mellow-rosemallow

[mellow-rosemallow]

LEAN ON ME, TOO

pairing: dad-to-be & husband! cyno, kaedehara kazuha, shikanoin heizou, wriothesley, varka x fem! reader

cw: pregnancy. it may be slightly ooc to fit the plot. domesticity and fluff. not beta-read. based on that tiktok trend where husbands lift up their pregnant wives' belly. about varka: written before nod-krai.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

CYNO

The soft tick of the clock on the wall was the only sound filling the quiet house.

Outside, the early evening breeze in Sumeru rustled through the canopies of the tall palm trees, scattering leaves across the sandy ground and casting shadows across the walls.

Inside, however, you stood at the kitchen's counter with one hand gripping its edge, the other massaging your lower back with a slow, deliberate motion. Your breathing was shallow, sharp around the edges; like every inhale fought for space under the weight pressing down from within you.

The twins were restless again.

Their kicks came like waves—uneven, unpredictable—testing the limits of your already strained body. Your belly, stretched full and heavy, felt like a boulder strapped to your front. Your ankles ached, your hips throbbed. And your back… oh, your poor back!, burned as if someone had taken a blade and pressed it between your vertebrae, just to see how long you’d endure.

And you weren’t even doing much. Not anymore, actually. The bag full of Zaytun Peaches you meant to put away had been sitting on the counter untouched for the past ten minutes. Your tasks had blurred into a fog of discomfort. You just stood there—frowning into nothing and feeling the pain running through your bones.

And gods know how much you hated this feeling.

You hated the way your body betrayed you lately. You were a warrior—strong, proud, used to pushing through pain. But pregnancy showed you it was a different battlefield. One where endurance wasn’t measured by brute strength, but by how long you could quietly suffer without snapping.

Across the room, Cyno was staring at you—and he had been doing it for a while now. He never said anything. Not out of neglect, no, but caution.

He always stayed behind watching you though.

Watching the way your fingers trembled when they gripped the countertop too long. The way your shoulders sagged, tight with tension. The tiny winces you tried to hide when you adjusted your stance. The subtle war you fought in silence.

He also hated it.

He knew you wouldn’t ask for help—not out loud, knowing you.

And yet, it wasn't like you need to.

Earlier that week, while escorting a former sage through the city, the General Mahamatra overheard two older women chatting in a sunlit corner of the Grand Bazaar. One of them had been reminiscing about her own pregnancy—how her husband used to lift her belly up from behind, and how even just a few seconds of relief could feel like heaven.

“I could’ve kissed the man to death every time he did it,” she had laughed with her friend.

The memory returned to Cyno now, as if summoned by instinct.

And then, without a word, he approached you.

His footsteps were soft, deliberate, the kind only a seasoned hunter could make. You didn’t notice him until he was directly behind you. Barely turning your head, you offered him a tired glance.

“What is it?” you mumbled.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, his hands reached forward—slowly, respectfully—and slid under the curve of your belly. Not abruptly, nor carelessly. But with purpose and reverence.

And then… he lifted.

You gasped.

Your eyes flew open, mouth parting in stunned silence as the weight—the crushing, exhausting, soul-bending weight—vanished.

“Oh praise be to Deshret, Lord of the deserts!”

Your knees nearly buckled from the instant relief, your lungs expanded like they hadn’t in days, your spine, once compressed and burning, felt loose, as if the pain had been scrubbed away with a single breath.

You blinked, dazed, overwhelmed by how good it felt.

It was like surfacing from under water after holding your breath till your limit.

Cyno adjusted his hold, lifting gently but firmly, holding your bump as though it were sacred.

And to him—it was.

You let out a noise. A laugh? A sob? Something between the two, he guessed.

“Why didn’t I know you could do this?” you whispered.

“I didn’t either,” Cyno said softly, his lips near your ear. “But I heard someone mention it and I’ve been waiting for the right moment to try.”

“Oh, this is definitely the right moment,” you breathed, shutting your eyes.

You stood like that, surrounded by fading sunlight and the soft murmur of the wind outside. You, once tense and withdrawn, now leaned back into him, your hands resting over his, your breath steady and light. Your whole demeanor had shifted—like the pain hadn’t just lifted from your body, but from your soul.

“Cyno, habibi,” you whispered after a while, voice low. “This is the best thing you’ve ever done.”

“Better than challenging your uncle to a duel for your hand in marriage?” He teased gently, a smile just barely playing at the edge of his voice.

You chuckled briefly and nodded without hesitation, “Absolutely. I felt that proposal in my heart. But this? I feel it in my spine.”

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’ll do it whenever you need me to.”

“Then I might drag you to follow me everywhere like this for the rest of the pregnancy,” you murmured.

“Then I will.”

There was no sarcasm in his tone, no teasing. Only promises.

You turned your head just enough to see his face over your shoulder, your expression shining now—soft and glowing in a way that only deep love could bring. Your pain wasn’t gone, not forever, but for that one perfect moment, you weren’t carrying them alone.

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

The late afternoon sun filtered through the shoji screens, casting golden squares across the wooden floor of the Kaedehara household. The smell of simmering rice and miso broth drifted through the air, warm and comforting.

You stood barefoot at the kitchen counter, sleeves rolled up, carefully slicing vegetables for dinner. Your movements were steady but slow—every step, every twist of your back, each reach for the cutting board made your body ache. Your belly, full and round with your baby daughter, felt heavier than ever.

You exhaled through your nose as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, the dull ache in your lower back stubbornly pulsing.

Kiyomi had been a whirlwind from the beginning.

Unlike Kazumi, who had been much calmer while in the womb, this little one seemed to never stop. Kicks, rolls, stretches, hiccups. Constant movement, vibrating every cell in your body.

You loved your daughter with all your heart, you really do, but Kiyomi’s restless nature had taken its toll. Every morning, you awoke with stiffness in your hips, and every night you collapsed into bed aching and sore.

And now, just standing here, chopping carrots, you could feel the strain pulling at your spine.

You paused, your knife hovering in midair, and closed your eyes. Your hands went instinctively to the underside of your belly, fingers curling under the curve, as if to hold it up—just for a second. Just enough to—

Suddenly, a familiar presence moved behind you.

Without a word, warm hands slid gently beneath your stomach, lifting it just enough to take the weight off your tired frame.

You inhaled sharply at the unexpected sensation—not from pain, but from instant, glorious relief. Your back relaxed. Your shoulders dropped. Your knees, which had been quietly trembling, felt steady again.

“Oh…” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut. “Oh, Archons. Kazu… that feels amazing…”

Kazuha’s chuckle was soft against your ear. “I thought it might.”

You felt him behind you fully now—his chest pressed to your back, his arms cradling your belly with the utmost care. It was a tender, reverent hold, not just of the weight of your child, but of you.

“I’ve been watching you,” he whispered after a long pause. “You hide it well, my love. But I see the way your legs tremble at the end of the day. How you try to stretch out the pain in your lower back when you think no one is looking. The way you wince when you stand up too quickly.”

You opened your eyes slowly, blinking away tears you hadn’t realized were forming.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” you admitted softly, your voice thick. “You already do so much for me, for Kazumi. I can manage this.”

“I know you can,” he said, smiling gently into the curve of your shoulder. “You always manage. But you don’t have to carry all of it alone.”

He adjusted his hold slightly, lifting your belly just a bit higher. The change made you sigh in relief again, the tension unwinding from your spine like a string being gently released.

