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yoimix · 1 year

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genshin men + first kiss ★ pt. 2

ft. kazuha, xiao, scaramouche

✽ kazuha’s gaze lingers over your lips long enough for anybody else to get the hint—anybody but you, of course. but how could you? when you’re unable to stay still, even under the warm beach sun, as soon as he smiles at you. seasickness has never haunted you as much as lovesickness has. yes, you want to hold him and yes, you can’t return his gaze for longer than two seconds. love is hard for travelers without destinations. and love is hard for you, who can’t see beyond his words, at the gaping meaning: i like you. in more ways than one. you were never a poet to begin with. so you cast aside these feelings overboard and into the sea, leaving kazuha sighing more often than beidou has patience for. and that means, she’s decided to leave the two of you stranded on an island off the coast of liyue (‘an easy little comission’, she dubs) till you can figure your feelings out, or get eaten by mitachurls. tough love makes the crux go around.

“i’ve cleared the camps on the right,” kazuha notifies, sheathing his sword.

“i-i’ve done my part on the left,” you respond right away, taking a gulp of air.

under the light breeze of summer, you’re tugged even more towards the man at the base of the rock you sit upon.

“woah, careful!” he exclaims, holding you right in time before you trip off the rock and onto the sand.

“th-thanks,” you mutter.

and even under the light breeze of summer, the air is heavy with your repressed emotions. you can thank kazuha’s steady hand on your back for catalyzing the flow of blood to your face.

“will you... let go?” you look away quickly, retracting your hand.

“oh! i’m sorry.” he quickly removes his hand from your body and you almost regret it. there must be better ways to rid of this awkwardness. you’ve been friends for far too long to experience it, and it’s only started intruding after you realized your feelings.

the sound of waves crashing against the beach laces his sigh.

“(name), i’m not quite sure how much longer i can keep at this.”

“huh? what do you mean?”

“i have professed my love, have i not?”

“you-...you’ve what now?”

kazuha furrows his brows before a short, melodic laughs leaves his lips. it eases your heart the way same as the waves do. you look at him in anticipation, the bubbles in your stomach contained as they wait for a moment to pop.

“ah,” he sighs, still smiling, “i don’t know if this is the right time then.”

“what, standing in between two hilichurl camps?”

“yes, there’s that. but the view of the sea is still grand, wouldn’t you say so?”

kazuha has his autumn eyes on you, unwavering till they fixate on your lips. no sea song remains on his, no poem, no cryptic words of affection—only their feather touch against yours and sigh so soft it can’t be heard over the ocean.

you gasp, the sensation only a moment long and he pulls away.

“sorry,” he chuckles. “you looked beautiful. i couldn’t possibly describe it in sea melodies any longer—“

“please shut up and kiss me again,” you huff, blood rushing to your ears. “i can’t stand a single word of yours, not when i can’t ever get what you mean.”

kazuha blinks at your interruption, before covering his mouth with his palm to keep himself from laughing. before you can feel dismayed, he takes a step closer and you, one back against the rock.

he smiles, his palm against your cheek and your heart in your throat before you can protest. you did request it.

“if it is meaning you want, i shall give you plenty.”

and with that, his oh-so-precious lips are on yours again.

✽ xiao isn’t too familiar with the mundane customs of human life, most of human behavior bizarre to him. what’s most bizarre, however, is how often you ask to kiss him. he turns it down, the thought outrageous, even though he himself pledged his heart and soul to you. he can call you his lover in private, when the word is just a whisper leaving his lips to grace only your ears. unfortunately, it will take time for him to understand the gesture of pressing his lips to yours, no matter how soft they look. and though cheeky in your attempts to sneak in kisses, you wait patiently for him to warm up to the idea. but it is rather exhausting, and combined with your busy work schedule for the week, you find yourself dozing off on xiao’s shoulder in your little liyue bedroom with not a single kiss stolen. you were too tired to tease him today.

“is this truly comfortable?” xiao asks quietly. “you’re so strange, (name).”

you grumble, snuggling closer to him to wrap your arms around him. while innocent, xiao did not expect you to pull him into bed with you. he holds his breath as you get comfortable, your arm dangling over his waist lazily and your cheek resting against his shoulder. he peers down, the sight of you so relaxed making him release his breath in a softened sigh.

well, what does he know? it must be comfortable even if it’s him you’re clinging to—with his curses and blemishes, his blood-soaked clothes and war-stained hands. you caress his skin without a care, and wherever you draw your touch, it’s like you purify him bit by bit.

“you’re so bright,” he mumbles.

when he looks back at you, you’re blissfully asleep. he reaches for the pillow near the edge, placing it below your head while he carefully removes his arm. oh, how he swore he wouldn’t fall in love.

bending down, he brushes his lips against your forehead. this is the gesture, is it not? he’s seen people in love do it. it’s endearing how peaceful you can be when you sleep, while also getting on every single nerve of his awake.

“good night, (name),” he whispers.

before he can fully rise, however, you peck his lips, the action effectively stunning him into paralysis.

“gotcha!”

you grin, though sleepy. when he doesn’t move, however, you grow worried.

“xiao? sorry if that was sudden. i didn’t mean to—hmpf!”

his lips are pressed against yours with much more pressure than you anticipated and it takes a while to ease into the kiss. he sighs when he pulls back, face glowing crimson under the faint moonlight.

“so... does that mean you liked it?”

“…no.”

✽ scaramouche is stiff and awkward with you around. it would be practically impossible to tell apart his feelings if you weren’t so good at reading them. you encourage him with little nudges and smiles, enough to elicit an eye roll or a riled up complaint. you do enjoy seeing him that way but you often wish you could see him a tad gentler. after all, you do believe there is something gentle at the core of the storm that plagues him. despite his constant threats and warnings, his gaze often flickers to your lips till he’s annoyed himself with the idea of them. you’re sure you can call each other friends now, even though he’s nothing but prickly. but you have faith in his engineered heart, a heart working beyond its creator’s understanding, a magnum opus. and nothing will ever come so close to his heart as you do, even if he can’t admit it. emotions are weaknesses and you, his biggest flaw.

“don’t be stupid,” scaramouche snarls. “it’s a suicide mission for the likes of you.”

“ah. are you afraid you’ll lose me?” you giggle. the rest of the fatui do admire how calm you can be around him. you just think it requires a bit of patience, patience you’re willing to give to him.

“you’re disgusting,” he huffs. “stop assuming things and—”

“you want to kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid.” a teasing grin has plastered itself onto your face, so insufferable you’re sure he’ll tear you apart any moment.

there’s a moment of silence, the fallen snow a quiet audience and you think you’ve finally done it. you’ve short circuited the puppet’s wiring and he can finally be better off without it.

“oh dear, have i finally shut you—“

you feel lips against yours, and an arm around your waist with a hand supporting the back of your neck. this was the last thing you expected, your heart firing up rapidly till you can return the kiss.

he pulls away, unable to meet your eyes. you can see, however, how red his skin is all the way down to his neck.

“you’re beautiful,” you say, a soft smile playing on your lips.

he returns a glare. “why do you say that?”

“your feelings are beautiful.”

he breathes in sharply, clearly annoyed. “i fucking hate you.”

“i don’t mind. i like how you express your feelings. it’s very human.”

“how dare you?” he hisses, “you know the truth, and yet you still call them beautiful? the very reason i was discarded?”

“yes,” you whisper, stepping in even closer. “weaknesses are what make people strive to be stronger. you’re more human than you realize.”

“you’re pissing me off,” he seethes, grabbing you by the shoulders. “stop calling me human.”

