When You Sculpt

• When You Sculpt •

I vividly remember someone requesting for hadcanons of how Riddle and Malleus would react to a Yuu who did sculptures, there was also a 3rd boy but I genuinely can't remember who TwT (threw in the fae dad for substitute). This request was sent around last year and the ask itself is gone so to whoever sent that forgotten ask, may you find peace now with the complementary drink .

When you create sculptures

Someone of his background would have at least some sort of take regarding sculptures right? And even then it's limited to what he knows of their use within history's narrative.

For one he's aware that royalty such as the ever revered Queen of Hearts would flaunt their might through embellished luxuries, sculptures of their visage being one of them.

So to hear you, the prefect, having a level of adapetivity with that specific art... you have his attention. Depending on whether you wear gloves on the daily are leave them bare, he'll find out with the smudges of material left on your calluses.

At first he thought not much of it, maybe it was from an activity in class that day? Who knows, however his thoughts were disproved when you came up to him at an unbirthday party's aftermath.

It was rare for students to approach him after the tradition, after all no one wants to stay any longer within the rule's chokehold, before he could interrogate your sudden approach he was kept silent by the clothed object within your two hands.

"You'd like for me to unveil it...? This isn't an attempt to prank me is it?"

You'll have to forgive his suspicious considering the dorm he runs, but the genuine expression on your face convinced him enough to entertain your request, sure enough he wasn't disappointed no far from it.

Gifts were something he wasn't sure of, normally they were given in a beneficial sense by his mother or perhaps a favor if it's from some no name mob, but the hardened clay figure shaped to resemble him met his pale gaze, he was rendered speechless for a few moments.

Coughing to regain his composure he gently allowed his own two hands to take the base of the figure from your grasp, upon closer inspection he began to take in more of the details you paved down the block of material, down to the illusion of his dorm's cape cascading behind the sculpted figure of him.

He never thought someone would actually see him in such admirable light, Riddle appreciates your work and intends to show his gratitude with his actions towards you and the gift itself, if you're lucky enough to be close to him... you may just see it displayed on his study table. And whenever he's in doubt during a draining time all it takes is a lingering stare at that gift, assured that someone at one point revered him not as a tyrant, but as a hardworking figurehead.

Malleus is, royalty we all know that. So it wouldn't be a surprise that he's has had other artisans pave his image on blocks of materials for the sake of show.

And yet even then he couldn't help but to feel warm when he saw your shorter stature running up to him in the dead of night at Ramshackle's foyer, holding a miniature figurine of him with your initials engraved under the base.

All those gold and marble depictions of him at the royal ground in Briar Valley were grand yes, but there was something more personal with your craft, something meaningful with the nights you spent to perfect the curve of his two horns.

He doesn't admit it to your face, but you'll have to forgive the fae for catching you working hard near your bedroom window on nights you didn't see him on the grounds. That's one of the things humans fascinate him with, their general drive to pursue a goal with what little time is on their hands, and with a prefect like you who's bound to an array of duties and obligations? Your time is precious, even he understood that.

He even kept the satin green veil you used to cover your (admittedly not surprise) gift, the imagery of him standing ever sternly with his hand gripping the dorm's staff was one he thought was executed nicely.

"You seem to have a knack for this sort of craft...if I may intrude, would you care to share where you learned your skill?"

Whether you were eager or calm with your narration, he'd take in every word and sentence with great interest. The sculptors he knew were all seasoned in age and even then they were what you'd consider polymaths in their own right, so to see an ordinary human from another world practice the same meticulous art was of great amusement to him.

The Diasomnia dormleader stores your gift somewhere safe, when he got back to the dorm he easily handled the plethora of questions thrown by the ever loud first year retainer he fostered. Waving a dismissive hand and painting your work with quaint praise.

There at the top of his bookshelf far from his other belongings, stood the minuscule depiction of the fae prince himself, the satin cloth used as a surface cover in order for the green hue to reflect off the solid figure whenever the light hits it at the right angle.

In shorter terms, Malleus has once again been given a reminder of what humans can manifest should the circumstances garner them to do so. And on nights before slumber he gazes back to that gift with a personal sense of fulfillment.

The vice dormleader of Diasomnia knows many things about many subjects, more than he'd like to let on unfortunately. His take on sculptures were that of a veteran's.

He knew what they meant and possibly entailed, they can either be made to glorify a hero's victory, or perhaps to foretell the wrongdoings of some villainous figure in the form of flammable wood. Either way he knew the effort that was poured into making sculptures regardless of reason or material.

