[kinich x fem!reader], pixelprincess!au
as a princess of natlan, you're rather interested experiencing snezhnayan customs during your visits.
snowball fights just happen to be at the top of your list.
The haunting glow of Snezhnaya's skies only accentuates the blanketing snow that falls quietly over the land, an endless sea of snowflakes that dot your hair and skin. Ever since stepping off the train, the terrain has been unfamiliar.
The ground no longer rocks beneath you, but it doesn't make traversing any easier. Snow gives easily under your shoes, you find, almost too easily. Kinich coughs behind his hand when you slip for the third time, quickly adjusting his expression in time for you to whip around with a sour glare.
"I fail to see what is so funny," you huff. You want to stomp through the snow, but you can't—your shoes aren't made for it, and it had been your idea to wander off the path in the first place. After all, a princess of Natlan is not born of ice, and this is a rare opportunity to experience it.
"Nothing is funny," Kinich replies smoothly as he walks past. Annoyingly enough, he hasn't slipped a single time, as much as you keep wishing that he would. "Though I will say, Princess, I can't imagine why wandering through the frozen forest would be something you consider thrilling."
It had been only recently that you'd been offered the opportunity to travel to Snezhnaya on a diplomatic trip. Much to Kinich's dismay, you'd leaped at the opportunity, danger and distance be damned.
Despite the unbelievably painful freezing temperatures, you find yourself enthralled by Snezhnaya's natural beauty and landscape. It's a different kind of picturesque, one that you could never find back home. As if to illustrate your point, you sink unsteadily to your knees, gathering snow in your mittens.
"To be surrounding by snow is something you can only experience in Snezhnaya," you say, though your guard does not grace you with a response.
He doesn't seem as interested in sight-seeing as you are. If anything, he seems on edge, eyes narrowed at every turn and a permanent hand resting on the hilt of his blade.
Even with your hands covered, the sensation of molded snow is unfamiliar and slow. Kinich is stopped ahead, inspecting one of the towering trees nearby as if calculating the quickest way to scale it. Before you can stop yourself, you wind up and throw with all your might.
A snowball fight, one of your textbooks had called it. A popular pastime amongst Snezhnayan children.
The ice soars smoothly through the air, sailing past the trees in a perfect arc towards the back of Kinich's head. That'll show him, you think mischievously. He thinks he can laugh at me and get away with it? Well, he has another thing coming—
Kinich takes a single step to the left without so much as flinching, and the snowball explodes against the trunk of the tree in front of him.
You freeze.
You expect him to turn around. You expect him to scold you, or roll his eyes, or tell you to get back on the train so you can continue on toward Snezhnograd. But he doesn't do any of those things—he simply hums, continuing to stare up at the foliage as if nothing had ever happened.
Grumbling, you gather another snowball. This time, Kinich ducks beneath it, whistling.
"Tall tree, this one," he calls over his shoulder. You can practically hear the smile in his voice.
"Kinich," you warn.
At the sound of his name, he finally turns, only to swiftly dodge the next snowball that you launch at him. He looks rather amused at your attempts, even as he walks back toward you.
"Kinich," you whine, the ice beginning to sting at your fingertips. "Let me hit you just once. Please?"
He brushes at the fur on his cloak, raising a brow. "Why should I do that?"
"This is what people do in Snezhnaya! When will I ever get this chance again?"
It's not often that you leave Natlan's borders—in fact, it's almost frustratingly rare. This chance may not come again for another ten years, and that's if you're lucky. As if recognizing your plight, Kinich's expression softens.
You take his sigh of resignation as an invitation.
He doesn't dodge the next snowball that you throw—it hits him squarely in the chest, though it does nothing to hinder his advance toward you. The next one explodes against his shoulder, then the next against his knee. Though you're throwing with all your strength, you'd think that it was a mere breeze that was brushing against him based on his lack of reaction.
You manage to hit him three more times before you're standing face to face, half a snowball gathered between your shaking fingers. Kinich stares down at you, ice gathering at the ends of his dark hair.
"You're cold," he observes quietly.
You suck in a breath when he extends a hand, the heat of his fingers curling over your collarbone. He's fixing your cloak, you realize—somehow, in the heat of your endeavor, the clasp had come undone. Among the freezing wind, he's unnaturally warm, even warmer than the thick fur that he settles over your shoulders.
The snow scatters away from your open hand.
His touch has always been gentle—whether he's tying a loose ribbon on your dress or removing the shoes from your aching feet after a long day, Kinich has never treated you roughly. However, in this moment, you almost wish it didn't feel so intimate.
"I'm not a child," you say with a scoff. It comes out sharper than intended, and you hesitate to correct yourself before Kinich replies—
"You're not, but you are the princess of my nation. And that means it's my responsibility to keep you safe and happy."
He says it so matter-of-factly that you're not quite sure how to react. He's sworn his commitment to protecting you a thousand times over, but it's different to hear him say it at this proximity.
"Happy?" you splutter, hoping to mask your embarrassment. "Since when?"
A smile tugs at Kinich's lip as he finishes adjusting your cloak. "I don't think I'd let just anyone toss ice at me for their personal amusement."
A snowflake lands daintily on his nose—you watch it melt against his skin as your fingers curl white-knuckled into your skirt. Kinich steps past you, saying something about returning to the train, but you find yourself frozen in place for a moment longer.
You've always known you were special to him, but that role was simply decided by your birthright—nothing more, and nothing less. You'd be a fool to convince yourself otherwise.
"Don't tease me," you call out before hesitantly trudging after him.
"I wouldn't dream of it." Kinich pulls the hood of his cloak down, shaking the snow from his hair. He pauses midstep to stretch a hand toward you, then nods back toward the path. "Now come on—next time you fall, I might not wait around for you."
He's unbelievably irritating. And yet, your face blooms with heat when you feel his hand curl tighter against yours.
—genre/warnings: slow burn, fluff and angst, blood and injury, death, kinich is a hired killer i cannot express this enough there is murder and violence immediately in this fic, he literally tries to kill you, more warnings may be added later!
—taglist. comment/leave an ask and i'll add you <3
—summary.
life has a funny way of landing you in the worst possible situations time and time again— and death has a funny way of always chasing after you, but missing only by a hair.
or, kinich has to kill you and you set out to make his job as difficult as possible.
summary. kinich may be the friendly neighborhood spider-man, but his cat still preferred his pretty neighbor.
— content. 6.6k words · spider-man!kinich x f!reader · university au · sfw · ajaw is a cat · zen'in naoya is the bad guy · threats of violence + implications of potential sexual harassment but NOTHING HAPPENS !! · kinich and reader are lwk pining for one another · they're kinda neighbors · proofread while i'm half asleep.
— foreword. this came to me outta nowhere and i wrote it in basically one sitting with a dinner break, all while watching mister zyox grind that summer event. this !! art is how i picture his suit (i love this art im obsessed !!) and also inspired by this !!! edit. i don't love the ending of this, but i got really tired, so yeah. might do another part to this one day, but idk about that yet.
— read on ao3.
— art credit. junebuart on twt.
you were pretty sure that he thought you did not know about his late-night activities, the things he was spending his nights on, or even his weekend on.
it was yet another late night in your warm apartment, your eyes drifting closed as you were strewn across your sofa. the television was still playing the random youtube video you had thrown on, a blanket hanging half off your body as you let out another sigh. the lights were dimmed and not bothering your eyes as they had earlier, but the book sitting in your hand was annoying you endlessly, and you cursed yourself for leaving studying for this late. you knew that you should have just studied while working earlier, but your coworkers' tales of their failed dates were far too interesting, and you couldn't help but laugh along to their stories, forgetting all about the book waiting for you in your bag.
