THIS MEANS WAR II

Who is she?

Someone new comes in

ft. Satoru, Suguru, Choso, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji

CW: Angst

A/N: Hi besties! Here we have the 2k celebration smau. I have to say, I had a lot of fun making this. It was tied up between fluff and angst for the celebration but ultimately angst won by a dick hair hahaha. Don't worry fluff lovers, there's things to come for you guys. After all, it's almost valentines day 😉

Of broken promises..

Genshin Men, completely forgetting about your birthday

Characters included: Xiao, Cyno and Childe

Summary: Your special day was just around the corner. You were very ecxited about it, since your boyfriend told you he had something very special planned for you. But things turned out different than you had expected..

Content (Warnings): Angst; Hurt/no comfort; established relationship; characters may be slightly ooc; misunderstandings; gender neutral reader; not proof read yet

Read Part 2 here

Word Count: 4.2k

I was in the mood for some angst, so now here I am, writing this and taking you all with me. I don’t know why I’m so drawn to drama and hurt, but I find it easier to write than fluff and other stuff. As always, feel free to point out any mistakes I may have made, I very much appreciate it!

Well then, I hope you enjoy reading this little piece I brought you all!

Seguir leyendo

Not tonight.

in which the jjk men cancels their valentines plans with you.

‹ 3 incl: gojo, toji, sukuna, geto, choso, nanami.

have fun reading!💘

conts: angst.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!!

© gojodickbig on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

just a pretty face part four (pre-relationship)

summary: let me explain !! warnings: angst, talk of drinking, talk of food, suggestive, language, slut shaming, 18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact, not proofread incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, shiu, sukuna, choso, ino ps: if your not being tagged, check your settings

this is kinda a filler chapter to show how the jjk men are reacting before the real drama happens. im kinda stuck between a few different options for ch. five, so peer pressure me into what you guys want !!

part one, part two, part three, part four

taglist: @higuchislut @entr4p3 @waterfal-ling @yourname-exee @kuro-chi69 @ourfinalisation @erishishigami @your-favorite-god @queenmimis @b0nez9 @mikorinstan @spookypeacesandwich @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @ventila98 @viatorem-maris @reivunzu @softobvvillion @blurpleuni-squid @hellv1ra @shesabeeler @tatsuomii @mortallyshadysoul @animereaderinsertwriter @v1x3n @satoruswifeyyyy @indiewritesxoxo @justbelljust @emi311 @rosieandthethorns @r0ckst4rjk @rawwrrgal @linaaeatsfamilies

her before you

angst | jjk men x f!reader

when you’re in need of them but they’re busy helping another woman you don’t have great history with

featuring: gojo, geto, sukuna, toji

pt. 1/2 (taglist closed)

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

a/n: various! x reader angst debut guys. since tl is full, you can follow the first tag for the next update!

"jealous, jealous, jealous boyy.." ft. diluc

bro was discombobulated

"jealous, jealous, jealous boyy..." w/ kazuha (ft. aether)

scammers get scammed buddy

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it

word count: 10.9K (whoops)

note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3

jjk masterlist

never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything. 

you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights. 

his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to. 

and he seems to despise you.

you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore. 

he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you. 

but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back. 

you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three. 

but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed. 

he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything. 

after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up. 

and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you. 

ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans. 

you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him. 

not that it mattered now. 

all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.

you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip. 

whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.

any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry. 

he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away. 

you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else. 

“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes. 

“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left. 

it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer. 

sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up. 

for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity. 

but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from. 

“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples. 

“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone. 

you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged. 

he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies. 

he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle. 

it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak. 

“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife. 

if only you knew.

“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long. 

you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say. 

“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you. 

“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it. 

“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features. 

and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show. 

“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk). 

he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.

“just tell them the truth.” 

the truth. 

tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up. 

tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were. 

tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms. 

tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms. 

tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position. 

you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.

“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.” 

you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.

the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind. 

you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy. 

“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him. 

you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position. 

but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.

“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door. 

“i don’t-”

“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway. 

you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself. 

---

the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 

you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered. 

you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury. 

“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.

“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.” 

he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside. 

“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating. 

you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen. 

“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate. 

“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such? 

“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”

gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you. 

“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement. 

“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”

the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away. 

you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking. 

“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless. 

gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite. 

“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic. 

“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”

“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.” 

you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind. 

a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.

“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”

“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly. 

“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this. 

“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”

your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.

“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it. 

“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you. 

you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around. 

“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile. 

“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response. 

“if you want to hide, i’ll-”

“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!” 

a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.

“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.” 

you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families. 

“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch. 

“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other. 

“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh. 

“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you. 

his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature. 

“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded. 

you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance. 

you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl. 

she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions. 

she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls. 

you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat. 

you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you. 

you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.

---

gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him. 

“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress. 

“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down. 

you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead. 

so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other. 

once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo. 

you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased. 

though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation. 

“what you saw last night-”

“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.” 

“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either. 

“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables. 

“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words. 

“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.” 

you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it. 

you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck. 

leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you. 

you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so. 

it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him. 

“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door. 

your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else. 

“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door. 

you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 

“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door. 

“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit. 

you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table. 

“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.

a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing. 

---

gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day. 

it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy. 

you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time. 

when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned. 

“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down. 

“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks. 

“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet. 

“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you. 

your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis. 

you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.

sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders. 

myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing. 

until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window. 

“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.

his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw. 

he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance. 

“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her. 

the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had. 

“are you alright?” 

you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being. 

he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either. 

“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly. 

“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you. 

“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.” 

“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you. 

“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.” 

“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable. 

“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”

you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three. 

“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure. 

“you are my wife-”

“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back. 

“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man. 

“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.  

he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. 

he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks. 

“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.” 

you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self. 

“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you. 

“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint. 

he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw. 

“what do you mean?” 

you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin. 

“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”

“letters? what letters?” 

you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 

“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”

his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing. 

“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.” 

the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement. 

“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks. 

“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.” 

you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words. 

“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you. 

“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations. 

“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face,  twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-” 

“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull. 

“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-” 

“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.” 

you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones. 

“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago. 

“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.” 

a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it. 

“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face. 

“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself. 

“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.” 

he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters. 

you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided. 

it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours. 

it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined. 

“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love. 

“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness. 

he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you. 

“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder. 

“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again. 

“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin. 

“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name. 

“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could. 

“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them. 

“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did. 

“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one. 

“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours. 

“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago. 

“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it. 

“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.

“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”

“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips. 

you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move. 

his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give. 

your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch. 

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds. 

“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin. 

“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face. 

his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.

“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him. 

“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down. 

he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this. 

but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you. 

you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.

he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.

he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping. 

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most. 

“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.” 

he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye. 

his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck. 

it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be. 

his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall. 

“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response. 

“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more. 

his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more. 

he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit. 

“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision. 

you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo. 

“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.

“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 

you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over. 

when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces. 

he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest. 

“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?” 

he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you. 

“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.” 

you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you. 

“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that. 

“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.

“and then?” 

your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face. 

“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs. 

“and then?” 

“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.” 

“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking. 

“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain. 

“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves. 

“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.

STRESS RELIEF | KAZUHA

IN WHICH: you're a picture perfect student who does nothing but study. he's a slacker who never misses a smoke sesh, but this time, you're invited.

contents- usage of marijuana

(not proofread)

the white haired boy always came late to class with nothing but a joint tucked inbetween his ear, or, some days if he's feeling extra studious, he'd replace it with a pencil. his bandaged hands were always empty, and fiddled with his red lighter under his desk in order to keep himself entertained as lecture continued.

so it was a great shock to you when after various amounts of awkward eye contact, he finally spoke to you, making an unexpected request.

"will you help me study?"

you were a straight A student, always the first one to finish tests, constantly studying in lab, and you never missed a day of class. maybe you were too good of a student and it caused you to lack friends, as your attention was always in the dimly lit screen of your laptop, hurrying to finish up an essay way before it's due date.

however, after some convincing, well more like, constant pestering from kazuha, you finally agreed.

you'd help him study at his place tonight.

that's what you agreed to anyway.

but what you didn't agree to was the high amount of awkward tension that arose between the two of you as he sat close to you, almost hovering over you as he "read" from your textbook.

"it's really not that difficult to understand. maybe let's revise it once more." you suggested, as you slowly scooted away from him.

he slightly threw his head down and let out an amused smirk at your rejection. "god, you read shit like this 24/7 while sober? i commend you." kazuha said, leaning his arm against the table as he turned his body to face you.

"well in what state am i supposed to study in? because it's certainly not drunk nor high." you sighed as you erased his math work, handing him the paper in order to redo it. "you got number 5 & 8 wrong."

he ignored your attempt at changing the topic. "you're always so caught up with your study, do you ever let loose?"

you stayed silent for a bit. you really haven't ever "let loose", you've never had time for it. but to you, it was a little lame, so you decided to lie. "yeah."

"liar."

"i'm not lying."

kazuha let out a small chuckle at your persistence. "so, you wouldn't mind rolling up right now then?"

"rolling up? uh, like, a joint?" you questioned, slightly raising your brow in suspicion.

"yeah. a joint. believe it or not, it'll help us focus a bit more. maybe i'll finally get question 5 right."

you were a bit taken aback by how casually he suggested smoking. it's not like you had anything against it but it just wasn't...you.

so you had no idea how you ended up actually considering it. i mean, exams were approaching, so you've been doing nothing but slaving yourself in the library, and as much as you hated to admit it. you were stressed beyond belief, and somehow, kazuha noticed this as well.

--maybe that's why you both ended up taking long drags of the blunt he'd rolled. with you coughing almost every time you pulled.

kazuha was nothing but amused right now. he wasn't expecting you to actually agree, and it was almost weird to him to see you like this. "so, how are you feeling?" he asked, ashing the blunt on the table before he took another pull.

"i feel okay, i guess." you lied once again. you were definitely feeling the effects of the weed. your mind that was once only filled with anxiety and stress of the next due date of your assignments was now at peace, and you were definitely more aware of your surroundings.

and you couldn't help but notice just how attractive this slacker was.

the red streak on his bangs contrasted his platinum white hair that was tied into a messy half up half down updo, but enhanced his deep red eyes that looked down at the blunt placed inbetween his lips as he relit it.

he finally spoke again as he was able to relight the blunt, taking a long pull and blowing it almost directly in your face. "wanna feel even better?" his voice was low, as sultry as the corners of his mouth curved into a mischievous smirk.