It was a simple Friday for him, classes have finished and he was about to make his way to the light music club's vicinity when he slowly caught your nearing image within his peripheral vision. With an ever friendly wave he greets you and your... sweating state?

Lilia tilts his hear at your current state, seemingly tired from what he assumed was walking all the way here holding something fairly heavy, at least that's what he guessed on the covered object you held so dearly. The third year didn't wait for your words- immediately raising the magenta cloth out of his own curiosity...and great seven he had no regrets.

There under the piece of cloth was what looked to be himself sitting upon an Ivy grown wall, wanting to see more he snatched the cloth off the piece allowing the sunset's hue to settle on the solid figure that depicted none other than him.

"What's this we have here? It's safe to assume it was none other than you who paved such a piece~? Fufufu I quite like it you definitely caught all my features."

Like Malleus, he most likely have already his fair share of sculptures dedicated to him back home at Briar Valley as a veteran to their history, but minor musings such as the one you tired delivered to him? He finds it pleasant in every right!

You were so busy catching your breathe he never allowed you to speak for yourself, going on his own tangent regarding how well done you carved out the vines that climbed the brick wall his miniature self sat on. Judging by the level of details he can only assume you were adept in your field of craft.

A string of chuckles left the fae, easing you of your burden by taking the figure into his own hands while waiting for you to finally regain your composure. His thumb grazed an embossed part behind the sculpted brick wall of the piece, raising the gift to inspect it closer only to see a hastily embedded signature, yours most likely!

To receive a gift such as this from an isekaid student, Lilia would deem it as rare among all the ones existing in the world, after all only few ever receive homage of respect from a non twisted wonderland native right? Lilia will take pride in that aspect, patting you affectionately on the head and leaving in his fae way leaving you alone in the halls. Before dropping by at the light music club he'd put the gift away in the comforts of Diasomnia's lounge where all may be graced with the glory of your creation. Lilia as eccentric as his way was, deeply appreciated the sentiment.

Henlo, my chold/p I love you’re writing so much, and I’m happy you’re coming back! What would platonic Divus Crewel think of his student doodling fashion sketches in class?

• Designer's Dilemma •

Hello n.n, honestly I do miss trying my hand on the writing side of things but I’ll always come back no matter how long the leave. This request was definitely a joy to make, I’m a bit of a sucker for proud staff moments but shhhhh

When you're caught sketching in class:

Professor Crewel isn’t as hard to please as most immediately assume, as long as you follow his instructions down to a t then you're set for a good day!... assuming you know how to follow directions, that is.

Alright we can admit that it's a bit hard to the point that some exaggerated takes regarding crewel's cruelty doesn't feel exaggerated. And those lamentations are valid!- as valid as Crewel getting mad when someone isn't paying attention to his current lectures.

Sometimes puppers need discipline, without your attention on him you're prone to slipping up on the actual experiment itself and would you want that? Of course not, the danger it poses is too much of a risk for him to simply be relaxed about hence his uptight teaching methods.

Now picture his reaction when he was thoroughly observing his students taking down notes, his previous lecture written on the black board littered with formula after formula., only to see something else on your paper. This was Alchemy class so one would at least be mindful when it came to what they jotted down on their notes.

He stopped walking along the aisle of seats, eyes squinting to the contents of your writings which, apparently had the finished lecture notes on the left side while the right was covered in faceless figures, all showing off different types of clothing wear.

He takes another step towards your seat, this time finally being able to glimpse over your hunched shoulder, two to three sketches he counted, were these all from your own musings? Initially he was about to call you out, you were one of his more tolerable puppies but that unjustified disappointment was easily replaced with general intrigue instead, finding the unfinished designs pleasant so far. If you hadn't finished your work he might’ve given a word or two but for now he let's your behavior slide.

"A belt buckle would balance that part."

His sudden and quaint advice barely registered within earshot, the Alchemy professor walking past your desk without even sparing you a glance garnering you to think whether you imagined that line or not.

Your suspicions grew futile as days passed, a routine of off handed comments being thrown left and right to which you idly followed...some helping your work and some simply not suiting your taste. Regardless this back and fourth insight brought an odd sense of bonding between the Alchemy proffesor and his dear student.

One day you finally gathered the courage to actually go up to him after class hours, your proper sketchbook in hand and a determined huff before knocking on the staff door. He let's you in without much stepback, you open the door to him seated at his desk some papers stacked neatly to his side. He beckons you to come over and gestures for you to open your sketchbook- immediately knowing what you were here for.