"ugh, ajaw, why did you let me do this to myself?" you grumbled in annoyance, letting your hand run over his unique fur as the cat, who frankly resembled a little dragon, stretched out in your lap. "why didn't you make me read this shit earlier?"
the little black cat with green and yellow highlights in his fur yawned on your lap, cuddling into your lap and attempting to knock the book out of your hand, sending a laugh bubbling out of you as you held your book away from the cat's sharp claws. your fingers found that sweet spot he loved, meowing pleased as you melted back into the sofa—the studying could wait, but ajaw being this cuddly and soft could not.
ajaw was not actually your cat, contrary to what one might think. he belonged to your neighbor, who often had business to attend to in the evenings and also on the weekend. he wasn't the person who lived on either side of you, but he lived a few doors down in the student apartments. your university was generous and understood that many students would need privacy, so they built buildings with apartments for students to reside in while they were enrolled in the university. some lived together; others lived alone for privacy reasons. you had elected to live on your own, mostly for convenience, as you'd often woken up your friends, who you lived with in a dorm for your first years, when you were headed out for your part-time job. ajaw somehow always managed to escape the apartment of his owner, running to your door to scratch at the door until you let him in.
some days you had stumbled upon ajaw already inside your apartment when returning home, wondering how he had gotten inside when you knew you'd locked the door, but not thinking too far about it, instead relishing in the sensation of him following you around.
the book gradually slammed closed in your hands as you let out a hefty yawn, stretching your arms well above your head. ajaw jumped off your lap and leisurely strolled towards your open bedroom door, already prepared to make himself mighty comfortable on your bed. after placing the book on the small coffee table, the television was turned off, and so were the lights around your home. dressed in your pajamas, you hoped that nobody else would be strolling the secured hallways of your building as you sneaked into the hallways, sliding a note under the door that was all-too familiar before you ran back to your own place—after all, the owner probably knew where his cat had gone, but you still wanted to inform him.
back in your own apartment, you made sure to lock the door tightly and check that everything was off before heading into your bedroom. your phone was plugged into the charger and placed on the nightstand; the window was already open, and once you'd brushed your teeth and made sure all your alarms were on, you flicked off the lights and tumbled into your warm bed, snuggling into the soft sheets whilst ajaw stretched out at the foot of your bed, also relishing in your soft sheets.
and perhaps also fulfilling one of his owner's unspoken but most heartfelt wishes of all: keeping you safe.
kinich malipo, often just referred to as kinich, knew exactly where his annoying but loyal companion was. swinging back in through his window, he thanked the archons above that his request for the apartment at the very end of the building had been accepted, allowing him to utilize the hidden window sitting in the alley between his building and the next to make his entrance and exit in the time of need. his mask was removed the second he was back inside his own bedroom, the windows now covered as kinich let out a sigh. it really was not easy being the friendly neighborhood spider-man, especially in a land like natlan, where there were as many villains as there were people.
the black and emerald green suit, gently adorned with yellow detailing and the yellow spider icon on the chest, had become part of kinich's life, always on hand for him to use whenever he needed it. even as he stripped out of the suit, hanging it back into the machine that he'd built to constantly repair and perform alterations and upgrades on his suit, he couldn't shake the tiredness coursing through his body. there had been so many little obstacles tonight for him to deal with, so many petty crimes getting in the way of him attempting to capture the bank robbers. despite the neighborhood spider-man, kinich was one who dealt with the entirety of natlan, not just downtown where he resided. his senses were too sharp to let anything go, meaning he often swung all through the vast land to catch criminals. that also meant that by the end of the night, he was usually drained beyond comprehension.
stumbling through his empty apartment, kinich's first stop was a shower, after which he made his way into his kitchen, shaking his wet hair as he warmed the premade meal that he had left for himself. as he waited for the microwave to signal that his food was ready to eat, his eyes noticed the small piece of folded paper sitting neatly a few inches from his front door. he hadn't seen or heard ajaw since making it back home and had an inkling as to where the little troublemaker might be, but he still grabbed the note with a twitching of his lips as he unfolded the note and skimmed your handwriting.
ajaws at my place again :) hope u dont mind, ill bring him back after classes tmr
kinich wasn't the type to smile widely at the handwriting strewn across the post-it note, but even he was helpless against the twitch of his lips, amused at your hastily written words on the paper. rather than throwing it out, kinich shook his head to himself as he headed back to the beeping microwave, wondering if he and ajaw needed to have another conversation about privacy. the cat had been spending almost every night recently over at your apartment rather than staying at home to wait for kinich, and while he didn't exactly miss the grumbling and irritated cat making his life so much more difficult, he felt bad for you because now his headache was willing to make your life hell as well; although, kinich had a sneaky suspicion that ajaw was a lot more well-behaved when he was in your company.
what a traitor.
but perhaps deep down, beyond his heightened senses and pragmatic nature, kinich knew that ajaw was merely following through with something that he had never had the courage to do. the ability to linger around you, to relish in your presence, and feel the warmness of your smile directed at him… these were all luxuries that ajaw was now indulging, wordlessly mocking kinich. yet some part of kinich was reassured knowing that ajaw refused to leave your side from the very moment you returned to your home, knowing that you'd be perfectly safe as long as ajaw was by your side.
after all, ajaw and kinich were a lot more than just your ordinary pair of owner and pet.
the sun was beaming in through the windows and shining onto the tables while you brushed across the counter with a wet cloth, cleaning off any dust that may have settled during the night. it was an early morning, only six am, with the sun having just risen in the distance. you worked at the local café located on the campus of the university, where most students came by to grab their morning coffees or where many came to do their studying, snacking on the delicious cakes and beverages. three times a week, you had a morning shift here before heading off to your noon classes, managing to earn some money while also studying. and nobody could deny that escoffier was a rather benevolent boss… well, at least to you, for you only worked the counter, employed as a barista rather than one of the bakers.
and like always, the door was pushed open carefully and closed even more gently as the bell above the glass doors rang. your eyes snapped up to glance at whoever had just walked in, not surprised to see the boy headed towards the counter with his headphones sitting snugly around his neck and his headband hidden behind his thick veil of hair. kinich's eyes were flickering up to the menu like always, giving off the impression that he was contemplating what he should order from the expansive menu, even though both of you knew he would be ordering the same thing as he always did. an americano with an extra shot of espresso alongside a milk bread roll, no additional sweetener or creamer needed for this drink.
"good morning," you greeted him with a soft smile, settling behind the cash register once more with your fingers ready to type in his usual order. "what can i get for you?"
"a large black coffee with a milk bread roll, please."
just like every shift you had, kinich seemingly didn't want to retain eye contact for too long. your eyes met his as he finally voiced his usual order, secretly appreciative of how you never corrected his order or how you never pointed out that he ordered the same thing every time. you just always blessed him with that soft, not too broad and not too bright for such an early hour, and warm smile that made something in kinich's stomach do a double take, making him feel conscious in a way he'd never tried before. there was always this specific glimmer in your eyes whenever he came by, your eyes magnetic in a way that made him curious about why he didn't feel that apprehension around you. yet he couldn't help but take in the green top you were wearing, one that resembled the tone of his hoodie, your neck adorned with a pearl necklace and wrists bound in similar bracelets.
"you can just take a seat. i'll bring it over when it's all done."
kinich's eyes would drift to you now and then once he'd settle down at his usual table in the corner of the café, the same spot where he would always sit and work on his assignments that were neglected for the sake of being the local hero flying around the streets and saving people. you moved around so effortlessly, humming along to the music playing from the speakers above as you prepared his coffee and grabbed one of the newly baked rolls—and kinich would be an idiot to not notice how you always seemed to search for the best one for him, smiling to yourself as you placed it on a plate with a small bowl of butter and a butter knife as well. the coffee would be poured with care, and you'd placed it all on a tray, even adding a large glass of water before carrying it over to him. and like always, kinich would pretend that he hadn't just been watching you with observing eyes, letting his gaze drop back down to his laptop as you placed his order on the table, nodding pleased to yourself before you returned to the counter.
a few months ago, kinich was swinging around the streets of the city when he heard the alert come through the receiver in his mask, connected to his own program that had tapped into the police radio. there was a robbery happening downtown, one he was now rushing towards as he swung through the city, in awe of all the people cheering for him and screaming in joy now that they'd gotten to see the famous spider-man swinging past them. the robbery itself was easy to deal with, the boy merely slipping in and knocking all the perpetrators unconscious before releasing the hostages, narrowly managing to avoid all the happy hugs and cheers of relief directed towards him. the perpetrators were not carrying real weapons, instead having dragged in false guns to rob the bank, so kinich simply tied them off and swung off again, soaking in the gratefulness directed at him.
"i've told you so many fucking times now, leave me the hell alone!" kinich heard a voice from a distance, picking up on the anger and underlying fear beneath, immediately turning rapidly in his movements to intercept whatever was happening. his senses had improved rapidly and unfathomably, allowing him to hear something even this far away from him. shooting out webs, swinging in-between buildings as people gasped in shock at the man in the black and green suit swinging by, kinich's senses were all focused on making sure he got there in time, especially as he could hear the female voice continuously repeating but becoming increasingly more frantic. "leave me alone, dude, seriously. i've said no so many times."
