Zandik's hands weren't what they used to be. You find a different way to comfort him.
Established OldZandik/reader. Reader wears dresses. Inspired by a post on twitter from psychxbby about nail painting and old Zandik wanting to be useful again.
On AO3 here.
It was almost done. Weeks of studies, months of pain.
His joints never cooperated anymore.
Trembling, he inhaled and exhaled slow as a single grain of sand through an hourglass before gliding the thin brush over the canvas. The brush jittered, as it always did, and he cursed in old Sumerian as he tried to scrap off the excess with his knife, leaving a scar on your dress.
The lighting that day had been perfect. Deep red satin shining in the afternoon. A perfect, shining gem coveted for its luster and cut.
His days were numbered. So many patients said they felt their body failing them. Feofan had confessed as such over the decades.
His hands had always been so steady, so capable. Surgery was nothing more than child’s play. Fine motor work that was second nature, honed and refined in long hours few ever bothered with. Painting was your forte, your second love, but you’d taught him with patience that almost outpaced his own.
How did someone barely in their third decade be so willing to wait? At that age, he was only patient when it mattered, but you?
You felt at ease in this world. He didn’t so much envy you as he did long to capture it, understand it, so he too could feel it, one day.
Zandik stepped back from the canvas, brow furrowed as he forced his bad eye to focus. Depth perception was difficult and his heart sank.
Nothing but a shadow. Colors stood too sharp against one another, his fingers having been too sore for longer blending periods. It was obvious he’d had more energy for your face, the finest part of the entire masterpiece. Ten years ago, this would have been so easy.
Useless.
Old.
Decrepit.
Why did you bother with him, he wondered. This was meant to be your birthday present, the way he saw you and what you meant to him.
Would you feel compelled to fix it? Straighten the lines, smooth the colors, make quick work of his shaky splatters?
He couldn’t hold a wrench anymore, nor were his eyes good for small mechanisms. With all of the major projects outsourced to the better and more capable parts of himself, this was all he had left. How else did one capture their world visually?
He sat down, palette knife in hand, contemplating just slashing the thing to pieces.
“Zandik?”
Your voice, a melody.
One he didn’t deserve, not right now. The sentiment must have shown or you would not have hesitated as you said, “I can come back.”
He held out a hand, dropping the knife and beckoning you. You took it upon reaching him, fingers finding the sore joints you always worked. So warm, like morning sun on dewed grass.
Your appraising silence was a strange comfort to the voice in his head.
“You are unhappy with it, I take it?” you asked, nestling onto his leg, skirts rustling as you pulled the palette knife from his other hand.
“I can’t do anything anymore,” Zandik whispered. “What good am I, when parts of me are so much more efficient, quicker witted, not prone to failure? What do you see in me?”
You pressed a hand to his cheek and he turned to look at you, still barely halfway through life and full of vigor. Eyes that spoke far beyond their years. Those were always his favorite part of you, so expressive, vibrant.
“I see a man determined,” you started. “Who sacrifices himself in hopes of breaking a wheel he may not be around to see shatter.”
You picked up a brush and without breaking your thought, mixed colors nearby.
“Who looks at the world and understands he still has much to learn, even now.”
Skilled hands filled in the space above your shoulder, painting hands, a jacket, red eyes.
“Who looks at me as if I am a marvel despite having experienced every cruelty this world has to offer. Who has let me chip away at the rational transitional walls that stood between us for many years and given me a treasure unimaginable.”
His eyes stung but through a fog, he saw a soft expression, watched as you turned your pose from a stoic mirror into a dynamic, private moment. Your pose originally involved looking off to the side, away from the viewer, but now you looked at the new figure.
Him.
Two styles, not quite clashing but not blending together, either. Faces the only parts in focus.
“I see a man who loves me, Zandik. And that has always been enough.”
He pulled you closer once you put the tools aside, burrowing his head against you. Other parts might say he grew sentimental in his old age despite ripping apart his soul. Perhaps he had. What else was there for the world to teach him?
It was a lesson he was grateful to have finally learned.
overview: kyryll has a lot to say (not surprising). and it seems you have a lot to say, too.
wc: 3k
notes: spoilers for luna iii, act vi: melting moonlight in the morning mist. please do not read under the cut if you do not want to be spoiled. you have been warned. flins is a freak, so there may be suggestive parts. haha nothing new here c:
“What a beautiful sight to behold.”
