ᵔᴗᵔ . . 𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂

ᵔᴗᵔ . . 𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 !

ᴖ.ᴖ . . fem!reader ⁝ wc. 895 ⁝ reblog

𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵𝗲 [𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗿]

it was only a matter of time before he got a taste of his own medicine. many yearned for this fateful day to happen, however, no one predicted it to occur with his lover. it was a curveball to discover the former harbinger had been hiding a sweet woman from the public and his colleagues for years now.

aether, for one, was still in shock no matter how much time passed since the two of you asked to join him on his return to mondstadt after the fiasco in sumeru. in the present circumstances, you three—four, counting paimon—were by mingyun village when nightfall arrived. seeking shelter in a small cave, he left you two alone to pick a few jueyun chillis to prepare the famous wanmin meal for dinner.

though, apparently ignorant of the topic of your discussion, he can tell you were begging with your lover based on your body language. if he were to guess what, it must have been to gather firewood like he previously urges scaramouche to do and the young man refused because it was “beneath his status to do basic labor.”

your gentle demeanor might not say it outright but the glint in your eyes did. you are going to get what you want despite of the methods.

“please?”

“no way.” he turns his back on you and crosses his arms. he wasn’t going to fall for your schemes, he inwardly scoffs at you, his sudden change of heart didn’t mean he’s gone soft. your place as his lover won’t warrant any special treatment.

sniffle.

his shoulders tense. no. nope. he’s encountered your petty act one too many times. he knows far better than most how conniving you can be regardless of your deceitful appearance. he scoffed, and people call him manipulative…

sniffle.

“stop it,” he snaps with a hard frown, rolling his eyes, “that is not going to work on me.”

sniffle.

“ugh, when will you learn that i consider such theatrics from you tacky…” he turns around, intending to give you a proper scolding when he sees the visible tears streaking down your cheeks. “no,” he whispers, cupping your face.

his thumb tenderly caresses your cheeks, wiping them away as best as he can. “no. no, no. don’t cry,” he mutters, “i’m…” stopping himself before he can say the next word.

he was conflicted. half of him was sick at the slight pleasure he felt over your misty eyes. you were always a pretty thing. the other part of him aches over the giant realization he was the reason you were upset. his fault.

“alright!” he growls, as if it stings him to utter every syllable. “i’ll go fetch the damn fire wood, ‘just quit your crying.”

wiping away the tears, you wrap your arms around him. he was taken aback by the sudden show of affection but does return it nonetheless. his embrace warm, holding you tight against his chest.

your eyes trail around your surroundings and eventually find aether’s. it didn’t take much for the traveler to grow uncomfortable after he got caught stumbling upon the very intimate exchange. you stay silent, playfully winking at him in the end.

aether gasps, archons, were you evil.

𝗰𝘆𝗻𝗼 [𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗺𝗮𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗿𝗮]

he was not an easily impressed young man, some might call him ‘difficult to please.’ it wasn’t hard to imagine. a member of the academe could make a revolutionary discovery and all they could receive is a short hum of approval. the closest to verbal praise might’ve been when tighnari briefed him on collei’s progress.

any situation beyond that? none. for you? more to count on both hands. it was the most amusing yet exasperating thing to see! you doing the bare minimum permits more applause from him than all of their efforts combined.

to be fair, it was difficult to call out these signs of favoritism when it gets him in a good mood in exchange. nobody needed to point it out, everyone can see he has ‘heart-eyes’ for you. in a matter of seconds, he was reduced to a simple-minded loverboy in your company.

today was unlike other days, the scholars were subjected to a front row seat of your relationship. it was utterly bizarre to see the general mahamatra grinning softly, sort of.

“cyno, my love! you promised!” you whine, pouting. he was unbelievable! you thought to yourself. downright ridiculous. he swore to make time for you and accompany you on your visit to the city.

“i know, but plans change, darling. i have urgent matters to attend, my love,” he dismisses. all lies. he’s aware you would think to stop and greet your friends as well. to be frank, he’d rather avoid them and their side remarks about him and your relationship.

you didn’t respond, simply choosing to sport your infamous puppy eyes instead. he sighs to himself, oh… not this again. you were a crafty young woman, using his weakness for you against him.

he was standing strong at first yet in less than ten seconds; he breaks a wisp of a grin, one that results in your audience turning wide-eyed, and closes the space between you.

“c’mere, silly girl.” he beckons for you to draw nearer to him, and you instantly follow to glide your arms around his waist. “allow me to finish reading through this last stack and we can go.”

the 7-eleven diaries

albedo, alhaitham, childe, scaramouche, venti x gn!reader

your job isn’t the best one out there, but it’s easy and keeps you from drowning in tuition fees and rent. working at a 7-eleven on a midnight shift was supposed to be peaceful, so why is it that you constantly find yourself being bothered by weird customers? (modern au)

fluff, comedy, crack, cashier employee reader, modern au, written for fluffvember!

ALBEDO

It’s difficult not to take notice of the perpetually tired college student (much like yourself) who always comes at the latest hours to order a cup of black coffee and a can of beer. The first time you saw him order that drink was a memorable one, if only because of the way your eyes had nearly popped out of their sockets when you saw him mix the two drinks in a large, empty slurpee cup and proceed to drink it all in a matter of seconds.

Another memorable time was when he came in with only enough money to buy a bottle of water, then took a seat at a table near the counter and took out a box full of what you initially presumed were cookies. It was a traumatizing memory you look back on with a shudder as you remember the way he crunched down on it like it was a piece of biscuit instead of a motherfucking spider.

“They’re surprisingly nutritional, full of protein and fibre. It leaves a strange aftertaste, but it’s a good substitute for dinner.”

Since then, you’ve made sure to keep some food ready in the microwave for him, free of charge. He just looked so pitiful sitting by himself with dark under-eyes and greasy hair — the very image of a normal college student — that you couldn’t help yourself from taking money out of your own pocket to help a fellow comrade.

One day, he came to the store with blown pupils and a sort of dazed look in his eyes, words slurring together as he tried to explain to you how he’s finally created an edible liquid that can keep sleep at bay for at least 120 hours…with some small side-effects, but it’ll wear off with time. That’s when you found out he was a bio-chemistry student well on his way to getting a PhD at his young age.

When questioned why he drank the liquid instead of having someone else do it, his response was, “To experience it firsthand, of course. The basis of research is accuracy and precision, how could I be remiss as to leave such an important experiment to someone who could, in their ignorance, fail to mention an important detail that their mind might have labeled as useless.”

You’re not quite sure how he’s still alive by this point.

But his weirdness aside, you resolve to take care of him in your own way, from a fellow tired college student to another. You remind him to get some sleep, steering him away from eating spiders and encouraging him to eat more meat.

“But I am eating meat?”

“Albedo, that’s a spider.”

“And are you saying that spiders do not possess meat?”

“Oh, for the love of—just eat the goddamn sandwich.”

You think he appreciates it, if the way he dedicated his latest thesis to you is any indication.

ALHAITHAM

You were in the middle of answering a math problem your professor assigned that morning, papers sprawled over the counter with you hunched over it, hand in your hair and trying not to pull at it in frustration over how difficult the problem was. And then he’d come in like an angel, all perfectly shiny hair and a no-nonsense look on his face, took one look at you and the papers scattered across the counter and said one sentence that saved your grade in math.

“You forgot to put a negative sign right there.”

