congrats on 143 followers ahh its such a creative event! may i ask for 7. nobody compares (you are my one and only) - scaramouche?
tearing me apart (143 event drabble)
pairing: singer!scara x manager!reader (gn)
warnings: inaccurate portrayal of music artist management, snarky scara, slightly ooc scara, mentions of pain relief pills being taken for a headache, distaste for screaming, a pinch of “not like the others” only because boy band music is full of it
a/n: this is entirely built on late night jamming to one direction and taylor swift and i am not afraid to admit this!!! i wanted to focus on the “charmer” part of scara because i feel like he’d be more inclined to banter with someone who’s been with him for as long as manager reader (also tysm for requesting for the event! i am so sorry that this took much longer than anticipated, but i hope you like this!)
songs: nobody compares and kiss you - one direction
From the very first day you met Scaramouche, you had known you would despise him with every fiber of your being.
His fellow singers under the label were sweet, kind, and even generous (despite being a little mischievous at times) - yet just being in the vicinity of such a deplorable man makes you want to turn in your two weeks notice and dip.
It’s already been a year. You’re in for the long haul.
“You’re one angry little man, you know that?”
The man in question simply raises an eyebrow at you from his chair as he fiddles with his microphone and the last-minute embellishments you’d authorized. “And yet, you’re still here.”
“With great reluctance, believe me.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and wishing you’d brought some-
“Here.”
Huh. While a year of working with the man made you feel batshit insane some days, at least it gave you some perks.
You caught the bottle of pain reliever he chucked in your direction, along with the subsequent water bottle he hurled with it.
“Hey, you didn’t get smacked in the face like an idiot this time!”
“Shut up.”
The bottle rattles as you drop two into your hand, quickly washing them down with a sip from the water. “Thanks.” You mutter, checking your watch for curtain call. He stands, scanning the cuffs at his wrist and brushing invisible lint off his pants.
“You’re on in fifteen. Be nice this time.”
Scaramouche musses his hair, giving you his signature sarcastic smirk. “Are you finally gonna watch instead of being in the curtain? Watching my back all the time makes you seem so boring.”
“I usually have to be behind the curtain,” You groan, standing back up from the reprieve you quickly miss. “That’s what happens when you don’t act nice.”
“Aw.” He tilts his head, putting on a puppy-eyed pout. “I thought it was because you just couldn’t stand to be-“
Your palms connect with his shoulders, twisting his body to face the door as you usher him out. “It’s ten now.”
His sputtering is almost comical when you slam the door of his own dressing room in his face.
——————
You hate to admit it, but he’s good.
Scaramouche is a natural for the stage, playing up the angsty bad-boy persona he likes so much to make the crowd scream for a quirk of his lips. He leans back to back with his guitarist - Heizou, as you’ve had to learn, loves to flourish the strings as he harmonizes with the singer.
You lean back in your chair, wincing slightly from the high shrieks of some girls nearby. The pain reliever seems to be winding down from top effectiveness.
The song ends with a riff, earning unanimous yelling from his audience. He dips into a bow, running a hand through his hair and winking to the big screen camera. More screaming. How wonderful.
“Thank you for your enthusiasm!” He grins, raising an eyebrow as he laughs a bit. “Being able to stand here like this is a dream come true. I’m so thankful for each and every one of you!”
He makes a heart with his hands, and you try to avoid acknowledging the slight tug at your heartstrings. You know he really does care about his fans, despite how he acts…off the stage.
“Now,” He motions for the crowd to settle down. “For this final song, I want to dedicate this one to the people who are incomparable-“
The yelling reaches a new high.
“-For the people who can’t be replaced. This one’s for you.”
And when he points up to the section of the audience you sit in, you call those five seconds you wish he was talking to you a reprieve.
congrats!! can i have "love like you" with xiao pls for your event
thank you!!!!
if I could (143 event drabble)
pairing: xiao x gn!reader
warnings: lots of introspection, a sprinkle of existential crisis, ending up to interpretation, implied pre-established relationship, xiao thinks very highly of the reader and feels unworthy, possibly ooc xiao, reader is asleep
a/n: the idea for this slapped me across the face and begged me to verbalize it so here we are :,) thank you for requesting for my event! also, i’m traveling rn and haven’t had the time to play much either so…i also don’t have the best connection, so i don’t even know if this will post! save me lmao
songs: love like you - rebecca sugar and people watching - conan gray
The stars shine bright from Xiao's perch at Wangshu Inn.