“it’s no so bad,” you hum. “for example… isn’t this feeling quite nice?”

you lean forward and place your mouth over his, the gesture immediately relaxing his muscles. he will never admit it, but you hold him in a grasp tighter than he shows.

when you pull back again, there is a kind of sorrow in his eyes, sorrow not humanly possible to describe.

“will you stay with me, then?” his tone is finally gentle. “or will you abandon me like the rest?”

“only death will keep me from you, my dear,” you giggle.

“then teyvat will burn before i let you die.”

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yoimix · 2 years

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「 botany for dummies 」

TIGHNARI wishes once in a while, and once in a while only, that his ears weren’t so obvious.

the way they perk up at your name, twitch at the sign of your arrival and droop ever so slightly at your departure; tighnari feels uncomfortable. the movements are subtle, barely noticeable even by those closest to him, but they occur beyond his control nonetheless. as a researcher, though he disregards akademiya laws left and right, he believes this goes against his own code of conduct.

even if you are an old friend from sumeru akademiya who he had horrifically repressed feelings for. your refusal to leave him alone is like adding crushed harra fruit to a wound. it’s impossible to have peace of mind with you around.

you help him with the marana despite the rangers’ protests, you pick mushrooms for him to discern as sick or healthy, you bring him lotuses even if he never asked you to. to be honest, he’s flattered you remember his fondness of them. he could get used to this, he thinks to himself often on sunny mornings when you greet him grinning ear to ear. but parting is only inevitable in the flow of life. it’s hard to believe you’ll stay forever in sumeru, by his side in gandharva ville.

tighnari hates you especially when he’s sick. you don’t leave his side, stare at him longer than he can handle, and archons, you don’t need to touch his skin to map his temperature. he doesn’t need taking care of—and he’s not pretending to be strong, he just knows everything to make himself better. you don’t have to go out of your way; it’s incredibly stupid and time-consuming. even if the rainstorms worsen his sleep, even if the heat of day gets under his skin; why would he ever ask you to do anything for him? it feels strange to be taken care of.

tighnari gets up from his bed, still reeling from the sound of thunder. he clutches his head, a part of his senses dulling and heightening from the ringing. his ears bring certain curses.

“whoa there! who told you to get out of bed?”

ah, yes, of course. another curse for his ears had to materialize in front of him. you sit across from him and cross your arms, glaring at him till he sits back down too. it’s good to know the little quirks of your body language haven’t changed since your akademiya days.

“you... you really don’t have to.” he frowns. “this isn’t your job.”

“i know, i know.” you hum, a smile sneaking onto your face. “but it’s time i repaid you for giving me free medicine and... hm, let’s see. lending me your notes, that one time you cured me after i ate a suspicious mushroom and- and letting me tuck my hands into your tail when it was cold, allowing me to pet your ears-”

he coughs loudly, his discontent clear. “you can stop talking once in a while, (name). it’ll benefit everyone around.”

you roll your eyes. “if i didn’t open my big mouth, you would’ve never realized you’re sick. you can thank me now, pighead.”

tighnari makes a face. “you’re also the reason i ingested a poisonous mushroom.”

“that’s unimportant.”

he shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“here,” you say, shuffling through your backpack. “nilotpala lotuses. i was right about your diagnosis!”

“you don’t know that,” he quips. “these lotuses can be used as medicine against a variety of ailments.”

“but these work, don’t they?” your eyes widen, brimming with genuine concern.

“yes.” he responds far too quickly. he can’t help it. “you have to soak them first and then extract the nectar under a presser- not now, (name).”

you sit back down, pouting. “but you need to get better! as fast as you can, tighnari. i don’t like seeing you like this...”

tighnari sighs, eyes closing. “i will. it’s not like one mushroom will have me coughing up blood... at least not this one.”

you bite down your lip and tighnari can’t help but tilt his head to the side, trying to decipher your whole expression.

“tighnari,” you speak up, not looking at him. “we’re friends, right?”

“yes. obviously. do you need official documents stating our friendship?”

tighnari expects a bit of snark from you right back—instead, he is met with your sudden embrace, your breath warming the spot by his neck.

“why did you have to eat the mushroom on my behalf?” you whisper. “i made that bet with the eremites, you know? it was stupid tavern talk.”

it’s not the worst thing you’ve done drunk. however, tighnari steps in each time with no questions asked. he realizes once again how obvious his feelings are and how restrained he is, unable to tell you just so. you’re too dense to understand the language of flowers, so even a gift of a sumeru rose would pass over your head. you’re quite literally the worst person to fall in love with.

tighnari believes time settles everything. then why does he feel so impatient with your actions?

“why did you make that bet, stupid?” he answers, his arms wrapping around you nonetheless.

“well... you know how i’m saving up?”

there’s a pause. are you hesitating?

“i want to... i want to travel.”

tighnari falls silent. he knows you cannot forever be his partner, journeying through the rainforests and surveying nature’s infinite wonders. you’ve expressed a longing for something else. he cannot deny it.

“do you want to leave?” he asks quietly. “i know being a researcher isn’t rewarding enough and... it’s hard to quantify knowledge. but...”

he trails off. there’s a spark of sorrow in his voice.

“i want to see more of the world,” you answer softly. your smile against his shoulder makes his face warm up. it’s not often the head of the forest rangers gets to feel this way. “but i don’t think i want to do it without you.”

his ears twitch before perking up. if you weren’t as observant as a shroomboar, you might have noticed.

“well then, you need to change your habits. don’t go around making bets, or diving onto a mushroom to jump higher, or touching and eating whatever plant you find,” he scolds. “i can tell you which plants are edible. i can teach you how to set up camp. you must listen to every instruction.”

“tighnari?”

“i’m saying, when the forest is healed, we can set out by ourselves.”

the last drop of rain patters outside his door. who knew the cure to a mildly poisonous mushroom would be the embrace of a loved one? perhaps those foreign fairytales you read to him had some meaning to them after all. perhaps the two of you would get to know soon.

(no, alright. that’s not true. he needs those nilotpala lotuses right now before he faints from overheating.)

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #tighnari x reader #tighnari fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x you #genshin scenarios #tighnari x you #tighnari scenarios #genshin imagines #tighnari imagines #genshin headcanons #tighnari headcanons #yoimix.drabble #lost my 50/50 to tighnari but i got mr kreideprinz in the next 20 pulls so i think it's a win-win #i have not fought the dendro boss except for the achievements so hes stuck at 40 #i have no books either #q

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yoimix · 1 year

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「 without caution. 」

ALHAITHAM is not a man easily swayed. he had to explicitly warn you on the first day of sumeru akademiya that only his goals matter, and you are of no personal gain or consequence to him. not with your wide, naive eyes and softer-than-cotton touch and blooming laughter. you were too bothersome, dismissing every warning of his, even if it landed you in life-threatening situations. you always did laugh at him, even when he was being dead serious. something about your string of actions was so bizarre, so insufferable, he breathed a sigh of relief on graduation day.

how is it now then, that he finds himself sighing in relief once again nestled in your arms? it was unexpected—your actions are usually predictable. his hands shake when he lifts them up to return the embrace. he’s aware of physical touch, aware of the meaning of it, and it’s not the first time he’s been shown affection. however, he’s never felt quite this way holding someone. is this what the florist down the city feels when she kisses her husband with mirth or when the barista at the cafe runs into the arms of his lover, both beaming with joy? are they that way because they’re in love?

“mr. scribe?” you giggle softly. “how come you’re here so late?”

“i don’t know either. it’s strange.”

you hum softly, a jolly tune even in the deepest darkness of night. man always strives for the stars. maybe that’s why he finds himself near you again.

“you know, i always knew i’d be with you someday.”

“that’s silly,” he responds. “and naive. you’re not an astrologer.”

