#like believe me i'm heartened to see people giving up something that they enjoy in order to support palestine

[cowboyhorsegirl]

don't get me wrong, i'm SO glad that ppl are boycotting eurovision this year, but i'm also a little irked because BDS has been telling ppl to boycott eurovision for YEARS so where has this energy been all that time??

[genshin-impacted]

empress of the first water // Zhongli x Reader (3)

Word Count: ~3.5k

Palace/Harem Imperial Drama AU: You are a princess, soon-to-be-Empress, and Zhongli is the teacher invited by the royal court to show you the ropes before you ascend to the throne after a royal tragedy.

Notes: female!reader (she/her), Zhongli/Reader, Zhongli POV, mutual pining!!!!, slight Amber/Reader but if you squint your eyes it can be platonic, crams my favorite tropes into one fic so yes... subtle touches and wearing his coat

[Previous] [Next]

Chapter 3 Synopsis: Names hold a lot of meaning, for they carry also with them the weight of the emotions behind them.

The names and nicknames from the soon-to-be-Empress are powerful indeed, Zhongli thinks. Not a month has passed and the palace has already begun to address him by Zhongli xiansheng to demonstrate both his status as first-born and his role as the Princess’ teacher. There is no need, to be honest, for the entire palace to refer to him as that title, but half for propriety’s sake and half because it is the Princess calling him by that name, it is what it is. The nobles may call him this in your presence in accordance to proper decorum, but it seems everyone else has followed in your example-- beloved as you are. 

Disregarding the nobles, you are generally well-liked within the palace walls for your kind aristocracy that is so unlike many of the entitled nobles that reside here. The guards are evidently fond of you and the maids that are allowed in your chambers are especially doting on you (Noelle comes to mind almost immediately). It is a shame though, that in the grand scheme of politics, it is not their favor that truly matters-- though he thinks you have not placed much weight into buying favors with nobles that have never viewed you as anything more than a glorified puppet.  

Zhongli takes pride in his title as your xiansheng, for what he could not be involved with academia, he is able to live a life how he would have imagined when he is teaching you. He thinks you have come to call upon him fondly as xiansheng as well, which makes the title all the more appealing. Very few people, he realizes, are able to gain a title or another name of some sort from you. He only knows this when he is escorted by Amber to the outdoor pagoda where you have invited him to tea. 

“Princess, I have brought Zhongli xiansheng,” Amber says, and Zhongli is amused to hear the eagerness in her voice as well as consoled by the idea that he is not the only one greatly fond of her royal highness. 

“Thank you, Amber,” you say warmly, and, behind her, Zhongli can see the way Amber’s ears redden, “quick as always.” 

“Of course, my lady,” Amber says, bowing respectfully. She continues as Zhongli quietly takes the seat that you have presented to him. “Is there anything that the Princess requires of me?” 

You hum. “Not at the moment, no. Except, would you like to join us for tea?” 

Zhongli watches in alarming clarity as Amber’s face turns as red as the decorations in her hair. “For tea?” Amber stammers, glancing over at Zhongli, “I-I couldn’t--”

“It’s only the xiansheng, Amber,” he hears you say with gentle humor, and he thinks you don’t understand the power of your words when his heart beats rapidly at the thought that the level of comfort you have with him matches your lady-in-waiting. Though, he feels sympathy towards Amber, because he can only imagine the mix of embarrassment and elation at being invited for tea, and the intimacy that is insinuated with an invitation in front of another person.

Still, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t find amusement in teasing the poor girl with you.

“If it matters,” he says smoothly, “I do not mind. Tea is enjoyable with a certain number of people; three is indeed a fortuitous number.” 

“True,” you reply immediately after, a smile in your voice. “Any more people and we would have been in trouble.”  

“I-I have, um,” Amber starts, red-faced. “I have something I have to finish. But thank you for the invitation, my Princess.” She bows, her red hairband's ribbon drooping down from her head. And Zhongli takes notice of this because he begins to understand the nickname you have bestowed upon your favorite lady-in-waiting.

“Thank you for humoring me, bunny.” Zhongli doesn’t know how you instilled that much fondness into your words, but you do, your voice as warm and gentle as the morning rays of sunlight. “Let’s drink tea together later when you’re finished with your work then,” you say. 

