Heyy 💖🥺 I Love Ur Work And I Would Cry If You Did This: Karusuno Boys Reacting To Their S/O Coming

date night

pairing: atsumu x f!reader

summary: atsumu forgets about date night :/

warnings: a lil sad but not too bad

word count 1.1k

notes: this was inspired by this audio lol

at first you thought that he was just running late––it happened sometimes, that's just how he was. but as you watched the time pass by ––ten minutes, then twenty... by the hour mark, you'd given up.

he forgot. he forgot about the date night that you both planned in advance, weeks ago. atsumu had been so busy for the past few months, you were so excited to just have one night to each other, one night to have him all to yourself.

you dressed up nice, putting on your fanciest, sexiest dress and heels, you took your time to get ready, knowing this was a special night, the first night you'd go out with your boyfriend in a while. and it didn't happen.

the reservation was an hour ago, and atsumu was two hours late. you were contemplating going to bed when the door burst open to reveal atsumu, panting, eyes frantic and apologetic. "baby fuck, i'm so sorry––" he practically ran towards you, throwing off his jacket and kicking off his shoes haphazardly.

he ran his hands through his hair, trying to give you a small smile but you wouldn't look at him, choosing to focus, or rather pretend to focus on the tv. "it completely slipped my mind honey, i promise i didn't mean to blow you off––not that that makes it better..."

he was met with silence and his shoulders sunk as he stepped towards you hesitantly, his feet dragging like a small child. "c'mon baby i would never do that to you on purpose, i mean...look at you, i––god i'm a fucking idiot."

you nodded subtly but he didn't comment on it, his eyes still trailing along your body. your dress fit you perfectly, it accentuated all your best features and your shoes––you rarely wore shoes like that, though they were sexy, he knew they also hurt like a bitch, so the fact that you wore those for him and he didn't even show up? he had a lot of making up to do.

"baby doll please look at me, let me see those gorgeous eyes so you can see how sorry i am." he cursed quietly to himself, looking around for some sort of answer. "please don't ignore me princess."

you kept your eyes trained forward, your tongue in your cheek as you tried to calm yourself down, the frustration and disappointment still lingering in your mind, making your body buzz. you sighed, "i don't know what you want from me, atsumu."

you could see from the corner of your eye that he was pouting dramatically, eyes wide. "wh––atsumu? what happened to baby? or bub?" he got on his knees in front of you and placed his hands on your thighs but you looked to the side, not wanting to give in.

you crossed your arms, your voice quiet when you spoke up again. "where were you?"

you noticed him hesitate and scratch the back of his head nervously. "i––well i was with the boys baby and––"

you nodded your head and he paused, scared that he'd said the wrong thing, he didn't want to mess up even more tonight. "but as soon as i remembered i came running home." you got up, and walked past him but he was quick to stand up and follow you. "but you love the boys don't you?" he was trying to make the situation better any way he could, thinking that maybe if he reminded you that you liked them, and even considered them your own friends, you wouldn't be as upset––shit logic, he knows.

you kept walking until you made it to your bedroom, "yeah i do, but they're always with you, tsumu." tsumu, that was better than his full name. you glanced over your shoulder briefly, the hurt look in your eyes stopping him in his tracks for a brief moment. "i just wanted to be with you, for once. i just––can't remember the last time we had a night to ourselves. i missed you." fuck.

you made your way in front of your vanity, looking in the mirror as you reached up to take out your earrings when atsumu's hand gently wrapped around your wrist in mid-air. "wait wait," he brought your hand up to his face and kissed your wrist, pressing his cheek into your palm. "i'm so sorry babygirl, please don't get undressed, you look too good to let all this go to waste. let me take you out, show you off–"

you shook your head, "it's late."

he felt like crying, "but––"

you shook your head again, letting your hand drop to your side. "i'm tired, babe." you reached for your earrings again and this time he didn't stop you, watching you put them away in your jewelry box.

you walked over to your side of the bed and sat down and atsumu dropped back down on his knees, reaching to take your heels off for you. "i'll make it up to you tomorrow––i'll blow off practice and you'll have me all to yourself all twenty-four hours, promise."

you appreciated the effort but sighed, both from his words and the feeling of his hands gently massaging their way from the heel to the ball of your foot. you hadn't actually walked with them so your feet weren't hurting, but you weren't going to reject the massage. "you can't just skip, you're on a professional team."

he moved onto the other foot, bringing it up to kiss your ankle. "sure i can, i just won't go." he was serious as ever, yet you couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

you ran a hand through his hair and he smiled, content with the affection you were showing him. "you're really not gonna let this go, huh?"

he shook his head and kissed up one of your calves, his hand caressing the other. "of course not." he looked at you earnestly and you could tell he wasn't joking around. "i hurt my girl and i've gotta make it up to her." he leaned up on his knees between your legs and tilted his head up towards you, a hopeful look in his eyes. "kiss?"

you bit your lip and nodded, placing your hand on his cheeks to pull him in for a sweet kiss and he sighed, hands resting on your thighs. it wasn't like your usual passionate ones, it wasn't intense, it was short but meaningful, a reassurance. when you both pulled away, he looked at you, a warm gaze in his eyes. "i love you pretty girl, i will make this right, i swear."

prohero!bakugo but you, his wife, were kidnapped.

you sat in a dark room, the dripping of water the only sound you heard. your eyes were blindfolded, your hands restrained behind your back as you were bound to a pipe on the floor. the smell of blood filled your nostrils and you resisted the urge to gag.

"she's awake." a strange, gnarly voice you never heard before said, before ripping the blindfold of your eyes, a different man beside him shining a flashlight directly into your face.

you didn't wanna know what you saw in the corner of your eye, unmoving and surrounded by a puddle. but you were broken out of your thoughts by a voice:

"so, girlie, wanna tell us what your husbands weakness is? he put a bunch of our gang in prison some while ago, so we want him dead." a guy with a scar across his face questioned.

as you stayed silent, he pulled your hair, yanking your head forwards to look at him. "answer me, and we won't have to get ugly."

you glared at him, your eyebrows scrunching in annoyance, "no way, eat shit and die." at your words, the man slammed your head against the wall brutally, leaving a dent in the wall, and your head bloodied.

"looks like you'll be trouble huh? i'll ask you again, what's your husbands weakness?"

as you again refused to answer, the other man slapped you across the face. "maybe his next wife will learn to listen. but we'll keep you alive for a bit longer, maybe you'll have a change of heart."

they stood back, admiring their work on you. your nose was broken now, the smell of your own blood apparent to you now as it dripped over your face. your head was pounding as you struggled to stay awake.

"katsuki.." you muttered wearily under your breath, making the two men laugh at you. as you fought off tears off pain.. or was it embarrassment? you didn't know as the two feelings started to blur together.

you knew you just had to hold on. just for a second longer, he'd come for you. the tears dried up but her will didn't, even as the hours passed with no sign of katsuki.

"did your little husband forget you girl? guess you weren't as precious as we thought." the men laughed.

"y-you're wrong. he's coming, and you'll regret this." you mustered, making the men smirk. "oh yeah?"