“no, but i felt a tug,” you hum. “towards you.”

alhaitham falls silent. he neither understands nor asks the meaning of what you said. his view of the world, of people, was always that of a man staring at a miniature model of grand buildings. the parts are replaceable and easy to cut off. even if he ends up all alone.

“i’ve always wanted to feel this way,” you mumble, suddenly shy. “to hold someone i love.”

silence follows, only filled in by the ambience of midnight. he sighs again, leaning away from you. his eyes are cold as ever, but there is something new to them.

“i’ve never been in love,” he admits, his whisper cool. “it’s unreasonable.”

however, his breathing gets heavier and deeper as he grits his teeth, a sting of pain shooting through his chest at the softness of your palm against his cheek. he cannot see as you less than you are—he never has—but now he sees you as more, as salvation he neither deserves nor wants. isn’t this what affection does? it clouds his judgment so forcefully that he nearly closes the gap between your lips. after all, it’s all he can think of at this proximity.

“look at me,” he laughs drily. “another victim of irrationality.”

you shake your head, pulling his face closer. It elicits a wave of annoyance spreading over his features. and yet, he cannot meet your eyes. he’s in denial, you realize. for a man so ground in pure logic, it must be groundbreaking to experience love. he never wanted this. he never wanted to let people in. he preferred the monotone.

and despite it all, he hooks a finger under your chin and presses his lips to yours in a satin kiss. no endeavor is riskless. and for just you, he’s willing to do away with caution.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #al haitham x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #alhaitham x you #genshin impact x you #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #alhaitham scenarios #alhaitham imagines #yoimix.drabble #jesus its hard to characterize him #i just want him to suffer idk #anyway alhaitham no1 e2l candidate my next e2l fic will be him

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yoimix · 2 years

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「 inazuma summer session 」

“you should tell him,” yoimiya chirps, her arms snaking around your shoulders to slump over you. “what’s the worst that could happen? he tells the whole country he rejected you?”

your gaze finally turns from AYATO in his pristine blue yukata, enjoying the food at the festival stands and no doubt torturing the poor vendor with his demands and suggestions.

“yoimiya!” you huff. “don’t be so loud.”

“he’s like a billion miles away, you just have tunnel vision.” you can feel her teasing grin.

really, what could go wrong letting the loudest girl in the nation know who holds the key to your heart? you couldn’t last a second against her knowing smile and feline gaze. your dear friend is also a master extortionist.

“at least tell ayaka. i’m sure she’d understand,” yoimiya suggests, calming down. it’s a good thing her emotional intelligence prevents her from blurting it out to everyone.

“no way! what if she hates me?” you turn around worried. “i can’t throw away years of friendship just because i have a stupid crush on her brother!”

yoimiya hums. “to be fair, the crush is also years old.”

you shake your head. “no way.”

she sighs, finally plopping down beside you. “well then, it’s another summer of inaction. i can’t believe you’re leaving me hanging when you could be giving me juicy details about how the commissioner—”

“yo-i-mi-ya!” you cover your ears, heat rushing to your face.

“i didn’t even finish,” she mumbles. “you have a dirty mind, my dear (name).”

the remark cause even more heat to flood your cheeks and before you can respond, you notice yoimiya signalling to someone in the distance.

“who was that?” you try to turn your head but she places her hands around it to keep it in place.

“ah! i have to- uh- i have to go launch the fireworks! wait for me at our spot, alright?”

you furrow your eyebrows but you can barely get a word out before she’s disappeared in a flash.

“my lord?”

you whip your head around to the source of the voice, only to find ayato’s gaze locked straight in your direction. you look behind you in a panic, just to make sure, and turn back to return a shaky wave. the yashiro commissioner really shouldn’t be having this effect on you.

you almost don’t notice thoma and ayaka share a look before she covers her face with her fan, shakes her head and snaps it close. her face is positively beaming and she nearly runs over to you—unusual of a lady, as she says.

“my, you’re quite excited today, ayaka,” ayato remarks, pace slightly increasing to catch up while poor thoma makes a dash behind them with boxes of snacks.

“i had to drag my brother out, (name),” she huffs, a familiar look of determination in her eyes. you’ve only ever seen it when she’s swordfighting. you blink in surprise.

“i’ve always believed in you!” she announces, hands curled up into balls as she holds them up. “all the best!”

thoma looks like he’s in physical pain with how obvious ayaka’s made it. “...my lady?”

“thoma, will you accompany me to the dango store? i’m quite frustrated with brother’s ideas.”

ayato frowns, genuine surprise flashing over his eyes for a fraction of a second. “you never said that, ayaka.”

ayaka takes shallow breaths before walking over to the stores down the path. thoma gives you a slight nod and small grin before trailing behind her.

“well, that was quite... odd.” ayato’s eyes narrow, his face slacking as he goes deep into thought.

you think he looks quite handsome like this.

you clear your throat to rid yourself of the thoughts. you don’t want some sort of awkward air settling between the two of you.

“oh!” he exclaims. “i didn’t mean to lose myself there. though i suppose i have an answer.”

you tilt your head, and the faintest shimmer passes over ayato’s eyes at your soft movement.

“shall we head to the fireworks viewing spot, dear?”

there he goes again. you’re sure he calls you dear just to tease your poor heart out of your ribcage. and you’re sure your soul will fly straight to your grave if this continues—for his hand brushes ever so lightly against yours on the short journey up.

no, it really will because the brush turns into a firm grip over your hand.

“ayato, you’re surely—“ he’s teasing you, isn’t he? you can see him laugh despite himself.

you furrow your brows, a pout following.

“a festival is the best place for this, isn’t it? i’ve always wanted to visit on a night like this.”

you drop your pout when you see him take in his surroundings. there’s so much he’s missed. and you’ve foolishly waited for all these years. you’ve seen him grow up from a boy just trying to protect his sister into the capable yashiro commissioner he is now. this is his first time enjoying a festival too, and not just organizing it. surely, you can be a little less selfish on his account.

the moon is full and bright tonight. if only you’d get to tell him, if only there weren’t years of wasted chances between the two of you.

though you’ve noticed, the distance between the two of you now isn’t much.

you tug at his sleeve, making him turn around. his eyes linger over you for longer than they should, pools of whispered confessions, and you can’t wait anymore.

“i love you!” you blurt, your eyes closing in panic. “and i want to spend so much more time with you, it’s killing me. ayato, i...”

you stop yourself and open your eyes to see the wonder on ayato’s face. the sound of your voice rings terribly loud in your ears, and you almost fail to notice the bright fireworks behind you were it not for ayato’s eyes traveling towards them. you turn around, a smile adorning your lips immediately. nothing ever makes you quite so speechless, quite so content as fireworks. this time, they’re blue like the kamisato crest with a baby pink center like yumemiru leaves. you’ve adored these trees for the longest time—and each summer memory associated with this place. yoimiya surely didn’t have that in mind, did she?

ayato takes a step forward to stand beside you, and when you look at him, his gaze is already on you. the eye contact makes you shy away.

“they’re beautiful,” he whispers. “as ever.”

“did- did you hear what i said?” you ask nervously, your outburst flooding into your memory as you try to keep the embarrassment at bay.

“i’m sorry.” ayato gazes at you with a placid expression. “i didn’t quite catch that.”

your heart drops. you don’t think you can quite build up enough tension to say that again.

“it’s nothing, ayato,” you whisper meekly.

“oh? i would’ve loved to chat over some tea.” a small smile has come to bloom on his face. “a little... date, is it?”

you breathe in sharply, and the discomposure from that noise causes you to go silent for a few seconds.

“i cleared my schedule for you tonight—if you’re willing to accompany me, that is.”

