beardrabbles

[beardrabbles]

Please imagine Levi dangling from something with his tail and doing the upside down Spider-Man kiss with you / MC / your OC.

[beardrabbles]

After failing to answer the questions Solomon had given him, it occurs to him that if he didn’t know one of his oldest pact-holders as well as he claimed, then there’s every chance he didn’t know you — and he can’t have that.

He finds you, corners you in your room, desperately pleas for you to play along. Just ask him these three questions about yourself, and he’ll answer them all! ( He has to. You’re his special person, the one that doesn’t make him feel shallow and hollow and without a purpose. He can’t get these wrong. )

You do as he asks because you love him, but the silliness of the little quiz begins to ebb away. You’re left with a small, disappointed ache because he didn’t answer any of the three questions right despite you being confident that your preferences were obvious. It’s strange, being hit with the realization that he might not be paying attention to you.

He panics, seeing the light in your gorgeous eyes dwindling.

No, no! Don’t give him that look. He can do this. Ask him another one!

No, you don’t want to play this game anymore. You want to be left alone.

He won’t accept that. He begs, taking your hands into his. He can do this, he swears! Ask him one more question! You refuse and attempt to guide him towards the door, and that’s when it comes tumbling out of perfectly painted lips.

Your favorite color and its exact shade. Your favorite food and how you like it prepared. Your least favorite scent and the reason why. He knows you, he swears! He knows which side of the bed you lay on, he knows the type of weather you’re most fond of and the type of material you like when it comes to clothes.

He knows you, and he knows that it hurts to see you looking so despondent. It’s his fault, and he hates it.

You’ve watched him shed crocodile tears before, but this was different. The way he takes your hands and places them on his cheeks as the the corners of his eyes grow damp tells you that the pained crack in his voice as he rambles is genuine.

You’re his darling, his dearest, his truest love. He tells you this, and you believe him. Oh, Asmo. So silly and precious and confused. You aren’t the most knowledgeable about pacts, but you’re positive that having one doesn’t grant a demon every morsel of knowledge a person has to offer.

We’ll learn, you tell him. We’ve got time.

And with that time, you’ll find something new to appreciate. For as much as he wanted it to be, love wasn’t a hard and all-knowing boom. Love is learning and getting excited about a new, wonderous fact. Love is asking questions. Love lasts, it stretches and it grows like a person.

He’ll learn, you’re sure of this.

[beardrabbles]

sweet sea shanty.

characters: GN!reader, leviathan

warnings: self-depreciating thoughts from leviathan

word count: 2,370

notes: based around the entirely baseless thought that, at some point, some of the brothers took to the human realm during the pirate era. i really can't NOT imagine mammon being a pirate for the sake of treasure and leviathan cutting loose for a short while as a full-on sea-monster. it's silly, but i like the idea. also, dang, it got long.

He was in the middle of a low level raid when he heard it — a familiar melody and equally familiar words, carried on the softest and sweetest of voices. How the voice managed to eek through his noise-cancelling headphones was beyond him, but he knew for an absolute fact that he hadn’t imagined it. Hands frozen over his mouse and keyboard, Leviathan listened.

   ❛ He skims the waves of blue and grey      Golden eyes in search of prey      But when he hears their desperate pleas      It keeps the beast at bay ❜

“You good?” There was another voice, this one louder and clearer. His guildmates weren’t impatient, but it was obvious by the way his character abruptly stopped moving that something had happened. Their always diligent, always present co-captain never took pause in the middle of a battle, no matter how over-leveled they were.

“I.  .  .”

“Why’d we stop?”

“Did he leave?”

“No, dumbass. Didn’t you hear him just hear him talk?”

“Bro, you good?”

It was the usual chattering amongst friends, but it came across as nothing more than background noise as the song that toyed with his ears continued to tug mercilessly at his attention. Try as he might, with hands pressed to his headphones and eyes squeezed shut, Leviathan couldn’t shove the melody aside. Soft. So soft and sweet and — damn — why did he feel in the deepest parts of his heart that he had heard it before?!

   ❛ Most would sing of their fear and spite      That scaly beast the sweet sea’s blight      But when he hears them sigh his name      He’s met with pure delight

     Leviathan, Leviathan      Come and claim your prize

     Leviathan, Leviathan      I won’t believe their lies ❜

The sound of his name was his doom. It sent a shiver down his spine and heat into his cheeks, the need to find the source compelling him to toss his headphones aside.

“BRB, I got — uh — stuff. Don’t finish the raid without me!” He pushed away from his desk and scrambled from his room, the hallway eerily quiet. He glanced from one end to the other, brow crinkling with mild annoyance. “I know I heard it.”

It came again, the sound of his name. Without his headphones to muffle the voice, it turned his temporary shiver into a persistent tremble. But now he knew where it came from, head snapping in the direction of the kitchen. Wasting no time, he stalked down the hall to confront the one that nagged at his sense of nostalgia — until he reached the door and realized with a start that it was your voice that called to him.

The door was opened a crack, a single amber eye peeking in through the gap. There you stood, a mop in hand and a bucket of soapy water at your feet. No one understood why you chose to manually tackle the chores, but neither did they try to stop you after you insisted that this was the way it had always been.

With every push and pull of the mop across the stones came another lyric, your gentle back-and-forth matching the steady rhythm of the sea shanty you sang.

   ❛ Leviathan, Leviathan      Come and claim your prize      Leviathan, Leviathan      I won’t believe their lies ❜

‘ But everyone else did.  .  . ’ That’s right, he remembered now.

His time at sea had been a short one, though he supposed a few hundred years was a lifetime to a human. It had been during the height of an era, when piracy ran rampant. The creaky old ships, the sailors that smelled of sweat and booze and salt, and the tempting taste of a soul lost at sea — now that he had been given those memories, he could recall it all with startling clarity.

But there had been one ship in particular that intrigued him.

No, it wasn’t the ship, he reminded himself. It was a person. A kind, thoughtful person that hadn’t allowed their opinions to be swayed by others. The stories they heard about a demonic sea-creature were true, but they had been adamant in their theories. They had claimed him merciful and caring, if a little misunderstood.

How naïve, defending a demon they hardly knew.

But they persisted, believing that they were the one capable of teaching the world that the one they called Leviathan wasn’t the heartless monster they claimed him to be. Their beliefs were baseless, as he had taken a staggering amount of souls during that time, but it was their unshakable faith in him and the song they weaved in his name that had drawn him out of the water and onto the ship where he met them.

‘ They liked me. I think. Maybe. I don’t know. ’ Always doubting, always weighed down by his insecurities. ‘ If you know that song, does that mean.  .  . ? ’

“Levi?” You had turned then to find him peeking, the unmistakable color if his eyes and the warm red of his cheeks giving away that it was the third-born hiding behind the door. He squawked indignantly, the door slamming shut. You propped your weight against the handle of the mop, eyes staring curiously at the wood. “I know you’re still there.”

“No, you don’t!” Then a quiet, “dammit.”

You snickered to yourself as the door swung open again. “Hey.”

“H—Hey.” His voice was low and quiet, eyes cast down to the floor. He fidgeted where he stood, his many attempts to speak putting a deeper and darker shade of red into his face. You were ready to wait, knowing that no good ever came from rushing him, but a thought dawned on you.

“Wait, weren’t you in the middle of a game?” You frowned, knowing that it was nearly impossible to drag Leviathan away once he started a raid.

“I was, but you——!!” He sucked in a breath, ready to rant, when he was struck silent with embarrassment.

“Me? What did I do? I’m cleaning!” Your frown grew more severe.

“You were singing! You tell me you’re not a normie, but you do all these cute, normie things, like singing when you clean. Who even does that?!” He was able to brings his eyes up towards you, but only to scowl.

“You heard me?” It was your turn to become flushed. You weren’t a loud or obnoxious singer. In fact, you kept your voice as soft as possible, not wanting to humiliate yourself in front of the demons that shared their home with you. “But I tried to be quiet.  .  .”

“I could hear it from my room.” He grunted as he shoved both hands into the pockets of his hooded sweater. “Where did you even learn that song?”

“Family.” You shrugged and discreetly snatched up the chance to route the conversation away from your embarrassment. “I think. Everyone says it was passed down from one generation to the next, but I can’t be sure that’s true. I’ve always liked it, so I sing it when I’m working. Why?”

He stared hard for a solid minute before it finally clicked.

“Oh!” You gasped and brought a hand up to your mouth. “No! Are you serious?”

“Do you know anyone else named Leviathan? lmao Did doing chores make your brain smooth?” His expression lightened up then, but yours continued to drop. He was adorable when he laughed, even if it was at your expense, but you felt a mite dumb for having not realized sooner that a song you’d clung to for so long was meant for him.

“I’m sorry, Levi. I won’t sing it again.” You assumed the worst: that it was meant only to be sung by your ancestor, or that he hated the song despite the meaning behind it. You would resist the urge no matter how strong it was because you cared for him.

“What?” His amusement died away in an instant. “W—Why not?”

“Well, didn’t it mean something to them? The one that sang it, I mean. My family always told me it was because they were fond of you.” You ran your fingernail over a chip in the wooden handle of the mop and diverted your gaze elsewhere. “Were you two, y’know.  .  . a thing?”

Leviathan didn’t think it was possible for his cheeks to burn hotter than they already did, yet he felt himself grow overheated and clammy at the mention of a relationship. “Ahahaa!! N—No! Seriously, you think I’m capable of something like that? Hah! P—Please, not a chance. Like I’d get invested in a human!”

“Oh.” Was that disappointment you felt? What a nasty, painful feeling. “Right, I shouldn’t have even asked. The Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy and the legendary Leviathan, the beast that would swallow ships whole, would never give a lowly human the time of day.” You shot him a pointed glance before returning to your work — only, this time, there was a slump in your shoulders and a distinct lack of your voice.

Leviathan stood there with his mouth agape, like a beached fish, unsure of how to best process your sharp tone and the abrupt lack of warmth in the room. He wanted to hear you sing the song if it meant hearing you say his name the way you had, all caring and kind and unafraid. No one had called to him in such a way in so long that he had forgotten what it was like to have someone that didn’t find him repulsive. But was it merely you losing yourself in the song, or had your heart truly cradled those words?

“W—Wait, can — can you sing it again?” He tried to mumble the words together and hoped you wouldn’t hear, but the way you turned gave away that you had. Leviathan flinched at your undivided attention, his own eyes focused on the long fingers he wrung together. “I d—don’t mind if you do.”

“Really? But——!”

“Don’t make me say it again!” Whined the otaku as he inched closer. The lower half of his face was hidden behind the baggy sleeves he bunched in his shaking hands, but it did nothing to mask his pink cheeks. “Just — sing it! Please.”

You didn’t take a single step forward, letting him meet you beside the kitchen island. With your weight still supported by the mop, you dared to lean forward the slightest bit. “Which part?”

You watched the color in his cheeks double in intensity, his refusal to make eye contact still as endearing as ever. “D—Do I gotta say?”

“I won’t know if you don’t.” You pointed out softly, encouragingly. Leviathan let out a huff, then — in a small fit of courage — finally let his attention fall on you.

“The part with my name.  .  .”

You were unable to help yourself. An amused giggle tumbled free from your lips long before you could think to catch it. You wanted to tease, and it would have been so easy, but he was clearly melting away into a puddle of pure anxiety and awkwardness in front of you. If you weren’t careful, you’d lose him for good.

“Leviathan~ Leviathan~” You feel into comfortable practice with the lyric, your voice wrapped tenderly around each and every syllable. But with each utterance of his name, poor Leviathan was struck with a shiver that wracked his entire body. You stood there before him, radiant and so willing to appease him. He could vividly picture you standing at the very front of a majestic ship, hands clasped against your chest and heart bleeding your every feeling into the unforgiving ocean in the hopes that it might lure him in. “Come and claim your prize~”

Could he? He couldn’t.  .  .

You were a feeble, silly, precious, darling, treasured human, and he was nothing more than a cesspool of sin and loathing. He was dripping nausea and you were a bright, healing light, one step below a real angel.