He watches as Amber looks at you with unbridled adoration and reverence before bowing deeply. If only your charisma would melt the greedy hearts of nobles, the world would know peace, he thinks as Amber walks away with her head held high, knowing she is favored by you.  

“I’ll apologize to Amber for teasing her so relentlessly today,” you say, uprighting the teacups from its tray. “But to be fair, I did not expect you to join in with me so seamlessly.” You laugh. “What a pair we make.” 

“Allow me,” Zhongli says, reaching out to retrieve the teapot, still warm to the touch, and pouring its contents out. “Ah, have these leaves been steeped by the maids?” 

“Yes.” You say, blowing the steam from your cup. “Are they not to your liking, xiansheng?” 

He takes a moment to be properly abashed at being seen like that by the Princess. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to sound unappreciative.” At the flippant wave of your hand, he continues, “It is just that I tend to steep the leaves myself according to the type of leaves to their proper temperature. I find it soothing-- almost meditative-- to perform the proper techniques, so I would not have minded brewing the tea myself.”

You take a sip of the tea and he follows after you, the liquid flowing down his throat easily and warming him from the inside. “Then perhaps I will see your technique the next time we have tea,” you say. “I’ll tell the maid to prepare it for you.”

“The next time?” He echoes before he can think of his words. 

The amused look you give him is enough to make his ears feel warm. “Teatime can be a daily occurrence, can it not?” You ask teasingly, “Surely you can fit me into your busy schedule.” 

(Always the playful one, he thinks fondly.) 

Zhongli hides his smile behind his cup. “I suppose if it is for the Princess,” he says, “then I shall find my best to accommodate my schedule to her wishes.” 

.

.

With lessons going well, Zhongli finds that the breaks in-between have grown to be one of his more favorite moments. His favorite moment so far was when he was able to delve into the history of Liyue Harbor and its trade and business. He thinks your eyes may have glazed over for a moment, but to be fair, he had expanded on the architecture, history, and influence of each type of building and boat. 

But even better than the short reprises are the days you are able to extend an invitation to him for afternoon tea. For the first few sessions, you indulge him as he explains the differences between each tea leaves and the temperature in which they must be steeped in order to bring out the aroma to its full extent. He resteeps the leaves multiple times, observing how you take to each flavor, and is heartened by the fact that you seem just as eager as he was to experiment in the richness of each cup.

To reward your diligence, Zhongli requests the maids to provide him the proper equipment for a tea ceremony, including a fresh batch of tea leaves. The next time you ask him to drink tea with you, he offers to teach you how to perform yourself. 

"Must everything we do be a lesson?" You tell him with a hint of fond exasperation, to which he chuckles. 

“I believe you will enjoy the relaxing motions that a tea ceremony provides,” Zhongli says. “Also, no knowledge will ever go to waste, Princess; this will serve you well when you must greet guests in the future.” 

“Alright then,” you concede with a small smile on your face. “What do I do?”

Zhongli stands behind you and directs your actions clearly: warm the pot, discard of the water, place the tea leaves within the teapot. "Now," he says, leaning down as you lift the newly filled teapot, "we will perform the first steeping of tea leaves. Like so…" He trails off, gently placing his hand lightly on your wrist to maneuver it into swirling the pot smoothly. 

He's surprised to watch as your hands stiltedly move the pot, untrained and clumsy, which are so unlike your movements before this. Is it difficult for you, he wonders, removing his hand to offer extra instruction only for your hand to slip from its grip from the pot.

"I-I apologize," you stammer, nimble enough to catch the pot from falling. You quickly turn the pot easily in the motion Zhongli has taught you and ask him, without looking up, "What's the next step?"

Your behavior is odd but not alarming-- and the feeling is brief. As requested, Zhongli explains that you are to pour the swirled water out and begin the infusion step, filling the pot with water until it is overfilling.

"Performing a tea ceremony has been known to have a soothing effect," Zhongli says as you wait to steep the tea for a brief moment. Just as you look at him, he continues with a small, teasing smile, "Though it seems like this activity has been quite the excitement for you, from what I have witnessed."