"but you said you don't have a boyfriend, so let me make a move. let me take you out. let me spoil you so you don't have to work in that stupid café anymore."
kinich could feel his blood stewing within his body, the primal side of his brain beginning to take over as he heard the distressed female voice and the insistent male voice, swinging right past a speeding car and throwing up a hand in a quick apology, swinging around the large building and landing on a roof, running at speeds unfeasible to a normal person. he hated people like this guy whose voice was grating his ears—the kind of people who were unable to accept a no, assuming it was alright to harass other people to receive their desired answers; it was something that he'd gone through a lot, and it had grown to become one of his biggest pet peeves. the argument was picking up snappily, and the volume of both voices was becoming too loud, sending a minor pang of fear through the boy as he knew how abruptly a situation could become dangerous. he was getting closer, but he was hoping that he could make it there before something bad occurred—that he could intervene before someone got hurt for no reason.
but perhaps he was fearing something that simply could not happen. for as kinich made it there, landing on his feet in the alleyway where this conflict was occurring, a scream echoed, permeating the surrounding space. the university student had landed in a crouched position, one hand grazing the rock-hard ground under him as the other one immediately got into position, held out in his signature pose, ready to shoot webs at the pestering man. but the scene before was so puzzling that kinich found his hand falling to the ground, head cocking to the side in confusion yet in admiration. his eyes instantly landed on you, whose eyes were already locked on kinich, widened and bright with adrenaline as your chest heaved in air—you were clearly in shock, but whether it was from the situation or because freakin' spider-man was in front of you, he just didn't know.
what he did know was that the scene before him was presumably the last thing he had ever expected, yet one that flooded him with a sense of relief and pride, even if it was towards someone he did not know. because lying on the ground was a man who just looked sleazy, even to kinich. he was clearly knocked out cold, eyes closed and limbs spread out like a starfish. behind the mask, kinich's eyes would peer to look at you, and on the mask, the wide white eyes on the black mask, outlined in that same yellow color, would widen ever so slightly. your jaw was slack, and there were no words coming from your mouth, but in your hands you held a piece of wood, something that resembled a wooden plank or something from a pallet.
"i know this looks super bad, spider-man, but i promise that this isn't what it looks like."
kinich rose from his crouched posture and instantly held his hands up in a good show of faith when he noticed how you'd stepped back as he stood up, as if you didn't trust him to not make an unwanted move. and truthfully, he just could not blame you. it didn't take a genius to understand what had happened here: the typical man whose social comprehension and morals were both compromised and underdeveloped, harassing a woman who'd already voiced her disinterest yet found herself being followed and put in a rough position. he wasn't an idiot—he understood the sort of things that could've happened had you not taken matters into your own hands and defended yourself, or at least, neutralized the threat before it became a certainty.
"i see that."
your hands were trembling, and your heart was beating faster than ever before, and you could've sworn that this must all be a bad dream. the guy on the ground was someone who'd been coming into your workplace for months now, always making moves on you and never wanting to hear you whenever you made abundantly clear that you were not interested in him. not because you already had a boyfriend or because you were some sort of prude, but because you were simply not interested. he didn't like that, to undoubtedly nobody's surprise. he merely kept coming in, even when you had your hours changed or days altered, even when you took a longer break. your managers had even implemented a ban on him, but that did not stop him from then waiting outside your workplace for you, still trying to make a move.
then one day, he just stopped showing up or waiting around for you. that innate fear always lingering in the back of your mind began to fade, as did the unwanted trembling of your hands every time you had to leave your work. you no longer had to fear that you'd have your senses overwhelmed by the guy whose fashion sense was as loud as his grating voice, shoes as ugly as his face, and his hands always trying to grab a hold of you. the feeling of being off work became joyous again, for both you and your coworkers. they no longer had to stay until your shift was over to give you a ride home, even if they didn't mind at all, and they didn't have to watch as you tried endlessly to get him off your back just for nothing to happen. police chief mavuika had been by once with her team, issuing him a restraining order, but unfortunately every time they'd been called, he would make it away.
she had genuinely done her very best to keep him away, but just a few days later was when he stopped showing up, and you all—naively in hindsight—came to assume that he didn't want trouble with the authorities and risk being arrested, thus staying away. yet even when going about your life as usual, spending the hours at work having fun with your coworkers and being able to not worry anymore, you were worried. for your instinct was not one you'd ever ignored before, and there was something in the back of your mind warning you that he was not one to walk away with no gain—stalkers never were.
tonight was the night your guts had been warning you about, but tonight was also one of the worst nights of your life, objectively speaking. you'd been swamped with customers, more than any of you had expected; one of your chefs got sick, and thus one of the servers had to cover for him, leaving the dining floor with one less server to make the dining room work flawlessly, and as if things just could not get worse, your new manager had a weird thing against you and assigned you the duty of closing, something you never did on your own. he didn't seem to care that you'd just worked a ten-hour shift, having worked the overall longest shift of the staff at work presently, nor did he care that you'd only had a single break throughout the day; he had decided that you had to do the dirty work, and unless you suddenly wanted to lose your supplementary source of income besides being a university student, you just had to put down your head and work. hours after everyone had left, had you been able to drag yourself out of the back entrance, the one in the alleyway with exhaustion seared into your every bone. there was nothing more you wanted right now than to have a warm shower, enjoy a hot meal in the comfort of your own home, and fall into a long, undisturbed, and blissful sleep.
but that plan was disrupted the very second you made it out the door and heard that grating and agitating voice approach you once more. there was something in his eyes, though, something that made you so incredibly uncomfortable in a way you'd never felt before. he always gave you the creeps, shivers shooting down your spine at his eyes boring into yours, a hand always running through his yellow hair. zen'in naoya always started out these conversations this way, trying to ask about your life, how work had felt, and how university was. he was older than you, and the only reason you even knew his name was that mavuika had informed you when she walked you through his family background and tried to keep you as informed as possible. but every conversation always reached out to a point where that faux smile on his face alongside the ersatz facade of lightness just vanished, and his actual personality took over once more. whereas he would usually try to sweet-talk you with an easy smile and bright eyes, he would suddenly have a mocking smirk playing at his thin lips, eyes full of superiority and contempt. he no longer felt like a man just trying to make a move because he was interested, but suddenly became one who made you feel downright unsafe in his company—someone who felt that he would take whatever or whoever he desired with no regard for anyone else.
you had tried to get him off your back politely while his eyes still retained that false glittering of kindness and normalcy, but that just hadn't worked. it had been weeks since you last saw him, and he'd been so openly irate about the police order, cursing you out to your face and swearing to the heavens above that you'd come to regret this decision. but eventually you could no longer back away from him, forced to stand against the brick wall, wishing that it would somehow grow sentient and pull you into safety, all so you wouldn't have to accept this reality: that you were trapped in an alleyway at night with a man who'd been stalking you for months and who you knew wouldn't hesitate to drop that bullshit facade and hurt you. but waiting around for a savior was not something you were willing to do. spider-man was well known about your homeland, always there to save people whilst expecting nothing in return, but there was no guarantee that he would ever know about this, and the threat in front of you was very real and very imminent; something you knew from the way naoya kept moving closer to you despite your loud and clear directions to stay away.
but when he chose to ignore your words, when he decided to look past your wavering hands and your trembling arms trying to create a barrier in front of you to protect yourself from him; when he decided that he was entitled to encroach on your boundaries and creep closer to you with that malicious and immoral grin as his hands got ready to grab a hold of you, then you decided that you were allowed to defend yourself—that you were similarly entitled, that you were allowed to eliminate anything that was aiming to harm you. and if you had reached out for the plank next to your leg, the very same one you'd literally put outside earlier, and whacked him right across the head as he lunged at you, well, that was your prerogative. soon to be also the police's, as you were hoping to call them the second you were able to grab your phone in your shaking hands.
now it was also spider-man's problem, for unlike your lack of confidence, he had somehow discovered what was happening and made it here, albeit a little late and with you in a rather precarious situation, but made it here nonetheless. and now there he was, standing in front of you holding a damn weapon with specks of blood splattered across its wooden surface with an unconscious man on the ground before you. the board dropped from your hands, both hands shooting up to cover your mouth in shock, now that the happenings of this event were finally dawning on you. naoya was going to hurt you, to inflict trauma upon you that you'd never be able to heal from—that was only if you had somehow survived whatever malicious plan he had for you. the fact that you had knocked him out, potentially inflicting some serious and permanent damage, mattered less to you, for he deserved it. if not just for tonight, then simply for any other time he'd found it acceptable to dismiss your distress and continued his assault on your comfort.
