chusuuke

[chusuuke]

Xiao was not a man of many words. But with you, he supposed, he could spare a few more. 

[chusuuke]

dated

premise: a misunderstanding following your moment of honesty turns into a rift between you and your best friend aventurine. you thought you were choosing a new way to live. he thought you were choosing him. or, in other words, Aventurine mistakenly believes you’re dating while you still think you need to confess

your hearts were always off by a beat.

genres: angst, romance word count: 2.9k

note: it's been quite some time since i've been here... so with this fic i rise from the grave! hope you enjoy!

You and Aventurine have always been close—too close, maybe. You’re the kind of best friends who fall into step without thinking, who can read each other’s moods with just a glance, who share a connection so effortless that from the outside it always looks like you’re one step away from something more. Everyone else seems to see it: how naturally you fit together, how perfectly your laughter intertwines, how each silence feels full rather than empty. Yet, despite the current humming just beneath the surface, neither of you has ever dared to dive past the comfort of what you have.

Tonight, after a particularly draining day, the two of you find yourselves sharing lukewarm takeout on the rooftop you’ve claimed as yours. It’s a ritual you’ve fallen into countless times, a familiar refuge suspended above the city that sprawls endlessly beneath you, a distant, untouchable sea of flickering lights. Late-night conversations here always carry a different kind of honesty: softer, unguarded, as though the rest of the world has dissipated.

You gaze out over the city, your noodles turning cold as you stir them absently. “Do you ever feel like we spend too much time waiting for things to happen instead of just doing something?”

Aventurine glances at you. “What do you mean?”

“We hold ourselves back. We hesitate, overthink. And before we know it, the moment’s passed, and we never even tried.”

His chest tightens; he knows exactly how that feels. He’s felt it every day, waiting for you to notice what he never says.

“You’re talking about regrets,” he murmurs carefully.

You shake your head. “Not exactly. It’s more that... I don’t want us to keep letting things slip by just because we’re not sure enough to take the first step.”

Aventurine studies you closely, pulse quickening. There’s something in your voice—something unusually steady, clear, as if you’re stepping deliberately to the edge of something you’ve thought about for a long time. He hesitates, afraid to misinterpret, but even more afraid to miss the meaning lingering in your words.

“You’re talking about us.” It’s not quite a question, not fully a statement.

You tilt your head slightly, giving him a look soft with amusement but edged with mild surprise, as if the subject had always been obvious. “I suppose I am. You and I—maybe it’s time we stopped searching everywhere else for something that’s always been right here. Stop hesitating, stop overthinking, and just...see where we go.”

His breath catches, and suddenly the rooftop feels impossibly high.

“What do you think, Aventurine?” you prompt him, something unreadable yet inexplicably stirring in your expression. “Perhaps we’ve been overcomplicating something that’s been simple all along. Shouldn’t we take the chance that’s right in front of us?”

Aventurine’s world contracts—sound, motion, and thought all folding into the space between you. You’re saying it. You’re finally saying it. The city’s distant hum dissolves like a tide pulling back.

“Are you saying…you want to try?”

You don’t miss a beat. “Yeah, I am. I do.”

He swallows, searching your expression for confirmation. “With me?”

“Of course with you,” you chuckle.

Aventurine exhales, the tension bleeding from his shoulders.

“Then, let’s do it,” he proposes, a slow, disbelieving smile breaking across his lips. “No more waiting.”

You smile back, holding his gaze steadily. “No more waiting.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs. That rooftop moment becomes the one he has been waiting for. He and you don’t speak much more that night, but he walks you home, his heart lighter than it’s ever been. From that night on, he treats you as his partner—not dramatically, but with quiet, affectionate gestures he had always held back before. He texts you in the morning, calls you before bed, mentions you casually as his other half. He calls your name so sweetly, stays close when you walk, and assumes, with quiet certainty, that from now on, the two of you are a team.

You notice the change: the way he looks at you a little softer, the way his hand brushes yours more intentionally. It flusters you and makes you feel giddy in a way you’re not quite sure how to handle, but you don’t question it. You’re just beginning to sort through your feelings, trying to understand how deep they run, but you know you enjoy his presence, his care, and the way his warmth lingers when he sits beside you.

To you, that night on the rooftop was about something bigger than romance: it spoke of intention, of choosing to move forward in life with purpose rather than simply drifting. But Aventurine is part of your life, isn’t he? So even if you don’t fully grasp what’s unfolding between you and your best friend, you’re content to let it evolve naturally, to see where it leads. What you don’t realize, though, is the subtle misalignment between you two. Because for Aventurine, something major has shifted. To him, your relationship has entered new territory. So when you make even more space for other friendships, including time spent with other guys, a quiet unease begins to settle inside him.

At first, he brushes it off. She cares about me. She chose me. You’re just adjusting. It’s normal, he thinks, to feel uncertain at the start, to take things slowly. So slowly. You’re not used to this, maybe. He reminds himself that love is patience, that it’s okay to wait. He’ll give you time. He’s always waited.

But it keeps happening.