“Leviathan~ Leviathan~” Another shiver shocked down his spine, this one prompting his truest form to slither out from behind his glamor. Horns of branching coral, accented with thin, shimmering streaks of royal purple, curled away from his lavender hair. The scales of his long tail slid against the stone of the floor, the tip of it lingering apprehensively near the tips of your feet. “I won’t believe their lies~”

They were simple words, but the impact was similar to a decisive punch to the gut. But before he could stop himself, he asked, “why not?”

You opened your mouth, but no sound escaped. Brow furrowed, you took a moment to consider your words carefully. Then and only then did you grace him with a smile.

“Because I know you, and I like you. I don’t care what anyone has to say about you. I think you’re amazing, and nothing will change that!” You confidence was staggering even to yourself, but you meant every word. Somewhere, deep inside the cold of Leviathan’s heart, he felt fondness bloom. It had always been there, but he had been hesitant to let it grow. Damn you for making it so effortless.

“You c—can’t mean that! You can’t if it’s so easy for you to say it, like you don’t even have to think about it.” Yet he holed in on himself, body shrinking inward but demonic features remaining prominent.

“I don’t have to think about it. I just know it. And I do mean it. Whether or not you believe me, it doesn’t matter. I feel how I feel, so get used to it.” You huffed and made to return to your work, but the presence of something solid and thick around your ankle made you reconsider. His tail, loose but clearly wrapped around your leg, begged for you to remain where you were.

You raised an eyebrow and glanced to Leviathan again. He shrugged, a hand rubbing at the side of his neck.

“I’m in the middle of a raid, but do you think you could come to my r—room and sing it one more time? I just don’t want anyone coming in here and hearing you singing my name like that! Don’t make it weird, okay?!”

You sighed through your nose, but your lips were quirked upwards affectionately. “I’d love to.”

[beardrabbles]

                                    obey me masterlist

◎ — platonic // ◉ — romantic // ✘ — nsfw

｢ LUCIFER ｣

none, yet!

｢ MAMMON ｣

silence ◉

｢ LEVIATHAN ｣

sweet sea shanty ◉ /  ◎

｢ SATAN ｣

none, yet!

｢ ASMODEUS ｣

he knows you  ◉ /  ◎

｢ BEELZEBUB ｣

none, yet!

｢ BELPHEGOR ｣

none, yet!

｢ DIAVOLO ｣

none, yet!

｢ BARBATOS ｣

none, yet!

｢ SIMEON ｣

none, yet!

｢ LUKE ( platonic only ) ｣

none, yet!

｢ SOLOMON ｣

none, yet!

｢ OTHER ｣

none, yet!

[beardrabbles]

silence.

characters: GN!reader, mammon

warnings: like.  .  . one curse word

word count: 1,157

notes: oh, hey, another new fandom! :D this has probably been done before, but i’m weak as all heck for mammon. this is incredibly self-indulgent. i rarely write for myself, but one of his home screen lines made me wonder ‘cause i’m a quiet person, even on the phone.

‘ Ya know how sometimes you're on the phone with someone, and suddenly it goes quiet? I hate that. ’

You weren’t sure why at first, but you’d fixated on that off-hand comment the moment it reached your ears. Mammon was a notorious complainer, griping about anything and everything if it meant getting a speck of attention from you or his brothers. While you had learned during your time in the Devildom that it was best to acknowledge his grievances but never take them to heart, this one stuck with you — wasn’t until you’d thought about it over and over again that you realized why.

Whether you intended for it or not, you were not a noisy person. Not only were you soft-spoken, but you rarely spoke if the situation didn’t require you to. Peaceful moments of pure quiet were your forte, which made communicating with Mammon a challenge at times. His mind and mouth were always trying to outrace each other, but you tried to keep up. You wanted to keep up.

You sat against your headboard, DDD trapped between your ear and shoulder and fingers picking nervously at the fluff on the pillow you were hugging. Only a few moments ago, you had eagerly listened to his newest scheme, humming here and there to let him know you were taking in his every word. You always did. His voice, coupled with the enthusiasm behind it, was mesmerizing. You were capable of resisting a demon’s charms, but you weren’t immune to just how brightly his entire being glowed when inspiration struck him.

So when you found yourself met with the same silence during a late night call, you wondered if his patience had finally worn thin.

“Mammon.  .  . ?”

“Mm?”

“Are you alright?” You chewed at your lip, little and irregular spikes of anxiety making your chest tingle unpleasantly.

“I’m doin’ great! This plan is foolproof. Come tomorrow, we’ll be rollin’ in grimm!” He didn’t lack enthusiasm, but the sudden silence from seconds ago still bothered you. “Why are ya askin’?”

“No reason!” You paused, hesitated around the lie, then let out a miniscule grunt. “I mean, you got really quiet. You were all excited, then you stopped talking.”

Mammon huffed on the other end of the call. “So? I don’t see what the big deal is.”

You shifted in bed, face half-buried in your pillow. “It’s just.  .  .”

“Just what? Come on, spit it out, will ya?”

“You said before that you hate when it gets quiet on the phone! I know I don’t talk a lot, and it gets annoying. I thought because you were quiet now that you were getting irritated with me.” You swapped your phone from one shoulder to the other, the hot screen pressed to your even hotter cheek.

“You remembered I said that?” Came the demon’s small, mumbled response. It wasn’t the reply you expected, but it was a question you could easily answer.

“Of course I did!”

“And that’s what ya’ve been worryin’ about the whole time we’ve been talkin’?”

“Y—Yes?” You chewed at your lip, concern still sitting like a heavy, lead ball in your chest.

“You’re dumb, y’know that?” A sharp bark of laughter on the other end of the call made you flinch. Normally, his laughter was a comfort, but the sound of it and his words made you feel worse. You sunk into your bed, eyes growing downcast.

“Gee, thanks, Mams. Glad to know I can be open and honest about how I’m feeling with you.”

“Wait, I didn’t——! I didn’t mean it like that!” From his end, there came a muffled but rapid string of curses and muttering. You thought you caught a vague ‘ idiot! ’ somewhere in there, but it was hard to tell. “I just meant that ya don’t gotta worry about dumb stuff like that. I know what I said, but.  .  .”

It was your turn to push now. “But what?”

“I dunno,” grumbled Mammon bashfully, “I guess I don’t mind when you’re quiet. I know you’re listenin’ to me, even if ya don’t say much. And I —  Ilikejustsittinghereandlisteningtoyabreathecauseitmeansyou’resafeandhereandrealandIcanpretendyou’remineforalittlewhilebutitwouldbecreepyashellt’saythat.”

“Woah, Mammon. Slow down, I didn’t catch any of that.”

“That was the point.” Mammon sighed. “Do I really gotta repeat myself?”

“Please?” You knew it was never wise to beg around the Avatar of Greed, but just this once you didn’t care.

“.  .  . If I say this, ya can’t use it against me! And I ain’t gonna repeat myself!”

“I know.”

“Ya promise ya won’t laugh?”

“I promise a hundred times over.”

Mammon sighed, and you could feel him preparing himself. When he spoke next, his voice was small and honest, and the sound of it alone made your heart skip. “It ain’t ever bothered me that ya get quiet. I like just sittin’ here an’ knowin’ you’re there. Even if ya don’t say much, I know ya ain’t ignorin’ me like my brothers do. On the phone or when we’re sittin’ t’gether, don’t matter. Just.  .  . makes me real happy t’think ya might be comfortable enough t’be yaself around me. I know my mouth runs a mile’a minute sometimes, but ya’ve never once made me feel bad about it. I like this.”

“I like it too.” You weren’t sure how you managed to speak around the lump in your throat, but the words squeaked past. “And I’m never gonna make you feel bad for talking a lot. I want to listen.”

“I know ya do. And I wanna listen too, I swear! O—Only ‘cause I’m provin’ how thoughtful I can be! S’just, sometimes I get goin’ and——!”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. If you wanna talk, talk. But.  .  .”

“Hmm?”

“My phone’s getting kind of hot. Do.  .  .” You trailed off, nerves getting the better of you again.

“I’m all ears, treasure.” The nickname was new and had caught you off guard the first time, and it still proved to knot your stomach when you heard it every time after that.

“Do you mind if I come be quiet in your room for a bit?”

“Ya know I don’t mind. Oh, but ya know that new series ya said ya wanted t’binge watch?”

You were in the process of grabbing your charger from the wall when the seemingly random question caught you. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Ya don’t get here in five minutes, I’m startin’ it without ya!” You could hear his toothy grin and knew for an absolute fact that he relished in making you rush, especially when the line died and gave you no room to argue. Quiet you may be, but you weren’t above muttering a curse when the situation called for it.

“Ass.  .  .” Yet you said it with a fondness meant only for him. He could be an ass, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

[beardrabbles]

                                  fire emblem masterlist

◎ — platonic // ◉ — romantic // ✘ — nsfw

｢ CLAUDE VON RIEGAN ｣

invitation ◉

[beardrabbles]

invitation.

characters: GN!reader, claude, mentions of GN!byleth

warnings: none

word count: 2,814

notes: posted this on ao3 ages ago and totally forgot to post it here too :’) got into the fandom late, like alwaaaays! but i have an enormous claude / golden deer bias and wanted to write some fluff with him.

You forgot sometimes that this peaceful spot tucked between the trees wasn’t yours alone. You shared it with another from time to time, but it had been so long since the last time you both stepped foot in the clearing that it startled you to hear footfalls crunching at the grass behind you. Pushing yourself up halfway, eyes blinking blearily, you spotted the richly dressed prince with his hands planted on his hips.

“Napping without me?” Claude clicked his tongue, and you quickly replied with a roll of your eyes.

“I can’t nap here on my own?” You fell back again, letting the soft grass cushion you. A soft, content sigh escaped through your nose as the sweetest of breezes barely brushed your skin. It smelled of flowers and damp leaves, dense soil and a distant storm. There was no zing of hot iron or blood, and it was a relief.

“I thought it was our thing.  .  .”

You felt him sit beside you, taking up his usual position to your left. The tiniest flutter tickled the inside of your ribs, his nearness nearly making your head spin. “Before I came along, it was just your thing, remember?”

“Well, yeah, but I like it better this way.” Claude leaned back on his hands, eyes up towards the greying sky. It had taken fighting a war to bring back their usual glimmer, but it was there in full. Bright, hopeful, determined. Laying there, gazing up at the unsuspecting prince, it was almost as if you were looking at the man from five years ago — the cunning, clever and sometimes troublesome man that you had fallen head-over-heels for and had continued to painfully pine for.

“Me too.” You dared to smile, his gaze shifting to you. Adoring him hurt, but no amount of hurt would have you appreciating his presence any less.

Claude returned the smile, and the gesture sent your heart slamming against your chest. But just as quickly as it came, the smile faded. “I spoke to Byleth.”

You sat up in an instant, concern etched into your face. You were aware that he had gone to meet them, but he had failed to tell you why. You equally failed to push the subject, as it wasn’t your place to disrespect a man in his position. Curious as you might have been, you assumed it was best not to ask and only hope that he trusted you enough to confide in you later. Seemed you were right, though you acknowledged to yourself that it was a rare thing.

“How did it go?”

“They’re disappointed I won’t be here for the coronation. I can’t blame them. After everything we’ve been through together, I should be here for them. I want to hope they understands. They always have.” He exhaled sharply. “But, hey, I got to see them smile again! I think as long as they’re here, Fódlan will be in good hands. If they keeps smiling, if they keep breaking down the walls that were built up, I can go home and do my part there. I trust them.”

You shifted, feeling uncomfortable in your envy.

“So they’re not coming with you to Almyra?” You wondered. Claude shook his head.

“No, and I didn’t want to ask. Fódlan needs to be taken care of. It needs a parent that will hold its hand and lead it in the right direction. It’s gonna stumble around like an infant walking for the first time, but that’s why they’re the best person to lead. They’ll know what to say and do to help this little baby along.”

You screwed up your face and nudged him with your shoulder.

“You really like talking about babies.” You pointed out. Claude’s cheeks and the tips of his ears darkened a fraction, but he dismissed it with a hearty chuckle.