"like, how?"

kazuha placed his free hand on your thigh, slowly running it further up to your inner thigh as he leaned himself close to you, his marijuana scented breath tickling your neck as he spoke.

"allow me to help you relieve some stress."

kazuha looked back at you, his usual softly hued red eyes now burnt with lust as he watched you, awaiting your response.

you were silent for a while, as the blunt burned slowly in his fingers, the smoke seemed to be the only thing that moved as everything else seemed perfectly still.

kazuha took another pull of the blunt that had significantly shortened in size. but this time, he didn't inhale it fully, he kept it in his mouth, moving the smoke side to side before he grabbed your chin, pulling your face only centimeters away from his.

he slightly opened his mouth, the smoke now more dense as it lingered within. you were slightly confused as you copied his movements, hesitantly opening yours as well.

kazuhas lips grazed against yours as he blew the smoke into your mouth, this caught you off guard, but you inhaled it nevertheless.

he didn't move his face away from yours as you inhaled the smoke. instead, his lips met yours, kissing you deeply. the taste of mint mixed with the marijuana that lingered on his tongue intoxicated you, causing you to return the kiss.

you slightly opened your mouth, allowing his soft tongue to enter, intertwining with yours as the kiss deepened and became more erotic. he pressed his body against yours further, pushing you down onto the couch.

kazuha was laying now on top of you, his hand still gripping your thigh as he slowly moved it up and down in a sensual manner. whilst his other hand still holding the blunt that was still lit.

your soft moan of pleasure and the way you interlocked your fingers into the back of his head, gripping a handful of his hair, pushing his lips deeper into yours seemed to be his turning point as he put out the blunt by pressing his against the table, refusing to break the kiss.

"you've ever been kissed like this?" his lips grazing against yours as he spoke.

"...no."

he seemed to have liked this answer as you felt his cold fingers tease your skin when he slipped his hand under your shirt and under your bra, kissing you once more, biting and sucking your tongue every time it entered his mouth.

the tension between you two was only rising as the kiss became more intimate. your body which rose in temperature was fully pressed against his, and you could feel him harden against you.

kazuha bit your bottom lip as he pulled away from the kiss, his hand still caressing your thigh in a suggestive manner.

you took a deep breath as you looked at him, and the awkwardness that was once there was now replaced by high sexual tension that pervaded throughout the room.

"i'll take you up on that offer." you finally answered.

their s/o is the dendro archon! (vol. 2)

pairings (separately!) - kaeya alberich, scaramouche, dainsleif x gender neutral reader

word count - 15,671

genre - fluff, angst with comfort, suggestive

format - hcs + blurbs

warnings - crying, yelling, slight gore and harm (wounds, blood mention), skinship, [insults, semi nudity (scara in his boxers and nothing sexual implied about it), reader is addressed as "lilium" (a codename) for half of scaramouche's, and wearing jewelry in scaramouche's], spoilers for kaeya and dain's backstories, suggestive lines and actions in kaeya's

summary - you just happen to be the dendro archon, no big deal to him, right?

a/n - woohoo!! volume two is here with my beloved <3, my beloved: the sequel <3, and my beloved: the ultimate triquel <3, (aka kaeya, scara, and dain LOL). hope you enjoy! (scara's is loooooong bc plot go brrr, just a fair warning!)

disclaimer - i literally know nothing about the dendro archon or how the dendro element works asides from the fact that it's susceptible to pyro PFBFBT- so this is my interpretation of what both the personality of the dendro archon, their powers and the dendro element itself could be like! (this was also made and written BEFORE the actual canon release of the dendro archon!)

VOLUME ONE | ALBEDO, XIAO, AND KAZUHA

kaeya assumed you were just like any other gardener he'd ever met with the exception that you sold some of the most beautiful flowers in all of teyvat

diplomats from nearby fontaine, liyue, and once even an emissary from inazuma have all stopped by the city of freedom to purchase your lush blooms

what initially got his attention was your kind nature and sweet gestures

no child would ever walk past you and not receive a special flower to don in their breastpocket or hair complete with a radiant smile from you

kaeya would often saunter up to your little trolley of flowers, eyeing the vibrant verdant vision that swung from your hips, and purchase a single blue rose

he'd then place it behind your ear, complete with his signature charming grin and a "you look good in blue, doll" before leaving with a skip in his step

naturally, he charms his way into your life and soon you find yourself donning the title of "the cavalry captain's lover", and it's a title you adore ever so much

kaeya is naturally observant, and while seeing you work with your vision he can't help but pick up on some of the oddities that occur when you're requested to appraise lands or help farmers with their crops

he's aware that the capabilities of a vision bearer are unique to each individual, but there's something odd about your ability to bring forth an entire field of flowers, or nourish a perished tree back to life with a single kiss to its trunk (he once even caught sight of you bringing an entire nursery of dead flowers back to life with a single wave of your hand)

his trust in you begins to waver, and you'll have to take the reigns back into your hands to let him know that you aren't trying to deceive him

of course, you may have your apprehensions given that he's told you of his origins, but it's worth taking the risk instead of being dishonest with him and losing him forever

(scenario + more utc!)

"kaeya, my darling," you gently cooed to the figure standing in the doorway of your bedroom, "come here, let me see your face."

for once, kaeya offered no rebuttal and obediently sat by your side at the edge of the bed. that easy smile on your lips never faltered despite the obvious conflicting emotions that swirled in his eyes.

"are you okay?" you slipped your hands into his and thumbed the back of his knuckles, voice barely above a whisper.

his laugh was laced with ice and lacked its usual charming mirth. "you tell me, dollface?" though a smile weaved itself onto his lips, his eye was devoid of any joy. your easy smile began to falter.

defeated, you sighed and pressed your lips against his cheek as a peace offering. "i'm no mind reader, but i understand what's bothering you. so please, let me explain."

a simple nod of his head gave you all the permission you needed. "i am...not who you think i am," you paused, tongue searching for the right words. you rose your hand and unfurled your fingers, revealing a tiny, delicate green item that looked similar to a chess piece. it thrummed with life and pulsed gently, glowing a gentle, fern green. tiny, white flowers climbed up the sides of the object and wrapped around its base.

his eye wasn't meeting you, blown open in shock he could only stare at the rotating gnosis that floated in your hand.

"i'm the dendro archon."

somehow those four words managed to explain it all: the seemingly omnipotent power and ridiculous strength you carried all while maintaining an air of eloquence. it made so much more sense. the air around you dropped in temperature, icy particles bit at your skin and for once that periwinkle eye bathed in light that you loved so much and the tingles of his signature laugh felt void of life.

"when were you going to tell me? or, perhaps you were just going to keep it a secret had i not been onto you?" a wry grin didn't suit that beautiful face of his, you thought.

"kaeya-"

you were cut off by maniacal laughter, devoid of humor or even the slightest bit of emotion. you almost didn't recognize the man in front of you, whose laugh felt empty and hollow. his visible eye lacked its usual charming glow, and instead an icy cavern took its place.

"to think- that i had finally come across a miracle, only for you to be an archon? fate truly despises me, when will celestia be done taunting me?" with an almost defeated smile, kaeya looked up towards the ceiling with a shaky sigh. you felt your heart break.

he stood up from the bed and held his head in his hands, threading his fingers through his once neatly combed locks. his chest heaved with strangled breaths as he recalled the one thing that his father had engraved into his minds: the gods are not to be trusted.

you refused to let him slip away like this, not with how his hands shook or how his breath began to labor with each intake of air despite the fragile smile of disbelief on his face. before he could turn to leave, you rushed from the bed and flung your arms around his torso, squeezing with all the strength you had.

no matter how hard he pried and tried to get you off of him, you held on for dear life.

"i tried...so hard to protect them, kaeya. khaenri'ah is- was a beautiful nation." between sputters of sobs, you clutched the fabric of his shirt and prayed that he'd hear you out. tears rolled down the valleys of your face, but you made no move to swipe them away. "but the other gods...they wouldn't listen to me. dendro isn't a powerful element, i heal not destroy. and i was consequently looked down upon," you paused to move your hands from his waist to cup his face, stained with crystal clear tears, "i promise you, i tried with everything i had to protect them. but it wasn't enough, and i let them all perish because i was too weak-"

you tried to explain further only to be cut off by the bubble of sobs that escaped your throat, remembering the bloodied faces of the scared khaenri'ahan children you'd failed to protect and the looks of horror upon the faces of each and every citizen of khaenri'ah, watching as the gods descended upon them with murderous intent and slayed their children and elderly.

his heart pinched in his chest as you fell apart in his hands. kaeya moved his arms to hold you up against him once you began to sway and allowed you to press your tear covered face into the crook of his neck.

"h-hey now easy there, calm down." he whispered, though his own hands were shaking with fervor. you clung to him with all that you had and hiccupped into his skin as he rubbed his hand up and down your back to soothe your cries.

much to his surprise, little yellow flowers on a thin, green vine began to bloom from your body: taking root in your hair, encircling your neck and wrists, wrapping themselves like thin, wiry snakes around your entire body. the vine had come up to where his hand lay on your back and gently wrapped itself around his index finger.

"are you doing this?" he pried your face away from his neck and held up his index finger with a weak smile.

you felt your face heat up with embarrassment quickly wavingyour fingers so the flowers that surrounded your body faded into nothing but shimmering particles. "s-sorry...when my emotions get out of control that just happens sometimes."

the little yellow flower on his finger remained intact however, and his observant eye scanned it over in great detail. "the common rue flower..." he recalled staring into albedo's "great big book of flowers" as klee has called it, and reading the description of the symbolism behind the little yellow flower. his heart clenched and pounded in his stomach as you stared up at him with wide, watery eyes, still fearful of rejection.

the give of his heart was strong and elastic and it was more malleable than ever as he drew you into his arms and squeezed your body against his, gripping onto the little yellow rue in his fist.

"i'm sorry, darling. i shouldn't have gotten mad at you like that. not when you tried to help." he finalized his words with a kiss to your wet cheek, only for you to vigorously shake your head.

"no, no, i'm sorry for not being honest with you from the beginning." kaeya chuckled faintly and pulled you away from his body, holding your chin between his index and thumb fingers.