You bail on plans once, then again. He notices how casual your apologies are and how quickly you can reschedule him for later. You leave lunch early to meet up with Boothill—a name that’s come up more and more lately, someone whose humor you say reminds you of Aventurine’s, only “quirkier, a little more offbeat.” To you, it’s just friendly conversation, another face in your expanding circle. But to Aventurine, the words sting like subtle rejections, leaving him to wonder just how secure his place in your life truly is.

The disconnect doesn’t just linger; it grows. Each time you act like nothing has changed, like this new chapter isn’t as significant to you as it is to him, something inside him shifts. The joy in your connection becomes more transparent, more fragile, as if it could slip through his fingers at any moment.

Why is this so easy for her? he wonders. Didn’t she choose me?

And when you laugh with someone else, when you slip effortlessly into the comfort of others’ company, it feels less like a mutual choice and more like a decision that never really included him. With each passing day, the doubt gnaws at him, carving itself into the spaces between you both until, finally, it becomes too much.

It all comes to a head on an evening that’s supposed to be yours. You were meant to meet at your usual café, a small ritual set aside just for the two of you as proof that you were still trying. Or at least, that’s what he wanted to believe.

Instead, your last-minute text arrives: Hey, I forgot I promised to help Boothill with something! Rain check?

Aventurine stares at the message, his grip tightening on his phone. Again.

No worries, I haven’t left yet, he texts back, then sets his phone down and forces a smile at the waitress as she takes his order.

When you finally arrive, hours later, you still sport that easy smile, that natural warmth that flows so freely with everyone else, as if tonight is just another casual arrangement. He doesn’t know whether he feels more frustrated or exhausted, the tension in his chest coiling itself into something his coffee can’t help him swallow down.

“Hey,” you start cautiously, sensing something’s off. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugs without looking at you, eyes on his long-cold drink. “I'm getting used to it.”

The bitterness in his tone catches you off guard. “Aventurine, are you okay?”

“Do you even care?” he asks suddenly.

You blink, genuinely confused. “What?”

“You said you wanted to try,” he says. His fingers curl around the handle of his mug. “But it feels like I’m the only one actually doing that.”

You frown. “Aventurine, I do care. Just because I’m also trying in other things doesn’t mean I’m not also present here.”

“Other things,” he echoes bitterly. “Right. You always have time for everyone else. But when it’s me, there’s always something more important.”

“That’s not fair. I have other friends too, you know,” you protest. “I can’t just drop everything in my life for you.”

His jaw tightens. You quickly shake your head, backtracking.

“I didn’t mean that. I'm sorry. I really appreciate you for being so flexible. You’ve always been really considerate.” You offer a small, grateful look. “It means a lot.”

The words land wrong. Instead of acting as reassurance, they twist like a knife. Aventurine is doing everything to make this work, but to you, he’s just being flexible. Considerate. Is that all this is to you? A dynamic where he just waits until you find the time?

“Glad I can be useful,” he scoffs.

Your smile falters. “That’s not what I meant.”

“But that’s what it feels like,” he counters. “I never asked you to drop everything. But I thought if we were—”

He stops abruptly, the words caught painfully in his throat. If we were together. But saying it out loud would be like pressing on a bruise.

Instead, he exhales shakily. “I thought I mattered more to you than just another appointment you could reschedule.”

“You do matter,” you insist earnestly, a flicker of hurt crossing your face. “Why are you acting like I don’t care?”

“Because it sure doesn’t feel like you do!” he snaps. “I thought we were doing this together, but I'm starting to get the feeling I’m in it alone.”

“You’re not alone,” you argue. “I told you—I am trying.”

Aventurine shakes his head scornfully. “Are you?”

“Yes! I’ve been doing my best to take life head-on. But you—” you falter, exasperated. “You’re expecting too much. Too fast.”

“All I expected was for you to mean it when you said you wanted to try.”

“I do mean it!”

“Then why doesn’t it feel like it?” he retorts, voice cracking despite himself. “Why do I always feel like the one left waiting?”

You gape at him, the rawness in his tone sending you reeling. You never meant for this to happen. You thought you both were moving forward together. But now, observing the pain on his face, you realize just how far apart you’ve actually been. Had you really been so blind?

“Why does it feel like I’m the only one thinking of you? Of us?” he whispers.

“I am thinking of you. I do think of us.” Unfiltered words tumble out in your desperation, forming a plea, an apology, and a truth you haven’t been ready to face. “I like you, Aventurine.”

A long silence stretches between you two. For a moment—a brief, fragile moment—relief flickers in his eyes. But just as quickly, it vanishes, swallowed by something cold and far-off.

“No,” he says flatly. “You don’t get to do this now.”

“Do what?” you exclaim. “Tell you how I feel?”

“Use me as some kind of safety net until you figure out what you really want,” he fires back scathingly.

A single car horn blares outside.

Aventurine continues. “You say that because you’re afraid of losing me, and you think it’ll fix things. Don’t make it about me just to ease your guilt.”

The accusation hits you with a hollow thud. You try in vain to smooth the trembling in your voice. “You really think that little of me?”

His glare doesn’t soften. “If you really meant it, if you really wanted this, then why did it take me walking away for you to say it?”