"fuck yeah." a voice echoed through the compound, accompanied by the sound of a concentrated explosion blasting through the walls.

one of the men, shook up by his sudden appearance, and look of pure unadulterated anger, tried to run off. the other grabbed you, trying to use you as a shield for his next explosion, but katsuki just used it as an opening for a direct hit, sending him flying into the other man, rendering them both useless.

katsuki then ran over to you, untying you from your confines, and looked over you, gently grabbing your face in his hands. "shit, babe.. 'm sorry."

"you came.. i knew you would."

he took you into his arms, getting you back to safety. after this, he'd never want to let you out of his sights again, he just felt so worried, so anxious for what could happen.

but as you two held eachother, the thoughts and fears were all calmed by the feeling of your bodies in tandem.

Bakugou never understood the concept of cute aggression. He’d seen the tiktoks, seen people describe puppies or kittens as so cute they wish they could pop their heads off or squish them to death, but it seemed over the top, even for him. They were just cute; nothing more, nothing less. No squishing or obliterating required. Some people could be so damn dramatic, he thought.

That is, until he started dating you.

It happened one morning after you’d spent the night. He got up early, just as he always did, to go for a run and make breakfast for the two of you. After deciding on what to wear, he turned away from his closet, and his eyes landed on you. You were still sleeping peacefully, your body curled up under his sheets, and face smushed into his pillow. It was then that Bakugou realized what cute aggression really meant.

As he watched you nuzzle even further into his pillow, your lips pulling down in a slight pout as you slept, Bakugou wanted to squeeze you with all his might. You looked so cute that he desired nothing more than to kill you with his bare hands. He wanted to destroy you. It was an irrational, overwhelming feeling with no genuine malice or action behind it. He would never actually do anything to hurt you, of course not, but something in the way you looked so at home in his bed made cute aggression bubble to the surface.

Quelling the urge by clenching and unclenching his fist, Bakugou instead chose the much kinder, more rational course of action: kissing your cheek and letting you sleep. He could always save squeezing the life out of you in a hug for later when he wouldn’t disturb your rest.

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eternity in a moment

Pairing: Xiao x GN! Reader Warnings: none, just enjoy the fluff A/N: heard eternity in a moment and knew i needed to write something short and sweet for the lantern rite, so enjoy!

xiao goes by many names. alatus, the conqueror of demons, the guardian yaksha. he's so used to being a feared and revered figure in liyue. he knows that humans are wary of him, knows that his fellow adepti regard him with looks of sympathy when they see him standing alone atop wangshu inn.

there's always something troublesome that's going on around liyue. whether it's a new hilichurl camp, or treasure hoarders trying to sneak towards qingce village, xiao is there in an instant, mask donned over his features as he brandishes his weapon. he's made it clear, countless times to those who have sought him, that he should be seen as a weapon, and nothing more. it's dehumanizing, cruel, heartless, but xiao's lack of regard for himself has plagued him for so many years, his karmic debt slowly building.

but when he's with you, he's just xiao. he's the one who loves neatly decorated almond tofu and the crystalflies that flutter around the caves of guyun stone forest. when he's with you, the only titles around his name are the little petnames that you've tagged on when you call for him. when he's with you, the whispers in his head are cast away and he's unafraid to take a step back and indulge in a sweet moment with you.

because when he's with you, xiao feels at peace.

and the sight of you, smiling at him with two lanterns in your hand, one offered towards him with a blank thin strip of paper waiting for him to write something, is enough for him to melt. his fingers brush against yours, gentle and hesitant, but accepting nonetheless as he turns away from you to scribble something short onto that paper. you don't peek over at his wish, and he follows suit. and when you lift the lanterns to the sky, one of his arms wrapped around your waist to steady you from your spot on the branches that reach over the inn, the other pushing up the lantern, he can't help but glance over. the gentle glow of the lantern illuminates your features and he can't help but stare at the look of awe that paints your features.

he could spend all of eternity in this moment.

"happy lantern rite, i love you."

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3

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domestic things the haikyuu boys do to show that they care

 ↳ it all seems too good to be true. that’s because they’re not real :’ 

━ sakusa kiyoomi 

- always let you shower first so you can get all the warm water. (but don’t too long, don’t leave him without any hot water at all :’) (or i guess u guys can shower together … ) 

- puts your towel in the dryer before your shower. he has many, many reasons for this: 

your towel will be nice and cozy when you walk out the shower 🥺 

he’ll have to hand the towel to you, meaning he’ll have a reason to go inside the warm, steamy bathroom 

he’ll be able to wrap you tightly with the towel the moment you step out. sakusa can’t leave you abandoned with just a towel, so naturally, he’ll sit you on the bathroom counter (even with you sitting on the counter, he’s still taller <3) and dry your hair, comb your hair, pat your body dry, lotion your body, blow-dry your hair, and all the other steps of your skin-care routine 

imagine standing next to each other, staring into the mirror as you both brush your teeth, him softly side-butting you, you side-butting him back (except he moved to the side and now you just awkwardly side-butted the air … there goes his satisfactory smirk 🙄<3) 

(just before drying your hair, he’ll rub strands of your hair between his palms to make it stick up, and stand back to admire the view. you’re adorable) 

(oh to be pampered by sakusa :’)) how does it feel to have won life?) 

(it hurts knowing we’ve never seen animated sakusa smile) 

━ kita shinsuke 

- he always walks on the outer side of the sidewalk when the two of you are walking side by side to keep you safe from the road. it’s a small, subtle gesture, but a gesture that doesn’t go overseen. this also means his left hand will always be holding your right hand 

- picks things up for you. on his way home, he’ll always call and ask if you want anything. if you have a delivery package you need to pick up, he’ll do it for you. if you want a cup of coffee from your favorite cafe, he’ll buy one for you :)

- he loves and cares for your family like his own. this goes a long way. it truly shows how important you are to him

(to those who doesn’t have a very … good family or a family that wouldn’t be interested in caring for your partner, i’m sorry to hear about that babes :’( i can relate, we’re in this together!)

━ oikawa tōru 

- always talks in terms of “we” instead of “i”, “me”, and “you”. he always includes you in conversations so you never feel left out! whenever you are, he wants you to feel acknowledged and included. 

- defends you in every conversation. if someone were to talk badly or make unwanted remarks about you, oikawa will be right there to drag them down.  oikawa may talk a lot but it’s gotten him the advantage to be really good with his words. try winning an argument with him, you can’t (unless ur iwaizumi lol)   

- anyone that stares at you for too long, he’ll give his harshest glare. oikawa’s one of those people who can just sense bad vibes from people. he tells you all about his instincts so no “bad guys” can get to you

- relationship with oikawa = lots of pillowtalk 

━ miya atsumu 

- if you carry purses/bags around, he always offers to hold onto your purse/bag when you go to the bathroom. he’ll casually sling it over his shoulder like it’s his own, no awkwardness here! he’s proud to be your boyfriend and it shows. 