"the police should be on their way soon," spider-man calmly stated, a lot more monotone than you'd expect, as he strolled over to naoya, leaning down to check naoya's condition. "but are you alright?"
your hands were shaking now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off once again, your gaze locked on the man before you. like most others, you'd only ever seen clips and pictures of spider-man on the news or on social media, having to admit that his suit was quite cool. the black suit with cooler-toned emerald highlights all over, spider web designs within the green highlights, and yellow highlights across his suit and mask, the spider in the center of his chest in that same yellow tone. his mask was the same black tone with yellow highlights around his white eyes, which seemed to not hold much expression despite the size of them. he was light on his feet, but he was definitely taller than you, broad especially in the shoulder area and with muscles rippling through his skin-tight suit, but not so muscular that it was unappealing.
"i'm fine," you eventually replied in a shaky voice, trying to steel yourself. "i just want this night to be over with."
and that was a feeling he could agree with. he'd also contacted mavuika the second he landed, sending off an alert to have her rush to his location. nobody knew that kinich was the masked hero of their land, but he had an amicable relationship with the police department, particularly with their chief named mavuika, whose faith in spider-man was as great as her own abilities to be the most competent and valuable law enforcement officer this land would ever have. she had already alerted kinich that she was on the way, and through the communication devices in his mask, he listened on to mavuika as he kept his eyes on you.
still pressing against the wall as if you were trying to keep maximum space between yourself and him alongside naoya's unconscious body, your eyes were beginning to flutter, as if the adrenaline slipping away was simultaneously heightening the tiredness coursing throughout your overworked body. your bag was lying by your feet, hands burying into your hair as he could tell you were attempting to steady your own breathing, which had picked up quite a bit. as someone who'd been through descending from an adrenaline rush before, he felt a twinge of pity for you, aware that it was a shock to the body to suddenly have to understand what had indeed happened. but not long passed before mavuika arrived with her squad, all of them rushing over to check up on naoya and to rouse him, while mavuika headed straight for you, crouching down before you and speaking to you in calming whispers; kinich chose to focus on something else, not wanting to listen on as the older woman calmed you down.
as much as kinich wanted to stay behind and make sure everything was fine and that you were okay, he was also beginning to feel as if he was overstaying in a situation that had nothing to do with him. xilonen and ifa had already hauled naoya into one of their cars, muttering in whispers about making sure to read him his rights when he was awake again. mavuika was still speaking with you, and he didn't miss her telling the others to leave without her, assuring them that she'd be driving you home herself. but before kinich could leave, he overheard one thing. you must have asked how mavuika knew to get there and how they knew what had happened, seeing as you hadn't really had the opportunity to call them. the older woman graced you with a sweet smile, nodding over at kinich as she explained how he'd called them and communicated with them what had happened—he even made sure to tell them that he'd heard it all from a distance, technically another witness for naoya's relentless harassment, and even if they already had enough proof to prove that naoya was after you, it never hurt anyone to have the word of everyone's favorite hero.
but kinich had never really been able to stop thinking of you since that day, not that he had the option, as he suddenly realized why you'd somehow seemed so familiar. it had happened one day when he found him returning late at night, rushing up the stairs and heading to his apartment when he saw you just about to enter your own, glancing down the hallway in confusion. you were dressed very differently than the night he'd first seen you, your work uniform replaced by a short but beautiful dress and a trench coat over. he didn't miss the way you flashed him a friendly smile, nodding once before you merely entered your apartment and left him standing in the hallway, staring after you.
he often forgot that people who knew spider-man did not know kinich and thus, seeing people he'd saved around always struck him as odd. his mind was reverting to the night a few weeks ago when you'd stood up for yourself, not waiting for someone else to save you, but instead saving yourself. but this was probably your first time ever seeing kinich and as a neighbor, you simply displayed some friendliness. your distressed expression was replaced by one of lightheartedness, and if kinich had noticed that night, it was further amplified today—you were stunning. kinich was a guy who stuck to his usual friend group, who did not have much time or effort to pour into new people or situations, for besides being a very busy hero whose very nights and weekends were full of keeping his home safe, he was also a university student at the top of his classes.
but as the weeks would go by, as months passed and seasons changed, so did you and kinich.
you'd never known that someone as cute as kinich lived just down the hall from you, as you'd never seen the owner of that apartment. of course, only people from your university resided here, and thus, the person living there would never be someone entirely strange to you. but people from different courses could live on the same floor, and that was very much the situation here. the first time you saw kinich, he came running into the hallway when he suddenly froze just as you were fishing your keys from your purse, leading you to turn to face him. and, wow. with dark and thick hair, laced with cool-toned emeralds paired with those green and orange eyes, probably the unique set of eyes you'd ever seen. his skin was tanned and had a glow to it, warm under these lights, and you could see a pair of basic earrings hidden behind the headband draped around his forehead. he was dressed in a pair of dark-washed jeans with a leather jacket sitting over his top half, a light green sweater making itself visible from below the jacket and with a bag slung across his midriff, and thick boots on.
he was hot, you thought to yourself. he was, like, critically hot. stoic face, bright eyes that somehow seemed quiet despite their rare combination of tones, longer hair with texture and an accent color, and of course, the way you were certain you could see a tattoo snake up the length of the side of his neck. but you refused to have him notice that you were most definitely checking him out, so with a quick nod and flustered smile, you vanished back into your apartment with the sight of that divine man lingering in the back of your mind.
ajaw's venture to your apartment began with small visits, the cat sometimes appearing out of nowhere and following you into your apartment without you knowing. one sight at the little guy, and you just knew he belonged to the hot guy down the hall, so you did what any good neighbor would do: return his cat and receive a rather dull but sincerely appreciative thank you from the hot guy whose name you'd later know. as ajaw began swinging by more often, you steadily became more familiar with kinich and his schedule, but more so, you noticed his surprise at ajaw's affection towards you. learning that ajaw hated most people was very shocking to you, especially seeing as the little cat had always been so loving towards you, only you couldn't help but feel honored that the kinich's cat loved you. the first few conversations between you two were awkwardly beyond belief, for you could tell that he just wanted them over and done with, but also that he just didn't know what to say to you. but with time, and as ajaw became more so used to spending far more time at your place than kinich's, you learned more about him.
your crush on kinich developed slowly but became deeper as you learned more about him and his habits. when you got a job at the café at your university, after you quit your job at the other place, you found that kinich came in almost every morning and ordered the same thing. at first, he used to always remain in his own world, polite but uninterested in anyone else. but it did not take you long to notice how his eyes would often follow you around as you did your job, reverting the second you glanced over at him, but the weight of his gaze on you never faltered. kinich didn't think that he'd be the type to fall for someone he barely knew, but here he was. stuck watching you as you hummed to yourself, making an iced coffee for yourself. perhaps it was the way you'd become so loving towards ajaw, who truly did not like anyone but had somehow come to adore you, or maybe it was the way you always greeted him with a smile and a wave when you crossed paths in the hallway.
there was something about you that sent shivers down kinich's spine. something that made him want to admire you and listen to you speak all day about whatever you wanted. emotions like these were unfamiliar to someone like him, but even he had become oblivious to when and how you'd somehow sneaked past his thick walls and penetrated into his heart. maybe it was the way you took such wonderful care of his cat, maybe it was listening to you exchange such mirthful conversations with others, or maybe it was the way you were so unconditionally kind to him. he didn't know why he was finding himself wanting to know everything about you, but like mualani had told him a few months ago, love always happened unexpectedly.
and as you admired him from your place behind the counter, watching him over the edge of your cup as he worked through his study materials, you wondered whether he would ever find it in him to tell you or if you'd simply have to confess to him. because whilst you were well aware by now that kinich most definitely harbored a massive crush on you, carrying such vivid emotions whenever he gazed at you with every ounce of attention in his body, you had a sneaking suspicion that he had no idea about your crush. he had certainly noticed that you treated him differently than others, but you knew by now that kinich was not like others, and that made you wonder whether he knew about your feelings for him, the butterflies swarming in your stomach and the rapid beating of your heart as his eyes met yours, and you let a wide smile curve your lips, noticing the slight flush in his tanned cheeks.
or if he knew that you knew that he was spider-man, the same boy who'd watched you with so much concern on your worst night yet rushed to help, and the same boy who was now rushing out of the café to go save someone else. you wondered if he knew that you were watching him with that same expression now, praying that he'd return safely.
and you wondered if he knew that you could feel his presence as you walked home, noticing the way he crawled along the buildings in the shadows in that breathtaking suit of his, ensuring you returned safely to your place. perhaps he was not the type to talk out loud about his emotions, to voice how he felt, but seeing him silently swing around all to make you never went through such a horrible night again meant everything to you.
because knowing he was doing all of this for you spoke louder than any words ever could.
(thank you Anon for the suggestion! Requests are open for anyone interested! Rules are in the pinned post!)