That was the moment you decided that he must be an angel sent from heaven. He always grunts whenever you call him that, though whether it’s from amusement or annoyance remains to be seen.

He doesn’t visit the convenience store much, but when he does, he always spares the time to help you out with whatever assignment you were working on, sometimes even taking the initiative of asking if you need his assistance in answering a problem — though he says this on a much less nicer tone.

“Are you gonna make me do your homework again?”

“My professer didn’t assign me one today, surprisingly enough, so no.”

He seemed strangely disappointed when you told him no, but you chalked it up to him being some sort of math wiz who gets riled up by equations and the like. Seems like kind of guy too, what with all the times he’s made a subtle jab at your intelligence — or lack, thereof.

“How could you possibly need a paper to calculate the answer to four-hundred and thirty-two times fifty-eight?”

“Not all of us are smarter than Rukkhadevata like you.”

“Who?”

He’s not bad company, though that opinion stems solely from the fact that he helps you (solves it for you, more like) with all your homework. Not without making comments about you lazing about on the job and letting your customer answer your assignment for you. You respond in a mature way by making fun of him.

“I’ve never seen you without those earphones. Are you hiding a pair of large ears or something?”

“No.”

He refuses to elaborate more on the subject.

Sometimes you give him a drink, usually cola or juice, as thanks for helping you out. He takes it without question, taking sips from it as he tutors you about this and that, occasionally commenting about your job and how you’re only making yourself suffer by taking on midnight shifts. You don’t see why he cares. For all that you jokingly call him an angel, you know he’s far from actually being one.

You once saw him on campus reading a book by the library. It’s easy enough to come up to him and make conversation, handing him an unopened drink you just bought from a vending machine. It just feels wrong not to, more of a habit by this point.

It’s then that someone decides to dramatically drop his books to the ground and point at you and Alhaitham. The blonde guy gapes and asks how in the world Alhaitham managed not to scare you away. His eyes zero in on the can of grape juice on Alhaitham’s hand, and then he proceeds to laugh, asking Alhaitham since when did he decide to start drinking what he once called was an unhealthy drink composed of sugar and artificial flavoring.

You made a mental note of that response, and later that night, you decide to hand him a packaged biscuit. Nothing unhealthy there. Technically.

“Good. I was beginning to wonder if I should start taking medicine in case my stomach burst from the amount of cola you hand me.”

“You could’ve just not accepted, you know.”

“It was given to me. Not accepting would be considered rude.”

“Didn’t Kaveh say you threw a bottle of orange juice to his face after he gave you one?”

“I did.”

He refuses to elaborate more on the subject, but you’ve since resolved to only give him the healthiest thing you could find on the store—which isn’t much considering this is a 7-eleven, but hey, microwaved salad is still salad, right?

He grumbles about the radiation but eats the salad anyway. Another win for you, you suppose.

CHILDE

He came in near the end of your shift, lips busted and an eye swollen shut, blood splattered all over his clothes. The grin of his face should’ve hinted you at his lunacy, but you’ve always been blind to warnings and the like, so you went over the counter and helped him up from where he’s slumped over the chips and candies isle.

Aether, your co-worker and the one who’s about to take over from your shift, only looked at you with tired eyes, “It’s too early for this shit.” That was, of course, Aether’s way of basically saying, you’re on your own.

So you picked up the ginger lying on the linoleum floors, heaving his arm over your shoulder to drag him to the nearest pharmacy — never let it be said that you were just a bystander. He groaned as the movement bothered whatever injuries he may have, but he still looked at you with wide, strangely lightless eyes, as if only now registering your presence, and said, “Holy shit, you’re hot.”

After you finished dumping him on the pharmacy and leaving the people there baffled at what to do with an injured guy, he grabbed your wrist and, with a bloody smile he probably thought was charming, handed you a piece of paper containing his number.

You never text him. Or call.

He comes back to the store a week later with faint yellow bruises across his face and a far too bright grin for someone who’s visiting a 7-eleven at two in the morning. He pouts about not getting a single text from you, but before you can respond, he’s moving on to another topic, mindlessly picking up a box of tampons by the side and setting it on the counter.

He only seems to realize what he’s done when you give him a strange look.

“Tampons are, uh, great for bloody noses!”

“…Right.”

You weren’t convinced at all, but you decided to let it slide. He seemed like a genuine guy, if a bit too enthusiastic sometimes. His mouth never shuts ups, always going on about this and that, asking all sorts of questions that would’ve normally had most normal people backing away. But your brain isn’t exactly at its best condition and being sleep deprived for the better part of your life has made it less of a brain and more of an organ that just helps you get through the day.

You don’t know exactly why he stays to chat with you, buying ridiculous amounts of stuff that were frankly far too expensive just to have an excuse to talk to you. You don’t mind it much, especially when he’s a great deterrent for any unwanted petty thieves or middle school delinquents trying to rob your store every week or so.

Apparently, he’s got a reputation for being a bit of an adrenaline junkie and being willing to fight anything and everything that breathes. And apparently, word’s gotten out that he’s into you, like, really into you, so most guys who have less-than-well intentions have decided that robbing the local 7-eleven isn’t worth the trouble if it means having to deal with Ajax.

“Actually, it’s Tartaglia.”

“Tarantula?”

“No, Tartaglia. It’s my street name! Ajax just doesn’t inspire the same fear into other people’s hearts the same way Tartaglia does.”

“Whatever you say, Tortilla.”

“It’s Tartaglia!”

He never brings up the fact that you never call or text him back, even when he’s somehow gotten ahold of your number and started sending you memes and updates about his day. When asked, he just shrugs and says he’ll win you over eventually.

SCARAMOUCHE

It wasn’t intentional, and you’ll admit it was completely your fault, but did he have to be such an asshole about you dozing off on the counter?

“Have the standards really fallen so low that employees are now afforded to sleep on the job?”

Here was this guy at two in the morning, bemoaning society’s failure in raising the new generation to have a proper work ethic at a 7-eleven store. The guy had a rolex watch and clothes that looked like they were worth more than your monthly salary — you’re not one to judge other people’s appearances, but he’s the very image of nepotism. And frankly speaking, you’re of the opinion that rich people shouldn’t be entitled to an opinion on what the working class decides do with their life, like falling asleep on the job.

…And oh, you just said that out loud, didn’t you?

Oh well, your manager will understand.

The guy with a bowl cut leaves fuming, but not before slapping a wad of cash down the counter to pay for his stupidly expensive noodles, snarling at you to keep the change since you clearly need it more than him.

You do, in fact, keep the change. Money is money, whether it’s from your salary or a rich boy throwing a tantrum.

The next day in class, a bag slams down the seat beside you, and you’re met with the same rich boy from last night, a scowl painting his rather pretty face as he hisses lowly about how he’s surprised you can afford to go to college. Talk about holding a grudge, you would’ve forgotten all about him from last night if he hadn’t given you his change.

He fumes even more when you don’t give him any sort of reaction, merely nodding your head at him and turning back to the board to listen to your professor drone on about this and that. It’s rather difficult to focus, however, when he keeps muttering sarcastic comments and barbs to the teacher beneath his breath.

“If you even had an iota of charm about you, perhaps your wife wouldn’t have filed for a divorce.”