And there is that wide-eyed look of embarrassment again.

"No, it's nothing like that," you say, watching the still water gather. "This has been very relaxing; I can see myself doing this on my own just to compose myself." You glance back up with narrow eyes that hold no real heat to them. "Though, I'm not sure if I should be pleased or not that my xiansheng has gotten familiar with me to tease me like that."

To his better judgment, Zhongli feels his ears warm at the admission of such fact, pleased as he is with it. "Ah, yes, well, I must say it is only thanks to your highness' benevolence and welcoming nature that I have the audacity to address you in such a manner."

You laugh, and Zhongli thinks he is glad that it has become a more familiar sound.  "What a silver tongue!" You say, allowing him to take the pot and pour its contents into cups, "You have such a way with words, Zhongli xiansheng. I can only hope to charm others with that level of skill."

"A true charismatic ruler is a natural wordsmith-- a poet in their own right," Zhongli replies, watching you take in the scent of the tea before drinking it. "Perhaps that shall be our next lesson."

"As long as I do not have to memorize poetry--" You gape when Zhongli only looks away and sips at his tea. "No-- no, we're going to--"

"As part of the aristocratic court, you must be well-versed with prose and poetry." Zhongli says simply, amused, "I am quite fond of poetic verses, so it will be remiss to not teach you."

(You think about hearing Zhongli recite the longest love ballads to you in your small, private classroom and feel your cheeks grow warm.)

You hold your cup into your hands and absently turn it, watching the tea ripple. "My education," you tell him, sighing, "is in your hands."

.

.

.

The two of you enjoy the tea until the water is cold, drinking your third infused cup with as much savor as the last. With the waning moon, there will soon not be any light once the sun sets, and Zhongli can feel the cool autumn breeze dip down into colder temperatures. You have just stopped regaling the story of when you had fallen into the koi pond in your childhood when you shiver, and Zhongli thinks that no matter how much he enjoys your company in the palace garden, surrounded by glaze lilies and silk flowers, there can always be another time.

"Shall we head to the library?" He asks kindly, "Or perhaps the study?" He hears you lightly sniffle, and he smiles at the attempt to hide your affliction. "I'm sure we might both enjoy better conversation in warmer climates."

"Yes," you say, breathing hot air onto your hands, "that does sound like a good idea."

The two of you go to stand, and Zhongli shrugs off his outer coat to drape it over you, much to your surprise. And for a moment, he thinks he must have overstepped or violated a rule of etiquette (despite how unlikely that may be), but you mumble a thanks and tug the coat closer to you. 

"My pleasure," he replies, walking to stand next to you. "It would not do for you to catch a cold, Princess."

"Hm…" You hum, and Zhongli has taught you long enough to know that you are distracted. He sees you raise your hand to your face, his umber sleeves following it. "You smell like oak," you remark, and he feels his face warm despite the breeze, "like freshly bound books and letters, and--"

You take a glance in his direction when he has grown quiet and your eyes widen in alarm. "-err, and, um, incense, probably. Very familiar-- from the shrine maybe?" You stammer, inching away from the pagoda, "Sorry, I just-- your coat--"

What kind of expression is he making, Zhongli wonders, for you to look as panicked as you are, as flustered as he has ever seen you. He is almost startled by the fact that this has been one of the first times he has ever seen you uncomposed. With the amount of time he has spent with you, he has been able to see the way you interact with others, and he has concluded that you are a person who takes things in stride.

With your messenger Bennett, unlucky as a person can be, you offer only kind gestures and a breezy conversation to take his mind off his tumultuous route. With your maids, you never react badly to any mistake that would have cost them their heads had they been serving anywhere else. But a dropped silverware, broken porcelain, you are nonplussed and difficult to anger when there is no reason to be. Even with nobles, you show grace by speaking to them without a hint of disdain or resentment, so they never have any chance to vilify you. If Zhongli did not know better, he would never have expected you could ever harbor ill will towards another, but he knows now that you are calm-- and if anything, your anger is icy and self-righteous in the face of prejudice.

Zhongli tries not to feel pleased about being able to see another part of who you are and fails. Still, as endearing as your embarrassment is, you are a Princess and it would be remiss of him to allow you to flounder about. 