A breeze floats by in the night air, ruffling the leaves of the trees and swaying the hanging lanterns lining the path. Anemo runs through his fingertips, coalescing into a glowing ball that floats just above his shoulder. The wind whispers to him on this night, carrying the words of mortals throughout Liyue.
They rarely call his name these days - and although the glimpse of progress on the horizon is long-coming, something in the silence feels much worse to confront. Their voices steadily grow in his ears, the ball of teal green Anemo turning darker with every echoed sorrow.
His sisters, masks shattering with streaming tears of ichor and their pain-filled cries.
His brothers, lost to darkness and fear in the weight of their sins.
There is no Dihua flute this time, no turning back or running from the inevitable. It’s strange, how easily Xiao settles with knowing that his persistent resistance to karmic debt could disappear in an instant.
Perhaps, Morax was right to fear erosion.
You shift sleepily in his grasp, as if you can sense the darkness that slips through the cracks in his own mask while you lay dormant. He freezes, the ball of shadowed Anemo flickering out of sight when his concentration switches.
His mind is thankful for the reprieve, making sure you’re as comfortable as you can be while laying on (essentially) wood. Adjusting the blanket, his stance - anything he can do to keep you safe.
(The one thing he knows he can do.)
The darkness is incomparable to the light you bring, with every smile and every minute you spend on him and his…reluctance.
A planet, forever orbiting the brightest star, but never able to close the gap. Words escape him, a being made to instill fear lost in the face of someone unafraid.
Xiao begs the cadence in his mind to silence, even if part of it comes from his heart instead.
And yet, he presses your form into his grip, electing to rock softly in the breeze.
(Here, the stars observe the ever-vigilant yaksha, bidding him the gift of rest so that he may watch over his beloved - even in dreams.)
hi!! could i ask 4 number eight favorite crime with kazuha please?? cuz hes yk.. kinda a criminal? thank you so much if you do my request!! <3
things i did (143 event drabble)
pairing: kazuha x gn!reader (wanderers, pre-storyline)
warnings: angst, feelings of inadequacy and being unused to love on both sides of a relationship, possible commitment issues on reader’s part, communication issues but technically they just don’t talk about it but understand, possibly ooc kazuha but this is supposed to be part of his character development, a pinch of comfort at the end,
a/n: this genuinely gave me pain to write. angst. and if you’re asking yourself how this fits in with the event theme, i want to say that this represents the kind of love that only shows itself proper when it’s lost / right person wrong time (GOD IT HURTS JUST TO TYPE IT 😔) also i kinda wrote this in bits and late at night so forgive the coherence in some places :,)
The fact that neither you nor Kazuha are used to this kind of love is the bittersweet truth hidden behind each tender embrace.
You can see his hesitation, oh so easy to find when it mirrors your own in the wake of sweet nothings, in linked fingers that stop just short of intertwined and ignoring the fitful nightmares you take turns waking for.
Silent tears stream down his cheeks, a quiet kind of sorrow that only grows as time passes. Your thumbs brush the mourning dew away as it sparkles in the sunlight - something picturesque yet ill-fitting for two wanderers.
Kazuha is bound by his wanderlust; it is his yearning to see the expanse of the world at his fingertips that attracted you to him on that fateful day, and it is that same feeling that splits you into two.
Now, he rests deeply in his cot on the Alcor, breath after breath fading away with the sway of the ship and flickering lamplight. Your fingers card through his loose hair as he slumbers, smoothing the streaks of red and pale blonde across the blanket you share.
(“If you’re still planning on going, you should do it while you still can.” Beidou whispers in your ear, inclining her head at the faraway Kazuha. “You’ll always have a spot on the Alcor, if that’s what you want.”)