“of course!” you respond far too quick, the blood in your veins racing at an impossible speed.

what curbs the embarrassment of nearly choking over your own words is the gentle grip over your hand leading you down the yumemiru-lined path. surely, and you say this with confidence, there will be no more summers of inaction.

#ayato x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #ayato fluff #genshin impact fluff #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato fluff #genshin impact x you #ayato x you #genshin impact scenarios #ayato scenarios #ayato imagines #genshin imagines #yoimix.drabble #he was talking about your EYES ok #honeyworks has me in a chokehold #im sorry this is so long i know i called it a drabble

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yoimix · 1 year

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「 cardigan 」

[ note: follows the the 3.3 interlude archon quest plotline ]

when you met him, he already bore too many sins. SCARAMOUCHE, sixth of the fatui harbingers, the balladeer, kunikuzushi. to mend a broken heart, you must break as many as you can.

tough luck for him, yours is as hard as diamond. and sometimes, a glimmer of it ripples across his skin too. you know things he cannot fathom, he knows things he cannot reveal to you. even so, he’d set half the world on fire if it meant you’d keep looking at him. after all, his eyes only ever reflect your joys and sorrows.

“happy from just the sunlight?” he scoffs. “that’s so childish.”

you chuckle. “what’s something that makes you childishly happy then?”

he purses his lips. there is no answer to that he could come up with. only you’re there to witness those moments.

ii.

“you know i don’t get along with anyone else,” he mutters.

“hm? you get along with me.”

his eyes soften. “right. what do i care?”

denial coats his skin like a blush. he’s already yours.

iii.

“hey, what if... what if i had a heart?” he whispers, a forlorn gaze lingering over your figure. “how would i fill that hole?”

despite being battered and bruised, despite his voice barely still there, his bloodstained lips call your name over and over. you hold him closer, arms around his neck. his fingers hover over his chest as though he could will a heart into being.

your lips stretch into a small, tired smile. “haven’t you filled it already?”

“the only thing i could possibly think of filling it with,” he refuses to meet your gaze. “is you.”

he breathes in a steady rhythm till he can no longer tolerate it.

“will you take me as i am? so full of sin?”

“over anyone and anything else.”

his lips press against yours anyway, a feeling he can come by only once in twenty lifetimes.

iv.

“do you... do you know me?”

like clockwork, you take steps towards him. reaching out, you place a hand against his heart and his breath hitches in his throat.

“of course.” you smile, eyes brimming with tears. you’re not sure why. but you’re certain you know him.

“how ridiculous.” he reaches out involuntarily, his thumb wiping away your tears. how ridiculous, indeed. you don’t usually make a fool of yourself in front of strangers.

“can we be friends again?” you ask, a small smile on your lips. his heart stops the way it used to. “if friends is what we were.”

“yes.” there you go again, putting him in a trance.

one day, he’ll learn to fall asleep without you around. until that day, he will keep reaching for your hand.

#when you are young they assume you know nothing~#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #scaramouche imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin spoilers #genshin impact imagines #scaramouche scenarios #genshin fluff #scaramouche fluff #yoimix.drabble #sorry for the long post :(#i was in my feels bc miss taylor struck once again

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yoimix · 1 year

Text

「 from eden 」

if the rtawahist theory of parallel universes is true, you are certain that you would hate ALHAITHAM in every single one of them.

it is an ambitious theory, however. alhaitham calls it fiction.

“that’s not what the algorithm does,” he grumbles, lowering his head to rest his forehead against his palm. he looks nearly as distressed as a pyro fungus on water.

“i did not draw the wrong chart.”

“you filled in incorrect values.”

“no way.”

“i can’t believe i’m here with you at 3am.” he heaves his deepest sigh yet, mingling into the cold air outside puspa cafe. you prefer the warm, coffee-scented interior, but to get your words across, you need them to ring inside his thick skull.

“well, what else were you gonna do? sleep?” you roll your eyes.

“yes.”

you pull a face at his expressionless response.

“now, let’s go over the algorithm again,” he presses, eyes piercing enough to draw you closer, and bowlike lips sporting his regular frown. there is no need for him to be here. he just happened upon you at the cafe five hours ago, just to point out the mistake in your assignment. of course, that didn’t end well. you’d rather deep fry and eat a consecrated shell than let a man tell you how to solve your problems. so, he didn’t need to be here. he just never left.

the answer to that is simple: in every single universe, he will choose you over anyone else.

not that you’re aware. alhaitham makes sure you never will be. he’s unfamiliar with languages of the heart; and no amount of your biting remarks and teasing voice, your pensive smile and zaytun perfume, will get him to pronounce the syllables right.

he looks over at you, your full lips moving at rapid speed as you reiterate the contents of your lecture. the side of your neck is exposed, and the distance isn’t so wide that he can lean in comfortably. no, if he did, his shoulder would touch yours, and his hot breath would be against your skin. then maybe he’d get to hear your words die in your throat. these few inches are haphazard, bordering the lines between friends and a face you cannot stand.

what a wonderful caricature of intimacy, he thinks.

“even if this language has the structure you claim, it’s nearly impossible to know. this poem could be dating to thousands of years ago!” you exclaim, growing frustrated, “are you sure about this? i’m starting to think it can’t be deciphered.”

you’re done with translating the first part. it is as abstruse as can be, and you’ve been scratching your head over it for the past three days. you’re not sure if you’re supposed to solve it like a riddle, or agonize through the steps of the translation algorithm to complete. though, the embodiment of agony is already seated beside you.

what is the difference between me and the sky?

hell, if you know. you’re not even sure what’s happening anymore. the letters float across your vision, little taunts in their movement. teetering on the edge of dropping out, you groan again.

“i think you should get some rest,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

your shoulders sag, and alhaitham wonders if he said something wrong.

“don’t patronize me.”

“i am not.”

“i never know what you mean, and what you don’t,” you mutter, picking up your pen again to scribble notes on the corners of the paper. it contains alhaitham’s neat explanations, arrows indicating grammar and some numbers signifying the presumed utilization years of this lost language. yours looks like a little kid’s next to his.

but i say what i mean, he thinks. is there a point to saying it out loud? his chest constricts at the idea of you curling your lips, dismissing his chest laid bare for your predefined ideas. he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him. but something in your voice betrays this thought of his.

his aventurine eyes settle over you. but you bear no distaste, only mild annoyance from this wall you’ve hit. he must say, you’re a commendable scholar. the relentless pursuit of knowledge has far more meaning than simply possessing it, and he’s seen your weary form in the house of daena at too many midnights. you are self-sufficient and he’s certain you’ll arrive at the answer anyway.

“i’ll be leaving then,” he says, standing up. “i hope your darshan doesn’t find you groveling by a stack of papers in the morning. it’s rather unbecoming of their paragon.”

a shout of exasperation leaves you, your shoulders tense.

“it’s because of you the haravatat are known as snobs!” you shoot, crossing your arms.

“it is your choice to believe in rumors,” he responds, idly gazing at your form. “it reflects you more than me.”

“do you always have to be so robotic?”

“i’m more well off than most, so i doubt changing my mannerisms will be of benefit to me.”

you exhale, on the verge of exasperation. “do you ever hear yourself? i can’t imagine the agony your poor roommate goes through.”

“kaveh has nothing to do with this.” he grits his teeth.

“no one has anything to do with you, alhaitham.” you stand up, glaring at him. “to you, people are no different from cats, or dogs, or- or flies—you don’t seem to understand that our languages were made to bring us closer.”

“they were invented for communication. a group that understands each other survives longer.”

that is true. but you’re not wrong either, even if you’ve chosen more romantic phrasing.

“i think—”

“archons,” you fume. “what about poetry? and literature, and dedication pages at the start of novels? we do it for each other.”