You freeze. There’s no answer. Because even though you’ve been living in separate versions of the same story, for one brief, painful moment, your narratives align. Maybe, deep down, you had always assumed there would be more time, that your best friend Aventurine would always wait while you caught up. But had you ever actually tried to catch him?

“You don’t get to decide how I feel,” you manage, hating how unsteady, how uncertain you sound.

His eyes lock onto yours and do not waver. “No. But I do get to decide when I’ve had enough.”

Your heart stumbles at his words. “Enough of what?” you ask, dreading the answer.

“Enough of waiting for you to care as much as I do,” he exclaims. “I kept telling myself you just needed time. That eventually, you'd get there too. But honestly, you were never going to, were you?”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” His voice is level now, controlled in a way that feels almost unnatural. “You say you like me, but if you really did, you wouldn’t have treated me like an afterthought.”

You suck in a breath. “You’re twisting everything. I never meant to make you feel that way!”

“But you did.”

“I told you, I was trying—”

“No, you weren’t.” He lets out a hollow laugh, raking a hand through his hair. “Maybe you wanted to, maybe you thought you were. But in the end, you never really chose me. Not when it actually counted.”

The worst part isn’t his frustration. It is the way he sounds like he’s disappointed in you.

“I can’t believe I actually wanted to be with someone who would end everything over this,” you choke in disbelief.

His expression doesn’t even flicker. “And I can’t believe I thought you were someone who actually meant what they said.”

Silence.

Too heavy. Too final. Your fingers curl into your palms as you wait for him to take it back, for yourself to take it back—for one of you to bridge the gap before it grows too wide. However, before either of you decide to speak again, your phone buzzes, a text lighting up the screen. Aventurine’s gaze flicks briefly to it, catching Boothill’s name displayed clearly.

Thanks again for earlier—hope Aventurine wasn’t too upset. Couldn’t have done it without you as always!

His shoulders stiffen. You immediately flip your phone face down, but the damage is done.

He gives a short, humorless laugh, and something inside him shuts down completely. “Right. Should’ve figured.”

Your stomach drops. He doesn’t sound angry—it’s worse than anger. He sounds resigned.

“Aventurine,” you plead, desperation leaking into your voice. “Let me explain.”

“I don’t think there’s anything left to explain,” he says softly. He pushes his chair back, setting a few bills on the table. “I’m tired of being your afterthought.”

“Please, don’t go like this.”

Aventurine is already stepping away, shaking his head. “Forget it,” he says, his smile empty. “You don’t have to ‘try’ anymore.”

You move to follow—just one step—but your body refuses. Because the look in his eyes, the flatness in his voice, guarantees what you’ve been afraid to admit: it’s too late.

The café door jingles as it swings shut behind him.

You sink into your chair, staring numbly at the cash he left behind—enough to cover both of your expenses—a strangely neat, practical finality. Boothill’s message buzzes again, gently insistent, but you can’t bring yourself to look.

Outside the café window, the city lights flicker as indifferently as ever, illuminating a thousand separate stories, none of them yours. Aventurine’s silhouette melts into the distant tide of strangers. You watch until you can no longer tell him apart from the evening crowd, until you’re staring at an indistinct blur of passing lives in which he was somewhere among them, moving away from you faster than you realized was possible. Maybe he’s finally tired of standing still.

You hadn’t lied. You did mean it when you said you wanted to try.

But now you wonder bitterly if trying was ever enough.

Something twists painfully inside you—the ache of waking from a comforting dream, only to discover it has drifted away long before you opened your eyes. And in its absence, you understand that what you’ve lost isn’t just a friendship. It’s Aventurine. Kakavasha. All of him. Your best friend, your most beloved companion, the one who waited for you with quiet devotion until the waiting emptied him out. And how you wish he were still waiting.

But then, you think ruefully, wasn’t that exactly what you were trying to escape? A life spent endlessly postponing?

The irony tastes like seawater—sharp, briny, and impossible to swallow. You choke on the realization, eyes stinging with grief you can’t yet name. Outside, the world moves on, unaware that within this still café, something precious has ended. And in the hush that follows, you understand painfully that maybe some things, once broken, can’t be neatly fixed, or explained, or made right again. Maybe unmade choices leave the deepest, most enduring echoes.

You’re no longer sure if this is an ending or the moment you realize you’re no longer part of his story. But in the end, the distinction hardly matters: Aventurine isn’t waiting anymore. He’s already gone, slipped beneath the surface.

And a gemstone, once lost to the waves, is impossible to reclaim from an ever-moving sea.

[chusuuke]

genshin boys snowball fight with you (part 2)

premise: you ask the genshin boys (separate) to partake in a snowball fight with you! features: kaeya, childe, diluc, scaramouche notes: part 3 coming soon! possible future characters: chongyun, xingqiu, venti, zhongli, ayato, kazuha, or heizou!

kaeya

– you’d both been sent on a mission in dragonspine and had been trekking through the snow for hours 

– nothing overly eventful or out of the ordinary had occurred; you’d encountered a couple of small enemies but nothing of note, so naturally, you’re on edge

– kaeya, on the other hand, seems to lack care in the world. he strolls behind you, humming a tune, while you look around warily for traps

– you finally stop with a huff and wheel on him. “shouldn’t you be a little more cautious?” 