You choked on a laugh, hand coming up muffle the sound, but he clearly noticed, judging by the way he snaps his head to you, eyes wide and seemingly surprised you found it funny. You only smile at him, an amused little thing, but he quickly looked away and murmured something unintelligible beneath his breath, his fists clenched and the tips of his ears curiously pink.

He comes back to visit your job that night, still with that air of haughtiness about him but a bit toned down. Even more surprising was the fact he didn’t immediately leave the moment he handed you his money.

“Do you want the change?”

“Are you so desperate for money that you’d go begging a total stranger for some spare coin?”

“I mean, yeah, I guess.”

“Tch, fine. You can have it.”

He never fails to come back every night, always giving you the change for his bill, even when the amount is more than the items he paid for. Sometimes, he’ll even take out a snack or a drink from the bag and slide them over to you, cheeks suspiciously red as he did so.

“Don’t think this means anything. I’m only giving this to you because I know you can’t afford it.”

“It’s literally worth ten mora.”

“Would it kill you to at least give me a thank you?”

“Thank you, Kunikuzushi. I’ll be sure to treasure this can of cola that I would’ve never been able to afford without your help.”

“Shut up.”

He buys you a tub of ice cream the next night, the ridiculously expensive kind, to prove a point. The two of you eat it together at one of the tables, him grumbling about the stain on the table and the overall lack of quality and taste — at a 7-eleven — and you laughing whatever he says.

Well, you suppose he’s not as much of an asshole as you initially assumed.

VENTI

He’s a bit popular in campus, in the sense that nearly everyone is friends with him, which makes it impossible not to have heard about that one guy who’s really great at singing. You were, unfortunately, one of the few that aren’t well acquainted with him — aren’t acquainted with him at all.

So when he comes up to the counter, all boyish grin and ridiculously short shorts and a cute little pink hair clip keeping his bangs away from his face, holding an entire household’s worth of vodka and wine, you do what any rational semi-adult would do and look at him with a blank face.

“Are you even old enough to drink?”

He laughs at you like this is a common occurrence he faces on the daily before slapping down his ID on the counter. And huh, would you look at that, he’s even older than you are.

He then lights up once he gets a good look at you. “Hey, you’re Albedo’s friend, aren’t you?” He abandons his alcohol at the counter in favor of looking around your quaint little convenient store. “So this is that 7-eleven he keeps talking about…”

You’re not exactly sure what he’s going on about, but you do know he must be a friend of Albedo’s, which makes you ease up around him. He’s nice. Sort of. If you ignore the teasing and the jokes and the way he keeps asking you to give him a student discount. For alcohol. You’d given him what you hoped was your best imitation of Kunikuzushi’s stink eye. You think you got it on point, if the way he deflates is any indication.

He comes around the store every weekend, saying he’s here to get a little treat for the awful weekday he’s had. You never fail to remind him that he has class every Sunday, to which he responds by opening a can of beer (which he hasn’t paid for yet) and sitting on the counter, bemoaning the injustice of putting classes during the weekends.

You once asked him why he keeps hanging around this store when there’s a perfectly good bar right around the corner, owned by that popular red-haired business major from your university. Venti just laughed and said he prefers the quietness here — and the company, he added with a wag of his eyebrows. He always teases you, sometimes borderline flirting, but it’s easy enough to wave it away.

The day you discovered he was actually well known in campus was when your university hosted a local event. There’d been stalls and booths set up everywhere and even a little mock-stage put up near the center for any band or singer to perform in. It’d been nice to have a break from the monotonous routine of going to class and studying then working at your job and getting less than ideal sleep.

And then you heard your name booming out from the speakers, and you turn your head to see Venti on the stage with that little lyre he sometimes carries with him to the store, saying he’d like your opinion on a song or two he composed.

He dedicates the song to to you in front of the entire student body, then proceeds to sing the cheesiest, most gut-wrenching and cringiest love song of all time.

“Why did you have to pick that song?”

“Because it’s fun and cute!”

“I sometimes question your ability to distinguish cute from horrifyingly monstrous.”

There’s a mortified look on your face, but amidst the embarrassment and the teasing remarks of his friends, there’s a smile on your face that you can’t bring yourself to wipe away.

i’ll be doing a part two on this but with diluc, dottore, kazuha, xiao, and zhongli!

@maehemthemisfit @sonder-paradise @96jnie @komiyaa @scaramouchenumber1fan @linn-a-a @wisteriaflowersss @ineriris @yesntforno @serramii @shadowmist0706 @jmgrule @imeanwatever @c00kie-cat @serramii @xtodorokismistressx @ieathairs @endlessmari @strawberryclumsy @serenity-ren-bliss @scarasbaby

Tags

this is so cute screaming rn

8K notes View Post

ichxel

2 years ago

hellooo!! could i request like a scara x gn reader, but reader is sick and scaramouche is taking care of them? Like scara is mean at first but when he realise how sick reader is he warms up and becomes very nice with a bit of fluff c: tysm!

this was so cute how scara goes from being so mean to sweet ik he actually cares abt ppl but loves to hide it,, i took a little bit of a diff approach with this bc i tried so many ideas before that didn't work so instead of the reader just being sick they're kinda freezing too lol but i hope u like it in the end, thank u sm for requesting this! if this wasn't to your liking you can always request again!

what happens...

Hellooo!! Could I Request Like A Scara X Gn Reader, But Reader Is Sick And Scaramouche Is Taking Care

synopsis: you and your boss scara get trapped in a snow storm and he helps you while you're really cold and sick

warnings: scara is degrading, you almost get hypothermia

characters: scaramouche (the balladeer) x reader

notes: i rewrote this like five times. dont talk to me.

•┈୨♡୧┈•

harsh winds singing a desperate chorus as it whirled around you, it claimed all the land in white. bounding everyone to their homes, unlucky for you, you were caught out in the storm. in other circumstances, this sight would have been beautiful to you as all of snezhnaya was, if only you weren't walking in the middle of it. you'd say you were happy when a small wooden hut appeared, it didn't look warm from the outside but it was shelter, except you had to go in with your boss.

scaramouche slammed the wooden door to the hut, blocking most of the blundering storm outside. the cabin was rotten down, boards coroading away, who ever lived here hadn't been around in probabaly years. it was stopping most of the wind, but the freezing tempature was still seeping in. he grimmaced at the situation, he'd been seperated from the rest of the fatui agents while out carrying a mission for the tsaritsa, simply on their way to catch debt from clients. this was only a minor setback, but a damn awful one. who knows how long he'd be stuck here. especially stuck with you.

you were in a corner of the house, curled into yourself to retain warmth. your thick black coat was keeping some sort of coziness but you were only human and some cloth could only do so much. damn your immune system, you'd only been curled up in here for a couple of minutes and were already sneezing uncontrollably, nose tingling and your skin in a bitter pain because of the frost. "look at you cowering away." your boss crossed his arms, glaring down at you. "we're stuck in this snow storm because of you giving us the wrong direactions. who even allowed you to join the fatui? you're obviously unfit to serve the tsarista." you who fed at his frigid words. "i bet it was that bobbleheaded childe, huh? pathetic." you knew never to show weakness infront of him, the balladeer was known to be so cruel to those who showed fear. yet in this snow storm, you couldn't care to even respond to him or say sorry about your incompetence. you swore if you stayed like this, you'd freeze over into a popsicle.