…What do you want?
Shouldn’t it be this? This momentary lapse in time, this spare break in the turning wheel where you can simply rest in the hold of someone you-
Ah. That’s it.
You’re scared, aren’t you?
Your hands retract from Kazuha’s, tracing the space as if his touch has burned you.
He’s just as aware of it as you are, and yet this facsimile still persists.
(“You are what appears when the word ‘serendipity’ comes to mind.” He murmurs, tracing patterns and letters into your skin that he has yet to speak aloud.)
He’s still in your grasp, and yet he’s already gone.
You shouldn’t have to convince yourself that this is for the best.
But, before your heart can speak, your head has already made way to mark the end.
———
“For my dear Kazuha,” He reads, ruby eyes stinging at their corners. “I’m sorry.”
Fingers that once stopped just short trace the lines of your script, following line after line of harsh strokes and wrinkled dots in the ink.
“You, of all, understand the quandaries that plague wanderers, no? To follow the wind, and to be truly free, is to understand and release the burdens that haunt you first.”
He finds it within himself to curse those words, letters that fell from his tongue with little thought.
“I despise the fact that I couldn’t say this in person,” Your voice echoes in his ears. “But if I saw you, I don’t think I’d be able to leave.”
He can feel your hands against his face, yet the tears still carve their path.
“Neither of us are at the point where we can stop searching, traveling, yearning for the answers to the questions that follow us to every port.”
How did he not see? How could he be so blind?
“I know you well enough that you must be beating yourself up about this, but the answer is plain and simple; you would regret it for the rest of your life if you found yourself settled right now.”
A sob escapes his throat, stifled with the hand you rewrapped only last night.
“Now, I can’t linger too long-“ He has to blink away the haze, begging your words to last until he can find you again. “-But I do want you to know that our paths are sure to meet again. If not, I’ll make sure of it.”
Kazuha’s voice echoes your final line - “To you, my hope, be well and stay true.”
(Oh, how he hates telling you later that you were right, stumbling through the words as you brush away his tears with a smile brighter than sunlight.)
if this is still available, tightrope + kazuha please? :o
hand in my hand (143 event drabble)
pairing: kazuha x gn!reader (inazuman and of high standing)
warnings: light description of injury (burns) and weapon use/training, somewhat messy exploration of kazuha lore, mostly written pre-2.6, arranged marriage (broken, but neither are particularly adverse to the union)
a/n: a menuki is a sword charm, often embedded and wrapped into the hilt of a sword, and i did end up googling this part so i apologize if it’s inaccurate! i had a majority of this planned before the new kazuha lore in the festival but i tried to include some of it…the kazuha main inside me yelling rn
songs: tightrope - from the movie “the greatest showman” and king of my heart - taylor swift
The first time you saw him, he was the son your parents introduced as your future fiancé; the young heir of the failing Kaedehara clan at their last resort of marrying into a more prosperous family to replenish that which was stolen from them.
You and he were the same height, mere children carrying the weights of entire families on your backs but joined through a single tentative smile.
“Kaedehara Kazuha,” You whispered to yourself that night in flickering lamplight. “I hope we can be friends.”
The next time you see him, he takes the menuki you offer with awe in his face and a gleam in his eye - his training sword is young, but sharp and bright with vigor as he swings against the straw dummies.
Even though the metal edges dig into his reddened palms, he feels comfort in the shining animal bound into the hilt.
Years later full of friendship and secret camaraderie, you catch him waving goodbye as he makes his way onto the morning boat out of Inazuma City; no longer the singular young master, but simply a wanderer in search of the secrets of nature’s call.
He settles in easily with his lack of luggage at the highest vantage point, and it is equally easy to pick you out of the crowd when you wave so vigorously to get his attention.
“You’d better write to me.”
He laughs, patting your arms that held him so tight.
“I’d go insane without hearing from you.”
“I perish the thought.” He whispered into the crown of your head.
He leaves his home in Inazuma City, and finds himself wondering why it is your eyes he thinks of when asked of his origins.