– “i’ll protect you, so don’t worry,” he replies playfully. “just relax—” 

– suddenly, kaeya freezes and points behind you

– “huh? what’s wrong?”

– “frostarm lawachurl,” he whispers urgently

– immediately your sword is drawn, and you whip around to scan the frozen trees around you. you don’t sense any threats, so you turn back around, confused. “i don’t see any—”

– whack! a snowball hits you in the face

– you stiffen. cold snow slowly slides down your face as kaeya keels over and laughs hysterically 

– when he catches your eye, however, he stops mid-laugh

– usually, you’re pretty gentle, but kaeya sees murderous intent 

– “kaeya,” you seethe, stalking towards him

– he scrambles backward, terrified. “woah, woah, woah, put the sword away first!”

– “remember, you started it,” you sing, skillfully spinning your sword by the hilt while advancing upon him

– his attempts to hinder you with more snowballs, but those are easily deflected with your sword

– less of a snowball fight and more of you terrorizing kaeya

– you finally corner him, cackling evilly. his pleas for you to show mercy fall on deaf ears as you raise a fistful of snow to stuff in his face. “any last words?”

– he begins to speak, but his expression changes when he looks past you. “i know this is incredibly ironic, but there is definitely a frostarm lawachurl approaching, though i don’t think it’s noticed us yet”

– “like i’m gonna fall for that again.” you roll your eyes, not bothering to turn around, then shout as loudly as possible, “hey! over here, lawlachurl!”

– “RRRRROAAARR”

– “...”

– “yeah, it’s definitely noticed us”

– fortunately, you both manage to survive and will laugh about the memory later

– the next time you encounter snow, kaeya will propose that you have another snowball fight: a fair one, this time

childe

– having grown up alongside the snow, he’s had plenty of snowball fights in his youth, not to mention four other siblings to join him!

– it’s a fond childhood memory for him, and he’s excited to share this pleasant experience with you

– he’s quite a snowball fight veteran, except now he’s a little more unhinged

– he doesn’t care about making snowballs and just throws plain handfuls of snow at people

– when necessary for projectile aerodynamics, though, he will shape them into spheres 

– watching him pull off impressive maneuvers and chuck snow with concerning speed, you’re glad he’s on your team

– with both close and long-range combat experience, it’s no surprise he excels in the art of dumping snow on people 

– he doesn’t often get hit, but when he does, the aggressor becomes the target of ten times the amount of snow they landed on him

– just wait until he finds a shovel or bucket

– he will literally launch pounds of snow at people whilst laughing maniacally

– every time yet another opponent is buried alive beneath the cold white, he turns to you with a mirthful grin

– “look~ we’ve almost won!”

– you pause, appraising the destruction, and sigh

– then a snowball splatters against your chest 

– childe is immediately at attention

– “don’t worry, i’ll protect you!” he proclaims, leaping toward your attacker

– safe to say they are now resting under a snow mountain 

diluc

– he has bad memories attached to rain, but you tell him there can be good kinds of rain 

– “snow is just rain when the weather in the sky is below freezing,” you say, smiling gently

– you’re one of the few he’s confided in about his past, so when you say you want to make more good memories of rain with him by having a snowball fight, he’s grateful that you care for him

– at first, he’s tentative while throwing them at you; he knows that snow is one of the safer types of projectiles, but he’d forever blame himself if he somehow hurt you

– with your coaxing and contagious enthusiasm, however, he eases into it

– unfortunately, you had overlooked one thing

– you had said that snow was below freezing rain, but what you failed to understand was that it was below freezing rain

– thus, it is only natural that after being hit several times by that very snow, you, too, feel below freezing 

– as the snowball fight was an impromptu idea, you also hadn’t prepared any gloves to keep your hands warm, so your fingers feel like popsicles

– diluc notices you shivering before you do

– his brow furrows ever so slightly. “let’s pause momentarily,” he suggests, dropping his snowball and beckoning you over. “if you’d please come here”

– puzzled, you slowly approach until you’re standing in front of him

– he slides off his jacket and delicately drapes it over your shoulders

– “you won’t be cold?” you worry

– “i won’t.” crimson glows at his waist as he partially activates his vision, and a burst of warmth ripples outward to thaw your frozen self

– “wow…i’m so lucky to have a portable heater with me” you giggle, palms out toward him as if you were warming them by a fireplace

– he offers you a small but soft smile that somehow warms you more effectively than his pyro abilities

– after sufficiently returning to room temperature, you and diluc continue the snowball fight

– he finds it endearing to watch you tromp around in the snow wearing his coat with a silly grin never leaving his face

– there really can be good kinds of rain, he thinks

scaramouche

– he is a monster 

– it doesn’t matter if he likes you or dislikes you; he has the most underhanded methods

– during a team fight, he approaches you and requests to use a couple of the snowballs from the pile you’d been manufacturing

– you’d been hoping to stockpile artillery to support your team, but giving away a few to teammates as you made them couldn’t hurt, right? ...right?

– haha no. it hurt. 

– a lot. 