Enjoy~
Kinich and you both work with commissions so sometime you both do them together.
Kinich always carries any heavy object that is needed for the commission. He won't listen to you if you say you can carry them by yourself.
If you insist on carrying something he'll give you the smaller and lighter ones. If Ajaw tries to call you weak or make fun of you he always shuts him up immediately.
If his words get to you he'll always comforts you and lets you know that you are by no means weak.
You two most of the time finish commissions together,but if it's a busy day unfortunately you have to part ways for the day.
Whenever you guys take a break you always grab lunch together. And if you guys finished commissions early and still have the rest of the day available with nothing to do.
You to visit Mualani spend time with her and Kachina and spend time in the hot springs with them.
It's time for dinner Kinich always offers to help. He helps by either cutting the vegetable or doing anything you ask him to.
He even makes Ajaw do some work even when he complains and throws tantrum.
After dinner you both finish your nightly routines then fall asleep cuddling.
While Ajaw grumbles about how annoying you two are with being all lovey dovey.
summary — kinich was tasked to handle a group of bandits taking camp in ameyalco waters, but he certainly didn't expect to see that you had gotten there first.
themes — fluff and humor, veterinarian!reader, ajaw being ajaw, developing relationship, kinich gets a bit flustered but nothing major, slow romance with these two
WC: 1.8k | ao3
The commission was simple enough. Find a group of bandits loitering around Ameyalco Waters, handle them swiftly, and earn a generous payout. The job was clear, the pay was copious, and Kinich wasn’t one to let an opportunity to make easy mora slide. Before the commissioner could even tell him the full details, he was already halfway across the Scions of the Canopy with his claymore in hand.
As he traveled to the marked destination, Ajaw buzzed around his ear, slinging insults and mockery per usual.
“How dare you interrupt the Almighty Dragonlord’s slumber for this!” the pixelated dragon exclaimed, zipping from Kinich’s left to his right repeatedly, giving Kinich his first Ajaw-related headache of the day. “I hope you die doing this stupid commission! That you die, you hear me?!”
Though he was used to the incessant death threats, they didn’t make him any less annoyed. Swatting Ajaw with the back of his hand, he ignored the loud “Gah!” that the Saurian made in turn. Eyes focused on the road ahead, Kinich said, “Pay attention. The sooner we find the trail, the sooner you can get back to bed.”
“How dare you patronize me?! You should be begging for my forgiveness right now, you ungrateful wretch! If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even be able to take this stupid commission—! Gah!”
With another smack of his hand, Ajaw tumbled through the air. Kinich rolled his eyes before turning his attention to the soil ahead.
The ground was turning softer, damp from the pond waters that surrounded the vale. There were faint impressions of footsteps, three pairs that appeared to be dried and set. Those ones must have crossed the area some time ago.
But there was another pair of footsteps. These ones were far fresher, the soil around them still moist and impressionable. Whoever made them must have been wearing heeled boots, judging by the tracks. The ridges that crossed the prints looked different from the smooth-soled ones of the other three—these shoes were clearly built for outdoor exploration. And judging by the designer emblem printed into the ground, they were expensive, too.
Kinich lifted a hand to his chin in thought.
“What’s wrong with you?!” Ajaw barked. “We found the footprints, so let’s follow them!”
He shot his companion a glance, but said nothing. Continuing further past the boggy marsh, Kinich felt something unsettling begin to dwell within him. When the first patch of bright red blood appeared before him, he immediately kneeled before it to investigate.
A quick swipe of his finger through it was enough for him to recognize what had happened. It was the blood of a Koholasaurus.
The boot prints in the marsh were growing more interspersed. Whoever owned those shoes had started running.
Kinich would follow their lead.
“What the—?! Where are you going?!”
Ajaw’s cry fell upon deaf ears. For reasons unbeknownst to him, Kinich’s heart was pounding a mile a minute, and as he rounded the corner of the stone structure that hid the rest of the marsh from view, his eyes fell upon an unexpected sight.
“Hey…you’ll be okay.”
Your voice was calm, but your surroundings were anything but. Three men laid unconscious around your feet, your sword laid on the ground beside you. You held a roll of bandages in one hand, furling it around the wing of the injured Koholasaurus as you whispered gentle reassurances.
When the beast’s eyes landed on Kinich, it let out a feeble, strangled cry.
Immediately, you grabbed your sword and lunged at him. Right before your blade could strike his throat, you stopped. Kinich remained where he stood, staring back into those fierce eyes of yours without a shred of animosity.
A woman who tended to a Koholasaurus like it was a child, then brought her blade to anyone she perceived as a threat, could only be an honest person.
As if you heard his thoughts, your harsh expression immediately fell. You pulled your arm back, and with an elegant twirl of your blade, it dissipated into golden light. Looking rather awkward, you said, “I’m sorry. I thought you were another bandit.”
Before Kinich could reply to you, Ajaw made his presence known.
“Oh, come on! You were so close to killing this guy! The Almighty Dragonlord is displeased by the lowly girl’s actions!”
Your eyes flicked over to the pixelated menace with a blink. Quickly, you shook your head.
“I have to tend to this one,” you said, turning your back to him. “You seem capable. Will you lend me a hand?”
You knelt at the Koholasaurus’s side again, your attention devoted to the injured animal. Kinich’s eyes swept towards the knocked out bandits at your feet before he materialized a pixelated rope.
“Huh? You’re just gonna listen to her?! Who died and made her queen?!”
“Saurian,” you said, in a tone that was calm yet commanding. “Your voice is distressing to the Koholasaurus.”
“Wh—?! What gives you the right to speak to Ku’hul Ajaw this way?! Why, I oughta—! Gah!”
Immediately, Kinich grabbed Ajaw by the tail. With a sharp swing of his arm, he sent the Saurian flying into the air, spewing obscenities and insults as he tumbled across the valley.
Kinich quickly returned his attention to the bandits at his feet. He knelt to bind their wrists with rope, taking action while they were still unconscious. It didn’t take very long for him to realize that said bandits were the same ones he was briefed on just that morning.
“…Both of us were commissioned for the same job.”
He didn't ask for clarification, so much as he stated his observation. Behind him, he heard the sound of you unraveling bandages and shushing the whimpering animal.
“It seems that way,” you answered. “I guess I got here first.”
“I guess you did.” He finished the last knot in his rope before asking, “How much did they offer you?”
“How much…? That doesn’t matter. I took this job for free.”
Of course you did. He could tell by the way you knocked the bandits unconscious instead of killing them. By the way those designer boots of yours stamped into the ground. By the way you tended to a hurt Koholasaurus like a gentle matriarch. You were someone who didn’t see the value in mora like he did, and as little as he knew you, your every move told for it.
It was different, to say the least. Your actions could be interpreted as sheltered and naive, but also kind and charitable. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if one held more value than the other.
“If you want,” you said, “I can pay you whatever your guys offered you.”
“Hm? No, that’s not necessary. You handled them.”
“You helped me.” You nudged at the bandits with your head. “That rope isn’t mine. It looks like it costs about…forty thousand mora?”
“Well. Considering the material, it’s more like fifty thousand,” he said plainly. “But I don’t need you to pay me.”
You looked up at him with something inquisitive in your eyes. It was like you were analyzing him, and the longer you stared at him, the more unusual he began to feel. The sensation started in his stomach, light and free like he felt when he was cliff diving, yet his body remained fixed to the ground. When your lips curled into a smile, it was as though you reminded his heart how to beat again.
How strange.
“Then…how about you help me with this one?” you asked. “I think it’s looking for its parents. If you take my commission and find them for me, I’ll be sure to compensate you appropriately for it.”
He swallowed. “How much are we talking?”
“Hm…about fifty thousand mora?”
Talk about overcompensation—but that fact didn’t look like it bothered you in the slightest. He supposed it was payment for a service. With that in mind, he casually said, “Deal.”
Your hand stroked the head of the Koholasaurus, who placed its chin in your lap. Smiling at Kinich fondly, you said, “Thank you. Please be careful.”
Abruptly. he turned away from you. He had never been spoken to like that before—full of such bountiful warmth and kindness—like he held some deeper meaning to you. The way you wished him well, how you babied the Koholasaurus in your lap…you almost reminded him of a young mother.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Kinich asked, “What’s your name?”
“My Ancient Name? It’s—.”
“No, your actual name.”
“Oh. I don’t really…well. I’m a veterinarian, so feel free to call me Doc.”
Like Ifa. Your dress suggested you were from the Flower Feather Clan as well. “I’m Kinich.”
“Kinich…? Ah, you bear the Ancient Name Malipo, don’t you? I’ve heard all about your Saurian companion, too.”
