-better An Arrow Than You - Tumblr Posts

Broken Memories

Genre: angst

A/N: More older stuff to post, hope you all enjoy. I did a quick proofread but knowing me I'll just say that there still may be some grammar mistakes :p

Lofty clouds sail over the Xianzhou Lofu, welcoming some distant warmth to befall the people after what felt like years and years worth of rain. Fresh air brings in the freshness which the rain left behind, feeling like a new slate of paper ready to be written on, but Blade just watches on in solemn silence. Tendrils of pain and ache make its way through his body in steady, continuous waves, not letting him relax, but not letting him move either. For him, only the present moment exists, and in a twisted way he is forced to accept it. His life knows no end, so he makes scarce peace with the present.

Remembrance of days already long and gone make their way to his head, when white locks fell down his back instead of raven black, and when he had friends to speak off, company to talk to, and dreams to dream about. In the long faded and broken memories he sees himself, Yingxing, strike a hot piece of metal over and over again until he gets it to the desired dimensions. Deft hands grab onto the pincers and tools and a bucket of cold water to mend the metal, and the process flows on effortlessly under his watchful gaze. Yingxing feels even more anxiety pool in his chest unlike he usually feels, his gaze fixated on carving the blade to have a more intricate design - this was no ordinary blade in the end, made to be given to some soldier or some higher up as compensation, no - it was a gift. It had to be perfect. Beyond perfect.

The dagger was curved and elegant, and in his hands it demonstrated to perfect balance between the point and hilt, and many little details were put into it in colors of gold and rose gold, your favorite gemstones, your favorite color in the leather grip, your favorite shapes, and about anything else he could incorporate into the dagger without overthrowing its aesthetic and its practical use. It shines beautifully under the pale sunlight, the rain clouds drifting away after days worth of rain. Yingxing smiles at his work, lifting it up above his head until he sees the reflection of his own eyes in the blade, full of mirth and under one eye there’s a smudge of charcoal. He can’t help the pride that makes his chest swell, and neither can he afford to wait for the following day to give it to you. So he makes quick work of packaging the blade and following the narrow roads, searching the entire city until he finds you and just gives the gift to you right then and there, in broad daylight with little introduction. Red paper is wrapped around the wooden box, not in the most skilled way, but in a caring way, and he relishes in the compliments you rain down upon him when he explains what it is, or even why he gave it to you. For once he feels really seen. His life-long mission is for once cast aside in favor of admiring this little side quest he ventured upon. And he feels like he could throw everything away if it meant seeing your joy every day. That evening you have invited him back to your home, served him tea and shared your events of the day, along with more passionate comments about the gifted dagger. 

Blade sighs, remembering your smile, your face, and he remembers how different it now looks in his distorted memories. He is forgetting.. He knows the face he sees in his memories is not the one he knew, he feels it in his bones and in his blackened heart. There is just something missing. The visage of his eyes can’t focus on your face nor the details of your clothes or your hands when they gripped his.

The broken dagger in his lap is unfixable - Yingxing is no longer here to mend it as before. Blade can only hold onto the essence of its memories until the whole world goes dark, and that says plenty of his grief and regret. His chin tilts down to look at the dagger, his finger jabbing at the broken blade as if it was a foreign object to him, something extra terrestrial, as if he didn’t pour his heart into it decades before. Perhaps he did pour his all into it, maybe that’s why the dagger followed the same fate as he did, as the smith poured a piece of his soul into his art. He can only hope the dagger does not represent you.. he hopes you’re out there, somewhere, happy, healthy, alive..

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

A/N: This is based off of this post I saw on tiktok theorizing that BootHill must've died a brutal death for only his head to remain.

Content: angst, scramble drabble, she/her, female reader, BootHill needs comfort and he gets it, BootHill written prior to his release

“-Hey, hey, BootHill, breathe, my love-” Warm and cautious hands cup the cheeks of her loved one who sat shaking on the very corner of her bed. Hair messy and some fallen in small clumps from the struggle with his artificial body. “Shh, you’re with me.. there’s no one around, just me” she tries to soothe him again, worry rising like a bubble in her throat at her partner’s distress.