"i suppose now i can check "seducing an archon" off the bucket list, huh?" the playful lilt of his voice had returned, and so had the gentleness in his eye. you missed him, but you said so with a kiss to his lips rather than with the words caught in your throat.

after your talk and reconciliation, kaeya feels like a weight's been lifted off his chest

you couldn't help but agree: he doesn't have to keep his lingering resentment for the gods under wraps now, and you don't have to hide the fact that you're an archon anymore

though you can't help but wish you had gotten to kaeya first before the tsaritsa did

he laments that his vision was of ice: cold, immovable, stagnant, and akin to death

whereas your vision bloomed with life and held the capacity to heal and birth new possibilities

it makes you wish you had given him a vision before the tsaritsa had, but alas

once you learned of how he received it, part of you was relieved to know that he had the power of cryo to protect him because archons knows that a dendro vision would hardly suffice against pyro

he often drunkenly mused over the irony of your relationship: a khaenri'ahan descendant mixing with an archon of all people

his ancestors must have been rolling in their graves at the news

kaeya often thinks about his homeland, and you let him in on the secret that not a second goes by where you aren't haunted by the looks of horror of the khaenri'ahan citizens, to which he responded with a tight hug and a promise to stay by your side for as long as he could

kaeya additionally becomes more interested in your powers and how your emotions affect them

you have a tendency to produce flowers that hold the meaning of your emotions when intense

and boy does he get a kick out of it when a loving remark or sultry gaze ends up with you covered in wine red roses and carnations imbued with what looked like starlight

of course, he'll make up for his teasing with tons of cuddles and kisses!

"darling? have you seen my scarf?" kaeya popped his head into the doorway of your shared bedroom, only to find you sitting at his work desk, fluffy scarf in hand. you caught his eye once he announced his presence and gave him your best smile.

"right here," you cheekily lifted up the scarf, "just adding some details to it, i hope that's okay."

"oho? details like?" he sauntered over and kissed the top of your head, leaning one arm on the rim of the chair as he tried to get a peek at your handiwork. unluckily for him, with a wave of your hand a leafy vine gently wrapped itself around his visible eye, blocking his view.

"aw c'mon, sweetheart, i thought we agreed on not using your vision on me!" he teased, raising a hand to peel away the thick leaf from his eye, but you caught his wrist before he could proceed any further.

"nuh uh, no peeping yet, mister." kaeya could only cede with a short laugh and kissed the knuckle that held his wrist.

with a few swishes of a sewing needle, you finally declared his scarf, "finished!"

with a snap of your fingers, the leafy vine dissolved into particles and his eye finally came to rest upon his signature fur scarf snug in your hands.

miniature, royal blue roses had been imbued into the fabric of the fur and sprinkled all the way down to the end. the fur itself had been combed and washed and felt like new in his hands. "darling, you did all this for me?" he couldn't stop the grin from forming on his face as he leaned down to capture your lips in his as thanks.

"nope, clearly i was about to wrap it up all nice and pretty and take it as a gift to master diluc." you stuck your tongue out and looped the scarf around his neck, pulling him down closer to sneak a breathless kiss against his lips that had him gripping the arm of the chair for stability.

"ha ha, very funny, sweetheart." the bass of his voice purred against the shell of your ear once he pulled away, followed by a complimentary kaeya-esque grin full of wolfish charm.

"oh! and look!" gleefully, you shrugged off your coat, revealing a shirt tinted pale blue that hugged your body. the shoulders were lined with the same miniature blue roses and gleamed in the early morning light as if it were weaved from stars.

"i made a shirt for myself, so we can match! what do you think?" you beamed as you stood up, making sure to show off the little blue roses that decorated the fabric.

kaeya took your hand, whistled behind a sugary smile, and spun you around once to get a good look before drawing you flush against his chest and bringing his lips down to hover over your ear to whisper, "lovely, and it'd look even lovelier if it were on the floor," you felt your cheeks grow warm and plunged your face into the crook of his neck. kaeya huffed, an amused glint in his eye, gripped your chin to pull you away from his shoulder, and punctuated his words with a heated kiss against your lips that had your knees buckling. the sultry lilt of his voice and hot fan of his breath was enough to have you weak in his arms, ravaged by his kisses.

preoccupied with the taste of your lips on his, he hadn't noticed the slight poke of a rose thorn against his forearms, mistaking it for your nails. it wasn't until it sunk into his flesh hard enough to draw blood that he pulled away from your mouth and gawked at the sight before him.

glazed over with pure adoration, your eyes bore into his soul and reached within the depths of his heart to draw forth the pulsating affection from deep within. your breaths were heavy and heated, making up for the lack of air he had taken away from you. but, more importantly, tangles of deep, wine red roses and ruby carnations had burst forth from your body and nestled themselves into your locks. thick, green vines that held the roses and carnations wrapped around your torso and arms, and had snaked up to kaeya's body. the thorny talons of the rose had dug into his arm and produced a thin, stream of blood that ran down his skin towards his wrist.

"well," he started with a chuckle and plucked one of the roses from your hair, "this is most interesting. roses and carnations, hm? i wasn't aware you were so charmed with me, dove." he maintained eye contact all while that silver tongue of his got to work licking a single stripe up the side of his forearm where the thin stream of blood had appeared.

you tried to find the right words to speak, but to no avail. still too flustered, you opted to hastily brush the flowers out of your hair and from around your body dissolving into nothing but particles, only for new ones to immediately take their place, blooming out of thin air. upon seeing your frustrated pout and eyes that burned with adoration and hints of embarrassment, kaeya took it upon himself to draw you in by your waist and brush the rose he had plucked from your hair against the line of your jaw.

"you, my darling, are absolutely irresistible. adorable." between the two adjectives, he punctuated a kiss on either side of your cheek before settling on your nose. his heart melted when your nose scrunched up cutely upon impact.

you groaned out of embarrassment into the skin of his neck, opting to hide your flushed face. the flowers in your hair and around your body thrummed with life and burst forth in greater numbers when kaeya decided to run his baked palms up your sides and press one more loving kiss to your lips.

"i still wanna see that shirt come off though, we got time."

"kaeya!"

the fact that you're the dendro archon changes very little about your relationship with kaeya

he might have been hostile upon first finding out, but he knows that you were never truly at fault for what happened to his people

and, consequently, what happened to him

you're (y/n) to him, just (y/n) who happens to be a dendro vision holder

and you're the (y/n) that he loves with all his heart and would do anything for

despite the fact that he's already won your heart over, he'll still stop by your flower cart, purchase a blue rose, and stick it behind your ear followed by a flurry of kisses to your cheek and one big, tight, kaeya-esque hug

if you ask him why he keeps doing it, "to show that you're mine," will be his answer

and the way that he treasures the embroidered fur scarf you gave him is enough to show that he wants other people to know who he belongs to as well

when news that the dendro archon had gone into hiding reached the ears of the tsaritsa, least to say she was mildly irate

if you can count mild as sending chunks of ice hurling through the large windows of zapolyarny palace, that is

but fear not! for her most resourceful (and possibly strongest) harbinger was at her service the moment she summoned for him

scaramouche, upon being given the task of retrieving the dendro archon's gnosis, wasn't thrilled to say the least

dendro was arguably among the weaker of the elements, he'd have no fun taking such a valuable item from a being who controlled such a fickle substance

yet, he wasn't one to disobey her majesty's orders, and set off for sumeru to investigate

thankfully, he had your aid to assist him

you were a wandering informant scaramouche had met once in a brothel near the borders of mondstat and fontaine when you had managed to stop a scuffle between some fatui agents under his control and the brothel manager with your words and calm attitude

scaramouche came to respect your courage and you, his strength

you introduced yourself under the codename lilium with a warm smile

there isn't much he knows about you, other than you sell information and travel the lands. that, and you wielded a dendro vision.

in exchange for information, you only asked that a single stem of a flower be given in return (though scaramouche doesn't particularly care for this rule of yours and scoffed upon first hearing it)

scaramouche is reluctant to head to you for information given that he'd rather adorn the position of a lone wolf, but he'd get nowhere by being stubborn

you didn't flinch in the slightest when scaramouche, draped in a black hooded cloak and void of his signature hat, threw a battered weed, roots and all, onto your corner table and slammed his palm down onto the wood. the rest of the patrons in the sumeren tavern minded their business, much to his pleasure.

"tell me all you know about the whereabouts of the dendro archon." he muttered in a low voice.

you hummed, took a delicate sip from your glass of wolfhook juice, and scooped the piece of grass (which looked like he'd uprooted it whole with his fist) to inspect it.

"my, my, i thought you had better manners than this, scaramouche?"

"i thought you sold information, lilium, not prissy little guides to table manners." he spat.

"...fair point. though, you'll have to do better than this," you pause to limply hold up the half dead weed in your hand with a wry smile, "what you ask of me is grave information, therefore i require similar payment."

toying with scaramouche was always fun to you, but there was something quite odd about his behavior.

"how is it possible that you're coming off as more irate than usual?" the question itself was innocent in nature if not for the coy, upward tilt of your lips and the curious glint in your eyes.

"oh please," he scoffed and snatched the weed from the table, leaving behind crumbs of dried dirt, "give me twenty minutes."

twenty minutes came and went with you swinging your legs back and forth and taking casual sips from your glass. suddenly, the wooden door to the tavern burst open and in stomped scaramouche, arms full of bright red roses and baby pink carnations (with the roots still intact somehow). dirt scattered all over when he tossed the flowers onto your table with an agitated sneer to compliment the gesture.

"will these weeds suffice?"

"ah, scaramouche, you really must treat these flowers with more respect." you tutted, fingertips glowing in dendro gently grazing over the flowers. their petals became lush with vibrant colors and the roots withered away into dust until in your hands you cradled the most luscious and vivacious flowers scaramouche had ever laid eyes upon.

"well, you've paid your price," your leg moved to push out the wooden chair on the opposite end of your circular table, head gesturing for scaramouche to take a seat, "it's only fair that i hold up my end of the deal as well."

scaramouche huffed and muttered a "it's about time" under his breath before sitting down on the hard wooden chair. his hands traveled upwards to pull back the charcoal cloth that covered his stormy colored locks, electric violet eyes trained dangerously on your calm and easy smile.

"what specifically do you wish to ask, o high and mighty balladeer?" you cooed much like a parent to their child, drawing indecipherable shapes into the dents and grooves of the wooden table with your pointer finger.