His embrace is the tight one on the third meeting, tears wetting your shoulder as you soothe his sobs; Kazuha’s soul is weary, tattered with grief after the death of a friend he held dear.
You have to pry the vision husk out of his shaking hand, and wrap the burned skin with a tenderness he feels he no longer deserves.
When he begs you to leave with him, you cannot help but throw caution to the sea winds and take the leap.
“As long as we’re together.” He whispers, taking your hands and pressing them to his lips in a soft kiss. “I just want to be with you.”
Sweet nothings fill the gap of time, cemented like glue with the fondness and feelings you’ve nurtured to blossom like the maple seeds he had given you in your young years.
Perhaps one day you’ll come to regret leaving the safety of your old life; a blurring monotony sitting peacefully in the lands of eternity.
But, as his fingers intertwine with yours in the swaying waves, you thank eternity for giving you both the capacity to change.
may i have xiao + the hidden feelings prompt (also can the reader be an adeptus or yaksha if i can ask that) thank you and have a great day!!
try to keep it hidden (143 event drabble)
pairing: xiao x gn!reader
warnings: modern au, distaste of valentine's day, brief mention of free drinks in a club setting, xiao and reader are roommates, slightly ooc xiao probably, food mentions (cookie mix and snacks), domestic xiao on his day off
a/n: i hope roommate xiao is still ok!!! i tried writing it as adeptus/yaksha reader but it didn’t flow as well for some reason? if you want, you can also request this kind of concept when i reopen my inbox for requests!
songs: i won’t say i’m in love - from the movie “hercules”
Xiao has very strong feelings about romance.
(He’d rather just say he hates it outright, but that would just be lying to himself.)
You like to call him the “Ebenezer Scrooge” of Valentine’s Day, poking at the frown on his face whenever the season of pink and glitter hearts graces everything in sight.
He waves off the inevitable free drink from a particularly brave group of girls, shies away from the cards, and even starts changing his daily route just to avoid the giant heart man brandishing samples of equally obnoxious candy for a nearby cafe.
The holiday is an exhausting affair. Still, he finds himself wondering how you feel about all the pomp and circumstance.
Did you…want something?
But it’s not his place, isn’t it?
You’re just his roommate. Co-habitant. Friend. Person he knows.
(“Person he wants to know better,” something inside his chest whispers.)
The day of roses dawns with little fanfare, with him up early like usual and two warm cups brewing as the sun casts its golden shine into your shared apartment. He blinks the sleep from his eyes as he sips at his mug - a plain forest green with a black lip. You shuffle in a few minutes after, taking the matching cup from his proffered grip.
See? He knows you; “a perfectly acceptable amount,” he adds to his train of thought. There’s no need to look for other things to learn, other things to see or find or (stars forbid) ask you, out of whatever ridiculous lack of sense he is experiencing. All he needs to know is how you take your drinks, and what foods to keep stocked.
On his afternoon grocery run, he picks up those snacks you really like and some cookie mix for that thing at work you have later this week. He decides not to think about what this means, and lets the impulse to take that last bouquet of flowers from the display win.
His routine is intermittently broken throughout the day. Xiao ignores how these lapses are due to matters relating to you. He almost washes the reds with the whites.
You reenter the apartment to him busy in the kitchen, something sizzling in a pan and another pot boiling away. “Did you-“
“I already ordered food.”
“Is that-“
“I went out and got stuff to make Almond Tofu.”
While his abruptness would make most bristle, you simply shrug, and remind him to call for you if he needs any help with it.
“And the flowers?”
He freezes, his steady stir faltering ever-so slightly. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“…They were the last ones there.”
Xiao glances over his shoulder briefly, lingering on you and the (rather obviously Valentine’s Day themed) flowers.
He goes back to stirring, ignoring the voice in his head telling him to keep looking. “You can take them. It’s not like I’ll use them for anything.”
You wish he could see the smile on your face as you set the stems in a nearby vase.