BootHill’s eyes flickered between red and gray, jumping around the room but once they were on her, they looked at something past her, through her. Even with half of his human body gone he wasn’t spared of the terrible memories and dreams. Every once in a while they’d come back to haunt him and drag him through all the suffering once again. Like once wasn’t enough. And in his scared stupor he didn’t rise from the bed before tugging his own hair and trashing the bed, even managing to hit her in the pure state of his delirium in attempts to pull off the ropes he felt in his nightmare.

Ragged breaths fan across her hands and she has to call out to him a few more times until she finally gets a response that he’s finally lucid. “Huh-? Huh..what?” He stumbles, hoping to summon strength to feel again, with his hands, Metal wraps itself around her wrist, squeezing then lessening its grip before squeezing again. “It’s okay.. it was just a dream.. See? Just breathe, come on.. do it with me”

Worry is etched deep between her brows and her frown in the dim light of the bedroom, but she manages to calm him down. But with each twitch of his body she regrets the lack of things she could do. She would’ve intertwined their fingers together, would’ve hugged him until he realized he was being held - but what use of it was it when he physically couldn’t feel touch? It was like explaining colors to a blind man. She might as well cry with BootHill.

But she has to stay strong, and patient above all else. She needs to be his rock at this moment. “Come.. let’s rest some more. We can just lay down for now” she leads him to lay down after her, moving his head despite his confused and pained grunt, setting his ear to her chest. Her hands go to his hair and she holds him there, just like that. And she feels his weight fall onto her, no longer resisting.  The thump of her heart draws him in until it becomes the center of his world. He sees darkness before his eyes, but hears the light of the heart kept away from him, safe behind her ribs.

It was an anxious thump, fastened with fear and lack of air, before easing into a smoother rhythm. BootHill didn’t realize he was shedding tears until her gentle fingers brushed over the edge of his eyes, prompting them to close. “ ‘m sorry..” he muttered, swallowing a breath before he nuzzles his head against her chest, shuffling so his artificial body followed the long lost habit of his past self in the form of hugging. Mechanical arms practically trap her under him, and she only hugs his head closer. This is the least she could do..

Hearing him cry into her chest broke her heart, feeling how her shirt became damp,  and hearing him murmuring apologies for every tear that fell tested her strength too. He felt broken and lost, in hatred of the fate he was forced into and the suffering he had to endure, and he couldn’t give up, for that would mean betraying you. He just had to keep moving. 

BootHill can’t betray the only person left that he loves, and that loves him in return. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Pairing: Jing Yuan x GN!Reader

Content: slight angst, reader is cursed to be a sparrow

What had begun as an endearing little moment between the General and a sparrow had begun to be a routine soon after. Soft little feathers would brush up against his cheek as the little bird passed from one shoulder to the other underneath this thick hair, telling him stories in sweet little chirps, sometimes sad, but most times it sounded like any other sparrow call.

He had begun to miss his lover dearly, and he feared the worst may have struck them. Day in and out he was all ears and eyes for the sights of them, for the smallest of traces that could give way to their status, and silently he prayed to whoever was listening - please, let them live. Sighing, he’d turn to the little ball of fluffed feathers that perched on his shoulder, tilting its head side to side, silently asking him why he stopped giving it the attention it wanted. He gives it a smile, a tired curl of his lips that seems to catch the attention of the bird as it hopped closer to his face.

Being none the wiser, Jing Yuan would extend one finger for the bird to climb onto, bringing it closer to his face once it did and gently, until he could land one quick kiss to the top of its head. It didn’t fly away, but instead pecked his lips in return, causing the General to let out a husky chuckle, droopy golden eyes looking down at the mischievous creature. “Someone is surely feeling energetic this morning, I’m glad one of us is..” he trailed off, and his smile no longer reached his eyes. He was alone in the Seat of Divine Foresight. Not a soul in sight, and even the guards that would usually stand on each side of the door had been ordered to stay out - Jing Yuan couldn’t bear for his men to see him physically droop. He had an image to uphold. But, oh, how he missed them..