"are you deaf? fine, i'll repeat it since you can't seem to let information process in that smooth brain of yours." scaramouche sneered, arms crossed firmly over his broad chest, "i need to know all you know of the dendro archon's whereabouts."

you clasped your hands in delight, lips perched into a gentle smile, "ah yes! well, you're quite lucky as i'm proficient in all things sumeru and everything related to the dendro archon!"

twisting in your seat, you rummaged through a tattered, beige, cloth satchel that hung from the back of your chair and from within emerged a map. once you spread it thin on the table, scaramouche recognized the geography as that of sumeru.

"being the god of wisdom," you start, fingers carefully running over the printed valleys and bowls of sand that littered the sumeran landscape, "they are one to first analyze and evaluate a situation before making a decisive decision. it's not likely that they've abandoned their people by going into hiding, rather they are in a safe environment that allows them to monitor the situation from afar knowing that their region is next in the gnosis hunt."

"wow, thanks, i could've told you that myself." scaramouche rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to make another crude remark only for the soft of your palm to connect with his lips, effectively shushing him for the time being.

"please let me finish, balladeer," if you weren't his best source of information, he would have had your head on a stick from the moment you placed your skin on his.

"the dendro archon is the most reclusive of the archons, and yet they are the most gentle among them," your pursed your lips and took a tentative sip from your violet glass of wolfhook juice, "they have many secret temples that are most likely to be in similar locations: far enough from the wandering eyes of people yet close enough so that they are able to efficiently watch over and protect their people."

"if anything, this god of theirs sounds like a coward." scaramouche snorted.

"hm, you might be right—about the dendro archon being a coward," a faint, almost nostalgic smile crossed your lips as your fingers traced the sweltering edges of your crystal glass, "but they are known to care deeply for their people. i wouldn't imagine they would ever let waste be laid to them."

"whatever, mark the temples on the map so i can get this over with." from his hands, scaramouche tossed a thin pencil onto the map and watched with pointed eyes as you hid a smile behind your hand. "mind telling me what's got you laughing like a hyena?" he sneered, leaning forwards with an intimidating glare on his face.

"it's not that easy to access their temples, after all they were built with the intention of staying hidden in plain sight," your fingers tapped the side of your glass in a steady rhythm, your eyes never straying from his gaze, "however, i know of a way to narrow down which temple they're hiding in, and how to access them. ah ah ah," you interrupted to hold up a finger in front of scaramouche's lips, parted as if he were about to come back with another demand, "there are certain requirements to being able to locate the temples."

scaramouche pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, choosing to exhale loudly through his nose in a bull-like manner rather than blurt out a line of expletives at how cryptic you were being. "what, are you implying that i'm weaker than you? you do know who i am, don't you? what are these so called requirements anyway?!"

"first of all," your hand brushed aside the silk-like fabric of your cloak to reveal your gleaming dendro vision, "you must be able to wield dendro, second of all, you must already have prior knowledge of the layout of sumeru and the habits of the dendro archon themself."

"what are you trying to get at, lilium?" scaramouche leaned forward, forearms dug into the wood of the table and violet, thundering irises narrowed into both curious and apprehensive slits. wisps of his stormy locks fell to the front of his face and you resisted with all your might the urge to tuck them back safely behind his ears.

"my, i thought you were more perceptive than that, scaramouche," you giggled and extended your hand, palm up in an offering of sorts, "i would like to make an offer with you, if you'd be so inclined as to humor me that is."

"i've humored you thus far, get on with it."

"in exchange for guidance to the temples, i would like to travel with you on your mission."

scaramouche felt the familiar tug of a frown on his lips. lone wolfing things has always been his go-to, and you were no more than a pit stop on this languid roadtrip of his to steal the dendro gnosis like candy from a baby. but, with your skills, intellect, and knowledge of the area, at the very least you wouldn't be dead weight.

the back of his knuckles knocked aside your outstretched hand as he rose from the table, chair screeching backwards with his movement. he turned his head to side eye you one more time just before the hood fell back over his midnight locks.

"we leave at first light." was all he left you with, before briskly walking to the tavern doors and leaving without another word.

he's not exactly pleased that you'll be joining him for this trip

it's not like he wanted to be here in the first place

scaramouche seeks to battle to the best of his abilities and yearns to see others at his feet where he stands in victory

and the god of wisdom hardly seems like a formidable foe compared to the god of war or the god of contracts

but the job must be done, even if it's up to him

and getting the job done means sacrificing some of his comfort, enter: you

from the moment you first embark off to brave sumeru's stormy sands and pudgy grounds, he finds himself regretting taking you up on your offer

sure, you might know what you're doing and the dendro vision certainly helps in the dendro archon's land, but gods do you get sidetracked easily

he could be haggling a scholar for information, only to be dragged away by his arm with your eager voice recounting details of a nearby festival or an interesting food cart or shop that had caught your eye

of course, he's frustrated and grumpy about the whole ordeal but finds that when you are all business, you're most effective

so just this one time, he'll let your side tracked mind indulge in whatever catches your fancy (and perhaps begrudgingly dip into the funds of the fatui should you spot anything that catches your eye)

his fingers aggressively tapped against the edge of the wooden desk, brows furrowed and mouth twisted into a poisonous sneer that sat comfortably on his face.

"i'll ask you again, old geezer, what do you know of the dendro archon's temples?!"

the old book keeper behind the counter merely countered his crude behavior with a gentle smile, eyes blissfully shut and mouth stretched into a calm expression.

his patience was wearing as thin as the fine granules of sand that littered the landscape outside, face an angry scarlet and knuckles a ghastly white. this was the third time he'd inquired about information, to no avail.

"that's enough, scaramouche."

a soft hand enveloped his ghost white knuckles, skimmed and stretched thin from maintaining his anger. your gentle voice interrupted his frustration as he observed the manner in which your arm snuck around his bicep, hand still warming his own.

"good sir, we'd like to purchase information regarding the beloved god of wisdom's hidden temples. if you'd be so kind as to show us the best materials regarding that topic, we'd be much obliged." unlike scaramouche's unagreeable and demanding behavior, your voice felt of the faint trickle of a gentle stream or clouded mist that rose from the dewy ground in the early mornings of spring.

the book keeper finally responded to your request, excusing himself before disappearing into the back.

"get off of me-!" scaramouche sneered and shoved your arms away from his body just as the book keeper disappeared from sight.

you merely giggled and fixed his misaligned hat. "balladeer, you must have kindness and formality when conversing with the residents of sumeru. they value proper behavior just as they do intelligence."

"then you do all the talking, i don't have time for such mediocrities nor do i care what the sumerans value." he huffed and folded his arms across his chest defensively like an iron shield or a thick wall, blocking off the core of his heart and innards from your prying gaze.

the book keeper returned with some scrolls and politely discussed the price with you. with numbers in the millions, you needed to say nothing when scaramouche placed a large satchel of mora on the desk and scooped up the scrolls into his satchel.

as you exited the book shop, your ears caught wind of faint music and the distant sounds of cheering and laughing that overcame the chatter and clutter of noise from the sumeran street market. the sweet, sugary sounds of joy and celebration lay just over the horizon of the many houses and buildings that lined the sand covered street.

"scaramouche, come this way! i think there's a festival happening!" you grinned as your hand found his and pulled him towards the noise.

scaramouche halted at your words and sneered, "and what? we have a job to do, have you forgotten?"

"surely you can spare a minute, can't you? i promise it'll be quick, just a glance!" scaramouche couldn't help but be entranced by the way your eyes silently pleaded with him, going as far as to offer up the core of their sparkling bits that had him reluctantly nodding, even against his will.

scaramouche was not one to partake in silly little festivals, and yet here he was, watching as you ran around eagerly from stall to stall. the festival had been set up in a village square of sorts: colorful banners draped from all corners and settled at the middle, stalls line the circular edges of the square, and in the middle danced people of all ages, from the tiniest of children to the eldest of couples. music hummed happily from a nearby groups of musicians who eagerly eyed anyone that dropped a tip in their cup.

"isn't this wonderful?" you beamed and looked around in awe, eyeing each stall with hungry eyes.

"very, now can we leave?" he wanted to groan as you ran off towards a jewelry stall.

"lilium." he hissed, urgency laced in his voice as you held up a shining necklace with a verdant pendant similar in color to the dendro vision on your hip. the chain glimmered in the high noon sunlight, the silver bounding off of the metal and reflecting painted constellations over the span of your face.

"yes, yes, just a second. can't i take a look at jewelry in peace?" you giggled and ran your thumb over the neat, diamond shaped cut of the green gem, "this is absolutely stunning, how much?"

"five million mora." the burly man behind the stall answered, puffing airy smoke from the pipe nestled snugly at the corner of his lips.

before you could open your mouth to gawk at the price, scaramouche decided to answer for you, "whatever, we'll take it." he scowled and tossed a hefty bag of mora at the stall keep, who eagerly looked inside with hungry eyes before nodding at the pair of you.

"thank you for the gift, scaramouche!" your hands fiddled with the necklace in an eager attempt to put it on as you faded further away from the stall. your fingers struggled to clip the clasp in place, either going too far or clasping too soon.

"tch, come here." you felt yourself be yanked by the back of your collar and the necklace, ripped from your hands, as scaramouche's deft fingers worked to secure the clasp in place. his cold fingers sent shivers down the line of your spine as the pendant jostled around your chest, then finally sat still against your hammering heart as his body moved away from yours.

"happy? let's go now."

his shoulder brushed past yours and his hand moved to tip his hat down so you wouldn't bear witness to the glowing blush that adorned his cheeks.

your travels together are unprecedented in his mind but as time goes on, he begins to feel less and less hostile to the idea

you're a radiant light to his thunderous storm: the eye of his hurricane perhaps

you fill in the gaps where he is not complete: from your gentle nature to your vast and expansive intelligence, he's been struck in awe

scaramouche now realizes that he could have never navigated sumeru without your help (but it's not like he'd ever admit it)

hours are spent mulling over the locations of the dendro archon's temples only for him to come up short

which is where you'd come in and use that big brain of yours to fill in the gaps with all you knew of the dendro archon

he's not sure when the binds around his heart began to come undone, perhaps it was when he bought that beautiful necklace for you

ever since then, he's found himself at a loss

the simplest of your smiles or the lightest of your touches would make his ears burn a fierce ruby red

he's known you for so long as simply "lilium", who appears to know all and always has the right information for him

but now he begrudgingly begins to wonder what lies under your codename; just who are you?

and why are you making him feel this way?

flames quietly crackled above the drying air; dancing embers flung from the base and gently pranced across the sandy, dirt ground before fading into nothing. the makeshift camp he'd set up right outside the city would suffice for now until daylight broke over the horizon.

scaramouche leaned his back against the base of the large tree trunk, hat cast aside and arms folded while his electric irises traced the lands for any sign of danger. though, if he counted the way your eyes skimmed over the faded, scholarly journals you'd purchased in a small town earlier that day, the faint flicker of rouge and persimmon flames in the core of your eyes, and the soft shadows that danced over your face, he'd consider himself in danger.