“your own perception adds substance to sentimental texts. i cannot agree with the poets. they led far different lives than i do.”

you scoff. “your little bubble of comfort is all you care about, don’t you? pray tell why you bothered with this anyway. was it to stroke your own ego? i... i genuinely believed you wanted to help.”

that one stung a little.

“you seem to have an entire image of me already. do i have to be present here?”

you heat up in the face, nearing a boiling point. you’ll have to apologize to enteka for causing a commotion; but your mind is heavy and you cannot quite think clearly.

“i understand that you don’t bother with what people think of you. but you could at least be honest with me- without- without your damn glaring, or sarcasm or—”

“i don’t look at you with the intention to glare.” he raises his voice for once. “i cannot let you see what i’m experiencing because i don’t know what it is yet—and it is imperative you don’t poke your nose into this.”

his chest heaves as he steadies his breathing. there is nothing you can say, not when you’re taken aback by his quiet outburst.

“and i’m not frowning like you think i am. i am simply not wearing an expression at all. my collection is unordered but i mark my books alphabetically when i lend them to you. i say i bring an extra cup of coffee to have a second fill even though i know you will ask to have it. i despise the conditioning in people that they must pair up in meaningful ways for a good life. and despite that...”

he catches his breath, not realizing he was holding it in.

your eyes have softened by now, waiting patiently for him to continue.

“...if i were to end my speculations and call this love, i would be satisfied.”

you part your lips and close them again. to expect an answer, perhaps, is a grave overestimation on his part. some things are better left unsaid. it’s how languages die.

alhaitham sighs. “right. it’s too strong a word. i mean to say i feel comfortable around you. and content. though i never thought there was anything amiss in my life. as for affection, i am not familiar with this kind. and—”

you cup his face, still at a loss for words. “you talk so much. i never realized.”

“last time, you said i don’t talk enough.”

“i just like the sound of your voice.”

he purses his lips, and swallows his words. once more, you have decided to speak in a language he has no expertise in. the drumming in his heart says he cannot wait to read poetry in it.

“no more sighing, haitham. and no more glaring. no sarcasm. and no irony.”

he furrows his brows, but he makes no attempt to release himself from your touch.

“say it again. your conclusion.”

his lips part, a sharp breath running through his lungs.

“i believe this is the notion of love. every gesture points to it.”

“is your head clouded?”

“no. it’s never been clearer.”

and he lets you lean in closer, closer till your lips are brushing against his.

“so?” you whisper.

it takes him a moment. he closes the distance, and though he has rarely felt devotion, he moves his mouth against yours in a fervent prayer. carefully, he rests his hand against the small of your back, more to steady himself than you.

this makes sense to him. you’re so familiar. like dragging his fingers on his mirror from ages ago, he finds you a perfect image of what could’ve been. you and him are pages of the same incoherent book, dancing between the same two sentences.

“for clarity’s sake,” he whispers, pulling away. “i say what i mean. i’ve lived long enough to know misunderstandings are beyond my control, and truth is something to be actively pursued to gain. but i cannot stand the screen between my words and your ears.”

his gaze is focused, unwavering. it’s the way he’s always looked at you.

“i know,” you respond, after a moment. “i know what you mean. and if it is your words that you want me to actively pursue—”

he clears his throat. “that- that is not what i said.”

“—then i will do so.”

you smile, and he can feel his lips twitch.

“well, i’m no genius...”

“neither am i,” he interjects softly. “but i’m persistent. i will keep trying, over and over. and if i’m not wrong, you’re the same.”

“you’re not wrong.”

have you always looked at him this way? he thought he’s seen all of your faces before. a new language blossoms in his mind. for once, literary devices are more than just devices.

“the poets are wrong,” you state, laughing bashfully, “it’s not so earth-shattering as i thought. maybe... maybe you were right on that part.”

a small smile forms on his face, and your breath hitches in your throat. “that’s ironic. i thought i finally understood them.”

“really? then do you know the answer to this ancient poem from the sands of hadravameth?” your eyes are curious as ever. “what is the difference between me and the sky?”

he recalls the lines from a long-buried poem, and they click in his head. the sands cannot swallow words as well as it swallows life.

“the difference, my love, is that when you laugh, i forget about the sky.”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fluff #alhaitham fluff #genshin x you #alhaitham x you #alhaitham scenarios #yoimix.drabble #the switch in pov jesus christ lord knows i can never commit #anyway i want to treat his character with dignity and compassion despite me clowning him every day #i feel like i am contradicting myself haha #kaveh passing them by: BARF #also last part is from the the poem my love asks me by nizar qabbani

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yoimix · 1 year

Text

「いかないで」

[ note: takes place before inazuma archon quest finale and contains spoilers for scaramouche backstory! ]

SCARAMOUCHE has thought of many ways to say it.

he parts his lips, forming the words soundlessly, and repeats. over and over again, till he memorizes the shape of the words. however, he does not understand his compulsion to say them to you—you, who makes his blood boil in the same sentence you make it rise to his cheeks. even now, he swallows his anger to talk to you. the scowl on his face is only quelled by the thought of your soft gaze. he never anticipated this feeling.

will his voice crack? he wonders as he searches for your figure near the abandoned shrine. that would be embarrassing. you’d dismiss it airily but as much as he denies his affection for it, he’d get to hear you laugh. it’s surprising. his temper and unpleasantries barely ever get you down. it’s not like he deserves your patience but it would be dishonest to hide the light in his eyes you bring.

despite what the world says, scaramouche can feel gratitude.

adrift for hundreds of years without guidance, without a sleeve to hold onto, it’s only fair for him to be this unruly, this tempestuous. it’s a miracle you make him smile the way he does.

“ah, there you are!”

oh, how his heart blooms at the sound of your voice. is that right? perhaps it’s another malfunction.

“..llo? hello? why do you look so lost, wanderer?” you giggle, your face unbearably close to his. your examining eyes make a flush of heat flood his face.

“wanderer? that’s a new name,” he comments.

you hum. “but you’ve been wandering for so long. it makes sense, doesn’t it?”

he swallows. you call him a variety of names. it’s a strange contrast with his past. kabukimono, he was called. and he was taught there is no place for nameless eccentrics in this world.

“besides,” you continue, despite his lack of response, “scaramouche is a little... well, the fatui have interesting names. they don’t feel personal.”

“i’m not anything personal,” he snaps. “what does that mean?”

“but our friendship is personal to us, isn’t it?” you grin, eyes closing in mirth.

really, what’s there to smile so hard about? you look so much more alluring than usual, and he can only watch.

“well, it might get harder now,” you ramble on, scratching the back of your head. “i’ll write you letters though!”

scaramouche furrows his brows. it’s nothing to me, he thought to himself several times. but he’s driven his nails into his palm, knuckles sheet-white. you’ve been by his side for so many moons. how could you go your own way now?

“why?” he asks, louder than he intended. there it is again. rage and resentment rise like bile in his throat till he’s scowling again.

“what do you mean why? for business, of course! i’m a merchant, after all,” you laugh. “i mean, fontaine isn’t that far.”

“you’re unsafe on your own,” he cuts, glaring. “do you know what the fatui do to traitors?”

you shrug. “i was never fatui to begin with. and it was a deal they broke.”

“you don’t understand.” his impatience shows in his voice. he should say it now, but the words don’t come out. he’s too pissed to ask you that. after all, you’ll never know what he feels, what he’s ever felt.

you are happy with all things as they come and go. he cannot agree with the natural order of the world.

“are you leaving?” he asks sharply, choking over his words. before he knew it, his voice was raised.

what he really wants to ask is “are you leaving me?”

it would be so much easier if you treated him with contempt too. if you glared at him instead of smiling softly, if you were at his throat instead of greeting him with your warm smile. he wishes you would tear him apart instead of trying to piece him together. why do you have to be so difficult?