(guys who carries purses for their partners with confidence > other guys)

- if the two of you walk out of a store into pouring rain without an umbrella, atsumu will tell you to wait inside the store while he goes to start the car. he’ll drive to the front of the store so you won’t have to get wet from the rain 

(i just know atsumu’s one of those guys who looks so hot while driving without even trying- darn him <3) 

━ akaashi keiji 

- beings extra everything around for you. band-aids, hair-ties, gum, cash, an extra jacket in his trunk, a cup in case of stomach-emergencies, and even a pair of socks in case the rain seeps through your shoes. he has it all. feeling safe is one of the many good feelings you feel around akaashi 

- when you share a small umbrella, akaashi always makes sure it completely covers you, even if it means water is dripping down his shoulder. 

- when he comes across a good book, a good movie, good song, he’ll have that spark in his beautiful eyes when he tells you all about them. he wants you to also enjoy the good in his life :) (he also tells you about his past mistakes/incidents to warn you about the bad) 

━ bokuto kōtarō

- goes to bed before you, lying on your spot of the bed to warm it up. when you walk into the bedroom, you’ll see bo’s head sticking out of the covers with a huge grin. he’s so cute without even trying djkfldj 

- adores massaging you. he’ll regularly massage you, run his hand across your tummy, sit you in his lap, squeeze you with his biceps, play with your thighs, yeah it’s quite obvious how much he loves you. 

rough day? regular day? be prepared to lay on your tummy so bokuto can give you a massage :) don’t be too surprised when he attempts new massage moves that “our professional massager did on us! (msby)” 

you know what else he loves? when you massage him! he loves coming home with sore muscles to a home-made massage by the person who never fails to make him smile. not the best massage in the world, but you’re trying and he loves it more than explainable. 

- brings you the remote without complaint. puts your plate back to the kitchen without complaint. puts your clothes in the laundry basket without complaint. 

━ miya osamu 

- always offers to carry the grocery bags. even if he can barely see past the pile of bags in his arms, he’ll insist on carrying them. his competitive side comes out during times like these; he’ll try to impress you by carrying more and more each time. even with how heavy the groceries may be, he hasn’t dropped/broken anything …yet! 

- leaves the last bit of food for you. last slice of pizza? yours. last bit of milk left? for your cereal. last piece of cake? yours. he never eats the last piece without checking with you first, no matter how hungry he is. eating food without leaving you any is like betrayal. 

- blocks the sunlight out of your eyes with his arm/hand. especially in the morning when the sunlight glares through the window. 

━ suna rintarō 

- charges your phone for you. sometimes, he’ll tap on your lockscreen to check your battery percentage when you go to sleep and charge it when the battery bar is low. you don’t have to worry about forgetting to charge your phone with suna around. 

- turns off his phone when you talk to him so you can have his full attention

- untangles your mess of cords. he always glares and heavily sighs whenever he sees tangled cords. no one knows how, but suna’s exceptionally good with untangling stuff 

━ kuroo tetsurō

- cleans the hair from your shower for you. he really doesn’t like it, but he knows you hate it more, which is why he does it for you. even though it’s not a favorite activity of his, he doesn’t really mind, it’s natural. 

- he’ll talk to the people/call the people you don’t want to. if you don’t want to say your drive-thru order, he’ll do it for you. if you want to know the price of a shirt but there isn’t a tag, he’ll talk to a store-worker for you. instead of being annoyed at you for “not being to do simple things”, he’ll help you out without a single word of complaint. there’ll be some teasing, but no harm done. he’s very understanding and patient

(my bias is showing. he’s my comfort person, what can i do :’) 

- he made up a code with you. four tugs on the hem of his shirt means you’re not feeling well/uncomfortable. (there are also many other signals and code words)

this is especially helpful when you’re out at parties, big events, malls, etc etc. as soon as he feels your tugs, he’ll whip around and study your face, leading you to a quieter place to ask how you’re feeling. if you want to go home, then home it is. 

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𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨!

-> characters: bokuto kotarou, akaashi keiji, kita shinsuke, miya atsumu, miya osamu, suna rintarou, kageyama tobio, sawamura daichi, asahi azumane

-> a/n: HA i told you i’d write something! it’s not long but it’s something >:))

— BOKUTO KOTAROU looks at you whenever he scores a point!

his eyes drift up to meet yours as a wide smile shows itself on his lips. the sheer excited, pride he feels at that given moment makes all the hard work of practicing so, so worth it. to see you standing and clapping at his small little victory made everything worth it.

— AKAASHI KEIJI’s face will scrunch up when you boop his nose!

there will be times where you’ll randomly tap a finger on his nose out of nowhere. it’ll make his face scrunch up, a small confused look on his face as a small pout forms on his lips. though this pout will always be followed by a small smile as he gives you a kiss on your nose. the small things like these moments we what made your relationship all the more better.

Keep reading

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do you ever sabotage your own free time? like wtf is that about? i want to play this game or read or do something specific but instead i will just stare out the window or scroll mindlessly???

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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 (𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔)

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 3.4k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers (yes kinich literally invented this trope okay. sue me), mini-drabbles, childhood to university, modern!au, fluff and slight angst, lots of bantering but it's light-hearted i promise

summary.

you've always been a sore loser—kinich is just the only one brave enough to say it. or, you and kinich fall in love over the course of your lives, and one thing never changes—you're both idiots

author's note. credit to @/scythidol for the header images! a bit of a different fic format this time (who is she....). i'm sick over kinich, i have nothing clever to say or excuses to make. that's all, thank you for reading! i'm finishing this at 5am so i'll fix any errors later lol. reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

I.

“You’re annoying.”

The old TV in your backyard treehouse buzzes with static and the constant thumps of Kinich’s fingers against the controller buttons.

It’s a summer evening—crickets chirp merrily in the grass and lightning bugs float lazily through the air, glowing among the stars. You’re sitting next to him, knees pulled to your chest and the straw of a Capri-Sun settled between your lips.

His reaction (or lack thereof) to your words leaves you less than entertained, a sour pout fixed on your lips as he sighs.

“You’re a sore loser. We said whoever got up here first got to play first.” Despite the intense game occurring on the screen in front of him, he diverts about half his attention to watching you out of the corner of his eye. “And I got up here first.”

“But you always win,” you whine. Kinich nudges at his own juice box with his knee, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and holding it to his lips—he drinks gratefully, still focused on his game. You’re not sure why you keep agreeing to this bet; you don’t think you’ve ever won.

“Then you need to get faster.”

Both of you know that such a feat would be impossible—Kinich has been the fastest kid in your grade since you started school. His athleticism affords him a bit of popularity, still at the age where winning a playground race is essentially the deciding factor between the cool kids and the lame ones. But he’s not interested in any of that, and he makes that quite clear in his actions.

After all, all the popular kids avoid him since he started a fight with them last year. 

“They were saying things about you,” he’d shrugged, like it was no big deal. The school seemed to think a bit differently, and his suspension felt like the longest week of your life.

The screen flashes then, a loud and colorful display that shows the words “you win”. Kinich leans back in his seat, a pleased half-smile spreading across his face. 

“Okay, now you can play.”

He tries to hand you the controller, but you huff, crossing your arms and turning away.

“I don’t even wanna play anymore.”

Kinich is far more mature than you at this age—even your own mother tells you as much—so he merely sighs, accepting of your tantrum.

“Okay, what do you wanna do then?”