As he lowered his hand, the sparrow was prompted to stir the air with its little wings and search for purchase on his shoulder once more, hopeless to comfort him. If only he knew the bird on his shoulder would not live for much longer.. If only he knew the traces of his lover he's so diligently looking for are right under his nose...

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Hiya!! I have a WuWa request, how about Reader stargazing with Jiyan and them talking about some deep topic of ur choice while stargazing? Only if you’re up for it tho! Don’t push urself. Have a good day!

A/N: Thank you for your request anon! I hope you enjoy this :)

Contents: Jiyan x GN!Reader, angst and sadness

Low calls of an owl echo over the breath of the breeze, the soft sighs of nature enveloping you in its embrace. Your head is supported by the lush grass, and Jiyan’s bicep that he insisted you lay on. His tone was low and a soft timbre compared to its commanding tone when he was performing his duties. Jiyan’s body exudes warmth and comfort, and in all the ways you needed him, he was there.

“You shouldn’t be so reckless..” He’d mutter, golden eyes dark from drinking in the serene, dark scenery up above. Little stars were freckled across the sky like little faded droplets of milk, counting up to billions of the same, yet not one less beautiful than the other. 

The towering mountains sprouted from the ground so high, long rocks fingers reaching as far as possible, as if trying to grasp the fading lights and the moon itself.

“I know.. I try, Jiyan. Yet, I really can’t just stand by and watch, especially when I see you in the midst of it all, surrounded or cornered..” you respond back, quiet, not willing to disturb this serenity.

He hums, wordlessly in disagreement of your response yet he can’t bring himself to say anything in that exact moment. His mind is plagued by images of your exhausted form slumping behind a fallen tree trunk, and skin grimy with sweat and dirt. 

“I know you mean well, and you are doing your best. Yet, you are not a Midnight Ranger, love, you are not a soldier. This.. battlefield is not your place to be in” Jiyan says, his gaze leaving the midnight sky and falling on you, seeing the way your nose curved and how your eyes were much darker in the absence of a lamp or a fire. “I am the General, the leader of these men, and I don’t need you to step in for me, love..”

He sees your eyes lower to stare at nothing in particular, lashes fluttering while your throat bobbed with unease. His words rang true, but you couldn’t find yourself accepting them.  

“I need you alive... and I need you safe. While I can do my absolute best at shielding you while you are here, I cannot stand true to my promise to you if you’re jumping head first into hot water. Not when you do so behind my back”

“Jiyan… “ you sigh, trailing off, your lips opening and then closing as you try to pry your brain for a response that would get him to be more lenient, to see your side too.

“I know..” you say, your eyes finding his as you turn your face towards him. “I know.. I know you are doing your best, and I don’t wish to burden you with my-” “You are not a burden” “I know, Jiyan- let me talk.. please”

His lips press into a firm line and he gives you a small nod, encouraging you to keep going while his eyes apologize for cutting you off. One hand came to trace your cheek, he was almost laying on his side now.

“I don’t want to make your time more difficult, especially not when we’re in the middle of a battle. But don’t send me back to the city, please.. I can’t bear not being close to where I can see you. I am still useful here, perhaps not as a professional warrior or a soldier or a gunner, but I can help and I can learn too.. You talk about your promise to keep me safe, but what about our promise to stay alive... and with each other?”

Your question renders his thumbing of your cheeks slow before his fingers stop altogether in tracing your features, instead cupping the side of your face in his calloused palm. “I haven’t forgotten about that..'' he simply replies, the heaviness in his chest too great, making him unable to sigh to rid himself of it.  Fatigue hangs heavy over your heads, but neither of you are willing to cut the conversation or this moment short.

“Don’t send me back.. There is nothing for me there..” Not without you- it goes without being said, and he feels it in his bones that he can’t argue with you on this, you’ll both remain stubborn on your stances. He knows he’ll have to put restrictions on you, to keep you safe, but until then he’ll enjoy this night of reprieve with you. The tent he sleeps in feels like a bed of nettles without you, and the way he’s comfortable laying on nothing more but this lush grass speaks volumes of that. He does not feel cold or irritated. Jiyan is at peace.