– because it turns out he’s actually not on your team and he literally THREW THEM AT YOUR FACE AT POINT BANK RANGE, LIKE, SCARA WHAT ARE YOU THINKING 

– provoked and ready to jump him in retaliation, you hastily brush the snow off your face

– scara’s stifling his laughter, but as soon as he sees the tears in your eyes, he stops abruptly 

– you hastily make an excuse, embarrassed: sure, it stings, but you swear it doesn’t hurt enough to cry. you just got some snow in your eyes, is all

– nevertheless, he brusquely says he’ll switch to your team: after all, someone needs to make up for you being weak

– if you pay close attention, you’ll notice that his snowballs tend to attack those who were targeting you

– the underhanded tactics he utilized on you will be employed against the other team

– he rarely gets hit by snowballs, mostly because people are afraid of the wrath they will undergo if they hit him

– if scara gets hit, he’ll pause, sigh, then whip around and swiftly strike the poor soul who made the mistake of going for him

– smile and tell him you’re impressed and think he’s cool. he’ll scoff in response, but when you’re not looking, he’ll confusedly smack his chest to check if his heart is dysfunctional––if not, why did it skip a beat?

[part one] [part three - coming soon]

[chusuuke]

genshin boys snowball fight with you (part 2)

premise: you ask the genshin boys (separate) to partake in a snowball fight with you! features: kaeya, childe, diluc, scaramouche notes: part 3 coming soon! possible future characters: chongyun, xingqiu, venti, zhongli, ayato, kazuha, or heizou!

kaeya

– you’d both been sent on a mission in dragonspine and had been trekking through the snow for hours 

– nothing overly eventful or out of the ordinary had occurred; you’d encountered a couple of small enemies but nothing of note, so naturally, you’re on edge

– kaeya, on the other hand, seems to lack care in the world. he strolls behind you, humming a tune, while you look around warily for traps

– you finally stop with a huff and wheel on him. “shouldn’t you be a little more cautious?” 

– “i’ll protect you, so don’t worry,” he replies playfully. “just relax—” 

– suddenly, kaeya freezes and points behind you

– “huh? what’s wrong?”

– “frostarm lawachurl,” he whispers urgently

– immediately your sword is drawn, and you whip around to scan the frozen trees around you. you don’t sense any threats, so you turn back around, confused. “i don’t see any—”

– whack! a snowball hits you in the face

– you stiffen. cold snow slowly slides down your face as kaeya keels over and laughs hysterically 

– when he catches your eye, however, he stops mid-laugh

– usually, you’re pretty gentle, but kaeya sees murderous intent 

– “kaeya,” you seethe, stalking towards him

– he scrambles backward, terrified. “woah, woah, woah, put the sword away first!”

– “remember, you started it,” you sing, skillfully spinning your sword by the hilt while advancing upon him

– his attempts to hinder you with more snowballs, but those are easily deflected with your sword

– less of a snowball fight and more of you terrorizing kaeya

– you finally corner him, cackling evilly. his pleas for you to show mercy fall on deaf ears as you raise a fistful of snow to stuff in his face. “any last words?”

– he begins to speak, but his expression changes when he looks past you. “i know this is incredibly ironic, but there is definitely a frostarm lawachurl approaching, though i don’t think it’s noticed us yet”

– “like i’m gonna fall for that again.” you roll your eyes, not bothering to turn around, then shout as loudly as possible, “hey! over here, lawlachurl!”

– “RRRRROAAARR”

– “...”

– “yeah, it’s definitely noticed us”

– fortunately, you both manage to survive and will laugh about the memory later

– the next time you encounter snow, kaeya will propose that you have another snowball fight: a fair one, this time

childe

– having grown up alongside the snow, he’s had plenty of snowball fights in his youth, not to mention four other siblings to join him!

– it’s a fond childhood memory for him, and he’s excited to share this pleasant experience with you

– he’s quite a snowball fight veteran, except now he’s a little more unhinged

– he doesn’t care about making snowballs and just throws plain handfuls of snow at people

– when necessary for projectile aerodynamics, though, he will shape them into spheres 

– watching him pull off impressive maneuvers and chuck snow with concerning speed, you’re glad he’s on your team

– with both close and long-range combat experience, it’s no surprise he excels in the art of dumping snow on people 

– he doesn’t often get hit, but when he does, the aggressor becomes the target of ten times the amount of snow they landed on him

– just wait until he finds a shovel or bucket

– he will literally launch pounds of snow at people whilst laughing maniacally

– every time yet another opponent is buried alive beneath the cold white, he turns to you with a mirthful grin

– “look~ we’ve almost won!”