"…i'm so damn cold." you mumbled. scara pondered you with a scouring look. "oh, you're cold? well you're in snezhnaya its going to be a little chilly" his stupid sarcasm was not what you needed. you hands sting through your gloves, throat itchy and eyes watering. you tried to fight back the tears, you could not cry in front of him no matter how sick and cold you were. his eyes widened watching you shudder in the corner. he shuffled around a bit, looking to you and fro, cheeks a little flush. he hadn't expect you to seriously cry. he sighed, watching his breath swirl the air then trugded over to you.

with his hand nearing your face, you flinched at it thinking he was going to reprimand you for being so weak. yet he simply was pressing the back of his hand to your forehead, you were icy to the touch, eyes puffy and red. a tear rolled down your cheek as you sniffled, he took his thumb and wiped it away with a pout on his lip. "don't cry..." he mumbled. you weren't really sad just your body reacting to the uncomfortable reality you were in. "let me see your hand…" you lifted you arm to him and he pulled one of your gloves off, revealing your discolored fingers, a sign of hyperthermia.

the balladeer was no mother goose, he had no nurturing bone in his body. if he wanted to, he'd leave you here to freeze and would carry out the rest of his mission without batting an eye. instead, he gloved your hand again and held them between his. it wouldn't do him any good to let you die, he supposed. he couldn't warm you up much himself considering his...condition, he knew you were going to catch an even worse cold if he didn't do anything. so, he did the unthinkable. he sat against the wall, pulling you towards him by the waist, you were between his legs, and he curled you into his chest. it wasn't a lot of warmth, but it was enough. it was reassuring that you would be okay, you're allergies were getting to you but atleast you weren't alone in this storm.

in other circumstances, being coddled in your boss' arms would make you vomit at the thought but he was suprsingly cozy. "…tell anyone about this and i'll let you freeze in the lake." scaramouche pulled you tighter to his chest trying to get you warmer. "i'm only doing this because if you die i wont hear the end of it." "…of course, balladeer." you held back a little giggle. "i wouldn't dream of it"

maybe the balladeer was more than he seemed. maybe he cared underneath his empty heartless shell. don't tell anyone though, what happens at the hut, stays at the hut.

•┈୨♡୧┈•

dw when you guys got somewhere safe he made you tea as long as u didn't tell anyone what happened at the hut (esp childe)

272 notes View Post

ichxel

2 years ago

not proofread dumb little drabble

scaramouche used to shove you around a lot

mentally, physically, he’d do anything he could to convince you to leave your rank among the harbingers, to convince you that you were better off seen as a traitor than part of them.

he’d hurt you whenever he got the chance, urging you to stay away from him or he’d do it again.

he hated the way the wind picked up your hair sometimes

how you were so fragile and weak, and how you looked ashamed every time he struck you.

the way your eyes still widened and you cowered away with every “GET AWAY FROM ME!” he could muster out of his venomous lips.

he hated the way childe let you sleep on his shoulder, and the way he’d play with your hair as he whispered praises to you

and the way that a recent mission had gone

you’d made it to mondstadt only for the knights to find you, drug you, and use whatever methods they could to pry information from you.

by the time scaramouche had arrived to you (only because he couldn’t allow a fellow harbinger to die), you were already drugged out of your mind.

he found the fact you could barely walk incredibly amusing

but oh he hated the way you just suddenly, in your foggy mind, had the idea to kiss him.

and the way you did it so tenderly

if he didn’t know better he may have thought you weren’t drugged at all, the way your kiss was so controlled, almost loving

he hated the way it didn’t taste like alcohol or odd substances, but instead sweet and heartfelt.

he hated the way… that he kissed you back, that he melted into you like salt into water.

the way that you avoided childe once you had finally arrived back at goth grand hotel, your shivering body opting to scaramouche instead, he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you

you smelled so nice, intoxicating almost, finally laying down in the bed, next to him, allowing him to wrap himself around you so you wouldn’t be cold or feel unsafe while you were so vulnerable

vulnerable enough for him to kill you

he’d thought about it, even gone as far as to bring his knives up to your throat, it would take one slash.

yet every time, he seemed to catch sight of your lips, the way your face seemed to be disturbed and afraid even in your sleep.

“s-scara…” you’d whimper through tears, even though you weren’t awake. the 4th time you’d cried in your sleep tonight, the 4th nightmare of the night.

the way you called out his name in fear but also desperation, “master scaramouche please…” you spoke in a way that drove knives into his heart and tore it open like paper “please don’t i…. im sorry sir” he watched you shift around and plead until you eventually jolted awake, sweat dripping from your forehead and tears running down your face.

he looked at you with wide eyes. shock and something else you couldn’t quite identify filled them. you turned away quickly, apologizing profusely.

“y/n.” he spoke sternly but almost calmly “look at me when i speak to you”

you looked at him without hesitation, expecting another slap or punishment for looking away from him when you weren’t supposed to, you flinched when his hand reached out to you but never met your skin, but instead met the back of your head as he pulled you into his chest before letting go and wrapping his arms around you.

a “hug” he had seen others call it. touch. touch in an affectionate way was unfamiliar to him, only leaving him room for combat and battle, but never to understand how your skin felt or the warmth it radiated, the feeling of your heart, the feeling of you beginning to sob against him.

“master scaramouche……..what did i do wrong?” your voice seemed to break more with every word, your fear of him rising with every breath you took and tear you cried. you tried to pull away, afraid you’d get a single teardrop on his clothing and he’d make you scrub it off relentlessly, but he pulled you back in, caressing your hair.

“kunikuzushi” he spoke softly, causing you to gaze up at him with glossy eyes and skin that burned red from tears. “my name is kunikuzushi”

he looked at you again, laying his forehead on top of your forehead, doing what you did to him, placing a kiss on your lips as if they were made of the thinnest glass.

“tell me what they did to you.”

“they tied me down, and asked me questions, and hit me and gave me some… pills i think they were… it hurt kunikuzushi, it hurt so much.”

whatever softness you had seen in him mere moments ago was gone. fire reignited in his eyes and lightning touched at his soul.

“i’m just… so tired..so cold”

“rest then, suppose i should rest too”

he watched you try to lay on the ground instead of the bed, being your usual submissive and selfless personality and allowing him to have the bed, but he grabbed your wrist gently and patted the space next to him

“i will deal with our little mondstadt issue tomorrow, okay?”

you nodded your head lightly

“however your cold issue can only be solved by… becoming warm?”

you nodded again, confused this time.

“forget it. come here.”

and you found your back pressed to his chest under the covers again, warmth almost immediately consuming you

thus you gained your name

12th of the Fatui Harbingers, The Puppeteer

616 notes View Post

ichxel

2 years ago

654K notes View Post

ichxel

2 years ago

hehehe my secret santa for this year was @perpetualcynicism !! im somewhat of a lurker on your blog so it was a fun surprise to know that you were my secret santa LOL

yeah maybe i should've done another character besides cyno, but im a sucker for genshin's resident yu gi oh player so i hope you enjoy :'D

ps. the snow jokes took way too long to make... like i literally had to look them up and it was painful...

wc / 1.6k

cw / fluff, snow, painfully unfunny snow puns

“What’s winter like in Sumeru, Cyno?”

The snow haired man blinks as you lean into him more. He lets his arm relax as you swing both your hands back and forth. You lean forward to properly see his face.

“It depends. The desert or the forest?”

He watches your face scrunch up into your thinking face, hand on your chin, “The desert?”