But he has to send you back, he tells himself, but not yet.. Tomorrow, or maybe the day after, until you forget about this conversation, and until the next cargo drop off comes in. Then, he’ll send you back.

“And we will be together, my love. You must be patient. You are my northern star in these dark nights, are you aware of that? The most precious person to me, one I hold within my heart itself.. I can’t afford to lose you..” he whispers to you as you watch him with pleading and loving eyes. You tip your chin up, brushing your nose against his and with that simple motion he is leaning in to grant your wordless wish, satiating your desire for closeness with a kiss to your lips.

The arm underneath your head stirs and he wraps it around his shoulders, bringing you in closer, flush against him, and you’re wrapping your arms around him and kissing him with fervor and unspoken love. Closer, closer, stay with me, don’t leave..

He holds you with such tender touches, holds you like you may fade away like sunlight before the long night, feather light touches tracing your cheeks and chin and moving towards the back of your head. He pulls away for a moment, his forehead pressing against yours as you both inhale the same air. “I love you” - it’s you who blurts it out before he gets the chance to do so, and his eyes widen with surprise. His heart drums in his chest, and he presses his lips to your again, in search of water to quell his worry, and for a forgiveness. Every note of love is interwoven in his actions, his touches and his kisses. Were the world any less cruel, it would have granted you two the eternity of this night, to forever be here and watch the skies in tranquility. 

Black night covers you both in a blanket of stardust and far galaxies, bringing you safety if only but this night alone, undisturbed by monsters or people. And as Jiyan pushes himself to his elbow to loom over you, chasing your lips, a lone star flies across the vast sky, flickering out and leaving behind a silver fading tail.

Maybe.. just maybe, the universe heard your wishes. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

I don't k know if your busy or not but is it alright with you doing a Jiyan x injured reader? Like one day reader got hurt and decide to not tell Jiyan but he soon found out?

Thank you for your time and have a great day/noon/night

Contents: Jiyan x GN!Reader, angst, ends on a better note, hope you enjoy this anon :)

Thundering drums fill his ears with their haunting echoes as he raced through the sea of moving soldiers. 

Strands of his hair were loose from its ponytail with more strands sticking to his sweaty forehead, small parts matted with mud and dust. His clothes weren't shown any more mercy, with parts cut here and there with blood speckled throughout. Yet, it wasn't his clothes and hair that were haunting, but his face. Pale and eyes wide, devoid of any emotion in particular and looking like two deep voids that threatened anyone they looked at.

Jiyan’s heart was echoing, drumming and beating, but he couldn't feel any of it with how cold his very blood felt - he could swear he was dead and this was hell.

He rushed through into the open corner of the base dedicated for treating the injured, his eyes jumping from one face to the other, searching.

His feet had a mind of their own as they walked past the injured and the unconscious, sparing them some looks and bathed words of reassurance, his tone so soft that, were he in a better mindset, he would've asked whether the other even heard him properly.

There!

His mind yells, jumping at the first sign of the familiar head of hair. It's you! His heart leaps further up until he can taste the metal wash over his tongue. Days have passed since he has seen you vanish off the battlefield and he had grown restless by the day, wishing he could deny the possibility that you could be gone forever. So when word reached him you were found injured and brought back to the medics, he was racing at first chance.

He is quick as the wind, running up to where you were laying, arms and torso all up in bandages, the smell of medicine and herbs so heavy in the air it made even his nose scrunch. “Y/n!” he calls to you when he sees your lashes fluttering, one sign you were awake, and your movement the second sign. You are alive, despite a little voice in his head telling him this is just a cruel illusion. His hand finds yours, fingers curling around it and holding it, closer to him, feeling your warmth before two fingers slide to the inside of your wrist out of pure instinct to feel your life pulse for himself.

“Ji..Jiyan?” 