“I guess I do. I wonder why that is.” He trailed off, voice soft but nowhere near as confused as his words would have lead you to believe. You had long ago resigned yourself to never truly understanding him, so you shrugged. Trying to pick through his mind was like attempting a hedge maze without a map.

“Does that mean you’re going to be heading back soon?”

“I can’t stay for long. There’s so much I need to do if I’m going to see things through, but there’s something important I need to do here before I can go home.” There was sharpness to his eyes that you recognized and deeply adored. He was planning something, and you felt your curiosity rise again.

“What is it? Can I help?” You were always so quick to offer him aid. Usually, he gently denied it, stating time and time again that most of his schemes were for his mind alone. Things often worked out for the better that way. The fewer people that knew, the less chance they could commandeer the plan or ruin it. Yet you still asked just in case he needed you.

“Maybe. Before that, can I ask you something?”

You frowned. “Of course. You can ask me anything, you know that.”

“You’ve been saying that since we met. Is it really true?” Claude smirked and raised a single brow, only for you to shove him harmlessly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” You eyed him for a moment, worry mounting. “Was that what you wanted to ask me?”

The prince shook his head, as if he were getting off track. “No. I wanted to know where you plan to go. What are your plans for the future?”

“Oh! Oh.” You frowned when the sudden realization that you had no plans slammed into you. “I don’t.  .  . know. I haven’t thought about it. I’ve been so busy supporting everyone else, doing what I can for them, that I don’t know what to do with myself. Everyone’s grown up. They’re all doing their own thing, starting their own lives. No one needs me anymore.”

“That’s not true.” Claude’s voice was firm in your ear, and his expression was set to match. You smiled meekly.

“I grew up with all of you, but it felt like my purpose was to help you all find yours. Not that I really think I’m capable of being that helpful, but I never took the time to think about myself. I was too worried about you all reaching your dreams that I didn’t have one. I don’t have one.” You amended the last part quickly because it was blatantly clear to you that you had no direction to go in.

“There has to be something you want.” Claude pushed. You laughed.

“At the risk of repeating myself, I want what you want. I want you to succeed.” You opened your mouth again, but were quick to clamp them shut when another thought arose. I want to be with you.

It was lovely to imagine, but you had lived with the fact that any future with him was left solely to your imagination. You met him as an heir, and you knew him now as a prince. The differences in your status was vast and hard to ignore. Claude had his mind set on making those differences unimportant, but you doubted that he could find room in his heart for you. He had a country to take care of and love, not to mention you two had been friends since the start of your time at the academy. Too much time had passed since then, and while your feelings had grown deeper and more troublesome, you were sure he had none to begin with. No, as students, he had been too preoccupied with tormenting you. Teasing, poking, taking up your time with nonsense and rarely giving you a moment to yourself.

Despite him being a brat at times, you loved him. And even if he didn’t reciprocate, you were grateful to have known him at all.

“So you’re not bound to Fódlan?” His voice shook you from your thoughts.

“What?”

“Do you have any obligations here in Fódlan?” His gaze was so intently set on you that it made you squirm, the feeling ten times worse since coming out of your own head.

“No, not that I can think of.” You couldn’t recall making any promises.

“Right, so you could leave.” Claude hummed thoughtfully and got to his feet. Once upright, he dusted the grass from his clothes and offered you a hand. Confused, you took it and let him pull you into standing.

“I guess I could, but where would I even go? I don’t know anyone outside of Fódlan.” You felt something subtle was being said, you couldn’t catch on. Some days, you could. You had learned him just as he had learned you, but he was always several steps ahead. You could read him, but only the pages he allowed you to see. In this case, the pages were written on, but only in bits and pieces.

Claude gave you a pointed stare and a gentle, encouraging squeeze to your hand. When you failed to understand, he raised both eyebrows and pointed to himself. No words were needed. His gestures and odd line of questioning were like a clarifying slap to the face. You reeled, giving him a wide-eyed stare while sputtering idiotically.

“Wh——”

“That took you while. I was starting to worry I’d have to spell it out for you.” Claude put on a convincing pout. “Unless this is your weird way of telling me you don’t want to come with me.”

“No!” You leaped too soon, your eagerness prompting a smirk on the prince’s face. You fell silent again, worried that saying anything more might reveal all of what you had been trying to hide for over five years. “I’m not saying that.”

“What are you saying?” He purred cunningly, hand still holding tightly to yours. You didn’t resist when he to eased you closer, your heart screaming in your chest. Cheeks red and breaths shallow, you could hardly think. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

I’m still napping, and this is just another stupid dream.

You swallowed hard and peered up at him. “I think I should be asking you that, Mr. Vague.”

“Ah-ah,” chided the cheeky man, “you’ll have to address me as Prince Vague now.”

You scoffed and gave him another shove. When your hand pressed to his shoulder, he trapped it there with his own. Even closer now, Claude lowered his head until your noses nearly touched. You sucked in a breath and found yourself unable to move away, attention trapped in his bright, beautiful eyes.

“You want to know what I’m asking you?” He lowered his voice, tone growing tender and warm. You nodded. “I’m asking if you’ll come home with me. I want you to meet my parents and my people, and I want them to meet you. I want them to love you as much as——”

He choked for a moment, a rare flicker of pure emotion startling him.

“As much as what?” You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but he was making it incredibly difficult not to.

Claude calmed himself with a shaky breath and tilted his chin down, lips barely ghosting the curve of your cheek. His eyes fluttered half closed, while a single lock of his dark hair tickled at your cheek. When you didn’t shy away, he spoke again in honeyed tones. “I want them to love you as much as I do.”

“You can’t mean that.” Your entire being felt numb with glee, but you couldn’t process his confession without a little doubt. He met your doubt with a chuckle, so you persisted. “Why me?”

“Why not you?” He nuzzled into your cheek, and you felt the compulsion to reach up and thread your fingers through his hair. You had done so many times before, letting the gentle touches calm him during his bad days, but there was new meaning behind it now. There was an honest love behind it as your dragged your fingers through the strands, pushing them back and away from his darling face.

“There were so many others.  .  .” So many people wanted his attention, his affection. You were but one in a thousand that longed for him.

“I didn’t care. I dreamed of many futures, and all of the best ones had you standing there beside me.” He muttered into you, the softest of kisses resting just under your eye.

“We argued so much.” You shuddered, warmth blooming in your cheeks.

“You kept me grounded. How can anyone expect to be a decent ruler if they’re always agreed with?” He countered. You huffed and tried to think of another argument.

“You used to tease me all the time.” You muttered.

“I’ll admit that was dumb of me, but it felt like the only way to get your attention.” His lips found the tip of your nose, and you couldn’t contain a snicker. “You looked so cute when you were embarrassed, especially when you wrinkled your nose. I couldn’t help it.”

“Why do I feel like you still can’t help it?” You tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear and let your fingers follow the path of his facial hair. He was putty in your hands, cheek pressing to your hand.

“It’s part of my charm.” Claude flashed his usual smile, then took a step back. The lack of closeness left you feeling a little colder, but the distance let you appreciate him fully. Tall, handsome, commanding. You were exceedingly proud of him, and you felt yourself falling for him all over again. But before you could think to speak, he started again. “You don’t have to answer me right away. I know this a lot to ask of you, so I want to give you the time you need. I’m leaving in two days. Meet me at the——”

You didn’t allow him to finish. Your heart was too full and on the verge of bursting, and it seemed silly to you that he didn’t know what your answer would be when he was so skilled at predicting you. Rather than let him wonder, you removed your hands from his and took his face between them. You gathered your courage, mustered with his help, and pulled him down for a soft but silencing kiss.

Claude wasn’t often rendered speechless, but he supposed he didn’t mind being put in his place if it meant your lips fitting against his as perfectly as they did. Unfortunately for him and the heat radiating throughout him, you didn’t let the kiss last long. He wanted to wrap you in his arms and crush you against his chest like he’d long to for years, but you parted from him too soon for his liking.

“Where are you going?” He took chase, but you placed your hand over his mouth. Claude stilled and arched a brow.

“I’ve had my answer for years, Claude. I’m with you in every possible way. But if I ask you a question, will you answer me honestly?” You uncovered his mouth, but his silence told you more than words would. “How long have you, uh.  .  .”

“Cared for you? Admired you? Wanted to kiss you the way you just kissed me?” Every question he posed in response to yours made your heart thud and your cheeks burn. “A long, long time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I was never given the chance.” He answered so surely that you wondered if he had those words prepared. You couldn’t pester him about it — too many things had gone horribly wrong during your time at the academy, and it didn’t make sense to plant seeds in dead soil. There would have been no guarantee that it would bloom and flourish, but with the land starting a slow recovery, you hoped that what you two started here would become lusher and more far-reaching than any forest in Fódlan.

“It’s alright.” You giggled giddily and granted him another kiss, this one to the corner of his lips. “We were given our chance, and you took it.”

“Does that mean you’re going home with me?” He asked.

“I told you——”

“I want to hear you say the words.” Claude softly pleaded. Weak for his doe eyes, you melted in his arms and relented.

“I’m going home with you, Claude. I want to meet your parents, and I want to get to know your people. And for as long as I’m there, for as long as you’ll have me, I want to get to know you better.”

A soft sigh tinged with relief escaped the man as his head came to rest on your shoulder. His grasp on you tightened, and you felt his heart beat against your chest.

“Thank you.”

You smiled and embraced him. “Don’t thank me. Just take me home.  .  .”

[beardrabbles]

                                        dragon age masterlist

◎ — platonic // ◉ — romantic // ✘ — nsfw

｢ CULLEN RUTHERFORD  ｣

flustered  ◉

[beardrabbles]

                                         mcu masterlist

◎ — platonic // ◉ — romantic // ✘ — nsfw

｢ SCOTT LANG  ｣

two years ( series ) ◉

worried  ◎ /  ◉

｢ TONY STARK  ｣

oblivious ◉

｢ THOR  ｣

adviser ◉

｢ LOKI  ｣

muse ◎ /  ◉

envy ◉

｢ PETER PARKER  ｣

hush-hush ◉

thin ice  ◉

｢ STEPHEN STRANGE  ｣

fear ◎ /  ◉

[beardrabbles]

rock solid bonds.       pt. two

characters: zhongli, female reader, gimel ( geo hypostasis )

warnings: none

word count: 2,520

notes: well, this took me too dang long to get to! got caught up writing other things, but i hope it was worth the wait. i’m fleshing out a plot for this along the way, and i’m hoping it makes sense in the end! but for now it’s just fluff. lottsa fluff and semi-slow burn. thank you for reading!! you’re a treasure.

Even if you hadn’t arrived at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor the night before and formally signed your name on the contract Zhongli had meticulously drawn out, you would have kept to your word and arrived at Gimel’s island the next morning as promised. You had little with you, since you were reminded with a rather stony voice that this was meant to be an exercise in understanding and not an opportunity for battle. All you had in your little bag was a tightly wrapped lunch, a book and another vial of the concoction you had brought the day before — just in case.

No weapons. No hostilities.

You felt odd keeping your hulking claymore out of sight, but it was for the best. You weren’t looking to actively sabotage yourself, after all, and the arrangement wasn’t an awful one. All Zhongli had asked of you was to be civil towards the hypostasis and to sincerely make up for the damage you had caused. No matter how unintentional it had been, you knew it was right thing to do.

“Gimel?” You had considered hiding behind one of the walls and calling out, but concealing yourself now seemed like a silly idea. Although, calling out the element’s name to the open air felt just as silly.

The ‘ arena ’ was empty, the domineering shadows of the surrounding outcroppings shifting away as the sun rose higher over the horizon. You couldn’t feel the usual vibrations through your feet, and that only added to your concern. Every hesitant step took you closer to the center of the circle that made up Gimel’s home.

Was it still afraid? Or had it fled knowing you would be visiting more frequently? You wondered if it were possible for it to take up residence elsewhere and if that would, somehow, spoil both of the contrats you had agreed to. Hot panic was on the verge of squeezing you hard around the chest when you heard a sign behind you.