You stop in your tracks after hearing a very familiar voice. Looking around, you’re sure that you’re not losing it—especially at a time like this.
It’s Moon Prayer Night, and obviously, there will be chatter all around. Tonight’s festival is one of a kind: most of the ladies and young girls dressed up as Moon Goddesses, and special and influential individuals from all around have sponsored the entertaining attractions.
This resulted in you having a lot of fun in a while with your friends to the point you can record almost 4 pages worth of memories. This is a letter you’ll definitely send to your closest ones, for sure.
You tasted different flavors of Moon Prayer candies with them ( it was a fun game of chance if anyone would get the uglier tasting candy, and you were grateful you got coffee ), rode the Dodoco Whirly Gig ( even if it was mostly for children, your inner child was glad nonetheless ), hung out wishing slips ( you wished for more better days like these, and Miss Lauma had smiled—feeling the same ), got your fortunes told ( “Oh, haha, Miss Fortune Teller, she’s got an interesting lovelife that’s for sure!” one of your friends had said ), and lastly, played that one game called ‘Kuuhenki Concentration’ ( “Someone’s gotta be cheating in this one!” one had exclaimed, with so many stickers on their face that you guys had no choice but to paste it into her hair instead ).
You guys were certainly busy with the festivities. After a few hours, your friends decided to take a little break. One of them was still recovering from motion sickness because of the Dodoco Whirly Gig, so they settled on a nearby table to recuperate. Of course, you excused yourself, taking this opportunity to wander around for a bit, even if you have stickers attached on your face.
And perhaps, seek a little someone who may or may not be related to your ‘interesting lovelife.’
So, where did that voice come from? Last time you checked, you’re alone on this short trip. Lifting your head from the picture you’ve taken earlier with a Rimehorn Deer on the faceless cutout standees, your eyes curiously roam around the surrounding area.
Or maybe that voice was not directed to you?
Then, you hear it. Gentle laughter.
Gentle laughter that you can only assume is mere amusement to your ears. “To your left, moonlight. Mhm. Yes. Down here. Oh, how very fortunate that the Moon Goddess had decided to bless me by their presence. Welcome, welcome.”
You blink—you’re currently facing a stall that sells sugar sculptures, with no ‘seller’ in sight. Ah, scratch that. No human seller in sight, because like any of the unique attractions, the sugar sculpture staller has a talking lantern.
So this is what the children have been talking about. A talking lantern that tells you what your spirit animal would be, according to your personality. Your friends are curious to know what the deal is with said talking lantern, so they’re planning to visit after the break. Then, they also want to find out how your ‘special someone’ is faring out in a time like this, so they're gonna be hitting two birds with one stone in this one once they arrive at this stall.
“Greetings, dear Moon Goddess. You are stunning as ever—to be graced by your gentle light, I consider it the best gift you’ve ever offered me.” The lantern says, and you feel your cheeks heating up a little.
Yes, you’re one of the ladies who decided to dress up as one of the Moon Goddesses, too. It didn’t help that Nefer knew how to convince you to wear such clothing. How can you say no, when she had your own gown tailored and slightly adjusted to suit your tastes, but still remained to stick with the original concept. Plus, your friends even matched it with a floral antler headpiece from the Frostmoon Scions.
“Cut the sweet talk, Kyryll,” you tell him, while walking closer to his stall. You fidget with the hems of sleeves. “This is—making me more embarrassed than it already is.”
“Ah, is that so? How odd. Perhaps my memory has been failing me—I do recall you telling me that you like me whispering the highest of praises to you during certain nights.”
Now you’re even hotter. You quickly avert your gaze, and again, this tease of a lantern chuckles. It doesn’t help that Kyryll's laughter is dreamy too, much like his voice.
“Perhaps the Moon Goddess has changed her mind?”
“Kyryll. . . !”
“Haha, I jest, I jest. I have decided to spare you. For now.” You pout at him, and even though he’s in his lantern form, you just know he’s smiling at you right now. “How has your day been so far, my love? I am a little blue that I may not get to spend it with you as much, but I do hope you are enjoying the festival.”
It’s a genuine question from him. You’ve decided to drop your fluster for now and answer sincerely. “I am. It’s been really fun. My friends are taking a short break, so we’ll be continuing the exploring together later. For now, let me give you a heads up, we’ll be visiting every stall, not excluding this one.”
