind you and shook like a leaf to a man who holds his head high and brightens up the room with his mere presence alone. Though, some of this could be attributed to his sudden disappearnce when he was fourteen, you want to thank the Fatui for building his confidence even further.
He's much different than the Ajax you once knew. And yet, despite everything, he's still the same Ajax you know and love.
He still wears that red scarf his mother knit him all those years ago whenever he visits Snezhnaya—it's cold and smells like home is always his excuse—its presence lost draped somewhere in your apartment. He always tails you around when he's in town to visit both you and the Tsaritsa on the terms of 'protecting you' in the streets of Snezhnaya City. He eats all of your cooking with that cute, boyish smile on his face that he never really grew out of—the dimples in his cheeks deepen the wider he smiles and sends your heart into a panic.
And he treats you the same as he always does; like his best friend that he has known for his entire life.
Your mother used to tease you with the idea of being Ajax's partner in the near future, a silly idea that you always brush off with a scoff. Because why would that even be plausible? A risk of ruining the friendship built on years of trust?
Even as your heart thumps loudly in your eardrums when Ajax heartily laughs at your jokes and looks at you like you're the light guiding him home in an abyss of darkness, you shrug those feelings off and push away the steady rhythm of your heart and the heat that spreads to your finger tips.
With a heavy exhale, you slowly pull back your blanket from your body in hopes of letting your dear friend sleep for a while longer… Only for deep blue eyes to open and meet your gaze. Your chest lurches.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to…" You murmur softly, turning to look at him fully. His gaze never leaves yours. "I was going to make you breakfast."
"For what reason?" Ajax responds to you. He shifts his position in the bed to where his head rests on his arms as he lay on his stomach. "You can stay in bed and sleep a bit more since we slept so late yesterday night."
"You make it seem like I'm old; I didn't even make it to midnight!"
"I mean, if the shoe fits— Hey!"
A fluffy pillow is thrown into his face, one he could easily deflect but when it comes to you it seems that you always get your way with him.
"Be nice to me, it's my birthday!" He exclaims amidst a sea of chuckles. His voice is still a bit rough from just waking up; a pleasant timbre that you don't seem to mind listening to.
"Exactly, and you're my guest. Isn't it better to be served breakfast in bed?" You reply, sitting up so you could look down at him. This simple act was so that you could have the advantage of higher ground—something you never got to experience when it came to him and his height—and yet peering down at his figure laying in your bed still rendered you helpless.
The most beautiful shade of blue gazes up at you; the sun's golden rays seeping into your bedroom cast warmth and light over his entire being as if he were warmth incarnate. Those deep, oceanic eyes are nothing but shallow tide pools waiting for you to take the step into their crystal clear waters.
An invitation into the safety of his sea.
He's smiling at you; crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the faint echo of his dimples peeking through the corner of his lips almost taunting you to make him smile any wider. Like the comfort of the hearth and the serenity of basking in the fleeting glow of the flickering embers, the radiance of his grin sets your heart ablaze.
And you turn from it when your heart skips a beat.
"Remember when we were young and I followed you everywhere?" Ajax's voice is gentle, as calm as the ocean waves lapping at the shoreline of Morepesok where the two of you played during your youth. His fingers brush against your own and sparks light up where his calloused fingertips touch your skin.
"What about it?" you ask, holding back the urge to pull your hand away to save your poor beating heart.
Your friend doesn't answer at first and, instead, there's a glimmer in his rather dull eyes.
"Nothing much," he begins. His fingers slide forward, filling up the spaces between yours with ease. "But, thank you for being my friend for all these years. I know I was a little annoying always latched onto your side but…
"You were- are my haven. Everything intimidated me as a child, even when I wanted to adventure out with the rest of the kids there. My older siblings used to tease me about it, and of course the village kids did to the worst degree." Ajax's fingers brush past your knuckles and squeezes your hand with a tender touch. You can feel every callous, every scar that runs across his hands; a hand that has dealt with nothing but combat and adrenaline holding yours like all he knows is fragility and affection.
"But you never did."
"Of course I didn't," you say almost immediately. "Why would I when you're my friend? And I promised you we'd be friends forever, right?"
Ajax doesn't say anything; his eyes reflect the light like the sparkling of the sea's surface and, through the tender gaze directed at you, a waterfall of words begin to spill from your heart.
"Just as you find me important in your life, you forget that you've changed my life too. I don't think I could remember a time without you. You've always been with me, always cheered me up when I needed it, and I could never imagine a life without you. I mean, you're here with me now spending your birthday with me when Morepesok is so far away.
"You're nothing but brave and compassionate, someone I look up to even now as we're older. You've gotten through everything, from being lost in the woods for who knows how long and now when you've climbed your way up the Fatui ranks to be one of the Tsaritsa's beloved Harbingers. You're so hard-working and so loyal to Her Majesty the Tsaritsa and to your family. There's no one I'm more proud of than you, Ajax."
He blinks for a moment, blue eyes gazing deeply into your own as if searching for any playfulness hidden between your words of sincerity. Two. And then he swiftly turns his head over his shoulder with his free hand covering his mouth. His face is hidden from your direct sight, but nothing can hide the bright red creeping across his ears and neck.
The other remains holding yours, grasping it as if you'd fade away if he let go.
"That's not fair…" he mumbles into his hand with a voice that's carried off by the morning breeze. But you hear it as clear as day.
"I'm sorry if I said something wrong," you begin, slowly sliding your hand away.
However, Ajax reacts faster than you do. His fingers squeeze around yours before you could slip away from his grasp. His head swivels back to your direction and you're face to face to the state your words, what you, had reduced your friend to.
A bright rosiness spreads across Ajax's face. The freckles that dance across his cheeks swim in a sea of warm pink. His brows are furrowed, bunching up slightly at the center. His eyes, however, wide open at your fleeting touch. The ocean is in turmoil with panicked waves desperately clinging on to whatever they had left of you as if afraid you would slip away from him.
"You didn't!" Your dear friend interjects abruptly. His lips close silently when he notices the surprise in your expression. Blue eyes avert for a second, but they meet yours again, much calmer.
"You didn't upset me," Ajax repeats in a tone less agitated from before. His throat bobs, teeth clenching down on his bottom lip as a million thoughts race through his mind. "When you tell me those things, when you speak from your heart with nothing but honesty, I get so dazed. You make my heart go to war with the way it beats around you, but it's a battle I'm ready to lose if it means losing to you.
"It's not fair how defenseless I feel when I'm around you."
Endless blues are filled with candor and the warmth that seemed to emanate from him seeps further into you from where his fingers touched yours to your chest. The steady rhythm of your heart gradually staggers and pulls your heart into an accelerando that's difficult to ignore.
"…What are you saying right now?" you ask amidst the thunderous lurching of your heart.
"I love you." Ajax says it so naturally, as if this was something he was born to do. As if loving you came naturally to him. Azure seas never leave your gaze and it does nothing to calm down the thrumming coming from your chest. You can feel the heat burning your ears and face; are you dreaming?
Your childhood friend smiles one more time. "You don't have to respond now-"
"I-I love you too!" You say almost immediately, an echo of what he did earlier. His eyes widen at your outburst and your lips immediately press into a thin line. You close your eyes and send a silent prayer to Her Majesty the Tsaritsa so she may smite you down in this spot right now; what a way to answer a confession. "I'm sorry, what I meant was-"
Soft chuckling is what you hear at first; it's breathy and light like this morning shared with your childhood friend before they grow louder and, suddenly, Ajax is laughing heartily beside you. His mouth is pulled to a huge smile to the point where the indents at the corner of his mouth are prominent. His eyes are closed and you're able to see his long, orange lashes that sit perfectly on his skin.
Everything about him is loved by the sun; from his orange hair that matches the heat that it radiates to the dozens of freckles that only grow in numbers the longer he basks in its radiance to the warmth that he shares with his mere presence alone.
And you are caught in his orbit, pulled closer and closer by the hand riddled with scars that you've come to recognize and love all the same.
When the laughter spilling from his lips has calmed down, Ajax is smiling at you with mirth seeping from every inch of his expression. There's a certain softness that his gaze holds; you want to indulge in it for the next forever.
"Can I be greedy just for one moment?" he asks you.
"After laughing at me, I don't really want you to," you respond curtly, though your faux anger fades away shortly after he chuckles again.
"Please? It's my birthday."
As weak as he is to you, you are to him. With a simple nod, Ajax's smile widens and his free hand reaches towards your face. His palm is rough as it touches your skin, but you don't recoil from his touch. His thumb brushes your cheek briefly before he's pulling your head down.
His lips are much softer than the rest of his body, his kisses even more so. And yet, even as his hands shake beside your face and the other clings to your own to ground himself, you find yourself completely enamored by this simple display of affection. If your heart wasn't exploding at the confession prior, it definitely exploded now as Ajax moves his lips in tandem with yours.
A kiss filled with nothing but your shared love and the comfort of loving someone you've shared the first half of your life with.
And yet, your heart does not calm even as you pull away from him. For the beautiful, cerulean seas that you've come to find your solace in are gazing at you as if you've written his name in the stars.
"Happy birthday, Ajax," you murmur softly as your friend, no… lover, holds you in his hands like you're his entire world. Like every cloud floating in the sky were formed by your own hands and every wave created with a simple wave of your finger. You are his everything, and he is yours. "I love you."
Ajax grins boyishly, the smile that you love and yearn to see for your next eternity together. "I love you more."
When asked how they feel about you, how do they respond?
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|| GN! Reader ||
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Characters Featured: Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Diluc, Durin, Kaeya, and Kaveh
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(Part 2 probably coming soon)
About Y/n
"Y/n? They're a competent worker, makes good coffee, and isn't the most annoying researcher I've met. So I suppose I don't mind them too much."
About Y/n: Coffee Preferences
"Y/n knows how I like my coffee. They haven't gotten it wrong once... Have I made coffee for them? No... should I?"
About Y/n: Crush?
"............You're imagining things."
About Y/n
"I find Y/n to be quite lovely. They provide a moment of rest in my busy day, I couldn't be more thankful for their presence in my life."
About Y/n: Duties
"Y/n helps me out with many things around the estate. They work so hard; I wish I could convince them to take more breaks. They tell me I worry too much, but... do I?"
About Y/n: Crush?
"Ah... ahaha. What a curious thing to say. I have no idea what you mean. You do have other things to do now, don't you? You ought to take care of your own business before nosing into mine."
About Y/n
"Y/n is rather kind and has a good head on their shoulders, most like them for that alone, but I admire their strength as well. They play Genius Invokation TCG with me as well, even if I never let them win."
About Y/n: Frequent Visits
"Isn't it my job as the General Mahamatra to check in on researchers? I doubt Y/n would do anything dangerous, but they've had a few research partners trying to push the envelope a little too much. I'm just checking in on them... and of course I do this with other researchers... It'd be irresponsible not to..."
About Y/n: Crush?
"...No clue what you're refering to."
About Y/n
"Y/n is one of those few people who can get along with anyone. They're just easy to get along with. I find myself relying on that skill of theirs for intel and general information gathering. They're dependable in that way, more so than any of the Knights of Favonius."
About Y/n: Drinking Habits
"Y/n often visits the tavern when I'm working the bar; I know their drink preferences by heart at this point. They have good taste. Why are you looking at me like that? It's not so strange to know a... friend's drink of choice, now is it?"
About Y/n: Crush?
"Urk... I... where did you get that idea? Y/n is just a close confidant and f... friend. I see no point in muddying the relationship with such feelings... that I don't have."
About Y/n
"Miss Y/n? Oh! They're so lovely! They gave me some really nice pens a few weeks ago... I wanted to give something in return, but I couldn't really think of anything... maybe I should ask Hat Guy?"
About Y/n: Favorite Thing
"My favorite thing about Y/n is their smile! It always makes me happy when I see that smile. I wonder if I was ever the cause of their smile... hmm..."
About Y/n: Crush?
"C-crush? I don't... uhm... That's the love thing Miss Lisa was talking about, right? I-is that what I feel for Y/n? Is that why they always make me so happy? Huh... a crush..."
About Y/n
"Y/n? Why so curious? You wouldn't happen to be interested in them, would you? Why am I asking? No reason, just a simple inquiry."
About Y/n: Teasing
"Oh, you've heard about me teasing Y/n? It's nothing malicious, I just like the look on their face when they get mad, it's just so cute how they puff out their cheeks... and if I get them angry enough, their face turns red. I'm rather fond of that expression of theirs."
About Y/n: Crush?
"You simply must be imagining things. Now I do believe these questions of yours are done. I'll be going now."
About Y/n
"Y/n? Oh they're great, if only I could spend more time with them... I wonder if they'd go get coffee with me... or maybe I could ask them to go on a picnic? Huh? Oh, sorry, I forgot you were here."
About Y/n: Feedback
"Y/n talks to me about my designs sometimes; they always have good feedback. I highly regard their opinion, even when architecture isn't involved. I've relied on them in the past for their judgment; I hope they'd feel comfortable doing the same with me..."
About Y/n: Crush?
"Ahahaha, I- uh, I suppose you could say... gah... not rea- or, actually... uhm............................ d-don't say anything about this to them... okay?"
Zhongli normally isn’t one for PDA. But when people question his relationship with you, he can certainly adapt.
The day is pleasant and there are few responsibilities that require tending to, so it’s perfect for some leisure. Zhongli suggests taking you out to a lovely new sweets shop that’s opened up near your home, and thus the afternoon quietly saunters by at a cozy outdoor table while savoring some lovely almond jelly and dragon’s beard candy.