Startled, you let out a little squawk and whipped around.

“Mr. Zhongli!” You were partially relieved to see him, partially irritated that he had approached so quietly. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“I apologize for the fright.” He sounded genuine, but the fact that his gaze was trained on the center of the circle didn’t elude you. “When did you arrive?”

“Not even five minutes ago.” You smiled sheepishly. “Had a rough morning, but I’m here.”

“I can see that.” A fleeting smirk flickered across his features before he pursed his lips and cast his eyes around the arena. “And our friend?”

“Hasn’t shown up.” You shifted uneasily but masked it as adjusting the shoulder straps of your pack. “Can’t really blame it.”

“Time and patience. Sincerity. The wounds you’ve left won’t be healed so soon.” Reminded your companion. You sighed and slipped your pack from your bag.

“I know. I just — I want this to go well.” You huffed and sat down heavily, pack beside you. When you looked up and found you were the only one seated, you patted at the ground beside you. Zhongli blinked once, processed the request, then came to join you. You weren’t sure why, but it was amusing watching a man so tall and proper folding his legs as he settled down. Yet he didn’t look the least bit out of place, his serene expression matching the gentle whisper of the wind. In the growing light of day, he seemed to glow, as if soaking in the blooming heat of the sun like light-starved soil and warming rocks.

“If that is your true desire, then I believe all will go according to plan.” He assured you. You were mesmerized for a moment — was that optimism or confidence? You couldn’t tell, but both were appreciated.

“You’re really sure?”

“I have been around for a long time, and I like to believe that I have become quite adept at reading people. Although.  .  .” He paused for a moment, lips turning down. You leaned in.

“Although?”

“Hu Tao says I can be quite oblivious at times.” Zhongli admitted. You snorted, drawing his attention.

“I wouldn’t have guessed it. Wait, Hu Tao. Isn’t she the director of the funeral parlor? Doesn’t that mean she’s your boss?” You asked. Zhongli nodded once, and you continued. “She doesn’t mind you slacking off and comin’ out here to see Gimel?”

“I am merely a consultant. My services are required only when they are needed. When I have no work to attend to, I tend to wander.”

You hummed and leaned back on your hands, eyes up towards the brightening sky. “Do you wander out here a lot?”

“I’ve found myself visiting Gimel more often as of late.” Zhongli said with a sideways glance. You frowned and refused to peek in his direction purely out of guilt. “I like to check on them every now and again, just to see if they’re recovering properly.”

“I didn’t think they needed to recover.” You grumbled.

“Our world is no different than our mortal forms,” started Zhongli, “it can and will hurt if people aren’t careful. We can leave wounds. Look around you — these islands are proof. Gimel is no exception. While it is acceptable to harvest from a hypostasis, harvesting too frequently can leave it permanently damaged. It needs time to rest, to regrow. Tell me, did you notice anything strange the last time you fought it?”

You thought back for a moment, trying to recall the last battle you engaged the hypostasis in. It had been two days ago, you remembered. It had rained heavily in the area, leaving the ground muddy, the stone slick and the sands clingy. It had been both a blessing as a curse, or you’d thought that then. Thinking back, you did think it strange that the basalt pillars it created weren’t as strong as usual. You wanted to blame the rain, but that had hardly been your first encounter with it in the middle of a drizzle.

 “I saw them crumbling. I thought it was the rain.” You finally answered.

“That is a logical assumption to make, but you are aware of the truth now.”

“Yeah, I am.” You slumped forward, elbows on your knees and chin held in your hands. “What about other people? What are we going to do if someone else comes here expecting to find Gimel?”

“We will give them the chance to change their mind.” Zhongli shut his eyes and took in a deep calming breath. “May I ask you something, Miss Y/N?”

“Sure. Go for it.” You shrugged and fell silent, allowing him the chance.

“Thank you. I hope I’m not being terribly invasive, but what were you doing before your contracts bound you?” The question was asked delicately, leaving you room to deny him an answer if it was one you were unwilling to give. And while it did surprise you, you weren’t sure that you had any reason not to answer.

“Honestly, nothing and everything. I didn’t have an actual job. I just sort of.  .  . did what people asked me to do. I ran errands, I lent a hand where it was needed, I’ve babysat.” You let out a small, bitter laugh. “Now I’m a servant for the damn——!”

You clamped your lips shut and shrank into yourself. Without looking, you knew Zhongli was staring sharply in your direction.

“For whom?”

“Does it matter?” You pulled your knees up and scowled into them. A moment quietly slid past, and you still felt his eyes on you. His piercing gaze bore a hole in the walls you had abruptly thrown up, and you found yourself squirming uncomfortably. “Fine, it’s the Treasure Hoarders.”

“I had ventured a guess, but I wanted to hear you say it.” Zhongli sighed through his nose. “Have they hurt you or your family?”

“No.” You shook your head. “Not yet.”

“You anticipate a change?” He wondered.

“I’ve never known them to be totally honest. They’re a small group with a dumb name, but they’re loyal to their leader. Well, both leaders. The guy in charge thinks that if he can get me to find all these treasures for him, he can present them to whoever’s above him in the ranks and get himself a lovely, safe position in the group.” You scoffed. Zhongli arched a brow.

“You seem to know an awful lot about this mans intentions.” He pursued carefully. At this, you allowed the barest hint of a simper appear.

“He’s an idiot. He talks loud because he thinks it makes him intimidating. It only makes him look like a moron when he tells everyone within hearing distance what his plans are.”

Zhongli couldn’t help but to chuckle. “Am I to assume he is.  .  . how have I heard it phrased before? Ah, right. All brawn and no brains.”

It was your turn to laugh now, but the sound was a surprise when it left you. Despite your first encounter with him being tense and awkward, you realized now just how at ease you were around him. He radiated peace and understanding, calmness and patience. Lately, those were all feelings you had seen a distinct lack of. Where the Treasure Hoarders were brusk and unforgiving, Zhongli aimed to educate and reshape.

You wouldn’t have assumed for a moment that you would find yourself casually talking to him after all that had happened the day before, but you were glad for it.

“He is.” But as you both fell into a comfortable silence, you began to grow curious about the man beside you. You didn’t want to shatter the quiet you two had created, but the realization that you wouldn’t have many days like this with him prompted you to turn towards him and devote all of your attention to him. “When did you meet Gimel?”

Zhongli was taken aback, and you couldn’t help but to wonder if he had become too comfortable simply sitting next to you. His amber eyes fluttered, then grew distant, as if peering at something in the far-flung distance.

“I don’t believe it’s an exaggeration to say I’ve known them my whole life.” He started. “I can’t seem to think of a time when I haven’t known them. The form has changed, but they’re still the same.”

“Sounds like you’ve always been connected. Guess that explains the Geo Vision.” You leaned back to glance at the crystal attached to his coat. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, but realized he couldn’t see it. Instead, he settled for admiring you and the way your eyes shone when you glimpsed his faux Vision.

“Do you have one?” He asked.

“No.” You sighed loudly and fell back, laying across the stone and resting your hands on your stomach. “Visionless! Not worthy. Haven’t done anything in my life that warrants the gods blessing me.”

“I don’t believe that.” Zhongli frowned, his stony expression marred momentarily by disapproval. “Lacking a Vision does not make a person unworthy.”

“But it does make the people that have one super special, right?”

“I.  .  .” Zhongli stopped, made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat, then rerouted his thoughts. “You don’t believe you’re special?”

“Not at all. Do you?”

“Do I what? Believe I am special because I have a Vision, or do I believe that you are special?” His counter question was sudden and took you aback, like a sudden slap to the face. You gaped, and when you didn’t answer, he dared to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” You huffed.

“Your face. It turned the most interesting shade of red just then.” The smile he passed you was soft and kind with the faintest trace of amusement. You felt your cheeks burn hotter and quickly turned away to hide it, but it was too late. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss yourself. I sense potential in you.”

Your stomach knotted and your lungs were madly aflutter, all thanks to those words. Out of habit, you wanted to deny him, but the tender way he spoke was too reassuring not to latch onto.

“You’d be the first to.” You spared him a quick, embarrassed glance. “Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it. It costs nothing to build a person up.” He reminded. You frowned, but not out of unhappiness. There was now a solid, burning determination in your eyes that Zhongli barely glimpsed when you stood. “What are you up to?”

“You just said that it doesn’t cost anything to build a person up. It should be the same for elements, right?” You grinned broadly, then cupped your mouth with your hands. “Gimel! I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, I want you to know that I’ve always thought you were really amazing looking!”

You paused, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Looking down your shoulder, you found Zhongli nodding approvingly.

“You, uh.  .  . Actually, if I’m being honest, I’ve seen a few hypostasis! I’ve seen the ones in Mondstadt, and the one in Dragonspine! You were always the one I was the most excited to see, even if it was to come fight you. You’ve been the toughest too. And I’m sorry!” You enthusiastic shouting was met with silence, but you thought for a moment that you felt the ground beginning to vibrate again.

As quickly as the sensation came, it left again, leaving the bottoms of your feet feeling numb. Had the hypostasis acknowledged you, or had you mistaken your quickly beating heart and rushing blood for the thrum of an elemental life force?

Your shoulders drooped, and your chest felt heavy.

“Don’t lose hope. I think what you said was lovely.” Zhongli encouraged. You sat down again and dragged your pack forward, drawstrings loosened.

“Thanks. I know you’re right. I know it’s going to take more than just saying nice things to fix what I did, but I’m going to do it. Even if we hadn’t made that contract, I’d be here.” You pulled out the lunch you had brought with you and carefully unwrapped it. “But all that shouting made me hungry, and we’ll be here for a little while longer. You want some? I made it myself.”

Zhongli made to shake his head, but you gave him a stern glare before he could.

“Don’t even. You need to eat too, you know.” You portioned out your food, placed it in his hand, then giddily began to scarf down your half. Zhongli felt an odd stirring in his chest as he glanced down at the food you’d prepared. You misunderstood the sudden admiration and gratitude for hesitation, so you nudged him gently. “I’m not the best cook in the world, but I’m not bad either! Trust me, it’s decent.”

“It smells wonderful.” Zhongli bowed his head. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it! Quick, eat it up before it gets cold.” You paused your chewed and pocketed the bite in your cheek. “I can bring something tomorrow too if you end up liking that. Sound good?”

Zhongli nodded, and the feeling in his chest grew more agitated. “I look forward to it.”

[beardrabbles]

                              a masterlist of masterlists

        Here, you will find a link to a masterlist belonging to a series I currently write for!                                              REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

｢ MARVEL ( MCU )  ｣

｢ FIRE EMBLEM: THREE HOUSES  ｣

｢ GENSHIN IMPACT  ｣

｢ DRAGON AGE: INQUISITION  ｣

｢ OBEY ME!  ｣

｢ DANGANRONPA  ｣

｢ ORIGINAL / FANDOMLESS ｣

[beardrabbles]

                           genshin impact masterlist

◎ — platonic // ◉ — romantic // ✘ — nsfw

｢ ZHONGLI  ｣

rock solid bonds ◉

｢ DILUC  ｣

my seelie ◉

｢ VENTI  ｣

composed together ◉

｢ TARTAGLIA  ｣

WIP

[beardrabbles]

Hello! do you have a masterlist?

I have a page, but not a post. I’m considering getting rid of the page, though, and making masterlists the way I’ve seen people make them. Seems like it might be easier that way. c: As soon as I have those done, I’ll make have it pinned to my blog!

[beardrabbles]

my seelie.

characters: diluc, gender-neutral reader

warnings: none

word count: 1,445

notes: for my bestest friend and anyone else that loves diluc! we both play now ( ahaha, i got ‘er! ) and she legit gasps any time she finds a seelie. it’s the cutest freakin’ thing, and this immediately popped into my head. lottsa fluff!

No matter how often it happened, being called into Diluce’s private quarters made you nervous. Even sitting alone at the open window, surrounded by silence and cooled by the breeze trickling in, you were on edge. Your arms and legs were crossed, foot bobbing hard enough to numb everything from your toes to your ankle. Your mind was just as jittery, constantly running through all possible reasons as to why he would summon you this time — unfortunately, none of the possibilities made sense to you, so you only proved to confused yourself further.

