#I wholeheartedly promise to never get Xiao's hair right | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lavandermin · 3 years

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if all stars fell at once (2) | xiao

pairing | xiao/reader

word count | 2.5k

genre | fluff, light angst, developing relationship, overall domestic

warnings | eventual smut

The moon was high behind the peaks of mountains; a deep navy sky clear in display of its many twinkling stars. Though the land was asleep, the crickets softly hummed their conversation and a few fireflies speckled the dark.

Perhaps it’s your high spirits at the change of routine and tender moment under falling stars, but the scenery around you has never looked more magical.

“If you continue to stare up at the sky while you walk, you’ll lose your footing and fall.”

You turned around at Xiao’s comment, face still alight with a grin you were sure made you look like a giddy child. The faint smile on his lips gave away his amusement.

“And if I do, will you be there to catch me?”

“Anywhere, anytime,” Xiao reassured, arms crossed over his chest.

Though it was a rhetorical question, the power his aura exuded as an adeptus solidified his words as not only a confirmation, but a promise.

Approaching the steps that lead further up the village to where your house was tucked away, you paused. Noticing this, Xiao looked up at you and was met with your outstretched hand— patient and waiting. His lips slightly parted in brief confusion, and the innocence his eyes held reminded you of a kitten curiously approaching something new.

Endearment. It pulled your heartstrings in the honeyed melody that had you in its audience.

There was brief hesitation. His gloved hand slowly settled into yours and he quietly allowed you to lead him up the stone steps of the winding hills. The warmth rose high on his cheeks, unnoticed by you as you led the way in your sleep-driven haze.

The exhaustion of the day seeped into your bones as you hobbled tiredly over to the familiar front door. Xiao watched attentively as you sluggishly fumbled around for a vase to hold your glaze lilies while getting ready for bed. Mortals were undeniably limited in their energy— always dependent on slumber and moments of rest to replenish and recharge their energy. However bothersome it seemed to Xiao before, seemed to have a change of heart upon seeing your switch in demeanor. It was… cute, and such thoughts filled him with the overwhelming need to just— hold you safely in his arms.

Gods… he was so touch starved and didn’t even know it. Such strange urges only served to further vex & confuse him.

Kneeling by your bedside, he pushed some hair out of your face. You were comfortably under a sea of blankets, the warmth of them quickly promising to have your wish come true. Through heavy lids, you gave him a goofy grin; mind aloof with lulls of sleep.

“Thank you for watching the stars with me.”

There you go again. Thanking him for such trivial and insignificant things. It flustered him. No— it made the fearsome Conqueror of Demons bashful.

“It’s nothing to thank me for,” Xiao uttered softly, fingers absentmindedly combing through your hair. You only hummed and relaxed into his touch in response, too tired to chide him.

“Did you mean it?” you groggily muttered from under your covers. “Wanting to get to know me more.”

Xiao nodded. “Rest now. We can talk later.”

The yaksha froze in his advances to leave, feeling the faintest tug on his sleeve.

“Stay… please, Xiao,” you begged weakly. “Just until I fall asleep.”

There was an uncharacteristic mix of fear and defeat in those words alone. It made his chest twinge with hurt. The wish you made earlier… Was sleep truly that difficult for you? He wondered what would impede your nights with restlessness. With a defeated sigh, the yaksha settled back next to you.

“Thank y–“ Xiao cut you off with a breathy chuckle, placing his hand over your eyes.

“Just sleep. I’ll stay.”

Not even two minutes had passed, yet you were already fast asleep. So, you were only keeping awake out of stubbornness… Somehow it no longer surprised him. Xiao watched as your breathing became steadier, face relaxed into your tranquil state of sleep.

Though the promise was only to stay until you were fast asleep, Xiao found himself unable to leave— unwilling to leave. To wish for enough sleep… it only left him wondering what the issue there was.

Perhaps a year ago he would have scoffed at the idea of trying to solve a human’s sleeping problem. My, how you've gotten him wrapped around your finger. Still, he sat in the dark room washed over by pale moonlight and stared absentmindedly at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts. Were you a light sleeper? Or perhaps it was insomnia, though it would contradict how fast you fell asleep. The only other possibility he could consider was an external force that came to make a ruckus at night.