“Well, it gets even colder than usual. It still retains the dryness, and sometimes it even snows.”

“Wow, snow in the desert? That sounds pretty cool, actually!”

“If you’d like, we could go to Aaru village to see if it snows. Candace actually told me that there’s already a thin layer of frost on the ground.”

“Really? Then let’s get packing, I want to see the snow!”

Cyno breathes out a quiet laugh at your enthusiasm. He wasn’t planning on bringing you to his home village so soon, but celebrating Christmas with you there didn’t sound bad at all.

He helps you pack your clothes, forcing you to bring more than one jacket because no you will actually freeze to death, please bring thicker clothing- and with his own cloak, prepare to leave within the next couple days.

He opts to take the route that didn’t lead to Port Ormos, instead straight to Caravan Ribat. Along the way you spotted more and more snow as you approached the Wall of Samiel. Cyno watches as you step on the white ice and complain about how your feet are cold and wet.

“This is what you get for stepping on snow with just sandals on, [Y/N].”

“Cyno, I think my toes are gonna fall off…”

“Again, this is what you get. We’re almost there, let’s greet Candace first and we can warm up afterwards.”

Candace greets you warmly, a stark contrast to her misty breath as she talks. She leads the two of you to an empty guest house, complete with an empty fireplace filled with wood. Cyno tucks a blanket around your shoulders, effectively turning you into an armless bundle of warmth.

“Cyno, Cyno, look! It swooshes around like wings!”

Cyno looks on as you spin and sway to show how the blanket hugged your body. The light from the newly lit fireplace encompasses the living room area with comforting warmth.

“It does. Make sure you don’t get angry, that’ll really ruffle your feathers.”

“That was so bad.”

You try hitting him with your blanket wings, trying as best you could to wack his arm. Cyno grips your blanket.

“Did you get it? Birds ruffling their feathers means-”

“I know what it means, let go! It’s gonna fall off and I’m cold.”

Cyno pulls you down and you land on him with a muted “oof-” as he holds you close.

“Alright, are you warm enough to go see the snow for real now? You really wanted to see snow, it’s best to see it before it turns into ice.”

Your neck snaps up to beam him a smile that stretched from ear to ear. He pats your head before you can squirm.

“Yes, please! Let’s go, I’ll bundle up properly this time!”

He watches you inch yourself up, much like a worm, and go to your bedroom to grab thicker and longer clothes. He himself puts on his usual travelling cloak with some thicker shoes. He made sure to grab some proper shoes before you two left, knowing you probably didn’t have anything to protect your feet.

He fastens up your footwear for you and before he can even stand up you’re already out the door. You’re barely a foot out the door before your breathe fogs up and clouds your vision. You turn back to see Cyno stand up and close the door behind him, hood pulled up. You tug at his hand, feet tracking footprints into the frosty floor.

“Where’re we going first? I want to see how snow falls first, I’ve never seen it snowing!”

“Is that so? I’m not sure if it will snow, but we can go out further into the desert to see how much snow there is.”

He guides you to outside Aaru Village. Eremites were probably hiding inside their camps more and more but he’s cautious enough to bring his weapon. He looks around the large open field as you bounce around in the white backdrop.

And after he looks around for a second, he’s pelted on his arm by a cold ball hurdling at him. He hears your laugh as he shakes the snow off him. As you turn around to make another one, you feel a freezing sensation on your side as you shriek at the cold.

“Agh, chill out Cyno! Ahhh, I’m sorry, have mercy!”

You bundle up some more snow in your palms, ready to assault Cyno with another snowball. Before you stand up, your vision turns white. You wipe your face and your nose tingles with the urge to sneeze. You blink and line up your shot to Cyno.

He dodges your snowball and you curse under your breath. Curse him, that shot was right to your face! You can still feel the coolness on your cheek and eyes, finally sneezing after being pelted right in your nose.

The spontaneous snowball fight ends when you collapse onto the floor butt first, laying down on the cold ground. Your quick exhales turn cloudy and disappear as soon as they come.

Cyno’s footsteps crunch on the icy floor, getting louder and louder as he approaches. Turning your neck to look at him, you’re greeted with his towering figure and the lightness of the sky above.

“Are you ok? The cold is snow joke.”

You threw a handful of snow at him.

“I’m sorry beloved, I’ll give you something warm to drink.”

You sneeze into a tissue, sniffling. The snow got to you harder than you thought. Cyno’s hands felt colder than usual on your cheeks and forehead, eyebrows furrowed the tiniest bit.

“Do you need anything else? Do you want to go to bed?”

He bites the inside of his cheek when you shake your head with a light groan. He tucks the blanket tighter around you and figures out what to get you to drink.

Tea, coffee, maybe some warm milk? You would want something sweet, wouldn’t you? Shuffling around the kitchen, Cyno opens cabinet after cabinet to see if Candace had anything that would make you feel a bit better. That was when a packet of cocoa fell off a certain shelf. Inspecting it closer, Cyno decides to grab some sugar before warming up some milk.

You wake up groggily and congested to the sight of Cyno holding a mug. When you sit up, you adjust the blanket around your shoulders so you could extend your hands to Cyno.

“What’s this?”

He leans against your torso, hair ticking your side, “Some hot cocoa. Something warm and sweet when it’s snowing is something you would enjoy, isn’t it?”

You take a cautious sip, not wanting to burn your mouth. The sweetness of the drink slowly warms your body. Cyno smiles when you let out a content sigh and lean back into the couch. His arms wrap around you and you lay your hand on his forehead. “

Wait, Cyno, you’re pretty warm too! I can’t believe I made you do all that when you were also sick…”

He puts his own hand to his head, feeling the unusually warm heat being emanated from his own self. He didn’t even realize he had a fever either, it seems.

“It’s fine, I wasn’t aware I was sick either.”

“But still! Later I’ll make you something nice to make sure you don’t get even more sick."

Before you can say anything else, Cyno shoves his face into your stomach and blows. You cough out a laugh, or choke and nearly gag.

“Agh-hahaha, Cyno, no, what the heck, don’t-hmp-”

Cyno grins to himself when he sees you smile crookedly, trying to hold back your laugh.

Eventually you manage to push Cyno enough to let you see his face. The red in his eyes stare at you with a mischief you were rather unfamiliar with and you pout.

“Ugh, I thought your jokes were bad enough, can’t believe I have to deal with tickles now.”

“It’s only with you, beloved.”

Cyno takes great pride at the redness in your face, which he knows isn’t from the fever. He lets out a slight laugh when you hit his arm weakly.

The fire crackled when you flop down to lay down. Cyno climbs to lay his head on your torso once more. His cheek smushes into your chest and it feels as if you two are ready to take a nap.

Which is exactly what you do. From finishing the last of your journey to Aaru Village and the funnest time in the snow, your body feels ready to rest for real. As you drift off to sleep, Cyno cranes his neck to look up.

He wants nothing more than to get up and move you to a bigger and more comfortable bed, but the way the fire flickers orange light over your tired face stops him. If he disturbed you now it would be a waste of a nice moment.

So he opts to rest too. You can complain about all the neck and back pains in the morning, but right now he stares at your slowly breathing self for a few moments longer and closes his own eyes, thankful to the Archons that he could spend the winter with you.