As though summoned, said Saurian companion came rolling back into Kinich’s field of view with a scream. As he launched insult after insult Kinich’s way, the man tuned it all out. Playing on repeat in his mind was the way you said his name: Kinich.
It sounded pleasant on your tongue. Sophisticated, but soft.
“…I’ll be back,” he said eventually.
You gave him a nod. It took Kinich a moment to realize that Ajaw had gone radio silent.
The mouthy dragon looked at you, then at Kinich. Before he could intervene, Ajaw placed a pixelated blush right over his face, complete with pink heart eyes to boot. With a loud cackle, Ajaw jeered, “Someone’s in loooooove!”
“Stop that,” he hissed, waving the pink pixels away from himself. He found you interesting, sure, but he most certainly was not in love with a woman he had just met.
The young Koholasaurus let out a soft whine. You laughed.
“No, he’s not my husband,” you said. “But yes, he is very nice.”
Kinich’s eyes widened. “You…understand the Koholasaurus?”
“Hm? Oh, yes. That’s how I found those bandits so easily in the first place.”
“What, you want a medal or something?!” Ajaw asked. “You still stole the Almighty Dragonlord’s commission fee! How will you repay His Magnificence for this?!”
“We’re going to find the Koholasaurus’s parents,” Kinich said, grabbing Ajaw by the tail as he did. “Shut up and come with me.”
“Huh?! That kind of request sounds like chump change!”
“Fifty thousand mora,” you supplied.
“Fifty thousand—?!” Ajaw’s sunglasses grew bigger, like his eyes were bulging, as his pink mouth simultaneously opened wide. Waving his arm around, he snapped, “Kinich, this woman appears to have an incredibly disposable income! Court her now, in the name of Ku’hul Ajaw!”
“Gh—! Shut up, already!”
Heat that wasn’t from the blazing sun overhead soaked into Kinich’s face. As he trudged forward, dragging Ajaw along behind him, he heard the lilting of your laughter. It made his ears tickle, but he did his best to ignore the feeling.
He had a job to do, first and foremost. Any thoughts of you could come after payment was received.
a/n: really funny that i thought i'd never write kinich but here i am with this one xD this was a work done for a fic/art trade with @laro80, who is a super talented artist so please check her works out!
anyway, if you liked what you read, please consider leaving a me a heart! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ reblogs and comments appreciated!
if you would like to be tagged whenever i post genshin x reader, please check my rules here! thank you!
icymi! chai's last non-lohen post:
sfw/nsfw headcanons, multi imagines (1.1k notes)
masterlist
⊹ ˖ fellow authors, i do not mind if you are inspired by my works to write something similar, but please credit me if you are. these concepts mean a lot to me, so i would really like to be credited for any of my personal ideas that inspire you. thank you!
PREMISE . . . In which they remain completely oblivious to the feelings they've already developed for you, even as their actions grow increasingly affectionate, attentive, and unmistakably devoted, while everyone around them can see exactly what's happening long before they finally realize that they've fallen for you.
ꫂ᭪݁ STARRING . . . lohen, dottore, tartaglia, wanderer, varka, kinich
⚠︎ WARNING . . . › sfw!!, word count : 700-900 each character, brief mention of blood, oblivious pining, mild protective/possessive behavior, physical affection, teasing, fluff!
note . I LOVED WRITING FOR WANDERER SO MUCHHH argh my baby ;; and I was actually contemplating whether to write for dottore haha I hope he's not so ooc,,
── ( 𝒍. ) lohen wouldn't intially realize he was falling in love with you because he simply wouldn't have the framework for recognizing it. He understands caring for people, protecting them, helping them, and enjoying someone's company, but the idea of 'love' as something separate from all of that isn't something he's ever spent much time examining.
His behavior toward you would therefore seem completely natural to him. He'd find himself looking for you whenever he entered a room without consciously deciding to, his eyes automatically sweeping across the people there until they found you.
The change in him would be subtle but unmistakable to anyone who knew him well. Lohen could walk into a room with his usual mildly distant expression, not particularly unhappy or irritated, simply looking as though his thoughts were somewhere else, and then he'd spot you.
His eyes would immediately brighten, his entire expression warming into a genuine smile before he'd even realize he'd done it, and he'd naturally make his way toward you. He might interrupt whatever conversation he'd been having just to greet you, or wander over after finishing his current task and ask whether you wanted to train together.
Training would become one of his favorite ways of spending time with you, he'd invite you to spar, teach you a new technique, help correct your stance, or ask you to watch while he practiced. Sometimes he'd deliberately challenge you just to see how much you'd improved, and other times he'd patiently demonstrate the same movement over and over until you finally understood it.
If you were already sitting nearby, he'd simply gravitate toward you between exercises, talking about whatever happened to cross his mind. None of this would strike him as unusual. When someone remarked that he seemed particularly happy whenever you were around, he'd genuinely look confused, because from his perspective he was simply enjoying your company.
He wouldn't understand that the way his expression changed at the sight of you, the way he instinctively searched for you, and the way he kept choosing your company whenever he had free time were signs of something much deeper.
Varka would be the one to finally put the pieces together for him. He'd eventually notice the pattern that Lohen himself remained completely oblivious to, the way his expression transformed whenever you appeared, how often he found reasons to train with you, and how naturally he gravitated toward you whenever you were nearby.
Eventually, after seeing Lohen practically light up when you walked into the training grounds, Varka would casually point it out. "You know you're always looking for her, right?" Lohen would initially dismiss it, genuinely unable to see anything unusual about what he was doing.
But Varka would continue explaining that it wasn't merely that Lohen enjoyed your company and it would leave Lohen unusually quiet.
He'd start thinking back over everything and, for perhaps the first time, actually examine his own behavior. He'd remember entering rooms and searching for you before he'd even realized he was doing it, the way seeing you could immediately brighten his mood, how he'd started looking forward to training sessions specifically because you would be there, and how strangely empty those same sessions felt when you couldn't make it.
The realization wouldn't arrive with some sweeping romantic epiphany. It would be much simpler and much more bewildering, Varka had given him a word for something Lohen had already been doing for months.
He'd stare ahead for a long moment before quietly saying, "You're saying I like her?" Once Varka confirmed it, Lohen would look genuinely stunned, as though someone had just explained a rule of the world he'd somehow never been taught.
He'd probably glance toward wherever you happened to be and watch you for a few seconds, noticing the same warmth spreading across his expression that Varka had been talking about.
Then he'd slowly run a hand through his hair, half laughing at himself. "So that's what this feeling is?"
From then on, he wouldn't suddenly become dramatically romantic, he'd simply become much more aware of what he'd already been doing. He'd still ask you to train with him, still teach you techniques, still wander over whenever he spotted you, and still smile instinctively whenever you entered a room. The difference would be that now he finally understood why.
── ( 𝒅. ) dottore would be particularly difficult to catch off guard because he would initially refuse to acknowledge that there was anything unusual about the way he treated you. He would regard his attachment as something that could be observed, analyzed, and eventually explained through reason, and for a considerable amount of time, that explanation would be enough for him.
Before realizing he has 'feelings' for you, he'd already be making deliberate accommodations that he would never bother making for anyone else. He'd allow you into laboratories and restricted areas where other people would be turned away without a second thought, tolerate you interrupting his work even when you arrived at the most inconvenient possible moment, and remember seemingly insignificant details about you with an accuracy that bordered on excessive.
He'd know which food you preferred, which subjects made you lose interest, when you were likely to become tired, and exactly how much patience you had for his experiments before you started complaining.
If someone questioned why you were permitted such liberties, he'd dismiss the matter with some clinical explanation about your usefulness or his own preference for your company over that of his colleagues.
Even his time would begin quietly accommodating you. He might postpone an experiment or a meeting because you were expected to visit, leave his laboratory earlier than usual because you had asked him to accompany you somewhere, or arrange his schedule so that you would encounter him during the few hours he was otherwise difficult to reach.
None of this would register as affection to him. He would simply categorize you as an exception, and Dottore was perfectly comfortable with exceptions when they were his to make. The more telling signs would appear in moments when his usual indifference should have taken precedence.
If you were injured, he would immediately notice. If someone endangered you, his attention would sharpen with a frightening immediacy. He would remember every detail surrounding the incident afterward, not because the information was scientifically interesting, but because he couldn't tolerate the possibility of it happening again.
Yet even then, he'd find some rational explanation for his behavior. You were a liability he needed to account for. Your safety affected his work. Your absence would be inconvenient. Your presence was simply preferable. He would keep giving himself increasingly elaborate explanations because admitting that he cared would require him to acknowledge that there was something about you he could not reduce to utility.