Proffesor Divus Crewel doesn't admit it out loud, but he finds your work promising, your creativity shone with every swift brush stroke holding together the blotches of colors into one eye catching piece. You may not be a full fledged professional but you were definitely on the right track into becoming one should you wish to pursue this as a career. And until then he'd be there to keep you on that track, after all it's his job to keep a puppy's nose on the right scent, yes?

"Why you ask? Simply put its my duty"

A duty he fulfills wholeheartedly.

It's the inner urge to overblot while looking elite 🥱

I’m reviving this acc to the best of my abilities this is an impulsive decision 😭

⸢𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓⸥ • ⸢𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 & 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒⸥ • ⸢𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓⸥

"𝐈 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞..."

Welcome! Care to join me for a drink? Ah how long has it been... I've gone by an array of aliases but most are more comfortable with calling me Rras, the keeper around these parts.

I'm always open to random asks and OC interactions! I do ask that you all be patient should I go MIA as I'm a student finishing her final years.

— 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐒 ➽

Twisted Wonderland, Obey Me, Genshin Impact, Yuukoku no Moriarty, Spriggan, A!3, Classroom of the Elite, Hetalia, Ikemen Vampire, Bungo Stray Dogs, Jujutsu Kaisen, Danganronpa, Manhwa/Manhua/Manga etc.

— 𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐒 ➽

Jade Leech (Kin), Grim (Platonic), 🐙, Ace Trappola, Ruggie Bucchi, Silver, Mammon, Mephistopheles, Solomon, Kaeya Alberich, Al Haitham, Shikanoin Heizou, Fred Porlock, Mycroft Holmes, Romano Vargas, Arthur Kirkland, Isaac Newton, Arthur Conan Doyle , Inumaki Toge, Geto Suguru, Chuuya Nakahara, Sakunosuke Oda.

• Serpentine Warning •

A long ago written fic finally seeing the light of day. Talk of a lavishly thrown banquet had reached your attention, will you risk the seeping venom to partake in the labyrinth of genuine deceit?

Semi Slow burn, potential enemies to lovers, set in an older time period.

Tag a snake stan perhaps?

The estate where the Asim family resided can be described by an array of metaphors, usually falling among one of three classifications. A genie’s threshold where anything you wish regardless of foolishness, may be granted by miracles possible in wealth. An endless catalyst for the wonders of the very scalding sands merchants traverse in the name of prosperity. And the more unpleasant.. A den of vipers waiting to feast on sinners unworthy of the world’s finest gold. Just how exactly these whispers of two way grandeur came to be, was a tale left to be told by whoever managed to avert their longing.

Despite the countless uncertainties that surround the estate, we are but only human where it’s in our nature to go after what we can’t reach in hindsight. Ambition? Desire? Greed? Time and time again these fickle reasons plague the human heart, try as you might but not even the rush or lack of blood can disprove the temptation whenever one lays their eyes on the doors looming the visage of fools. Had you been none the wiser…would you have turned away? Or did the venom already entice you before you could take one step on the embellished tiles?

How pitiful…then again, so was he.

—

The heat wasn’t all that forgiving, neither was the vendor you tried talking to in hopes of gathering a bit of knowledge regarding that diamond in the rough, a building that can never be missed for a mirage in this literal desert. A subtle sneer left their lips before finally caving in due to your state.

“That gold den-er- estate is where Asim and his family live, with more children than a run of the mill town, there ain’t wondering why it beats the property size of the capital…”

Eyes blinked in thought over what the vendor said, a promising beast tamer such as yourself had seen many things over your travels, a wealthy family isn’t inherently new but this was a different case. One may even call it dire.

“Asim… say, sir. How well do they take to guests.?”

That vendor soon relished in his fit of cackles, hand waving before reaching for the side of his stained turban. It was obvious he didn’t think of the question seriously, much less taking this new face traveler in a genuine manner. How can he? 

“Listen kid- they may not be royalty or sultan in status but trust me when I tell ya that-”

A mere single coin was thrown over his counter, the gold glint of maddol caught the vendor’s eye but he merely shook his head before pushing back the money over to you.

“-regardless of tipping, this is just friendly advice. Call it hm..good deed? Good karma? Whatever the shaftland folks call it- unless you’re a big shot yourself you’ can't exactly waltz over to their door and expect to be received lightly”

The traveling beast tamer could only sigh in response, but his honesty was appreciated at least. Old eyes scanned your reaction, it wasn’t entirely rare for merchants to just come and aim for a hook with the Asims but observing you told him that you had pure intentions. He coughed to get your attention to which you gingerly complied by looking back up at him.