You ponder that for a moment. There’s a lot of things you do often, but many of them are things that Kinich is much better at than you. Playing video games, climbing trees, riding bikes—he’s far more talented at them all. It’s one of the reasons you even became friends in the first place—you’d practically begged him to teach you to beat the final boss of Super Mario Galaxy, and the rest was history.

“I don’t know,” you mumble noncommittally, blowing your straw wrapper at him. It lands right on target, bouncing lightly off his forehead as he rolls his eyes.

“Come on, whatever you wanna do, we’ll do it,” he says, poking at your cheek. “I’ll even play house.”

And you know Kinich hates playing house—he has boundless amounts of energy most days, and house isn’t “challenging” enough of a game for him to expend it. But he does it occasionally, just for you.

You brighten at the prospect. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, already descending the treehouse ladder, waving you along. “Let’s go inside first, though. I’m hungry.”

Scrambling to your feet, you jump down to meet Kinich, already standing in the grass.

“Last one inside is a rotten egg!”

II.

The rainstorm ends just as classes dismiss—when you walk out the school entrance, a slight drizzle is still letting up, fresh puddles lapping at your toes. Kinich’s gaze finds you instantly as he slinks out of the school gates, bag tossed loosely over his shoulder.

“My socks are wet now,” you whine, patting down the edges of your skirt to look down at your shoes. You’d only just bought them recently, and your mom likely wouldn’t be pleased with the prospect of you ruining them so soon.

Kinich chuckles at first, a snarky sound as thick as the gathering clouds, only to sigh when your pout persists.

“Alright, alright,” he relents, squatting to the ground and gesturing for you to get on his back. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

He’s a bit frail, still in his growing phase—his bones and muscles shift rhythmically under his skin as he walks—but he’s so distinctly warm. The heat makes you curl closer, nose brushing against his neck.

He walks you home most days like this, spending the day at your house until the sky grows dark with dusk. His home life is something he rarely discusses, but you know enough, and you’re happy to welcome him to yours.

“You’re slow,” you mumble into his shoulder. The steady thump of his steps is comforting, nearly putting you to sleep.

“You’re heavy,” Kinich replies teasingly, adjusting your weight atop his back. His words are biting, but he’s being careful with his steps nonetheless, taking each one lightly so as not to jostle you.

“You’re rude,” you scoff back. His nose scrunches in annoyance when you loop your arms tighter around his neck, pretending to choke him as punishment. “You’re not supposed to say that to a girl.”

He blows his bangs out of his eyes, peering up at the newly visible sun that starts to dip low in the sky. You watch a cat scurry through the bushes to your right, golden eyes peering through the foliage before disappearing into the darkness. 

“Yeah, that’s why I’m saying it to you.”

Kinich is always a bit wittier than you, a bit quicker to the punch, but you like that about him. You like a lot of things about him, and you’re sure he knows it, too. A weighty silence settles between the two of you, unnatural—it’s usually you who fills the silence, and Kinich who patiently listens.

But something bigger sits at the back of your mind, and the words are having trouble surmounting the obstacle of your tongue. 

You’re still floundering for something to say by the time your house appears in the distance. The sight lights a fire under you—you don’t want to discuss something like this with your mother in earshot. You force the words out, voice weak and small.

“I heard Mualani confessed to you yesterday.”

The rumor had flown through the school like wildfire. Mualani is popular with the boys after all, so there’s bound to be quite a bit of heartbreak if she ends up in a relationship. Someone had seen them together at that sakura tree behind the school, and it instantly became a hot topic—it’s all you’ve heard about all day.

And though you know it’s not really any of your business, you can’t help but be curious, and the thought fills you with dread.

You manage a glance at his expression, searching for any sort of unrest, but he doesn’t show any at all. In fact, he seems wholly uninterested in the topic.

He shrugs. “Yeah, so?”

You take a deep breath for courage—you’re not sure you want to hear his answer. 

“So? What did you tell her?”

And it’s nothing against Mualani, really—she’s kind and beautiful, and you wouldn’t blame Kinich for falling for her. She’s never done anything wrong to you at all. But a beat passes, and you’re already halfway through mourning the end of your long-time crush when he replies.

“I told her I was flattered, but I wasn’t interested.”

A sigh of relief escapes you then, but you reel it in quickly—he can probably feel you relax against his back at his response.

“Oh,” is all you say, as aloof as you can manage. Kinich latches onto your hesitation instantly.

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” comes your hasty reply. “...Is there any reason you said no, though?”

He frowns. “I don’t know. She just isn’t my type.”

“...Then what is your type?”

You’re going too far, you know—even just speaking the words has your chest twisting painfully, and you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. If Kinich isn’t an idiot, he can surely tell why you’re practically breathing down his neck over the whole thing.

But maybe Kinich is a little bit of an idiot, at least about these things, because he merely shrugs.

“Not sure. Never really thought about it.”

A frost unfurls in your chest, bitter—of course Kinich wouldn’t know, he’s never thought about anyone that way. Including you.

“Right.” You attempt a laugh, teeth gritting. “It’s all stupid anyway.”

You drop your head into his shoulder, trying to hide the pained expression on your face, and only then does Kinich’s stare flicker to you, soft.

“Right,” he says, a quiet rumble from his chest. “It’s really, really stupid.”

III.

Walks turn to drives when Kinich turns sixteen and buys his own car.

He’d saved up for months, working part-time jobs on weekends and after school, until the day finally came when he pulled up into your driveway, keys in hand. Your mom had been overwhelmingly proud—bought a cake and everything—and you’d merely been grateful that you no longer had to beg her to drive you places. 

It’s nothing crazy, just a simple sedan, but it represents a freedom that the two of you have never experienced together before.

That’s how you end up parked underneath the flickering streetlight just outside your house, excitedly recounting a story to your best friend. He’d driven you home from your club after school, an errand that always ended in several other stops—today, it had been fast food and boba.

His eyes seem to glow in the fading daylight, a pretty jade and amber that you’ve always thought was beautiful. It feels a bit more intense with his stare trained on you—Kinich isn’t the talkative type, sure, but he always ensures that you know he’s listening.

“So then she was asking me about you.”

“Mhm.”

“And get this,” a nervous chuckle escapes you then, “she thought we were dating.”

Everything falls still.

It’s times like this that you really start to hate just how unreadable your best friend can be. Despite how much you tease him for it, you actually enjoy how difficult it can be to force an expression out of him—it’s a little challenge every day. But now, when you’re on the precipice of pouring your heart out, his impassive expression stings.

Nothing on his face changes, save for a slight tilt of his head—he’s considering your words. The silence feels endless; a lump starts to form in your throat, humiliation burning at your cheeks. 

“I know, it’s so ridiculous,” you assert hurriedly, trying to avoid the rush of shame. “I mean, we would never—”

“Tell her we are, then.”

You’re sure that in that moment, your heart stops. 

Truthfully, you hadn’t planned to get this far—you were planning on brushing over that part of the story and moving on, but something deep in your heart had forced it out of you. Now, you aren’t sure what you really want to happen.

It’s always been your underlying fear, that once Kinich finds out, everything will change. Or even if he does return your feelings, it’ll all go up in flames eventually and you’ll never be the same. It’s terrifying enough to have kept your mouth shut all these years.