Finally, after feeling time slowly tick by, the door behind you opened. The sound gave you a start, and you stood so abruptly that you startled the man as he stepped through.

“I apologize for the wait, love.” The door was quickly shut behind him before he strode forward and captured your lips in a firm but loving kiss. The mountains worth of anxiety that had built up was swept aside like dust, relieving the weight on your heart and shoulders. Diluc wasn’t the most skilled at comforting people, but he knew you well enough by now that he could tell when you needed reassurance. Clearly, he wasn’t upset with you, but you still felt a pinch of befuddlement when he pulled away.

“Don’t worry about it.” You let go of a heavy sigh and reached up to tuck a lock of his bright red hair behind his ear. “I was worried I’d done something to make you call me all the way out here.”

“If that’s what I lead you to believe, then I apologize again.” He caught your hand in his and pressed your palm to his cheek. “I’d been planning this for quite a while, and it felt more appropriate to do it here than at the tavern. I’m.  .  . not the best at surprising people, you know this.”

“And that hasn’t changed the fact that I love you.” You smiled and traced your thumb against his lower lip, eliciting a shaky sigh from the usually stead-fast and unflappable man.

“I appreciate that. I appreciate you.” Diluc spoiled you with another kiss, this one deeper than the last. Your heart swelled and your fingertips tingled as your dragged them from his cheek to the back of his neck, the little hairs that had fallen out of his ponytail standing on end. And while it made your blood run hot to feel his teeth on your lips and to hear the deep groans of satisfaction that were pulled from his chest, you didn’t want to distract from the real reason why you were called to his winery.

“Diluc.  .  .” You reluctantly pulled away, letting one more quick and fleeting peck at the corner of his lips cool the heat in your belly. “You said you were planning something?”

“Had planned,” corrected the nobleman, “everything so far has gone exactly as I’ve hoped it would. The only snag is you.”

You reeled back. “Me?”

Diluc sighed and opened one side of his jacket, gloved hand slipping into one of the inside pockets. “It took me a week to find someone competent enough to fetch me a near flawless chunk of Noctilucous Jade, another handful of weeks to find someone with the skill to shape it, then.  .  .”

He trailed off, but you urged him on with a quiet, “then?”

“It’s taken me too long to work up the courage to give it to you. You deserve perfection, and I couldn’t help thinking that my efforts weren’t enough.” From the pocket, Diluc pulled out a long, flat box made of a wood so dark it almost looked black in the shade cast by curtains. But rather than look at it, you found yourself enthralled in this new, uncertain side of your partner.

Rarely was he vocal about his doubt, about his inability to adjust quickly to the romantic aspects of your relationship. You never rushed him, but you knew he loathed being inadequate. He needed to learn, to master and perfect everything he touched. No matter how often you reassure him, you acknowledged that this was simply a part of who he was. You adored him, you cherished him, and you didn’t want to make him change if it wasn’t an issue.

But you could smile, and you could appreciate his every effort, big and small.

“You could have given me a ragged dandelion, and I would have loved it, Diluc. As long as it came from you and you used your heart, it doesn’t need to be perfect.” You accepted the box and bit down at your lip, wondering for only one moment what might be inside before prying the lid back.

Sitting on a bed of crushed velvet was the familiar, whimsical shape of a Seelie molded out of jade. Every detail, from the round head, the fluttering scarf and the whisker-like wisps, reminded you of the many memories you had as a child. It was no bigger than your thumb, attached to a thin chain made of polished silver. You were almost afraid to touch it, worrying that you might blemish the charm and sully all that Diluc had gone through just to have this made.

“Will you wear it?” He asked. You were snapped out of your thoughts, eyes wide and rimmed with barely-there tears.

“Of course!” You returned the box to him and turned when motioned to. Diluc removed the necklace from its box and came to stand behind you, fingers carefully working the clasp once the charm rested in the middle of your collarbone. With it secure, Diluc carefully kissed the back of your neck, right where your shoulders met with your neck. He drew out a single shiver and a mess of giggles, the sound putting a faint smile on his lips.

“Let me see.”

You turned, adjusting the charm. At the sight of it resting against your skin, his heart nearly burst. You could see the relief in his eyes, as well as the roaring fire of a man deeply, hopelessly in love. You became flushed under his gaze, your own eyes turned down bashfully.

“Diluc, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why a Seelie?” You had always adored the shape, but you wanted to hear his reasoning.

Diluc awkward cleared his throat and looked away the same way you did. “I recalled you loving them when we were children, then remembered that you still love them to this day. I’ve lost count of how many times it’s happened, but you never fail to gasp when you see one, and it’s near impossible to stop you from taking chase. I thought the silly notion would have faded as you’ve gotten older, but it appears I was wrong.”

You touched carefully at the charm and raised an eyebrow. “So this is a reminder that I’m still a silly child?”

“Not at all.” Diluc allowed another smile to appear, and this time it remained. “The necklace is yours, but reminder is for me. It reminds me that I was eventually lead towards the greatest treasure of all.”

He breathed deep and closed the distance between you, arms wrapping tightly around your waist. Out of habit, you draped your own around his shoulders, letting his forehead rest against yours. “My whole life, I thought I would find nothing more important than my duties. My knighthood, casting it aside, owning this business.  .  . It felt like those were all I had. And every time I grew content with that, you came along to guide me. You always took me by the hand, pulling me along and reminding me that this isn’t all I can be.”

He paused for a moment to think before he continued on, the softness in his voice melting at your heart and making your eyes sting.

“You, my little seelie, guided me towards the truth: I can love, and I can be loved in return. I can relax. I can do what makes me happy, and I can be accepted when I’m not happy. I will always have someone to talk to, to admire, to protect. You’ve given me so much, and I have to be thankful that, unlike actual Seelie, you haven’t vanished on me.”

“Never.” You sniffled once and nudged your nose against his cheek. “That will never happen.”

“I’m glad.” His grasp on you tightened, fingers grasping at the back of your clothes and face buried in your shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too, but.  .  .”

“Hmm?”

You snickered and curled a lock of his hair between your fingers. “Can I hear you call me ‘my little seelie’ again?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on!”

[beardrabbles]

composed together. [ ♡ ]

characters: venti, reader

warnings: alcohol mention

word count: 3,029

notes: been trying out venti as a muse on a roleplay blog i have, but I wanted to have a crack at writing a reader with him. i'm not a poet in any sense of the word, so i'm sorry if isn't up to venti's standards lmao. if you tolerated all the rhyming, you deserve a gold star and a high-five.

You had tried so hard to make it back in time, but were disappointed when you returned to find Mondstadt barren of the usual Windblume decorations. There were no wreaths or elaborately decorated banners, no potted plants sporting twirling pinwheels. The scent of fresh flowers and baking goods persisted, but it didn’t carry with it the festive spirit. People were, once again, content to ask for help rather than tend to their own needs.

‘ And that’s why I missed out.  .  . ’ You brooded. It was because you offered yourself as a member of the Adventurer's Guild that you had found yourself pulled away from your home. You had been promised that the job in question wouldn’t take you longer than three days, give or take a day depending on how well you did. But, as it turned out, you had been gone for an entire week. And in that week, the festival had come and gone.

Windblume had never been about the romance for you. Every year, you looked forward to the food and atmosphere, letting the spirit carry you away. This year, however, you had held onto the fleeting hope that someone might show interest. Or that you might gather the courage to approach the one you so adored. You knew it was a lame excuse to depend on one holiday to steel your nerves, but the time and your chance had dashed past in the blink of an eye.

“Shouldn’t have taken the damn commission.” You slumped at an outdoor table near The Angel’s Share, a half-empty tankard of cider resting in your hands. You drummed your fingers along the side of the tankard, willing yourself not to be bummed. The holiday would come around again next year, you reminded yourself as you downed another gulp. “But I’ll probably get sent out then too.”

You stooped forward even further, cheek nearly pressed flat to the table when the familiar sound of plucked  lyre strings thrummed in your ear. You sat straight so abruptly that you made yourself dizzy, your need to look around rapidly for the source not helping the fuzzy feeling in your head.

“Venti?” You called his name with such unbridled hope that he couldn’t keep himself hidden for long. A giggle sounded above you, and you felt your diminishing mood soar when you spotted the colorful bard sitting along the eaves of the tavern, beloved lyre in hand.

“The one and only!” He cooed, soaking in your glee. “Looks like you started without me.”

You frowned and peered down at your table, noting the two other empty tankards. Cheeks flushed from embarrassment, you pushed them aside, as if that would make them ( and your shame ) disappear. “Look, I just got back and I find out I missed out on Windbl——!”

Eyes up, you realized too late that Venti had vanished from the roof. You blinked once, then twice, your cider-addled mind slow to catch up. Where did he go?

“I was wondering where you’d gone off too.” His voice bobbed along the air, light and playful, and it tugged your attention like a hook pulling along a caught fish. He sat across from you, his chin resting in his palm and bright eyes twinkling with eternal mischief. “Missed Windblume, huh?”

“Mhmm.” You grunted and polished off the rest of your drink, mood dropping again. “I was looking forward to it too. Did I miss anything important?”

Venti hummed and leaned back in his seat. Absentmindedly, he toyed with the strings of his lyre. “Let me think. Margaret thought of a new, non-alcoholic drink and it went over pretty well with the kids and those looking to keep themselves a little more dignified during the festivities. Our own Honorary Knight was named this years Windblume Star! Oh! That’s right, I taught a class on the art of expressing ones love though poetry.”

You snorted.

“You taught people to write poems?” Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “At what cost?”

“Come noq, Y/N, do you really think I could put a price on the ability to write out what a person’s heart yearns for most?” He paused, saw your deadpan stare, then let out a nervous chuckle. “A few bottles of holiday-exclusive wine is all I asked for.”

“Begged is more like it.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “How many bottles exactly?”

“Enough to tide me over.” Answered the bard vaguely.

“Is there any left?”

His silence was all the answer you needed. You groaned, let your head hit the table, then left it there as your forehead throbbed. Venti, sporting the rare flicker of guilt across a normally jovial face, leaned forward to pat at the back of your head.

“Hey, don’t be down. I have an idea!”

You lifted your head, but your eyes were downcast and dulled. “Is it a bad idea? I don’t think I want to mess with anyone right now, Venti.”

“I thought of the idea, so of course it’s a good one! And we’re not going to mess with anyone.” Venti grinned from ear-to-ear and stood, offering you a single, delicate hand. You gave it a hard stare, wondering what sort of troublesome plans he had brewing in his head. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to come up with a believable excuse as to why you couldn’t indulge him.

Leaving your empty tankards behind, you stood and took Venti’s hand. You stumbled the slightest bit before finding your footing. “What’s your idea, O Great and Fantastical Bard?”

“Since you’re being so kind as to lavish me in well-deserved compliments, I’ll tell you.” He winked at your withering glare. “You’re going to help me compose a song!”

“How is that going to cheer me up? I’m not poetic.” You grumbled. Venti clicked his tongue as he guided you away from the tavern and towards the cathedral.

“That is wildly untrue, Y/N! Everyone is capable of expressing themselves through poetry.” He argued.

“But I’m not good at rhyming or thinking of pretty words.” You countered. Venti sighed and gave your fingers an encouraging squeeze.

“That’s not what it’s about. No one said that poetry was meant to impress people. If it does, that’s a bonus, but the point is to shape your feelings. You write how you feel, not how you want to sound. If you don’t rhyme, that’s fine. If you want to use big words, then by all means! Short words are still words, and they can still carry your thoughts with them. There are no rules with it comes to poetry, no matter what some stuffy scholar might say.” He tugged your hand and pulled your arm up high, leading you into an impromptu twirl. Unable to help yourself, you fell into a fit of laughter that instantly lifted your mood.

“I guess you’re right, but that doesn’t make it any easier for me.” You followed along, a new spring in your step. Venti shrugged.