Part of him was fighting to just leave. It was none of his business to be a sleep therapist.

I wish to get to know you better.

The wish he made— though he didn’t believe in mortals’ naive, wishful thinking, he truly did want to know you better. That single want was the thread that bound him to his current disposition.

Before he knew it, he had already stayed an hour. Muffled whimpering pulled him out of his thoughts as he glanced back over to you. There was a thin sheen of sweat on your forehead as you shifted around. Your brows were furrowed in discomfort and face in a frown that shifted from fear to stress.

Ah. Nightmares.

Somehow the thought had escaped him, and now he was reminded of the unpredictability of mortal dreams.

Dream eater. That’s what he once was. The memories of his past, the dreams he painfully consumed, were enough to raise bile in his throat in a suffocating feeling. He wasn’t sure how to help you. Comforting others was never his strong suit and the thought of eating your dream… It made his hand tremble. In anticipation or fear, he couldn’t say.

The hesitation was clear, seeping into his movements as his hand slowly drew closer over your head.

“It’s… okay,” he quietly reassured, awkwardly patting your head in what he attempted to be a comforting motion. “I’m right here.”

Slowly, your face eased into a more relaxed state. Your breathing returned to a steady rhythm as you settled back into a restful sleep. Perhaps the nightmare had already subsided for the time being.

Xiao hadn’t realized until now how his shoulders stiffened with lingering worry, nor how he had held his breath to see your expression change. He scoffed inwardly at himself, rising from the bed and descending back into the night to continue his eternal back-and-forth with the karmic debt that hung over his shoulders.

“I’ve long gone past the point of no return.”

——

“Emissary Ganyu, what a pleasant surprise running into you today.” You warmly greeted the busy-bee secretary of Yuehai Pavilion. Her entrance to Bubu Pharmacy was graceful, and she warmly reciprocated the greeting.

Slight embarrassment dusted her cheeks as she privately added, “P-Please, the formality is a little… You don’t have to use the titles. I’m content with just being Ganyu when we meet.” She waved a hand dismissively at herself. “But I digress, what brings you here today?”

With a tired sigh and halfhearted smile, you gestured toward the box of medicine herbalist Gui was packing for you. “Nothing severe. I just ran out of medicine for headaches and remedies for stress.”

Ganyu’s expression softened with knowing concern. “Has sleep become an issue once again?”

You nodded, handing the herbalist what you owed with a grateful ‘thank you’. “Slept rather well last night at least. I feel fine today,” you reassure with a smile.

Being alive as long as she has, Ganyu has known your family for generations and witnessed all that has traversed them for as long as she can remember. The stresses that ail you— the sources of your sleeplessness— Ganyu knew them well.

The sole remaining descendant of your family. Perhaps she saw herself in you, and that’s why she kept her promise to your grandmother of being someone you could rely on.

“That’s a relief to hear,” Ganyu sighed, expression relaxing from its worry. “I came here to drop off licensing renewals and paperwork for Baizhu. If you’re feeling up to it, we can catch up with a quick lunch.”

Ever the busy-body, you mused fondly.

“I’d like that.”

Never a dull moment with her, Ganyu was quick to get you in step with her schedule flow. Luckily, you were rested enough to keep up with her today.

You anxiously fiddled with the napkin on your lap. “Isn't this a bit… much?”

Seated within the highly-regarded Liuli Pavilion, you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. Such enticing dishes laid out before you… smelled expensive. It wasn’t the first time you’d been brought to eat here with her, and though it was a rarity you were still never one to indulge too much in lavish luxury from the city.

“Not at all,” Ganyu wholeheartedly reassured. “It's my treat for such a rare occasion.”

“You spoil me, Gan…”

As you both idly chatted over delicately prepared meals, you couldn’t help but notice the not-so-subtle glances Ganyu would take toward your lap every now and then. With a half-hearted sigh and a growing smile that betrayed your feigned exasperation, you set down your utensils.