It should be uneventful, but Zhongli’s keen hearing picks up on something rather interesting from the table behind him. A perfunctory glance reveals two young people, perhaps tired adventurers guessing by their sun-kissed skin and frazzled appearances, here to recuperate.
“That Mr. Zhongli sure is handsome,” sighs one of them, all moony. “Even the way he eats is so dignified. The kind of man you’d proudly bring home to your parents.”
“Oh, I agree. I haven’t been in this city long, but I can say for sure everyone loves him. He’s super friendly, too!”
“That person sitting across from him—that a friend or a lover? You can be honest and it won’t hurt my feelings, I promise.”
“Oh, I don’t think you have to worry about them. It’d be a miracle for a man like Zhongli to be single, but it doesn’t look like they’re an item,” the other one comments. “They don’t seem to be doing stereotypical couple-y things, after all. I don’t see them, like, handsy with each other. Get what I mean? Seems like the kinda congeniality you’d show a coworker you’re being nice to for brownie points.”
“So you’re saying there’s a chance?” the former whispers excitedly. “D’you think I can ask Mr. Zhongli out when I catch him alone?”
Zhongli’s eyebrows rise ever so slightly. Why, he had never reason to believe anyone would view his relationship with you as platonic. But if they are basing it on a lack of customary outward gestures, then…
He gets up without a word and crosses to the other side of the table, seating himself directly beside you.
“Oh?” You stop mid-scoop of your jelly and gaze at him. “What’s up, Li?”
You think he’s about to tell you something serious, but his face only breaks into a smile. “Allow me,” he says warmly, taking the spoon from you. With practiced care, he digs into the supple jelly and holds the spoon out to your mouth.
You eat without question, but as you do, Zhongli pats your head and supplements it with a kiss to your forehead, his smile unwavering. “My darling.”
“H-huh?” Shyness creeps up your veins and you turn your face away, but Zhongli gently hooks a finger under your chin.
“Ah ah,” he chides softly, “let me see your cute face.”
Also, is it just you, or is he speaking a little louder than usual?
He feeds you several spoonfuls more of the stuff, all while you’re steeped in confusion and fluster. He pats your head after each bite, beaming all the while, and after a few minutes of—well, whatever has come over him, you ask, “Aren’t you going to have the jelly yourself? It’s almost gone…”
“Ah, but you see,” Zhongli says silkily, running his gloved thumb over your lower lip, “it shall taste sweetest from your mouth.”
He kisses you before you can say anything, a firm and divine little kiss that’s over in a second, but you could have sworn you heard the clatter of silverware somewhere nearby. No matter, you’re too dazed to think of anything else.
You blink dumbly at him, the god as composed as ever. “O-oh my…” At this, he merely chuckles and pinches your cheek.
After you two are finished eating, he stands up and holds his hand out to you. “Well then, my dearest gem, shall we stroll about the gardens for a bit? I do wish to show you the new blooms that have graced the green—though none shall compare to your own beauty, I believe.”
You’re still stunned, but you comply. As you two leave, you pass by a table where a poor adventurer seems to be sobbing into their plate of red bean buns.
in which, lohen has a hard time coming to terms with 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.
in which, after years of inhabiting lohen's lonely dreams, you finally return to mondstadt. he finds himself overflowing with joy and relief—until he realises you brought a friend, one you were very close with; one he now deemed his greatest rival.
part two to paper dandelion! but this works as standalone too (i think?)
contents. lohen x gn!reader, childhood friends + reunion, happy ending, fluff, crack (kinda), angst, lohen story quest spoilers, (possibly) suggestive, thoma's your close friend, lots and lotssss of jealousy and he's kinda pathetic but it's ok, jokes about killing people/kys, mentions of gore (? offering seppuku as an apology but not actually doing it), swearing, alcohol and getting drunk, mentions of poisoning, lohen jumping to conclusions, doesn't follow genshin timeline/events, no beta we die like adorno
thank you for everyone's patience! much love to you all :)
tags: @swivi, @pjselee, @danielapuppy41, @sksjdkksjsjsh
Despite a considerable amount of time passing since the treacherous Nod Krai expedition, Lohen found himself unable to adapt to the amiable streets of Mondstadt again.
Mondstadt City was dreadfully uncomfortable. It lacked the Favonius Keep's prerequisite of strength and constant vigilance, and the thrill which accompanied. Mondstadt was pathetic in comparison to the perils of the Nod Krai and its beasts. The expectation to be alert was no longer, now earning Lohen absentminded comments to 'relax' and resurfacing rumours of his insanity.
His colleagues earnt shrivelled up expressions of disgust, a violent shudder would pounce on his spine whenever he saw how relaxed they were, drinking their hearts out 'til midnight and puking out on the streets.
(If getting wasted was so necessary, at least remain somewhat competent—Lohen counted twelve opportunities for Gunther to get killed as he stumbled away from the Angel's Share the other night; he should've been grateful it was Lohen judging him, and not a member of the Fatui.)
Human life was fragile, it expired early and death pounced on the nearest person without mercy, and never took breaks, thus, neither should humans.
Today, was no exception to Lohen's discomfort.
He arrived to work late—as always, greeting Mika on his way to the Grandmaster's Office with a lazy wave before slouching into his seat, where an obscene stack of paperwork awaited him. The quill between his fingers was abnormally heavy, and Varka's gaze wouldn't leave him.
"Y'know. You don't have to stare me down that hard."
He scoffed, crossing his arms. "Brat. Who's the one who shortened your confinement?"
For once, Lohen kept his mouth shut, deciding the Grandmaster deserved his best behaviour. It was the least he could do
Solitary confinement, you managed to make tolerable. He wrote of everything to you, from details of his Nod Krai expedition to Adorno's passing and his punishment, scrawling away to process what happened, and to pass the time. Though his solitude remained true, writing to you was essentially the same as company. Day melted into night when he thought of you. He had to regularly call for more paper, only when his words to you reached a length rivaling the novellas of the Favonius Library, Varka convinced Jean to mitigate his punishment. On the basis of his good behaviour, he argued that he deserved the privacy to mourn Adorno, and mail his letter to you. Lohen was free to return home and live normally, at the expense of strict supervision and paperwork during his hours.
(You remained to be a blessing. First, giving Lohen the best childhood and teenage years, and now you were bailing him out of punishment, without even being in the nation.)
Lohen missed you, a lot. Absurdly so. Mountains and oceans apart, you were in Inazuma, where he hoped you felt the same.
Six years was too long. In the first year, he went strong, told himself that you'd be back in no time and that letters were sufficient. By the second, he was going even more insane than he already was, actively searching out ruin guards to bully at Stormbearer Mountains in the dead of night as stress relief.
He wanted to touch you, feel your skin against his and to listen to you rant and laugh—a melody that no choir could ever recreate. He wanted to pinch your cheeks again and watch them redden. He missed how you'd cling onto him whenever you got scared, and he wished he was there for every adversity you were facing over there. He wished he could watch how much happier you were becoming with his open two eyes, instead of reading it with months delayed.
Lohen wanted you. Not your letters. Those wouldn't come sleep over when the nightmares became too much, nor bandage his injuries when they were placed so awkwardly. They capture only your handwriting and nothing else. He would’ve forgotten your voice long ago, had he not thought about you constantly, reciting memories like prayer.
Confinement to letters wouldn't be so bad if he didn't have to wait months for mail to arrive. Letters only satiated so much. And they were volatile—who knows if the mailman would drop either one of your letters, or if storm strikes down the ship it sails on. Only Barbatos himself would know of what happens to them.
(With every victory, you came to mind first. Varka and Jean read of it first through paperwork, then word of mouth would inform the rest of the knights. Sometimes it reached the citizens of Mondstadt.
The best Lohen could do was write it for you first, and pretend it was the same as finding you in your favourite spot at the library, or knocking on your window to demand your attention. In his head, you were the first to know because he wanted you to be. It was far better than agreeing with reality.)
After hearing of his complaints, you opted to mailing him a diary, a collection of thoughts and stories you wanted to share with him, organised by date. Inside, you sandwiched a response to the letter he'd send, alongside folded papercraft (known as 'origami', you said). Lohen built a small bookshelf for these, adorning his empty bedroom with your days.
His gaze wandered to the window, surely he could keep his mind preoccupied. There should've been something remotely interesting to watch—the statue of Barbatos stood proud, as always, welcoming all to the open arms of Mondstadt. Towards the bottom was Barbara, serenading a group of people. That stupid, green bard was nearby, and Lohen rolled his eyes and decided it was time to stop looking outside.
His quill hauled itself across the page, leaving the mere date in its trail.
You can do it, I'll wait for you!
Lohen sculpted every drifting thought into an illusion of you, imagining you were there with him, seated on the couch across the room, waiting for him to finish so the two of you could go skip rocks at Cider Lake.
(Back in the day, Adorno would give you guys 'homework', insisting that puzzles were good for your brain. Your logic flowed as seamlessly as your hands, finishing his tasks with ease; Lohen couldn't say the same for himself. Adorno had to give you guys separate worksheets, since you'd simply give the answers to Lohen.)
The room was drained of its sunlight, fading into a soft pink. Every scratch of his quill against the parchment whittled time away. Varka didn't need to snap at him, and
He finds himself connecting his letters. You wrote in cursive ever since you were little, and still did—
Fuck, his concentration was breaking. What he haphazardly glued together were falling apart, shattering into even smaller bits and pieces.
He tried to fall back on his initial tactic, but all he could think of was how different you must've looked by now. You mentioned getting much more exercise. Did you bulk up, or were you the kind to slim down? Maybe you managed to grow a few centimetres, or perhaps you had a tan now? He had no idea what the weather was like over there.
He was unable to conjure an image of you, only wonder and curiosity, and a desperation to see you once more. Questions blurred his vision and hypotheticals presented possibilities without rest. His energy and attention slipped away, leaving him to soak in his pathetic longing.
"Fuuuuuck offff." Lohen slouched onto the table, cheek resting against the cold, polished wood. He entertained the thought of smashing his head into the table until he was out cold, that way, he wouldn't have to do paperwork, nor be forced to cope with the fact that he couldn't see you.
The stupid pile of paperwork was just as prominent, and infuriating, as his inability to focus. Why couldn't you leave him alone?
(Stupid fucking Barbatos. If the god of freedom out of all beings out there couldn't bring you back, he could've at least freed him of this constant craving of you. This was exactly why Lohen hated gods and refused to partake in anything religious)
Then there was the Sakoku Decree too. You insisted the Vision Hunt Decree only targeted Vision wielders, that you were safe and he had nothing to worry about, but Lohen did the exact opposite. A dictator was never honest, a leader that would approve of such policy would not be one fit to protect its people. Those stuck in Inazuma, including you, requested the help of the Knights to return home, though they were fruitless.
Any resemblance of concentration was long gone. It abandoned him the moment he thought of you again, leaving him to spiral.
Varka's heavy footsteps approached him, his large hands sifting through the paperwork Lohen had (somehow) managed to complete successfully. "...not bad. I've never seen you do so much. And your handwriting's neat." Lohen peeled himself off the desk with disheveled hair, and hollow eyes begging Varka for freedom. "You've done enough, I don't like paperwork too. Good improvement."
For a brute that drank like a fish, he was surprisingly thoughtful.
"I'm gonna kill myself."
The Grandmaster chuckled, ruffling the Vice Captain's hair and patting him on the shoulder. "Paperwork does that, kid."
Dusk stained Mondstadt pink. Remains of day bled everywhere, as Lohen walked across stone pavement alongside Varka, watching over children that chased each other by the fountain. The Good Hunter kept many company, its patrons howling with laughter and cheersing obscenely large tankards. His fingers twitched at his sides, missing their skinship with his dagger and lance, while the wind caressed his face.
Doing paperwork was so awful, that Lohen considered getting drunk, calculating whether the vulnerability would be worth the mindless bliss of being wasted—there had to be a reason why everyone in Mondstadt loved beer, and why even the Grandmaster himself had no problem with drinking to his very limits.
"So." He drawled, itching to leave the city and head to Wolvendom to fight something. "Why am I here again?"
"Because you're under supervision. And I need a beer." The man groaned, stretching an arm and scratching his back. "You look like you need a drink."
"A fight, you mean."
Varka slapped him on the back, enough force to almost make him fall over. "Be grateful I didn't make you do my paperwork too, hm? Maybe it's a good thing you didn't become captain. You wouldn't last a day." Before Lohen could retort, something else grabbed Varka's attention. "Be right back—someone looks lost." A finger pointed forwards, Lohen's halflidded eyes didn't bother tracking them as he let out a wordless grunt.
Maybe now was a good chance to run off. And if Varka tried to get him into trouble again, he'd snitch on Varka to Jean for drinking.
He took an analytical glance at Varka, only for his heart to freeze on the spot.
The sun had already set, yet you managed to glow in its absence.
Lohen's feet didn't move, they couldn't—all that went through his head was relief, leaving him in a stupor.
The world went silent, all that was nonessential melted into nothingness. What remained was you, with wide eyes marveled by your home city again.
You. Here. In Mondstadt. Where Lohen was.
You didn't look so different, contrary to all the different theories he had conjured in his curious boredom. You must've lost a bit of weight from travelling so much, but you looked stronger overall. Your smile was bright, as always, only this time it made Lohen choke on his own spit, and question if he had really lost it.