"lilium," he called to you, voice uncharacteristically calm and devoid of it's usual haughty nature and bitter tone, "what is that?"

your ruddy eyes rose from the words of the book and a gentle smile crossed your face, "would you like to see?"

the unfamiliar sensation of butterflies instead of the usual crawls of insects and worms in his stomach had him wanting to throw up today's lunch as you rose from your seat on the ground and scooted beside him, leaning your back against the harsh bark of the tree.

"it's an old sumeran fables book. i know it's not exactly contributive to our mission but..." your thumb rubbed the faded cover affectionately as a small smile graced your lips.

"it's fine, buy whatever you want."

scaramouche's hands still folded themselves over his chest, head turned to the side.

"speaking of buying things," you reached into your nearby satchel and rummaged around the contents before emerging with a pair of crystal-like earrings in hand, "i bought this for you!"

the pair of earrings you held were golden and shaped like a sharp, thin diamond. a striking, dark violet crystal, similar in color to that of a stormy sky or muted lightning, was encased with gold and dangled from a thin clasp.

instead of handing both pairs to him, your hands unclasped one and punctured it through your ear. "one side is for me, and the other is for you!" the earring shook with your movements, glimmering in the fleeting and flickering embers of the fireplace.

scaramouche stared at the earring in his hand. it felt hefty and of good quality, and shone with ludicrous beauty. and yet despite this, "ridiculous, i would never wear this." he sneered and tossed the matching jewel back at you.

if he had a heart, he was sure it had long since turned to ice. but upon the slight crestfallen look that melted the glimmering smile on your face, he felt the icy caverns in his heart begin to stir and jostle with movement and life. "i see, but it'll be here if you change your mind."

"sorry" was not a word in his vocabulary, so instead he said nothing nor inched further away from your body when you succumbed to the warm embrace of sleep and rested your head against the closest thing to you: his shoulder. whereas most would have lost their heads should they ever lay a finger on the balladeer, you were an odd exception.

by the time you wake up the next morning, you're lying on the floor, a blanket over your shoulders, with no recollection of how you fell asleep. scaramouche is hoisting his travel bag over his shoulders, and the bits of sun that peeped out from over the horizon gently illuminated the shining gem that hung from his ear.

"let's move."

after weeks of trying to root out the dendro archon's hiding place, you finally manage to narrow it down to a temple surrounded by thick, lush, exotic plants and a glimmering waterfall

"it's surrounded by dense rainforest yet from its most highest point can easily observe sumeru's main city." had been your reasoning

scaramouche recalls his thoughts of the trip going smoothly and easily: like stealing candy from an archon, or a gnosis from a baby...?

but he's become very aware that without your help, he'd be stuck going in circles

you realize that scaramouche has grown over the course of this trip: he's kinder to strangers (in his own...unique way) and seems to be less quick to lose him temper

you've observed with careful eyes, the manner in which he interacts with the world around him and have concluded that there lies a kind and sweet individual underneath his layer of scum and dirt

and the dangle of the matching earring on his ear was enough to make your heart swell with happiness

scaramouche's heart was swelling for another reason

never before has he been in the presence of someone so pure of heart and willing to trust him: to see beyond his physical boundaries and peep into the soul he so defensively guards

and it's because of your actions and words and kindness that he finds himself at a loss for labelling this odd emotion that leaves him awake at night, taking diligent watch over camp to protect your peaceful sleep, or the frequent brushes of his fingers against the cool touch of the gem from his ear

it didn't help his battering heart that you looked absolutely ethereal while using your powers

dendro was an element he considered the weakest until you formed thick vines and towering trees that crushes enemies faster than he could draw out his catalyst and begin attacking

your hands skimmed over the vast expanse of his skin and healed his gashes with the gentle light of dendro, and never before had he come that close to falling asleep in such a vulnerable position

you truly were the most honest being he's ever encountered

but the truth is often a more daunting and treacherous path that one can ever expect

a symbol mocked scaramouche as a lock to the temple. just as he was about to burst into a vast array of colorful expletives, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and walked past towards the seal. flowing, green energy pool from your fingers and made contact with the seal, which reacted to your powers. an internal mechanism roared to life and soon the doors had opened wide. scaramouche look on in disbelief as you sauntered inwards with a teasing smile on your face.

the inside of the temple is vast and large. a wide, white marble floor covers the majority of the insides, and from the four corners emerged mini waterfalls. a dam lined the edges of the marble floors, where at the end lay a humble throne constructed of rock and covered in thick vines that held little flowers of varying pale colors. marble pillars loomed high above where vines creeped down and engulfed them in a spiral. light poured in from the crystal glass panes above, illuminating the marble floors in a gentle, pale yellow.

his shoes clicked against the clean marble, eyes wide and wandering in awe. but even among his fascination, there still lay frustration. you followed behind him, unusually quiet and devoid of your usual smile.

"the dendro archon isn't here." he scowled and sulkily walked up to the throne, kicking it with the toe of his boot. "all this work, and for what, a disappointment?!" he kicked the seat again, harder this time.

"SHOW YOURSELF YOU GOD DAMN COWARD!" his voice bounced off the empty walls of the temple, fists balled and knuckles white at his side. after all this time and effort, to not find the dendro archon was an absolute bash to his ego and will.

"let's go, lilium." he grunts and turns around to face you.

you who had continued to smile at him with eyes that seemed to know more than he did. eyes that carried within them ancient words lost to time and stars that could no longer been seen across the sky of teyvat.

"scaramouche..." your steps are quiet, tentative, like a cornered animal that has long evaded capture from its stalky predator.

as you walked forwards, your hands unbuttoned the clasp of your beige cloak and revealed to him the lines of dendro that ran up your neck and arms. your fingers contorted into an odd position, almost as if in prayer, as dendro energy began to swirl around you and pour itself back into your chest. thick branches sprouted from your temples and curved backwards to form horns decorated with little multicolored flowers. light illuminated from all directions and poured itself back into your body, while all scaramouche could do was stand there and watch, knees bent and hand ready to draw his weapon. his eyes burned as the air around you settled and a vibrant green ring locked itself onto your irises.

"i am (y/n), seventh archon of teyvat," click, click, with each step you took towards him, scaramouche stepped back, "god of wisdom, defender of sumeru," click, click, scaramouche could hardly believe his eyes, even though the evidence was clear as day in front of him: living, breathing, speaking to him,

"the dendro archon."

confusion turned into blind rage as scaramouche threw his satchel aside and lunged at you, catalyst floating hurriedly behind him. you allowed him to tackle you to the floor, and made no complaint when his large hand pinned your wrists over your head. his hat flew wildly to the side, lost to the air in the sudden scuffle.

"you lied to me." he seethed, voice barely above a whisper and tinted with what you considered unbridled rage as he towered over your. the earring that matched yours dangled ferociously and you feared that it may come flying off.

"i had to." you replied, still smiling with content in your eyes.

"you've made a fool out of yourself by lying to me." like the eerie rumble of thunder before the strike of lightning, his voice rumbled low and heavy and dripped with contempt.

his heart fought against the mere thought of what he'd have to do now: strip you of your gnosis and godly powers. but how could he when all he yearned to do was hear you laugh again or see your pretty smile in a situation where he didn't have your wrists pinned to the floor and wasn't agonizingly angry with you.

"defeat me in a fair challenge, and my gnosis is yours. you have my word, scaramouche." you offer interrupted any more of his raging thoughts.

"you?" scaramouche scoffed and masked his emotions with a decisively wicked laugh that sounded more akin to a huff, "you don't stand a chance against me." the grip on your wrists tightened and pressed your skin into the marble floor.

"then you should have no objections." you offered him one last smile before your body dissolved into tiny, multicolored wildflowers and sparks of green dendro energy. scaramouche fell forwards, the balance he'd kept while holding your body and wrists down now lost.

"what-"

"you've really underestimated me, scaramouche." your voice echoed from the other side of the temple, vines forming around your arms.

despite the screams in his heart to set his catalyst down and run far, far away from all of this, he knew of his obligations, and lunged forward with a surge of electro in his veins.

what he hadn't expected was to be pummeled upwards by a thick tree trunk that protruded from the ground. the impact wasn't hard enough to draw blood but it was enough to distract him while you planned your next move, summoning your weapon and drawing it at the ready.

scaramouche leapt down from the platform and formed a sword of electricity with his hands. he rushed forward and slammed the blade with all his might against your weapon, only to be pushed back with both your strength and the help of the flexible tree branches and vines that protruded from your back.

dendro was supposed to be weak and flimsy like those stupid flowers you always ask him to bring you in exchange for information, so why was it that his breath evaded him with every gulp of air he swallowed while trying to evade your thorny attacks? your long range attacks seemed to be more powerful, but even as he closed the distance, the look in your eyes was unbearable for him to gaze into.

"scaramouche..." you mumbled, brows furrowed and voice tinted with hint of remorse as your weapon pressed against his electro sword, fighting against his strength with seemingly no effort at all. one of your hands moved to tuck strands of his stormy hair back into place behind his ear, and his corded temper snapped in two.

you sensed the buildup of his energy right before it released, and scaramouche swore he saw the faintest of smiles cross your lips before you were knocked back by an enormous surge of electro from his hands that burst outwards in tandem with the blast of electro. purple jets of energy poured out from his outstretched hands, still tingling with adrenaline. your body flew across the temple like a ragdoll and hit one of the many marble pillars, sending you crumbling to the floor in a coughing heap.

"it's over." scaramouche's strides over to your weakened body were cold, devoid of life in each click of his heel against the marble floor until his body loomed high over yours, sword brimming with electricity pointed dead at the base of your throat.

he expected you to cower in fear, beg for your life until you were within an inch of death. instead, you merely smiled and closed your eyes.

"go on, finish the job. you've won fair and square." your hands overlapped his sheet white knuckles, cold from gripping onto the handle with all his strength, and began to push the sword down towards your throat.

panic surged through his veins once your intentions became clear. "just what are you trying to get at?! do you want to die?!" with your weakened body, strength didn't come to your hands when scaramouche yanked the sword away from your grip. the tip of the blade rested snugly over your hammering heart and flickered every so often with a lick of violet electricity that sent tingles throughout your body.

scaramouche had slain hundreds—thousands maybe, but the hands that have snuffed the life out of so many now gripped his sword not with fury but with hesitance. fear was void in your eyes; all he saw was a being who was content, calm, and seemed to embrace death with welcome arms.

