venustulipz - Tumblr blog

venustulipz · 26 days ago

Text

WAKING THEM UP BECAUSE YOU’RE HUNGRY . . . various.

blade, jing yuan, mydei, phainon, sunday x gn! reader ﾉ sfw, fluff, pet names used, bits of ooc but not that noticeable, blade doesn’t really care TT ﾉ in which late-night hunger strikes, so you wake them up for a treat

— BLADE

growl.

you swallow hard as you clutched your hollow stomach, frantically moving your eyeballs side to side to make sure you don’t wake up the dark, sleeping man by your side.

it’s nearly 2 am when your stomach started feeling extra needy and cried at the dead of night. you swore the huge meal you had prepared alongside blade with bowls and bowls of rice and other essentials would leave you in a bloated stomach — but you now know that it has not left your stomach bloated enough for as you woke up late craving more.

you take the risk to glance behind your shoulder.

he’s still still, his long hair tousled across the pillow, breathing deep and even. one arm remains loosely slung around your waist, fingers twitching now and then, like even in sleep he’s prepared to restrain—or protect. you’re never sure which.

another growl rumbles low in your stomach like some cursed engine refusing to die quietly. you squeeze your eyes shut, praying blade’s legendary instincts don’t extend to detecting midnight snack cravings.

unfortunately for you; fortunate for your stomach—

”are you hungry?”

your heart drops into your stomach, joining the chaos.

”no…” you mutter.

”you’re stomach is loud.”

“it’s not-!”

“it is,” blade interrupts, voice muffled as he shifts closer, chest pressing against your back. “and it sound like it’s about to eat you.”

you’re mortified. he’s clearly still half-asleep, but the way he presses his face into the crook of your neck feels too intentional for someone who claims to be annoyed.

“i wasn’t trying to wake you up,” you mumble, letting your fingers trace the edge of the blanket.

“and yet here we are.” his breath fans warm against your skin. “what is it this time? noodles? those stupid little cakes you hoard?”

”… toast.”

he makes a noise that could be judgment or amusement — maybe both. the he exhales sharply. “tch. you should’ve woken me.”

“i didn’t want to bother you.”

“then starve quietly.”

you snort.

“… i’m kidding,” he adds after a pause, begrudging and soft. “mostly.”

his hand slides a little higher, resting on your stomach now like it might still the protests. you feel the heat of it more than the pressure, grounding and real.

“sleep. i’ll deal with you in the morning.”

and somehow, with that promise lingering in the dark, your stomach settles — just a bit.

— JING YUAN

the moonlight streamed softly through the window, casting pale beams across the bedroom. the stillness of the night was broken only by the quiet rustling of the sheets as you softly shifted restlessly in bed.

the clock on the nightstand read 2:43 am, and your stomach was making its presence known with increasing urgency. you’d tried to ignore it, but the hunger pangs were relentless. it didn’t quite help either that jing yuan was weighing you down against his chest, his gentle grip on your waist was a surprise by how difficult and almost laborious it was to free from.

with that being known, any strategies from slipping away from his grasp was useless. to make matters worse and rather stranger, jing yuan is also a heavy sleeper, but somehow — his senses always manage to pull you back to bed with a blink of an eye and trap you under his biceps like a body pillow.

your stomach then lets out a treacherous growl that you swore could wake up the dead. you cringed and knew that your hunger couldn’t wait another second from starving from a midnight snack.

you shifted the other way to face your dozing lover. his usual well maintained hair messily sprayed across the pillows and some stands framing his face, you’re baffled at how beautiful and majestic he still looks while sleeping. almost guilty by the fact you’re about to wake him up.

