POSTER
eager to finally get the full package of being a returning legendary commander, a certain winery owner instead cuts the celebrations short.
TAGS: diluc x afab!reader, varka x afab!reader, jealousy, basically varka fucks around (unknowingly) and finds out lol
NOTES: this lovely idea came from @crowttore !! varka SHOULD be banned for leaving jean with so much work (and just because i say so MUAHA)
WORD COUNT: 1.6k
You are probably working the busiest shift Angel’s Share has had in years.
Although Mondstadt is known for ordinary nights akin to festival gatherings, you’re certain the celebration of the Grandmaster’s return is even grander than any kind of festivity. The tavern is abuzz with a full crowd, as tales and drinks pass around the whole room freely. Your patrons are especially generous tonight—ordering vintages and the finest ingredients for mixes left and right, racking up large tabs as if their pockets would never run dry. You’re sure you are due for a hefty paycheck once the night is over. One that you’ll only earn if you give the best customer service a bartender could ever offer.
Customer Service, that is, entertaining the man of the hour’s shameless flirting included.
Having only been on staff for 3 years, you have never encountered the Knight of Boreas beyond the times he was on official business, before he left for the expedition in Nod Krai. Charles says that Varka hasn’t changed—just definitely downing a lot more liquor than he used to. It all makes sense, really. Who wouldn’t want to drink carelessly after conquering trials you’d only hear of in legends?
You just wonder if he is usually this friendly with women.
You can feel his stare by the bar, locking onto you every few minutes or so, flashing you a toothy smile on the occasion you happen to catch his gaze. Shamelessly.
Whenever you would pass by his table to gather empty glasses for a refill, he would have you linger a moment longer—asking whatever he can know about you, always making sure to slip a compliment before you leave. As if that weren’t enough, he would continue on when you return, seemingly never getting enough of your replies.
At this point, you’re sure he’s only drinking to keep talking to you.
“Should you really be going through rounds of Death after Noon this quickly, Grandmaster?”
“I won’t be dead after noon just because of this, my lady,” he laughs, grinning as you place the said mix in front of him, “You can’t blame me, who would not want to drink something made by a stunning beauty?”
“Careful now, that concoction might just be slipped with something unsavory,” you reply, clearing your tray of refills to his companions, who already have their heads on the table. “I believe this is the last turn of the celebrations tonight, good sir, is there anything I can get you before you go?”
Varka clutches his chest dramatically, curling the cloth over his chest, “You wound me, my new favorite bartender. Five years’ worth of hardships yet you turn me away from a good time just as I’ve finally return to leisure—“ He flings his hand by the side, which you figure is his act of throwing his heart away.
You roll your eyes at his antics. “Would that be all, sir?”
“Ah, how cold, I suppose this really must be good night.”
He rises from his seat, stumbling a bit, before taking a step toward you while maintaining a respectful distance despite the influence of alcohol. He offers his hand, which you stare at confusingly, hesitantly placing yours atop his.
The golden knight gives you a handshake. “It is nice to meet you.”
He then lifts your hand towards his lips, shifting his hold onto your fingertips as he presses a light kiss on your knuckles— an act that instantly flusters you.
He grins stupidly again. “I’ll see you tomorrow, eh?”
You quickly pull your hand back, turning your face anywhere but him.
What the hell, what the hell, what the hell. Did he really just do that?
But before you can even respond, a looming figure does it for you.
“There won’t be a tomorrow. We’re closing. Please leave.”
Diluc steps in between you both, bumping into Varka as he passes. There is a scowl etched to his face— sharp, absolutely displeased. You wonder what set him off so suddenly, when not even a full house had shaken him earlier when the celebrations started.
He slams his hand by the table you were serving, jolting the sleeping knights awake, startling the rest of the room.
“Don’t forget to settle your tabs,” voice low, full and firm.
He turns to you, gesturing towards the bar.
You quickly follow his silent orders, watching from behind the counter as he stares off practically the mayor of the town into submission. Varka, drunk but not stupid, ushers his men to take their exit with him, knowing better than to test the young master’s change of demeanor. This prompts the rest of the crowd to follow suit, after dutifully handing their payment.
Before the grandmaster could fully step out of the door, however, he looks over his shoulder right back at you, fluttering his eyelashes before flashing you a wink. He gives you that hideously charming grin again, shamelessly adding, “Tomorrow, miss, okay?”
Diluc steps forward, urging the knight to fully step out, then shuts the door just right— nearly hitting Varka’s back. Just as quickly as he made a scene, he marches off to the cellar, deliberately ignoring the confused looks you and Charles send his way. Heaving a heavy sigh, he takes in the stillness of being alone in a room with nothing but barrels.
He’s displeased. He is absolutely displeased, alright. The sight of you being flustered by that gigantic dog had made his stomach curl. He wonders how many more impulsive incidents might come from the hold you have of him, simply by being yourself. Diluc is painfully aware that if not for the manners instilled to him by his father and the obvious fact he doesn’t have any right to be upset over you simply doing your job, or over you in general, he was certain what happened earlier would have ended very differently.
Tomorrow, my ass.
No right of you, manners present or not—Diluc is still a petty man.
And a petty man would make sure that not even the man holding the highest position in the city could stop his unreasonable decisions.
A hangover would never stop a man deprived of home.
As Varka sneaks off from his office again, leaving an entire stack of paperwork, along with his still recovering companions to set off for Angel’s Share, he already plans what specific mixes he would indulge in that should only be made by the stunning bartender he never encountered before the expedition.
What a pity it was, truly, to not have been graced with the picture of a beauty much earlier with the years past. No matter, he would just make up for it now, practically skipping ahead his men. Their own giddiness, however, suddenly drops the moment they reach the tavern doors.
Varka peaks over, confused. “What’s the matter, boys?”
The awkward silence unsettles him. He steps forward, following where the knights are pointing at. He expects a threat— only to be met with a poster bearing his features, drawn rather offensively.
BANNED.
In bold red lettering across the top. Beneath it settles an awful portrait of his face that does not do him justice at the slightest. It was as if he is not a Grandmaster, but a wanted criminal for the most horrific crimes committed in all of Teyvat.
Varka is left just as dumbfounded as the crowd beginning to gather around his men.
“Preposterous! Who would dare pull such a terrifying prank?” He exclaims dramatically.
Before anyone could further his cause, the owner of the establishment cuts through the crowd, standing his ground directly by the poster.
“I assure you, it is not a prank, Grandmaster.”
“Diluc, my boy! How could this be!? Why would a loyal customer be subjected to such treatment?”
The redhead crosses his arms, leaning against the door, “As the head of this business, don’t I get a say which patrons are permitted entry, especially if they are known to cause trouble?”
Varka opens his to mouth to protest, only for Diluc to cut him off with a sharp look.
“I dont normally suggest our customers to try our own competitors, but Cat’s Tail is just around the corner and would surely serve you to satisfaction, Grandmaster.” His gaze hardens. “For now, you are not welcome. End of story.
End of story, indeed.
As Diluc ignores the various snickers rising from the spectacle of banning a man others might consider too valuable to refuse— he couldn’t care less. Because just beyond the door, inside the tavern, is something he’d rather keep to himself.
You.
Varka can only stare, mouth wildly agape, as the door shuts firmly in front of him. Poster still plastered on.
this took me an alarmingly long time lol, HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOML DILUC. please leave a reblog or reply if you liked it, they’re very much appreciated.
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