“Practice means progress!” He clearly wouldn’t allow you to wallow in your negativity, and you were quietly grateful for it. If there was anyone that could lift you out of a funk, no matter how deep and depressing it may be, it would be him. 

Venti lead you past the statue of Barbados and around the side of the cathedral, where he perched on the side of a stone railing. Beyond you sat the lake, it’s surface a constantly shifting sheet of vivid oranges, cheerful yellows, warm reds and sleepy blues. The sun was setting, and soon night would fall, but Venti didn’t seem concerned. If it didn’t worry him, then it didn’t worry you, so you found a seat beside him and made yourself comfortable.

“The breeze is nice.  .  .” You let your eyes fall closed, skin kissed by a gentle twirl of the air against your heated cheeks. You couldn’t see then how Venti’s lips quirked up subtly, an adoration in his eyes that not many earned. He watched you for all of one, still moment before your eyes opened and he was forced to look elsewhere.

“Yeah, it is. So!” Quick to discard the hammering in his chest, Venti pulled forward his lyre and cleared his throat. “About that song——”

“What is it about?”

“Unspoken love, the kind that lives in your chest and makes every moment spent with the person you adore both exciting and painful.” His fingers strummed one string, then another. You frowned, the first few notes squeezing at your heart.

“Why is it unspoken?” You wondered, keeping your voice low.

“Because, sometimes, confessing is more selfish and cruel than never saying anything at all. Because opening up one’s heart may lead to more pain than you first expect.” The melancholy notes only proved to add more hurt to your chest, but still the bard smiled.

“Do you really want to write a song that sad?” You weren’t sure that your flimsy mood could handle thinking about such a morose subject.

“Oh, don’t misunderstand, dear friend~ The reason for love’s silence is upsetting, but the love itself is anything but!” Venti began to swing his legs, and you felt the breeze pick up. Green eyes turned up towards the sky, while a subtle tinge of pink touched his cheeks. “I’ll think of the first few lines, then you chime in with whatever your lovely little mind and heart think of first. Alright?”

“If you say so.”

“Great!” Skilled fingers began to play, the heart of the music beating in time with your own. “I want it to start like this: I want always to treasure your warm soul and kind eyes.  .  .”

You waited for more, but were met with a calm quiet. A single glance from the bard, and you suddenly felt as is everyone in town could hear and see you. Face burning hot with embarrassment, you looked out towards water rather than at your companion.

“I want always to treasure your warm soul and kind eyes. Hmm.” You breathed in deep and muttered the first thing that came into your head. “Every smile and glance like a hard-earned prize.”

“Good! And you said you weren’t skilled at this.” Venti beamed, the sheer glee behind his praise lifting your mood higher still. “Let’s keep going. Next line: Your voice it rings like the sweetest prayer.  .  .”

You thought hard again, arms crossed tight and lips pursed. This was as difficult as you thought it might be, but Venti’s enthusiasm was infectious. So, again you offered the only words that rose to the top of your mind. “.  .  . a blessing from lips so fair.”

Venti hummed, the sound soft and low in his chest. “Indeed they are.”

“What?”

“Nothing! Moving on!” He slipped from the stone railing and came to stand in front of you, posture loose and playful even as he came dangerously close. “I adore you, I do. My heart is yours, it’s true. Little skips and steady pounding, my dear, you are astounding.”

Feeling him so near, his eyes mirthful and intent on you, you couldn’t help but to shrink into yourself a little. You grasped the railing you sat on and hunched your shoulders, eyes glued to your feet. If only those words were meant for you. Oh, but then what would you do?

“Is this meant to inspire other people to think of their love, or are you thinking of someone in particular?” You couldn’t and wouldn’t dare to hope, but you had to ask.

The strumming stopped, but you didn’t turn your gaze up.

“Perhaps I am,” Venti purred coyly, “why? Is there someone you’re thinking about?”

“Don’t be such an imp.” You kicked a foot out, but he was quick to step aside. Your aggression, though harmless, pulled a laugh from the bard. “I might be thinking of someone.”

“Who is it?” Venti pestered. “Do I know them?”

“Maybe.” You sported a cheeky smile of your own. Venti moved in an inch or two more to your side, leaving only a breadth of space between the two of you.

“Do they inspire you?” He asked. You sighed, completely unable to contain the need.

“He does.”

“Oh, so they’re a he, are they? That narrows it down.” He tittered and let himself play a soft, ambient tune. “Does he know how you feel?”

“No way!” You let out a bark of laughter. “Been trying to keep it a secret.”

“Why?” Venti blinked, appearing thoroughly baffled. “He should know!”

“What was it you said? Confessing is selfish sometimes.  .  .”

“Using my words against me. Cruel.” Venti sighed. “You really won’t tell him?”

“Not until it’s right, and not until I’m strong enough to accept the possibility that he might not feel the same.” Your smile was feeble and didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Chances come and go, away with the wind they blow, so I hold these lovelorn words inside my chest, never to be confessed.”

Venti frowned, watching as your fingers pressed and rubbed at the sudden ache right where your heart sat. His own reacted in kind, the horribly familiar grasp of doubt squeezing at his chest. He knew those thoughts and feelings all to well.

“In your heart the feelings run deep, but darling, don’t put them to sleep.” He reached out again when you dismissed his lyrics with a scoff, only this time you didn’t hesitate to place your hand in his. He didn’t drag you away from where you sat, but let his fingers slip between yours. Your heart stuttered a moment, the gentleness of the gesture filling you with gratitude and trace amounts of confusion.

The breeze picked up again, and you thought you could still hear the gentle song of the lyre despite him being preoccupied.

“Look at me.” He voice dropped to a whisper, so soft and airy that you almost didn’t catch it. But when you did, you bashfully locked your gaze with his. The sweetest smile pulled at his lips, the glimmer in his eyes so sincere that it made your own eyes prickle at the very corners.

Why did you have to fall for someone like him? Why couldn’t you have fallen for someone forgettable, or someone that wasn’t almost always within reach?

“Listen to my words, find them true, only a moron would reject you. You are wanted, loved and adored, you are more precious than any treasure hoard.” Venti arched himself forward, his forehead meeting with yours. Music continued to play in your ears, making the air around his words sweet. Could you believe them when they came from someone as flighty as him? You wanted desperately to, but you had to argue, to contest his open fondness for you.

“By the time the day is done, you’ll have said that to everyone.” You countered. Venti couldn’t hold back a laugh, his head moving away from yours. Already, you regretted sassing him. Come back, stay close.

“You’re getting better at that. While it’s true that I love to sing peoples praises, what I give you aren’t throwaway phrases. You’ve caught me, dear heart, and I want to surrender, allow me to bask in your unending splendor.”

You snorted and gave him a harmless shove. Venti grinned and gave in to your push, but he was near again in an instant.

“It can’t be that hard to believe that someone would love you. Don’t you believe me?” His question hung heavy in the air, leaving you momentarily speechless. Your mouth opened and closed, and each time your words failed you. Only after a long moment of listening to you stammer did Venti cautiously lean in. “Should I be selfish?”

“What does it mean for a bard to be selfish?” After a moment of mental screaming, you felt a smirk tease at your lips, but it was short lived. “Aside from drink all his wine before sharing it with someone?”

“Selfish bards do many, many things.” He spoke slowly, making sure each word dragged and lured you in. “I’ll admit it was silly to drink all the wine without you, but I can make up for it.”

You hummed contemplatively, each passing second tugging you closer and closer.

“How?”

“More wine?” He offered. You pulled a face.

“Mmmn, maybe. And?” Your mind was numb at this point, the idea that you two were so close making every inch of your body squirm. You had only daydreamed of sappy little scenarios like this, so living one out felt too good to be true. You were waiting to wake up, in fact, because this couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be tempting the idea of confessing to you when the entire world of Teyvat could offer him better.

“Songs written just for you?” Venti’s grin broadened, but there was a hitch in his breath when you nudged the tip of your nose against his.

“Anything else?” You egged him on, catching a flare of darker green in his eyes. He said nothing, but the way he moved his hand to touch your cheek spoke volumes. “How about a share of the apples you pick every day, or some mora, or——?”

“You’re talking too much.” He muttered, lips only a fraction away from yours.

“That’s rich coming from you.  .  .”

His breath was warm and welcome and mingled with yours for all of one second before you felt the notion of a kiss. It was then that the bell above the cathedral chimed, it’s proximity and the intensity of the clap jarring you and the bard from your shared trance. You jerked away, flushed and wide-eyed, while Venti clicked his tongue. Vexed, he glared up towards the cathedral.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I need to go.” You scrambled from your spot, heart hammering so hard in your ears that it almost drowned out the sounds of the bell. “I forgot to see Katheryne about the commission!”

Venti arched a brow. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.” You vaulted over the railing and contemplated running off without another word, but it didn’t feel right. Rather than succumb to cowardice and embarrassment, you turned to face the bard. “Tomorrow. We’ll do this again, I promise, and.  .  .”

“And?”

“We’ll finish where we left off.”

“I was hoping you’d say that!”

[beardrabbles]

rock solid bonds.        pt. one

characters: zhongli, female reader, gimel ( geo hypostasis )

warnings: none

word count: 3,858 ( it’s LONG, y’all, sorry )

notes: first thing tossed into the genshin fandom is zhongli because i’m weak. so very weak. i know this idea is strange, but i’m running with it. this will have many parts, just not sure how many. anywho! :D hey. how’s it going? nice to meet’cha. oh!! also. i don’t have a beta reader, so there may be typos i’ve missed. oof.

You had made this trip several times before, and you assumed that this trip would be no different. You skirted around small packs of curious hilichurl, scooped up seashells from the many beaches you followed and swam through the clear, blue waters of Guyun Stone Forest until — finally — you reached the island you had been visiting over the course of several months.

The moment your water-logged feet touched solid ground rather than loose sand, you felt it — the faint traces of a low, constant vibration. It was a steady buzzing, except where the intensity would pulse every now and again, like a living heartbeat.

‘ It’s here, ’ you thought, ‘ good. ’

You hurried to rest against the crumbling wall of the ruins where the hypostasis often lingered, allowing yourself a moment to dry off and rummage through your supplies. No matter how routine this was, you knew you couldn’t become complacent. You could handle the stubborn bundle of geo, no problem, but you knew it never hurt to be prepared.

From your bag, you pulled out a wrapped bundle of fried fish and a single, elegant vial of a bright yellow liquid. You sloshed the liquid around, recalling the last time you’d been overconfident and forgone making the geo dampening potion. You had returned home that day with several more bruises the usual, and so you had firmly reminded yourself at you would prepare some, even if it had meant several days worth of butterfly chasing.

“You got lucky last time. Saw you learned a new move, but I’m smart. I learned.” You lifted the stopper out of the vial and knocked back the contents. The effects were immediate. You didn’t look it, but you felt thicker, sturdier, more centered. You hoped that was the effect of the potion, anyway. Nothing would sour your mood more than to realize the person you’d hired to make the potion had fouled it up.

Shrugging, you placed the empty vial into your pack, gulped down several bites of fried fish, then left your pack tucked up against the wall and behind a mess of tangled roots. Your hands moved next to the handle of your weapon, which peeked out from over your shoulder. With a heave, you brought out the claymore you so adored. It was nicked in places and scuffed in others, yet you found you were too attached. It had gotten you through too many battles, and it felt wrong to abandon it.

“Alright, we’ve got this. Just a few more months of this, and we can——!” Your self-given peptalk was cut short when you glanced around the wall and found that the hypostasis wasn’t alone. Choking on your own words, you quickly ducked back into the hiding. “Dammit! Someone’s already here.”

You set your claymore aside and pressed your hands to the wall, using it to lean around and peek.

“Huh.  .  .” Strange. Nearly every time you found the raw elemental, it had its defenses up. Even as it seemingly napped in place, it surrounded itself in solid, almost unbreakable basalt. Now, in front of this tall stranger, it was nothing more than its small, brightly glowing core. It bobbed and spun, giving off the sunshine-bright disposition of a puppy.

It was almost cute.