The Vice Captain of the Fifth Company does not cry. However, he'd make an exception for you.
His body finally awoke, and he took a step towards you. And another. Until he could hear you.
You were looking up at Varka, a bit unsettled by the height difference, but friendly nonetheless. "Oh—I'm from here, it's just been a long time. I haven't spoken the language in a while too. I might be lost..."
Lohen didn't even get to say hi, before you pounced on him.
"Oh my god—" Your voice hitched, on the brink of crumbling into tears. "I missed you so much."
Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist and he squirmed—the closest to hugging he ever did was wrestling new recruits, who could never lay a hand on him.
(But his arms reciprocated, carefully feeling your back as he held onto you. It felt harder than before, your working out must've paid off. The muscle was warm, even through your clothes and his gloves.)
He still couldn't speak. No words would come out, immobilised by his shock. All he did was nuzzle his chin into your shoulder and rediscover your warmth.
"Ahem." Varka cleared his throat, immediately pulling you out of your hug. You scrambled to stand straight, glowing a furious red while muttering out apologies. Varka mirrored your words, saying that he hates to ruin your moment.
(Stupid old man. Lohen wasn't nearly as big as enough to throw him into the fountain, unfortunately. He was going to up his dosage of poison next time. He'll spit in his next beer while he's at it, too.)
As if he wasn't going through every emotion he yearned for, Lohen deadpanned, droning at his boss. "Yeah?"
"You guys...friends?"
You answered first. "Yup! I haven't seen him since before I left."
Lohen thought that was sufficient for his question. "You're back...how—? The decree—you never said anything about returning."
Joy scrunched your face. "It ended a while back. I wanted to surprise you, so I didn't write about it."
(Lohen was young, and very much in great shape, but he thought shock was going to force his heartbeat to a halt. He now owes Barbatos for every time he cussed him out bitterly in his head.)
"You're back..." He repeated.
"I am!"
Besides you, Varka cocked a brow. "Decree? You mean Inazuma?"
You nodded. And Varka went pale. He took a step closer to you.
"You must've been scared. Being trapped in the country. I heard about everything that happened over there." Varka was solemn, regret clouded his face and his voice went dry.
You shook your head. "Things have gotten better over there. It feels normal again." There wasn't a sign of dishonesty, but Varka sank down to a knee regardless, hand over his chest.
"I'm sorry we couldn't do anything. Even though it's our role as knights to protect the people of Mondstadt, we couldn't save you guys. As Grandmaster, I failed you all."
He must've been referring to all the letters that were sent, from merchants to separated family members, asking for help and some sort of intervention.
(Lohen used to press his ear against Varka’s door, picking up bits and pieces of his discussions with Jean on what to do, though now wasn't the time to admit that.)
You were flustered at the chivalrous act, frantically glancing around at the stares you were receiving. "It's not your fault—the shogun and her people aren't fond of foreigners. Please don't kneel—"
Lohen rolled his eyes and tapped Varka's calf, bordering on a kick. "You heard 'em. You're embarrassing us."
Now flustered, Varka stood, rubbing the back of his head. "I still feel bad. Adorno was upset when he found out what happened. He even considered sailing all the way there to negotiate on our behalf."
(Lohen remembers that. When he came running to Adorno to lament about the news, the man was equally as heartbroken. While Lohen panicked, Adorno was already planning to use his retirement funds for an expedition there.)
Your eyes lit up. "Speaking of Adorno—how has he been?"
Lohen's throat closed up, before glancing at Varka.
Adorno's grave was still clean from last time he stopped by. That was good.
The cecilia was beginning to wilt, a light brown began permeating its white petals. He's surprised the wind hadn't blown it away—maybe Barbatos was good for something after all.
The two of you were behind the Cathedral, Adorno's final resting place where many lay peacefully. Daylight was no more, and the cold bit at his face.
His gaze trailed over to you, where you were frozen in the evening, staring at the stone cross. "I wrote about it to you. You just got here before it could arrive."
You said nothing in response, blinking slower than usual.
He sucked in a sharp breath of air. "Do not stand by my grave and cry. My life, I gave to wipe tears dry." Lohen recited Adorno's final words, the last wish he made before his passing. He took a step closer, too apprehensive to dare touch you yet. "There's no need to be sad. It was painless, and peaceful. He was gettin' old, too."
Adorno, in bed, life and colour long gone from his face. Despite tethering on the borders of life and death, his wrinkled hands were abnormally warm, far more than the campsites of their expedition. Lohen's eyes burnt and his nose felt funny, but he subsided it for the sake of his last wish.
"But. If you need to cry, go ahead. I won't tell him." Lohen's hand rested on the small of your back. "We can go around the corner for a bit. And come back. O–Or I can give you some time alone if you need—?"
"—no. I'll stay." You scrunched your nose and blinked hard, but you didn't cry. "It's been too long."
So you sat down, and Lohen joined you.
"It was his health, wasn't it? You said he was getting worse a while back. 'm surprised he lived for that long." You murmured, squinting at the date of birth and death. "He only passed recently."
Lohen prepared himself to tell the whole story. His gloves felt uncomfortably stuffy before he told you everything.
By the end of it, your eyes were wide as saucers, bewildered at it all.
"Yeah." He wasn't proud of it, but it felt worse admitting it to you, out of all people. Had you been there at the time, you would've told someone immediately, out of pure concern for everyone's wellbeing. "I wrote it all down for you during my solitary confinement. Haven't even seen Theodore since then. He probably got longer than me."
(He should pay a visit, he thought to himself. Though Theodore was the main instigator, without Lohen, he wouldn't have made it that far. He wonders how he's been doing.)
You, were still processing everything. "So you and Theodore...injected Adorno with Ursa's flesh...the same stuff that we were supposed to be experimented on for?”
Lohen nodded.
"And you were the test subject?"
"Yeah."
"Are you stupid? Why would you willingly do that to yourself?"
You hit him in the shoulder, with a new kind of strength you didn't have last time he met you. "I know—I don't feel good about it either. I was desperate, and y'know, I thought it'd make me stronger, since Ursa's a dragon and all, and whatever. But yeah. It was stupid. I don't really regret it, though. Got to talk to Adorno for a bit longer, and the whole thing helped me accept I was weak.”
He stared at his outstretched palm, where he had pierced with his dagger. Ursa's screams echoed in his skull, and he squeezed his eyelids tight to ignore it. She was dormant, but his fears weren't. At the end of the day, he was nothing more than a mortal.
You nudged him. "I don't think you're weak. Acknowledging it makes you stronger than most people. And I don't think you were wrong for wanting Adorno to live longer."
Lohen shrugged. "I'm only strong among the weak. I'm nothing compared to the people I've met." Racher of Solnari. The Honorary Knight. Even Varka, the Grandmaster—those who belonged in fairytales and legends to be passed down from generation to generation. They all existed in a realm separate to Lohen's, a random boy who almost fell victim to a harbinger. "I'll get there. Someday. Just not today. I won't do anything like that again, old man."
(Of course, the grave did not respond. But he imagines Adorno ruffling his hair and telling him he was proud of Lohen.)
As long as he didn't lose sight of his goals, nor himself. Lohen had no need for power he couldn't control, for it wouldn't be known as power anymore—only poison.
You agreed with a hum. "You better not. You can't get stronger if you're dead."
Lohen let out a dry chuckle, then silence spoke next.
The wind got colder, though gentle, the grass danced alongside it. Fireflies paid a visit, some fascinated by the gravestones that stood tall, others preferred the flowers gifted to them. Day was no longer, aside from the dainty lights of streetlamps standing guard and the lantern sitting nearby, there was no light.
"Your turn." Lohen nudged you.
"What?"
"Tell him all about Inazuma. He wants to know how you've been doing. This time from you, and not the letters you sent over."
(Lohen never shut up about you, Adorno was the closest thing to a father for him, so naturally, he endured the most of his rambling. You'd write him something as simple as "I love sashimi" and Lohen managed to turn it into an essay's worth of conversation, pondering to Adorno on how he could prepare some as a gift to your return, or marveling at how the people of Inazuma ate fish raw, commending their bravery and immune systems.
Adorno often joked that you wouldn't be able to tell him anything about your time away, since he'd have already heard it from Lohen too.)
"You don't have to say it out loud. I just say it in my head if I don't want someone else to hear." He clarified. "Or you can pay another visit next time, if y'know, you need time to process?"
You shook your head. "I'm alright—I just don't know where to start."
"Wherever you want."
You took a deep breath, Lohen noticed the ever so slight tremble. "Hi Adorno. Long time no see." He leaned back on his palms, watching you tell your story. "I've gotten a lot better. Like really better, the psychologist I was seeing was actually a youkai. It's a kind of spirit from Inazuma and..."
...you told Adorno of Yumemizuki Mizuki, the dream eating tapir, and your psychologist, whom you held a world of gratitude for. You shared your progress, from learning to open up about your past to no longer having nightmares.
The story trailed to your job. It started as Mizuki providing you work at her bathhouse, a role where you prepared their snacks and meals for her clients. It was life-changing, as you described it. You let Adorno know that he didn't have to worry for your future, the job had given you the confidence to pursue culinary school, and you'd been financially stable by yourself ever since. Your career had given you a sense of direction, and you finally felt you belonged in the world.
"Having money's a lot of fun, to be honest. I'm glad I could finally do something for my parents with it."
Your words were soft, yet it strangled Lohen violently.
It was a long time ago, but there was a time where you cried more often than you smiled. Regrettably, you had argued over it. Multiple times.
I hate being so useless. I wish I wasn't a burden to everyone.
The fuck are you talking about? Lohen usually snapped, a tone he wished remained foreign to you. If you need money I'll give it to you. Stop beating yourself up over a stupid job. It wasn't worth your time if everyone there picked on you, was it? Your boss was a piece of shit anyways.
Nausea hit him in a violent wave. He always apologised without fail and you talked things out properly, but he knows he shouldn't lose control. Not towards the people he loves.
"...now that the Sakoku Decree's lifted, I'm back here." You concluded, look back at Adorno with a smile. "I'm probably going to...Lohen? Are you crying?"
Only then, did Lohen notice the wetness on his cheeks.
"No—" He lifted his half cape to conceal his face, recompose himself, and blame it on his dandelion allergy that he'd killed off years ago, but you were faster, prying his wrists away.
Your eyelids fluttered, as if you were the one crying instead. "Is it Adorno...?" You let his wrists go and crawled closer, soft thumbs wiping his tears away.
He shook his head, vision blurring with more tears. "It's yo—you, you're so happy now. And I dunno—I just feel relieved." His sinuses began to clog. "I thought of every time you cried and talked badly about yourself. And then I thought about whenever I lost my temper at you. And now I feel like shit. " His voice crumbled to nothing but weak sobbing. Lohen aggressively rubbed his eyes, as if he could rid of his tears that way.
Your last night in Mondstadt, six years ago, flashed in his head. Your posture was slumped, a contrast to how you stood tall today. He didn’t have to work for a full smile from you, it replaced the half-assed one you donned to cover up your feelings.
(Lohen wasn't sure what was fluttering in his stomach. Pride? Relief? A hybrid of both? He knew you were far more capable than you deemed yourself to be, so he wasn't sure why he was getting so emotional.)
His tears died down, and you wiped each and every one of them, until they were no more. Your hands remained on his cheeks, holding them, before giving them a gentle pinch.
"Nmmph?"
"Your skin's so soft!" You pinched again, this time tugging on his cheeks. "You really haven't changed. You're just a bigger version of your little self."
(Lohen would've smited anyone else who tried to touch him like this, or made such a patronising comment about him. And although you were the sole exception, he'd also never admit he likes being coddled like this.)
"You're sooo cute." You let go of his cheeks, leaving him feeling bare. Your skin was no longer on his, but his face remained warm. "It's okay though. I told you, I'd be back as a happier person."
He nodded, sick of how he sounded when he spoke. The quiver in his voice was nothing short of embarrassing and pathetic. He watched you shiver, hugging your knees tighter for any sort of comfort.
Lohen sniffled. "You're cold. Sorry, not tryna change the topic or anything. But you're shaking."
The moment you became aware of it, it seemed to intensify. "A bit. It rained a lot on the way here."
He sighed, huddling closer to wrap his cloak around you. "You should've rested first then, before doing anything."
"Probably." You coughed a couple times, pressing closer to him. "I got too excited though. I'll just eat a bunch of ginger."
Lohen huffed, guiding you to stand up. "I'm not going anywhere, neither is Adorno. Let's get you home."
You didn't resist, dusting off your knees. "Alright, alright—see you Adorno." You gave the grave one last stare. "And thank you for everything. Without you, today wouldn't have existed for me. For us."
A solemn nod from Lohen, and he silently agreed.
As you walked into the night, you gasped, peering down at the city before walking down the cobblestone stairs. “It’s so pretty. Look at all the lights from everyone’s house—oooh, and the stars!”
Lohen watched you smile. “Yeah. It’s beautiful. Very.”
“I missed Mondstadt.” You declared, jumping down each step one at a time.
(And Lohen missed you. Dearly so.)
“Mondstadt missed you too.” He murmured, a gloved hand reaching out for you, just in case you tripped or hurt yourself.
Together, you walked down the empty streets of Mondstadt City. The working week hadn't ended yet, leaving the city quiet and desolate, Lohen preferred this over seeing drunk men cheer and trip over their own feet.
"Where are you staying?"
(Though he appreciates your surprise return, he wishes you would've told him. Not only he thought he was having a heart attack, but he wanted to let you stay at his place—show off the fruits of his efforts and be the best host he could.