“I’m glad that my sugar sculptures are part of the itinerary, then. I shall do my best to assess your friends so I can accurately tell them their own spirit animal.” Then, the lantern adds, “Oh. That also means you’ll be visiting me again.”
Happiness emanates from said lantern, and your heart softens. This is making you giddy, too, but then, not wanting to fall for Kyryll’s whims, and wanting to get him back a bit, you pretend to huff.
This abrupt change doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Hm? What troubles you so, my dear Moon Goddess? I am able to listen. You shan’t hesitate even if I am a mere lantern—even though my role for tonight is to seek your spirit animal and offer you a sugar sculpture, I assure you, I can lend you an ear.”
Hearing him being a bit worried, you consider if you should continue. Kyryll is gentle and tender; he knows when to get serious if the situation calls for it. But this is to get back at him. And you can have a little fun, too. “Well, Mr. Lantern, it’s just that. . . a certain someone has other priorities lately.”
“Ah. I presume this is a matter of sorting out important and not–so important priorities?”
Based on the way he asked you, you figure he’s not in the know, yet. “Yes. This certain someone hasn’t been spending a lot of time with me lately. I think he prefers the company of others now, like Sir Varka. I’ve heard from the Grandmaster that they’ll be having a toast later after sending Miss Columbina off. Hmph. How lucky of Sir Varka, then, to be able to get to spend time with him during the festival, instead of me, his actual lover.”
You fail to sense how he has faltered. “. . .Oh.”
You sigh dramatically, keeping up with the theatrics. “I mean, who am I to keep him away from the revelries, right? It’s what he deserves, after all, after working so hard with the others.” You close your eyes. “But really. Woe is me. . . woe is me.”
The lantern is quiet for a moment, and you wonder if you’ve taken it a bit too far. You panic a little when the silence seems to prolong, so you immediately open your eyelids. Oh. Oh. You are not gonna dampen Kyryll’s happy mood!
“Ky—“
“Is this what you truly feel, my jewel?” Kyryll asks, in a low tone, and very much concerned. You panic more inwardly: he processed your joke, and took it to heart. He really does take whatever you tell of him really seriously, and you feel your heart fluttering.
Maybe there has been some truth to it—the inevitable loneliness. But it’s not Kyryll’s fault. You’ve heard of the dangers they are currently facing, and even though you’ve only gotten a gist from Nefer herself, you understand why he’s busy. Kyryll has been good to you, he makes sure that you’re still feeling loved despite being away for days, but recently, it’s been a little difficult. Days have gotten into weeks to the point that his visits or appearances in the loving home you two share have dwindled.
But still, you understand.
“I—I was kidding, Kyryll,” you tell him, and scratch at your cheek a little. Wait, there’s a piece of star sticker there, so you pull it away from your cheek, trying to focus on anything else. “Really. It’s just what you said earlier—I jest, I jest!”
But Kyryll is not convinced. Even if he is in his lantern form, you can imagine his expression: his lips are pursed, and he is not satisfied with your answer.
“My love, I will not permit you to go if you will not tell me the truth.”
You almost choke. Oh. It’s going that way, now. “Kyryll—“ You inch closer to him. “It’s the truth! And seriously? You’re a lantern right now. How can you even stop me from leaving?”
“You underestimate my abilities. I would be more than glad to demonstrate it for you.”
The scene of a lantern chasing a Moon Goddess around the festival is funny, but Kyryll is committed. He really won’t let you go if you’re gonna spill half-truths.
It is not in his nature to shrug off concerns like these.
“My love. . .”
“Fine, fine,” Here it goes. Taking a deep breath, you say, “I guess. . . what I am trying to say is. . . I am lonely. There.”
It’s pretty contradictory since you do socialize with others whenever Kyryll is not around, but he’s your lover. You want his attention, too. You want his time, too.
It’s only right, after all.
“And—and I know you guys, like Sir Varka, Nefer, Lauma, and the others have been fighting, and working hard for the sake of Nod Krai and Miss Columbina, and I totally understand that, really! But I miss you, okay? I miss you,” You confess to the lantern. “And I’ve been waiting patiently. Do I not deserve your time, too? I mean, you guys are technically finished now, right? So isn’t it my time to love you now?”
Isn’t it your time to spoil him and care for him now?