7 notes View Post

ichxel

2 years ago

ha?

every single person who reblogs this

every

single

person

will get “doot doot” in their ask box

2,381K notes View Post

ichxel

2 years ago

NOTHING LEFT TO SAY

synopsis: after an argument with albedo in his lab, you storm off while albedo is left with regret over the words he said to you. wanting nothing more than to take back what he said, albedo sets out to apologize to you. unfortunately, it seems as though everything is getting in the way of him doing so

or, in other words, the three times albedo tried to apologize to you, and the one time he actually did

based on this request!

characters: albedo x gn!reader

wc: 4.7k

warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, arguments, a tiny bit of swearing, descriptions of injuries and blood (not caused during the argument), established relationships, albedo is probably a bit ooc at times

notes: to the anon that sent this request to me, i am so sorry it took me around 5 months to actually write this request! i never meant for it to take this long, but i swore i would write it and i made sure i did. honestly i just wanted to make sure it was out before the year was over because i really liked the idea and didn’t want you to have to wait any longer. i hope you enjoy this <3

“I need another beaker,” Albedo said in his ever so monotonous voice.

Your eyes glanced hurriedly around the lab, “Albedo? We’re out of beakers. You used all of them.”

An annoyed sigh left Albedo’s lips for what had felt like the millionth time that afternoon. Coincidentally, it was also the first time he had looked at you all afternoon. You weren’t sure what was bothering him, but it was clear it was not something he wanted to talk about. Unless, of course, it was just one of those days where everything seems to piss him off. It could’ve been either of the two, and it was impossible to know which.

Albedo’s eyes left yours as he turned to look through his cabinets. A slight slamming sounded out after he shut each one with a little more pressure than usual. Frustration was running through his veins. It was just as you said, there really were no beakers left.

“Albedo? Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, “You know if you ever want to talk about anything, I’m here.”

Albedo sighed again, “No, I’m fine. Let’s just continue working.”

“No, Albedo, I —” the crashing of glass rung out through the air, cutting you off from speaking. In your attempt at finding out what was wrong, your hands had begun moving with your words and soon enough they knocked a beaker full of chemicals onto the floor. Silence was what remained.

It had been nearly a full minute before either of you spoke again. You were too shocked and Albedo was far too calm looking for you to tell what he had been thinking. Soon enough, you realized that the chemicals that were now puddling on the floor were ones imported from Natlan. It had taken him an entire six months to obtain them.

“Get out.” Albedo said calmly.

“Wait, Albedo- I’m sorry! I know those took you forever to get, but I’ll fix it. I swear. Archons, I’m so sorry!”

Albedo’s icy blue eyes finally met yours for the second time that afternoon, “What don’t you understand? I said get out. I don’t need someone like you hanging around me if all you’re going to do is ruin my experiments.”

“Someone like…me? Albedo, I’m your lover. I’m not just— just some random person or your assistant or your intern or whatever! You don’t get to treat me like that,” you angrily spoke, “If you want me gone, then fine. I’m leaving. Don’t bother trying to find me — If you even care, that is.”

Those were the last words you had said to him before you stormed off. Albedo didn’t feel human emotions like every one else, but he was sure what he was feeling right about now was regret. He didn’t mean what he said to you. Dammit, he loved you — Albedo was sure of that. Now all he had done was ruin that too.

Apology Attempt #1: One Day After The Argument

Albedo sighed as he fiddled with the pen in his hand. Staring down at his papers for hours hadn’t been what he intended to do today, but he just couldn’t focus. It was cold in his lab, just as it always was. But today was different. The air felt different. Albedo was used to the cold, but not in the way it was when you were gone.

It was hard for him to admit it, but Albedo just isn’t the same when you’re not around. The way you encourage him makes him feel all warm inside — a feeling he doesn’t quite understand, but welcomes regardless. He feels more like himself, more at home.

So why did he have to go and ruin it?

Albedo’s eyes shut tightly and he let his head slump dramatically against his desk, disrupting the papers among the top of it. Normally, he’d get upset at such disorganized actions, but today he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he was able to get any work done anyway.

“Albedo!” a high pitched voice run out in his lab following the sound of the door opening. Albedo begrudgingly spun his chair and opened his eyes, a fake smile on his face.

“Hi, Klee,” he spoke softly. Although he didn’t have the energy to deal with her today, the alchemist couldn’t possibly push her away.

“Oh…where’s Y/n?”

Albedo fought the urge to wince at your name, forgetting that Klee was unaware of his regrettable argument with you, “They aren’t here right now, Klee. Is there something you needed them for?”

“No, but you’re always with Y/n. It’s weird that they aren’t here.” Albedo’s eyes widened ever so slightly at the little elf’s words. Was he really around you that much?

“It’s complicated right now, Klee. You see, I said something I never should have said and I hurt their feelings. I’m just trying to figure out a way to fix it and then they’ll be back, okay?”

“Oh! Oh! I know! You should get them flowers! Y/n loves flowers!” Klee said as she jumped up and down excitedly. A small smile cracked onto Albedo’s face at her excitement.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try. Thank you, Klee.”

Klee was gone soon after with Jean pulling her away. Albedo had taken that as his chance to go out to pick some flowers for you up on Starsnatch cliff. The wind had blown them around, but the Cecilia’s he had picked were as beautiful as ever. They were your favorite flowers, one of his favorite facts about you — mostly because they were his favorite flowers too, something you had bonded over when the two of you had first met. Albedo smiled to himself when he remembered the bouqet he had gotten for you on your first date and the way you smiled when you saw them in his hand. The painting he had done of you later that night still remained in his lab up on Dragonspine. It was a moment he never wanted to forget.

Truthfully, Albedo wasn’t much of a flowers guy, but he would make an exception for you. Only now, he hoped the flowers would hold the same amount of love in them even when they were followed by an apology.

When he had returned to Mondstadt’s gates, flowers in hand and apology replaying throughout his head, Albedo set out to find you.

Luckily for him, it hadn’t taken long at all. As soon as he had walked toward Good Hunter, he had spotted you sitting at a table. Sitting around you were some of your guys’ coworkers and friends, Eula and Amber. There was plenty of food at the table, Amber was talking excitedly while Eula had an unusually bright smile on her face, and your eyes were creased as boisterous laughter fell from your lips.

The fondness in the alchemist’s eyes seemed to slip away as they made their way back to the neatly tied bouquet of Cecilia’s in his hand. Albedo looked to you again before looking back to his flowers. His hands clenched around them tightly as his mind fought back and forth.

Dammit, he thought. Truthfully, Albedo wasn’t sure what your reaction to seeing him would be and there was no way he was going to ruin your outing.

Albedo’s eyes were glued to the floor as he dreadfully turned and walked away from you, flowers still in hand and hung loosely by his side. At any moment, he felt they would slip and fall from his grip.

And by the time he got back to the Knights’ headquarters, the sunset faded into darkness and the clouds had moved in to cover the night’s moon. As he walked in, he was immediately met with the sight of Klee waiting in the corridor with her backpack all packed up for the day.

“Albedo!” She cheered when she saw him.

“Hi, Klee,” he spoke tiredly, “Is Jean about to take you home?”

“Yep!” Klee said happily before her eyes wandered to the flowers in his hands, “Are those for, Y/n?”

Albedo looked to the flowers in his hands before kneeling down in front of Klee, “They were, but uh — Y/n couldn’t take them today.”

“Awww, so Klee’s idea didn’t work?” Klee frowned.