“jing yuan,” you say, gently shaking his shoulder. “jing yuan, wake up.”

the soft hum that leaves his lips is the only response you’re met with. you frown and start to shake his shoulders, slightly harder than the last. even you’re clueless at how to wake up this overgrown cat.

you shake his shoulders again, a little more forcefully this time, your voice turning slightly desperate. “jing yuan, wake up!”

a groggy grunt escapes his lips, but he doesn’t open his eyes. he simply shifts, pulling you closer into his chest, his arm tightening around you like a vice. his breath brushes the top of your head, steady and slow, as if he’s determined to stay in this cozy, dream-filled state forever.

a huff escapes you. you’re now quite tempted to just risk all your strength to break free from jing yuan’s arms. strange how a slight change of your warmth from jing yuan’s embrace seem to be the only way to wake the general up.

instead, you think again and decide you best need the strength for the snack. to which you shift back to face jing yuan and slowly, kiss him.

that managed to do the trick.

one of jing yuan’s golden orbs open, the sleepiness still lingering but the notice of a kiss pressed against his cheek is noticeable only by you. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing and lining kisses to his lazy self could hold now.

”how cruel of my beloved waking me up from my sleep,” jing yuan whines like a child, to which you chuckle.

“thought a kiss would be my solution to getting you waking up for my hunger.”

jing yuan yawns widely, stretching a bit to wake up his numb muscles.

“at this hour?” he asks teasingly.

“yes, jing yuan.” you deadpan but still keep up his tease.

he lightly chuckles before lazily stretching, getting up and pulling the covers of the bed to the side. you follow suit.

“i should’ve known you’d wake me up for a snack, and yet i already know i wouldn’t be worthy of getting a bite of it.” jing yuan sleepily yawns again.

you roll your eyes playfully and start to walk towards the door and out to your kitchen.

“i’ll let you have a bite.”

— MYDEI

waking up mydei is like waking up a toddler from a nap, which is not very easy and thoughtfully not very pleasant. but unlike most toddlers, prizes won’t win over mydei’s head to wake up. and unfortunately, an empty and growling stomach isn’t a prize for neither of you in the middle of the night.

it’s not like you’re scared to wake up mydei or because being hungry is the reason you’re waking him up (it’s rather far from that), but because mydei has a habit of baking something far more prettier and tastier than a midnight snack should be, but you know you shouldn’t be complaining.

thinking again for another few minutes that seem like hours for your stomach, you decide that you’ll make it up to mydei in the morning with some kisses that always manage to have his heart secretly do cartwheels.

you slowly get up and turn to him.

“mydei, mydei wake up.” you softly nudge him in his cheek. he grumbles at the sound of your voice, burying his face towards your hip that he now acknowledges isn’t where your neck should be, laying down.

“mydei,” you say a little louder, shaking his shoulders. finally, he arouse from his slumber and narrowed his eyes towards you.

he lets out a raspy ‘hmm?’, bringing the blanket higher above his head.

“‘m hungry,” you confess, quickly trying to muffle a yawn. “could you make me something?”

you noticed the blanket covering his head was slowly falling down, letting the top part of his head peek out. “what?”

“i said i’m hungry,” you repeated yourself, a bit clearer. you gently rubbed your eyes to try and stay awake. “could you make me something to eat?” you repeated yourself, again in a hushed tone.

mydei’s eyes slowly crack open, the light from the street lamps outside casting a soft glow on his tired face. for a moment, it seems like he's still in the process of figuring out what you just said, blinking like he's forgotten where he is.

“… you woke me up because you’re hungry?”

you nod.

mydei groans, but you could tell it was light hearted.

despite mydei being the crowned prince of kremnos, holding up a title high and great, fighting off his enemies with blood, sweat, and tears, and maybe even a role far from his heart, a sight for sore eyes by the gentleness he possesses only for you leaves jaws dropped.

not to mention the clinginess that takes over him behind closed doors, and not much difference in bed. maybe it was a certain deliverer that manages to ruin the moment ever so often.

“pretty please?” your stomach growled lowly to prove your point.

sighing, mydei threw you a soft glare and tossed the blanket over his body. you heard some shuffling, indicating that he was finding his slippers.