“I wish I could carry her for a while,” he murmured. “Give you a day of rest. Even if just an hour. Just to feel what you feel. You’re incredible, (Y/N).”

You laughed softly through your tears, leaning back into him, letting his warmth and his scent—maple leaves and rain-dampened wood—envelop you.

“I feel like she is going to come out running any time, at this point,” you joked, one hand resting on Kazuha’s where he supported your belly. “She never stops moving.”

“She takes that after you,” he replied, the corner of his mouth curving. “Stubborn. Determined. Full of will.”

You turned your head to look at him over your shoulder, your eyes meeting his. “Then I'm glad she has someone like you to teach her that it's okay to stop and breathe,” you whispered.

You stayed like that for several moments. The stove ticked softly, and outside, Kazumi’s voice could be heard giggling faintly in the garden as he played with his kite. Time paused for just this moment. A rare, quiet breath of peace.

Eventually, you exhaled again and said, “I think I could stand like this forever.”

Kazuha chuckled under his breath and placed a couple of kisses on the edge of your warm skin. “Allow me to stand here forever.”

You smiled, eyes soft with emotion, “Thank you… for everything.”

“Any time, dove.”

SHIKANOIN HEIZOU

The rain outside tapped gently against the windows of your home, soft and steady, like a lullaby. Steam curled from a nearby teacup left forgotten on the table, and the low hum of the kettle on the stove whispered in the background.

The late afternoon air smelled of matcha, petrichor, and fresh ink—from some of your notes and case files still scattered across the table where you’d been working earlier.

Now, you stood at the kitchen sink, carefully washing a stack of dishes, your sleeves damp from the splashes of soapy water.

Your back ached. Your ankles throbbed. Your belly, round, full, and ever-growing with the life of your son, felt like it had doubled in weight overnight.

And to worsen, Ren wasn’t a still baby.

He kicked constantly, stretched, squirmed, pressed tiny feet against your ribs like he was testing your patience from the inside. Your body felt foreign, heavy, overworked. You prided yourself on your independence, your strength—but lately, even standing for ten minutes had become a challenge.

You shifted your weight, arching your back slightly to ease the pressure, and let out a breath that was more contained irritation than relief.

“Mm-mm… is this the part where you finally admit I was right?” a familiar, teasing voice said behind you.

You startled slightly and glanced over your shoulder. Heizou leaned lazily against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on his lips. His shirt was half-buttoned, hair a little damp from the bath, a white towel still around his neck and his eyes sparkled with mischief.

“About what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow despite the ache in your back.

“That you’re doing too much,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward you with measured, cat-like steps. “I’ve been telling you—sit down, rest, let me handle it. But no. Shikanoin (Y/N)’s gotta finish the dishes because it's just a few plates.”

“They were just a few,” you said, though your hands were trembling slightly from fatigue. “And you were reading. All afternoon. Then went straight ahead for an even longer bath.”

“Well, yes. But I was reading because someone told me not to hover while she works,” he shot back playfully.

He came to a stop behind you, and his teasing tone softened as he looked at the curve of your back, the slight way you winced when you reached for another plate. Without another word, he gently placed his hands on your hips, stepped in close, and then slowly, carefully, slid his hands beneath the swell of your belly.

“What you—” you began.

“Shh. Just trust me.”

His hands cupped and lifted your bump upward—just slightly, just enough to take the pressure off your spine.

You gasped—actually gasped—because the relief was immediate. Your whole body relaxed, your shoulders drooped, and your eyes fluttered shut with a breathless “Oh...” that made Heizou chuckle low behind you.

“There it is,” he murmured, pleased with himself. “That’s the sound of a woman realizing her genius husband is, in fact, full of good ideas.”

You let out a shaky laugh, tilting your head back slightly to rest against his shoulder. “Okay, okay... you get one point.”

Heizou's smile softened, and his voice dropped to a quiet murmur. “You carry him all day, every day. Rely a little bit on me, (Y/N).”

His grip stayed steady, lifting the weight of your son off your tired frame. For once, you allowed yourself to truly melt into it. Into him.

“I hate that I need the help,” you confessed after a moment, voice barely above a whisper.

Heizou leaned down and pressed a kiss to the curve of your shoulder, then another just behind your ear. “Needing help doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human. It makes you mine to protect. To support.”

You smiled faintly, your fingers brushing over his as they supported your belly together. “You’re right… He’s getting heavier every day, you know…”

Heizou chuckled. “That’s because he’s obviously building muscle. Kid must be training for his first case already.”

“He’s probably training because he wants to kick his annoying dad’s ass.”

“Hey! Now, that wasn’t very nice of you, love” he said, mock-defensively. “He adores me already. You should’ve seen how excited he got last time I read him that thriller romance.”

You laughed loudly and felt your body relax even more in his arms.

“I mean it,” Heizou murmured after a beat. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, (Y/N). Not strength, not stamina, not toughness. You’ve already done the impossible—you’re bringing our son into this world. Let me be the one who takes care of you.”

You turned slightly to look up at him, eyes glossy, lips curved. “You already do. Even when you’re being a pain.”

Heizou grinned and kissed you—softly, sweetly.

“I love you,” he whispered against your skin.

“I love you too.”

VARKA

The kettle was whistling.

You moved to take it off the stove, slow and steady, as you often had to be these days. The baby had been sitting low today—not uncomfortably so, but enough to pull a soft sound from you when you moved too quickly.

You exhaled as you poured the hot water over the tea leaves, steam curling around your face like a silken veil.

From the next room came the sound of boots being unbuckled and shrugged off. The ones that usually thudded into the floor with impatience, with fire, with purpose. But today, they moved carefully, slowly as if their owner didn’t want to wake something fragile.

You didn't turn when you heard the door creak, nor when a large, loud silhouette made its presence known. Instead, you smiled softly, your eyes still fixed on the steam rising from the mugs.

“If this is how you sneak around enemy camps, then I'm not surprised why you always end up in conflict situations.” you said.

A low chuckle answered you. “Was I that loud?”

“You’re like a lawachurl, babe.”

A few slow steps later and he was behind you, arms slipping gently around your waist. The embrace was familiar, steadying. Warm breath stirred the hair behind your ear.

“I’ve only got a week,” he murmured. “And yet you still find a way to point out the mistakes on my espionage methods. Tsc. And here I was just wanting to make every minute count, ya know.”

You chuckled and leaned back slightly into the contact, your hand brushing his along your side. “I know,” you said simply.

There was always a weight to these moments — not sadness exactly, but something quieter. You were a knight, just like Varka. You understood the call of duty, understood that when he left again, it wasn’t because he wanted to but because people were counting on him.

Still, the house always felt colder when he was gone.

“Let me see you, pretty girl,” he said, already sliding a hand down to your hips.

You let him, shifting your weight slightly as he help you to turn around to face him. His touch was slow, reverent, his expression lines drawing together in something close to admiration. He didn’t rush—not when it came to you.

His hands, broad and sure, settled beneath the curve of your belly. Then, gently, he lifted.

A soft gasp escaped your lips, your body instinctively relaxing as the pressure eased from your back and hips.

Varka looked down you immediately.

“Better?” he asked, voice hushed.

You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed. “Much better.”

“Why didn’t you tell me it was weighing on you like this?”

You smiled, just a little. “Because if I told you every time I was uncomfortable, you’d carry me around in a damn wheelbarrow.”