“Buuut those folks are holding a public banquet or something along those lines- rich folk get bored in confusing ways honestly” 

With newfound hope and turning on their heels they gave one final wave to the vendor, before turning their gaze over to him once he was a good distance away. Pulling down the hood of their worn out cloak to flash a genuine grin.

“I’ll take your word for it, thank you again”

He could only grin in giddiness when he found a few of his fruits gone in exchange for twice their price. Maybe Shaftland morals work after all, he thought.

What exactly was your goal here? Simple really… as simple as trying to find a place to stay for the week is. Let’s rewind shall we? The worn out cloak on your back covers the brooch one called Dire Crowley bestowed on you, as his student in the art of beast taming. Yet it’s that very same man who gave one ambitious assignment before you can be truly called a full fledged beast tamer.

‘Reach the other end of the map, your prize and insignia as a beast tamer will wait for you. Aren’t I so gracious for molding you into a fine veteran of your field~? But a good beast tamer must be able to withstand the curses of the world just as their beast can withstand the orders of their master. Use any means necessary, just make sure to get to your destination.’

You can still hear the echoes of his frivolous laughter in your head, or were the effects of the sun’s heat already taking effect? Either was just as bad as the other truth be told. Recalling the old vendor’s words, you hoped that you’d stumble upon a kind host within that banquet, the sun was at its afternoon peak so you should still have a bit of time to prepare. An inn would’ve been an option if you actually manage to find one not crawling with greedy thieves. The last one you tried had almost stolen your brooch! Life was hard, even you  understood that, resorting to a life of crime isn’t gonna keep you on the brighter side of life… that’s what you’d like to believe anyways.

Your train of thought came to an abrupt stop when you harshly bumped into someone, two grunts collided rendering you both to retreat. Lost in your own lamentation you failed to notice someone carrying what looked to be bags of fruits and vegetables…a bit too much for one simple family dinner you thought.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t looking-”

“Don’t, no need…”

Velvet like voice ringed in your range of hearing, only now did you observe the man you’ve had the misfortune of bumping into. Dark hair cascaded down his back in sets of braids embedded with bits of gold. You immediately kneeled down to help collect the scattered fruit muttering a string of apologies to which he didn’t say much on rather, focusing his attention on reorganizing his bought goods. You look up only to be met with deep charcoal gray eyes, laced with neither gratitude nor disdain. Perhaps the sun’s heat was beginning to take its toll on your senses but all you knew was that he had already finished recovering from the nasty fall.

Without being given another chance to apologize he briskly stepped past you and left the scene, earning a scoff on your end for his rude conclusion but then again you did admit that it was partially your fault… And yet you couldn't help but to feel a tad bit irate with how passive he was with your sincerity, the least someone could've done was communicate normally, yes?

The thought only made your head hurt, refusing to succumb to the heat’s effects. You shook your head and allowed your steps to take you to a well shaded area. The formation of the dry plants along the stone benches told you that this was supposed to be some sort of park. Was it well kept? In a way perhaps one could call it that… So with a heavy sigh you rested until it was time.

—

Any blemish within the estate's reputation burns and disappears on certain nights. Just like this moment where your feet are leading you to the tall gold encrusted doors where guests of all status are pouring in like moths drawn to a flame, the open banquet was truly an enchanting fire to behold. With the occasion being held by none other than the merchant Asim, said to be a monarch of the trade world but such descriptions were never left spineless. This open banquet where even the poorest of street rats or the richest of peacocks may make merry in the name of festivity. Was this a flaunt of wealth? Power? Influence? A warning? An invitation? It always depends on who's asking. 

The outside should've given you a sufficient heads up for what lies beyond the doors, the towering structure against the twilight sky felt ethereal from afar sure but when the heel of your shoe made contact with the carpet…

“-to your liking is it?”

Gaze locked with sharp serpentine like eyes, your attention piqued the moment the tall male gave a small smile. It was the same man from earlier...only now did your eye catch the circular bronze tray under his arm, was he a staff here perhaps? It didn’t take you much to notice his mannerisms. They were attentive with an air of caution. A small nod was given in return to his inquiry, laced with the slightest bits of bittersweet respect.