"come on, scara. it's alright, i promise." you cooed, arms outstretched like a macabre invitation.

"scara" was new, you'd never called him that before and it made his heart hurt in a way he never thought possible, like running a paper cut under frigid water or biting the inside of your cheek too hard: stinging and small yet unbearable.

you hadn't removed the earring he shared with you, it still clasped itself onto the soft, fleshy part of your earlobe and twinkled up at him in the dwindling sunlight. the slight jostle of his head brought to attention the matching jewel that swayed by his jugular, all the familiar yet foreign emotions he'd felt over the past few weeks rushed him like a bull who saw crimson. the soft underbelly of this thoughts had finally given way and he knew now that his hands could kill a thousand more, but never lay a hand on you.

the sword dissipated into thin particles of mauve electric light just as he crumpled to his knees in front of your body.

"i can't." he meekly whispered, fingers grasping at his knees for some semblance of stability.

he considered himself above others, but you alone had somehow managed to bring him to his knees and set aside his weapon, even if his mission would be failed and he'd face the wrath of the tsaritsa.

what sounded like a pleased hum purred from the top of your throat before you rose from the ground and extended a hand towards him. scaramouche's head whipped up, clearly stunned at your ability to move after baring what looked like such a painful impact.

"congratulations, scaramouche, you've passed!" you beamed as he slipped his hand into yours and stood back up, a quizzical look on his face.

"...passed? what the hell are you talking about?!" he scowled and attempted to sever the connection you'd made between his hand and yours, only for your grip to tighten and your other hand to find purchase on the line of his slackened jaw, moving upwards to his cheek.

"i mean that you've passed the test to receive my gnosis, silly."

you bit back the smile from your face as you watched scaramouche seemingly run through all sorts of confuzzled expressions before settling with an irritated sneer and flared eyes that guarded him like a cornered animal.

"test?! are you kidding me- what in the hell kind of test was that?!" he growled and used his free hand to bunch up the fabric of your collar in his white knuckled fist.

a sugary laugh crept up past your lips as the hand that held his let go and moved to overlap his fist.

"well? get talking!" he ushered, slackening his fingers on the collar of your attire.

"yes, yes, o high and mighty balladeer." like a blue bird's chirp you cooed to him and straightened out the fabric of your shirt with calm movements.

he opened his mouth to make a retort at your choice of title for him when you beat him to the punch and words that you had since swallowed began to slip from your tongue.

"my ties to celestia have long since been severed," you paused to unfurl your hand and reveal the floating gnosis covered in little white flowers and tiny vines, "the gnosis is only an empty vessel—a meaningless connection to a place i no longer associate with."

"if it's so meaningless, you could've just coughed it up and avoided this whole mess. idiot." the last word he muttered under his breath, yet it rang in your ears crystal clear like the crisp smell of firewood.

"i'm aware," you giggle and step closer to him, "but there was a purpose for our adventure."

scaramouche studied the rotating chess piece in your palm, pristine and light in color—if he listened carefully he'd hear the soft chirps of birds and the twinkle of morning dew after a night's shower of rain; the atmosphere began to placate the burning irritation in his chest.

"my disciples caught wind that you'd be the one sent for my gnosis, and i had a feeling that you'd come seek my guidance even if it was to your chagrin." there was no helping to conceal the teasing lilt to your songbird voice, which of course fanned the flames of his sneer and had him crossing his arms.

"i was completely alright with giving up my gnosis, however, i wanted to make sure that it would fall into the right hands which is why i tagged along: to see and study your behavior."

you were far too close for comfort, and there was only so much space between scaramouche and the marble pillar as you backed him up into it and reached for his hands. his mind screamed at him to end it now and run far away from whatever hellish game you'd created, but his heart allowed you to pick up his calloused hands within yours and run your thumbs over the back of his knuckles.

"and after careful examination, i've deemed you and all you stand for worthy of my gnosis, scaramouche."

your hands released his as you dared to brave his stormy exterior and relish in the softness of his face as you cupped his jaw between both of your hands. his arms stood rigid by his side, unsure of which way to move or how to hold you.

"how..." he dryly swallowed before continuing, "why...me?"

"well, that's an easy question to answer. it's because you're a kind soul at heart. i know that no harm will come to my people, or anyone else if my gnosis is left in your hands."

from the look in his eyes, deep within the caverns of his stormy irises and inky pupils, you sensed a pool of doubt and a coating of mistrust. the jingle of the ornaments on his ornate hat twinkled gently as he turned his face to the side, ears burning and mouth etched into a warbled grimace.

"look at me, scaramouche," you tilt his head back towards you, a mirage of stardust and midnight blue flames peering back at you hidden behind the thin layer of his stinging eyes, "you could have killed me, but you spared my life. there is good in you, and there always will be."

"you're wrong, lili- (y/n)! i could kill you where you stand right this minute!" he barked, shying away from your touch in a brutish manner as he walked a short distance away from you, still close enough to touch but far away enough so his face could be hidden behind the thick brim of his hat.

"i'm not wrong, you forget my title of the god of wisom." you chortled, no louder than a gentle rush of wind.

with gentle, lilypad steps, you made your way to his side and raised his head once more with your hands so you started directly into his eyes. the firey, red blush on his face ran to the expanse of his nose and cheeks and tailed off near the tips of his ears; he looked akin to a dewy strawberry or ripe cherry.

the glowing gnosis appeared once more as you unfurled your hand, the other moving to grab scaramouche's palm and hold it wide open. the gnosis thrummed with life for a brief moment before falling silent as your fingers let go of the small chess piece and let it fall onto the calloused, fleshy skin of scaramouche's palm. your fingers gently covered his own and curled them inwards so the gnosis was completely concealed by his skin.

"go," you whispered, moving your hand back upwards to his cheek to caress the soft skin and brush aside the wild wisps of his inky, midnight hair, "go home to your tsaritsa. tell her you've succeeded, but not of how you obtained the gnosis."

you've managed to startle scaramouche enough today to the point where he'd welcome unconsciousness with open arms. but the manner in which you hold his face and press a gentle kiss to his forehead sends a flurry of emotions barreling up from his heart towards his brain. frozen in place, he could only watch as you stepped back and offered him one more smile before turning around and heading to pick up your discarded cloak in the middle of the temple. your figure grew smaller and smaller the more he stood, mouth agape and palms sweaty. the fist that contained your gnosis felt so warm and soft, like the gentle pitter of rain in spring or the brush of a lukewarm petal on a hot summer's day—so much like you. his mind no longer screamed at him to shove those damning thoughts of you into a corner.

with every hurried step he took, the binds around his heart became undone and left nothing but a shriveled up empty core that pounded and swelled with life. his hand grabbed around your elbow just as you scooped up your cloak from the middle of the temple, his eyes blown and grip tighter than ever.

"scaramouche?" you innocently tilted your head to the side, curiosity enveloping your irises that now lacked the vibrant green dendro ring.

ah, your curiosity, your kindness, your gentle nature, your humor, he adored everything about you, and he could hide it no longer.

with a yank of his hand forwards, his lips eagerly met yours in an uncharacteristically jumbled and awkward yet endearing kiss. he swallowed your surprised squeak and melded his lips properly against your own, arm coming around to hold your body flush against his. scaramouche's fist let go of your gnosis and let it tumble to the ground, using his free hands to dig into the small of your back and trap you in his broad arms.

"who said..." he began once parting from your breathless lips, gulping for air himself, "that you could leave my side?"

scaramouche's eyes darted from your own and back down towards your lips, cheeks ruddy and warm and mouth parted to breathe in the sweet air you managed to steal from him. you followed his gaze and ran your fingers against the dangling jewel from his ear that matched yours.

"i believe..." you started with a giggle, using your thumb to run against his bottom lip, "that the tsaritsa will be awfully upset to know that you've discarded the gnosis like that."

scaramouche scoffed and grabbed your chin between his forefinger and thumb and muttered a, "i don't care," before taking your lips as his once again.

it's a pretty, forward way of confessing, but scaramouche becomes your lover from that day onwards!

he garbles out an offer to come stay with him, which you accept!

the trip back to snezhnaya was filled with longing looks and breathless kisses that left him weak in the knees

of course, he makes sure that affectionate gestures are in private settings because celestia forbid that a fatui agent walk in on scaramouche, red in the face, being pampered with kisses and affectionate words by his archon significant other

when he presents the dendro archon's gnosis to the tsaritsa, she's quick to catch on that his means of acquisition were...unorthodox

but makes no comment of it, much to his relief

as soon as his business is done in snezhnaya, he makes haste to his (luxurious) residence in inazuma which is where he chooses to lay a base with you

because he's a harbinger, he often must leave at unpredictable times in a hurried manner

before, such a mobile lifestyle was fine because it was just his own back that he had to worry about and no one else's

however, you have now entered the picture

he'll make contradictory responses about leaving you alone for prolonged periods of time

"you'll burn the damn place down while i'm gone."

"you say that while you're hugging and kissing me goodbye, scaramouche."

"...shut up."

by associating with him in general, you've inherently become a target for outside parties that have a bone to pick with the fatui (which are there are, unsurprisingly, a lot of)

you might have to remind him that you're a literal archon and can defend yourself perfectly fine (and even then it'd be difficult for him to part from you)

aside from the chaos that is his life as a harbinger, when all is quiet and there's no missions on his belt, he'll be right by your side

his love is shown largely through words of affirmation, except they come off as the exact opposite with good intentions hidden beneath them

you help him spar in the large backyard, and he's surprised to learn that you can easily take him down

part of his time with you has led him to discover a lot more about you, like the fact that intense emotions of yours manifest into flowers that bloom along your body

one too many times has he whispered suggestive words in your ear with a teasing, sultry lilt, or let his hand wader across the span of your body

only to be met with wine red roses that bloomed from the depths of your skin and wrapped around his hands

scaramouche will never admit the way your kind words and gentle touch send his heart racing

from the simple tap of his shoulder or the warmest of embraces lined with sugar filled kisses: he loves your touch

he's not used to authenticity; kind, genuine, pure of heart compliments and words, which is why he hates that you manage to fluster him so easily with "that shirt makes you look even more handsome" or a "be well and stay safe, darling"

scaramouche is used to bandaging his wounds—both physical and (eugh) emotional—in complete solitude

but you're here now, and he begins to realize that he finally has someone to rely on—someone who cares about him to the most authentic extent

rain hammered down against his body as he approached the steep climb towards the large, luxurious house that sat atop a secluded hill in araumi.

blood, his own or someone else's, smeared itself across his cheek and shielded itself from the rain by the large rim of his hat. his bloodied nose ached with every intake of rain laden air; the only smell scaramouche could possibly register at this point was the irony peak of blood. his legs burned and ached with every step forwards; tingling vibrations shot themselves up from his ankles to the small of his back. the open gash on his torso felt like burning ice and stung with every raindrop that splattered onto his bloodied shirt. the house loomed onwards and high above, led up to by a trail of pearly white stairs crafted of marble; he was seriously beginning to regret the fancy structure of his house.

his breath stuttered against his lips upon reaching the first step, body sagging onto the railing when he heard a voice from above.