“don’t resist starving yourself next time. eat before bed,”

you knew that his tone was only worried, way far from angry.

“what are you craving?” he asks softly.

“anything small will do,” you gave a small smile. “thank you.”

it was quite dark, so you weren’t able to see how red with blush mydei was.

— PHAINON

for the past few minutes, your stomach growled hungrily, unstoppable. and you can’t tell if you can wait any longer.

you’d hoped to endure it, but hunger was insistent, and the palace kitchens were a maze you’d only half-learned. navigating it alone in the dead of night? not ideal. but to wake up the sleepy phainon beside you was something you didn’t want to do, despite your stomach screaming for the fridge.

the guilt that lingers when you imagine how confused and tired phainon would look, only for him to learn you were only hungry and were scared of the dark to go down to the kitchens for a little snack.

you wince at how stupid that sounded.

you shift under the covers, debating for the hundredth time if it’s worth it. maybe if you just—

“... you’re breathing too loud to be asleep,” a soft, amused voice breaks through the quiet.

you jolt. next to you, phainon’s eyes are cracked open, a sliver of bright cyan catching the moonlight filtering through the windows. his silver hair is a mess, sticking out at odd angles from the pillow, and his voice is hoarse from sleep.

you try to smile. “sorry… did i wake you?”

he hums, low and lazy, like a cat basking in sun. “mmm. not really. you and your traitorous stomach did.”

you groan, face heating up as you pull the blanket up to your nose. “i didn’t want to bother you…”

“well, it’s too late for that,” he says with a grin, already sitting up and stretching one arm over his head. “besides, what kind of partner would i be if i let you starve to death five rooms away from a fridge?”

you glance at him. “the kitchens are a maze.”

“they are,” he agrees easily, slipping out of bed and offering you his hand. “but you’ve got me. and i have a flawless internal snack compass.”

you hesitate, still mildly embarrassed. “... it’s really dumb. i just didn’t want to go alone. and it’s dark.”

he stops, hand still outstretched, expression softening. “hey,” he says gently. “that’s not dumb.”

then, with a flash of his usual cheek: “it’s adorably mortal of you.”

you swat his arm lightly as he helps you up.

“you’re making fun of me.”

“only a little,” he says with a wink. “now c’mon. let’s find something for that stomach of yours. you deserve nothing less at 2:00 a.m.”

— SUNDAY

it was well past midnight when you felt that familiar rumble in your stomach. the faint light of the stars outside barely filtered through the window, but your craving for something to eat was undeniable. you tried to ignore it for a while, hoping it would pass, but no luck. you needed a midnight snack.

your gaze fell on sunday, his body curled up beside you, his face peaceful and serene as he slept. his warm presence was a comfort, but it only made the gnawing in your stomach worse. you glanced at the clock. late, far too late for a snack, but your need for food was greater than your sense of time.

you gently turned toward him, brushing the hair from his face. his long lashes fluttered briefly, and he let out a soft, contented sigh in his sleep, but didn’t stir. you smiled, grateful for how calm he always seemed.

but your stomach growled again.

“sunday…” you whispered, leaning closer and pressing your hand to his shoulder. his warmth was inviting, but you had to wake him.

with a soft huff, you leaned in, brushing your fingers through his feathered wings. the gentle motion did the trick. slowly, his eyelids fluttered, and his eyes cracked open just enough to squint in the dim light of the room.

his brow furrowed slightly, and he made a quiet noise, a soft, sleepy murmur, as if annoyed by the interruption.