“Yes, its reputation precedes it…”

He gave a slow nod, when he first bumped Into you he didn't think much of the accident, simply writing it off as that- an accident. Your attire did gave him a vague idea but now that you stepped foot on the family's estate? He couldn't tell whether you'd still remain as a forgettable face on today's boisterous event. Jamil subconsciously gripped the tray tighter, deeming your presence as something to try and minimize contact with. He needed to do that while everyone was at their lightest, he heard your conversation with that old vendor earlier- a beast tamer at a time like this? It posed a threat to his otherwise calculated plan of action.

There was something about his gaze that made you feel on edge, yet it wasn’t the type that urged you to stay away. Earlier you could barely observe any display of emotion under the scorching sunlight but now it's effect was the opposite, the feeling left you standing where you stood, eyes lingering to his distanced figure. 

"You should scurry along then…loitering won't do you much good"

And here you thought he'd at least hold the hospitable front a bit longer. Your first impression of him had no immediate mark but now he was finessing his way over to your iffy list. Gingerly following his advice you gave an instinctive scoff, hastily walking to a safer spot where you wouldn’t be blocking the entrance. What was it with him? Dropping by and whisking out of your sights the next, it was as if he was purposely doing it. The mere thought was provoking on your end and had you been none the wiser perhaps you would've tailed that man. 

You did your best to put those thoughts to rest, making small talk with most of the guests in hopes of finding a good host for travelers such as yourself. Standing next to these lavishly dressed personnel felt humbling, truth be told, each parading their utmost worth for the public eye. You weren't too low on the tier of prestige, showing elements of sage Island fashion with the addition of your dearly loved brooch pinned to the left of your chest. A prospect beast tamer like yourself earned you your fair share of charismatic talks, perhaps associating with that oh so gracious bird kept your social ammunition full and loaded. 

Talk led you down the line of guests, eventually coming into contact with the king of merchants himself. Despite being new around these parts there was just a certain air of luxury radiating off of the grinning man you're currently conversing with. If you possessed a keener sense of smell there were faint traces of foreign herbs laced on his person here and there. 

"Why- if it's a place you need then I have rooms upon rooms for guests of your sort! It'd be a shame if a student of Crowley couldn't even be treated accordingly!"

You had to suppress a cough when he patted your back with the slightest bit of force, lost in his own glee of receiving yet another fine guest at his humble abode.

"W-why thank you for your hospitality sir. I'll be sure to inform my mentor of your gracious act"

This was what earned your ticket to a safe haven of rest, you thought, not catching the way he called for someone to come over.

"Oh you're too kind my child- your field is an art to behold! I'm quite a fan myself if I'm being honest, Oh the menagerie you'd love it! Who knows you might be even able to assist in taming this new find we had shipped from the north!-  ah but where are my manners? Look at this old man bombarding the youngster with his nonsense- I'll have you escorted by someone to your quarters."

The shared smiles on your faces dropped when you saw who exactly your escort was. They say once was happenstance, twice was coincidence and third…

"Oh? If that's the case...then I'll see to it that they arrive there safely"

...three times is enemy action.

"Thank you Viper, you're in good hands here my dear guest"

"Is that so…"

The grand chandeliers reflected a golden hue over his expression, displaying sharpness for whatever he was intending to do. You of all people would know what that foretold, reading a beast's mannerisms were part of your skills and only few would admit that it was the same with people.

Jamil in turn observed your expression, it was one he himself had to be cautious of. He's served this estate all his life and that guard you refuse to lower would either hinder or work in his favor. Keeping formalities in mind he gave a partial bow to your figure where even his master can see the servant's deed. Subtly extending an arm forward for you to take.

One week, for one week neither of you are free from the other's thoughts. And had you known it would have cost you your tranquil peace of mind, you wouldn't have jumped into this den of venom. Nor would've you accepted his hand for guidance, calloused yet tender warmth left as soon as it met your own skin.

A/N: This is a starter fic, should demand call for it then a continuation will be given 👀. Jamil is fun to write and He'd be more fun to characterize in a situation where his priorities and morals will be compromised.

Your requests have opened and i'm a starving animal-

Can the great god tier writer bless me with a meal of Pee Paw Zhongli and eye patch bastard Kaeya, I'm fine with anything you choose for the request! Angst, comfort, hcs, anything

If i cry i cry 🤙

• Barista's Choice (I)•

This is like, the writer's equivalent of "make your favorite drink" and unfortunately for you I drink my coffee without milk-/lh. You know what maybe I'll add a dash of sugar here just a small pinch :D

⚠️ Mentions of Alcohol ⚠️

When you stop coming for drinks:

The elusive gentleman of Liyue opened a teashop out of his own accord, Zhongli finds great comfort in brewing the many beverages he learned over the course of his lifetime, and at one point you also shared his enthusiasm for the sorts of tea he served.