“Okay. Alright.” Ganyu’s eyes sparkled, already knowing you caved. “Just ask what you want.”

“The charm,” she started, eyes intently observing the small charm that dangled securely from your hip. Never one to miss something new about you. The attentiveness from the adeptal blood that flowed within her, presumably. “Where did you get it? Ah! Pardon my prying— I don’t mean to be nosy...”

With delicate fingers, you picked it up, eyes glossing over it. The beat of your heart picked up ever so slightly.

“It was a gift.”

Left next to the vase of glaze lilies, the glint of the charm catching the morning light drew your attention toward it. You delicately picked up the item, tracing the butterfly engraved on the wooden diamond with your fingertip. The piece of amber that dangled from it with an ornate tassel was warm on your palm.

A single note on a small piece of parchment laid next to it.

‘An adepti amulet to stave off evil. Should you need me, call my name.’

“Xiao…” Ganyu started, clasping your hand in hers. “He must truly consider you someone special. It’s not often he gives gifts— despite how surprisingly skilled he is in intricate crafts.”

Warm and fuzzy, your chest pounded with overwhelming emotion. A handmade amulet… It was beautiful in its simplicity, and carried meaning in its subtle details you had yet to decipher. You had to remember to thank him for it later.

“He’s a very gentle person. I’d also… like to get to know him better,” you absentmindedly mused, recalling that mysterious masked boy caught in the thundering rain all those months ago. Though reserved and self-guarded, Xiao was never anything but polite albeit a bit distanced for a while.

It seems they get along well together, Ganyu noted, gaze holding a tender fondness like one would with a sibling. Maybe this was the new walk of life you needed when all other roads were erased.

——

“Can’t I just-”

“No.”

You huffed through your nose, exasperated. “You’re being unfair.” Xiao only raised a brow in response.

“An adeptus prolonging your lifespan would be considered a divine blessing to any other mortal out there,” he countered, pushing you back into bed with a gentle nudge that you didn’t fight back. “Rest.”

Making me go to bed early is some divine blessing... Such sarcasm you would keep between yourself and your thoughts alone.

“Xiao, it’s only nine o’clock! The moon just barely appeared in the sky. And with the Lantern Rite just around the corner, I want to get as much of my part finished.” But your protests fell on deaf ears as he continued to diligently pile on any blankets he could get his hands on. With a defeated sigh, you allowed your body to sink more comfortably into the mattress. “Is something wrong?”

Your voice came quiet, the question lingering with worry as Xiao sat on the edge of the bed— his back facing you. Oftentimes it was still hard to tell what he was thinking, for there was a lot about his past that was unknown to you and it seemed to weigh heavily on his mind recently. He didn’t need to tell you for you to know there were things he wasn’t voicing— not without your encouragement and patient reassurance.

“Can I ask?” Xiao started, his voice rather quiet like he was afraid of overstepping a boundary. “Your nightmares— how often do they haunt you?”

You were taken aback. “A-Ah, you saw…?”

With a silent nod, the bed creaked as he readjusted himself to finally face you. “That night you told me to stay… You looked distressed in your sleep.”

“They only happen sometimes,” you reassured half-heartedly with a dismissive wave of your hand. The subtle, sharpened squint of his eyes told you he saw right through your downplay.

“Lies will do you no good. But in regards to them, I...”

Xiao paused, looking away briefly. The way he avoided your gaze, the jaded look in his amber eyes— there was something he was fighting with himself to say.

“I can get rid of them, if you wish it.”

You blinked, eyes widening slightly in confused curiosity. “You can… do that?”

At this point, you would take any method to end some of your daily exhaustion. But the way his hands balled into fists at his lap suggested he didn’t have a good history with it. Still, he nodded, his eyes closed as he concentrated on grounding himself— convincing himself to tell you. Now that he had propositioned it, there was no turning back. He had to explain it but the memories—the screams— they stopped the words at his throat.

His mind was going a mile a minute in a constant war, the resolve to see through what he had started diminishing. Yet all at once, it stopped and his eyes shifted down to your quiet reassurance— your hand placed atop his fist. He took a steadying breath.