And when silence fills the air between you two, your cheeks grow hotter than ever. That bold declaration may have reached any onlookers or people nearby, but you do not care. At least you’ve finally told him what you’ve been bottling up during his absence.
Then, he laughs.
This stupid lantern fae, who’s undeniably yours, laughs.
You glow and shriek, “Kyryll! This is not a laughing matter! I’m being honest!”
He continues to do so, however. “No—please, you are mistaken. I am joyous. I am grateful for your honesty, my love. Thank you, truly, for voicing out what you’ve been hiding in your heart. It means a lot to me.” Kyryll laughs again when you aggravatedly poke him twice—poke twice at his lantern form, at least. “Haha, really now, I appreciate your honesty. I can confidently vaunt to the people that I can read you like an open book—I do like observing you, as shameless as it may seem—but I would not be able to know this if you had not reached out to me and informed me of your troubles. After Moon Prayer Night, I suppose we’ll have a lot to talk more about, then?”
“Yes,” You nod. “I think so. We need it.”
Kyryll doesn’t speak again. You raise a quizzical brow at this.
“Kyryll? What’s wrong?” You tilt your head. “. . .Kyryll?”
“I’m merely thinking, there is nothing to fret, my jewel,” Kyryll reassures you. “Specifically, I’m thinking about you. If you have been missing me, then you must know that it is reciprocated. Perhaps even more so.”
There were brief and subtle kisses that he gave you whenever he saw you in Nasha Town, or whenever he caught you strolling around in his lighthouse. He would caress your face, savor you all in, and intertwine his fingers with yours, memorizing whatever feature he could find before reluctantly leaving.
These were gestures that can only mean that he really does feel the same way. That he really does miss you. That he will always miss you.
But duty calls, even though you know Kyryll would much prefer to be in your company.
“Please do not ever forget that you’re my number one priority,” He says, deep from the heart. “It saddens me that there was a time you ever wondered if you weren’t. Cease those thoughts immediately because you are, my love. You are.”
You smile at him, “After the festival, okay? Let’s talk. A lot.”
“We shall.” He shares the same sentiment. You can feel his happiness again.
For a few seconds, you two exchange a tender moment together. This is how it always has been—though your relationship has grown at a gradual pace, you two know well enough that communication is important. Though there have been rocky roads—memories where one fears to tell what they have been thinking, causing small misunderstandings or squabbles—since everything is not always perfect.
It’s still an on–going process where you and Kyryll still have a lot to learn, but at least, you are doing it together. Kyryll is patient, and you are considerate. There will be lessons. Common grounds. Somebody may get hurt. But that’s just how it is.
Understanding each other is what’s important first and foremost, as it is the key to build happier and healthier relationships.
“. . .Ahem. My love, will you allow me to be direct? Just this once.”
You humor him, even if he popped the sweet bubble you two were in seconds ago with his spontaneity. “When are you not, Kyryll? I’m your lover. Of course, I’m allowing it.”
“Then,” He begins, “I wish to transform into my human form so I can touch you. Hmm, perhaps you’ve seen any secluded alleys during your walk—have you seen any empty alleys nearby? I’d like to peel off the stickers from your skin and kiss you all over. Just five minutes will suffice.”
Your eyes go wide at that. Your cheeks heat up again, and even more so when your mind conjures a very suggestive image. You know it’s not gonna be just five minutes.
“K-Kyryll! You’re joking, right? Right?”
“Haha, I’m not. It certainly doesn’t help that you are dressed up as a goddess. You are divine, my jewel. I have been staring at you a lot. Have you not noticed?”
You squeak at the lantern, “—How should I know?!”
“Mhm. You are exquisite. Absolutely and most definitely ravishing. You evoke desires in me that I am trying hard to repress for I need to remain a gentleman.” Kyryll resumes, wanting to torment you further by his words. “If I may, I wouldn’t mind you wearing this inside our bedchambers.”
The implication is not lost on you. You think you’re going to burst at this rate.
“Shameless! And this is blasphemous, Mr. Lantern! I am dressed up as the Moon Goddess!”
“And it’s all the more reason to worship you. My jewel, we’ve talked about this. Surely, you are aware of my thoughts regarding religious beliefs. I am indifferent to those matters. Blasphemy will not hinder me from getting a taste of you.”
Your jaw drops. You are this close in shaking the lantern. “K-Kyryll!! Stop, not in public, especially when there are kids around!”