“whatever.” he grits his teeth. his heart beats rapidly despite himself. “go get eaten by the riftwolves for all i care. it’s not like we’re friends.”

“please don’t sa—”

he growls, irritated. “shut up. you won’t ever understand anyway. at least, when i take her gnosis, i can finally—”

why are you looking at him like that? is it so obvious how he feels? he’s hooked onto you, with your liberating smile and loving gaze. no matter how lonely, how unwanted he may have been in life—you open your mouth, and every syllable soothes the burden of his past. to him, you are not a place of betrayal. then why are you looking at him like that?

“say, does it snow in inazuma?” you ask in a gentle voice.

“yes,” he answers, furrowing his brows. you are so strange, with your meandering words and phrases.

as if on cue, you reach out and smooth your fingertips over his eyebrows, effectively relaxing his face. he absentmindedly reaches out to grab your hand, placing it against his cheek. with this gesture itself, he feels defeated. he will never be able to separate his emotions from his body. the defect is permanent.

“even on the beaches?” you continue asking.

“yes,” he says quietly. “it’s not as cold as snezhnaya though.”

all of a sudden, he realizes why you’re so strange. you call him with love. not the code name from a foreign land, not the name he chose for himself out of resentment.

“i hate you.” his voice cracks. he’s certain he looks miserable. it’s not even what he wanted to say. “i hate you so much.”

you purse your lips. “really? but you’re still holding my hand.”

his grip tightens. the truth is, he wants to say it out loud.

“don’t go.” his voice is a hoarse whisper. yes, those are the words he practiced. so simple and yet, they wouldn’t come out. does he truly deserve to say it? he, who was discarded with one look from his creator?

a wretched little makeshift heart is all he has. did his mother design him to be a failure? the words are still caught in his throat. isn’t it funny how with each passing night, he tries harder to become more and more of what she wanted him to be? he wishes to rid himself of all emotions so bad and you won’t let him.

“please,” he adds, unable to hear himself over the ringing in his ears. he’s allowed to do this right? it’s natural he wants to protect the one who’s been by his side, who’s listened to his story by shakkei pavilion.

with much difficulty, you slip your hand from his grip and look at him with sorrow. it seems fate is fond of hitting him where it hurts.

“come with me,” you whisper, before clasping your hands over his stone-cold ones. you can’t possibly look at him like that and expect a response. “you’re not one of them.”

“i have no place to belong,” he responds, feeling a deep tiredness course through him. he leans forward into your touch.

“you’ll always have a place to belong with me.”

you brush the pad of your thumb over his cheek. his skin is always so cold, yet sculpted slender and beautiful. the red of his lips is only surpassed in hue by his cheeks. does he bleed? where does he get such pretty colors? it’s your turn to feel drawn, as you lean in to press a kiss to his forehead. even if he refuses, you have a feeling he’ll find you again for better or for worse.

but for the first time in his life, the two of you can enjoy an inazuman winter in shared warmth. he can have this at the very least.

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yoimix · 1 year

Text

「 fireball whiskey 」

DILUC has made it very clear he has no interest in bar talk. he cares for it as much as a cryo slime would care for water; which is nothing at all, they just make for a very troublesome mix.

however, it’s not one of kaeya’s detestable jokes anymore how his ears perk up at the mention of your name. even in a tavern inhabited by noisy idiots, his entire focus is occupied by your presence. could those drunkards not surround you? diluc clenches the glass he was polishing tighter, nearly enough to break it. they are your teammates, though a pestilent crowd, and you show no signs of discomfort. in fact, diluc seems to be the only one feeling discomfort.

“..luc! diluc!”

he snaps himself out of his thoughts.

“good heavens, you’re enchanted. even my lyre has not had this effect on you,” the bard comments, face flushed from alcohol.

“and that poor glass is suffering the worst of it,” kaeya teases, a smile smug enough to drive diluc up a wall.

“(name) is art of a different kind, eh?” venti giggles, lazily strumming the strings of the lyre harp now resting on the counter.

diluc feels flames lick at his cheeks, before clearing his throat.

“your tab, bard, is now at a total of four hundred and fifty thousand mora. i do hope you’ll pay up.”

“u-uh.. oh boy, is that a man trying to make his move on (name)? better play the knight in shining armor now!”

“don’t try to—”

“he’s not wrong,” kaeya interrupts, gaze trained on you shaking your head at a man who’s grasping your hand far too tight for diluc’s liking. “now’s your chance to finally stop staring longingly at miss (name) and—”

“don’t... say a word, kaeya.”

diluc sighs. it’s time to go home.

before he knows it, his legs have carried him over to where you are, hoisting you up with ease while you babble on and on about something he can’t quite hear. this is precisely why he dislikes crowds. he can’t even hear the sound of your sweet voice over the buffoons that inhabit this tavern.

the chill of mondstadt air hits him in full blast, and he holds you closer as your voice finally reaches his ears.

“...and he was like, whoa! i’m not the dandelion knight, i’m the windwheel bard! hahaha, get it? wait, no. i think i said it wrong...”

“(name)? are you alright?”

you blink, staggering to stand straight up.

“of course, my dear. why wouldn’t you think i am?”

diluc tries to ignore the term of endearment you just threw at him and expected him to catch. you’re friends, for heaven’s sake. friends don’t talk to each other like this, do they?

“you chugged down four shots of fireball whiskey and a sunsettia tequila mix.”

“i did not.”

“i literally saw you do it.”

“ah, busted.”

diluc shakes his head. “do you have to do this? that thing’s terrible for your body.”

“i’ll stop when you promise me one thing right now! no questions, just promise me first.”

“...and what is it that i have to promise?”

you press a finger to your soft lips, a sheepish smile causing boundless flutters in his stomach. “now, i told you. that’s a secret, mr diluc.”

archons, you’re just so unfair. diluc can’t help the flow of fire to his cheeks, like he’s suddenly a teenager discovering puppy love, and he covers the lower half of his face with his palm. you’re bound to notice, right? when he’s putting on an entire fireworks show whether he likes it or not. the little sparks jump from finger to finger, and flames licking at his ears. it’s such an unfamiliar feeling. he usually has his vision under control.

the fire makes you jump, but thankfully not too far from him where can’t feel the calming warmth of your presence.

...thankfully? what has gotten into him?

“oh dear, diluc, are you okay?” you look at him with concerned eyes. once again, diluc has to struggle to keep his flames from going haywire. you stagger towards him, your hands finding his face with much ease as they cup his cheeks.

you giggle. “gosh, you’re so warm. i wish i could spend every winter night with you.”

“i’m... sorry?”

you step even closer, a guttural sound of surprise leaving his throat when you wrap your arms around his waist. he can smell your strawberry lip balm at this proximity.

“promise?”

“...i promise.” diluc barely has any willpower left in him. “now, may i know what it is?”

“kiss me!”

diluc nearly starts coughing, right on your face. barbatos help him because the wind has entirely left his lungs.

“ex-excuse me?” he must have heard you wrong.

“kiss. me.” you pout, looking up at him. “right now!”

“you’re quite demanding.” he clears his throat. “and drunk. i can’t possibly—”

diluc fears fire may stream from his ears the moment you grab his collar and press your lips to his in a chaste kiss. it’s far more than he can take and he pushes you away by the shoulder, an erratic gasp leaving his lips.

“i know you like me!” you huff, “and I’ve been trying so hard to tell you but archons, you’re dense.”

diluc opens and closes his mouth. “but i- mm- i- uh... oh.”

he wants to kiss you so terribly, his hands tremble in fear of what other strange desires you may unleash. this can’t be right. everything feels foreign, his senses gone awry and his mind the last defender of his heart.