– you pause, appraising the destruction, and sigh

– then a snowball splatters against your chest 

– childe is immediately at attention

– “don’t worry, i’ll protect you!” he proclaims, leaping toward your attacker

– safe to say they are now resting under a snow mountain 

diluc

– he has bad memories attached to rain, but you tell him there can be good kinds of rain 

– “snow is just rain when the weather in the sky is below freezing,” you say, smiling gently

– you’re one of the few he’s confided in about his past, so when you say you want to make more good memories of rain with him by having a snowball fight, he’s grateful that you care for him

– at first, he’s tentative while throwing them at you; he knows that snow is one of the safer types of projectiles, but he’d forever blame himself if he somehow hurt you

– with your coaxing and contagious enthusiasm, however, he eases into it

– unfortunately, you had overlooked one thing

– you had said that snow was below freezing rain, but what you failed to understand was that it was below freezing rain

– thus, it is only natural that after being hit several times by that very snow, you, too, feel below freezing 

– as the snowball fight was an impromptu idea, you also hadn’t prepared any gloves to keep your hands warm, so your fingers feel like popsicles

– diluc notices you shivering before you do

– his brow furrows ever so slightly. “let’s pause momentarily,” he suggests, dropping his snowball and beckoning you over. “if you’d please come here”

– puzzled, you slowly approach until you’re standing in front of him

– he slides off his jacket and delicately drapes it over your shoulders

– “you won’t be cold?” you worry

– “i won’t.” crimson glows at his waist as he partially activates his vision, and a burst of warmth ripples outward to thaw your frozen self

– “wow…i’m so lucky to have a portable heater with me” you giggle, palms out toward him as if you were warming them by a fireplace

– he offers you a small but soft smile that somehow warms you more effectively than his pyro abilities

– after sufficiently returning to room temperature, you and diluc continue the snowball fight

– he finds it endearing to watch you tromp around in the snow wearing his coat with a silly grin never leaving his face

– there really can be good kinds of rain, he thinks

scaramouche

– he is a monster 

– it doesn’t matter if he likes you or dislikes you; he has the most underhanded methods

– during a team fight, he approaches you and requests to use a couple of the snowballs from the pile you’d been manufacturing

– you’d been hoping to stockpile artillery to support your team, but giving away a few to teammates as you made them couldn’t hurt, right? ...right?

– haha no. it hurt. 

– a lot. 

– because it turns out he’s actually not on your team and he literally THREW THEM AT YOUR FACE AT POINT BANK RANGE, LIKE, SCARA WHAT ARE YOU THINKING 

– provoked and ready to jump him in retaliation, you hastily brush the snow off your face

– scara’s stifling his laughter, but as soon as he sees the tears in your eyes, he stops abruptly 

– you hastily make an excuse, embarrassed: sure, it stings, but you swear it doesn’t hurt enough to cry. you just got some snow in your eyes, is all

– nevertheless, he brusquely says he’ll switch to your team: after all, someone needs to make up for you being weak

– if you pay close attention, you’ll notice that his snowballs tend to attack those who were targeting you

– the underhanded tactics he utilized on you will be employed against the other team

– he rarely gets hit by snowballs, mostly because people are afraid of the wrath they will undergo if they hit him

– if scara gets hit, he’ll pause, sigh, then whip around and swiftly strike the poor soul who made the mistake of going for him

– smile and tell him you’re impressed and think he’s cool. he’ll scoff in response, but when you’re not looking, he’ll confusedly smack his chest to check if his heart is dysfunctional––if not, why did it skip a beat?

[part one] [part three - coming soon]

[chusuuke]

genshin boys snowball fight with you

premise: you ask the genshin boys (separate) to partake in a snowball fight with you! features: itto, razor, thoma, gorou, bennett, albedo notes: part 2 coming soon. possible future characters: chongyun, xingqiu, venti, zhongli, ayato, kazuha, kaeya, diluc, scaramouche, childe, or heizou!

itto

– he loves snowball fights; he’s so excited

– you can expect the whole arataki gang to take part in extreme snowball warfare

– in the snow, itto becomes the experienced and strategic general, leading his troops to victory

– you’re under his command, of course (he just wouldn’t bear to see you on the enemy side)

– you and genta are crouched down behind a blockade of snow, but itto stands tall and seriously, looking down

– you chuckle as he addresses you and an invisible audience of several thousand nonexistent soldiers

– he sounds like a wizened warrior when he delivers an encouraging speech about making a last stand 

– then a snowball hits him in the shoulder

– he falls dramatically to his knees, clutching his shoulder and grimacing

– “c–captain!” akira wails, both of you shuffling over to him

– itto grits his teeth and smiles through the ‘pain’. “it’s just a scratch. the battle must go on.”

– he promptly jumps up and charges across the battlefield to the other team’s snow fort, dodging and swatting projectiles out of the air

– he bends down to scoop up handfuls of snow and hurls them at akira, mamoru, and shinobu in the other base, never breaking his stride

– you and genta follow him, laughing and hollering at the others cowering behind their snow barrier 

– oh how the turn tables

– suddenly you hear itto shouting to you, “look out, soldier!”

– before you can process it, itto’s outstretched, diving sideways in front of you and bellowing, “sacrificeeeee,” as a snowball hits him square in the chest

– he lands on the snow and immediately starts writhing

– “AAAAH IT’S SO COLD!”

– “itto!” you scold him, “this is why you can’t be half–nude in the snow!”

– “[n–name]! i mean––Soldier, help meeee~” 

– you help itto stand up and the fight continues

– later, everyone is unsurprised when itto comes down with a cold

razor 

– he hasn’t been in a snowball fight before, so you’ll have to explain it to him 

– at first, he just bats snowballs out of the air with his hands

– will confusedly throw handfuls of snow until you laugh and tell him no, razor, you’re supposed to make it into a ball!