“I’ve eaten dreams before,” Xiao started, eyes closed as he reminisced. “There exist several methods developed over centuries to perform it. Many are painless and safe. A nightmare or a dream—either can be eaten and it would be as if you had no recollection of it afterwards.”

“So… it wipes it from my memory?”

“In a similar concept, yes.”

You nodded slowly, brows scrunched in thought as you processed the idea.

“Do you trust me with doing this, should you have nightmares?”

All it took was a moment. You were quick to melt away his doubts with the warmth that radiated from your softening gaze. And with a gentle squeeze to his hand, you replied.

“I trust you.”

#adeptus xiao #xiao #xiao/reader #genshin xiao #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #eventual smut #developing relationship #mii writes #genshin fanfic #fluff #xiao fluff #pwp #ganyu #genshin ganyu #fic: iasfao

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cheelduh · 3 years

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How to tie up a cute boy

(Highschool Au)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Parts: 1 2 3

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Swearing, Scaramouche abuse, no Signora slander this time, shit humour.

Synopsis: "Why are you doing homework?" Childe groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

Note: Unedited yet again besties. Tysm for reading :) I got Childe after losing him to mf MONA, istg it was the most stressful moment of my life.

The clock ticks with its pendulum, ridiculing you as it holds the time. The gentle whirring of the air conditioning in the background serves as the icing on the cake to your pent up aggression.

You try not to glare at your phone too much after receiving a text from Childe that told you not to worry, that his dad picked him up and that he was in the comfort of his home, letting the flu blow over.

It took a lot of convincing from his part earlier that morning to get you to go back and actually attend the rest of your classes, making sure to check up on him every break plus the additional "bathroom breaks" you usually never take while in class.

"I can't let you get in trouble for me." He murmured with a small smile that pumped your blood a little faster than usual. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry your pretty little head."

You do exactly that.

You don't even know why you're so worried. He's sick, not dying. Not to mention, you aren't even his girlfriend let alone his friend to care so much.

Your intrusive thoughts don't waste any time. You latch onto the one thought that takes over. He's probably dead. Lying in his bed in a heap of pillows, passing peacefully while his parents are in the other room. He's dead.

Okay, he's not dead. You intrusive thoughts sure do one hell of a job. He'll be fine, and in no time he'll go back to being a reckless distraction in your life that you need to surpass. Just another obstacle to add onto the list of things life has thrown at you.

But for an obstacle, he sure is kind of cute.

You refrain from bashing your head on the desk. School isn't really a preferred environment on your list of top ten places to shrivel up and die.

Speaking of death and all that is evil, why is Childe always on your mind? He takes up every nook and cranny of your day, constantly, and truth be told it's starting to boil your piss.

Every time you close your eyes you see his smug smile, and hear his stupid laugh. He's an annoying little prick who gets a rise out of exasperating you. Yet here you are, terrified by the warmth that blossoms in your heart when you so much as hear his name.

The final bell rings at long last, conveniently before you bite your tongue to avoid screaming, and not another second is wasted once you launch yourself out the door. You dodge through the crowd of students in the hall that are buzzing in excitement from it being a Friday afternoon, and you would be too if you weren't so damn hung up over a ginger with a battlekink.

Locker in view, you make a beeline and spend the next two minutes fumbling with the lock in your hands.

"Woah there cutie," Lisa speaks up playfully. "At this rate you'll break the poor lock with your bare hands."

For a moment you're surprised at her sudden appearance, but then remember that it's normal for her to worm her way anywhere.

"It's just—this lock is being dumb okay? It has no reason being a pain in my ass but it wakes up every day and chooses violence." You hiss through your teeth, a sharp metallic ring invading your ears when you lose it and jostle the combination lock against the door of your locker.

Lisa winces, but smiles teasingly nonetheless. "Want me to give it a try?"

"Please."

Lisa has the door open at record speed.

"I love you Lisa." You confess wholeheartedly, gripping at your chest. "I love you so much—"

"Yeah yeah," She waves you off with a grin. "Now hurry up and go save your boyfriend from the common flu. Archons knows he won't make the night."