More laughter. “My apologies.” You know he doesn’t mean it. He sighs, “It’s difficult not to when you look so breathtaking like this. But I will hold onto that. I shall continue my praises once we’re alone.”
Him and his desires, really. You are sure you’ll explode soon.
If there’s one thing you’ve learned from Kyryll—you should be careful of your words. You’ll have to prepare yourself for later—since you technically did allow him to continue his sweet talk once you two are alone—and goodness, your heart is equal parts excited but also terrified.
Oh, archons.
“I’m just gonna go now, okay? I’ll—I’ll see you later!”
“Of course. I shan’t keep you any longer.” The lantern says, and you can assess from that that he really had fun talking to you this fine evening. And in a dulcet tone — Kyryll murmurs, “Have a happy happy festival, my sweet and delightful Moon Goddess. I’ll see you later.”
When you turn around, you try not to trip the way back to your friends’ table. You don’t want to admit it, but your knees went weak after that.
( And when you and your friends finally arrive at the talking lantern’s stall, they’re fascinated. They assumed that ‘your lover’ voicing out the lantern even if he’s not around must’ve been part of the ‘unique selling point’ or ‘uniqueness’ of this year’s festival, so they did not entirely focus on its mechanics, as it would break the ‘magic.’
Your friends can’t help but giggle to themselves, though, when they’ve noticed that the lantern keeps on addressing you, or directing its whole attention on you. Unlike any of them, you received a lantern sugar sculpture, instead of the normal animal ones. )
// Bonus:
“Keep it in your pants, Mr. Lantern.”
“Haha. I will most certainly try.”
“We can’t believe we’re seeing [her] flirt with a lantern full time.”
“Ah. It’s been a while since I’ve painted. Because of Lady Paimon’s persistence, I had no choice but to use the skill again. My jewel, I would like to paint a portrait of you. Will you allow me?”
“What is this request all of a sudden? You know you can just take pictures, you know.”
“A marvelous idea. Then, that only means you are willing to pose for me? You will pose in whatever position I’ll say?”
“I— that wasn't my point! I suggested taking a picture so I won't have to stay still for hours while you paint—”
“My, I truly cannot wait for later.”
“Kyryll—! Hey!”
(a/n: anyway, we know what happened after this. for angst lovers, that talk won’t happen anytime soon, i’m afraid. </3)
also i wanted to insert this as a last minute idea or conversation but i figured i'll just say it here, the fic is fine as it is: i think flins would definitely notice his "shortcomings" or the "lack" of time he's spending with his beloved. knowing him, of course, he's going to make up for it. in hindsight, it's evident that his jewel would get lonely because of this - considering flins' job and role in the current archon quest. he totally knows that. however the idea of his beloved admitting and confirming to him it in real time instead makes the idea more realistic, making him truly realize that uh-huh, yes. it really is happening that his beloved is lonely, and this is serious, and yes, that breaks his heart a little. also also it's totally not a wake up call for him, i do not think he is that dense :)
character study?? mayhaps,, i am just a writer,, there are better flins writers and fans out there who can capture his character really well, this is just a personal opinion of mine for him ehehe
related with these fics: one | two but can be read as a standalone! contains female reader c:
For Jahoda, she considers it a huge win when she manages to learn a thing about you.
You, the kind, friendly lady, who has actually gifted her fresh flower seeds from Fontaine before, actually likes reading books!
It is not a discovery that requires the biggest of celebrations, but certainly a moment where Jahoda can leap joyously into the air. You are a mysterious one, since you tend to go from one place to another. Whether you are fishing or not, you certainly have a lot of people who are interested in you. Most specifically, about the life you are living.
She’s sure her boss is one step ahead of those curious folks who want to know about you. ( She’s included in said curious folks. ) Actually, no, scratch that—maybe Boss Nef’s even more steps ahead. She possibly has a multitude of trivia that she can offer, but Boss Nef runs on business. Pay, then she’ll provide what you need. But Jahoda is an employee. And she doesn’t really have the mora.
But the thing is—it’s more fun if it’s Miss Jahoda herself who finds these facts instead of doing it the easy way. Yes, it’s more fun taking the slow route instead of buying information from a stingy info broker. Again, like she has any mora to spare, but the point still stands!