His shock died down, and now all he could think of was his confession to you. The moment he sends you back to your place, he was going to launch into frenzied brainstorming.)
"I'm renting a place at the moment."
His paranoia flared, questioning whose property it was. Shady landlords always targeted foreigners. Obviously, you weren’t one, but anyone could easily treat you as one after how long you were gone for.
But he didn't want to intrude. You’re smart enough to be cautious of scammers. "You could've stayed in my place. I moved into a bigger house since you left." He says, as if he hadn't told you this over parchment and ink already.
You chuckled, a tune he was addicted to. "I know, but I told you, I wanted this to be a surprise. The rent isn't too bad."
Maybe it was better that you weren't staying at his place. It gave Lohen better opportunity to figure out how he wanted to declare his love. It'd be awful if you walked into his preparations.
"Whatever you say."
Past the Good Hunter you turned, and there it was. You pointed to a building, it wasn't anything grand, but felt excessive for only one person to live in.
"We're here. Thanks again for walking me home." You grinned before sneezing, immediately covering your nose with your palm. The other hand fumbled through a pocket for a tissue.
"Geez—I thought you said your cold wasn't that bad?"
Before Lohen could speak, another voice reached for you.
The door to your house was open, and out came a man. He was tall, short, blond hair propped up by a black hairband. He donned a red jacket, over a tight, black shirt decorated by a silver dog tag.
Down the stairs he hurried, to check up on you and nag about your health.
Who the fuck is this?
After blowing your nose properly, you recomposed yourself, standing straight. "Sorry—I didn't think I'd be out this late." You looked back at Lohen. "Right. Lohen, this is Thoma." You gestured to the man besides you, who waved politely at Lohen, resembling a carefree dog. "Thoma, this is Lohen."
What the fuck is Thoma?
Despite being a man of quick decisions and logic, Lohen had little coherency in his thoughts.
"Nice to meet you, Lohen!" Thoma reached a hand out, and Lohen took far too long to reciprocate with his own. "Thanks for walking y/n home."
Were you seeing someone? This guy?
"Uh—yeah, no worries. Anytime."
No, he's jumping to conclusions. Friends travel and live together—
An aggressive shade of red dusted over your cheeks, reaching even your ears. "I'll see you soon. Thanks again." You quickly turned away from Lohen, ushering Thoma inside, muttering something about being cold.
With a final wave, you were inside. Through the window, he could see your blurry figures talk, and muffled laughter slipped out.
Lohen's expertise was vast, but was not applicable to romance in the slightest. However, everyone knows that a blush that deep had to indicate something, a crush, possibly even love, considering how far you had traveled together.
Paralysed and cold, he stood there, a storm of frantic thought brewing in his head. There's no way you guys were dating, right? You would've told him if someone had asked you out, or if you had a crush in the works. But what if this was another surprise?
For a brief moment, he pictured you guys on a date, and was met with immediate nausea.
(He was going to kill "Thoma", or whatever his name was, if it was the last thing he'd do.)
Since then, he was oddly provoked by Thoma, despite his polite demeanour and warmth.
When he returned home, he laid in bed and tried to rationalise the situation.
You. "Thoma". Dating?
Oh my god—what if you were married? Lohen didn't notice any rings on you, but you guys were reaching that age. You could've been intending on it, or maybe you packed your engagement ring away, all that’s valuable doesn’t belong in the open.
He buried his face into a nearby pillow,
It's not like you've ever loved him back that way, nor did you vow to remain single forever (not that it'd even matter—you're allowed to change your mind whenever), but he felt a sliver of betrayal. If he was going to get rejected, he at least wanted to stand a good chance, rather than being nations away.
Lohen dismissed the thought, reminding himself to simply ask next time he saw you before preparing to go to sleep.
The next morning at work, he earned nothing short of concern and judgement.
"What even happened to you?" Eula commented, poking Lohen's head. His cheek was pressed up against the wooden table, neglected paperwork somewhere off to the side and his quill laid just as dead.
He heard Amber come over, too. "Dunno. He looked awful when he got here, then he kinda just gave up after the Grandmaster went out for lunch. Lohennn, are you alright?"
"Is traveling from nation to nation and living with each other a couple's thing to do?"
The two women paused. Amber spoke first. "I guess so...?"
Lohen's fist pounded the table. "I'm gonna kill that bastard."
With a worried, 'let's give him some time', Eula guided Amber away.
He finally sat up, eyelids fighting for their life to remain open. All he did was spiral instead of sleep, conjuring up all sorts of wacky possibilities. It tortured him until morning, and skipping work wasn't a luxury either, considering how he was already in trouble.
He slouched again, this time his chin resting on his forearms. He closed his eyes, hoping for a quick power nap before Varka could yell at him.
Eula came into the room again, heavy boots stomping and interrupting his attempted nap. He didn't react, until she knocked aggressively on the table.
"Fuck…I was trying to slee—"
From behind Eula you peered at him, an awkward smile plastered on your face.
'You have a visitor.' She said, then she turned to you. "Sorry about him. He hates paperwork."
He was tempted to interject, insisting that he wasn't that bad with paperwork, it was stupid Thoma's fault. All he did was tiredly squint, and burn with shame.
"Should I...come back another time? Work seems hectic."
He shook his head, excessively, leaving his bangs in his face. "No—what's up?" Frantic, he adjusted them,
"I just...wanted to see you. And I have something I need to show you."
(It wasn't an engagement ring, was it?)
Lohen's gaze flitted around before returning to you. If he concentrated hard enough and made the most of his desperation, he'd get all this paperwork done. Hopefully soon. "Okay. Yeah that's fine. Just give me a bit more time, I'll be done soon."
The throbbing in his temples disagreed with him.
"Your library's so nice, I had a fun time talking to Lisa."
Lohen himself was impressed with his own performance. He powered through paperwork, a perfect balance of speed, and care, as to avoid being scolded and ordered to redo it all from scratch.
The fresh air helped out a bit, it woke him up and forced his eyes to stay alert. Being so openly weak was stressing him out, even with the confines of Mondstadt City and its walls, he couldn't help but worry about whether he'd be able to defend the two of you if anything happened.
"Lisa? Yeah she's alright..." He rubbed his eye, fervently.
Your hand clasped around his wrist. "You'll hurt your eye if you do that...did you not sleep enough?"
Not at all, actually. "Somethin' like that." His eye begged to be scratched again, but he held back for your sake. "Had...things on my mind."
You released him and nodded slowly. "Is being a knight that hard?"
(Being a knight was fine. Possibly having an unrequited love was far worse and nothing in comparison.)
He made an incoherent noise, before changing the topic. "Where are we going?"
"Back to mine." You smiled, and the exhaustion clinging onto his eyelid was beginning to fade. "I have stuff for you."
Lohen's face soured. Not at the thought of you, nor whatever you wanted to show him, but at Thoma. Lohen thinks he's going to throw up if he has to think about you two again.
"Wouldn't...Thoma be upset? Isn't he staying there as well? Don’t wanna intrude on you guys."
You shook your head. "He's visiting his mother today. Plus, he's a really sweet person, I'm sure you'd like him too.”
Lohen thinks not. "Are you guys like...friends?"
A pause filled the air. "I guess you could call it that. We met at culinary school."
(So are you dating or not? What kind of answer was that?)
Lohen nodded. He decided to take what he could get, and appreciate that he wouldn't have to see you and Thoma together, whatever your relationship was. He can worry about Thoma when he’s not sleep deprived and barely holding himself up. As you walked the familiar route from yesterday together, he found himself wincing whenever sunlight came too close for his liking, another predicament, alongside his brooding.
‘Oh yeah. I forgot to ask, but how are your parents doing?”
Lohen shrugged.
“Still not talking to them?”
“Yup.” He had no need for them or their ways. The most he did was pay a visit on their birthdays, dropping off a gift and a letter. He popped by on holidays, too, limiting conversation to basic greetings. You questioned it no further, just the way Lohen liked it—it was refreshing for someone to accept the way he lived, rather than yapping on about the importance of family and blood. “Yours?”
“They’re good. Turns out they prefer Inazuma far more than here.”
Lohen liked your parents, it was a shame they didn’t come with you. You inherited your kindness from your mother, who’d always encourage Lohen to come over for a meal whenever, and you had the same understanding as your father. Lohen never confided to him with his familial issues, yet he provided more insight on his situations than anyone else. He wished he could say hi again.
“What about you?” You haven’t told him exactly what you were doing here. “Are you just visiting?”
“Kind of? I’m planning to stay here for a bit. I don’t have a concrete plan.” You hummed, as the wind fluffed up your hair. “Might travel around, now that I’m not in the middle of nowhere.”
Good. That granted him a decent amount of time to confess to you.
“Well, let me know when you figure it out. I want to hear all about it.”
The house you were staying in came into view, but the sound of crying snapped your neck towards it. “What happened?”
Lohen scanned the vicinity, nearby was a child, a young boy, wailing and clutching at his bloodied knee. You wasted no time, rushing to his side.
“Are you okay?”
The kid cried some more.
Lohen joined you two. “Can you walk, kid?”
His tears didn’t stop, but he planted his small hands against your shoulders and pushed himself with a heave, biting his lip and gluing his eyes shut.
The kid turned to Lohen and nodded.
You inspected the graze. It appeared fine, with no visible dirt, and it was relatively shallow. “Well done. That must’ve hurt a lot, hm?”
He nodded. “It still does…”
With a subtle frown, you dug through your pockets, bringing out a small bag. “Want some candy? It’ll make you feel better.”
(Lohen wanted to ask for one too, but he refrained.)
As you tugged the pouch open, the kid deadpanned. “Mummy said I shouldn’t accept candy from strangers.”
Lohen couldn’t help but snicker, turning his face away to hide his amusement. “Smart kid—” He placed a hand on his back. “Mummy and Daddy are raising you right, hm?”
The kid stared back with judgement. Now it was your turn to laugh.
(Who knew kids were so unfiltered? Lohen knew kids were difficult, but looking back, he must’ve been a nightmare for every adult in the vicinity.)
“Sage—I told you not to run.”
The woman’s voice almost echoed across the city, frantic and booming. The boy reacted immediately, hobbling into her arms and resuming his crying. You both stood up as well.
“C’mon, what do you say to the nice couple?” She urged him to say thank you, and the boy reluctantly turned around, hands still clinging onto her clothes. “Thank you for looking out for him…oh, you must be a knight?”
She looked Lohen up and down, he saluted in response. “Yes. Your son should be fine, as long as you clean and bandage it. It doesn’t appear to be serious.” It felt wrong, performing his formalities in front of you. He reserved this tone for diplomatic meetings, where pissing off an official could ruin an entire agreement, not the gentle streets of Mondstadt City, where you could speak to anyone as if they were close friends.
The woman sighed, and thanked you as well. “You guys would make wonderful parents.”
Your eyes grew wide. “P–parents?”
“Yeah.” She repeated, as if it were common sense. “Aren’t you a couple?”
(See? Even the citizens of Mondstadt knew you two would be a great pair. Fuck you, Thoma.)
You corrected her with a stutter and flustered cheeks. “N–no ma’am.”
She was unbothered by it, and seemingly unconvinced as well. “Oh. What a shame, you seem to be close to each other.” With a final goodbye, she walked away with her son, excusing herself with needing to prepare dinner early tonight.
Together, you watched them return home. “Aw. I wanted him to taste test my candy.” The pouch laid in your hands and you frowned. “I didn’t know kids were so…sassy, nowadays.”
Giddy from the woman’s assumption, Lohen leaned closer. “I’m always here. I’ll eat anything and everything.” A random kid wouldn’t appreciate it as much as him, anyways. Those would eat anything as long as there’s enough colour and sugar.
You smiled. “Of course you will. You can try some after I show you what I planned out for you.”
A grin crept onto his lips. With anticipation akin to a child’s, Lohen followed you into your house like a puppy, overflowing with joy.
When he reached your living room, you stopped him, slipping behind the knight before encasing his eyes with your hands. They were soft, and warm, nothing in comparison to the calluses that inhabited his palms. “You’ll keep it a surprise, right?”
He despised the unpredictable and unknown, but he nodded and his eyelids shut willingly. “Of course.”
By his hand, you led him through the place, until coming to a stop.
“Open.” You requested. Then he obeyed.
Lohen blinked. It was just a living room. A bit bare, but it was a normal living room. There were crates stacked in a corner, presumably the belongings you and Thoma brought to Mondstadt.
He began sweating, wondering if he was just being incredibly dense. “Am I…?
You pointed to the corner, scurrying towards it and grabbing the closest one. “Souvenirs. For you. I probably should’ve considered how you were going to bring it home…”
Souvenirs? Those crates could probably carry every possession to his name.
“Come here—” You ushered him closer, placing the crate on the floor and prying off the lid.
He crouched beside you. “A crate is a lot for souvenirs, isn’t it?”
“Is it too much? These are all for you.”
(Lohen has infiltrated illegal auctions. Embarked on trecherous journey to the lawless nation of Nod Krai. Even went face to face with a sinner of Khaenri’ah. But he’s never felt more lost than right now, at this moment.)
“W—How’s there so much? I thought these were all your things.”
You blinked. “Nope. They’re for you.” You shrugged, beckoning him to look through his gifts by himself. “If something made me think of you, I bought it.”
Inside were an assortment of weapons, alongside bottles of what he assumed to be poison.