– does his best to make snowballs but they end up varying in size and shape like a misshapen collection of white rocks 

– when he does make a successful snowball, he’ll turn towards you in excitement: his eyes will sparkle and he‘ll have the tiniest smile curving his lips

– if you praise his nicely shaped snowball, he’ll blush and smile wider

– by then it will have fallen apart and melted a bit so he’ll wilt with disappointment 

– but then you can just make one for him and he’ll treasure it until it also melts

– he’ll keep adding snow and packing it together to make it last longer

– when he makes more snowballs himself, he doesn’t want to throw them at you, so he just gives them to you

– when hit with a snowball, he’ll look down uncertainly at the snow on his clothes 

– but if he gets snow in his hair he’ll shake his head in a dog–like fashion

thoma

– he’s seen some rare snowball fights between ayaka and ayato in their youth, but even when they asked him to join he felt pretty hesitant; after all, they are the young master and missus of the kamisato household

– so when you ask him to join you in a snowball fight, he's a bit nervous but happy to oblige

– he’s tentative to throw them at first because he doesn’t want to hit you

– but he acquiesces when you insist, telling him you feel guilty pelting him with snow when he isn’t trying to do the same

– he’s careful not to throw them too hard, though

– and if there’s any semblance that you’ve hurt yourself, he’ll rush over to you and check if you’re okay

– at one point, your attempt at dodging leads you to fall backward into the snow

– thoma immediately drops his next snowball and hurries to your side

– “i’m so sorry! are you okay?” he asks worriedly. “let me help you up.”

– he leans forward and stretches out a hand 

– you startle him by pulling him down onto the snow beside you

– “let’s make snow angels,” you beam

– thoma just likes spending time with you, so as long as you have fun, he’s happy

– as he relaxes, he ends up having more fun than he thought

gorou

– he’s had a couple of snowball fights in his life, but never one as fun as that with you 

– he’s startlingly light on the snow which prevents him from sinking down as he steps

– it’s probably a dog thing

– as opposed to you, who’s knee–deep in the snow... for once, gorou looks tall (he looks offended when you tell him this)

– his weightlessness comes to his advantage. he agilely maneuvers around the snow, dodging the snowballs you throw at him

– he’ll dig holes in the snow to hide in and pitch snowballs long–distance at you

– it doesn't help that his weapon is a bow; expect him to throw with deadly accuracy

– he might even establish a whole tunnel system that runs beneath the snow: also probably a dog thing

– good luck finding him 

– (but if you’re on the same team, he‘ll lead you through the tunnels)

– when he gets hit, he’ll continue on as if nothing happens: a soldier always perseveres 

– unless, of course, the snow tickles his ears or he’s been hit too many times. in that case, he’ll squeeze his eyes shut and shake similarly to a wet dog 

– take this opportunity to touch his ears by brushing the snow off them!! of course, if you ask nicely normally he'd let you and only you touch them

– if he gets hot, he’ll eat the snow to cool down like the habit of sled dogs

– overall, he's like a doggo in the snow. a deadly doggo

bennett

– his vision may be pyro, but he loves snowball fights

– he's badgered kaeya in the past to make it snow for him, and you and the cryo user have had to explain that's not how it works

– so as soon as you two find snow, bennett immediately wants to have a snowball fight

– he might get so excited he accidentally starts melting the snow around him

– the best way to describe him is a wild snowball machine gun: he makes a huge pile of snowballs in 30 seconds then chucks them all in true machine gun fashion

– he will also throw other people’s snowballs if he sees them around, so if you have your own pile, you better watch out!

– or just make snowballs for him to throw––he’ll like that

– when he gets hit by a snowball he just laughs with glee and puts in more effort

– he will try to make the biggest snowball ever and gives it to you to play catch:

“[name]~ throw it here!” 

you eye the basketball–sized snowball which is already crumbling in your hands. “uh, bennett, i don’t think that’s gonna work.” 

“just try.” He gestures excitedly. 

“...if you say so.”

– it is safe to say that bennett is now completely covered in one basketball’s worth of snow 

albedo

– he works in the snowy mountains of dragonspine, yet he’s never had a snowball fight

– however, when klee visits him there and you’re also present, you sometimes have snowball fights with her

– so one day klee asks albedo to join you two in one of your snowball fights

– he ends up squatting down and working the whole time making one perfect snowball: perfectly shaped, compacted, weighted, and aerodynamic (albedo...snowballs aren’t meant to be perfect, you tell him)

– mumbles equations to himself with pinpoint focus on the snow in his hands, ignoring the snowballs whizzing past him as you and klee battle for your lives

– when you hit him, it’s an accident; you were aiming for klee, but your pitching trajectory was a bit too far down

– your snowball smacks him directly in the back of his head, and you and klee both gasp

– apologies flood from your mouth, and you brace yourself for his annoyance as his head slowly swivels around, still squatting 

– he merely offers you a small fond smile and holds up his snowball to show you his progress

– overall, he’s thankful that you are nice to klee, and he’s glad you both had fun

– he may even bring a sample of snow back to his lab because your snowball fight has given him an idea

[part two]

[chusuuke]

consulting kaeya

premise: if you consult kaeya before stealing the Holy Lyre der Himmel (traveler!reader) word count: 928 note: first post! i got this idea from kaeya's quote in his character story 2 that you get at friendship lv. 3. it just seemed to fit perfectly into this scene

“You want to steal the Holy Lyre?” you repeat, appalled. 