You flush at the word "boyfriend" and don't give much thought to the insinuation that lies within the rest of her sentence.

Sliding your skateboard under an arm, you spin on your heel just to bump straight into Scaramouche, who's won the scowl of the century on his face. He's the last person you want to see right now, but apparently the universe wants to have a pissing match with you.

"Give this homework to that idiot Ginger." He shoves a stack of papers into you. "Tell him that once he's done circling the drain, I'm gonna kick his ass." He then leans in, murderous glint in his eyes. "And if you ever touch me again I'll take a shit in your cereal. That's not a threat, it's a promise."

You shiver at the thought of him squatting on your Cheerios, hands becoming clammy as you try and justify yourself. "It was an accident."

Your pitiful excuse earns you nothing from the navy haired boy. "It'll be an accident when I murder your entire family, three generations over."

"Hi Mona!" You wave excitedly over his shoulder at the body of students that are totally not Mona. With elation he fails to conceal, Scaramouche turns to look at the speed of light.

You take the chance to make your escape—not before waving to Lisa, chuckling to yourself. He's down bad.

With great expertise you file your way through the flock of students chattering near the entrance. , you confidently place your skateboard down on the sidewalk, ready to—

Wait—where does he live again?

You sigh heavily, ignoring the sadness as you thank the universe internally for pulling the reigns on your disastrous plan. Checking up on Childe at his house? With his family present? Making a complete fool out of yourself? What are you thinking? The possibilities are horrendous. He probably doesn't even think of you like that, he just likes a challenge and you pose as one.

You turn away to make a run for it in the direction of your home, all the while ignoring the nagging worry in your chest for Childe. He's probably fine anyways, you don't need to check up on him, and if you did he'd likely find a way to spin it and tease you relentlessly.

Although somehow, the thought of being teased by him isn't as dreadful as you'd like it to be.

Suddenly, an idea graces you, one that guarantees your misery by sating your obligation to check up on Childe. A litany of curses escape your mouth. Genius really, the amount of ways you can think of doing something that'll end in your demise.

"Adeptus Xiao." You whisper apprehensively, already regretting your decision. "Adeptus Xiao." Glancing around your surroundings, you barely notice the shadow that looms over you at your backside.

"What do you want mortal?" Unbeknownst to you, he strikes out of nowhere, making you jump back several meters. You manage to muffle a surprised shriek.

Xiao is Venti's -6 ft boyfriend, the vicious epitome of an eboy. He has a scaled tattoo covering up the majority of an arm, a few piercing holes in his ears, all matched up with a disinterested look. Somehow, he always appears out of nowhere if you call out his name. It's sort of disturbing in a way.

His amber eyes pierce through you, forcing a shudder of fear and dread to lace your blood, almost as if he can sense you shittalking him in your head.

With shaky hands, you ask, "Can you tell me where—"

"No."

"You didn't even hear me ou—"

"No."

"Please?"

He refuses to at least pretend to think about it for a moment.

"No."

"Why?" You frown, stomping your foot on the ground childishly.

"Because." He retorts with a lack of interest, but doesn't further explain his point. English teachers must love this kid.

"Okay," You say slowly, casually inspecting his form as you come up with an idea, briefly remembering Lumine mentioning it to you. "How about I give you my share on almond tofu Tuesday."

The lack of interest on his face wavers slightly. Bingo.

"What do you want mortal?" Xiao mutters gruffly, arms crossed, face morphing into subtle annoyance.

You wrack your brain for a proper answer. You can't just outright ask him or it'll seem like you have a thing for Childe, which you unfortunately do, but you'd like to keep a semblance of integrity. Ah yes, the homework!

"I gotta deliver these to Childe." You outstretch the pile of worksheets in your hands. "Except I don't know where he lives. Can you tell me?"

Xiao's eyes glint with danger. "Did you summon me for the trivial task of giving you an address?"

You nod furiously.

"Do humans have no shame?" Its rhetorical. Expressionlessly, he closes his eyes with intent focus, doing what you assume to be locating Childe's exact location.