"Princess," he says, hoping to ease you from your thoughts. If anything, addressing you directly makes you retreat further, and Zhongli sees you take a step back-- a misstep-- toward the pond.

"Ah-!"

Zhongli reaches out to you almost instinctively before you even begin to fall.

If Zhongli had thought he had seen you at your most flustered, he can feel it clearly for himself. With his hand on your waist, holding you tenderly with your hands braced on his chest, you are hot to the touch, your face heating up to the point even he can feel it through his clothes. He feels your hands curl into the lapels of his shirt and the press of your body against his.

His first thought is not to apologize for the proximity or not ask for your well-being, but the fact that you were right. His clothes do smell like oak, of a forest and of pressed wood, and now, he thinks, you will smell like him.

(He does not have time at the moment to process how this makes him feel.)

It is a brief moment of infatuation-- you possess a soft scent, befitting of your gentle attitude and tenderness-- but he remembers how his heart had beat fast because he was afraid of your fall and pulls you away from him (even if your presence in his arms was a comfortable one). "Are you hurt, Princess?" He asks, scanning your arms and legs. Like clockwork, he says, "I apologize for my actions, but I had thought you were going to fall in."

You shake your head furiously, and your hands copy that motion. "No, no, I understand. I would have fallen without your help. I was just--" You stammer, covering your face with your hand. “I was just surprised, is all.” 

“Are you not feeling well?” He asks, the thought coming to mind as suddenly as you turn your head to him again. He thinks it makes sense though-- your unsteady hands, your lingering warmth...

“Huh?” You squawk, pressing your hands to your cheeks, “What makes you say that?”

I should check her temperature, Zhongli thinks with concern gnawing on his conscience. He remembers cool palms on his forehead when he was feverish and reaches out to provide the same to you.

“Ah, allow me to--”

"Princess, xiansheng," one of the guards addresses the two of you, bowing deeply, providing you a moment to recompose and him a moment to retract his hand. "The further villages have informed us that there will be a storm headed our way soon; please allow me to escort you back to your chambers."

"Thank you," you say calmly. "I would like to have a word with Zhongli xiansheng for a moment, if you would not mind."

"Of course, my lady."

Zhongli watches the guard walk away as you turn toward him with your regal composure still about you, and he wonders how many times he has almost forgotten who he's talking to at times. Just as when he gently scolds you for being distracted or when he's muffling his laughter when you say something particularly witty, or when you allow him to touch you-- casually like before and intimately like the two of you were just now, he thinks that he has let his guard down around you tremendously to forget exactly why he's here and who he is serving. "Princess," he begins, bowing his head deeply in respect. When he lifts his head, he thinks he sees a flicker of disappointment on your face, but it is gone a moment later. "I apologize if I have upset you in any way with the manner in which I have conducted myself.” 

The wind blows past them much more harshly than before, but it picks up your laughter, light as it has always been. “I'm not upset," you tell him. "If I minded your actions, I would simply not allow you to do them.”

He thinks back to his outstretched hand, reaching to place his hand tenderly upon your face in a show of affection not befitting of a tutor like himself and shifts uncomfortably. "Still," he says, "in retrospect, I see that it's been inappropriate how casually I act around you, which is ill-befitting of someone of your status. Perhaps I--"

"Do not let my status as royalty put a wedge in our friendship," you say sharply enough to make him clamp his mouth shut. "I enjoy your company, as I hope you find the same with mine, and I find that simplicity much too rare to throw away because of who-- or rather, what I am." You soften your eyes and continue, "I mean it, Zhongli. I want you to treat me as you normally do. I promise you I will let you know if I deem something unfavorable."

"You always have been quite straightforward," he settles, almost in resignation. When you grin, he thinks your countenance could be a weapon if you chose to wield it as such.

"Then we are in agreement with something at least," you reply. You shiver in the cold wind and Zhongli takes this chance to press his hand against your forehead when you freeze.

"You don't seem sick," Zhongli says, gently taking his hand away, "but please be sure to drink ginger tea prior to sleeping to warm your body."

"...You were checking my temperature?"