The teal-eyed bard before you immediately raises his index finger to his lips. 

“Keep it down!” He glances nervously at the other individuals in the cathedral to ensure they had not overheard. 

“Are you out of your mind?” you hiss. “Venti, we’re going to get arrested.”

“Not if we don’t get caught,” he assures, winking.

“We’re definitely going to get caught. Just look at Paimon. Do you think she can be sneaky?”

You both turn to look at your small fey friend floating beside you.

“That’s true,” Venti says.

“Hey!” she whines.

“How are we even going to sneak in? There are guards stationed at the only entrance.”

The three of you eye the two men standing on either side of the slightly ajar door beneath the chancel. 

Venti sighs. “I was just about to explain. Those guards are off-duty at nightfall. If we wait until after sunset, you can sneak in. Then, all you have to do to steal the lyre is avoid the people inside.”

“‘We’.”

“Huh?”

“You said ‘you’,” you correct, “but you meant ‘we’. We would have to sneak in and avoid the people inside.”

“Oh no,” he replies, waving his hands in front of him, “just you and maybe Paimon. I’m not going in.” 

“What?” Your jaw drops. You suddenly grab him by his collar and give him several shakes for good measure. “This is your plan and you’re trying to get me to steal the lyre?”

“Hey, it’s a one-person job. Two people will just make it more difficult. Plus, as the Knights of Favonius’ new superstar, you’re more likely to get away with it than I am.” He has a point, but you do not admit that aloud.

“Can’t we just get those signed documents from the Grand Master, Seneschal, and Community Representative?” inquires Paimon.

“I’m afraid we don’t have time for that.”

Stealing the Holy Lyre der Himmel might be the worst idea you have ever heard during your time in Teyvat, but as you stare at the bard, it seems like your only option. You and Paimon share a look. Paimon shrugs. 

“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll meet you back here at nightfall.” 

❅

“You’re sure he’s serious about stealing the Holy Lyre?” asks Paimon, gliding beside you as you begin your return journey to the cathedral.

“He literally revealed to us that he’s Barbatos, Paimon,” you reply. “Considering his relationship with Dvalin, if he says it’s the only way, it is the only way.”

You had left the cathedral and burned the remaining hours of daylight visiting the stores around Mondstadt, the city you had arrived at not so long ago. Before you knew it, the comforting concatenation of sunset hues had rolled its way across the sky and painted a striking blue-orange ombre. 

Noticing this, Paimon nudges you. “It’s nearly nighttime. We should start making our way back to the cathedral if we’re gonna help Venti.”

“Right.” You still have yet to fully commit to stealing the Lyre, and the time for your final decision was approaching quickly. You begin to speak before glimpsing behind her a figure clad in blue coming your way. “I have to do something first. Can you start ahead?” 

Paimon fidgets and looks at you, unsure. 

“I’ll catch up, okay?”

“Alright. Don’t be late, though,” she acquiesces.

As she glides away, you approach the figure. 

“Hey, Kaeya,” you call out to him.

“Well if it isn’t our dear Traveler,” the man waves, striding up to you. “I was actually on my way to Angel’s Share. Care to join?”

“I appreciate your offer, but actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

Kaeya pauses, regarding you with new interest. “No problem. Ask away.”

“If you had the chance to help a lot of people—and even save lives—but the means to do so wasn’t exactly lawful, would you still do it?”

The Cavalry Captain considers. 

“Interesting question,” he muses as he brings a gloved hand up to his chin and levels a contemplative gaze at the ground, his smile dissolving into a more serious expression. “Justice is not an absolute principle but is the result of striking that fine balance between strength and strategy. As for the details of how it's done, don't worry yourself too much about that,” he responds. 

You are silent. Some moments pass as you appraise him, and you are surprised to sense his sincerity. 

Upon observing your quiet awe, Kaeya spreads out his hands and smiles. “Or at least, that’s what I once said to Grand Master Varka.”

You nod slowly. “That makes sense. So long as the end result is good, whether the method is legal or illegal makes no difference.”

“I mean...”

Suddenly, Paimon swoops in front of you, frazzled and panting slightly. “Hey, are you coming or not? The sun’s already gone down. We’re late!”

You finally register the change in lighting, the now indigo-shaded surroundings lit by the warm glow of streetlamps. Startled by the unexpected darkness of the sky, you snap out of your thoughtful reverie.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go now,” you apologize to Kaeya hurriedly.

He nods. “No worries. Let’s catch up later, yeah?”

You voice a word of hasty agreement as Paimon directs you in the direction of the cathedral. You begin to jog away but stop. “Thanks, Kaeya!” You call, tossing him a backward glance and giving a salute. “Off to commit high treason!”

Kaeya cracks a fond smile, watching you run off. Then realization abruptly hits. “Wait what?”