“I would,” he said with complete seriousness. “Or I’d build you something better. With velvet cushions, a crystal awning and maybe a little bell so you could call me whenever you want.”

You laughed loudly this time, then winced—not from pain, just from the small strain of laughing while held like this.

“I’m not that helpless,” you said, but there was no biting to it.

Varka leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours as he continued holding the bump, relieving you of the weight like it was second nature. “No. You’re not,” he murmured. “But even the strongest of knights deserve to rest.”

His fingers shifted slightly, still cradling your belly with steady care. Then, as the baby moved—a soft flutter just under the skin—his entire expression changed.

He went still as his eyes widening and his voice lost its capacity to make a sound.

“That was—” he started, then paused, breath catching. “I felt them.”

“You did,” you giggled.

He looked at you as if he had just discovered where stars were born: behind the sparkle in your eyes, in your smile.

“I missed so much already,” he said softly. “I hate that.”

You lifted your hand to his cheek. “You’re here now, Var. That’s what matters to me. To them.”

He leaned into your palm for a moment, then dipped down without a word, kissing the curve of your belly with reverence.

“Hey there, little one,” he murmured. “It’s your old man. I’m sorry I can’t be here every day but I’ll be back as soon as I can. I swear it.”

Your hand settled over his, grounding you both.

“You’re doing your job, babe,” you said. “Same way I'd if it were me out there.”

He stood again, towering—still keeping you close. His hands remained on your belly, protective and steady. You rested your head against his chest, the beat of his heart strong beneath your ear.

“I’ve never wanted to stay more than I do now,” he said into your hair.

“I know.”

He held you a little closer, and you didn’t stop him.

You stood like that for a long while; held in silence, and something stronger than time.

WRIOTHESLEY

The fortress was quiet, for once.

A rare lull between reports, inspections, and the ever-rotating roster of maintenance work. The iron hum of the lower levels had softened into a low, distant murmur, like a tired sigh easing into sleep. 

Wriothesley had been reading something at his desk—well, attempting to—but his attention had long since drifted to the sound of soft footsteps padding across the duke's office.

You moved with that gentle rhythm he’d grown to adore—part grace, part stubbornness. Even now, belly rounding with the growing weight of your next chapter, you carried yourself as lit fire; quieter but still burning. 

However, there was the occasional pause, he observed. A tiny wince at your lower back, the momentary press of a hand just beneath your ribs, a deep and soundly breath like you've been trying to contain something within yourself. 

You were trying to hide it, as always.

“You’re pacing again, sweetheart,” Wriothesley called from his seat, his voice low and edged with amusement.

“I’m thinking,” you replied simply, not looking his way.

“You think best when you’re sitting down.”

You gave him a look. That look. The one that always dared him to try you, and never failed to make his lips curl into a knowing smirk or his heart stutter like a fool.

With a huff of a smile, he stood and crossed the room, long strides swallowing the distance between you before you could object. His hands, warm and calloused from years of fighting and metal, settled gently at your sides.

“Let me guess,” he murmured, ducking slightly to meet your eyes. “You’re not tired. You’re not sore. You’re just… what? Restless?”

You tilted your chin up, defiant. “I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”

“You’re lying.”

“You’re annoying.”

He grinned. “Maybe. But that proves I’m not wrong.”

Before you could get another word in, your husband slipped one arm around your waist and the other beneath the swell of your belly, palms spreading wide to support the gentle curve. He lifted—carefully, easily—just enough to ease the pressure off your spine.

You let out an involuntary breath, eyes fluttering half-closed.

“Oh…That’s—” you exhaled, briefly losing your train of thought. “You did that on purpose.”

“Sure did, ma’am.”

He leaned in, brushing his nose along your temple, lips grazing the edge of your cheekbone with the barest pressure. “You hide it well, but I know the signs. The shift in your stance. That little crease between your brows. We've been through this before, (Y/N).”

“Show-off,” you muttered, but the way you melted into him gave you away.

His large hands splayed protectively across your bump, thumbs absently stroking slow, lazy circles as if your child might feel it from within. He loved doing that—touching you there, holding the proof of your shared future like it was made of gold and light.

“You’re heavier than you look,” he teased gently, lifting just a touch higher before settling back into a better angle.

“Excuse you?”

“I meant the baby,” he said, chuckling against your ear. “I swear on my life, darling,” he emphasized as his eyes met your narrow, razor-sharp gaze. 

Saved by the bell, you guess.

“Though you’ve always packed more punch than people expect.”

You rolled your eyes, though it came with a faint smile. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“I’m lucky you love me,” he corrected softly, his voice a low murmur now. “And that you let me help. Even if you pretend you don’t need it.”

You stayed quiet for a moment—not resisting his hold, nor pulling him away. Just letting him lift the weight, the literal and the otherwise, like you finally believed he’d always be there to carry it with you.

When you did speak, it was quieter. Almost reverent.

“You make all my burdens feel smaller.”

Wriothesley melted. 

Though so simple, that admission of yours unspooled something tight inside his chest. 

He lowered you slowly, letting the bump settle back into place, his hands never fully leaving you.

“Good,” he said as he helped you turn around to face him. “As your husband, that’s just a small of my many duties to you.”

Then, Wriothesley leaned in and kissed you, slow and tender. There’s no rush. Just warmth, just love. One hand at your back, the other still resting against the place where your baby slept. Your own hand placed on where his heartbeats played as a soft lullaby.

And for a long, quiet moment, the Fortress of Meropide held nothing but the sound of your soft laughter, the feel of his hands, and the quiet rhythm of a life you were building.

[mellow-rosemallow]

sorry i havent been posting much! i actually just dont have many ideas atm, and im kinda at a standstill on my current oneshot so i think ill start a different one. btw im planning on possibly writing for kpop demon hunters (mainly saja boys), so if anybody else has any requests on that or genshin, pls send them in! thank you!

[mellow-rosemallow]

i think i need a camera. my phone isn’t capturing what my eyes are seeing 🥲

or I can just draw the stuff. that works too.

[mellow-rosemallow]

Jousting AU idea: Mondstadt to celebrate a tradition from it's rich history will put on a jousting tournament every few years for the entertainment of onlookers. As one of the knights fundraising events they typically get their own members involved. How do you think each knight would do? If they received a favor from their "lady" (partner) how would they react? Would there be any surprising match ups?

This is all predicated on pretending Kaeya got left with a decent amount of the cavalry. I can totally see Diluc entering this competition with some sort of alter ego.

oooooo wait i love this! feels fitting for a medieval-inspired city like mondstadt hehe

location:

i think the event would be held at windrise. not under venessa’s tree, but right infront of it on the flattest patch of land found (maybe on the trail). there’s probably a bunch of vendors and merchants there, plus the majority of the citizens of mondstadt + maybe a few visiting tourists. so a big open area near an iconic landmark would be a great place to hold the event!

competing knights:

kaeya:

-as the calvery captain, probably has the best shot at winning + most likely wins the tournament. kinda predictable, but I mean his job is working with horses 😅.

-I feel like his vibe would be comparable to a prince if ykwim. i might just be saying this bc ive only ever seen jousting being associated with nobles and the such, but his knightly/gentleman-ness would be very evident during the tournament/

-as commonly known, kaeya is very popular among the ladies, and I see him receiving multiple favors from multiple women (hopefully just admirers). he’d appreciate them, but pay no mind unless his own partner gave him a favor. the gift would certainly put a warm smile on his face, probably making a couple others jealous.

diluc:

-oh, he goes against kaeya in the last match. why do I choose this? bc it’s interesting lmao.