He nods. "Yes, I apologize for not clarifying. I will make sure to inform you of my intentions next time, but the thought slipped from my mind." He says, "I was concerned for your health the entire night, Princess. Do let me know if you do not feel well for any lessons in the future."

And there's that embarrassment again, Zhongli notes briefly before you clear your throat and turn away. "Yes, well, I'm fine, I assure you," you say. "I-- well, I'll let you know if I ever feel under the weather." You pause and he must stop in his tracks to wait for you before he steps onto the trails of your dress. "Thank you," you say softly, "for worrying about me."

Zhongli looks at you with the wind billowing past and the lanterns lit behind you and feels his heart tremble.

"Let us leave," you say again before he can reply. "The storm is coming."

"Yes," Zhongli says finally. You look at him again and he folds his hands behind his back to stabilize his shaking hands. "It is getting cold, isn't it?"

You shoot a grateful smile at him, tugging his jacket over yourself even more, and Zhongli follows after you, his eyes never leaving your visage.

[arknights-imagines]

Oooo for the Christmas letter/gift event could I request dobermann writing to her fem!operator s/o who is stationed further away for the holidays please? I'm soft for her 🥺

From, Dobermann

Christmas Letter and Gift event

It was so cold; you really should’ve bought a thicker coat, though in your defense, you hadn't been expecting to be sent out on an extended Operation for the Holidays, especially not one in the outskirts of Kjerag, the literal snow realm.

Returning to the Rhodes Island camp with the rest of your squad, you put your weapon away with a sigh, watching as your breath fogs up before you. Your squad captain nods at you all, firmly reminding you and your squadmates to prepare to escort another convey in a few hours. With a salute and word of affirmation, you part ways with your squad, heading back to your assigned cabin.

“[Name]?” The relief on your face dissipates immediately when you hear your captain calling for you. Expecting to be assigned with a new task that would leave you with even less time to rest, you answered with a less than eager nod.

The dread on your face was gone in an instant when you were handed a package; a plain, lightweight cardboard box. You accept it and lift a brow, “Who’s this from?” Your squad captain shrugs, “No idea, a messenger from back at Rhodes Island delivered it earlier today and told me to give it to you. You can deal with it inside, it’s cold out here.”

You can't disagree with that - with a respectful salute, you part ways with the captain, finally able to step into the warmth of your cabin.

Exhausted, you shed your coat and toss your weapon aside before sitting on the edge of your cot with the package in your lap. There’s no sender’s or recipient’s address or name, and you don't remember ordering anything - regardless, you open it to satisfy your curiosities. Upon opening it, you briefly inspect its contents; nothing in particular catches your eye, but the first thing you see is a sheet of paper stamped with the Rhodes Island insignia. Just from the neat, slanted handwriting creating paragraphs on the page, an expression of serenity comes over your face as you realize just who the package is from.

--------------------

[Name],

I regret not being able to express these thoughts to you in person, but in our situation there isn't much that can be done. So, this cardboard box and its contents are my compromise.

I may be risking my job if I say this, but I find the Doctor's decision to dispatch you so far away at such late notice is unwarranted - and so close to the Holidays as well… you should've called me, I would've given them quite the earful. What's passed is passed, however, and if the Doctor finds its best, then I can't argue.

I hadn't expected much to change around Rhodes island during Christmastime, but against my expectations, everything practically exploded with festivities. Bright lights hanging from the walls and the atmosphere filled with this mushy warmth despite the fact the weather is freezing outside - ha, can you believe the newbies even expected an extended break from the training program because of the holiday season? Maybe it’s too harsh of me to deny them any sort of vacation...but the way I see it, war doesn't pause its advances just because of Christmas, so neither should we.

To be honest, Christmas and its traditions aren't something I particularly enjoy; it’s all a little tacky. Maybe it's because as a military woman Holidays were never something I had the luxury of enjoying, but that's besides the point. There’s been various attempts to try and put me into the “Christmas Spirit”, but they've been useless for the most part, and end up in awkwardness or embarrassment - while I appreciate everyone's efforts, it's more of a hassle than anything.