“so...” you quieten. “did i perhaps get it wrong? i- i’m so sor—“

diluc cups your face gently but the force with which he connects your lips to his is anything but gentle. he does ease into his actions a millisecond after and the two of you grow closer to each other till the heat latches onto you too.

you pull away with a smile as soft as the moon above, your thumb idly brushing over his cheekbone. diluc nearly leans into your lips again but whatever self control he has left keeps him in line.

“...hush! they’re gonna hear us!”

diluc’s attention snaps to bushes near the door of angel’s share, a harsh glare soon following. a certain bard, cavalry captain and... is that klee and amber? diluc does not like crowds.

but with you, and all that you bring, resting so peacefully against his chest, who is he to take notice?

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yoimix · 2 years

Text

「 inazuma winter session 」

[ tw: alcohol mention ]

snow falls with quiet anticipation on inazuman winters, as excited as a lover’s lips.

there are lights up to celebrate, and to ward off the darkness that looms end of the year, and there are people breathing in the cold with smiles and loved ones huddled by their side. you’ll admit that it’s quite infuriating to see couples on nights like these. jealous? that’s hardly the bottom of it. no, you’re so resentful of your unrequited love that you’d rather ruin other people’s dates than ask your friend out on one. petty? of course.

your friends rub salt on the wound, saying it’s such a shame that THOMA is only your best friend, just a confession short of being your lover. funny enough, you get tongue-tied every single time you’re about to spill—that smile of his is not to be trifled with.

“—but it’s not mondstadt winters, you know? i- (name)? are you listening?”

“hm? y-yeah, of course. mondstadt. should we get some dandelion wine?” you quickly save. truth is, his face is of the sun and you’re basking in the glow.

“not after last time,” he reprimands, furrowing his eyebrows. “i’m sure i have imprints of your arms around my waist from how long you held me.”

your cheeks flare up with heat unprecedented in winters, causing you to take a sharp intake of breath.

“did you dislike it?” you huff, trying to steady your beating. yes, some light teasing might help you get back on your feet.

thoma breaks into a sheepish smile. “not really. not when it was you.”

oh, it seems your plan backfired. does he not care at all for your poor heart?

“(name)? are you alright?” he leans his face towards you. thoma’s not as nice as everyone regards and you have proof. look at how he’s holding your heart hostage. “you’re not catching a fever again, are you?”

“n-no...”

“you’re shivering,” he continues, pressing his lips into a thin line. my, don’t they look soft?

you look away by reflex, focusing on the mochi and dango stalls a few feet away. they have incredibly pretty lights, red and orange adorned with cherry blossom petals, and you’re noticing for the first time. you’ve been a bit too occupied with the light in thoma’s eyes instead, like some sort of lovesick fool. then again, it’s hard to not stare at honeydew eyes so sweet, so loving.

“i’m i- i’m fine,” you manage to stutter.

“your skin is freezing!” he exclaims, arms wrapping around you before a response can leave your lips. you’re glad he’s hugging you from behind because you sure as hell can’t face him anymore.

o electro archon, please strike me down this instance.

“well, not anymore,” you laugh, an overflow of heat warming up your face too. that one isn’t from thoma though. “it must be nice to have a pyro vision.”

“it gets the job done.” he grins into your hair.

it’s so easy for him to touch you, and for you to cave, that you forget that this is what lovers do on winter evenings. not friends. how you wish you could rid of that fine line, tug at that thread till the tapestry of your heart is undone and thoma can stitch it back together. surely, there are better ways to go about it? thoma brings out the teenager in you, immature and exploding with emotions.

he sighs, shifting his head to rest his chin on your shoulder. no, this is certainly not what just a friend should make you feel.

you can’t let things end like this.

“thoma?”

you hesitate. he’s far too close for you to think straight, yet he’s still too far to hear your feelings. you can’t even turn around to face him.

“what do you think of me?” you ask quietly. the winter wind picks up and you find yourself engulfed further into thoma’s warm chest.

“think of you?” he repeats, sounding somewhat surprised. “gosh, there’s so much i think about when it comes to you.”

“don’t mess around like that,” you chide, getting impatient. “it almost sounds like you’re flirting with me.”

“well. i have been for the past two years but thanks for noticing.”

“...what?”

“what, you think i go around holding everyone in my arms like this? did you ever even read the notes i write in your bento boxes?! or- or did you really think i’m an easy sort of man? that i melt into everyone i meet?”

you turn around abruptly. “but- but you make bento boxes for everyone! and the notes- oh.”

they were far more charming and affectionate than, say, ordinary friends would write each other. and he cooks for the kamisato clan because it’s in his job description. thoma gives you a deadpan look.

“you- you like hugs too! how was i supposed to know from this?” you gesture to his arms around your waist. gosh, you’re awfully close. the realization sends yet another jolt of fire to the pit of your stomach.

“would you be absolutely certain if i do this?”

thoma’s lips hover right above yours, a moment of pause in his movement to make sure you’re alright with it. you, on the other hand, might just faint. despite that, you gather enough of yourself to close the distance, shutting your eyes close like it’s a schoolgirl kiss and hear a chuckle against your mouth. no way he just laughed at you.

“hey-”

unbelievably soft lips press back onto yours, shutting off the flow of thoughts in your head. god, this better than anything you could dream of. could you be dreaming perhaps? thoma’s hands move to cradle your face, a touch so tender it could rival the petals of liyue harbor’s silk flowers. his hands may be calloused from day to day activities, but you feel no discomfort. it’s thoma, after all. your best friend, your pillar of support.

“so?” he says, pulling away and short of breath.

“so?” you repeat, confused.

“can i tell you i love you yet? you know, i have waited two years.”

you bury your face against his body, unable to bear the emotions this man just flooded into you. do pyro visions make people unstable? archons, he’s perfect but your heart might need a little getting used to the flames.

“not if i blurt it first.”

“i love you.”

“ah, i wanted to- whatever. i love you too.”

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yoimix · 2 years

Text

「言って」

[note: fem!reader]

ITTO's words might not always make sense. scratch that, his words might as well be up for interpretation by sumeru scholars specializing in human psychology. but he desperately needs to tell you that he is so, so in love with you.

when it comes to him, he’s always gone all out for everything, especially if they’re fun. the problem lies with you. you are fun, but you are also more than that. you’re pretty and you’re soft, you’re kind and you’ve got the nicest smile. itto’s confused beyond himself as to why he can’t just smash through with his words as usual. his gang gets what he’s saying, right? so why can’t you?

it’s probably because he can’t say a single word when you’re in front of him. the conversation goes haywire and itto forgets all about the date he was supposed to ask you on. besides, he can’t decide on where he’ll take you. but also, you have to agree on that date first. all of these thoughts are spinning around in his head, making a very bad bean soup. that’s how itto feels anyway.

“shinobu! this is not going to work,” itto whines, slumping forward on his desk. “we’ve already tried out all your plans a-z.”

shinobu sighs, her mask airing up. “it’s true that y/n-san can be a bit dense but this is all your fault. you start talking about something else altogether. did you really have to bring up your onikabuto matches last time? we were stuck collecting them for three hours.”

“but she fell asleep on my shoulder! and i got to carry her home.” itto brightens up at the memory.

“do you want to ask her on a date or stay in the... the friend zone forever?”

itto grumbles, slumping further. he’s not going to get his way like this. his thoughts are turning into a haze of dark clouds now.

“but,” shinobu interjects. “you can ask y/n-san for the summer festival. it’s indirect, it’s fun and you’ll get to see her in a pretty kimono. i bet you can win her stuff too! just- just don’t eat the snacks yourself.”