Interesting as the hypostasis was in this form, you found yourself drawn to the stranger interacting with it. Slender but strong, standing tall and straight, with a single hand that wove through the air around the exposed core. From where you stood, you couldn’t quite tell who he was, but something about him felt familiar.

‘ I’ve seen him before. ’ The earthen tones of his clothes and hair, the elegance and the poise. You were certain you had seen someone similar making their way through the streets of the harbor before. And, in his wake, came dreamy sighs and low purrs of admiration from all manner of people. The name eluded you, mostly because you didn’t care. He was a stranger, and you had no reason to acknowledge him until now.

“Why does it look like he’s playing with it?” You huffed through your nose, feeling thoroughly irritated that your chance to mine precious gems from the hypostasis had been squandered.

Without meaning to, you let out a groan of frustration.

The elemental core gave a sudden jolt, it’s small form jerking away from the man. In an instant, it wrapped itself in its armor, dark basalt etched with shimmering lines of gold appearing in large, even chunks. You gasped and ducked back for a second time, your heart rapidly beating against your chest. It didn’t know you were there. It couldn’t! You weren’t that loud, were you?

“Moron!” You scolded yourself and made to snatch your pack up when a voice, smooth and deep, reached you.

“I know you’re there.”

You stopped and stood still, as if that would render you completely untraceable. Breath held, but heart still hammering, you waited.

“It would benefit you greatly to come out of hiding.” The voice continued, calm and even.

Something about the voice made you reluctant to run. Shuddering and setting aside your things, you willingly stepped out from behind the crumbling ruins. Hands up and empty, you first revealed that you were unarmed. Harmless. Totally harmless.

“Ah, there you are.” There was a hint of satisfaction in the man’s tone, but you hardly paid attention. Your focus was intent on the sensation soaking through the soles of your boots. The vibration from earlier wasn’t as calm as it had been, the heartbeat-like thrum from earlier replaced with an anxious tattoo that traveled through your legs and up into your chest. You found yourself catching your breath, a horrible feeling welling inside your ribcage.

“Am I causing that?” Your own voice was soft and feeble and sincere. The man approached at a slow but steady clip, until he stood a mere foot away. His arms were folded behind him, making him appear even more refined up close.

“I wasn’t expecting you to realize your mistake so quickly. Good. I wasn’t looking forward to explaining it.” He arched a single brow. “Might I ask your name?”

“Uh.  .  .” You shook yourself from your mounting guilt and lowered your hands. He was polite, but you could tell from the sharp look in his amber eyes that he didn’t approve of your presence, and rightfully so. Still, you didn’t want to deny him your name when he had yet to force you off the island. You muttered your name, and he let out a thoughtful hum before repeating it.

Never had you heard your own name on a voice that alluring. It balanced on a fine line between heavenly and sinful, and you wished deeply that he would never, ever say it again. It sounded too good, and your heart already had its share of problems to deal with at the moment, shame being one of them.

“Seen you around the harbor before, but I can’t remember your name.” You gently prompted him to give his own name in return, hoping it wouldn’t be seen as rude. The corner of his lips turned up a fraction, but that hint of a smile didn’t last long.

“I am Zhongli. Under different circumstances, I would say it was a pleasure to meet you.” Still scolding, still disapproving. You shrank under his gaze, but still found it in you to speak in turn.

“I’ve never seen it out of its armor for that long before.” You observed.

“I wonder why that is.  .  .” Zhongli turned to face the elemental, his broad shoulders rising and lowering with a heavy sigh. Guilt punched you in the gut again.

“I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong!” You didn’t mean to raise your voice, but you had never once been convinced that your mining had been detrimental to the hypostasis.

“It cannot speak for itself, so you were lead to believe that your harvesting was harmless.” Zhongli mused as he ventured towards the elemental again. “That is understandable. But now that you are aware, now that you feel the effect your presence has on it, are you willing to change?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but were stopped but a sudden thought.

For the sake of a voiceless, sentient being, were you willing to change? Yes.        Were you able? No.

You hurried to follow Zhongli and weren’t the least bit surprised when the hypostasis kept its distance, basalt armor quaking with fear. You stopped your advance, keeping well behind Zhongli.

“I can’t.”

“Oh?” He didn’t turn his attention to you, but kept it intent on the elemental. He lifted a gloved hand, the palm resting carefully along the surface of one cube of armor. “That is a shame. I was hoping you’d be agreeable.”

“No, it’s — it’s not that I don’t want to. I want to! I didn’t know it was.  .  .”

“Capable of feelings?”

You nodded despite knowing he couldn’t see you.

“All things feel, all things remember. The lack of a voice does not make one unworthy of thoughts or memories, good or bad.” Zhongli smoothed his hand over the armor of the hypostasis. “It remembers. You are quite brutal.”

“I’m sorry.” You directed this to the hypostasis rather than him. “I didn’t know.”

“And yet you blatantly refuse to change your behavior?” Zhongli’s sharp gaze landed on you again.

“I have an obligation! I’m bound to my word.” Your hackles rose for a moment, but were lowered again soon after. “I have a contract.”

At this, Zhongli came to face you. “A contract?”

“I don’t know why I should tell you.” Your stubbornness reared its ugly head in that moment. Arms crossed, you waited for him to coldly dismiss you. Instead, he folded his arms behind his back and cooly stared you down.

“Contracts are, for better or worse, binding. I understand that, when broken, there can be dire consequences. Is this an official contract?” He wondered. You wanted to hold firm to your refusal to speak of it, but the man’s calm nature made it difficult.

Shifting uneasily, you gave another nod.

“Yes.”

“Are you barred from discussing the terms of the contract with people unrelated to the contract itself?” Each question was asked quickly and sharply, as if practiced. You frowned, moreso out of thought than offense.

“I don’t think so. No one’s ever told me I’m not allowed.”

“Then, please, indulge me. What about this contract requires you to mine as often as you do?”

“You want the long version or the short version?” You reached up to rub at the space between your eyebrows, mounting stress threatening to bring forward a headache.

“Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

“If you say so. My family’s in a tight spot, yeah? We owe some people a lot of money, but most of the people involved are too old, too frail or too inexperienced to go out and earn the mora we need. The people that are hounding us thought, hey, let’s get the daughter to go out and find these precious materials. No one can pass up on free labor, right? I work for them, I slowly whittle away at the debt my family’s worked up for the last few years.” You shrugged casually to hide the fact that the contract was draining you of your free time and, apparently, your morals.

Zhongli frowned, a wrinkle knitting his brows together.

“What are the exact terms on your contract?” He asked, ignoring a nudge against his shoulder from the hypostasis.

“There are quite a few, but the one causing me the most trouble right now is the fact that I need to come here every day and pick out the prithiva from your friend there.” You didn’t miss the shudder in the rocks or the way the hypostasis fled yet again, putting space between you and itself. Zhongli motioned for the hypostasis to calm, but the trembling remained.

“I need the terms as they were worded the day the contract was made.” Zhongli requested firmly this time.

“Three prithiva gems, whole and unblemished, every day for a year. Even if it means getting the slivers and asking someone to do their alchemy-thing on it, I gotta get those gems.”

Zhongli’s stern gaze softened as he motioned for the hypostasis to come nearer.

“That’s all?”

“When it comes to this fella, yeah. I just need the gems.” This time, you were the one to step away from the coming hypostasis. It was clear you had scarred the creature, and you weren’t about to disrespect it in front of this man, who so clearly cherished the living geo.

“You aren’t required to fight and take it?” He continued.

“They never said I did, but it was the only way I could think to fulfill the terms.” You slumped in place and let out a little whine. “Don’t tell me I could have just asked for it.”

“Did you consider the possibility?” Zhongli quipped.

“No! I didn’t think it could understand people!” You stressed with a growl. Zhongli chuckled, the sound taking you aback.

“It doesn’t understand language, but it understands intent. Come here.” The command was subtle, but you felt compelled to obey. Cautiously, you took to Zhongli’s side. His taller frame shadowed yours, and you swore you caught the scent of sun-warmed stones and hints of glaze lilies as an errant ocean breeze whorled past. “Put your hand out, like me.”

You hesitated, and he took note of this.

“Be calm. If you’re afraid, it will know.” He coaxed you, sounding far gentler than he had since calling you out of your hiding spot.

“I’m not afraid,” you corrected, “I feel bad.”

“As deserving as the feeling is, you can make it right if it is your intent to.” Zhongli pointed out. You sucked in a breath, nodded once, then held your hand out. The hypostasis shuddered again and bobbed backwards. Zhongli frowned like a disapproving father and clicked his tongue. “I understand that she’s been cruel, but I believe her when she says she was unaware of how sentient you are. If we are to make amends, the effort needs to be mutual on both parts. As long as I am here, neither of you will come to harm.”

The hypostasis twitched and the armor around it lowered for a moment, but it was fleeting. In a small fit of hope, you drew closer and placed your hand against the glimmering armor. The protective chunks of rock snapped back into place around its dim core, spun rapidly in the air, then sunk down into the ground where all that remained were spider-web cracks that glowed as warm and bright as the sun.

You stood there, hand out and mouth agape.

“It ran away!”

Zhongli lowered his head for a moment. “This was not the result I imagined, but it is progress.”

You lowered your hand and rolled your eyes.

“How is that progress?” You snapped. Zhongli didn’t so much as flinch at your aggression, but sported a knowing smile that irritated your further.

“Gimel let you near without attacking out of instinct. I would say that counts as progress, small step as it is.” He spoke assuredly, and you supposed he had a point.

“Gimel?”

“It has a name. It may work in your favor to remember it.” Zhongli added.

“Yeah, well — what am I supposed to do now? I can’t go back empty-handed.” You grumbled and turned away, stalking back to the spot where you had stashed your bag. The effects of the potion you had drank earlier had begun to ware off, leaving you feeling oddly light and slightly off-balance. That, coupled with your plummeting mood, made you want to leave behind the island and hope that your contract wasn’t seen as broken.

Behind you, you heard the steady click of boots as Zhongli followed behind you.

“I have an offer.” He stopped when you did, and he didn’t miss the flicker of confusion and wariness in your eyes when you spun around.

“What kind of offer?” You were like a cornered animal, and you wondered if he had sensed your growing worry since Gimel had disappeared. You weren’t desperate yet, but that may have been because you had yet to fail in completing your end of the contract. The consequences were unknown, but you were sure you would regret returning to Liyue Harbor without the gems you were asked to retrieve. Still, you were concerned, and you knew it was hard to hide when you fidgeted the way you did.

“A contract.”

“No.”

“One that won’t break the conditions of the contract you’re currently bound to.” He continued in spite of your quick refusal. You crossed your arms and wrinkled your nose, but it only caused him to smile again. “Don’t be stubborn, girl.”

You scowled and felt a rare flare of anger rise, but he interrupted you with a shake of his head and a raise of his closed hand. Long, slender fingers unfurled, revealing a small handful of pristine prithiva topaz gemstones. It wasn’t out of greed that you lunged forward, but a deep desire to protect yourself and your family. You didn’t grab the gems, of course. It wouldn’t do to anger this man after he had shown you patience, but you wouldn’t deny that it was a tempting sight to see him holding the gems out for you to take.

You whetted your lips with a quick swipe of your tongue and spoke past the sandpaper feeling in your throat.

“What are your terms?” You croaked.

“You return to this place every day, unarmed and alone, to spend time with Gimel. In return, you will be rewarded with the gems required of you. As it’s clear they didn’t specify how you acquire them, it will not interfere with the terms of your current contract.” He raised both brows this time and held the gems out further. Your fingers twitched as you reached, but you didn’t take them.

“That’s all you want out of me?”

“We are merely acquaintances, but I hardly find it worthwhile to trick you into a dishonest contract. My terms are as simple as they sound. You cease hostilities against Gimel and attempt to right your wrongs, and you will have your gems. I only ask for a few hours spent here, nothing more. I can’t expect you to wrap your entire life around this one task.” He reached out to take one of your hands, turning the palm up. His touch was gentle and didn’t contest with your own freewill, but you let him do as he pleased.