“… mm? what is it..?” his voice was thick with sleep, barely more than a low hum, and his arm instinctively moved, pulling you closer to him. his fingers curled around your waist, holding you against his chest even in his half-conscious state.

you couldn’t help but smile, the warmth of his embrace making the hunger seem less urgent. “i’m hungry,” you murmured into his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath you.

his response came with a soft sigh, almost like he was disappointed. “really?” he groaned, his voice still clouded with sleep, but there was something tender in his tone, despite his deadpan delivery. "hungry, huh? at this hour?"

you sheepishly nodded against him, your fingers tracing circles on his arm. “i couldn’t help it…”

sunday’s eyes opened a little more, blinking slowly in the dim light. he adjusted his hold on you, his arms tightening around your body as he pulled you even closer. “you’re impossible,” he muttered, though there was no real bite behind the words. his tone was softer, more affectionate, and he nuzzled his face into your hair, his lips brushing your forehead. “can’t believe you woke me up for this…”

he sighed dramatically, clearly not impressed, but there was a soft warmth in his expression. “it’s the middle of the night,” he muttered, shifting to sit up, clearly disturbed by the interruption but still getting out of bed anyway.

you smiled at the sight of him, hair wild and face still drowsy, and suddenly, your stomach didn't feel so bad. “i know… but i really needed you to get up for this.”

he rubbed his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he was fighting a smile. “and here i thought you’d wake me for something important.”

“food is important!” you teased, grinning at him.

he shook his head, a soft laugh escaping him. "don’t get used to this.”

2K notes · View notes

venustulipz · 26 days ago

Note

Her name is Alma. She's my little girl.

Last night, she went to bed crying from hunger again. She whispered, “Daddy, I’m hungry…” And I had nothing to give her. Just silence. Just pain.

My name is Fayez, a father of three children, and we live in Gaza.

We are living under siege and starvation. The occupation blocks food and aid from reaching us. There’s no access to clean water, no electricity, and now we are facing a real famine. People especially children are dying from hunger.

I was injured in the war. But what hurts more is watching my children slowly waste away, while the world turns its face away.

💔 This is not just a message it's a desperate cry for help. From Gaza… to any human heart that still beats with compassion.

We don’t ask for luxury. We beg for basic survival: A meal. Clean water. A chance to live.

🙏 Please if you can donate. And if you can’t, share this message. Let someone, somewhere, hear us. Before it’s too late.

Please Donate now:👇

🔗 Donation Link

Please Reblog My Post :👇

📌 Post Link

please help

92 notes · View notes

venustulipz · 27 days ago

Note

Her name is Alma. She's my little girl.

Last night, she went to bed crying from hunger again. She whispered, “Daddy, I’m hungry…” And I had nothing to give her. Just silence. Just pain.

My name is Fayez, a father of three children, and we live in Gaza.

I was injured in the war. But what hurts more is watching my children slowly waste away, while the world turns its face away.

💔 This is not just a message it's a desperate cry for help. From Gaza… to any human heart that still beats with compassion.

We don’t ask for luxury. We beg for basic survival: A meal. Clean water. A chance to live.

🙏 Please if you can donate. And if you can’t, share this message. Let someone, somewhere, hear us. Before it’s too late.

Please Donate now:👇

🔗 Donation Link

Please Reblog My Post :👇

📌 Post Link

please help

92 notes · View notes

venustulipz · 28 days ago

Note

Can you write Aventurine's reaction to seeing his baby opening eyes for the first time and revealing Avgin eyes?

A World Worth Seeing

Summary: In the quiet of a desert nursery, Aventurine holds his newborn child for the first time. As the baby opens their eyes, the unmistakable mark of their shared Avgin lineage, Aventurine is overwhelmed by a flood of emotions. Memories of his painful past and the loss of his clan resurface, but so does a newfound hope. Determined to give his child a better future, Aventurine vows to protect them and ensure their life is free from the suffering he endured.

Tags: Dad!Aventurine, Parent-Child Bond, Emotional Reflection, Hope and Redemption, Avgin Heritage, Found Family, Fatherhood, Vulnerable Aventurine, Post-Trauma Healing.