(Xiao has strong feelings about romance - but his feelings for you seem to be getting stronger with every sunrise and sunset.)
could i get gone,gone,gone with diluc pls thx, and congrats on 143 proud of you <3 - 🍈
for you (143 event drabble)
pairing: diluc x gn!reader (three times diluc helped you out and one time you helped him)
warnings: rude gesture, angst bc i can never write diluc without a little bit of pain, platonic kaeya friendship!!! slight suspense at the beginning, description of sweat on skin (from sparring/working out)
a/n: love u melon <3 i hope i did your boy some justice
songs: gone, gone, gone - phillip phillips and this love - taylor swift
(I)
“GET BACK HERE!”
“Run!”
You gasped, grasping Diluc’s hand and dashing through the towering stacks of vines on all sides. He faintly wonders if Elzer will be concerned at finding his dropped wood sword as you drag him behind you, stumbling over roots and tangled green.
“But-“
Quite quickly, you tug him behind a tree in the nearby grove and press a finger to your lips.
“Please.”
The adrenaline in his system from the sprint has him panting, red eyes meeting yours in strange curiosity.
He finds himself nodding along, putting a matching finger to his own mouth in solidarity.
Rough steps crunch on the fallen leaves, seeming to come from all directions.
The momentary silence seems safe, but…
“Got you!”
“Kaeya!” You screech as the blue-haired teen doubles over in laughter. “You menace of a boy!”
The “menace” smirks, shiny blue eyes glinting with smugness at winning the impromptu chase. “I told you I could catch you.”
“That doesn’t mean you can chase me whenever you like!” Your cheeks heat with embarrassment. “That conversation was WEEKS ago!”
“You should be more prepared, then.”
“…I will smack you upside the head with my glove.”
That line lets Diluc’s held-back laugh escape, a bubble popping in his throat to let joy meet the autumn air.
You freeze, as if just realizing who you had brought with you. With a slight cough, you turn to the red-haired boy and sheepishly grin. “Sorry about that mess.”
“Don’t worry.” He smiles, inclining his head towards Kaeya. “I live with him. Mess is a good word.”
“Hey!”
(The first time you met Diluc Ragnvindr in person, you wondered how such a sweet boy could exist.)
(II)
You groan, flat on your back and cringing from the sweat on your face. Breath leaves your lungs in short bursts, using the last of your strength to keep a hand up and block the beating sun.
“This is disgusting.”
“Why yes, you are disgusting.”
Your middle finger “surprisingly” makes its way upright, flashing in what seems like Kaeya’s general vicinity.
“Well, that’s an interesting reaction.”
Diluc raises an eyebrow as Kaeya points at your near-dead state, bringing a finger to swivel at his temple and mouthing “crazy.”
“Kaeya’s calling me crazy, isn’t he?”
“Good intuition.” The redhead makes his way over to you, lowering slightly to cover the sun and offer his shadow. “Need a hand?”
“Please.”
(Knight training is difficult, but at least you have help.)
(III)
The leather-bound journal sits open on his lap, yellowed pages dimly lit by the wood fire he had scrounged up.
Today marks six months since Mondstadt was no longer home.
The twinkling of a crystalfly nearby almost makes his head lift, but knowing he’ll find a deep green instead of teal feels like a punch to the gut.
And yet, Diluc finds himself writing in one of the only things he’d brought with him; a slim book of blank paper, bound in soft leather with his initials embedded in the corner. It was an impulsive decision at best, but it didn’t feel right to leave without it.
“A notebook can be your best friend in any situation,” He murmurs, tracing over the imprint with his now-callused hands. “So long as you have a mission to complete.”
He taps his fingertips on the cover, then begins to write.
(His letters to you are simple - homesickness for a person is anything but.)
(IV)
Diluc shuffles through the ever-revolving empty glasses, filling and refilling and shaking up drinks with muscle memory. Patron after patron, hour by hour, until he’s finally at the last person for this round.
“What would you like?”
“…How about some company?”
He nearly drops the empty glass he had been cleaning, whirling around only to catch himself and attempt to act casual.
His arms felt awkwardly placed.
They were.
A smile danced across your lips as you took one of the empty seats at the bar, eyes glittering in the lamplight as you eyed his newfound blush.