A tense laugh erupts from your throat, cutting through the silence. “I—I mean, it’s not that simple—”

He arches a brow. “Do you not want to?”

That’s another difference between you and Kinich—he’s far more straightforward about getting things that he wants. It’s one of the reasons that people misinterpret him as cold, but he sees it as being logical.

You gnaw at your lip, fingers tracing over the car door. Do you?

If the countless daydreams and romantic notebook doodles are anything to go by, you do. You really do. You’re just not sure if you’re brave enough to take that step.

When you look at him again, he’s observing you carefully, a delicate fondness lying in his stare. You shrink under the weight of it.

“No, I do,” you admit quietly. 

The moment falls still, and your eyes are drawn to the only movement within your line of vision—the quick bob of Kinich’s throat. Then, his hand advances toward your face at a measured pace, giving you endless opportunities to retreat.

Of course, you don’t.

“Can I…?” he asks, barely a brush of a whisper. The tension runs thick in the air as his tongue peeks out, swiping over his bottom lip at a tantalizing pace. It’s nearly enough to drive you crazy, but you know he’s just as anxious.

“Yes,” you breathe, wincing at the sound of your own voice—it sounds almost too eager.

But Kinich presses his lips to yours all the same, soft and wanting, and your heart flutters in your chest. It’s a chaste kiss, nothing like the fireworks-exploding-making-out-with-tongue types you’ve seen on TV, but it’s just right—it feels like him, and that’s all that matters. He pulls away slightly, lips still millimeters away from yours.

“I like you. If I’m not wrong, you like me too. I think it’s that simple.”

You almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Though you’d never admit it, you’ve practiced this scenario thousands of times in front of your bedroom mirror—what you would say to him, what he might say to you. Leave it to Kinich to not follow the script.

But he’s always done things his own way, so really, you should’ve expected this.

Gently, he reaches for your hand, fingers slotting through yours with ease. You sigh.

“I guess it is.”

IV.

“...that far, huh?”

Kinich stares at you upside down, head dangling off the edge of your bed as you sit at your desk, laptop keys clicking rapidly. He knows you’re serious about your future goals; you both are. He just never imagined it would bring the two of you so far apart.

You pause with one hand resting on the mouse, still staring at the screen. The map looks so daunting, too daunting, and you can’t imagine being that far away from him. 

An awkward, weighted silence hangs in the air, and by the time a few seconds pass, you’ve already foreseen eighty different bad endings for this situation. Clearing your throat once, you force yourself to speak.

“Kinich, I—”

“I get it.”

He doesn’t mean to interrupt you so suddenly, but he does. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried. Because while he does understand—he really does—he also can’t help the stinging sensation of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. It feels pathetic. It feels selfish. Here you are, chasing your dreams and supporting his, and he’s caught on the fact that there will be a little space between the two of you. And it’s not like it’s anyone’s fault, but maybe you’ll get tired of waiting and—

“You’ll come back to me, right?”

There’s an unmistakable thickness to your voice, evidence of the steadily growing lump in your weary throat. It grows larger with every passing second, an insurmountable mass dwarfed only by the impending distance between you and him.

That question catches Kinich off-guard, and he nearly wants to laugh then; not because he doubts you at all, but because he doesn’t, and he finds it ridiculous that you would ever think otherwise. Here you are, worrying about him.

Kinich doesn’t have any doubts or fears. He never does when he’s with you.

Maybe that’s why.

With a light laugh, he lets his eyes flutter closed, finally allowing an uneven breath to fill his lungs. The natural light outside is slowly dimming, the fluorescent lamps dotting your street flicking on one by one. He knows he should go home soon. His car is sitting outside, the same one the two of you have had endless adventures, fights, and make-ups in. It’s the same one he will use when he moves an unfathomable distance away from you. The same one he will use on the day you will cry, clinging to him like your life depends on it, before watching him disappear into nothing but a mere dot in the distance.

His fist clenches at his side. 

But you’re still here, the closest feeling he has to home, and you’re still in love with him, and he is still in love with you.

Maybe that’s why this is enough, for now. 

Turning onto his stomach, Kinich sees you right-side up this time, and it’s like nothing has changed.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” 

V.

A knock echoes on your apartment door in the middle of the night.

You raise a brow at the sound, a bit unnerved—a lone college girl answering the door in the dark isn’t the safest thing, you think as you peek one eye through the peephole. But there’s a familiar figure standing outside, and it has your hand turning the knob immediately and flinging the door open.

He’s here.

“Kinich,” you breathe, in disbelief. Last you’d heard, he was somewhere halfway across the country, and certainly nowhere near your front door. But he’s here, in a black hoodie and grey sweatpants, looking like he’s just walked out of your dreams.

“Hey,” he says simply, as if his appearance hadn’t been totally shocking. He takes advantage of your shell-shocked state to invite himself inside, curiously looking through your apartment. “Nice place.”

You step aside in a daze. “Kinich—you—what are you doing here?”

He’s holding three flimsy bags in his fist, grocery store logos and restaurant labels stamped over the plastic, keys hanging off his pinky finger. He’d come prepared, clearly, but for what you’re not sure. 

He towers over you a bit more than he used to, hair a bit longer, and everything about him feels so grown up. It reminds you of all the moments the two of you have missed over the years, how much change has occurred beneath your nose, maybe without you realizing. 

He spreads the bags over your kitchen table—the mouth-watering smell of Chinese takeout filters through the air, and your stomach grumbles in reply. But it’s your tear ducts that react initially, a sting at the corners of your eyes as you squeeze them shut.

Kinich doesn’t notice at first, absorbed in inspecting the photos displayed on your wall—photos of you, photos of him, photos of the two of you together. It makes his chest warm that you still think about those times. He does too—after all, it’s rare that you leave his mind.

But he turns back to you, tears running rivers down your cheeks, and his breath hitches.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, carefully cupping your face. A lilt of panic laces his voice. “Does something hurt? Are you sick?”

“You’re here,” you sob, curling into his shoulder. None of it feels real. He’s warm and firm beneath your fingers, and you clutch at him tighter, half-expecting everything to disappear. It’s so much different than FaceTime or calling or anything else you do when he’s away. Because right now, he’s completely within your reach, and everything falls into place.

“Of course I am,” he murmurs. You cry into his hoodie, soaking the fabric with your tears, but he holds you close all the same. “Because you’re here.”

You spend a few minutes that way—you crying until your tears dry over your skin, and him comfortingly rubbing at your back. Air slowly returns to your lungs, and you sniffle, glassy eyes meeting his. 

“But why? I mean, it’s the middle of the semester, isn’t it?”

A rare half-smirk graces his lips.

“We made a promise. I came back to you first. So I do believe that means that I win,” he says. If you weren’t so emotional, you might have rolled your eyes—of course, all he ever focuses on is winning.

He drags you over to the couch, laying down and pulling you on top of him, safe. You draw closer to him, tangling your limbs together until you’re not sure where he ends and you begin.

“You’re annoying,” you whisper, muffled into his chest.

Kinich shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“You’re still a sore loser. Thought you’d grow out of that by now.”

You grumble a few choice words at him, and he smiles—a sight that only you and the stars can claim to have ever seen.