“Ah—this stuff’s for work and your training.” You beamed. “A friend of mine, his family specialised in bladesmithing. You said the more weapons you have, the safer you feel.”
“Y–yeah I did but—” He gestured to the stack of crates nearby. “But this is insane—this would’ve cost a fortune.” He remembered your family being middle class, neither struggling nor subjugating financially, but this was an absurd amount for anything.
“It’s over six years! I promise I’ve been working hard, I stayed with family majority of the time anyways.” Your eyes sparkled with promise. “Plus, I wanted to do something nice for you. You never buy yourself anything. I bet you still hardly treat yourself.”
(You were right. Unless it was a necessity or gift for another person, Lohen seldom spent money. It was a waste, considering the Knights funded all equipment, which included most of Lohen’s collection, and he preferred to have a great sum saved up, just in case something ever happened to him.)
“I guess not?” He scratched at his nape. Protecting himself and guaranteeing safety was a good enough “treat” for him. “Dunno what I’m supposed to get for myself, anyways.” He craved the things money couldn’t purchase. Getting Varka off his back, never running out of stamina, you—
“Then let me do it for you. You’ve always worked hard, Mr Captain.”
The title made him stutter and blush. “Vice. I told you, I didn’t get the promotion after what happened.”
But you didn’t care. “Well, Adorno and I think you’re worthy of it. And it’s basically yours since it’s vacant, no?”
(God, he’s getting way too far ahead of himself, but Lohen really wants to propose to you on the spot.)
“I—” For a moment, Lohen thinks to hug you, thank you in his own special way, with affection and his entire being—
“y/n! Do you have someone over?”
Great.
“Yeah—it’s Lohen.”
Thoma’s head popped into the doorway, and he grinned from ear to ear. “Hey. Hi again.” He greeted Lohen, who responded curtly. “What are you guys up to? I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
(Yes, yes you are Thoma. Read the fucking room.)
You patted the crate. “Souvenirs.”
Despite his irritation, Lohen wore a smile as he got up. “Hello again. How’s your mother doing?”
Thoma was caught off guard, glancing towards you. “She’s good, it’s been forever since I got to see her. Thanks for asking.”
“I didn’t expect you to remember that.” You mumbled, pushing off the crate to stand up. “He’s really attentive, isn’t he?”
His smile grew into something genuine in the praise. Thoma nodded along, hardly meeting Lohen’s gaze. “Yeah. Do you have any dinner plans?”
(Fuck. Lohen should’ve asked you to dinner before Thoma could.)
You shook your head, turning to Lohen. “Do you?”
He shook his head back, and internally, he was brimming with pride, celebrating the fact that you immediately turned to him.
Thoma readjusted his jacket. “Then since we’re all together, wanna go for a drink? It’ll be on me. I’ve hardly spoken to your friend yet.”
You immediately shook your head. “Lohen doesn’t dri—”
He lied, insisting otherwise. “It's alright. I couldn't possibly decline the kind offer."
And so, Lohen was seated in the Tavern besides you. Conversation of its patrons blended into one big mess, the noise infuriated Lohen, not nearly as much as his drink did.
Alcohol was fucking disgusting, Lohen thought, as he gulped down another ungodly mouthful. He glued his eyelids shut and swallowed, careful not to choke and spill any.
On the way to the Tavern, he watched you two carefully. So far, his theory of you two dating appeared false. There was hardly any physical contact between you two, nor did Thoma seem protective of you (and if Lohen’s assumption was correct, then Thoma was an awful boyfriend—who knows what could happen at night, near a bar where many drunk people were).
Logically, Lohen still stood a chance. However, getting you to like someone like him back, was an entirely new challenge he had to tackle.
Unlike Lohen, you and Thoma were fine, casually sipping without even a flinch. Conversation bounced between you with ease.
“I forgot how different Mondstadt’s beer was.”
“I wasn’t even old enough to drink, last time I was here.” Thoma finished the last of his drink, peering into the glass with an eye. “To be honest, I still prefer sake.”
With your glass to your lips, you chuckled. “Me too. This isn’t too bad, though.”
Lohen picked up his pace, you were finishing up too, he couldn’t fall behind. To find drinking alcohol enjoyable was weird, Varka, or anyone of the knights, had no right to call him insane when they could drink beer as if it were water, and derived pleasure from it.
(His stomach complained and groaned for help, but he kept going. He’ll make himself puke it out his system if needed. Lohen refused to appear weak in front of Thoma, out of all people.)
Another round of beers paid a visit, and Lohen already felt sick at the sight of a full glass.
“So Lohen, I had no idea you were Vice Captain! That’s really impressive.”
(What was that supposed to mean? That he didn’t appear worthy of his position?)
He played it off with a chuckle, thankful that speaking meant he didn’t have to drink. “It was nothing. Just took a few years of work.”
You butted in, protesting. “Liar—what do you mean Vice Captain isn’t a big deal?”
Lohen shrugged. “It’s not like I had to fight for my life for it.”
You huffed, taking another swig. “You still deserve credit.”
“You’re doing much better than me. If anything, hard work should be rewarded.” You were a cook because you dedicated your blood, sweat, and tears to it. Lohen was vice captain because he liked killing shit.
A smirk creased his lips, high off your praise, as he leaned forward to speak to Thoma. ‘What about you, Thoma? What do you do for a living?”
His face was hot and the insides of his mouth didn’t feel like his anymore, but he had to check what sort of guy you were possibly with. He took another large gulp, concealing his disgust with a sigh.
Despite it all, Thoma was unbothered by him. “I’m the housekeeper and Chief Retainer of the Yashiro Commission.” He clarified, proud and bright. “Nothin’ special.”
Damn right. But that was too impolite to say. Lohen kept to himself and nodded. “I see. Any good in a fight?”
You answered before Thoma could. “He actually is—he faced the shogun.”
Lohen choked on his own spit. “What?”
Thoma aggressively shook his head, pink blooming on his cheekbones. “All I did was throw a spear.”
“Oh shut up—you threw it at her and somehow survived.”
“Stop bringing it up already.” But he laughed alongside you, the two of you happily bickered and drank beer.
Lohen doesn’t get what you see in this guy. He took another swig, already adapting to the ugly taste.
Sure, Thoma did have a vision. And he was decently built, his muscles peeked out a bit from his tight top. And he was tall, really tall, but not in the same obnoxious, oversized way as Varka. He had blond, well kept hair and bright, green eyes that resembled green apples and ripe limes sold in the markets of Dornman Po—
Fuck. Now he was just listing all the good things about him. And there were plenty. Lohen himself couldn’t account for all the memories and feelings only you two shared and knew of. Thoma got to be there for you. Lohen was in a completely different continent.
Being blond wasn’t that important, was it? Varka’s blond and he wasn’t even close to marriage, neither was Jean. And it’s not like being short was a bad thing—a super tall partner would be unsettling anyways, wouldn’t it? Lohen had a vision too, and he’d say his physique wasn’t too shabby as well—
“...en? Lohen? Are you okay?”
(Just like how Lohen had to come to terms with his own mortality, he had to come to terms that maybe you weren’t meant to be. He should appreciate he gets to see you, and be within your presence, much like how he needs to acknowledge his human limits.
There was no point in brooding and complaining about Thoma, he’ll probably remain a bit bitter for the rest of time, but he should at least accept that you wanted someone else.)
It hurt, so Lohen drank some more.
His head spun and his face was warm and fuzzy. He rubbed his cheek with his own hand, despite the glove in the way. Even though it acted as a barrier, it felt abnormally warm.
“Lohen?”
He blinked. “I’m fine. I can handle my liquor juuuust fine.” He slurred a bit, but he knew what he was doing, and where he was. He took another gulp. He’ll just get tipsy enough to forget about you and Thoma for a bit. This is why people drank, right? “Something happen? Need me to fight anything?”
Through half lidded eyes, he watched you shake your head. “You seem a bit…drunk?”
He gulped down some more to compensate. “I’m not. You have nothing to worry about.”
You acknowledged it with a hum, and went back to staring at your drink. Lohen wondered why you stopped talking to Thoma—maybe he went to the washroom, or something.
“You never told me you started drinking. I could’ve brought you back some sake.”
Thoma’s absence tempted him. He slouched over, resting his cheek on your shoulder. It was wrong, to snuggle so close with someone else’s lover, but he wanted to do it one last time.
“It’s fine. It tastes like shit, anyways.” He reached for his drink, but you pushed it out of his grasp, and he gave you an indignant look, pale cheeks pouting, round and soft.
“I’m pretty sure you’re very drunk. Drink water first. You need to flush it out your system.” You turned around, finding someone to call for water, but Lohen refused. With an immature whine, his arms wrapped around you, chin nestled into your shoulder.
He could easily kiss you. All he had to do was move forward.
You smelled nice. A scent he couldn’t name, but it was far more pleasant than the colognes and perfumes he’s ever encountered. Something that didn’t fit into existing definition. His eyelids relaxed, and he embraced your proximity.
“Y–you’re drunk—”
“And you’re pretty.”
Lohen pressed even closer, his nose brushing against his neck. He wanted to press a kiss on the flesh, bite a bit, even. He thought to himself, about how badly he wanted to kiss you all over, spoil you with all the affection he could possibly conjure. Maybe leave even a mark or two, bruising you with his love for the rest of the world to see.
(But he held back. It was audacious enough to cling onto someone taken. He needs to pull himself together and apologise before Thoma returns.)
Despite his effrontery, your hand made its way to his head, caressing his hair before patting his back. “Are you alright?”
(He wanted to throw up. Not because of the alcohol.)
“It’s not fair.” Lohen slurred, now burying his face into your shoulder. “You were gone for so long, how was I meant to stand a chance?”
He should’ve scraped up the money and joined you on that boat, and travelled across treacherous seas while by your side. That way, he wouldn’t have to swim in all his desire. Now, he found himself drowning, with no way of reaching the surface again. Lohen’s love filled him up to the brink, from his heart to his lungs, dragging him down to the depths of nothingness.
(Lohen charged at any sort of peril of ease, even back then with six years less of experience. A simple love confession may appear pathetic in comparison to the dangers he faced, but wounds heal and flesh grows back, while a rejection would leave a scar uglier than the ones his skin donned.)
His hand squeezed you even tighter. “I love you—I should’ve told you before you left. Maybe then I would’ve stood a chance against…Thoma.” His words were punctuated by a violent hiccup, it tasted of beer and misery at the back of his throat. “And got to be there for you. All I could do was write letters.” Lohen’s voice broke, almost crumbling into tears. “Do you know how scared I was? What if I somehow forgot your voice, or how you looked…”
Lohen’s face peeled off your shoulder, and his lips daringly inched closer to your ear, though he didn’t go any further. "I know I can't make you love me—” He whined, a pathetic noise, one that not even children could make. “—but I should've found a dandelion instead of tearing apart my letter. Maybe fate wouldn’t have taken you away from me.”
(Pull away, do it now, Lohen told himself. It grew into insistent commands, echoing in his skull. You’re not his. What he was doing was wrong and was only going to make things harder for everyone, especially you. He could barely excuse himself spewing his emotions like this, now was the time to let go. And throw up.)
You weren’t replying. Of course you weren’t. He’ll have to apologise tomorrow, when his head wasn’t spinning and bile wasn’t growing at the back of his throat.
The world faded to black.
For the first time in his entire life, Lohen was mortified at himself.
He carried not an ounce of shame when poisoning Varka’s oversized beers, nor when hunting down and blackmailing Kaeya for a forged signature. Rumours did nothing to him, he did not care for the opinions of others, only freedom reigned his actions and philosophy.
His eyes hadn’t even opened yet, and behind the darkness of his eyelids, all he saw was disgrace. He’d be impressed by how self conscious he was, if it weren’t for the fact that it was you he embarrassed himself in front of—he probably tarnished your reputation too, the one you barely got to rebuild after your return.
But he was remorseful as he was humiliated. You deserved an apology, and so did Thoma, even if he was envious of him. He’d let you beat him to a pulp if needed, if that was what it took to earn a chance of redemption.
“Fuck…” He groaned, pushing himself up. “Everything hurts.”
The sunlight oozing into the windows was blinding, despite being gentle and soft, all it did was make his head throb uncontrollably. His muscles screeched for help, soreness seized his body hostage. Lohen’s head felt too heavy, as if he could collapse at any moment.
He thought about last night, and everything beyond his body began to hurt.
It really wasn't a nightmare. You being in love with someone else.
Lohen cackled to himself, all alone in his bed. He's a fucking idiot, and loser, and should never be in the proximity of alcohol again.
Why was he even surprised? You were perfection and sunlight personified, it was no wonder whenever someone asked you out. If anything, it was Lohen’s fault not considering that during his last goodbye.
But instead, he tore his confession into pieces, for a wish that came true far too late.
“I'm an idiot, aren't I…?” Lohen whispered, to no one in particular.
“I don't think so.”
“What the fuck—?”
You had just walked in with a glass of water. “Sorry. I heard you laughing and realised you were awake.” You approached his bed with a glass of water. “Feeling okay?”
Lohen accepted wordlessly. He wasn't sure what to be embarrassed for, from his unrequited feelings to whatever the hell he was doing earlier, it felt as though he’d done everything possible to make a fool of himself.
‘Good job.” You praised, taking the glass from his hands.
(You were attractive, even when talking to him like a child. Being praised for drinking water seemed absurd, but he wasn't allowed to say that when he was relishing every word.)