“You looked a little drained, Master Diluc. I just thought I would offer-“
“Yes!” He blurts out, before stumbling both from his odd perch and over his words to recover what little pride he has left. “I mean, hm, yes. I would like to have some company.”
(As he walks back from your house on the path to the Winery, he can’t seem to stop himself from smiling so widely that his cheeks hurt.)
Can I request “When he sees me” with Diluc for the event?
Congrats on 143 followers!
set in motion (143 event drabble)
pairing: superhero!diluc x gn!journalist!reader
warnings: modern au, pov blending, less emphasis on the romance but still definitely romance, diluc is basically batman, childhood friends to lovers who?!?! this is the product of listening to super yuppers, watching ratatouille, and vaguely revisiting my [redacted] phase smh
a/n: and here it is!!! i promised i would finally finish these and this concept smacked me across the face and kissed me on the cheek….they are on a mansard roof btw, bc i love those and they’re perfect for midnight stargazing :)
songs: when he sees me - waitress and super yuppers - wjsn chocome
You’re not one for games of chance.
Despite all your protesting, and regardless of all your superstition, it feels like Lady Luck just has a personal vendetta against you - and instead of taking it out on the rest of your life, she seems to find new ways to make your life feel like that boulder in that one movie chasing the guy out of the cave.
Case in point…
“Is this seat taken?”
A somewhat familiar baritone fills the night air, and you find yourself giving a small smile at the voice. If you were to look back, you’d see the upward twitch of his own lips.
“It’s not like I own the roof, Knight.”
The man in question lets out a small huff as he settles onto the blanket you’d been resting on. The roof of your apartment building is slanted slightly and much darker than you’d prefer, but stable and offered a good view of the city skyline. You gazed off into the distance, eying the lights and cars amongst the bustling people.
Swiveling your head slightly, your eyes graze over the cloaked hero, mask in place as usual among swaths of dark clothing and covert armor. Even though you’d been his point of media contact for the better part of your time in the city, it was still hard to believe that the Darknight Hero didn’t have better things to do than to sit next to you and people watch.
(He did, but the idea of sitting with you was much more appealing.)
“You do though.” He speaks casually with you, instead of the biting formality he shares with the rest of the world. “You live on the top floor, so you do own the roof.” His side profile is fuzzy with the mask, but you suppose that’s the point of the ensemble.
Your laugh is a bright lantern in the abyss at this height, a beacon his eyes can’t help but follow. “Perhaps.”
Silence and white noise takes the place of conversation, a comforting feeling in the brisk wind and moonlight.
Despite the uncertainty in your throat, the question you’ve been pondering on and off slips through your filter.
“Do you have someone important in your life, Knight?”
He balks, and you stumble to recover the blunder. “Not that I’m fishing for information! I would never do that.” Your hands wave in mock surrender. “-Not after the trust you put in me to be your contact.”
“….What prompted that question?”
You can’t seem to remember the reason why either, and yet something inside you urges to continue.
“Curiosity.” It’s simple, but the only way you can describe it properly. “All this work to make the city a safe place; must have a reason for it, no? A damsel for the knight?”
The undignified snort he lets out makes your face feel much warmer than it should.
“I didn’t take you as one for romance tropes.” Skepticism tints his tone as he leans back into his palms, giving you a tilt of his head. “The world has enough of those in the celebrity tabloids.”
Your momentary quiet worries his nerves.
“I…” You begin, voice at a softer whisper in the wake of his words. “I recently got back in touch with a friend from way back. We’re supposed to go out for drinks with a few other mutual friends tomorrow.”
His attentive eyes trace your features, from the squeeze of your fists to the furrow of your brow. “If you’re already going out for drinks, I’d say you don’t have to be stressed.”
“Not helping, Knight.”
“Then what is it you look so terrified at?”
You scoff at his incredulous tone. “I am not terrified, just…mildly fearful.” The clenched hands you’d been holding fast to slowly loosened with your words. “It’s been so long since the last time we actually saw each other, much less talked to each other.”
A picture flashes in your mind: shorter by just an inch, a head full of fiery red hair and hands grasping a toy sword with the other locked in yours.