-as for the alter ego thing, I think he’d just enter as himself. going in as an alter ego might make ppl think “hey this guy kinda reminds me of the darknight hero” or smth of the sort. atleast someone is bound to get curious about who this guy is, and in such a large event I feel diluc would think it to be an unnecessary risk. plus, if this is a fundraising event I don’t think he’d mind getting involved with the knights for once.

-he receives a favor from donna. are we surprised? i mean, her fawning over diluc is literally the first thing we hear when we walk through the city gates 😭 —jokes aside, he’d thank her for the gift. now, if his relationship with his partner isn’t public, then he’d probably accept the gift in private. if not, then I don’t see him receiving a favor from donna at all. as much of a simp she is, i don’t think she’s a homewrecker (i hope).

jean:

-(i wasnt sure if women in jousting was a thing, but a google search tells me it is and ngl i kinda wanna try it for funsies lol)

-ah yes, jean gunnhildr. the one who organized the majority of the event and probably would’ve stayed on business for the entirety of it if it weren’t for some convincing from other knights.

-does rlly well in the tournament. no suprise, she’s the acting grandmaster.

-i find the idea of her being matched up with diluc or eula entertaining. it’s mostly just a vibe with eula bc they’re both serious knights, and with its literally two of mondstadt a best heroes against eachother. the citizens don’t know that abt diluc, but we know and that’s what makes it interesting!

-receiving a favor from her partner would be very touching for her. she keeps it after the event, and displays it somewhere in her home or office, glancing at it every so often.

-also, she reminds venti of venessa ALOT during the tournament. just a side thought :)

eula:

-as i’ve stated earlier, i think she gets placed against jean. it’d be awesome. this is canon. I’d also like to see her getting paired against kaeya. I mean, it’s two cryo captains!

-besides jean, i think she’d get paired with noelle and thinks of her as an equal opponent bc of her sheer strength and resilience. they haven’t rlly interacted much in story, but from what ive seen, noelle has GOT to be seen as a formidable force.

-pretty chill about receiving a favor. probably says smth along the lines of, “you didn’t need to do this, but thank you”.

noelle:

-she’s very hyped and excited for the tournament, and gets extremely far in the competition— even defeats a few of the captains before getting beat by eula.

-intensely intimidates other competitors. I emphasize this bc her appearance and personality canonically makes her look very unintimidating while she has the power to pummel a lawachurl.

-thanks her partner a BUNCH upon receiving a favor, and like jean, she probably preserves and displays it in a clean spot of her home (saying that as if any spot of her home isn’t clean).

ofc, other captains and knights participate but I can’t write abt them bc they’re all npcs :,D

not participating knights:

albedo:

-sticks around and watches with sucrose and klee. I really don’t see him participating in smth like this, but if he did, he’d do pretty good.

-is interested in the event, but it’s mostly just klee that’s keeping him outside instead of his office lol.

-convinces klee that she is NOT supposed to participate in jousting just yet.

sucrose:

-hangs with albedo, but also wanders around the event location.

-according to her character story, she’s fascinated by things around her so she’d probably take advantage of the opportunity to observe a sport like jousting.

-I see her closely analyzing the knights and the differing techniques and what worked best. she’d never participate herself, but knowledge is knowledge lmao

klee:

-wants to participate in the jousting, but doesn’t understand why she can’t.

-she gets upset she can’t compete, but gets over it super quick while watching the matches. she is a very hyped happy child :D

-she also hangs around other knights like amber and mika while they take her around the event areas.

-I also see her making a bunch of decorative personalized handkerchiefs and flower wreathes to ALL the knights, she’s just thoughtful like that 🥹

-emphasis on ALL knights. I think she’d feel bad for the less popular knights and notice they they aren’t getting as many gifts as the captains 😭

amber:

-I don’t think she’d participate bc she volunteered to keep watch around the area. since the event is being held in windrise instead of the city, there’s bound to be a couple hilichurl camps nearby.

-when she’s not keeping watch, she’s observing the matches with the rest of the knights and walking around with klee!

-definitely takes the time to help klee make her gifts, and also makes a few herself :)

mika:

-cheers on his brother during the match!!

-ngl I dont think he’s going anywhere while the matches are going on, he’d be too locked in.

-still, he’d sit and hang around klee while they talk about the competing knights.

-he’d also probably scout with Amber for monster camps.

lisa:

-she’d watch the matches, but she’d probably be seen lounging around somewhere drinking tea or snacking while chatting.

-more of an indoor person, but she wouldn’t want to miss out. so she’s probably sitting under an umbrella.

-Also I think she’d manage the professional business side of things while Jean competes.

[mellow-rosemallow]

HAPPY JULY FOURTH

AMERICAAAAAA 🦅🦅🦅🦅🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

[mellow-rosemallow]

mama nature has GOT to be upset bc tell me why the weather in pa is going crazy??? two weeks ago i needed a jacket, and now all of a sudden we’re in 90 degree weather. oh but not anymore, because ITS FREAKING POURING OUTSIDE. I CAN STEP OUTSIDE WITH SHAMPOO AND CONDITIONER RIGHT NOW AND GET THE SAME RESULTS FROM AN INDOOR SHOWER.

i thought april showers brought may flowers. I thought we were over rainy season already after over a week of nonstop rain. but ig not. apparently its not humid enough.

[mellow-rosemallow]

remember the poison ivy growing on my fence?

yeah me too. may it rest in peace.

[mellow-rosemallow]

theres poison ivy growing on my backyard fence, so my dad’s been aggressively spraying it with a potion consisting of ingredients like dish soap, vinegar, and salt. its very effective (all the grass around it turned gray and dead in a night). 🙂‍↕️

[mellow-rosemallow]

hey so you know How Venti and Zhongli are still getting used to living like humans. And they have weird tendencies. So how do you think they’d deal with coming to hang out with s group of friends which their human crush is a part of and they stumble on the group in the middle of the conversation and then the topic changes to these boys having done something weird again today and a “This is the guy you’re crushing on. It’s cute. I guess that’s someone for everybody” to reader. And readers like “Yep. I see him do certain things myself and I’m just like: yep. I’m in love with this dork”?

Omg them adjusting to their new lives as humans is smth that occasionally pops into my mind— like sometimes if im bored or trying to go to sleep I’ll think abt a random character’s daily/weekly routine and venti just happens to be a regular person I think abt lol. It makes the genshin experience sm more enjoyable and interactive (for me at least) 😌

Upon overhearing reader’s conversation, I can see them short-circuiting and wondering to themselves if they actually heard what you said or not. Totally acts dumb as if they didn’t hear anything, just in case reader notices that they’re there.

I think venti would “inconspicuously” loiter around the area. Like for example if ur talking to your friends on the streets of the city, he probably inspects the nearby food stalls like he’s checking for poison. If ur out at a tavern, he’s fiddling with his lyre at a nearby table or drinking a bit of wine as he nosily listens in on the conversation ur having. Tbh the only way you’d miss him eavesdropping would be if you were incredibly dense. Also, the topic of the conversation being about him acting a bit strange? Totally flies over his head. He only caught the part where you said you loved him (^ - ^). And zhongli would calmly go about his day with a lifted mood and smile on his face. Hutao probably questions his happier mood, but he doesn’t give a direct answer. Is reassured that you like him back, but wonders to himself how certain mannerisms of his are see as “weird”. Probably asks a friend like hutao or one of the adepti, “do you think I’ve developed any unusual mannerisms?” and depending on their personality, zhongli will receive very different pieces of feedback.