Now wasn't the time—he watched you place the glass on his bedside table, as you settled onto his bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. That makes sense.”
Come to think of it, he hardly had any recollection of last night, aside from his shameless antics. It felt worse, not knowing the full extent of his predicament.
He glanced around his house. “How did I get back home?”
“I carried you.”
Lohen didn't remember that.
“Th–thanks. You didn't have to.”
“I didn't have a choice. You were clinging onto me and saying I had to come over.”
He didn't remember that either.
“It was pretty cute, actually. You were really excited to show me your new place. For good reason, too—”
‘I’m so sorry. I–I–I can slit my stomach open for you—that's how they do it in Inazuma, isn’t it?”
(He enjoyed being called cute far too much. Now was not the time for it.)
“No—I mean yes, they do—that's not the point.” Your hand held his, reassuring him with the rhythmic stroke of your thumb. “No one’s mad at you, Lohen. I’m definitely not.”
God, even now, you managed to be kind. Lohen would go insane if someone behaved as ridiculously as he did.
“Yeah but I bet Thoma is—”
“Why would Thoma be mad at you?”
He waved his hands around frantically. “I was hitting on you—I’d be pissed if a guy was all over my lover like that.”
You blinked once. Then twice.
“Thoma and I aren't dating.”
He was so shocked, that relief didn't even pay him a visit. In fact, nothing went through his head.
“Did you think we were together?”
“Y–yeah?”
You were stunned too, mouth hanging open as you processed his words. “Is that why you were one-upping him?”
“I was doing what?” A sharp pang throbs in his head for speaking too loud.
“While you were drunk—you were rambling about how Thoma. You said stuff about tall men being difficult to date and blond people being insanely overrated—”
Lohen snapped, unintentionally. “Stop. I'm gonna die if I hear the rest of that.”
First, his one and only love didn't want him back, then he got wasted over a conclusion he jumped too, and now he was hungover in front of you.
He swallowed. “I still owe you two.” If anything, he’d prefer you to slit his stomach open, or beat him ‘til you were satisfied. Anything over how calm and understanding you were being. “You must’ve been embarrassed.”
You shrugged. “I told you, it was cute. I've never seen you so clingy.”
Another hot, uncomfortable wave of embarrassment washed over him.
He should bring up his feelings now, shouldn't he? Apologise for confessing in such an inappropriate, dramatic way in a public setting. Then he should walk you home and apologise to Thoma while he was at it.
Where should Lohen start? He drafted an apology in his head; about last night, sorry for—
“—I love you too, by the way.”
“The fuck?”
A hand clasped over his mouth and he felt another urge to profusely apologise.
“Last night. You said you loved me.”
He watched you inch closer, his heart racing even more when he felt your warmth in his proximity. “I did say that.”
“Why are you so surprised then?” Your hand holds onto his, abnormally warm compared to his body temperature. “I'm giving you an answer.”
“Wh—are you sure?” Since when were you this ballsy? You used to be so timid and shy, now you were essentially climbing onto him. “I must be going insane.”
“I had six years to think about you while I was gone. Yes, I’m very sure.” You pinched his cheek, gently tugging at the flesh. “See? You're not dreaming.”
Lohen’s mouth hung open, yet no sound came out. He stared at you, and at your thighs that were on top of his, and the pink permeating the apples of your cheek.
(Words were never his thing. Paperwork was pointless when all the information was in his head and made perfect sense to him. He even had a hard time adapting to writing letters, it didn’t sound nearly as nice when it was in ink instead of speech.)
So Lohen pulled you closer. You landed on his chest, his arms clamped around you like a vice.
You yelped, peering back up at him. “Lohen?”
His fingertips played with the back of your shirt. “May I?”
“Sure but what are you—” A shaky gasp interrupted your question, and the noise drove Lohen insane. “Cold—your hands are so cold—what are you doing?”
"Need to feel you more—" His hands massaged the soft flesh, he was right, you’d gained quite a bit of muscle since you left. His hands paused and his hollow eyes held something akin to sorrow. “Fuck. Do you know how upset I was? I–I–I was worried you were engaged.
You snorted, pinching his cheek again. “Engaged? Why would I be engaged with Thoma, when all I wanted was here in Mondstadt?”
Lohen’s gaze drifted away. “You were blushing.”
“Hm?”
“You were blushing around him. When I dropped you off. So I thought you had a thing going on.”
This time, you burst into laughter. Normally, he’d enjoy how it sounds, but right now, all it did was fuel his embarrassment. He withdrew his hands from your back and rubbed his eyes as you composed yourself. “Sorry—that was mean. Did it not occur to you that I was flustered because of you?”
Lohen frowned and scoffed. “You didn’t even look at me when I dropped you off.”
You rolled over, settling next to him. “Really? I probably got embarrassed. I told Thoma all about you, y’know? Since like...the beginning of our friendship? He kept telling me to confess to you during the trip here. He even made a whole gameplan for me. Y’know he only invited us to dinner to try to get us alone. He slipped away after you got tipsy.”
(Huh. Maybe Thoma was a good guy, after all. Not only does he owe him an apology, but a massive thank you, as well.)
“So. There’s no doubt that you’re the one I want, okay? It was like that long before I left Mondstadt.”
Weakly, he nodded, finally able to feel relief. “Okay.”
You liked him back, no, loved him back. For over six years, too.
Lohen's heartbeat raced, to the point he began to worry about it bursting out of his chest. Unable to cope with all the emotions eating away at it and his pounding headache, he flopped back into bed. He’ll deal with it when he’s not hungover. For now, knowing of your feelings was the only thing keeping him alive at the moment.
He turned away from you, burying his face into his hands, wincing at the aftermath of his drinking. "Ugh. My head fucking hurts...'m gonna die for a bit. Wake me if it's an emergency."
You sat up instead, already heading to the kitchen. "Oh. I just started preparing a hangover soup but—"
Lohen shot up, posture pin straight. "I'll eat."
“You just said your head was hurting. You should rest first.”
But he stood up, throwing his blanket somewhere on the floor. “Soup. I want soup.”
Your mouth opened to protest, but you gave up. “Sure. Whatever you want. Let’s go to the kitchen, then.”
“I love you.” Lohen said, a plea for you to say that you loved him again. Even with evidence, everything still felt like a dream. He wondered if this was another pleasant dream, and he’d wake up, forehead to the desk in Varka’s office with groggy eyes, accompanied by paperwork instead of you.
He begged for it not to.
You took his hand, pulling him along. “I love you too, Lohen.”
“So. Now we’re together.”
Lohen’s quill was nowhere to be seen, and his feet were propped up onto the table, as Varka groaned, arms crossed at his own desk.
“I get that young love is beautiful and whatnot. But might I remind you, that you’re still under strict supervision and you didn’t come in at all yesterday.”
Lohen rolled his eyes, his cheery mood undeterred by Varka’s disappointment. He had spent the entire morning rambling about you, celebrating your new status as lovers and verbally brainstorming his plans for the future. He told Varka of all the souvenirs you brought him (if it could even be called that—there were crates upon crates) and boasted about how lucky he was to be in love. He even went as far as mocking Varka, boasting about how you made him a special hangover soup, all from scratch, while Varka had to tough out his hangovers.
(He even ventured towards the topic of marriage, debating where to get an engagement ring commissioned someday and reminding himself to figure out your favourite gemstone. Varka scoffed when Lohen asked where he got his, rubbing in the fact that the Grandmaster was very much single. The closest thing Varka was married to was duty and responsibility—maybe even alcohol, too.)
A gloved hand rested over his chest. “To be fair, you did pull me out of solitary confinement for them.” He stared at the roof, unbothered by the chandelier’s glare as he swooned. He’ll pick up a nice bouquet of lovers on his way home for you. “Six years have never been more worth it. Barbatos, I'm sorry for cussing you out. You're not so bad.” He said to no one in particular.
The Grandmaster stood up, approaching the young man. He grabbed his quill and tossed it in front of him. “Was your lover worth getting wasted in front of everyone?”
Lohen’s heart sank to his stomach. His neck snapped straight and he looked Varka dead in the eye.
“Oh hey. You’re turning red now. You’re starting to remind me of Diluc’s hair.”
“How’d you even know about that?” Suddenly, his feet were off the table, heels planted to the floor and his body tensed up, as if preparing to escape or attack Varka at any moment.
“I was there? Had a drink with Kaeya and caught up with Thoma. His mother and I go way back” A slight smirk creased his lips. “You don’t seem very fond of him.”
You failed to mention that, all you told him was that he was being clingy and confessed, before begging you to come over. How much did you leave out? You were the type to omit details for the sake of another’s dignity, and the only things Lohen could recall by himself was his slurred speech and whining.
Varka didn’t relent in his teasing. “Huh. You don’t seem so bad when you’re shy. I can see why you’ve finally found yourself a lover. Well done, by the way. Good thing Thoma wasn’t interested in them.”
“I’ll do the paperwork, okay?” He snatched the quill, grip tightening to the point his knuckles faded to white. At this rate, he was going to do things worse than poisoning his beer. He’ll rush through this paperwork before running off to go see you again.
But apparently, his current state wasn’t amusing enough. “I can see why you don’t drink. You’re worse than me. You even threw mora at Thoma to prove you were richer. Kind of cute seeing you jump to conclusions and get all whiny—”
“Shut up.” He really will up his dose of poison. And throw out the antidote while he’s at it.
warning(s) -> fluff, sfw, semi proofread, lohen being a tease (but he doesn't really realize it), reposted from an old blog i deleted, flirty(?) lohen, shy reader, soft physical contact (hand holding, close proximity), gentle tension | wordcount. 842 | notes. teehee another repost from an old blog of mine because i loved this fic so much :3 art credits
lohen’s quiet closeness leaves you flustered, and when he gently holds your hand, your reactions only make him lean in even more.
lohen doesn’t mean to make you nervous.
he really doesn’t.
but there’s something about the way he stands close to you—just a little too close—that makes your thoughts tangle into knots. he’s not even doing anything obvious. he isn’t flirting, not in the way you’ve seen other people do. he doesn’t use smooth lines or exaggerated compliments.
he just looks at you.
and that’s somehow worse.
because when lohen looks at you, it’s steady and attentive, like you’re something worth studying carefully. like every small reaction you have matters.
and unfortunately for you, you react to everything.
you’re sitting beside him, trying to focus on the map spread across the table. the lantern light flickers gently, casting warm shadows across the wood. lohen leans over slightly to look at the same spot you’re pointing to.
you don’t notice at first.
until you realize how close he is.
his shoulder brushes yours, and you freeze immediately, your voice faltering mid-sentence.
“…s-so if we take this route-”
you lose your train of thought completely when you feel his breath near your ear. it’s not intentional—he’s just leaning in to see better—but your face heats instantly.
lohen glances at you.
“did you forget?” his voice is quiet, curious.
you shake your head quickly. “n-no, i just-” you turn your head but you soon realize how big of a mistake that is because now he’s even closer.
you can see the faint details of his expression—the calm focus in his eyes, the slight tilt of his head as he studies your face, his mole, everything.
yet he doesn’t move away. if anything, he leans just slightly closer, like he’s trying to figure something out.
“your face is red,” he murmurs.
you immediately look away. “it’s just warm in here.”
“is it?”
he glances around the room thoughtfully, then back at you. his hand moves without much thought, resting lightly against the table beside yours, effectively trapping you between him and the wood.
he doesn’t seem to realize what he’s doing.
but you definitely do.
your heart starts racing.
lohen leans in again, his voice softer now.
“you always do that.”
“d-do what?”
“get quiet when i’m close.”
your breath catches.
he’s still watching you, eyes gentle but intent, like he’s genuinely curious about your reaction.
“does it bother you?” he asks.
you open your mouth, then close it again. your brain feels completely scrambled. “i-it’s not… i mean…”
lohen shifts slightly.
his knee brushes yours under the table and you nearly jump.
he notices immediately, an apologetic look on his face. “sorry.”
but he doesn’t move away.
instead, he studies your expression again, like he’s trying to understand why such small contact affects you so much.
“you’re trembling,” he murmurs quietly.
you look down, embarrassed, realizing he’s right. your fingers are gripping the edge of the table, your shoulders tense.
lohen’s hand moves slowly, hesitantly—like he’s giving you time to pull away—before his fingers gently touch yours.
it’s a light touch, barely there, but your entire body reacts instantly. your breath hitches, and you freeze.
lohen goes still too, watching carefully.
“…you really are sensitive,” he says softly.
there’s no teasing in his voice, he’s just quietly observing you for any more of your reactions, and somehow that makes it worse.
you try to pull your hand back, but his fingers curl slightly around yours—not tight, just enough to keep the contact.
“is this okay?” he asks gently.
you nod quickly, even though your face is burning.
he relaxes slightly, his thumb brushing lightly across your knuckles. the movement is slow, absentminded, like he’s not even fully aware he’s doing it.
but you definitely are.
your heart feels like it’s trying to escape your chest.
lohen glances at you again, noticing your expression.
“you’re even redder now.”
you let out a small, embarrassed sound. “p-please don’t point it out…”
he tilts his head slightly, something soft appearing in his eyes.
“it’s cute.”
you freeze completely.
“w-what?”
he doesn’t seem embarrassed by the comment. if anything, he looks rather proud of himself for saying it.
“when you get flustered,” he continues quietly, his fingers still loosely holding yours, “your eyes move everywhere except at me.”
your breath catches as he leans slightly closer again.