Your first meeting was memorable in a way, it's been a few weeks since he's opened his quaint shop and the flow of customers were not too much nor too light in workload. That was when you came by.

An adventurer stopping by in the capital of commerce? Nothing out of the ordinary, judging by your attire Zhongli concluded that you hailed from somewhere else, save for the tasseled Keychain you have hooked on your bag likely a souvenir from the harbor.

He found amusement in your joy, the way you happily drank up the cup of tea gushing about the flavor it left on your tongue. It was just the right amount of warmth to! The type that even forges the greatest of blades over molten fire.

This first meeting only became special the more you frequented his shop, most of the time you had a tea flavor in mind but there were some days where you allow him to concuct something to surprise you, a chef's recommendation in a way.

And even then you came to love this forgotten flavor he gladly serves, often times when you'd ask what was the name he'd simply raise a gloved finger over his parted lips to signify their covered history, there was a certain narrative behind the brews you so eagerly down and to Zhongli serving them is enough recognition for the stories they herald.

But one day you didn't come by your usual time, the next day was the same and so one until days became weeks, and weeks became months. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't worried, you may not be personally close but he did indeed fester fondness over your presence.

"I'll be here regardless, until they do come by for a drink once more.."

It was a fleeting moment within his vast history, one he got lost in to the point that he shamefully forgot that things come and go differently. In a way that maybe you just cease to exist in his day to day routine.

Whatever happened to you? Did you perhaps went on with your journey? Migrated to another place? Forgive him for his curiosity for its the only thing he can do in his position. He isn't unratoonal enough to actively search for you, he's learned through experience that chasing something that was not within your reach is like complaining what fate serves. And he of all people should know what happens when you question fate.

When the weeks became a year, on the same date you first came by, he left a fresh cup of tea on the counter where he subconsciously hopes you'd come back. The same brew of tea he made for the person that reminded him of humanity's ability to appreciate the smaller things in life.

It's a miracle Diluc even let him be the man behind the bar but here he was. The second adopted son himself shaking drinks for alcohol enthusiasts of every kind ranging from bards to mondstat natives to passing travelers. One of which included you in particular.

It was a bustling hour at the tavern, it was simply by coincidence that you two locked gazes amidst the incoming drunkards. Most would've been turned off by the semi unruly ambience but the liveliness only made you feel more at ease, appreciating Mondstat's freedom in every way you could.

As most tourist would, you asked for a glass of dandelion wine since its the city's staple drink of choice. Kaeya gladly entertains your request even putting on a bit of a show for your amusement, someone as charming as yourself don't come by everyday at the tavern noh?

A throw and shake here a pour and swish there, your liquor was served accompanied by his usual grin, waiting for your reaction to Mondstat's wine. He could faintly remember when he first had a sip of the beverage and he hoped it was the same positive light like yours.

Sure enough you did indeed like the sweet aftertaste it left, it wasn't too sweet but it was the type you chase after once you've feasted on a Savory meal. Your expression of approval earned a satisfied chuckle from the bartender, leaning on the countertop to ask of your story and why you decided to drop by this city (besides for the wine of course.)

Everytime he passes by your figure in the streets he always offers a drink back at the tavern, he may not know where you were staying for time being but he does enjoy your talks after the sun settles leaving the night winds to gently pass by you two whenever he'd escort you to the vicinity for his shift. He's learned to distract himself from the sporadic lifestyle of the city of freedom with your grounded tales over a drink.

He always respected your privacy, but on the day you stopped showing up he started asking around whether anyone saw you recently. The first few people didn't have a beneficial answer but once he asked the personnel at the gate he didn't know why he felt disappointed when they told him that you left that morning.

"Did they now...hah, they could've at least gotten a drink for the road."

Kaeya sets aside one glass in the tavern, one specific glass he never uses when serving anyone else. That glass was a quaint reminder of the person he found amusement in, someone who he wouldn't mind seeing again should the gods allow it.

He's not one to dwell, not after everything that already left him in the past. But whenever he looks to your former seat he can still remember the first expression you made towards the dandelion wine he served to you. As time passes he began to subconsciously associate the wine with fond memories, back to times where a drink was shared among the people he held close.

Wherever you were now, he hoped that you could still have the leisure of having a good drink, hoping that he at least helped in influencing what a good drink was to you. It was just like the wine he's swaying in his hand, a relishing flavor leaving its aftertaste for the drinker to revel in.