[mellow-rosemallow]

Hiiii!!!! I’ve stumbled upon a few of your works and they’re AMAZING!!!

I was wondering if you could do a one shot solely based on Diluc and female reader. So, basically, reader is getting off her duties and stuff and decides to go to Angel Share. Luckily enough, it seems that Kaeya and another (Rosaria or Venti, or any other reasonable Mondstadt character) are also ending their nights off with a drink, or two, or many more…

Anyways, after an uncountable amount of glasses, Kaeya and the other leave first, leaving the reader there. It’s nearing the time where Angel Share closes, and Diluc (sorry I didn’t mention him early, anyways) so graciously didn’t wake reader up. When everything was tidied and the lighting was practically out, Diluc helps reader back home. But reader is too drunk to tell him where, so Diluc just takes reader to the Dawn Winery. Basically, I took inspiration from the lyric, “He holds me in his big arms, drunk and I am seeing stars.” This can probably help steer your writing when you get to the part where Diluc helps the reader. I apologize if this was a bit lengthy and bored you!

OH MY GOSH THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENT ANON 😭🙏 and this did not bother me at all! I love descriptive stuff hehehe

pairing: diluc x reader (feat. kaeya and rosaria)

content warnings: alcohol

format: oneshot

a/n: ive never had an alcoholic drink before, so i had to google some basic symptoms of drunkenness.

thud.

the heavy front doors of the knights of favonius headquarters shut behind you as you twisted and stretched in place after a long day’s work. the lamplights hummed, and faint laughter and chatter carried on the cool wind as it flowed through the city. you walked down the stone stairs, your heels clicking with each step.

as you strolled along the path, the scent of wine and the melody of local bards radiated from the angel’s share tavern. it wasn’t midnight yet, and the evening was still bright—the best time to reward your hard work with a taste of mondstadt’s finest drinks.

warm lights and the clinking of glasses sounded in your ears as you scanned the tavern for a seat, finally settling at the bartender’s counter. the familiar hum of the tavern, mixed with the murmurs of patrons enjoying their drinks, relaxed your mind. you smiled at the bartender and ordered a dandelion wine. diluc poured and slid you a glass.

the smooth liquor slid down your throat, and you sighed. to your right, two familiar faces waved in your direction.

“well, if it isn’t the workaholic! fancy seeing you here this evening!”

the sultry voice of the cavalry captain greeted you, accompanied by a sly smile, while his rose-haired companion nodded in acknowledgment. kaeya and rosaria sat down next to you, placing a bottle they were previously sharing onto the counter.

your face lit up at the sight of them. finishing your glass, kaeya immediately poured more. conversation and laughter filled the air as the night unfolded, the words of your friends creating a warm backdrop to your relaxing evening.

glass after glass, it felt as if the tavern lights were shining as brightly as the sun, their warm beams heating your face. once-clear words now blended with the clinks of glasses and the popping of bottle caps. your vision blurred as you reached for another sip. but before you could pour yourself another drink, a heavy weight settled on your eyelids, and you drifted off into a quiet slumber at the counter.

the sounds of the tavern slowly faded as closing time approached. the moon rose to its peak, and in their drunken states, patrons stumbled out of the city with their friends, smiles painted on their faces. soon, all fell silent, leaving only the soft clinking of glasses and the occasional sound of a chair scraping against the floor. mondstadt had gone to sleep, and you rested, breathing quietly against the counter.

eventually, a few shakes of your shoulder brought you back to consciousness. your eyes fluttered open, feeling disconnected from the world around you. for a moment, you forgot where you were.

diluc’s voice cut through the fog in your mind. “are you awake? where are you staying?”

the words didn’t quite register, and a moment of silence passed before you tilted your head in confusion. your eyes squinted, and diluc sighed—you couldn’t tell if it was in exasperation or concern.

he offered his hand for support, and you took it, trying to stand. but your legs wobbled beneath you, and you stumbled, falling to the wooden floor with a soft thud. diluc quickly helped you up.

“easy now,” he murmured, guiding you to the front door. but you were too disoriented to notice much, bumping into the doorframe as you both made your way outside.

diluc looked over at you with a raised brow, his eyes softening at your state. he sighed, then, with surprising gentleness, lifted you off your feet. the weightlessness made you feel like drifting back to sleep, but you fought it, blinking against the night air.

the streets of mondstadt blurred by as diluc carried you, leaving the city and its lights behind. the familiar hum of streetlights faded, replaced by the soft rustling of trees. the cool air pricked at your face, helping you sober up as you slipped in and out of consciousness.

his footsteps were rhythmic, a gentle lullaby that tugged you back into sleep. but just before you fully drifted off, you managed to glance up at his face. illuminated by moonlight, his stoic expression was as unreadable as ever, his gaze fixed ahead as he walked.

outside the vineyard, other workers glanced over, chuckling softly at the sight of their stoic master carrying someone through the night. the rough dirt beneath your feet gave way to smooth stone, and diluc approached the large doors of his home.

with ease, he pushed them open and carried you inside. his footsteps echoed on the stone floors as he made his way up the stairs. reaching a guest bedroom, he gently set you down on the bed, ensuring you were settled before turning to leave.

“adelinde,” he called softly, and the housemaid turned with a smile.

“yes, master diluc?”

“please see to their room while i’m away,” he instructed, and she nodded, smiling with a knowing look as she continued her work.

diluc paused, looking over his shoulder at her. “what’s so funny?”

adelinde chuckled and waved her hand in dismissal.

“nothing in particular, master diluc.”

i realized halfway through that everything was in lowercase, so I decided to leave it in and say it’s a stylistic choice. also, sorry that this one is a bit short!

[mellow-rosemallow]

staring at laufey concert tickets knowing I cant go bc im broke and nobody else in my family knows of her existence 🥲

[mellow-rosemallow]

Fanart of one of my favourite animated shorts Under This Luminous Sky by Emily Xu

[mellow-rosemallow]

if mondstadt boys and their partners were put into danganronpa games!

characters: albedo, bennett, diluc, kaeya, venti (sorry no dahlia or razor, i don’t know enough about their characters to depict them accurately)

warnings: death scenarios, murder, and slight spoilers for the three main dangan games.

a/n: i fr had this idea occur to me last night while packing my bags for a trip (i wrote this on top of my luggage). also, apologies if I mischaracterized anybody, feel free to share your thoughts if you feel I did :D

albedo

-he’d probably be calm on the surface, but internally he’s worried for you and klee if she’s somehow in the game.

-he’d definitely inspect food and drinks for poison.

-his analytical mind would make him suspicious of everything. not in a paranoid kinda way, more like a “we can’t take chances” way.

-albedo could totally survive on his own, but having his s/o with him would definitely influence his downfall if it were to happen.

-honestly, i see him dying protecting you somehow. i know it’s predictable, but considering how smart he is, it makes sense that this would be the only way he gets taken out.

-i don’t think albedo would be the type to become a murder victim himself— he’s quite literally too smart for that.

-I personally think he would end up committing a murder to save you.

-yk how monokuma adds in a couple random motives like money and secrets to make somebody kill?

-monokuma would threaten your life to get him to act, forcing him to make a choice— kill someone else or let you die.

-he’d use his alchemy skills to stage the murder. probably uses poison or something like that, but I also seeing him just straight up stabbing someone in the back like he did with susbedo.