“but when i say something unexpected…” his voice lowers just a little. “…you look right at me.” your eyes snap to his automatically. he notices and smiles softly. “like that.”
you don’t know what to do with the way your chest tightens.
lohen’s gaze softens further, his thumb still brushing slowly across your hand. the room feels smaller somehow, quieter, like the rest of the world faded away without you noticing.
he leans just slightly closer, stopping before it becomes too much.
“tell me if i’m making you uncomfortable,” he murmurs.
you shake your head quickly, even though your heart is racing.
lohen watches you for another moment. then, very gently, he squeezes your hand once.
marriage of (in)convenience — mydei x reader — masterlist!
↳ header is from 芝麻汤圆煮多久 on weibo !!
sypnosis — stuck in an arranged marriage with the crown prince of castrum kremnos, you both try to find a way to make the arrangement a lot more hell for the people who forced the two of you into this, and maybe you end up working together better than you thought.
started: 5-14-25 — ended: 8-29-25
total-wc : 48.2k words !! READ ON AO3
content : arranged marriage au. slowburn kinda. shenanigans. idiots (the smartest of their kingdoms btw) falling in love. jealousy. miscommunication. also smut in the last chapter but they're married, just read responsibly cuz i know u guys are gonna read it anyway lol.
I. RECKONING : [ 1.9k words ]
II. RESISTANCE : [ 4.7k words ]
III. UNRAVELING : [ 13.5k words ]
— part one [ 9.2k words ] / part two [ 4.5k words ]
IV. SURRENDER : [ 15.2k words ]
V. DEVOTION : [ 12.5k words ]
TAGLIST: closed!
THANK YOU ALL FOR BEING W ME AS I WROTE THIS!!
usagi's note: HEY!! i told u guys i would post on the 14th HAHA, anyway sorry this took so long, i finished all the current trailblazer quests AND THEN i found out i passed my dream college so i had to get that sorted out first ^^ anyway, do tell me if you guys like it!
@usagiarchive 2025. do not repost, translate, or use for AI. reblogs, likes, and comments are very appreciated!!
Synopsis: Every January since you were little, you would dream about a field of snow, waking up cold. That was happening until you went back home one January – when that same dream would end differently, in which the snow melted and you would hear a voice. That same voice was the one you would hear from a fellow figure skater that you met in your home town; his name was Khaslana. Now you can't seem to avoid this man, whether you're online or outside and fans can't get enough of you two together.
Notes
𖤓 Modern!Au, social media!au, fem!reader, slow burn, cursing, potential injury descriptions, suggestive, a touch more supernatural/hints of fantasy if you squint, inaccurate depiction of professional figure skating, phai-triplets au,
𖤓 Same AU as my Phainon SMAU "Unemployment Hotline" and "I'll Shoot You to the Moon"
𖤓 Comment on the masterlist (this post) to be added to the taglist
──── 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! ˊˎ -
⊹₊ masterlist / rules
꒰ pairing: Phainon x Reader x Mydei ꒱
꒰ word count: 5k ꒱
꒰ c.w: MDNI, NSFW content, semi-public setting, threesome, spitroast, porn with minimal plot, double creampie, unprptected sex, fem. receiving oral ꒱
ᯓ✩ 𝒑.𝒔: genuinely reached flow state writing the last part of this. oh how i've missed my hot and steamy smuts like this. i've been teasing this for a while but it's finally here!!
Everything between Phainon of Aedes Elysiae and Mydeimos of Kremnos is a competition.
Everything.
You’ve been roped into their little spats time and time again, whether it be to help break a tie or to argue against one that the other somehow didn’t qualify to win. But today really is your last straw with letting them both work on your last nerve with these childish games.
After a long day of work, you’ve reserved a private room for yourself in the bathhouse, steam filling the air as you sink into the hot water, allowing it to wash away your weariness and aches. Your hair is pinned up to prevent it from getting wet and you sink down comfortably on the bench until you’re submerged to your chin. The air is humid and heavy, making you draw in a sigh for a breath that better satisfies your lungs.
You’ve been anticipating this moment of respite all day, and because of it, this mundane bath is the best you’ve ever experienced in your life despite it being no different from the dozens you’ve had before. Until it isn’t.
The door slams open and before you can even register the words that are being shared you recognise the voice of the man speaking: Phainon. When you cast a glare over your shoulder towards these invaders of your sanctuary, you’re not surprised in the slightest when you see Mydei by his side.
“I’ve booked this room for the hour. Get lost.” You bite out, your patience level at zero for their shenanigans today.
“Ah, but we thought you wouldn’t mind.” Phainon begins with that disarmingly charming smile of his, “Mydei seems to think he can withstand a bath hotter than me but I highly doubt that.” Great. Just great. Another damned competition.
“Well go somewhere else, I’ve had a busy morning.” You reply curtly. Mydei seems willing to leave but Phainon pouts like a petulant brat.
“But all the other private rooms are booked up.”
“Do it another time then.” The deliverer’s posture seems to deflate at your unwillingness to budge on the subject. Your gaze flickers to Mydei, hoping he’ll take your side and see the sense in postponing their little bet, but his golden eyes don’t meet yours. They’re instead following the path of condensation running down your neck, how beautiful you look like this with your damp hair haphazardly pinned out of the way with your smooth shoulders on display-
And that’s when you remember that you’re naked beneath the foggy surface of hot water. Phainon, ever gold of heart and dumb of ass – as you and Cipher have coined for him – is so fixed on proving himself a victor that he has yet to acknowledge your state of undress too. In a public bath, you wouldn’t feel so bashful as you’d be amongst others in the same state, but it feels different in the privacy of a room that you’ve reserved for yourself.
Your jaw clenches so hard at his obliviousness that your eye begins to twitch, and Phainon finally notices the combination of flusteredness and irritation upon your face. His lips form a small o of surprise and he glances over to Mydei who has now closed his eyes to save him from the fact that he’s not entirely sure he can set his gaze upon you respectfully right now.
Once more, you sigh and sink down further into the steaming pool. Phainon’s fingertips drum against his belt for a few moments as he seems to be pondering something, teeth sinking into his lower lip as though he’s thinking really hard… that can’t be good.
So you’re pleasantly surprised by his next words: “Then forgive us for intruding. How about we fetch you some food to enjoy to make up for it?”
“Very well…” You agree. Having some things to snack on while you relax does sound lovely, after all. The two Chrysos Heirs head out and you resume your relaxation, sinking back down into the water.
“What are you playing at?” Mydei growls lowly as soon as the door closes behind them, having waited until he was sure you’d be unable to hear.
“I have a new bet, let’s scrap the bath idea.” Phainon replies.
“Oh? Because you’ve realised you’ll lose?” The crown prince raises a brow with a teasing smirk.
“Ok, then let’s postpone the bath bet. What I mean to say is that I think this idea is far more interesting…”
Mydei considers how to answer for a moment. Phainon has stirred up plenty of trouble for the two of them before with his ideas… but no one’s ever been hurt before so what could be the harm in hearing him out, “I’m listening…”
“I saw you looking… and so did she-”
“What does that have to do with-?” Mydei barks before Phainon can even finish, wanting to save face.
“But did you see her looking?” The question makes Mydei pause.
“... Was she?”
Phainon nods with a little hum, grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh she absolutely was, friend.” Mydei ponders this fact for a few moments and swallows his doubts to inquire further:
“So what is it you’re proposing?”
The pair of men return, Phainon carrying a tray while Mydei has a bottle and glasses. There’s some cheeses, cured meats, fruits, and some wine. You wonder if perhaps they’ve finally realised just how grating it is to be caught in the middle of their contests all the time, and if they’ve cashed in a favour with the kitchen staff to at last show their remorse. Maybe your bath isn’t ruined after all. But there is an awful lot of food, so much that you’re not sure you can finish it yourself with your current appetite.
“Thank you.” You say as Mydei opens the wine for you, then tentatively you add: “Will the two of you perhaps join me? There’s a lot here to eat and I’m sure you can use the bath for your bet once I’m done, hm?” Mydei glances towards Phainon with an unreadable expression, but the deliverer is grinning from ear to ear.
“Sure we will! That sounds great!” Phainon turns to his strawberry blond companion, “Shall we go change, friend?” Mydei grunts at his cocky grin, a part of him hating how everything is going according to Phainon’s plan so far and yet another part is eager to see just how far you’ll let the two of them take this. You keep your back turned to them and let your head tip back against the towel you’ve folded at the edge of the bath to use as a makeshift pillow, cushioning your head to allow you to relax more. Your eyes remain closed as you feel the ripples of Mydei and Phainon sinking into the water.
Your eyes only crack open again to reach for a cracker and piece of cheese to pop into your mouth. Phainon and Mydei seem to fall under the same influence as you within the heat of the private pool – perhaps having them join you might actually change your day for the better? You certainly think so as Mydei pours a glass of wine and hands it to you.
“Thank you.” You let the sweet taste of pomegranate pour down your throat and notice how Phainon practically inhales his cup and then refills it… odd. You hope the two of them haven’t made a new bet to see who can outdrink the other… again. Mydei won last time, if you recall correctly.
Either way, you fall right back into pace, unwinding in the steamy room, now joined by friends who have brought food and wine – what could be better than this?
Mydei’s arm stretches out along the edge of the pool behind you but you take little notice as he’s a big guy and takes up a lot of room as a consequence, sitting even upon his throne with his thick thighs spread far apart. He just takes up a lot of room, you dismiss. But Phainon isn’t quite as subtle…
“Ah, you have some-” He reaches forwards to brush some non-existent crumbs from your mouth, thumb tracing the plush curve of your bottom lip. His bright blue eyes are half lidded behind thick lashes, and they linger on your wine-tinted mouth.
Mydei’s jaw clenches when you don’t pull away – fuck, he might actually lose this one – and so he intervenes. His fingers gently trace spirals on your nape, sending shivers down your spine. It gives you an excuse to turn away from Phainon’s heated gaze and so you take it readily. But he’s now closer than he was before, olive skin glistening with the humidity of the bath house, red tattoos a stark contrast to the lightly coloured tiles around you all.
“He’s just being an idiot, don’t mind him.” Mydei says with a slight smirk, his words aimed at you but his taunt aimed at the deliverer. Phainon huffs at having his win snatched out from right under his nose and he leans in a little closer, his bottom lip jutted out in a pout when you turn back to get a look at him.
“We’re sorry we’ve been annoying you lately.” Phainon apologises, looking for sympathy, forgiveness, pity, just any form of your attention right now. This isn’t just about winning, dammit! He yearns for the prize itself, not just the bragging rights this time. You let out a little sigh.
“It gets to a point… but the pair of you aren’t all that bad, you’re my friends.” You offer him some reassurance with a gentle smile. The way he grins and perks up in response makes you feel that his tail would be wagging right now if he had one.
Mydei seizes the opportunity you’ve just presented him with, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks in a low, husked tone: “Just friends?” His calloused fingertips trace the curve of your shoulder. You’ve been feeling the tension weighing down on the air like steam, but the crown prince beside you has just catalysed it.
You open your mouth to reply but nothing comes out. How can you reply to that?! You’d have to be blind to not see how utterly handsome the pair of them are, oblivious to having failed to notice how protective they are of you. Has it always been this way? It just feels so much… more now. But what exactly does Mydei mean by that? Are they both confessing and asking you to choose one? You don’t think you ever could. He seems to sense the myriad of questions charging through your mind.
“You don’t have to think about it right now if you don’t want to… just feel, yeah? You keep saying we’ve been working your last nerve so now it’s only fair we make you feel all relaxed and good, don’t you think, Phainon?”
Phainon’s bright blue eyes light up and he nods eagerly, leaning in so close that his breath fans over your cheek. Mydei’s chest brushes against your shoulder and you realise you’re sandwiched between the two of them who are looking down at you like you’re the ripest fruit their starving senses have ever encountered-
Oh. Oh.
You’re ashamed to admit that you’ve been ignoring their blatant desire up until this moment and now you’re forced to come face to face with it. It’s not that you don’t want this, just that you’re not exactly sure where they intend to take this-
But Phainon is more intuitive than his smiley self often lets on and he registers your hesitance.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to… and if you do then we don’t need to make a big deal of it.” He murmurs, open to whatever it is you might want to or not get out of what they’re proposing to you here in the heavy air of the bathhouse.
Mydei tucks away a stray strand of hair that’s come undone from your hairstick, guiding it behind your ear where it sticks to the side of your neck, damp. It’s gentle and affectionate, a gesture that they want you but things need not be taken any further than this should you express that right now.
You practically gnaw on your lip as you consider the opportunity on a silver platter in front of you. Mydei and Phainon are undeniably gorgeous, admired by men and women alike all over the Eternal Holy City. Is this really something you want to pass up? And surely it doesn’t have to mean a ruined friendship, right? Perhaps just… friendship and a little something more.
Well now you’re not sure who to kiss first.
Mydei seems to know he’s at a disadvantage with you facing Phainon and not him so he makes himself known with fingertips tracing the length of your arm, provoking shivers in you despite the building heat of tension and steam. But Phainon sees his window of opportunity, relishes in how your line of sight fixes on his mouth, and leans in to press his lips to yours, firm yet tender all at once.
“HKS…” Mydei grumbles under his breath, hand hiding its way to your hip and squeezing. The prince settles instead for kissing just below your ear, seizing the opportunity to mark you before the deliverer can. With a pleased hum, one of your hands reaches back to tangle in Mydei’s long strawberry-blond and red hair while the other sets itself atop the mound of Phainon’s pec. You can taste the pomegranate wine on his tongue when it swipes against your lower lip. The water ripples around you when Mydei looms over you from behind, his broad chest pressing to your back, teeth sinking into your soft flesh just enough to leave indents behind.