“It is me, (Y/n).. Are you in pain, are you alright?” His mind is reeling with questions and all the ways to scold you but he can’t bring himself to be angry, he lost the capacity to be angry at you ages ago - he just feels scared, the empty abyss within him yawning for reassurance of your state and yearning to swallow you into its void where you couldn’t come to harm.

“I..I’m alright” On cue, your cough interrupts your response, making your chest jump and your torso attempts to pull itself up. Jiyan is quick and cautious as he helps you sit upward, rubbing your back up and down as your coughing fit subsides. “Have you eaten anything?” He asks as his eyes drink in the details of your face - pale skin, half lidded eyes, cracked lips and few scrapes littered across your exposed skin. You shake your head, barely able to tell what he was doing as he moved about you like a bumblebee, hopping from here to there and bringing a flask of water up to your lips and helping you drink. The water feels heavenly as it slides down your throat, quenching the feeling of an upcoming fever.

“Tell me what happened..” His voice is softer now, quieter as he wishes to keep some sense of privacy even in this open space, but it is no less worried and pent up with tension that squeezes him. His eyes are quick to meet yours when they look up at long last, looking at him and taking in his own disheveled appearance. 

Your lips open and close as you search your brain for adequate words, but it takes a moment for you to gather your thoughts. “My memory is muddy from the actual battle, but I remember you being ahead of me.. and I was dealing with a couple of TDs behind you.. I.. I bit off more than I could chew, and I led them far away from you and the others but there were... just too many.. I was surrounded- I did my best, Jiyan.. But I slipped somewhere along the way.. I don’t know what happened afterwards. I only woke up two days ago..”

“Why didn’t you send word for me?” he bites the inside of his cheek, stopping himself from sounding frustrated or accusing. Images of your retelling paint themselves vividly in his mind, and his heart aches and bleeds for you.

“I wanted to heal first..” you mutter with a small shrug, not knowing the true answer yourself, even as guilt and regret seeps into your heart. “I’m sorry..”

“It’s.. It’s alright.. you are here now” He sighs as his eyes flicker down to your wounds, and he then takes a look around. Jiyan’s heart is too weary to simply leave it at this, too frightened to just let you be after days of believing you were dead. He looks back to you, a bold hand cupping the side of your face and helping you look up at him. 

“I’ll go see if there are any free rooms inside the base where I can help you change these bandages, they are in a dire need of redressing.. Then I’ll get you something to eat, alright?”

You could cry at his words, his kindness and desperation to help you not escape your fuzzy brain, so you only nod, lips pressed into a firm line. He notices your eyes become watery and shock flickers over his visage, and faster than he could know he is already cupping your face with both hands. “Hey…” he whispers, worrying, filling his golden eyes that only sought to comfort you, not sadden you. Or were you in even more pain now? He feels a rush go through him, needing to get you somewhere where he can hold you.  “It’s alright.. I’m not mad at you, alright? Breathe..” he soothes your eyes that flutter shut when the pads of his thumb brushes over it. You nod again, swallowing your tears. 

“I’m okay..”

“You’ll be okay, my love.. just leave it all to me..”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Hello there! I hope your day has been going smoothly!

As your requests are currently open (I hope I read it right), may I request Platonic!Jiyan x Sibling!Reader Angst, where reader dies not because they are a midnight ranger, but because of a chronic disease they were diagnosed with?

Reader and Jiyan can be twins, or Jiyan can be the older brother. Up to you!

I hope you have a great day!

A/N: Not sure what to say other than that I love writing angst and that I hope you enjoy this anon, sorry for the wait :)

Contents: Familial Jiyan x Twin!Reader, GN pronouns, angst, short lol, character death

Death crawls through the midnight blue washed streets of the Jinzhou, its flaky claws seeking and scratching. And seek out their victim it did. Found in a cozy bed that reeked of illness and herbal medicine. Ashes of incense laid on top of a long wooden tray fashioned in the looks of a dragon.