-i say 50/50 chance of getting away with it.

-he’d most likely slip up on a lie, or his alibi/cover story wouldn’t add up. either that or his own partner confesses that he did it out of guilt. (sorry to albedo lovers— this is just for plot purposes 🙏)

-if his s/o were the one to commit a murder, albedo would still vote them out, no matter how painful the decision may be. he’s too logical to do otherwise.

-if we bring up the topic of susbedo, it’d be a very different story.

-if susbedo specifically didn’t TRULY care about you, he’d absolutely kill someone to get out. no hesitation. would not care that he is essentially dooming your life to save his own.

bennett

-poor guy.

-his luck is awful, and it’s not like that’s going to suddenly get better in a killing game.

-honestly, he’d be lucky if he survived a day.

-with his adventurer background, he could hold his own for a bit, but the bad luck combined with despair-driven killers would probably put up a bunch of death flags.

-plus, his kindness would make him a prime target. it’s easy to take advantage of someone like him, especially with his s/o involved.

-bennett would be shaken by his motive tape, but he wouldn’t kill over it.

-if his s/o were to be a murderer, he’d be absolutely devastated. probably crying during the trial, wondering why they’d do something so immoral.

-through tears he’d vote for you to serve justice to whoever you killed.

-if his s/o died, bennett would hide away in his room for a while, then lash out at the culprit during the trial. his anger would be heart-wrenching, but ultimately, he’d never be able to take revenge.

-in the end, it’s probably someone close to him who backstabs him—whether it’s figurative, literal, or both.

diluc

-super on edge. diluc would be hyper-focused on figuring out the mastermind from the start.

-he’d stick to his s/o like glue, not trusting anyone else to protect them.

-his sense of justice would mean he’d never kill because of a motive tape. i could only see him becoming a blackened if it’s in self-defense or if you’re about to kill someone and he deals the final blow to take the blame.

-with his skills as the darknight hero, he’d do the dangerous investigative work—digging into anyone who seems suspicious, fully aware of the target on his back.

-diluc is smart, and he’d be a huge asset during trials, piecing together the facts faster than anyone else.

-if you died, diluc would become an emotional wreck on the inside, but he’d stay focused on finding your killer. he wouldn’t stop until he did.

-his constant sneaking around would probably place a bunch of suspicion on him, but diluc would always have a solid alibi to back him up.

-however, I see a scenario where a murder happens and diluc gets voted out as the killer for being too isolated or too suspicious.

-with only you by diluc’s side, the true killer would pin the blame on him and label you as an accomplice.

-in a different scenario, i could see him being killed by kaeya in a moment of vulnerability after your own separate death. he’d let his guard down around his brother, thinking that no one would strike in that moment.

-in actuality, the real culprit would be the ultimate cosplayer, who’d disguise themselves as kaeya.

-but diluc would never know that. he lies on the ground thinking his brother betrayed him once again, dying a truly despairing death.

kaeya

-kaeya is unpredictable and unreadable. that’s the thing about him—he’s not easy to pin down.

-it’s well-known that he has tons of secrets, so he’s pretty sneaky when it comes to getting what he wants.

-but he wouldn’t kill just for a chance at escape. for one, he cares about you. and for two, he wouldn’t be able to live with that kind of conscience.

-if he were to kill someone, though, kaeya would have the best chance of getting away with it. he’s sharp, and he knows how to manipulate situations.

-he’d absolutely help during the trials. kaeya’s got the perceptiveness to get things sorted out, and he’d know just what to say.

-he’d be a bit like kokichi, joking around, making light of the situation—but he’d still know when to take things seriously.

-kaeya would probably survive as long as you were still around. once you’re gone, though, he’d lose his spark. his charming personality would dim with your absence.

-he might go after the killer, but he’d restrain himself because he’d know you wouldn’t want that.

-if you were the one to kill, he’d try to cover for you, taking the blame himself (kinda like how fuyuhiko tried to take the fall for peko).

-if you died, kaeya would probably make it to the end, but he’d lose a lot of himself in the process. he’d go through the motions, but his heart wouldn’t be in it anymore.

-he might even end up living to the very end, but it’s not without a heavy emotional toll.

venti

-venti’s definitely the mood-lifter, doing his best to keep everyone’s spirits up in the worst situation possible.

-he’d be the one cracking jokes, playing songs, just trying to bring some light to the darkness.

-but deep down, venti knows exactly how dangerous the game is. he’s actually probably the most aware of the dangers.

-like the many others, venti’s smart as well. his perceptiveness and way with words would very much help expose the culprit.

-his motive tape wouldn’t phase him, he knows it’s just a means to stir up some anger. he’d be quick to observe your state of mind after watching the tapes though, making sure you don’t commit a murder yourself.

-if you still became a blackened, he’d feel disappointed— in both himself and you.

-he’d feel guilty, thinking he wasn’t able to properly warn and protect you.

-if you died as a victim, venti would be completely shattered. he might put on a brave face for a little while, but inside, he’d feel hollow.

-venti’s survival would depend on how well he’s able to keep a target off his back. but in reality, his only wish was to be with you.

[mellow-rosemallow]

~greetings from the angel of music!~

𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚎, 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠-𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠

—𝚜𝚑𝚎/𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚙, 𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𓃵

—𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚗!

—𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚜

—𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛

—𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌

—𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚢

—𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑: 𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜!

𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚜!

𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚙𝚊𝚍

𝚚𝚞𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚟 (𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝)

𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖

𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 (𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗!)

𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎— 𝚐𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢!

𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗!

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝚗𝚘 𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜!

—𝙶𝙴𝙽𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙽 𝙸𝙼𝙿𝙰𝙲𝚃, 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚔𝚊𝚒: 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚕, 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚠 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚢, 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚙𝚊, 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚛, 𝚙𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗, 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚑/𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌, 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚊, 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚍: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜,

𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎!

𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐— 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛!

𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗: 𝟺/𝟸𝟷/𝟸𝟻

[mellow-rosemallow]

so I was thinking like

what if romeo and juliet inspired scenario with kazuha during the vision hunt decree?

imagine this: you’re a member of the kujou clan, former friend to runaway criminal kaedehara kazuha—someone you severed ties with after he fled your homeland. at least, that’s how the story goes on paper.

the sakura trees sway in the sea of night, pink petals swirl around your family’s estate as the moon glows above. the pattern of the cool wind calms your mind, and eases the pressure off your heart. but as your spirit rests, your thoughts wander to the banished samurai you once held dear.

how strange, you think, that a name spoken in hushed tones still stirs your chest. the weight of it never fully leaving you. the story they tell on paper isn’t the same as the one you know in your heart. betrayal, they call it. but you remember the person behind the betrayal—the friend who had no choice but to leave.

as if the anemo archon heard your prayers, the winds shift, and a red and white hue peeks out from behind a tree branch below your balcony. a fair face with crimson eyes meets your own as he vaults up to your balcony, landing in a crouch. the soft rustle of his cloak mingles with the gentle breeze. he rises slowly, a shadow in the dim glow of the stars, and his smile is faint but unmistakable.

“i didn’t expect to see you here today.”

the words leave you in a soft laugh, the sound like the wind itself. he mirrors your gesture with a quiet smile of his own.

silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words. the night air weaves a quiet conversation—one without need for voices. your standing figures stretch long shadows beneath the endless sky. the scent of cherry blossoms clings to the space between you. time seems to hold its breath, and for a moment, the line separating your worlds blurs. the troubling history of your shared story fades, like the fleeting shadow of a cloud.

your gaze lowers, following the fallen petals scattered across the wooden floor beneath you.