And he’s right; you are a sore loser, and he’s been right just about every time he told you so. But you find it doesn’t matter, not really.

You could never win against Kinich anyway.

(Maybe you never wanted to.)

back from the dead!

note from kin: the gif for this one’s probably my favourite one so far, but i just know that the quality is going to get nerfed because everyone’s so small

also, just in case it wasn’t obvious, the prompt here is that that you ‘died’ one way or another but then you come back because (plot twist) you didn’t actually die - though it’s a bit different in albedo’s case

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn! reader, diluc, kaeya, childe, zhongli, xiao, venti, albedo, a couple of other mentioned characters

pairing(s): diluc/reader, kaeya/reader, childe/reader, zhongli/reader, xiao/reader, venti/reader, albedo/reader

warning(s): death (obviously), blood/injury, implied suicidal thoughts

genre: angst

diluc:

diluc has many feelings about this situation, the main one being: why

why would you do this to him? do you enjoy torturing him? is that it?

no, that’s not fair... he knows you didn’t mean to make everyone think you’d up and died on them

but still. two weeks. two ENTIRE weeks he’d thought you were gone

it had been a simple trek to dragonspine, and you’d reassured him that you’d be fine without him, so he’d stayed behind to deal with business, while you put up a request for some volunteers from the adventurer’s guild to come with you

in the end, a team of five left mondstadt city. only four came back.

three days after you left, diluc opened the door of dawn winery to see those four ghostly, stricken faces staring back at him. not a word was said for a good minute, but in that moment, he already knew what news they were about to deliver

he stopped them before they could recount the details of your inability to outrun the avalanche and subsequent fall. his mind had already laid out every agonising moment for him, from your last thoughts to your last breath - did you think of him? did you call for him, hoping against all hope that he would save you? did you die waiting for a hero that never came?

the next day, he joined the volunteers who set out to recover your body. if any of them noticed the lonely figure trailing behind them, head lowered and dragging his feet as if the weight of the world had fallen on his shoulder, they didn’t say a word

he dug first with his weapon, igniting the metal with his pyro vision so that it cut through the snow easily, and when that became too heavy for his grief-exhausted arms to bear, he dropped it and dug with his hands instead, refusing to give up, even when the cold seeped through his gloves and bit into his hands until the skin began to crack and bleed

but, in the end, they could only bury an empty casket. despite all of his efforts, they couldn’t find your body.

he chooses a quiet place by the vineyards of dawn winery and marks the grave with a simple headstone, vowing that he’ll come by every day to polish it - even when he’s old and grey, and the flowers have stopped springing up in the grass

and, of course, THAT’S when you finally decide to show up

“what’s with the long face?”

there you stand, in the flesh, perfectly healthy if not a little malnourished, still dressed in the now rather tattered clothes that you set out in, and, most importantly, alive

he can hardly believe it. in fact, he doesn’t believe it for a good moment or two; he turns away, blinking hard as frustrated tears threaten to running down his face. surely he can’t be so grief-stricken that he’s started hallucinating?

but then you walk up to him and set a hand on his arm, a comforting and wonderfully solid hand, and the warmth in your voice as you ask him what’s wrong is too true to life, too inimitable to be an illusion. it’s you, and you’re alive!

he saves the questions for later and wastes no time in pulling you to himself, sinking to the ground as his legs finally give out beneath him. you wrap your arms around him, and he’s dimly aware of you speaking, but he’s so awash with his own relief and unadulterated joy that he can’t hear anything but the ecstatic thumping of his own heart

these two weeks without you have been absolute hell. he never wants to feel as he did again. he never wants to lose you again - he can’t lose you again

because this time, at least, you came back. if you hadn’t, and if in the future, you don’t… well, diluc doesn’t know what he’d become

for now, though, he holds you close. he’ll worry about it tomorrow - and tomorrow can wait. it owes him this much.

kaeya:

when you suddenly show up, dripping wet and looking remarkably like you’ve spending the past few days being pickled in brine, to your own graveside wake, kaeya is absolutely beside himself

he’d rather been under the impression that you were dead. deceased. completely gone from this mortal coil.

after all, who could survive being dragged into the waters of qingce by an oceanid? who could suddenly resurface perfectly intact after being trapped under the surface of the water for over four hours?

you, apparently. and kaeya isn’t sure whether he should be throwing himself at you in joy, weeping out of pure relief, or giving you the hardest punch he can for scaring him like that

five hours he’d waited by the lake’s edge, freezing paths over the dark water in hopes that he might catch sight of you in those depths if he went further out, wandering all the way around the lake’s border and then back again, hoping against all hope that you might have washed up on the shore

he knew, though, deep down, that there was no point. you were doomed as soon as he let you slip under the surface.

he’d stayed in the area for the next few days, always finding himself wandering back to the lake, no matter how much he tried to focus on exploring the new landscapes, hoping against all hope that he might see you again

but, of course, he didn’t, and so he returned to mondstadt with a piece of himself missing - a piece of himself that, though he denied it, died as soon as he watched you disappear into the water

no one was willing to dive into that lake to retrieve your body - if there was even a body to retrieve. kaeya tried to return to qingce to do it himself, but jean wouldn’t even let him out of the city.

“i can’t let you go,” she’d said impassively, steeling herself against kaeya’s pathetic, pleading gaze. “it’s suicide.”

kaeya had stared back at her, and his reaction would stay with her for the rest of her life.

“so what?”

in the end, kaeya hadn’t been allowed to journey back to qingce, and the funeral was held without a body

at which point you suddenly walked right up to the morose procession and enquired, loudly, as to whose funeral it was

the brief silence that follows is so palpable that you could probably smash it with a hammer

kaeya's completely frozen on the spot, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as your other friends converge on you, and you disappear under a multitude of tearful hugs for the next five minutes. he stays there, unmoving.

it’s only once the two of you are alone in that deathly-quiet graveyard that kaeya finally lets himself break down. his entire body is trembling as he sinks to his knees right there on the grass, hands reaching up and tangling in his hair as he attempts to come to terms with the tumultuous feelings threatening to overflow from inside him

you kneel in front of him, opening your arms silently, and he can only fall forward into your embrace, burying his face in your shoulder and unable to stifle a sob of pure relief that you’re here, you’re alive, he didn't fail you after all

he tries to apologise for not being able to stop you from going under in the first place, for not being able to save you, for not going back for you, but you refuse to let him apologise for something that wasn’t under his control. you just hug him tighter and promise in whisper that he did all he could, and that you’ll never leave him like that again

eventually, the two of you will have to separate, but right now kaeya can’t bring himself to let him go - not when, mere hours ago, he’d thought he’d never be able to hold you like this again

how much time do you pass like this? neither you nor kaeya know. only the gravestones surrounding you like stone sentinels do - and only they will ever know.

childe:

it’s something he’s heard stories about plenty of times: a lover goes out to war, or to call on a relative, or to sell vegetables at a market in the city, and never returns. but that’s all it’s been to him - a story. he’d always thought of it as something that happened to other people, never something that could happen to him

but it has, and now he thinks he understands why, even in old age, those people’s faces still seem haunted by that loss - indeed, the moment he found your abandoned sword half-buried on one of the beaches of guyun stone forest is one that’ll probably be burnt into his memory forever

a tiny part of him had still clung to the hope that you were alive out there somewhere, but it had already been days since you were first pronounced missing, and you’d never leave your weapon behind - after all, you were visionless. you had no way of defending yourself properly without it.