“of course not, shinobu! i know how dates work. besides, y/n eats everything before i’ve even seen what she’s holding. she’ll hit me if i take her stuff.”

shinobu shakes her head and itto’s about to point it out when she grabs his shoulders. “leader. i believe in you. you can ask y/n-san on a date without messing up this time.”

itto feels a bit of his confidence return to him. shinobu’s right. what’s the worst that could happen? he’s only failed twenty-six times. unlike the alphabet, there’s infinite possible numbers and that means plan one is now in motion.

“leader.”

kuki’s voice interrupts the plumage of numbers fluttering around in itto’s head as he tries to mark how many attempts it should take to ask a question.

“if i may ask, what makes you so interested in y/n-san?”

“oh. that’s easy. she jumped into the puddle with me.”

“huh?”

itto can’t explain it well enough. after all, it’s been years since then and his memory’s getting hazy. but the feeling of warmth when he saw you, in your hand-sewn yellow kimono, take a small step forward and a big splash into the puddle with the big and scary oni terrorizing the village; he knew he wanted you to be by his side forever. you were only eight, and he, a mere little demon of ten years old. he admits he was a bit of a menace, but he never meant harm. the village folk couldn’t understand.

but you did.

shinobu takes a sharp breath, snapping itto out of his reminiscence.

“there she is! go!” shinobu gives him a hard shove, making him almost trip into the mud. “just say: let’s go on a date. four words! i know you can do this, boss.”

and just like that, he’s left alone with you, who’s noticed him by now and is grinning ear to ear as you make your way to him. oh no. itto’s feeling it again. like his heart’s about to sneeze but he just can’t get it out. is that a new hairpin on you? gosh, it’s cute.

itto loudly clears his throat, putting on a strange suave manner of speaking. he learned it from the blue fellow that comes to beetle fight with him. “hello there, (name).”

“why do you sound so strange?” you tilt your head.

caught in just three words?! how is supposed to make it through to asking you out?

“say, itto. i’ve been looking for you-”

“you have?” he didn’t mean to interrupt and he has to hold in a groan.

“y-yes.” you pause, a small smile adorning your pretty face as you look down. “yoimiya-san was saying...”

oh no, not that girl. itto can’t have her stealing you too now that she’s stolen the kids’ attentions.

“you don’t have to hang out with her when i’m here!” he points at himself, an expression so serious you can’t help your burst of laughter.

“itto, of course i’ll hang out with you! but you’ve been acting strange these past few days... did i do something wrong?”

you hold in a sigh. you won’t say it out loud but you hate that he’s not talking to you like he used to anymore. you miss holding hands like when you were children too but that’s probably taking it too far. sweet, innocent itto could never know how you feel.

“fireworks,” he blurts.

you raise an eyebrow.

“you’re like fireworks- no my chest is like fireworks when you’re around!” itto’s shoulders tense up, trying his best to convey his feelings to you.

he clears his throat. this is no way for a man to act, and he’s better than all of them!

“wait, that’s not what i meant to say! i meant... fireworks... flowers... uh...”

“you wanna go to the summer festival together?” you ask, your face breaking into a wide smile. your eyes are sparkling. god, you’re so cute itto’s heart might just leap out of his chest with a wedding ring ready. “i heard yoimiya-san is working on her biggest project yet. isn’t that exciting? i wanna watch those fireworks with you...”

you cover your mouth, like you didn’t mean to blurt that out. maybe he’s rubbing off on you. itto tries not to feel that weird sense of pride.

“yes!” he straightens. “exactly! you get me. maybe we’re soulmates...”

he did not mean to say that out loud but the sound of your giggles is worth the slip of tongue.

“you’re so funny, itto. i’ve always known we are.”

#genshin fluff #genshin x reader #itto x reader #arataki itto x reader #itto fluff #arataki itto fluff #genshin drabble #genshin one shot #genshin scenario #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x you #genshin impact scenarios #arataki itto x you #yoimix.drabble

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yoimix · 2 years

Text

「 sweet nothing 」

time is the first and foremost adversary to lovers.

despite that, you took DAINSLEIF’s hand beside the fountain in the heart of khaenri’ah. it was fitting to him then, that a kingdom was built around this when you looked at him with all that is good in humanity. khaenri’ah may have been a nation without a god, but in you, there was a religion he was willing to put his faith in. it began all too suddenly—and it ended all too suddenly.

at first, the very name of yours filled him with fire that would put the pyro archon to shame. a slip of it from his subordinates in the royal guard would earn the harshest glare. as captain, he ought to keep his men in check. but you, oh, he hadn’t accounted for a royal advisor’s heir, and all the distractions you brought with you. it’s unfitting of a knight to feel as he did for you. but he admitted it to you, blurted it out almost, the moment you took his hand.

“captain?” your eyes never stopped glimmering. even in the darkest hours of night, you’d be shining as bright as stars. they were almost like guiding lights to him, the way he would find himself in your embrace every break he got.

he could never get tired of counting the constellations in your eyes. they charted his whole sky.

“hello, (name),” he spoke far too quickly. the captain of the khaenri’ahn royal guard does not get nervous. but your hands were so warm, he wanted to cave into you right then.

“oh, don’t be so formal, dain,” you giggled. “i was only teasing.”

“oh? i... i don’t understand, i’m afraid.”

it made you break further into laughter, clutching your stomach as he looked at you perplexed. he missed your warmth the moment your hands left his.

“you’re so stiff! aren’t we close friends already?” you placed your hands on your hips. “i mean it’s cute in a way, but i don’t want to fluster you into a statue.”

oh, so you were aware of the effect you had?

you huffed. “you act like such an enigma, but you’re just like me, aren’t you?”

dainsleif was nothing like you. you were the ever lively wind to his unyielding stone, blooming life to his strict stillness. there couldn’t possibly be a thread of connection between the two of you, apart from the silent adoration he held for you and your way of doing things.

“you love like i do.”

dainsleif could never tell what drew you to that conclusion. but you were right. he did love like you did. and he lost like you did.

but he admitted it you—the only one he could say overflowing words to till the end of time, even if they were sweet nothings. a look of worry had flashed across your face at your confession and he wasted no moment to take your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to it. the action finally made you seal your lips, and dainsleif’s quaint smile followed not long after. would that mean you were courting?

nothing brought him more joy than you did, your touches and kisses, your demands to hear his voice before drifting off to sleep. eventually, though, work took over and you were left with inteyvat flowers to keep time and lull you to sleep. and oh, how you still adored them because he picked them for you.

when they said the end was coming, dainsleif never realized how soon it would be. he’d taken lives before, but it took a cataclysm for him to understand what it takes to protect one. he didn’t get to say goodbye—and now he whispers it to the sky each night.

dynasties hardly ever end with warnings. ashes and dust cloud his memories of the aftermath. he’s grateful in a way. it would pain him to remember the exact moment.

if only his faith were stronger, could he have, at the very least, perished together with you? the sickness at his fingertips grows. he can’t touch anything alive anymore. it hurts to feel the memories of warmth.

dainsleif is the bough keeper, and he is not meant to be more than this role assigned to him.

he runs his finger over the inteyvat petals, the wear of time adorning its surface. does it ever miss the khaenri’ahn lands? does it miss the rich soil and the crystal water like he misses your gentle touch and spirited laugh? all you ever wanted from him was nothing but his presence, his words—and he was as cruel as he could be. he would give anything to go home to you now, to hold your smiling face, to kiss you till you laugh. oh, but time, time is unforgiving. he has no home. his wandering is eternal and fruitless.

and when he remembers your face on the last day, it makes sense to him, why they punished him so gravely.

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