His thumb uncurled your your fingers, followed the deep lines in your palm and smoothed over your wrist. Your cheeks burned, but you blamed the glaring sun overhead. He was only being kind, you told yourself.

“If I accept these, does that mean I accept the contract?”

“I’m afraid so.” He stepped closer, head and voice low. His dark hair framed his stoic expression, yet his hand on yours remained kind. “Your answer?”

You swallowed hard, weighed your options, then peered up into those vivid, autumn-tinted eyes. “Will you be here too?”

You weren’t sure what prompted such a question, but it seemed to catch him as off-guard as well. He blinked and pulled back for a moment. “Is this an amendment?”

“No,” you shook your head and dared to laugh, “just a request. I don’t think Gimel will trust me on my own, not at first.”

“Its trust will be be earned by your own merits, not because I am here.” Zhongli informed you stiffly.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just think — maybe it would help if I observed you for a little while, maybe a few days. I can see how better to approach, then you can leave us be.” You tilted your head. “Is that unreasonable?”

“I.  .  . suppose it’s not. You are willing to learn, at least, and I cannot fault you for that. Very well. Starting tomorrow, I will accompany you for three days. After that, you are expected to use what you’ve learned on your own.” He closed his fingers around the gemstones and twisted his wrist, readying himself to drop them into your waiting hand. “Has your answer changed?”

You shook your head. “No, I planned to accept before.”

“Then we’re in agreement? You are aware of what will happen if you break the contract?” He warned. You nodded.

“I’m aware, trust me.” You wiggled your fingers impatiently. Zhongli placed the gems into your hand one at time, being sure not to chip or scratch them.

“Then it is done. I won’t be truly satisfied until you’ve signed a physical contract and we’ve made it official, but I will hold onto your word for the time being.” He helped your hand close around the gems, both of his own hands wrapped tightly around your clenched digits. “Find me at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor later tonight, and we can document our arrangement.”

“Sure thing, boss.” You pulled your hand away, the sensation of the gems in your grasp bringing you far more ease than you were happy with. To be so dependent on them made you nauseous, but Zhongli’s willingness to help made it a little less so. Although, you couldn’t help but to wonder why he was so quick to help. “Why are you doing this for me?”

“Is it not human nature to want to help?”

“I guess, but.  .  . there aren’t many that are as open and willing as you are. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful. It’s just unexpected. I didn’t think today would end the way it would.” You squirreled away the gems in your satchel, slung it over your shoulders, then affixed your claymore onto your back.

“Are you disappointed?” Zhongli calmly watched you pack up, head tilted slightly.

“Not at all.” You spared him a smile, a weight gradually lifting off your heart and shoulders. “I was annoyed at first, but I’m glad we got to meet, Mr. Zhongli.”

Another peel of soft laughter left the man, but it was hidden behind the side of his hand. “Then I will readily admit that I wasn’t expecting you to say that. I’m relieved you were so willing to cooperate, and.  .  . I am glad we had the chance to meet as well.”

You bounced once on the tips of your feet and gave him a mock salute. “Guess that means I’ll be seein’ you later! I’m going to pass these gems on, then I’ll pop by your place to sign my life away!”

You didn’t address the crinkle in his face at your jest, but you did snicker as you fled the island. Only when you were well out of sight did Gimel return, its core open to the air and nudging against Zhongli’s elbow.

The archon reached back to give the hypostasis a gentle stroke, but his eyes remained in the direction you had wandered off in.

“I have a feeling that our time with her will be very interesting.”

[beardrabbles]

THIN ICE

rating: k

words: 1796

characters: female stark reader, peter parker, tony stark

notes: ( ao3 request ) I deleted the chapter with the request like the dummy I am, but the gist of it was reader is a Stark, and Peter is frightened of Tony after learning that. Been a while, but I’m glad to be writing for you all again! :D

tags: none

“Weather’s nice…”

“Mhmm.”

“Would really suck if it was raining.”

“Yeah, it would.”

You spare a moment to glance at the boy beside you and find him muttering quietly to himself, the tone reprimanding and self-depreciating. Without meaning to, you giggled. You had fully anticipated waiting alone on the edge of the street, but another had arrived not long after you had. Clearly, the ones that had promised to pick you up were late, forcing awkward interaction between you and the one with splotchy, red cheeks. Although, now that you were getting a longer look at him — with his pushed back hair and his kind eyes — something about him seemed familiar.

“I feel like I’ve seen you before, but I don’t remember you being in any of my classes.” You turned to him, giving him your undivided attention. “Have we met before?”

The boy chuckled nervously and gave his lean shoulders a shrug. “I don’t think we have. I mean, aside from now. Now we’ve met.”

“Have we?” You arched a brow, and it only made him redder still. “Cause it still doesn’t feel like I know who you are.”

“Oh, yeah! Parker. Uh, Peter.” He held a hand out and smiled twitchily.

“Peter Parker? Nice to meet you. My name is (Y/N).” You were sure to avoid saying your last name, and he didn’t seem to catch that. Your first name was enough to make his eyes light up and his posture slacken even after you placed your hand in his.

“(Y/N). That’s a nice name.” He shook your hand for a second too long, but was prompt in dropping it after he realized how long he’d held it for. “You waiting for someone to pick you up?”

“Yeah, my dad.” You rolled your eyes and looked down both ends of the street, but didn’t spot the car you knew your father was driving. There was always the possibility it would blend in, except your father’s car was far from dusty or rusty or average. You knew for an absolute fact that you’d recognize it from miles away, and you had yet to see it after waiting nearly an hour. “Figures he’d be late.”

“I dunno, I’m kind of glad he’s late. Wouldn’t have been able to talk to you if he got here on time.” Peter became flushed again, and so did you. “Hey, I know this is sudden, but would you wanna hang out with me and my friends tomorrow? We were going to get pizza and relax a little before tests start next week.”

“Relaxing before tests? No studying?”

“It’s Ned’s idea, and I think he’s right. We can only study so much, and pizza’s good.” Peter laughed, and you joined in soon after.

“He is right. Y’know, I’ve been here for about a week and I’ve done nothing but run around. Keeping up with my classes, getting used to being in a new state, new school, not knowing anyone — it’s a pain. I think vegging out over some pizza would do me some good.”

“Great! Here.” Peter fished out his phone and handed it over. “So I can tell you where we’re meeting.”

“Good idea.” He didn’t give you the impression that he was doing this just to get your number, but you would have given it to him either way. Peter seemed nice and a little dorky, but you knew you could be too.

You tapped your number into his phone, and he was quick to send you a text so you could add his number in exchange. The single pizza slice emoji elicited a giggle before you put your phone away. “So, are you waiting for someone too?”

Peter nodded and began to rock on the soles of his sneakers. “Yeah! My mentor’s got something planned for me, and he said he’d pick me up today to make things easier.”

“Mentor? Are you an intern?” You would have been more surprised, but most of the students you now shared a school with were smart enough to own their own business.

“It’s not a big deal.” Peter shrugged modestly and looked down at his feet. “It’s just some big, hot-shot guy. Super cool. His tech is beyond what I expected. Loads smarter than me, but he’s teaching me so much. He’s kind of the best, but I think he already knows that.”

“Not a big deal, huh?” You laughed and nudged him with your shoulder. “He sounds pretty great. Who is it?”

“Oh, uh... You’ve heard of him. Everyone has.” His hesitation was endearing but ill timed. As he struggled with the balance between modesty and excited bragging, a car pulled up alongside the street. The slick, black exterior still managed to glisten despite the overcast sky and the looming threat for rain. The windows were tinted, of course, but you knew who sat in the driver’s seat.

“Looks like Dad finally decided to show up.” You adjusted the pack on your back and grinned towards Peter, but all you saw was confusion.

“Dad? But that’s Mr. Stark’s car.”

It was your turn to look at him strangely. “Mr. Stark? You sound like one of the people that works for him.”

“I don’t work for him, but——”

“He idolizes me.” Tony stepped out of the car, a cheeky smirk on his lips. “Who doesn’t?” 

You wanted to groan loudly at your father’s mountain sized ego, but you had less self-centered people to talk to at the moment. Addressing Peter again, you had only one question. “Let me guess, he’s the mentor you were talking about?”

“He never told me he had a daughter!” Peter balked.

“You never asked.” Tony countered. He moved around the nose of the car, brown eyes peering over the tops of his sunglasses. “I had a feeling you two would run into each other eventually.”

“How come I haven’t run into her while working with you?” Peter looked between the two of you, spotting minor similarities in posture, facial structure and ( now that the two of you were speaking ) the cadence in speech.

“Because I’m not his shadow, as much as he’d love for me to be.” You pass him a smile, but it was too sweet and clearly fake. The smile he gave you in return was soft and genuine, a rare sight. An arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you in, his facial hair rough against your temple where he placed a loving, fatherly kiss.

“She’s got her own plans. Whether they follow mine or they go in an entirely different direction doesn’t matter. She’s a Stark! She’s destined to be the best in any field!” He bragged, giving your shoulders an extra squeeze before releasing you. You were flush under his praise, and you had to wonder what you’d done to deserve such an accepting father.

“This.  .  . is weird.” Peter frowned, and it caused both you and Tony to raise an eyebrow in such a way that it only weirded him out more that you two were so alike.

“What’s weird about it?” Tony asked.

“I just asked her ou——” Peter sucked in a breath, paused with his mouth open, then clamped his lips shut. Sadly, it was too late. Tony tensed beside you, and you felt the need to leap forward and protect Peter from the sudden shift in atmosphere.

“He wanted me to hang out with him and his friends.” You quickly amended.

Tony licked behind his lower lip and shoved his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans, his whole posture threatening. There was a moment of silence, but it somehow still felt noisy with the sheer amount of thoughts rolling around in Tony’s head.

“Him and his friends, or just him?” The question he posed felt like it was meant for you, but his dark eyes remained on Peter. Because of this, you kept your mouth shut and let him answer.

“Mr. Stark, you know I’d never——”

“Alone or with friends, Parker?” The sharp jab of his last name made Peter flinch.

“With friends! You know them. I’ve told you about them. Ned and MJ wanted to get pizza and hang out, but we haven’t picked a place yet. So we exchanged numbers so I could tell her when we did. I swear, it’s just to chill out before testing next week.” He sounded pleading, and it annoyed you — not because the pleading itself bothered you, but because your father was causing it.

“Dad, get back in the freakin’ car.” You grabbed his arm and turned him around, hands pushing at his back. He didn’t fight you off, but he did raise his hands while complaining.

“You’re dismissing your own father? I’m hurt, (Y/N). I never thought a boy would be more important than family.” He followed along as he was lead back to the driver side door.

“You are an actual menace. Leave us alone. I’m a big girl, and I want friends.” Once you neared the door, you lowered your voice so only he could hear. “You know him, right? Is he alright?”

“He’s more than alright.” Tony whispered back. “He’s one of the smartest kids I’ve met, aside from you. A little on a dweeb side, but you could make worse friends. Don’t tell him I said that, you I’m docking your allowance.”

“You won’t.” You smiled and bit at your lip. “So I can go with him?”

“Only if I’m allowed to mess with him a little more.” Perfectly white teeth were flashed in a cheeky grin. “I think I freaked him out.”

“I think so too.” You suppressed the urge to laugh and stepped back. “But you’re an actual butthead.”

“I know.” Tony winked, then put on another severe expression that he directed towards Peter. Sharply and menacingly, he motioned with two fingers that he would be keeping his eyes on the young hero. Peter stammered again, but Tony had already folded himself into the driver’s seat.

You moved around the car again and stopped in front of Peter, a spring in your step.

“Text me when you’ve got it figured out. I wanna come along.” You smiled shyly and nudged your shoulder against his. “See you, Peter!”

Peter lifted a hand in farewell, but made it a point to avoid looking anywhere in Tony’s direction. “Yeah! See you. Later. Tomorrow.”

You fled into the car, but rolled your window down at the request of your father. He leaned across you and shouted through the window as he slowly rolled the car forward.

“Watch yourself, Parker! I’ll know if you try anything!”

And with that, you and your father drove away, leaving Peter to panic on his own.