Ha, just today, one of the trainees gifted me a box of pricey, Siracusian hot chocolate; yeah, chocolate…. It’s not their fault, after all, chocolate is widely loved by many people. I just happen to be part of the minority who can't stand it. Besides, something that sugary would ruin my diet; I’ll most likely just end up leaving it in the staff lounge or cafeteria for anyone to take. Hm….I’ll deal with it, don't worry about me.

Other than the Holidays, a few other things have been on my mind. For one, you forgot your heavier coat at home, and it's practically a 24 hour long blizzard outside; don’t freeze out there, or there might just be fifty laps around the training grounds waiting for you upon your return to Rhodes Island. But in all seriousness - [Name], be careful out there. Back here at Rhodes Island, festivities are in full swing and most things have been light hearted, but where you are, you don't have the luxury of slacking off or getting sloppy.

Ha, now that I think about it, a lot of my thoughts have been about you. Maybe it’s concern for your safety as your boss, or maybe it’s me as your lover missing you and your company. You know [name], if you told my past self that you were going to be my lover in time, I probably would have laughed at you in a dry, unamused tone. If something happens to you out there...Don’t be an idiot; follow your orders.

On a more heartening note…I decided to purchase something for you. It's a gift; Don't ask me when or why I bought it, but I’ve had it for some time. I just wasn't certain when the appropriate time to give it to you would be. Presents are meant to be exchanged during the Holiday season, so I’m giving it to you now. It’s not very extravagant or eye-catching, but it’s a gift nonetheless.

“Christmas Spirit”, huh? It’s been years since I bought someone a gift I put this much thought into...Maybe all those efforts from the trainees and other instructors worked after all. Heh, moving on.

After you return, I’ll free up a few days on my schedule around Christmas Day. Training physicality is important, but caring for the mind is as well. It’s been quite some time since we had some time to ourselves; I may be a very disciplined person, but I’m not heartless. I think stepping away from work to spend time with the one I love is justified, and I’m sure you'd agree that we both need a break.

This upcoming Christmas will be one of the few I spend off the field of battle, and the very first I celebrate with you. Ha, something tells me that if you’re with me, I might end up enjoying these Christmas traditions and rituals; I’ll be honest, window shopping, building snowmen and dancing to Christmas carols don't sound as ridiculous when I imagine myself doing them with you.

I'll cut this short, we can't have you losing focus, now can we? One last thing I have to tell you - you should know this already, but...I love you, [name]. I'm going to stress this again; stay safe for me, don't get distracted. Now get back to work.

Dobermann

--------------------

With all traces of exhaustion gone from your eyes, a smile paints your lips. Your eyes stay on the letter for a few moments longer, grasping tightly onto the feeling of warmth that fills you at Dobermann's words. When you pull your gaze away from the letter you realize something still remains inside the box - and then you remember that Dobermann had mentioned a gift for you in her letter.

You place the letter on your pillow, then take the smaller, neatly wrapped box out of the bigger cardboard one. You tear away the plain brown paper from the small box, after removing the lid from it, your eyes widen just slightly.

Sitting inside of the box is a simple silver bracelet, and engraved on the band are the words ‘never to part’. Smiling with adoration behind your eyes, you remove it from the box carefully; the bracelet feels durable and fits on your wrist perfectly. It’s not flashy, and compared to jewellery studded with diamonds and decorated with carefully carved patterns, it can't compare - but between you and Dobermann, it carries all kinds of meanings and messages reserved only for you and her.

A small pit forms in your stomach as a sudden yearn for Dobermann passes over you - sighing slightly, you trace your fingertips over the words on the silverband. Your eyes slip shut; you wish you were back at Rhodes Island, sitting in silence while watching the snow, with your head on her shoulder and her arm around your waist. A little hesitantly, you reopen your eyes, and you notice that there’s a sticky note stuck to the bottom of the previously wrapped gift box, with rows of words in Dobermann’s handwriting filling it.

Lifting a brow slightly, you unstick it from the box and read it slowly; ‘I want to be together with you for a long time, and if we want to stay with one another we both have to be strong...think of the bracelet as a reminder of that fact.’ Once more, a small smile paints your lips, and at the very last words of the note, you chime with a light laugh, ‘Merry Christmas, [name]. Take care of yourself, or I’ll do it for you.’