The realization would finally come when his own behavior contradicted every explanation he'd constructed. Perhaps he'd be in the middle of an experiment when news reached him that you'd been seriously injured.
Under ordinary circumstances, Dottore would finish what he was doing before allowing himself to be distracted, whatever problem existed could wait until the immediate task was complete. This time, however, he'd simply stop. His hands would go still over the equipment, his eyes lingering on the unfinished experiment for several silent seconds before he set everything aside without calculating the consequences.
He wouldn't even realize how strange the decision was until he was already on his way to you. Once he knew you were safe, the real disturbance would begin. He'd return to his laboratory and find himself staring at the abandoned work, mentally reconstructing what had happened and realizing that, for once, he'd made a decision without weighing its usefulness.
The experiment had simply stopped mattering the moment he'd learned you were hurt. That conclusion would irritate him more than the emotion itself. He'd begin examining the evidence with almost clinical precision, every precaution he'd taken specifically for your safety, every time he'd changed his plans because of you, every detail about you he'd memorized without intending to, every moment when his attention had instinctively shifted toward you even while surrounded by something more important.
Eventually, the pattern would become impossible to dismiss. He'd lean back, stare into the silence of the laboratory. "How inconvenient."
There would be no dramatic panic afterward. Instead, he'd become intensely curious about the realization, almost treating himself as another specimen to be studied. He'd test his own reactions, deliberately placing himself in situations where he could determine whether his behavior toward you was truly different from his behavior toward everyone else.
The answer would remain frustratingly consistent. He would continue insisting that nothing had fundamentally changed, even while becoming more deliberate about keeping you safe and maintaining your place within his life.
He wouldn't suddenly become openly sentimental or affectionate, that would be entirely contrary to his nature. If anything, he'd become more controlled, more attentive, and maybe even more possessive of the time and space you occupied in his world.
The difference would simply be that he now understood the reason behind it. You were no longer merely an interesting exception, a useful presence, or a variable he happened to tolerate. You had become the one variable he could neither explain away nor bring himself to eliminate, and for someone like Dottore, realizing that there was one person capable of becoming genuinely irreplaceable would be more unsettling than admitting he had fallen in love.
── ( 𝒄. ) childe would realize it almost accidentally, long before he ever thought to call it love, he'd already started treating you as someone distinctly more important than everyone else around him.
He'd invite you along whenever he had the opportunity, whether it was something as simple as wandering through the city or something more exciting that gave him an excuse to show off, and he'd turn nearly everything into some kind of game or challenge just to keep you entertained.
He'd constantly look for ways to make you laugh, deliberately exaggerating stories from his missions or pretending that some completely ordinary situation was far more dramatic than it actually was. He'd also develop the habit of bringing things back for you whenever he traveled, not necessarily expensive gifts, but small souvenirs he'd happened to see and immediately think you'd enjoy.
At first, he'd barely notice how often this happened. He'd simply return from a journey, spot something that reminded him of you, and think, you'd like this, before buying it without a second thought.
The difference would become more obvious in the way he treated your presence. Childe was naturally sociable and energetic, comfortable throwing himself into conversations and making friends wherever he went, but with you, there would be an extra degree of attention that he didn't give anyone else.
He'd remember things you'd told him weeks ago, notice immediately when something was bothering you, and instinctively check that you were alright whenever a situation became dangerous. If you were present during one of his fights, his attention would periodically flick toward you even while he was occupied with his opponent, and if you'd been left behind somewhere safe, he'd find himself wondering what you were doing before he'd even finished his mission.
He'd never consider any of this particularly strange. To him, you were simply you, someone he liked having around, someone whose company made even boring days more enjoyable. It wouldn't occur to him that he'd started measuring certain experiences by whether he could share them with you.
He'd return from an 'adventure' wanting to tell you about it first, encounter something amusing and immediately think about how you'd react, or catch himself looking through a crowd simply because some part of him expected to find you there. The thought would remain so ordinary in his mind that he wouldn't question it until one particular day made the pattern impossible to ignore.
The realization would probably hit him after returning from a particularly dangerous assignment, when he'd come back expecting the usual noise and bustle surrounding his arrival. He'd barely have time to step into the area before his eyes began moving through the crowd, searching automatically. He wouldn't even realize he was doing it at first.
His gaze would pass over familiar faces, fellow Fatui members, merchants, strangers, anyone standing nearby, until it finally landed on you. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd already been imagining the way you'd greet him, probably with that warm smile he had apparently grown so accustomed to seeing after every assignment.
But the moment you spotted him, that smile wouldn't come. Instead, your expression would immediately change with concern when you noticed the blood staining his clothes and the signs of a rough fight still visible across him.
You'd hurry toward him, asking whether he was hurt, your hands instinctively checking his arms and shoulders for injuries before he could even properly greet you. Childe would initially try to laugh it off, assuring you that he'd be fine and that most of the blood wasn't even his, but somewhere between your worried questions and the way you kept looking him over, his teasing response would gradually fade.
He'd simply stare at you. The warmth spreading through his chest would catch him completely off guard, almost like a flutter beneath his ribs, and for once he wouldn't have an immediate joke to cover it with.
He'd watch your worried expression, the way your brows had drawn together, the way you were still checking him despite his insistence that he was alright, and something inside him would suddenly feel impossibly light.
You were worried about him. The thought would make him stare at you with an almost bewildered fondness, his usual grin slowly returning as he realized just how much he liked being the person you cared about this deeply.
He'd blink only when you finally caught him staring and asked why he was looking at you like that. For a moment, he'd simply smile, almost dazed by the realization that had settled so naturally into place.
Then he'd laugh under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck as everything he'd previously dismissed began connecting at once, all the times he'd searched for you first after returning from an assignment, every souvenir he'd picked up because it reminded him of you, every story he'd wanted to tell you before anyone else, every excuse he'd invented to spend another afternoon together, and every time he'd found himself wondering whether you were safe while he was away.
It suddenly made perfect sense.
"Ah." The word would escape quietly before his smile widened. "How'd I not realize this sooner?" He'd probably find the whole realization almost amusing, especially after realizing how long he'd apparently been oblivious.
Yet rather than pulling away from the feeling, he'd simply let himself enjoy it, looking at you with that same soft, fascinated expression while you continued fussing over his injuries.
── ( 𝒘. ) wanderer would resist the realization longer than almost anyone because the very idea of being emotionally attached to someone would irritate him before he ever allowed himself to accept it. Long before he understood what was happening, you would already have become one of the few people capable of bringing out a warmth in him that he himself barely recognized.
It would almost feel like some forgotten part of him had resurfaced whenever he was with you, something softer and strangely content that he would immediately try to bury beneath his usual indifference. You could invite him somewhere as simple as wandering through the city, sitting somewhere quiet, or accompanying you while you talked about something that interested you, and his first response would almost always sound annoyed.
"Do you ever get tired of dragging me around?" Yet he'd still go. He'd complain about the destination, complain about how long you'd been talking, complain when you got distracted by something along the way, but he would never actually leave.
In reality, he'd be paying close attention to everything you said. He'd remember the details of your stories, ask questions when something genuinely caught his interest, and occasionally offer his own opinion before pretending he hadn't been listening that closely.
If you noticed how engaged he was and smiled because he was clearly enjoying himself, he'd immediately become defensive. "What? Don't look at me like that. I'm only listening because you won't stop talking." But he'd remain beside you anyway, sometimes so close that your shoulders nearly brushed, perfectly content to let you fill the silence.
He would especially enjoy the moments when you became animated about something you loved. He'd watch you talk, occasionally interrupting with a dry remark or challenging something you said simply to keep the conversation going, and then act irritated whenever you pointed out that he was clearly enjoying himself.
If you suggested doing something together again another day, he'd roll his eyes and pretend to consider it a nuisance. But he'd remember the suggestion perfectly and, when the day came, would somehow already be waiting for you.
His affection would also begin showing itself through physical closeness in ways that would be almost shocking compared to how he treated everyone else. Wanderer generally wouldn't tolerate unnecessary touching, but with you, the rules would quietly change.
If you were walking too slowly and he wanted you to follow him, he'd simply reach down and take your hand, tugging you along without even thinking about it. If you tried teasing him about it, he'd immediately look away and mutter that it was faster than waiting for you.
He might catch your hand again when crossing a crowded street, pull you closer when he wanted your attention, or casually keep hold of your wrist while leading you somewhere, all while behaving as though none of it were remotely significant. He wouldn't be affectionate in an openly sentimental way, instead, he'd simply become accustomed to having you within reach.