“they’ll find you here,” you murmur, barely breaking the silence. the words hang between you, an unpleasant reminder of the reality that can’t be ignored.

kazuha doesn’t answer right away. instead, he steps closer, his presence steady and grounding, as if the winds themselves are pulling him toward you. his eyes shift toward the horizon, then to the rising moon, before returning to meet yours once again.

no more words are needed. his return—his very presence—speaks louder than anything either of you could say.

the winds stir once more. fallen petals, light as air, lift back into the sky, swirling in slow, graceful circles. the stillness deepens between you, but there’s an underlying urgency now, unspoken but felt.

he shifts, as if preparing to leave.

footsteps echo from below. the distant sound of patrolling soldiers grows louder, and you both know time is running out.

he moves to pull away, but before he does, his hand brushes the edge of your sleeve, his fingers trailing lightly down to your hand. he grasps it gently, his touch a fleeting thing, soft as the whisper of wind itself. his lips press against the back of your palm—barely there, but enough to send a tremor through you. enough to remind you of what had been lost.

“take care,” he whispers, the words barely reaching your ears.

his smile flickers once more, then he turns, slowly, preparing to leave as he always does. but this time, the weight of the moment feels heavier.

you feel the coldness of the night close in, the fleeting nature of this reunion pressing against your chest. there’s no doubt that this will be the last time you see him for a while. the thought grips your heart as he steps away from you, his form swallowed by the darkness of the trees.

but you know he’ll return. he always does.

[mellow-rosemallow]

a/n: I accidentally deleted the draft when I wanted to post, and I had no copies so I had to rewrite the whole thing (lesson learned) 😭🙏

“A rose for the most beautiful flower in Fontaine!”

The smooth, cheeky voice of a magician fills the warm air as he presents you with a rainbow rose. Holding it out with dramatic exuberance, its bright petals catch the sun. Yet another offering from Lyney in his ever-persistent attempt to win your heart. 

Every day, he appeared with a new gift in hand, all accompanied with a shining smile that seemed just too perfect to not have been rehearsed. Whether it was a dazzling brooch, a box of chocolates, or a beautiful bouquet, Lyney always found a way to charm you— even if those charms never actually worked.

You’d seen it all before. Lyney’s flirtatiousness is something he’s not at all ashamed of; in fact, he pushes it forward. It wasn’t like you disliked him, that wasn’t the case at all— he was handsome, undeniably talented, and charismatic. But the problem was that it never felt genuine, it always felt like he was just putting on another performance. His stage persona had seeped into his life, the world has become his stage.

What was the point in indulging?

You stared at the rose for a moment, then back at him. His violet eyes searched your face, almost expectant, as though he was waiting for you to melt at his charm. You didn’t. You wouldn't fall for his thoughtless advances.

“Thank you, Lyney. It’s very beautiful.”

You accept the rose with a polite smile… before shoving it into your bag with little care for its fragile leaves.

In his eyes, Lyney sees your carelessness with the flower as yet another failed attempt to elicit any sort of meaningful reaction from you. His practiced smile falters for just a moment before he fixes it. 

You turn and walk away, your own smile turning into a half-grimace at the colorful rose that stuck out of your bag. The moment you turned a corner, you tossed the flower into a nearby alleyway. It fell into a pile of other withered roses, their once vibrant petals a dark and desaturated pink.

“Ta-da!”

You sit under the shade of an umbrella at Café Lutèce as Lyney approaches you with another gift. You’d think he’d give up by now, considering your reactions, but no. He persists. This time, the gift is a slice of cake inside a small box, neatly wrapped in ribbon—it's tidiness fitting for Lyney himself.

“Ah, cake. How delicious. Thank you,” you said, accepting the box with a polite smile. It had become routine by now. Once again, Lyney’s smile twitched at the edges.

“My apologies,” he started with a short laugh. “Is the gift perhaps not to your liking?”

You couldn’t tell him the truth—the truth being that these gifts meant nothing to you. So you gave him another polite response.

“Oh no, not at all. I appreciate the gesture!”

You accepted the small box and set it on the table. Fiddling with the ribbon in thought, you decided it would be better to eat it now to avoid throwing it away. Might as well share with him—it’s the least you could do after constantly giving him such dry reactions.

“Say,” you started. “Would you like to share this with me? Consider it my thank you.”

Lyney’s smile brightened, and his eyes lit up with hope. He sat down across from you, setting his hat aside on the small table as you opened the box to reveal the dessert. Picking up a fork, you sank it into the soft texture of the cake, putting a small piece into your mouth. Your eyes lit up—it was delicious. Miles better than whatever you were receiving before.

Seeing your widened eyes, Lyney spoke up with a smile.

“It’s the exclusive cake from Hotel Debord!” he noted enthusiastically. “Can you believe they only sell sixteen slices a day? Quite the competition in the morning, if I do say so myself,” he added with a short laugh. You nodded in response as you swallowed.

“It must be. What flavor is it, by the way?”

“I’m not sure. I think it’s an experimental creation by the chef—Escoffier, I think?”

He took a bite himself, humming softly in approval. You caught yourself watching him a moment longer than expected, just enough to notice how he closed his eyes when he smiled, or how the golden light framed the edge of his hair.

“I heard one of the Melusines at Palais Mermonia buys a slice daily,” you remarked, turning your attention back to the table.

“She must have connections,” Lyney replied, grinning.

For a moment, the conversation paused. Not awkward, just quiet. It was a quiet where neither of you felt the need to fill the space. A couple strolled past on the cobblestones, their laughter fading into the city. Somewhere nearby, a server cleared plates with a soft clatter of porcelain. The cafe owner brewed fresh coffee in the background, the warm smell traveling down the street.

You took another bite of the cake, slower this time.

“This is actually… really good,” you admitted.

“I’m glad,” Lyney said simply.

The sun slipped a little lower in the sky, and the shade from the umbrella stretched across the table. You found yourself leaning forward slightly, resting your elbow beside the box as you picked at the dessert, less out of hunger and more to keep the moment going.

The rest of the time passed easily, with the cake becoming a backdrop for the topics you touched on—Escoffier’s food, favorite restaurants, and various stories. Your voice’s strained politeness soon faded away as you spoke, and time seemed to fly by as you talked with the magician. But eventually, the moment came to an end.

“…It seems about time for me to head home,” you said, standing up from your seat. The sun had begun to fall, the final rays of daylight shining from behind the city’s walls and rooftops. Lyney picked up his hat, setting it back on his head as he wished you good night. You waved back as you walked, leaving the cafe with a comfortable air of silence.

In the following days, Lyney’s sparkling gifts stopped. Instead, he began approaching you whenever he spotted you out and about the city. Soon enough, your spontaneous conversations became a natural part of both your daily routines.

On a clear afternoon, you were out browsing the various shops lining the city streets when you saw Lyney sitting by a fountain, observing the dancing water. His violet eyes held a certain calmness, as if reflecting lavender. Compared to past interactions, this side of him was… soothing.

“Is everything alright?” you asked, surprised by the concern in your own voice.

“Ah, everything’s fine!” Lyney assured with a smile. “I was simply having trouble thinking of new tricks to incorporate into the shows my sister and I perform.”