He blinks an eye open, reaches a hand out. "Give me your phone." Palm waiting.

You hand it over to him almost desperately.

One glance at your bubbly phone case and he doesn't even try to hide his distaste. He taps a few times, then hands it back to you almost immediately.

On the screen is maps, and Childe's home is about a fifteen minute walk away.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

"Easy," He mutters, leaning back against the school gate as the remainder of students walk past the two of you. "Locating demons that need subjugating is but a simple task."

There's a pregnant pause. Demon.

"Childe's a demon?" You gasp, even though you've always had your suspicions. Hence the reason you invest so much in demon-cancelling charms.

"What? No." He mutters with a roll of his eyes, and you note that his irritation grows the more questions you ask. "I had a physics project with him last semester."

That's why the charms don't work.

Your mouth forms an o, in fear that if you keep this conversation going on any longer, he'll snap at you. Especially when your next line of interrogation involves how he's able to appear and disappear into thin air.

It's a magic trick you'll want to master whenever Il Dottore has another conniption fit in the middle of the hallways after Kaeya tells him he looks like he has skid marks.

"Thank you." You say instead, trying to preserve his regard, but by the time you meet his gaze he's already gone with the wind.

—

Childe's home is surprisingly humble, considering the amount of fat stacks of cash he carries around in his fanny pack so care-freely. It's a normal suburban home from what you can tell, a little bigger than normal with a double garage, neatly mowed lawn and a few forgotten decorations from the windblume festival. A series of water guns lay forgotten near the entrance, making their presence known when you stumbled upon them.

It's hard to remain unphased. Especially since such a normal looking home has bred someone as ruthless as Childe.

Maybe it not the home, you think. Maybe it's the way he was raised. You recall a few glimpses of his mother in middle school, but because of your worse for wear memory retention, you can't ballpark her personality type.

As your thoughts wander further down to his parents and early childhood, villain origin story and what not, you're pulled out of your concentration when the door opens. The possible implications of being here are most definitely not in your favor.

Childe's mother is a stunning woman in her mid-forties who sure as hell doesn't show it in that jaw-dropping sapphire dress, topped off with a brilliant smile that makes your knees weak. Like mother like son, you suppose.

With her sudden appearance, strangely enough, you can remember how good her tiramisu bites are.

You take a moment to respond, swallowing thickly, only to stare at her stupidly.

His mother doesn't waste another second before ushering you in, oblivious to your star-struck expression. "Y/N? L/N Y/N? My have you grown. I remember when you were only this tall." She lifts her hand up a little above her waist, the jewels on her fingers dazzling with every movement. "How is your mother doing?"

"She's doing alright, busy with the clinic." You're able to find your words, smiling back at her, able to get somewhat familiar with her warmth. "I hope I'm not intruding. Childe forgot some homework." You say, heaving the short stack up.

"Ajax?" She laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe he's going by that now. I wonder when this phase will be over. He may act tough but he's such a softie, has the biggest heart."

You, in between concealed emotions and giggles that threaten to leak, try to hide the oncoming grin but it's impossible. "Well he's got you to thank for it."

"You flatter me too much Y/N," She fixes the up do, pinning back the blonde hair that deftly frame her familiar cerulean eyes. "I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Her words make you waver momentarily. The fondness you've refused to share, the drawn out stares in the halls, the lingering touches, you don't want to acknowledge it but it's there. Whatever it is.

"I'm so sorry for cutting this short dear," His mother sighs, grabbing her keys off the counter and placing her wallet in an elegant handbag. "My niece is getting married and we're already late. I told Ajax I'd stay if he didn't feel too well but he said he could handle a headache. That boy, I swear, always tries to power through."

You nod in understanding, but wait a minute. A headache?

Scrunching up your face, eyebrows furrowed, you ask. "Headache?"

She frowns, applying another layer of her rouge lipstick hastily in a nearby mirror. "I know dear, how unfortunate. The school nurse said it's a migraine, and I shouldn't fret much, but a mother can't help but worry. If only he weren't so stubborn, like his father."

As if on cue, a loud honk comes from outside.