childe stayed on that beach for a long time. he still doesn’t know how long exactly, but it was long enough for the sun to dip beneath the horizon and for the waves to start lapping impatiently at his boots.

when he did leave, he took your sword with him. but he didn’t bury it just yet - because he refused to let go of that shred of hope

he employed himself for the next few days with looking for any sign of you - day and night, with barely any time to eat or sleep, chasing every lead he could find, no matter how small

but he found nothing, despite pulling out every single desperate tactic he could think of. he began to think that maybe he never would.

eventually, he set off for your favourite spot on mount tianheng, beneath a tree on one of the peaks, but he still couldn’t bring himself to bury your sword there

so, instead, he stabbed the blade into the ground, anchoring it firmly in the dirt - and, after a moment, stabbed one of his own arrows into the ground beside it. he told himself that this arrow would protect your sword as he should have protected you in the first place.

now, five days later, however, when he arrives at that spot to have a quiet moment to himself, the sword is gone. so is the arrow. all that remains of them are two neat little slots in the ground where they’d been stuck

his first thought is that they’ve been stolen, and he feels an immeasurable kind of rage begin to bubble at the pit of stomach - but then he hears a sharp little whizz, and the arrow he’d stuck beneath your sword comes flying out of nowhere and buries itself in the dirt by his feet.

he looks up, and there you are. sitting on a lower branch of the tree, sword at your hip where it always is, wearing that smile that he adores so much.

you hop down, and he stares at you in sheer shock for a moment. finally, he takes two, deliberate steps forward, and pulls you into a silent embrace.

there are no words, no tears, barely even a sound, but the way that his body trembles in your arms tells you all that you need to know.

a long while later, the two of you finally pull apart, and he sniffs bravely, then says with some of his usual bravado, “well, you have to tell me all about what happened now.”

and that’s the end of that - or so you think

for weeks afterwards, childe finds himself lying awake into the small hours of the morning, unable to go to sleep. he’s scared - no, terrified that, if he closes his eyes, you won’t be there when he opens them again

it’s almost funny, to be honest - first, you taught him love, and now you’ve taught him fear

but, in a way, he’s grateful that he’s learned to feel it - because, as long as this fear persists, he’ll be able to protect you with all he’s got.

zhongli:

it must have happened during osial’s attack, but he didn’t find out until an entire week after the fact

zhongli hadn’t dwelt on the incident for long, selfishly indulging in the freedom of a life free of an archon’s responsibilities, completely unaware of what had happened to you

he did of course wonder why you hadn’t come to see him, feeling almost a little hurt, but he reassured himself with the thought that you were probably busy helping out around the city - becuase, despite the traveller, adepti, and qixing’s best efforts, liyue harbour did sustain a fair bit of damage from the whole ordeal

but then he’d spotted a poster pinned up beside one asking after the traveller’s missing twin - a poster that, somehow, he’d completely missed for the past few days (or was he simply refusing to see it?)

your face smiles at him from the yellowing paper, and the single word stamped above your head seems to echo around him

how had he not realised that you were missing for an entire week? had he really been so idiotic as to think it wasn’t odd that he hadn’t seen you on the streets at all?

or did he realise the truth when you didn’t return to him as soon as the battle was over? was he simply refusing to accept it until this moment?

he doesn’t know. to be honest, he doesn’t care.

two days later, your posters start disappearing. no announcement comes, but the absence says two words loud and clear - ‘presumed dead’.

he finds it impossible to enjoy his freedom now, when every smiling face on liyue harbour reminds him of you in the most damning way possible

the reflection of his eyes in the tea in the bottom of his cup seems to warp into your own eyes, glaring back at him accusingly, asking, why did you let me die?

because - and this is the worst part of it all - zhongli only has himself to blame for all of this

none of this would have happened if he hadn’t made that deal with the fatui. osial only rose again because zhongli allowed those harbingers to do what they did.

he lingers for a long while over this, but in the end, there are only two things he can do. everything is over; he can either continue to regret, or move on.

he decides to light some incense for you, and sets out to buy some from a local merchant

and it’s there, as he attempts to make sense of the multitude of numbers being thrown at him, that he suddenly sees your face amidst the crowd milling around the harbour

that isn’t anything out of the ordinary anymore, but then he blinks and looks again, and you don’t swim out of view or fade away; you’re still very much there, wearing a faintly annoyed expression as the crowd around you continues to buffet you back and forth

zhongli makes a decision in a split second, abandoning the incense in the surprise merchant’s hands and charging after you, calling your name with barely-disguised desperation - and you barely have time to turn around before he’s crashing into you at such a speed that the two of you go toppling clean over

the people around scatter, some simply shaking their heads at the disturbance and others standing in shock at the sight of such a man behaving like this, but zhongli can’t be bothered to keep up his image at a moment like this

“you’re alive,” he whispers, indescribable joy rising in his chest when you laugh in reply. he didn’t think he’d hear that sound ever again.

the two of you must be a sight, tangled together and half-lying in the middle in th middle of the street. it’s the sort of behaviour that one would associate with lovesick teens, not the refined gentleman of a god that he is

then again, he can’t really help it. this is just the sort of thing you do to him - and he’s absolutely fine with it

xiao:

he should've known better than to let you see him in the first place, let alone get attached enough to keep allowing you to meet him over and over again

bad luck follows xiao around like a shadow, and it isn’t picky about who it affects

still, he did it anyway - he continued appearing to you whenever you asked him to

it was idiocy - though others might have called it love. for xiao, there isn’t really a difference - because only a fool would think they were deserving of love after committing the crimes that he had.

at first, you were never in danger when you called his name. he came anyway, of course - but then, one day, you were in danger, and he didn’t, not until it was already too late

the two of you hadn’t even been that far apart - he had perched atop one of the stone pillars in huaguang stone forest, and you’d been nearby on mount hulao. if only he’d responded as soon as you’d called, he would’ve gotten there on time.

but he was selfish, and chose to stay there on the pillar for a few moments longer, wanting just another minute to quiet contemplation before he joined you on the mountain

and, as the most damning torture of all, fate had you fall just as he landed on the mountain. he could only watch as you disappeared under the geovishap’s gargantuan claws

the minutes after that are unclear. all he remembered afterwards was the sure weight of his spear in his hands, the wind whipping against his face as he moved faster than he ever had before, the burn of tears in his eyes

xiao had thought that he’d long since lost the ability to cry. how cruel it was that this was how he learnt that he hadn’t.

when he became fully conscious of his surroundings again, the geovishap was stone dead, and you were nowhere to be seen.