"scaramouche?!"

he looked upwards to see your figure, void of any umbrellas, coverings, or shoes and only in your night clothes as you stood near the first landing of the steps. with the steady candlelight from the house behind: you looked like an angel.

how he had managed to make it under the warm roof of his house, he wasn't quite sure. scaramouche only remembers your frantic touch and his arm slung around your shoulder as you walked step by step up to the porch. before he knew it, scaramouche found himself soiling a fresh, snow white futon with the blood and dirt that covered his body while you made haste to pull off his soaked shoes and gather appropriate materials to help clean him up. hat already tossed to the side, you peeled layer after layer of soaked clothing off until he lay bare in nothing but his boxers, large gash on display for you to gawk at.

"scara..." you mumbled and ran your fingertips over the reddened edges of his wound.

he hissed at the sudden contact and gulped for air through his chapped lips. you smiled apologetically and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "you'll be alright, just hold still."

energy the color of a dewy leaf or thick, pale moss, thrummed from your fingertips as you hovered over his wounds. the dendro energy from your skin began to morph his skin and shut the gash in slow, gentle motions, leaving behind nothing but a thin scar across the middle. your hands moved across the span of his body, taking great care not to miss any patch of skin, no matter how small the wound. finally at ease, scaramouche trained his eyes on you with bated breath as you lovingly tended to his wounds with a strong ring of green around your irises. your hands finally glided over to his face, where blood smeared his cheek and the thin trail of blood from his nose greeted you with a nasty leer.

"not mine, promise." he mumbled when your thumb rubbed over the patch of dried blood on his cheek. his words didn't seem to ease the worried look on your face.

a few more motions of your hands and his nose was good as new. your hands reached for the basin of warm water and gentle washing cloth as scaramouche sat up, a haggard breath escaping his lips.

"i may have healed your wounds, but you need rest. they will reopen if you exert yourself." you warn, warm hand cupping his cheek while the other wiped the trail of blood from his nose.

"don't give me that shit, i'm completely fine." he huffed, but allowed you to continue wiping his skin down with warm water.

"please, scaramouche," to his surprise, tears began to pool in your eyes and cascade down your cheeks in silent waterfalls, "you are so important to me, take better care of yourself, please."

though his body stung and you'd just warned him about moving, scaramouche couldn't help but pull you into his lap and lock his arms tight around your body.

"i'm not going anywhere. it'll take an army and it's general...and a dragon to kill me." he mumbled into your scalp, feeling the weight on his chest lessen with a snort in response to his sarcastic response.

"promise?" you moved your face from his neck to look him in the eye, remembering just how bloodied he'd been just moments earlier.

scaramouche moved his hand to grab your pinkie in his and shake it. "throw me in the ice or whatever if i do."

you giggle and raise his hand to your lips, eyes shut in pure bliss and a gentle smile etched on your lips. in that moment, scaramouche wished with all his might that his time with you would be stretched out into an eternity.

you had a weird start to your relationship: never did scaramouche ever fathom that he'd find someone to put up with his disagreeable personality

nor that he'd fall in love with the prime target of his mission

but you managed to wrangle him up in your vines of love and swaddle him in a warmth that was unfamiliar yet welcomed

he's not one to revere the gods as ethereal beings; to him they're no more than placeholders, or figureheads

however, you are the only archon that has his complete and utter devotion

and it's not because of your archon status that he is devoted wholly to you, but your kindness and love that brings him to his knees

despite his unpleasant behavior, there isn't a single thing he wouldn't do for you, even if he'd grumble and complain about it all the while

the earring that dangles from his ear and matches your own reminds him that he has someone to come home to, and someone to love

the day khaenri'ah fell is all a blur in dainsleif's mind

he lost everything:

his home, his people, his status, his life

all thanks to the heartless gods who cared not for the lives of puny mortals

despite the foggy remnants of his memory, he does remember something in particular that has stuck with him for centuries onwards:

how someone managed to bring him to safety, away from all the carnage and rot of khaenri'ah's destruction

by then, the curse of immortality had been laid, but whoever it was who saved him had managed to sneak through the wreckage and haul his unconscious body out of the pits of khaenri'ah into a grassy plain of wildflowers

though in and out of consciousness, he remembered the clean ring of vibrant green around their irises, the sweet smell of fresh flowers, their soft touch as they mended his wounds, and their honey-like voice that tried as much as possible to keep him conscious

the last thing he remembers before slipping into oblivion was the calmness and ease of his pain and the hum of energy in his ears

he awoke that night in a small clearing next to a crackling campfire, arm in a sling and a blanket over his body

since then, he's embarked to seek answers and pursue goals that were far out of anyone's reach

he wandered aimlessly as days trickled into weeks, then months, years, decades, centuries

until he finally meets you in sumeru

you're an advisor for the study of medicinal herbs at sumeru's finest academic institution, where dainsleif heads one day to procure both information and herbs

upon talking to him for just a bit, you discover that he is in search of a specific type of plant and offer your physical assistance to help him find it

throughout your little adventure, dainsleif finds that you're excellent to work with and before he can even ask if you'd like to come with him when he leaves sumeru, you offer up to join him on his travels first

he finds great solace and versatility in you: your dendro vision allows for easier access to places where nature invades, and your amicable and kind personality makes for great bargaining skills

over time as you travel more and more places together, dainsleif begins to feel an unfamiliar weight in his chest that doesn't exactly feel unwelcome

warm, calm, serene, peaceful is how he feels when you're around

he can't help but be enamored by everything about you: your eyes, lips, curve of your nose and rise of your cheeks. your kindness, your gentle nature, your perceptive insight and intelligence. all of it.

the romantic tension between you two was unbearable in the best way

quiet flames flickered from the small campsite and cast gentle shadows across the span of his face. he observed with a quiet smile, the way in which your fingers skimmed through line after line of some ancient books you had procured today, spines broken and covers worn with age and love. a shiver rocked your body as you scooted closer to him for warmth, your hips coming in contact merely once and it was enough to send tingles throughout his body.

"cold?" he asked.

you placed the book down and nodded, coming closer to his side if possible. with a single click of the clasp, the charcoal cloak that draped over his shoulders fell from his body as he placed it over yours.

"well that's not fair," you pout, fanning out the fabric so that instead of just you, the cloak covered both your bodies, "we both need to be covered."

there was no hiding the furious blush on his face as you inch even closer to him if it was possible to do so, your head coming to rest on his broad shoulder.

"are you okay, dain? your heart is beating so fast..." voice tinted with faded whispers, your fingers run over the thick fabric that protects his bare skin.

"yes, i'm...fine. do not concern yourself with my wellbeing, you need to warm up." dainsleif murmured gently and tugged the fabric up closer to your shoulders.

he wasn't sure when you'd wriggled your way past his thick irony boundaries or when he'd become so comfortable with your touch, but he didn't mind if you used his shoulder like a pillow and drooled on him, or spurred him onwards into hole in the wall buildings to discover ancient products. and his most favorite: when you'd craft flowers from your fingers and thread them through his coat or hair.

"i can't just not care about you, dain. that's silly." you giggle and brushed aside wisps of his ashen locks from his piercing azure gems. he resisted the urge to lean down and press a kiss to your forehead once your arms wrapped around his torso, so snug and comfortable.

"ah...then i apologize."

"dain?" you look up at him with sparkling eyes, threaded by pale, persimmon flames from the campfire that completely entrance him.

"yes, (y/n)?"

much to his surprise, your hands slink up to hold his face so he stared directly at you.

"can i show you how much i care about you?" there was a new gentleness to your voice that he'd never heard before, and the confusion that painted his face at your words dissipated once he nodded and felt his head tilt to the side and your soft, downy lips press against his cheek.

for far too long, he'd imagined the feeling of your lips on his skin in manners that had him burning up and shaking such thoughts out of his head. but now, having got a taste, his desire seemed to be insatiable. your lips parted from the soft of his cheek far too soon for his liking, your eyes shy and mouth curved into a timid smile.

"i'm sorry if i overstepped any- mmph?!"

before you could speak any apologies, you find that dainsleif's lips had connected and molded to fit perfectly against yours. his arms snuck around your waist to stabilize you against his throbbing heart. his mind was completely encased by all that you were: your body, mind, and soul filtered through your connected lips and became one with his in the most vibrant and indescribable ways.

dainsleif reluctantly parted from your lips with a quiet gasp and rose a hand to cup your burning cheeks.

"i care deeply about you as well, if it was not evident."

despite the teasing nature of his remark, his eyes shied away from your intense gaze, the one that sent butterflies up from the confines of his stomach.

"hehe, at least now," you giggled and pressed a gentle kiss first to his nose, then a lingering, chaste kiss to his lips, "i am well aware that our feelings are mutual."

dainsleif never exactly expected for you to return his feelings, but he considers it a win in his book

though he feels infinitely unworthy of your love and affection, you often remind him that he deserves the world and all the love contained within it

it takes a while for him to open up about his past, but he trusts you with all that he is

so he sits down and tells you all he knows of his origins: khaenri'ah, the gods, his immortality, all of it

given that he's under the impression that you are a mere mortal human, his immortality is a subject that pains him the most

to know that you'd one day leave him behind and succumb to the fate of time

but you know that isn't true, and you recognize him as someone familiar from the wreckages of khaenri'ah

hiding your secret eats you up inside, especially since dain has made it excruciatingly clear that he desires nothing to do with the gods or anyone or anything associated with them

eventually, hiding becomes too much and you realize that he deserves the truth, even if dainsleif were to discard your bond

sitting under trees and reading had become a pleasant past time for the two of you, though you've always much rather preferred to hear dainsleif's smooth voice recount tales from the aged book that would have your eyes drooping and mouth curved into a serene smile.

but today, your face lacked its usual vibrancy and your smile seemed devoid of your usual joy as he read word after word with you perched on his lap. instead, your eyes lingered on the gentle green glow emitted from your hands and the guilt that ate away at you inside. the sun was just about to blanket itself over a drape of midnight sky, and dainsleif had begun to set up camp when he finally asked, "you don't seem like yourself today, is something the matter?"

you take in a shaky breath before turning to face him with hesitation in every one of your movements. "dain...you despise the gods, right?" timidly, you step into the shallows and fear knowing that soon you will have to face the deep end.