Turns out you just aren’t all about fish and the sea, though she must applaud you for your sheer talent with the fishing rod, but you are also about books! Who knew you’d love the romance genre?!
So when you finally trust Jahoda enough to show the books you’ve been reading, she’s joyous. You can’t really explain to her all the details, but that’s fine! She likes spending time with you, since you’re just so sweet. And even though she’s not much of a reader like you are, she’s thrilled enough to even get to know what the novels are all about! Even if she’ll only read the summary on the back.
One day, Jahoda got a commission. It’s something about this one other bookworm who works in Mimisbrunnr Books who has generously decided to lend you some of her novels. According to her, you two actually exchange letters about book recommendations.
Since you’re always not around, the commission is simple enough: to have said novels be delivered on your doorstep, or to you. By now, the people who know you have accepted that you really are quite hard to catch, since no one knows where you really go, especially during Fridays, so Jahoda takes it upon herself to claim this commission. And besides, it wouldn’t hurt to keep in touch with you once in a while! She does like it whenever she sees your eyes go light in intrigue whenever you take hold of your precious books.
The first stop she goes to is Speranza. You do love a good hotdog, and Jahoda mentally pats herself on the back when she spots a familiar figure. You’re there, with a hotdog on the table, and Jahoda speeds up her pace just to get to you.
Jahoda takes a peek at the books she’s holding. She reads the titles, takes a scan of the covers, before turning to you again. This time, she waves her arm, screaming for your name—“Hey! I’ve got new books this time, and I got it from this one friend of yours who told me that she bought it from Inazuma! Something about Yae Publishing House?!”
When she gets closer, Jahoda sees your head move, and you meet her eyes. There it is, she sees the surprise, curiosity, and interest all at once, and Jahoda giggles, endeared. She’s almost there. “I didn’t know you were quite interested in these kinds of categories, I mean—I’ve seen other stuff, like romancing the Geo Lord from Liyue, or even having a fake relationship with the Duke from the Fortress of Meropide, but this? About the Fae from Snezhnaya? Didn’t quite expect that!”
When Jahoda finally arrives in front of you, she takes a few deep breaths and a look at the novel’s covers again. “Because like, Faery Much Meant To Be? Faery In Love With You? Or even Winging It By Seducing this One Ancient Fae with My Body? That’s kind of wild, especially with the titles, but hey, I’m not one to judge!” Jahoda glances at you again. “Soooo, here! Hope you’ll— hah—wait? Huh? What’s happening? Why are you. . . ?”
Right now, you can’t look at Jahoda in the eye. You have your face covered, and you seem to be glowing in embarrassment. It’s as if you want to bury yourself in the ground. This happened the first time when Miss Jahoda herself caught you eating up those romantic comedy novels, but this was—this was intense. So intense, you’re squirming on your seat.
Miss Nefer mentioned this once, about you being weak to something, or rather, someone. You’d always be conscious or a little shy whenever this someone’s around.
Jahoda has been curious whoever this someone was. And finally, the universe has decided to give her an answer.
There’s a breathy chuckle. From that, Jahoda finally notices one important detail: you are not alone.
“Hello there, Miss Jahoda.”
Oh.
On the other side of the table sits a familiar lightkeeper—that one tall man with the purplish blue hair and big yellow eyes, is accompanying you today. And he seems amused. Very amused, in fact, it’s a little concerning.
“Ah.” Jahoda blinks. She remembers now. The man who asked Aino to fix his lantern a lot of times already. “S-Sir Flins! It’s you. Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your conversation. . .”
“No, it is quite alright. Actually, I do not mind the intrusion—rather, I am quite interested now. Books about fae from the Yae Publishing House, you say?”
Huh. Now this guy wants to know too? Jahoda nods anyway. “Yeah. I mean, it was published there, shipped to here, and taken care of by this one nerdy girl from Mimisbrunnr. Now, she’s lending it to Miss—“
There’s a small thump. You’re looking at Jahoda again with wider eyes, large like the bowl of candies Aino hides from that dumb robot, and repeatedly shaking your head like Ashru whenever he follows the cat toy Jahoda enjoys wagging sideways. Do not continue any longer, is what Jahoda gets from you, and Jahoda wants to mentally beat herself up. Ah. Ah. Oh no! She’s said too much, and of course, she totally understands you’re not comfortable sharing this kind of hobby to anyone else, especially to someone like Flins!