You sat beside him, the cool stone of the fountain beneath you, the spray of water misting the air around your arms like a whisper. Despite the bustle of Fontaine’s streets, the two of you sat in a quiet pocket of stillness.

“Sounds a bit like writer’s or artist’s block,” you remarked.

“Yes, exactly! In fact, that’s exactly what it is—I’m an artist myself, you know, just with extra flair!” he declared with his usual exuberance. But this time, it felt like personal jest, rather than a held-up persona.

A few moments passed. The fountain’s rhythm filled the silence, water falling and rising in an endless loop. The scent of warm pastries lingered faintly in the air. Lyney leaned back slightly, bracing himself with his hands on the fountain’s edge. He tilted his head to the side, eyes closed, face lifted toward the sun.

An entire hour passed in what felt like mere minutes— a repeating pattern you came to realize whenever you spoke with Lyney. You didn’t realize how much time even passed until he stood, stretching his arms for a few seconds before letting them fall to his sides.

“Shall we take a walk?” he asked, looking down at you and extending an arm.

You nodded, taking his hand and falling into step beside him.

The streets of Fontaine were beginning to glow under the early evening light. Lanterns flickered on one by one, their soft golden halos illuminating cobblestone paths as shopkeepers swapped out their displays for the night. You walked past a bakery with brass window frames, past a street musician playing a soft tune on a lyre, past the perfume shop that always made the air smell like warm spices.

Conversation drifted between you two, sometimes pausing completely before picking up again just as naturally. The breaks of silence were somehow just as comfortable as the exchange of words. You continued looking around the surrounding shops, Lyney walked with his hands folded behind his back, humming absently every now and then.

As you rounded the corner to your street, the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and navy blue, the golden hour fading into a sea of bright stars. The light caught on the street, making the path shimmer as though those same stars had reflected onto the ground.

Your home came into view, framed by the iron of its small balcony and the faint scent of flowers drifting from the window boxes. You stopped just short of the steps.

“Well,” you started, turning to Lyney. “This is it.”

He glanced up at your door, then back at you. His hand moved behind him, and for a moment, you half-expected a dramatic flourish. But instead, he simply pulled out a single red rose.

Presented without ribbons and illusions. Without a card or flattering words.

Just a rose.

“For you,” he said. His voice, for once, was without theatricality, no lilt meant to charm.

As you did with the other gifts, you looked at the rose, then at him. His eyes had that same calming glint you’d caught during your talks. You took the flower gently, holding it with more care than you had any of the previous ones.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice quiet but honest.

Lyney offered a smile in return—not the perfect stage smile you’d seen so many times before, but something smaller.

He stepped back. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be around.”

He tipped his hat lightly and winked before turning to walk away, his steps echoing faintly down the cobbled street.

You entered your home and closed the door slowly, the cool handle lingering under your fingers longer than necessary. As the latch clicked shut, you leaned against it, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Your eyes drifted to the rose in your hand.

“Well, he’s frustrating,” you murmured to yourself, the words escaping with a hint of fond exasperation. You turned the rose in your fingers. It wasn’t particularly rare. No sweet fragrance. No shimmering petals.

It was simply red. A deep, vibrant red.

But for some reason, this one seemed brighter than the others.

fun genshin fact : for those who don’t remember or haven’t played the quest, all rainbow roses are actually closer to lillies, and the original rainbow roses went extinct. since both flower species grew together, the living species stole the name!

[mellow-rosemallow]

Can you do a Pela x Silvermane Guard Reader? You know how Pela is secretive about how she’s in the Tale of the Winterland fan club? Let us say as these clubs reach a certain number of members a guard is assigned to their meetings to keep the peace. Well standing in a number of these club meetings the reader got interested in it. They turn to Pela for recommendations, thus starting their friendship around their shared interests. Though one day after finding some fan fiction about a character that strangely sounds like them the truth is revealed how they feel about the reader.

Side note on the last part may sound odd but I saw online that Pela apparently does that. Not sure if it’s true but given she’s an important member of the club I can see it.

admittedly, it’s not very long (still pretty new writer). also im gonna be so honest, I knew basically nothing about pela before writing this so I hope it’s accurate enough :D

"Tale of the Winterland Fanclub"

A small, niche club formed around the beloved book series Tale of the Winterland. However, due to its exclusivity and the intense nature of its fans, you might as well call it a “small organization” of sorts. As is common with all other groups, the Silvermane Guards assign a soldier to each club once it meets the monitoring requirements—per the usual peacekeeping protocols. In this case, the Tale of the Winterland Fanclub had finally grown large enough to warrant the presence of a soldier at all times.

    That soldier happened to be you.

    You stood quietly in a corner, observing as the devoted fans of the series excitedly spoke amongst themselves, sharing theories, fanfiction, and fanart alike. The meeting was lively—expected, really, when so many people gather under the umbrella of a shared obsession. You wouldn’t admit to having any interest yourself, but out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar face—

    Pelageya Sergeyevna. Pela. The Intelligence Officer of the Silvermane Guards.

    You had certainly heard the rumors, whispers here and there. But you’d always brushed them off as idle gossip—until now. To see someone of such high authority, so rigid in her occupation, grinning and blushing like a teenager as she eagerly shared her work with other members? It was whiplash in the most unexpected form. She was casual. Human. A stark contrast to the sharp-edged officer you knew.

    Your consistent presence at the meetings eventually led to the members acknowledging and accepting you, even going so far as to greet you and attempt conversations. You didn’t respond with much at first—mostly nods and small words. But the avoidance game never lasts long. Curiosity, like snow on boots, has a way of creeping in.

    And so, you found yourself wondering about the series.

    Who better to ask than Pela?

    On the evening after another eventful meeting, you approached her as she removed her usual disguising mask.

    “Hey, Officer Pela,” you said, offering a small wave. “If I were to perhaps… start getting into Tale of the Winterland, where would I start?”

    Her eyes snapped up from the book she was reading. She blinked at you, expression briefly surprised before settling into her usual calm. Without missing a beat, she reached into her bag and pulled out a novel—hardcover, thick, and in pristine condition.

    “You asked the right person,” she said, eyes bright. “Start with this one.”

    You took the book carefully, noting the uncreased pages, the gently preserved corners. It was clear: this series meant everything to her.

    And just like that, something shifted.

    Over the course of several weeks, you and Pela began spending more time together after meetings. These moments—quiet and cozy—often involved her explaining plot points to you or lending you more books. It became your own little pocket of peace, a two-person club tucked within the folds of an already exclusive group. And as time passed, your bond deepened. Beyond club hours, beyond formal titles, something undeniably personal began to grow—something buried gently under a mound of snow.

    Eventually, you dove deeper into the fandom, participating in its many community activities. That’s when you stumbled across Pela’s fanfiction.

    You were impressed at first. Her writing was clean, smooth, polished—professional, really, as expected of an Intelligence Officer. But the further you read, the more... familiar it became.

    The love interest in her story had your hair. Your eyes. Your temperament. Their words felt like yours. Their presence, your own. The connections clicked into place.

    It was you.

    After the next meeting, once everyone else had departed, you sat with Pela in the now quiet room.

    “Was that character,” you began slowly, “perhaps… based off anybody in particular?”

    She stammered, just for a moment. Then flushed—just barely. A blink. A breath, before once again regaining her composed form.

    “Yes,” she admitted. “But the story is still unfinished.”

 You smiled, closing your eyes for a moment, then meeting her gaze.

   “Then would you like to write it together?”

first ever request! thanks so much for submitting this! <3