"yes, i have no respect nor care for them at all. why do you ask?"

the lump in your throat began to pulse, almost as if to tell you not to speak the words that had been broiling in your stomach for so long, but you knew it was impossible.

you allowed your eyes to slip behind their lids as your hands folded themselves into a position of prayer. viridian and chartreuse swirls of dendro energy formed from your chest and enveloped your body for a brief moment only to dissipate and leave you floating back to the ground in white, ancient garments with golden rings on your upper arm and left thigh. thick, chocolate colored branched formed by your temples and curved backwards to form horn-like structures. striking strips of verdant dendro energy ran up your arms and legs and settled at your throat to form the heart symbol.

you opened your eyes, and dainsleif found himself face to face with a ring of bright green around your irises that seemed so familiar.

"i'm the dendro archon." your voice was meek, and nothing like that of a god. from your clasped hands, your fingers unfurled to reveal your tiny gnosis decorated in little flowers and gleaming of warmth and the gentle touch of a flower petal.

if he hadn't seen the gnosis, or your archon clothes, dainsleif would hardly believe you. a joke, a taunting tease akin to pinching his cheek in a loving manner or nudging his ribs, that was what declaring yourself as an archon sounded like. but the gnosis in your hand, the tattoos on your skin, the clothing on your back, it all pointed to the obvious.

he was sure his expression was ruthless given the manner in which you silently responded with guarded hands.

"dain..." your hand unconsciously reached out to him to hold his face, but never got that far.

fury coursed through his body like a toxic viper, devoid of rational thoughts or understanding. his muscles jerked to slap your hand away, teeth bared full and anger glinting his in starry pupiled eyes.

"DON'T COME NEAR ME! don't take another step!"

you felt your heart stop in your chest. his eyes roamed over your body like a man possessed. you'd never seen dainsleif this angry or worked up. your sweet, kind, albeit too formal and a little awkward, dainsleif. each day he'd wake up and gaze at you with nothing but love and adoration, and now he stood before you defensively, shielding himself as if you were a monster.

"dain, please i can explain-"

"explain?! there's nothing to explain," dainsleif backed away from you, even as you halted your footsteps forwards, "you archons simply love to toy with people, don't you?"

his hands worked quickly to gather his items and sling his backpack over his shoulders.

"did you perhaps think that you could spend your time toying with a mortal? am i amusing to you? did you have your fill?!" he barked, eyes narrowed into hostile slits.

your voice wouldn't meet your lips no matter how hard you tried. you desperately wanted to deny his claims; that you loved him with all your heart, but it seemed your strangled silence was enough of an answer for him.

"do not follow me."

he didn't dare look at your face, for to feel compassion or empathy for a god would be a gross negligence of their actions towards his people. dainsleif had never ran that fast before in his life, nor had he ever faced the dilemma that brewed within his heart that urged him to turn around and talk things out. but the damage had been done, and he knew that there was no saving a bond shared between a khaenri'ahan and an archon.

you watched with watery eyes as dainsleif hurriedly ran further and further away from your embrace. your body fizzled with dendro energy as you numbly walked towards a nearby stream and crumpled to your knees, eventually falling limp on your side. rejection had been your worst fear, and not only had it come true but it cost you your most beloved. and now there was nothing you could do about it, so you cried and cried and cried and let the ground around you absorb your agonizing pain.

he can't exactly get you off of his mind no matter how hard he tries

dainsleif ends up spending a week in a hotel in a town far away from where he left you and can hardly rise from bed without feeling a rippling pain in his heart

a constant war between his emotions and his mind play out, and he doesn't know which side to align with

against all he stands for, dainsleif finds himself wandering back to his time with you: your radiant smile, jubilant laughter, kindness, generosity, empathy, the soft curve of your body and the gentle, feather light tough of your lips on his

thoughts of you plague his mind day in and day out, no matter what

there exists a lingering guilt that eats away at him when he recalls the brief moment he looked up to see the absolute distraught emotions on your face

he finds himself sitting on the edge of the hotel's bed, unable to sleep and mind filled with thoughts of you as he runs his thumb over an intricate bookmark you had bought for him

dainsleif often wonders about the ring of green around your eyes in your archon form, and why they appeared to be so familiar and so warm

and it suddenly hits him: memories of the distant past khaenri'ah where he'd been spared from the god's wrath and dragged unconscious from the wreckage

those same, familiar green irises sparked the realization that it had to be you who saved him

and this realization released the floodgates for the wave of guilt that crushed him under its weight

he had left you all by yourself and rejected you when you'd bared all of yourself to him

you knew who he was the moment you first met him, and kept silent of your kind deeds and he just knows that it's because that last thing you'd ever want is for him to feel obligated to be with you

and it's this realization that has his mind giving way to all the thoughts of you that he's suppressed

dainsleif can only hope that you would give this sinner just one last chance to beg for forgiveness

night had fallen by the time he reached his destination. dainsleif isn't sure what called to him to return to where he left you, after all you were quite intelligent and staying in one place for too long while traveling was never the brightest idea. but much to his surprise, your items lay exactly where you left them and had faced the elements. he stooped to pick up a soggy copy of your favorite book off of the ground that had faced the hardships of rain, the very same one he had been reading to you the evening of your confession. his heart stung and stuttered to know that something could have possibly happened to you.

his eyes frantically searched the shady tree area for any sign of you, only for a trail of small, yellow flowers to catch his eye. they trailed downwards off a rugged path, and his legs felt compelled to adhere to the strange breadcrumb trail.

the flowers lead him to a small clearing, where a gentle stream rushed by, and where your figure lay on your side surrounded by heaps upon heaps of little, lemony flowers. dainsleif's chest began to morph and twist with every step he took towards your body, still in your archon form. he feared so greatly that death had taken you into its hands as he knelt down with trembling legs to your body. much to his surprise, you were quite awake and numbly staring at the rushing water in front of your face. the light in your lovely eyes had faded, leaving the ring a dull hazel, the color of dirt or faded mud. faded tear tracks marked lines down the center of your face, and he knew that the damage he had done was immense.

"(y/n)..." his voice warbled with suppressed emotions as his lips morphed into a watery frown.

your eyes peeled themselves away from the flowing water and connected with dainsleif's, to which you replied with a half hearted chuckle and no more.

"i'm hallucinating now? heartbreak is fascinating." you mumbled with a sad smile as your hand moved upwards to caress his skin.

"you're not hallucinating, i'm...i am real." he murmured just as he placed his hand over yours.

the light within your eyes began to spark, then glimmer with hope as the realness of the situation set in. no words could escape your lips before he had pulled you up, drawn you into a tight hug and pressed kiss after kiss to your temples, just below your branch-like horns.

"could you ever forgive this foolish sinner?" dainsleif mumbled into your shoulder and squeezed tighter, as if you'd fade from his grasp should his grip slack even the slightest.

"dain...it's me who should be asking for forgiveness, not-"

dainsleif was never a selfish man, but with you he was allowed to indulge and savor your warmth. his lips cut off your refutes just as they were about to emerge from your lips.

"you saved me, didn't you?" he asked once parted from your lips.

"you remembered." you cooed, thumbing over his ruddy cheeks.

"i tried my best to reason with the gods, but dendro is not as powerful an element as others think." a sigh enveloped your words with regret and sorrow, hands moving downwards from his face to his shoulders, "but then, i saw you. and narrowly i managed to get you out before total ruin fell to khaenri'ah."

dainsleif's heart hammered ferociously in his chest upon understanding the true magnitude of your words. you hadn't laid siege to khaenri'ah, you hadn't harmed his people in any way. you were innocent.

"i'm a fool." dainsleif berated, guilt wrenching his heart in every which way.

"you're no fool, you've just been hurt." you coo, wiping away at a stray tear that trickled down his face.

"how is it that you're able to be so kind to me even now?" he asked. your sniffles and mumbled whimpers hidden behind that smile of yours tore his heart in two, knowing that his rash actions had been the cause of your sorrow.

"it's because i love you, wholly. you are no toy for me to play with, and i will follow you to the ends of teyvat if you would indulge me." you caress the heat of his cheek and allow him to wipe away the tears that had fallen from your eyes.

"and i, you, whether you were mortal or an archon. you'll forever have my heart." and the words he spoke were truer that he'd even been, more honest than he'd ever felt with himself in so long.

his words made your limp heart swell with affection, and any doubt you might've had flitted away with the cool wind.

"you are absolutely beautiful." his eyes study you in a passionate way as his hands glide over your bark horns, to your supple cheeks, then finally coming to thumb underneath the skin of your vibrant, crystal-like eyes where a ring of soft green peered back at him.

you shy away from his gaze, face warm and fluster evidence in the warbled smile that creeps up onto your lips. but dainsleif was not finished, for a man who craved every inch of you he could never be satiated with doubt lingering in your body.

"i promise to you, you shall never shed another tear under my watch, my starlight." his lips hovered above yours momentarily, as if asking for permission before you closed the gap and looped your arms firm around his neck.

the love of a god was infinite and powerful and even if he were to wander the grounds of teyvat for a century more, he'd be alright as long as you stood by his side.

despite his grievances with the gods and celestia, dainsleif has come to an odd conclusion: not all the gods were responsible for what happened

you are his prime example

your capacity for love and kindness is so foreign to a man who has known nothing but solitude and grief

and he learns to embrace it, one step at a time with your help

dainsleif carries a heavy conscience, but he's at east knowing that you are but a momentary longing glance away and he's free to usher you close for comforting cuddles

he's much more careful with expressing his distaste for the gods around you after you reveal yourself (even if you encourage him to be more vocal)

dainsleif believes in fate as a harbinger of sorrow and anguish

but if fate had brought you to him, then perhaps fate wasn't such a bad concept after all

date published: september 10th, 2021