Sitting beside you would feel natural. Walking with your hand in his would feel natural. Listening to you talk for hours would feel natural. And the fact that he was genuinely happy during those moments would be something he stubbornly refused to examine.
The realization would therefore hit him not simply because he protected you, but because he would eventually recognize what being around you did to him. Perhaps you'd invited him somewhere he had initially called boring, only for the two of you to spend hours together talking about whatever happened to come to mind.
At some point, you'd laugh at something he said, and he'd catch himself smiling before immediately trying to hide it. Or perhaps you'd reach for his hand without thinking and he'd instinctively let you take it, realizing only afterward that he hadn't pulled away. Instead, he'd tightened his fingers around yours.
That would make him pause.
He'd look down at your joined hands, then at you, and something about the quiet familiarity of it would feel strangely profound.
He'd remember how often he'd allowed himself to enjoy these moments despite pretending otherwise, how quickly his mood improved when you appeared, how he'd started looking forward to your conversations, and how your absence left a peculiar emptiness that he would never have admitted existed. Most importantly, he'd realize that you brought out a version of him he had almost forgotten existed.
Around you, he could be irritated without being cruel, quiet without being distant, playful without feeling foolish, and genuinely happy without having to explain why. The thought would bother him more than he'd like.
"No." He'd immediately reject whatever conclusion had begun forming, looking away as though the realization itself were an insult. But once he started noticing it, he wouldn't be able to stop.
Eventually, he'd click his tongue, fold his arms, and mutter bitterly to himself, "You've got to be kidding me."
The realization would make him defensive, but it wouldn't make him pull away. If anything, he'd become even more attached while pretending otherwise.
── ( 𝒗. ) varka would probably be one of the last people to realize it because, for months, he'd have absolutely no reason to suspect that what he felt for you was anything beyond genuine fondness. He was naturally warm, affectionate, and generous with the people he cared about, so none of his behavior toward you would initially strike him as unusual.
The real problem would be that he simply talks about you constantly. You'd become an almost ridiculous fixture in his conversations, to the point that the Knights would eventually know far more about you than they ever intended to.
Someone could mention a meal they had recently eaten and Varka would immediately remember something you'd once said about that particular dish. He'd return from an expedition with some strange object he'd found along the way and immediately start telling everyone how you'd probably love it, or how you would have laughed at something he'd seen, or how he wished you'd been there to see a particularly beautiful view.
Even when he was hundreds of miles away, you'd somehow find your way into his thoughts. He'd be walking through unfamiliar territory and suddenly wonder what you were doing back in Mondstadt, whether you'd eaten yet, whether you'd enjoyed the weather that day, or whether you'd have liked the place he was currently standing in.
He'd talk about you so naturally that he wouldn't even realize how often your name came up. "She'd love this place," he'd remark while looking over some distant landscape, only to continue talking about you for another ten minutes without noticing he'd completely changed the subject.
The Knights would eventually exchange knowing looks whenever it happened. Varka, meanwhile, would remain oblivious.
If someone teased him about it, he'd simply laugh. "What? I'm allowed to talk about someone I like," (the other knights would be frustrated how easily he's throwing around those three words).
He'd insist that he was merely fond of your company, yet somehow another story about you would inevitably follow.
His affection would be just as obvious when you were actually nearby. At gatherings, he'd naturally keep you within reach, throwing an arm around your shoulders while talking to someone else or casually drawing you closer whenever the crowd became too dense.
If he noticed you becoming overwhelmed or uncomfortable, he'd quietly shift the conversation so you could participate, introduce you to someone you hadn't met, make sure there was a seat available for you, or bring you something to eat before you ever thought to ask.
He'd notice whether you were getting tired, whether the room was too cold, whether you had been standing for too long, and somehow solve each little problem without making it obvious that he'd been paying attention. None of it would feel particularly romantic to him. He'd simply be taking care of you in the same easy, instinctive way he took care of people he considered important.
Once someone finally pointed out just how often he talked about you, however, Varka would actually stop and think about it. He'd initially laugh, perhaps insisting that everyone was exaggerating, until someone began listing examples.
Varka would gradually fall quiet as he realized they were right. He'd think back to all those expeditions where something beautiful had caught his eye and his first thought had been that you should see it, all the meals where he'd instinctively remembered which portion you'd prefer, and all the gatherings where he'd automatically checked whether you were comfortable before settling himself down.
He'd realize that even when you weren't physically there, some part of his mind was constantly accounting for you. The thought would be almost absurdly simple once he finally saw it. He wouldn't merely enjoy your company, you had become part of the way he experienced the world.
Everything reminded him of you because, somewhere along the way, he'd started wanting you involved in everything he experienced.
Varka would stare into the distance for a moment before slowly rubbing his chin. "Huh." Then, as the realization finally settled, a deep laugh would escape him. "Well, I'll be damned." He'd find the whole thing more amusing than embarrassing, especially when he realized how long everyone else had probably known.
After that, his behavior wouldn't become dramatically different because he'd already been treating you with affection for months.
── ( 𝒌. ) kinich would take much longer to recognize it simply because he wouldn't spend much time examining his own emotions in the first place. Before realizing he was in love with you, he'd already be making countless small adjustments around you without ever thinking of them as affection.
He'd wait for you before leaving somewhere even when there was no practical reason to do so, automatically slow his pace when you fell behind, remember exactly how you preferred to train, and quietly step in whenever you struggled with something without making a point of announcing that he'd noticed.
If you were tired, he'd alter the day's plans without complaint. If you were carrying something awkward, he'd simply take it from you. If you were struggling with a technique, he'd demonstrate it again and correct your stance with the same patient precision he used when teaching anyone else, except he'd somehow always have more time for you.
His version of quality time would be particularly practical and understated, he'd ask you to accompany him on commissions, invite you to train with him, teach you techniques he'd learned, spar with you when you wanted to improve, or let you sit nearby while he prepared his equipment.
He wouldn't need constant conversation to enjoy having you there. Your presence itself would become something he naturally accounted for. Other people would begin noticing long before Kinich did. Mualani, especially, would find it amusing how easily you seemed to slip past the distance Kinich normally maintained with people, while Kachina would notice the quieter details, how he always seemed to know where you were, how he waited for you without mentioning it, and how naturally you could stand beside him without him ever seeming bothered by your proximity.
Kinich wasn't someone who allowed just anyone to become that close to him, which made your place beside him increasingly obvious to everyone watching. He might normally keep conversations brief or prefer doing things alone, yet with you, he'd tolerate you sitting beside him for hours, answer your questions, listen when you talked, and occasionally even start conversations himself.
His acts of service would be just as subtle. He'd check your equipment before a dangerous journey, make sure you had enough supplies, adjust plans if he knew a route would be too difficult for you, or silently position himself on the side closest to whatever posed the greater danger.
He wouldn't call any of it protective. It was simply efficient. At least, that's what he'd tell himself. Even his protectiveness around other people would become increasingly obvious. If someone began acting strangely toward you, standing too close, speaking to you in a way he didn't like, or making you visibly uncomfortable, Kinich's attention would immediately shift.
He wouldn't necessarily confront them outright. Instead, he'd quietly move closer, place himself between you and the other person under some perfectly reasonable excuse, or simply call your name and redirect your attention elsewhere. His expression would remain calm, his voice level, but there would be a subtle firmness to his presence that made it clear he was paying attention.
If Mualani happened to notice, she'd probably find the whole thing hilarious because Kinich would insist he was merely being cautious. "You don't usually do that!" she'd point out.
Kinich would simply look at her and dismiss what she said.
The realization would probably come from Ajaw after he'd spent far too long watching all of this happen. Ajaw would eventually become unbearable about it, loudly pointing out every time Kinich changed his plans because you were involved, every time he automatically searched for you in a crowd, and every time he positioned himself nearby when someone made you uncomfortable.
Kinich would ignore him at first, insisting there was nothing unusual about it, but eventually even he would start thinking about the pattern.
He'd eventually pause in the middle of whatever he was doing, staring ahead for several seconds as all those little observations finally connected. "So that's what this is."
While Ajaw loudly screamed at the back of his head, "THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU!!"
There wouldn't be much outward panic, Kinich would simply become unusually quiet, processing the realization with the same patience he applied to everything else. The next time you appeared, however, the difference would be almost imperceptible. His eyes would follow you a little longer, his expression would soften when you approached, and when you sat beside him, he wouldn't merely make room, he'd shift closer without thinking.
Ajaw would immediately notice and start laughing, while Mualani and Kachina would probably exchange knowing looks because, to everyone else, the answer had been obvious for quite some time.