"That must be him!" She exclaims, hurriedly sliding in her heels, turning back to look at your awkward figure. "Ajax is in his room, it's the second door to the right upstairs. I've made some lasagna for the kids, you ought to have some as well, I'll be upset if you don't—" Another annoying honk cuts her off, to which she scoffs, shaking a fist. "That old man, I'll strangle him in his sleep. I must be going now, goodbye dear." She reveals a twinkling smile at you one last time, waving a slim hand before picking up her heels and making a run for it.

The door closes with an unceremonious thud, gust of wind in its trail, leaving a bewildered high schooler in its wake.

Snapping out of your haze, overwhelming tides threaten to drown you whole. Being in Childe's home, alone, with him a handful of stair steps and a wall or two away, your cheeks are set ablaze.

Now that his mother's gone, you take a second to really look. There are a few toys littered in front of the TV, home covered in with soft throws and coordinated cushions, a lazy sectional plopped right in the middle. The marks on the furniture with all the stories, the light hued mismatched frames hanging on the walls and on all the table, so many pictures of those that resemble him, his brothers, his sisters, his family. You can almost hear the echoing laughter in the halls, the childish squeals and pitter patter of tiny feet slapping the hardwood floor.

This is where he grew up. This is where he retires to after a long day full of gratifying fistfights. This is where he was raised to be who he is today, ambitious and reckless, with the absurd dream to one day rule the world. This is his home.

It's...like being wrapped in blanket, safe and cozy, surrounded by all the love in the world.

Absentmindedly, your fingers trace the outlines of a younger Childe, two missing teeth and eyes full of dreams, hugging the side of his father's shoulder because his small arms can't wrap around them. Not just yet.

You make your way over to the staircase, which has even more frames littered across the wall, one that falls short of hiding the marks of a green crayon—another slice of domesticity you aren't quite accustomed to.

The reality sets in, and you come to a conclusion. This home is definitely not an environment for growing psychopaths, Childe just beats the odds like he beats up kids on the daily.

Your fist hovers over his door as you contemplate abandoning the sheets on a nearby table, but his mother was so sweet and polite, so incredibly hospitable, you wouldn't have the heart to make a run for it.

"I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Three consecutive knocks. If he doesn't answer, you'll leave them at the door.

"Mama," Childe's muffled groans stem from the other side, and oh, you want to revel in the grave undertone of his voice because it's certainly not a common occurrence. "I told you I'm fine. You can go okay? I don't want you to be late, just need to sleep it off."

You blink, lips curling, and then knock again.

"Mama," He whines again, and it has you grinning mischievously. He's a mommy's boy, he has to be. The thought envelopes your heart with a newfound fondness. "Just come in and hurry."

You eagerly take in the room once you slip in, eyes scanning over every little detail, until they zero in on the heap of sheets smack dab on the single bed, a pair of feet dangling off the edge, topped with a comforter thrown over leisurely.

Childe's facing away from you, head dipped in between his shoulders, probably trying to find a position that's more comfortable. He's shivering, sweating at the same time. His mother must've been too preoccupied to notice. This isn't the first time he's used his exceptional bullshitting finesse.

"I can't believe you lied to your mother," You cross your arms, leaning back against the door.

With a jerk, Childe flings into a sitting up position, wide awake and aware of everything that is going on, a stark contrast from nearly seconds ago.

He blinks at you in shock, once, twice, rubs his eyes a bit, relaxes, then leans back, out of it completely. "For a sleep paralysis monster, you sure are kind of cute."

"For and idiot you sure are an idiot." You snort back.

"Wait a minute," He mutters slowly, jaw dropping. "You're actually here?!"

Ignoring his question, you opt to slap the papers on his desk to ignore your clammy palms. "Homework."

"And here I thought you came here all this way to be my personal nurse." He smirks, recovering from his momentary shock fairly swiftly. Doesn't refrain from giving you that shit stain of a bad boy grin, even with a flushed face and concavity under his eyes.

"I can be your personal mortician instead."

"I didn't know you were into role play babe, but I'll take what I can get." He winks, but is punished by a sequence of coughs that earn a wince from you.