“I’m not the same person I was when we parted ways. Don’t think he is either.” The memory makes your heart hurt. “I don’t like guessing games.”
“Seems like you care for him a lot, then.”
“He’s just…” You trail off, before the right word finally comes to your tongue. “He’s someone I’ve known to love for so long that I don’t remember how to not love him. And yet, after not seeing him for so long, I don’t know if there’ll be something left to love.”
Leaving his life when you did surely drained whatever light was left in those ruby red eyes of his.
“Anyways,” You sigh, rubbing at your own tired eyes and glancing over to the masked hero. “It’s not really something important for a superhero, just-“
A sharp beep rings out from his belt, cutting you off and drawing both of your heads.
Even through the mask, he manages to look endearingly apologetic. “Sorry about that.”
“Is that disappointment I hear, Knight?”
Your teasing tone makes him duck his head. “Just hoping it isn’t another group of teenagers messing around.”
“…I do, by the way.” He pauses where he stands, tall shadow casting across the roof as he fastens some sort of gadget on his wrist. “I have someone to fight these battles for. I was their knight first, after all.”
And with a simple wave, he leaps into the inky dark - leaving you to the mercy of the stars.
(At least, until he meets you for coffee the next day.)
Hi! For your event, may I request "Line wiithout a Hook" + Zhongli?
sweet sunny skies (143 event drabble)
pairing: zhongli/rex lapis x gn!reader
warnings: mildly ooc zhongli, pre archon war + guizhong/guili plains, probably not lore accurate, don’t read this if u haven’t finished the mondstadt archon quest!!
a/n: i finished this at 2 am my time n i LOVED it thank you for requesting this for my event! there are currently two spots left so come get em :)
songs: line without a hook and lover’s oath (27:28)
“He is quite dense, you know?”
You jolt from your stare at the man standing with Cloud Retainer and one of the newer adepti to the ethereal woman next to you. Her laugh is soft, tinkling like the tiny bells mortals like to shake during their celebrations. “…My lady, I-“
“There is a reason he and I are allies, but he is the one that runs headfirst into the fray.” Guizhong’s hands are deft as she takes the basket of glaze lilies from your arm and lowers you to the ground beneath a tree you’ve stopped at. “God of rocks, indeed. That hard head of his is a prime example.”
She and you share a smile, and she motions for you to rest while she fiddles with the stems of her flowers. You hesitate at first, but settle next to her with a quiet huff.
The wind is cool while under the shade of the Sandbearer trees, and you take this time to sit back and breathe in the sweet scent of the lilies around you. Glaze lilies are rife in the plains, and a favorite of the local ladies due to Guizhong’s care and upkeep. They flourish unlike any other cultivation, and it is a beautiful sight on days like these.
“He would be lost without you.” Her eyes twinkle with mischief when your arms buckle and you end up staring at the clouds instead. “Oh, don’t be like that; I may be the brains, but you’re Rex Lapis’ right hand for a reason. One that even I was never given a clear answer on.”
“It was nothing special!”
“A rare sentiment that you and he disagree on.” The blooms in her hand are vibrant as rays of light patch through the leaves above. “I know the look in your eye, just as I knew the look in his when we first met.”
“And what, pray tell, may that be?”
Instead of offering you an answer, she sits you up to place the fruits of her labor over your head; a crown of glaze lilies, interwoven stems reinforced with smaller flowers to create a stunning array across your hair.
A low chuckle from behind makes you yelp. “Rex! Don’t scare me like that, stars above-“
His amber eyes are bright with mirth as he sits by the tree (Guizhong notes with a smile, as he sits much closer to you than near her).
“I thought you wished for me to be lighter, dear friend.”
You gently smack his arm, rolling your eyes with a sigh on your lips. “I did not mean for you to be light-footed, I merely wished you would stop keeping a blank face with mortals. You used to frighten the children!”
“Oh, I used to scare them?”
“Do not even try to pull this around, Lord Morax-“
She is struggling not to laugh as she brings a hand in between you two, shoulders shaking. “Enough, children.”