still delirious (with grief or anger he didn’t know), xiao fled from the mountain, leaving behind the geovishap’s corpse, and a lump of amber that hadn't been there before

he didn’t know where he was going, only that he was running - and maybe, if he ran fast and hard enough, he’d be able to run straight out of his nightmare, and wake to find you alive on the other side

but, of course, he wasn’t dreaming, and he couldn’t wake up if he wasn’t asleep in the first place

which brings us to now. the last days since the incident have passed in a grey blur, and the fog is finally starting to lift enough from xiao’s mind for him to make a realisation

the amber on mount hulao - would it be too presumptuous to hope that his fellow adepti knew of his bond with you, and protected you where he couldn’t? he almost dares not to hope, but…

he moves faster than the wind itself, and he’s touching down at the spot before he’s even fully aware of it, the geovishap’s body has already melted away into the grass, leaving only the lump of amber that he’d somehow not taken account when he left all those days ago

breath held in anticipation, he raises his spear, and strikes the amber with the sharp edge of the blade. several shards splinter away; he spots something familiar within the orange resin

he works feverishly, and soon enough the last of the amber falls away, revealing you, in perfect health, and a little annoyed by the fact that he took this long to get you out

you can’t really stay mad at him for long, though, not with him looking at you like that, eyes wide and almost wondering

xiao surprises both you and himself by abruptly throwing his arms around you. he’s never initiated contact with you before, and you yourself have never gone beyond just patting his arm

it feels nice, he decides. he can only thank the universe - and his fellow adepti - for the fact that he’s able to lose himself in your embrace like this.

venti:

he heard the news one late afternoon, as he stood playing through his usual repertoire beneath the statue outside the cathedral

he’d picked up on your name amidst a conversation between two people passing by, and while his outward demeanour didn’t give anything away, he was listening intently almost immediately

“...don’t know what happened, but they found their boat by starsnatch cliff this morning. no body or anything, though.”

“talk about unlucky… they must have gotten caught in a storm or something.”

that was all venti managed hear before the two move out of earshot, but it was enough to shake him right to the core. his fingers stumbled on the strings of his lyre, so tense that he accidentally snapped a string

the crowd started murmuring amongst each other as he slowly lowered the instrument, face frozen and eyes wide. then he suddenly turned and sprinted in the direction of the knights of favonius’s headquarters, ignoring the loud complaints coming from his audience

he burst into the building without bothering to wait for approval from the guards outside, and they probably would have arrested him if lisa hadn’t walked out of the library at that moment and stopped them

venti practically dropped to her feet, begging her to tell him what happened - surely what he heard wasn’t true?

but lisa only shook her head and offered to bring venti to the site of your wrecked ship. she didn’t know either

the knights escorting the librarian to starsnatch cliff didn’t say anything about the bard following them, but the pitying looks they shot him said it all. they didn’t think there was a chance that you had survived.

in the end, venti couldn’t bring himself to face the wreckage - because he knew he would lose all hope if he did

he spends the next five days sitting at the precipice of starsnatch cliff, gazing out across the endless seas, desperately wishing that he might see the shape of a raft or a boat riding the distant waves. several times he falls asleep and dreams that your figure was sailing back to him from the fog, only to wake to see nothing but empty horizons again, and no amount of wind can swipe away his bitter tears then

then, on the evening of the fifth day, he suddenly sees something - a lone figure seemingly stumbling across the surface of the water itself, lurching every now and then

it’s been a long time since he’s used his powers like this, and his abilities have waned since the loss of his gnosis, but now he’s able to spur himself to his feet, gathering masses of winds beneath him, and he flies straight for the figure with wild abandon

and - joy of all joys - it’s you!

ice crackles from your feet with each, heaving step you take, and he realises that you’re clutching a blue-glowing stone in one hand

in that moment, venti forgets all enmity between him and tsaritsa, and thanks her with all his heart for granting you a vision

he swoops down and catches you in his arms, and the wind follows in his sheer joy, sending the two of you tumbling this way and that, before finally depositing you gently on the shore, mere metres away from your wrecked ship

venti doesn’t even speak for a good while, just clings to you desperately and refuses to let go for even a moment, and somehow that’s even worse than if he’d been in floods of tears instead

you just hold him in return, trying to catch your breath, and the two of you end up falling asleep right there and then, despite how uncomfortable it is there in the sand

venti’s been all cried-out for hours now, and your limbs are so heavy with fatigue that you can barely move, so there the two of you stay, huddled together like children

venti has already loved and lost once before, and that had been enough to think he would never love again. then you came along, and he loved, and lost again, but this time you came back to him, and for that he will always be endlessly grateful

albedo:

the two of you had been out on an impromptu resource-gathering expedition (read: secret date) on wuwang hill. it was your first time in liyue, so you were practically buzzing with excitement, and albedo felt more content than ever with watching your face light up at every new thing you saw

but the evening had quickly soured when the two of you came across a gang of treasure hoarders taunting an injured fox

albedo attempted to calm you down, wanting to deal with the situation as diplomatically as possible, but you’d been positively beside yourself, and flew forwards, aiming a punch at the leader of the group

somehow you managed to punch him hard enough to knock several teeth out of his mouth, and as he stumbled backwards with a yell of agony, the rest of the treasure hoarders turned on you as well

albedo couldn’t very well leave you to fight them off on your own (and, to be honest, he didn’t think very highly of the hoarders’ behaviour thus far), and so the two of you stood back to back, fending off all sorts of projectiles and punches being aimed at you

but neither of you were fighting to kill, only to defend and possibly incapacitate, so the things the two of you could do were limited. albedo imprisoned a decent number of them in geo-produced prisons, but they just kept coming - it was like two arrived to replace each one you knocked down

soon enough the two of you were cornered right on the edge of the hill, and, noting the dizzying fall behind, albedo turned to tell you that the two of you should retreat

everything that happened next seemed to be in slow motion. you turned to look at him, stance wavering for just the briefest of seconds - and a stray thrown blade struck you directly in the chest

in that moment, as you teetered on the edge, eyes wide and seemingly staring directly into his, everything around him seemed to drop into darkness

everything came to a standstill as you fell. the treasure hoarder that threw the blade stood there in shock, and as albedo stood there, frozen in horrified disbelief, his friends quickly seized him by the arm and ran for it

a wise choice - because, if they’d still been there when albedo suddenly came to, they probably wouldn’t have survived the encounter

instead, with no one around to take his anger out on, albedo could only hurry to find you down below on the rocks, using his geo vision to create steps along the steep cliff face

you aren’t breathing when he finally gets to you.

time seems to slow down. he sits there beside you for what feels like an eternity, until the sun has gone down and the blue sky is replaced with a carpet of darkness and stars

it’s beautiful, but he can’t bring himself to look at it. as far as he's concerned, the stars went out the moment he watched you fall, and he has no interest in looking at a dead sky

then, suddenly, he realises something. he doesn’t have medical training, now has he ever learnt to heal… but that doesn’t mean he can’t fix you in other ways

he knows that he doesn’t have the strength to carry you all the way to his laboratory in dragonspine, but he brings plenty of things everywhere with him - and there are plenty of other methods he can employ as well

taboo things, maybe, things that he never would have even thought to try on any other occasion - but he’s desperate, and there is no such thing as too far when it comes to you

he works with almost maniacal fervour, trying one thing after another and another, refusing to let himself rest for even a moment - because each passing minute marks even more distance between the two of you, and he cannot, will not let you drift out of his reach

hours later, the stars have disappeared again, and you open your eyes to see albedo gazing down at you with a faint smile.

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