Albedo sighed as he thought of what to say to cheer her up. The small fake smile he had shown to her earlier returned to his face once more, “No, but that’s okay. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I gave them to you.”

“Really? Thank you, brother!” Klee jumped as she hugged him. Albedo laughed softly as he returned the hug. At least he was able to make someone happy today.

Apology Attempt #2: Three Days After The Argument

Day after day, everything was beginning to feel the same. An endless blur of work and experiments. Albedo just wanted you back and it had only been three days. It wasn’t that you were ignoring him, really. It just seemed like the circumstances never seemed to line up for the two of you. The fact that you guys didn’t live together certainly didn’t help.

Albedo glanced at his clock again for the first time in hours. It was nearly five in the afternoon now and Albedo had been so concentrated on finishing his experiment papers that he hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten.

Staring down at his papers, Albedo studied their contents. He wasn’t usually one to look at his work and think, “Good enough,” but tonight it would just have to do. The words on them looked rushed, scribbles almost. The lines between words seemed to blur together like watercolor, rendering them barely legible. But even so, Albedo grouped them together carefully into their assigned folder and set them aside for tomorrow.

The bag the young alchemist usually carried to work was hung by his side once again as he exited the door to his office. Turning behind him, he locked it haphazardly. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he completely locked it, but he wasn’t in the mood to care either. It was incredibly unlikely anyone would try to break into a Knight’s office anyway.

Albedo tried to tune out those in the corridor around him on his way out, but it was just no use. Why was it so busy tonight anyway? He certainly did not know and it wasn’t like he cared either. It didn’t look important so he had no use to bother with it. Keeping his eyes turned to the floor, Albedo carefully pushed around a few people before he got to the door. But before he could even reach for the door handle, a hand was placed on his shoulder followed by the sound of his name.

“Albedo?” the familiar voice of the librarian spoke, “I thought that was you. How come you’re leaving so early? I was hoping to catch you a little later if I’m being honest. Didn’t expect you to be on your way out so soon.”

Albedo huffed before turning around, “Hello, Lisa. I’ve been working all day and I’ve got some other stuff to do anyway. You know, preparing for a Dragonspine experiment that’s coming up in a week. I’m still missing some materials for it.” His excuse was as good as any other, and it wasn’t like Lisa would question him on it seeing as it lined up with all of his other work. And if she had noticed, she certainly didn’t say anything. He could only assume Klee had babbled about his current predicament to her and Jean. Hell, all of the Knights probably knew about it by now.

Yet, the smile Lisa had greeted him with still remained as bright as ever, “Oh, it’s no worry, sweetheart. But I did have to ask, have you completed the paperwork for that last Dragonspine expedition Jean asked you to do? You know, the one with the Liyue detectives? I know it’s a lot of work, especially since it deals with foreign affairs, but Jean really needs it done by next week and you know how stressed she gets…”

Lisa seemed to trail on forever sometimes, it was one of Albedo’s least favorite things about her. Admittedly, he had stopped listening to her about half way through her little rant. Of course he knew about the papers, they had been sitting on the edge of his desk for about a week collecting dust. And how could he forget about them when they stuck out so abnormally, they were clear as day not part of his experiment. But even still, they would have to wait. It wasn’t that important, especially seeing as the investigation led to absolutely nothing and he had far more important things to worry about right now.

Albedo continued to absent-mindedly nod along as the librarian spoke. Sometimes he would chime in with an mhm or a really? Not that Lisa seemed to care he wasn’t really paying attention. A glimpse of a certain uniform seemed to catch his eye though, and as quickly as he had become bored, he had snapped out of it.

Once he registered it was you, Albedo instantly began nodding faster. Dammit, why couldn’t Lisa just stop talking right now? Couldn’t she see he had places to be?

Albedo’s eyes continued to glance back and forth between Lisa’s face and the back of your head, following your movements whenever he could so he wouldn’t lose you in the crowd of Knights. He had to fix this, he had to.

“Anyway, Albedo,” Albedo’s eyes snapped back onto Lisa’s at the mention of his name, “Just make sure you get that file to Jean. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Uh, yes, of course,” he hurriedly said, “See you tomorrow.”

As Lisa walked away with her goodbyes, Albedo felt his legs move on their own. A string of sorry ‘s and excuse me ‘s fell from his lips as he pushed his way through the corridor and around all of the people. His eyes were locked on you — until they weren’t. Panic set into his bones as he hurriedly glanced around only to not be able to find you.

If only Lisa had just finished talking sooner — no, if only she didn’t talk to him at all. Maybe he could’ve gotten to you, said he was sorry and restored your relationship. Maybe he could’ve held you in his arms tonight like he always does. Maybe he could’ve said he loved you as you fell asleep. And maybe, he could’ve kissed good morning you when you woke up tomorrow. Maybe he could’ve had you back.

Now you were gone and he had to wait even longer. Albedo bit his lip in frustration, hands forming into fists at his sides. A gentle sigh escaped him as he pushed the doors open to the Knight’s headquarters and slipped out silently.

If only he had noticed you standing by the door on his way out.

Apology Attempt #3: Five Days After The Argument

It was March Fourteenth now. The sky was dark and a little overcast, but not enough to cover the stars or the moon. Loud chatter and excited laughter could be heard from outside of Angel’s Share. Albedo stood silently outside of the door, dusting his outfit off. A little gift bag with a few colorful balloons printed on the side of it sat gently in his right hand. It was Jean’s birthday and everyone had been invited to celebrate at Diluc’s bar.

Hesitantly lifting his hand up to the handle, Albedo opened the door. A small smile made its way to his face as he gave a small wave to everyone inside. It would seem he was the last one to arrive.

Before his eyes even had the chance to look for you, Sucrose and Kaeya were in front of him. “Albedo, welcome!” Sucrose had warmly greet him. Kaeya smiled and took the small bag from him and placed it on a table where all the other gifts were. Soon enough, even Timaeus had joined them and walked the group over to the bar where Diluc had been bar tending

“Albedo, good to see you,” Diluc spoke. Albedo nodded and returned his welcoming words. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Water is fine. Thank you.”

The atmosphere was nice, Albedo noted. It was warm and no one was being overly talkative with him. The food was good and his water was a little too cold for his liking, but he hadn’t minded too much. A breath of air silently left his lips as he fiddled with the cup in his hands. Truthfully, Albedo had no intention of actually showing up tonight. A birthday party wasn’t really his scene, but if there was even the slightest chance he could finally see and talk to you again, he’d take it.

“Looking for Y/n?” Diluc’s voice rung out, interrupting Albedo’s thoughts.

“Oh, uh — yeah. How did you know?”

Diluc smiled knowingly, “You just look a little lost. Everyone knows how much you love them, so it’s a little odd to see you without them. They’re talking to Rosaria over there.”

Albedo’s eyes followed the direction Diluc pointed in, only to see you looking right back at him. You gave him a small, yet, sad smile before averting your eyes and turning back to talk to Rosaria again. Albedo knew it was impolite, but perhaps now was a good time to pull you away. Besides, Rosaria wouldn’t care if he interrupted — at least, he hoped she wouldn’t.

But before Albedo could even get up to talk to you, a small hand had wrapped itself around his own. His eyes snapped down to find Klee smiling at him. “Brother! It’s time to cut the cake and give Master Jean her presents. C’mon, c’mon!”