"Headache?" You tease after he quiets down, but he remains as cavalier as always.

He sighs, sides of his lips still arched upwards. "My parents barely have any time to themselves, it's so hectic with the kids. What kind of son would I be if I couldn't even give them this?"

He must've threatened Barbara.

"You're," You inhale, briefly letting the silence hang between you two, mulling over what you wish to convey. sweet.

"Irresistible? Hot? Sexy?" He starts casual, arrogant smirk widening.

"Kind of not a complete asshole, is what I was going to say."

"Careful girlie," He narrows his eyes on you, playful lilt in his tone. The comforter is allowed to slip past his shoulders to reveal the goods that lie underneath, the complete naked chest of a post-puberty highschool boy who sprays too much axe. Full pectorals are something to pay for, stringed with smooth muscles that ripple their way over his toned shoulders. "If you keep teasing me like this, I can't promise I'll be the nice guy."

"One more time from the top," You bite back, avoiding staring at him for too long. "Without the congested nose this time."

With great expertise, he weakly throws a pillow at you, and you watch it exceptionally land at your feet, barely grazing the tips of your socks.

"Impressive," You whistle, not impressed.

He pouts, shivers, then is dunking his head back into the welcoming embrace of his plush collection of pillows.

With a sigh, you plop down on his chair, grab a pen and begin calculating derivatives.

"What're you doing?" He doesn't even turn your way, voice muffled.

"Homework," You reply nonchalantly, trying to calm your nerves. "unless you want me to get you something to eat, considering you puked out your gogurt on Barbara's shoes earlier. Congrats by the way, you're hit listed by her fan club."

"Why are you doing homework?" He groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

He really has an IQ below room temperature.

Burying the formidable obligation to clock him in the face on behalf of society, you slowly get up to approach his bed, to which he grins widely in disbelief.

Apprehensively, you climb onto his bed, and he scoots over, excitement as clear as day. His hair's a wild mess from all the shifting, almost makes you want to card a hand through it. Your heart nestles it's way in your throat at the sight of his blazing blue eyes.

You pity him for what you're about to do.

"Relax Childe," You lean over him with confidence you never knew you had to begin with, face hovering inches before his. Your fists strategically grip the comforter on either side of him. "We have all day after all."

Although you attempt to pay no heed to his quivering hand that snakes up to find solace on your hip, you momentarily shiver at the tenderness.

He's eating this up and leaving no crumbs. Closing his eyes in anticipation, his lips tremble when he tries to close in the distance.

Abruptly, you cross both handfuls of sheets over his body, tying them securely in place to keep him docile. He struggles in your grip, eyes snapping open in surprise. "Wuh-What."

"Did you really think you had a chance?" You cross your arms, stepping back to get a good look at your handiwork.

"Honestly?" Childe huffs, struggles some in his restraints. "I wasn't really thinking."

"Typical," You scrunch your nose up, unscrunch, and then exhale. "You stay here and I'll go make you some soup. Well, not that you can really move but you get the idea."

"You're really going to leave me here like this?" He pouts cutely, melting you, and the sick bastard knows of his power.

"Relax," You wave a hand, "I may be evil but I'm not Scaramouche."

Meanwhile, Scaramouche sneezes as he tries to ask Mona out, falling straight on his ass from the kick back, making a complete fool out of himself. Mona doesn't mind though, finds it endearing.

Back at Childe's room, he raises a brow, expectant.

Going through the five stages of grief, you do something you've been wanting to do for a while, succumbing to the immense feeling.

Closing in the distance between you two, you suck in a breath and gently tilt Childe's head to the side. He blinks quickly, not quite expecting your sudden forwardness, about to say something that doesn't matter as soon as you place a tender peck on the side of his cheek.

Time stops, the world coming to a halt completely. A moment made in history, one you won't ever forget, fresh in both your minds from forward on.

And then you stagger away as if you've been stabbed.

"Soup!" You squeak, appalled by the sheer boldness of your actions. "I'll go make soup while you rest."

Childe, frozen, stares at you incredibly confused, and then beams.

Dear Archons, what have you done.

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