Phainon’s mouth grows more demanding, tongue pushing insistently at your lips until you allow him access to explore you like this. But Mydei matches his energy and breaks your kiss in order to haul you into his lap, provoking a little noise of surprise from you when you feel him pressing insistently against your lower back – all of him. The prince now cups your chin in his large hand to make you look at him over your shoulder. For a moment, he smears a mix of yours and Phainon’s saliva across your bottom lip before he leans in and catches it between his teeth, tugging teasingly, before letting his tongue glide against yours.
With you seated on Mydei’s lap, you’re lifted more out of the water now and so Phainon has a front row seat to the perfect view of your bare tits. With a whine-tinged sigh of longing, he kisses his way across your collarbone and down to the plump flesh of your breasts. He laps eagerly against your nipple before sucking down on it harshly, bringing his hand up to grope the other before it can feel left out.
“Such pretty tits, baby.” He murmurs as he teases each of your peaks into stiffening for him. Mydei’s hand has meanwhile wrapped around your throat to keep you from turning away from him, a dominant action that preludes his intentions with you.
“You gonna let us see how pretty the rest of you is?” Mydei’s voice rumbles against the shell of your ear that he then teasingly nips and tugs between his teeth.
“Fuck-” You pant out as Phainon’s mouth suctions around your nipple that’s now growing puffy from his eager attention. “Yeah- yeah I am.”
“Atta girl.” Mydei hoists you out of the water, sitting on the edge of the pool and setting your thighs over his so that your legs are forced to spread with how he sits with his knees so far apart. His hand glides down your side and gropes the plush flesh of your thigh, already picturing all the different positions he wants to push them in. He’s at a better angle now to grind his swollen cock against the cleft of your ass now too, and it’s something he takes advantage of.
Phainon has followed the two of you, but doesn’t rise up from the water. You lift a hand to beckon him closer, but he’s already three steps ahead of whatever you had in mind. His thumbs reach forward to peel your pussy open, watching the twitch of your clit in the heated air and how your hole clenches slightly at being viewed so blatantly by his hungry eyes.
“Yeah, Mydei, you were right… she’s just as pretty here.” He sighs in bliss before leaning in to lap a wide lick up your slit, kissing your clit tenderly as though to preemptively apologise for all he’s about to put the poor bud through. He latches onto it like he did your tits, tongue flicking against it as his hands find your hips to still you from bucking and squirming too much. Mydei lets out a grunt at how it only pushes your plump ass more firmly against his dick.
The prince is pretty much humping against you now, leaning back just enough to watch his angry red tip leaking pre against your wet skin. Your hands are now tangled in the damp locks of Phainon’s snowy hair as he laps at you like a fountain, those bright blue eyes looking up at you with hazed lust, watching for all your reactions as he finally gets to learn what makes your body tick. He moans once his tongue begins to dip into your hot cunt, savouring your bittersweetness. Mydei presses one hand to your abdomen while he spits on his thumb and brings it to your clit to rub little stars against it.
“You taste sho’ sweet, beauti-mmph…” He lets out muffled whines at a tug on his hair when his voice sends reverberations throughout your most sensitive parts. You’re now pushing on the back of his head to essentially smother him against your cunt, but it’s the last thing on this planet he’d ever wish to complain about.
Between Phainon’s tongue, and Mydei putting just the right amount of pressure on your abdomen and friction on your clit, you find yourself nearing an orgasm embarrassingly quickly. Phainon’s fingers are digging into the squish of your thigh while Mydei’s lips drag against the side of your throat. You’re panting already and you try in vain to lie to yourself and believe it’s mostly because of the steam in the room and not because your two friends are playing your body like a lyre.
Phainon is near literally making out with your cunt now, lapping up your wetness like it’s ambrosial wine. Meanwhile, Mydei’s hand cups the underside of your jaw to make you tip your head back enough to look at him, hand pushing upwards more until he’s pushing two fingers into your mouth, letting them slide over your tongue. Instinctively, you wrap your lips around the digits and suck on them, tongue swiping across and between them within the warmth of your mouth. Mydei groans, a smirk tugging at his lips as you let out a muffled whine from how Phainon is eating out your cunt like a feral man.
“Aren’t you skilled with this mouth, sweetheart?” He leers and pushes his fingers towards the back of your tongue, “Why don’t you show me what else it can do, hm?” With that, he lifts you from his lap and turns you over so you’re instead bent over the edge of the pool, your ass and the very tops of your thighs highlighted by the surface of the hot water lapping at your legs. Mydei is kneeling in front of you now and he drags over the towel you’d been using as a makeshift pillow earlier, sliding it under you to cushion your elbows.
“Fuck, look at you, pretty baby~” You hear Phainon huff under his breath as his hands cup the curve of your ass and squeeze firmly, spreading you enough to reveal your slick holes, puffy pussy squished enticingly between the fat of your thighs.
Mydei’s hand lifts your chin while he uses the other to tap the leaking head of his thick cock against your cheek twice, watching the clear precum smear against your flushed skin. You’d never expected his tattoos to extend to the shaft of his cock, and yet you find yourself yearning to trace the red lines with your tongue. The crown prince sucks in a hiss between his teeth when you do just that.
“That’s it, sweet girl, look how hungry you are for it…” He groans, fingers raking through your hair to brush it away from your face, keeping it from your eyes and making sure he has an unobscured view of that lust-glazed sparkle in your pretty eyes.
Phainon, meanwhile, reminds you of his presence with a whimper as he glides his cock through the cleft of your ass, thumb pressing down over the length to make sure he can really feel the squish of your plush flesh. His hands are otherwise splayed across your hip and asscheek, humping against you.
By the time your lips are pouting against Mydei’s reddened tip, letting him press in, Phainon’s cock is gliding through your sticky slit, making sure his cockhead catches your clit with every stroke. You can taste Mydei on your tongue as his cock nudges against the roof of your mouth and you push your tongue against the thrumming vein on the underside. He lets out a drawn out groan and his fist tightens in your hair.
Having teased himself enough with gliding his length through the plush lips of your pussy, Phainon finally nudges his cock against your entrance. He’s not as thick as Mydei, you think as he stops at just the tip stretching your snug walls, the deliverer panting softly as he narrows all of his focus onto not finishing early – but you’re just so wet and warm and tight! His head falls back as he pushes forwards in one smooth motion until his hips are flush to your ass.
You nearly choke on Mydei’s cock that’s jutting its way to the back of your throat – you were wrong to underestimate Phainon! You didn’t manage to get a good look at his dick when he was eating you out as he was still mostly submerged in the water, but what he lacks in girth he more than makes up for in length! His tip is already squished up against your cervix, like he’s trying to ram right past it. But he doesn’t quite seem to realise just how much you’re taking for his sake as he’s still buried to the hilt, hands curling into your hips as he pants and whimpers, twitching at each clench of your pussy on him.
“Open wider.” Mydei commands your attention back to him. You relax your jaw, tongue outstretched as he bullies his way to the back of your throat with a groan of pleasure. “That’s it, so good at taking orders, aren’t you?” He teases with a leering grin as he encourages you with a hand in your hair to start bobbing your head on him. While your moans are muffled into wet gags around Mydei’s fat cock, Phainon finally finds his focus and begins to fuck into you with shallow thrusts, hands sliding from your hips to your waist and back, unable to pull out more than a few inches before being drawn back in by the snug embrace of your hole, gaze fixed to the jiggle of your soft body each time he bottoms out.
“So good, so, so good, you feel so-” He whines, his thrusts jackhammering you like a rabbit, the light splashes of water over the edge of the pool mixing into the cacophony of grunts, moans, gags and the lewd squelches of your pussy.
“What’s noisier, that pretty cunt or this sweet mouth, hm?” Mydei’s golden eyes flick up to meet Phainon, but the younger Chrysos heir seems drunk on your pussy, rutting into your gummy walls like he’s no better than a dog. He’s eager and his length is merciless against your poor hole that’s being made to accommodate his size again and again with each pump of his hips. Your thighs are being squished between his body and the edge of the pool, having pushed you as far forwards as possible, causing you to take more of Mydei’s cock down your throat in turn.
Your pleasure increases tenfold though, when Phainon reaches under you to find your swollen clit, rubbing the little pearl in sticky circles while smearing your slick over it. Your legs tremble under you and Mydei picks up on your shaky arms. He moves from being on his knees to sitting down with his legs outstretched on either side of you, letting you lean down and not put so much balance on your arms. It becomes easier to instead focus on Phainon ramming into you from behind and the tart taste of Mydei’s pre smearing across your drooling tongue.
“Shit! You tightened up so much-” Phainon whines, cock throbbing as he feels his release nearing. Mydei has his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his gaze flickers between your glassy eyes and the bounce of your ass each time Phainon plunges into you.
“You hear that? I think you’re going to make him cum~” He croons from above you, grinning at how you’ve got the fearsome deliverer whimpering like a pup while he pumps into your cunt at rapid pace. Your back arches sweetly and Phainon lets out a broken whimper as it allows him a little deeper into you. The next thing you register is the hot spurt of his cum spilling deep into you. He leans over your back, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades as he pants and whines, grinding his tip against your abused cervix with a death grip on your hips to make sure he doesn’t slip out of you – not that there’s anywhere you could go given how you’re sandwiched between his toned figure and the edge of the pool.
To your surprise, Mydei pulls out of your mouth, his thumb tracing the plush curve of your bottom lip to wipe away your drool. The action makes you feel even more debauched and it has you clenching on Phainon. But the white-haired man whines when you’re pulled out of his arms and into Mydei’s lap instead.
“You can take another load, right, sweetheart?” He asks in a gravelly tone as he seats you onto his thick cock. He doesn’t reach quite as far as Phainon did, but the thicker stretch as you keening and arching into his broad chest. He pushes into your clenching insides, groaning as Phainon’s creamy spend runs down the shaft of his red-marked cock. His calloused hand comes down on your ass, making you squeal. “I asked you a question.” He tilts his head to the side, braid falling over his shoulder as he looks at you pointedly, eyes of molten gold penetrating your very being.
“Y-yes! Can take ahh~ another load!” You babble as he starts to bounce you on his dick. After only a few strokes Phainon – not wanting to be left out – presses himself to your back and reaches around your front to begin to paw at your plump tits, teasing the nipples and tugging on them. Mydei could shoo him away but they’ve done well enough at sharing you so far, and every pinch to your sensitive nipples makes you squeeze deliciously on his fat cock.
With Mydei’s grip on your ass being used to haul you up and down on his shaft like a doll, Phainon takes it upon himself to let one of his hands glide down your front and to your clit once more, swiping across it in rapid motions, wanting- needing to see you orgasm. It’s successful in getting your head to fall back against his shoulder, moans pouring from your lips that will undoubtedly be heard should anyone stand too close to the door-
But he swallows down all your noises with a heated kiss when he feels a spray of your juices against his fingertips, Mydei growling at how you tighten up on him just right.
“Fuck, fuck! Milking me like that, I’ll-” The crown prince cuts himself off in favour of gritting his teeth to muffle his grunts as he spills his load into you. You’re left mewling into Phainon’s mouth at the hot spill in your sensitive pussy. You’re all left panting when Phainon eventually breaks the kiss in favour of nuzzling into your neck, Mydei’s hands stroking up and down the curve of your waist to soothe your shaking figure. Only once he thinks you can take it does he steadily lift you off his cock and let you fall into his sculpted chest. To let you stretch your legs from where they’ve been folded to straddle him, he leans back against the tiled floor, palm smoothing up and down your back as you steadily come down from your high.
But Phainon isn’t done with you just yet, pushing one of your thighs aside to spread them again. He cups the sides of your ass to coax you into a gentle arch, just enough to let him access your creampied pussy when he lays down on his front.
“Phai! Can’t take any-” He cuts you off with a cooing tone:
“Shhh, pretty girl, just cleaning you up.” He murmurs against your slit as he laps up the cum and slick that’s dribbling from your used hole. He’s firm but gentle with each roll of his tongue, swallowing down the mess the three of you have made of your poor cunt.
“Let’s get a robe for you.” Mydei murmurs, lips caressing the shell of your ear, “Wouldn’t want the next booking to come in and find you all ruined like this, hm?”
⋆ :₊ ꒰ banner by @/snvvo on X ꒱
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Synopsis: [Name] finds a phone number conveniently scribbled on the locker room wall labelled as "Unemployment Hotline" after she's fired from her job. What she didn't know was that this was the number of her favorite streamer, Phainon, mainly known as Khaslana.
An SMAU no one asked for, but I'm writing it because I had a spark in an airplane. Also, I love Phainon bc who doesn't <33 Send ask/comment under any post of the SMAU to be added to the taglist
TAGLIST STATUS: Open
NOTES:
♡ Modern!au, social media!au, fem!reader, suggestive tw (no smut), mentions of violence, unhinged [name], mentions of j*b applications (/j), swearing (lots of it!!), graphic jokes, mentions of cannibalism, kinda slowburn, (more might be added)
♡ Slow updates
♡ !! Note that time stamps do not matter, and will be inconsistent !!
♡ My first smau; it's my first time posting any form of fic, so keep that in mind ^^;
♡ Honestly so heavily inspired by Sobaniiruyo by MANJIROUS on Wattpad
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