“—So these novels are for you, my lady?” Flins gazes at you, and Jahoda swears she’s seeing things. Is this real? Can Sir Flins look at you that way? He looks so. . . so tender, yet playful, at the same time. For some reason, Jahoda thinks she’s really intruding not on the conversation, but something else. What the heck. “I didn’t know you read these types of genres. If you wish for another companion to enjoy these stories, I’d love to volunteer. In fact, hearing the titles ‘Faery Much Meant To Be’ or even ‘Winging It By Seducing this One Ancient Fae with My Body’ has certainly caught my attention. I wonder how these novels’ plots would unfold.”
This time, you’re shaking your head at him. You seem to be glowing even more now, and Jahoda fears you’re about to implode.
That very second, Jahoda feels like she’s done a mistake.
Flins the Ratnik, on the other hand, is emanating so much delight that Jahoda might as well think he just won the lottery.
zhongli and flins.... the type of men who would have absolutely no issues going down on his knees before asking if you'll allow them to help you into your shoes prior to going out. they make it a habit to do so, actually. tapping the shoe upside-down first to remove any debris, slipping your feet ever so gently into the footwear, lacing up and/or tightening any straps that needs to be fastened... and the last touch, of course, is the soft kiss on your knee followed by a gentle (and proud) “all done, dearest.” 𑣲
In one conversation, Flins encourages the young master Illuga to indulge, even just for a bit. Flins claims that it’s okay to be selfish just once, and to explore what he wants, since Illuga never got to think about it.
“Even an honorable man such as yourself have the right to gratification,” Flins tells him with a small smile. He gratefully accepts Illuga’s offer of a cold drink as he sits outside the captain’s dwelling. “Please live a little, young master.”
Though unsure, perhaps maybe there is one thing that Illuga desires. . .
“Thank you, Sir Flins, I’ll keep that in mind. Actually, the Traveler expressed the same sentiments, so.” Illuga sheepishly scratches the back of his head, before glancing at the side. Slowly. steadily.
Subtly.
At you, from a distance, chattering with other residents in Piramida. Yet you meet his gaze anyway, and you wave at him with a smile.
Illuga sends a smile back, albeit a shy one.
And of course, this doesn’t get unnoticed by the fae.
Oh.
What can a man do when his co–worker wants what he wants, too?
Since I am way too eepy nowadays, I've been thinking of Illuga and Kyryll with a tired fae lover...
I just think it would be so cute to have one of them carry you around in your lantern form while they are on duty. Whether they are helping you slack off on your responsibilities if you were a lightkeeper like them or just sneeking you off with them into the battlefield for a well-deserved bonding time that their too tight schedule would otherwise not allow.
Even if said bonding time mostly consisted of Kyryll humoring your sleepy self by narrating mildly questionable bedtime stories, that may or may not turn into something more suitable to be said between lovers as you nod off in his arms. Or Illuga muttering adoring words to you as he gently caresses the glass of your brightly burning lantern when he thinks that you are too deep in your sleep to hear his not so quiet yearning.
Illuga gets especially flustered when you recount his own words back to him during downtime, which is twice as worse when Kyryll is there to join in on the fun, mercilessly helping you tease him in a joint effort to reduce the captin into a flustered needy mess with words alone.
Sometimes, it's too much for the poor thing that you have to help crack the dilemma that he fnds himself in...
There are instances when the young captain can be seen carrying not just one, but two very unique looking lanterns around. Some people swear they can hear the flames within whisper in a language too alien to be from anywhere near Nod-Krai, but those are few and far in-between: as most get ridiculed for mistaking the crackling of fire for a newborn's gibberish speech.
But rumors do have some truth to them, don't they? Because however you may see it, Illuga does treat that particular lantern of his with too much care. And the way he seems to hug it a little too tightly into himself before leaving it in sir Flins' capable hands, who in turn has a habit of whispering words too quiet to be heard by anyone else into the excitedly twitching fire, does spark questions for the curious.
That being said, a lot of lightkeepers are eccentric individuals. Living most of your life fighting the monstrous beings created by the wild hunt does make one lose a few screws in their head. Getting attached to a pretty looking lantern is hardly something to worry about when compared to other individuals who lost their minds fighting the shadows of the abyss without the light of guidance to show them a way out of the sleepity slope of madness.
After all, obsessing with that very light can't be as bad as the darkness trying to swallow it, no?
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