Warnings: Mentions of Past Trauma, Brief Reference to Slavery and Loss, Emotional Content‼️

A/N: CRYING, THROWING UP, 😭 WHY?! Ahem, I love Dad Aventurine or dilfs in general, I hope this fic makes you cry‼️🤗💖🫶

The nursery was quiet, save for the soft hum of the desert wind filtering through the window. Aventurine sat beside the crib, his usually flamboyant demeanor replaced by an uncharacteristic stillness. In his arms rested a small bundle wrapped in soft, white fabric—his child. The baby stirred slightly, their tiny fists curling and uncurling, and Aventurine’s heart beat faster than it ever had at the gambling table.

He hadn’t prepared for this moment, not truly. For all his meticulous strategies and contingency plans, nothing could have readied him for the weight of fatherhood. He gazed down at the infant, his hair falling over his face as he adjusted the blanket.

“Come on, little one,” he whispered, his voice unsteady but warm. “Let me see those eyes.”

The baby stirred again, a soft whimper escaping their lips before they blinked slowly, their tiny eyelids fluttering open. Aventurine held his breath as two vibrant eyes were revealed—magenta and cyan, with the unmistakable black pupils of an Avgin.

His heart stopped.

For a moment, the world fell away. The distant sound of the wind disappeared, the weight of his past faded into silence, and all that remained was the tiny being in his arms. The sight of those eyes—so strikingly familiar yet entirely unique—triggered a torrent of emotions he wasn’t prepared to face.

Memories rushed in like an unbidden tide. His clan. His mother’s gentle voice. His sister’s laughter, long since silenced. The horrors he’d endured, the chains around his wrists, the pain of losing everything. And now, here was his child, carrying the unmistakable mark of their shared lineage. A lineage he had fought to preserve, even as he tried to bury its painful legacy.

Tears welled in Aventurine’s eyes, but he quickly blinked them away, his signature grin faltering for only a moment. “Well,” he finally managed, his voice soft and laced with an unfamiliar vulnerability, “aren’t you full of surprises, just like your old man.”

The baby cooed, their tiny fingers reaching out and gripping Aventurine’s thumb with surprising strength. He chuckled, a sound filled with both awe and disbelief. “You’ve got your Papa’s eyes, huh? I guess fate had a hand in this one.”

For the first time in years, Aventurine felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel: hope. This child was more than a reminder of his past—they were a chance at a future he never thought he could have. A future where his clan’s story didn’t have to end in tragedy. A future where this little one could live free, unshackled by the pain and cruelty that had shaped his own life.

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead. “Don’t worry, little star,” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly. “I’ll make sure you never have to face what I did. I’ll give you a world worth seeing with those beautiful eyes.”

The baby blinked up at him, their gaze curious and unclouded by the weight of the world. Aventurine smiled, his resolve solidifying like the roll of a perfect hand. Whatever risks he had to take, whatever games he had to play, he would do it all for them.

In that moment, holding his child with their shared Avgin heritage shining back at him, Aventurine realized he’d already won the most important gamble of his life.

If I see more Dad!Aventurine reqs, I'm gonna cry fr‼️😭💔😕

While writing this fic, I saw this, I'm not okay ☹️💔

798 notes · View notes

venustulipz · 30 days ago

Note

Hello,

Please, I kindly ask you not to ignore this message. Your support, even just sharing, could truly help my family. We recently shared our story of escaping Gaza and the painful journey to reunite as a family.

It has been devastating and overwhelming. We're doing everything we can, but we can't do it alone. Getting our story seen could truly change our lives. Every share, repost, or donation brings us one step closer to safety and to each other.

If you can take a moment to support us or spread the word, it would mean more than we can express.

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts. And we're truly sorry if this message feels out of place, we're just holding onto hope.

@mohamedandhisfamily

#lyney x reader #dr. ratio fluff #mydei x reader #phainon x reader #aventurine x reader #boothill x reader #hsr aventio #hsr ratiorine #hsr comic #boothill

84 notes · View notes

venustulipz · 30 days ago

Text

dr ratio's unique stratagems debuffs

(my twitter)

6K notes · View notes

venustulipz · 1 month ago

Text

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!

208 notes · View notes