Klee continued to tug at his hand until he got up. Setting his glass down at the bar, Diluc gave him a pitiful look. At least he was saved from the rest of that conversation, Albedo thought. It was getting far too personal for his liking. Seriously, did everyone in Mondstadt know about your argument?

On his way over to the table, Albedo felt someone watching him. When he glanced up, he found your eyes on him again. Although, this time, an amused smile was on your face as you watched Klee drag him to the table. It was rather comedic, he could at least admit that. If anything, he was just glad to not see you look so saddened by the sight of him — even if he was a little embarrassed.

As soon as the “Happy Birthday” song had been sung, everyone cheered around the table. One by one, Jean opened each and every gift with a smile and a thank you following suite. It was a comfortable little gathering, seriously, it was. But, Albedo couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. His eyes wandered around to everyone at the table. Everyone was radiating with happiness and cheer — even Rosaria, who always looked like she was on the verge of murdering someone.

It didn’t feel right.

The alchemist stared down at his feet. He couldn’t help but think he didn’t deserve to be having a good time right now, not when he was aching over the words he had said to you a few days ago. Until he could apologize to you and make things right again, how was he supposed to live with himself? And even if could find the time to apologize to you tonight, he knew he couldn’t do it anyway.

Although he nearly took his chances earlier, Albedo knew it would bring down the mood of the party — regardless of whether everyone would witness it or not. For the most part, you had looked happy tonight and Albedo didn’t want to ruin that, nor did he want to spoil Jean’s birthday.

Albedo breathed deeply in and out quietly to himself. Normally, in times like these, you would be walking right up to him, realizing he was feeling out of place again and offering to leave with him. It was one of the things he loved most about you; the way you always cared so much for him and still loved him regardless of his struggles with his social life…it never left his gratitude. Albedo stepped back from the group who was still cheering and eagerly watching Jean open her gifts from everyone. She had already opened his gift, so it would make it a lot easier to just slip out unnoticed.

Quietly, he headed toward the door without a word. Not even Klee — who always had a knack for finding him — had noticed his absence. Albedo grabbed his coat and slipped it on quickly before heading toward the door. And for the final time that night, Albedo’s eyes met with yours.

The look in each of your eyes was the same — longing, sad, and yet so full of love. This time it would seem as though it wasn’t the Gods who had gotten in the way of his apology, but rather Albedo himself. His eyes hesistantly, and rather shamefully, pulled themselves away from your own. And with that, he opened the door and left without a word.

Apology Attempt #4: Six Days After The Argument

The day after Jean’s party, Albedo felt even more miserable — if that was even possible. He never slept much anyway, but last night was horrible. Running on practically nothing, he felt awful. Not to mention, all of his social battery had ran out from the party. And all he could think about now was how much he regretted going.

Albedo didn’t mind the cold, but last night his house was unbearably frosty, making his night even worse. Not being able to handle being at home anymore, Albedo made his way to his lab at the Knight’s of Favonius at an ungodly hour. The sun hadn’t even risen and there wasn’t a single person outside except for him by the time he had arrived.

Hours had passed until more people started filing in. Noelle was among the first to arrive, cleaning up and preparing everything for the day. When she had found Albedo, her eyes went wide and she flooded him with questions to make sure he was alright. The young maid had even pointed out the dark circles under his eyes, something Albedo hadn’t even known was possible for him.

Soon, everyone had arrived and the building became a lot louder. Albedo had groaned as his head fell to his arms on his desk. Couldn’t it just be a little more quiet around here? Albedo hadn’t even drank any alcohol last night, yet it practically felt like he had a hangover with the headache he had.

The sound of the door opening and then shutting quickly alerted Albedo as his head shot up to see who walked in. He knew it wasn’t Klee because she always had the ever so annoying habit of slamming the door open. It certainly wasn’t Sucrose because she had been assisting Timaeus today. The flash of a white lab coat and clipboard in hand allowed the air in the back of Albedo’s throat to get stuck.

Shit, he didn’t know you were coming back today.

You hadn’t spoken a word to him as you walked passed. You didn’t even look at him. Though, it wasn’t like Albedo was expecting you to. You had every right to still be mad at him and knew that well enough. Today would be the day he would apologize. he swore it to himself. There was no way he would let a full week pass before he got the chance to apologize to you. Celestia would not get in his way today.

Though it seemed as though it would have to wait. It was too early and Albedo hadn’t even thought of what to say. He’d had his original apology of course, but now it had been days and that surely wouldn’t be enough to explain why he couldn’t utter an I’m sorry to you. He needed something better, something more heartfelt. Albedo had been miserable without you over the past few days and he hadn’t even known he had the capability of feeling that way for someone else until now.

Crash!

Fear washed over Albedo’s body once he heard the sound. He had been so lost in thought that he’d barely noticed it at first. But with only a tiny hallway separating the labs between you, it was inevitable that he’d have heard it eventually. Rushing out of his seat, Albedo had hurried down the hall where he heard you hiss to yourself.

In the room, he’d found glass shattered all over the floor and chemicals pooling together. It had almost looked like the scene at which your argument happened. Albedo’s eyes widened once he saw your hand, which was cut and completely covered in blood. His legs carried him over to you in an instant before he knelt down in front of you.

Albedo’s hands gently cupped themselves around yours. Your blood had even began to drip along his own hands. You knew Albedo had been rather particular about that, always blabbering about the lack of sanitation of it. Yet, it didn’t seemed like he cared much as he continued to hold them. His eyes darted around your lab, urgently looking for a sink and some medical supplies. When he spotted it, he gently placed one arm around yours while the other remained under your cut hand while carefully walking you over to it.

The medical supplies were out in an instant as Albedo began to work on your hand while you sat on the counter. The cut wasn’t too bad, if anything, it was the chemicals that had gotten into it that made it worse. No words were exchanged between the two of you during the time. You were sure it would have been painfully awkward if it wasn’t for the fact that Albedo had been incredibly concentrated on fixing your hand up.

The ticking of the clock wasn’t helping. It was quite literally the only sound in the lab — save for your occasional hisses and winces from the pain. And, soon enough, an entire hour had passed before Albedo had finished cleaning and bandaging your hand. You studied the bright white bandages that adorned your dominant hand as Albedo began cleaning up the various bandages and other supplies.

As soon as he had put the medical kit away, you had hopped off of the counter and stood right in front of him. Albedo hadn’t moved and instead was gazing into your eyes. Throughout all the time you had known him, you had never seen so much emotion mixed deep within them.

Say something.

Anything.

Please.

Albedo’s mouth opened and shut again and again. No words could make their way out, it seemed. Eventually, he just shut it for good and sighed to himself. One step forward and then another and then another. A sad and tired smile graced Albedo’s face as he collapsed against you, pulling you into a warm embrace. As if on instinct, your arms locked around his abdomen and your head rest against his chest.

“I have so much to say. But let me just start with saying, I am so sorry”

“Shhh,” you cooed. An entire week without each other. Miserable as he was, you were unfathomably worse. You could talk for hours later if you wanted, days even. You didn’t care about his formal apology right now, because all you wanted right now, was to be with him. It was clear he wanted the same.

There was nothing stuck between the two of you now. Albedo wasn’t much for believing in the idea of Gods, but he was glad they hadn’t gotten in the way once more. And as he held you tightly in your lab, he knew everything would be alright.

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