There were more dragon motifs sprawled around, in the embroidery of the blankets, on the painting, on tea cups and jewelry, but not one of those could protect the one confined within the bed and the one forever gone. Pale skin glistened with the remnants of sweat and water they were bathed in, and their hair smelled of old flowers in summer heat, and it was only going to get worse should they remain here, hand held by the person closest to them.

Jiyan. The General. The Qingloong. The medic in his youth. Their brother.

He had returned from the front lines at long last for a short reprieve, only to find his beloved sibling in a worse state than last time. It horrified him even more than the sights he encountered in war, and it shook him to the core. What’s worse, he could smell death waiting at the front door, and entering behind his heel after he went into the bedroom..

His hands gingerly held onto their cold hand, knuckles pressed against his forehead as he remains quiet, foolishly hoping warmth would spring to their skin and they’d greet him with a ruffle to his hair and call him silly for worrying so much. He swallows thickly, cheeks wet from the trail his tears left behind and he breathes out a breath so heavy, one would question how the world didn’t cave in where he sat. 

“I love you…so much..” he whispers before lifting his head up, eyes fluttering shut to spare himself the sight of their forever slumbering face, his lips lingering on their knuckles in expression of love they’d never feel again.

They didn’t share just blood, they shared their childhood years, interests, and they shared their mother’s womb together. Their bond was one closer than any other, yet it was severed all the same as any other. 

“I miss you…”

Even with all the knowledge Jiyan could’ve plucked from Jinzhou and from the outside nations, all various medical practices and all kinds of healers, Jiyan couldn’t save them.

Maybe in another life he saves them, but in this one he gets to carry their memories until his own demise, forever haunted by their absence. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

"Soft little petals of light flicker across the darkening sky like little light bugs of the faraway cosmos. Lush grass kisses her nape and tickles her ears as she rests in this field, so far away and even further still. It allows for a brief moment of reprieve from the cacophony of this world that is not her own, the little bit of peace her heart desperately bled for continuously. From here she looks at the sky and the little lofty clouds sailing through it. It greatly reminds her of the sky she watched as a kid.

Memories of today flow through her mind, cuddling themselves up behind her eyelids along with countless others, ones that span from the day she was learning to walk. Prompted by a child she glimpsed today, taking their first step into their mother’s arms. 

Similar experiences bind themselves into a string that Jien feels like she can tie around her neck. The memories are real, and remain the only thing to anchor her to reality and the belief that she herself is still here. They urge her to eat breakfast in the mornings and they lick the tears from her eyes before she slumbers in the night. What would she be without these memories but a hollow bone?

For once more she finds herself wishing she could take the dirt road that leads to her home again. And in her mind’s eye she imagines herself doing so, remembering every pebble and blade of grass as she walks through the retelling of a time long gone. She walks up the rocky hill, feeling small, realizing  she is half the height she is now, making her heart jump with each step. And once she finally reaches the top and the front of the door, her little lungs gasping for spring air, she feels grown again, towering in the old doorway. The house is empty. Everything is the same way it was nearly two decades ago. There is no one waiting for her. Not people, not her pets, and the books hold no words but blank pages.

Jien opens her eyes, feeling a wetness bubble to her lash line, and she breathes a heavy sigh, tail swishing from one side to the other in the bed of grass she made, her shoulders slacking. 

She wants to just … be. She doesn’t want to continue, her heart screams for rest, oozing blood from every crevice in hopes she’d notice it and stop. But she moves forward, somewhere, prompted by the same heart to do so. It makes no sense. Why can’t she just sit here forever? Staring at the skies and waiting for stars, walking through endless woods and halls of her home?"

_

Tags: @starless-nightz

Hello there! I hope you’re doing good in terms of exams and remember to take breaks in between studying!!

I have a request but please feel free to leave it or skip over this one if you’re not up for it!

I was wondering if you could write how Jiyan and Aalto (separately) would react to soldier!reader who’s known to be always comforting others + helping people but in this situation finds the reader hidden somewhere and having a breakdown due to mental and physical exhaustion (but struggles to ask for help)?

A/N: Thank you anon, I try to keep that in mind at all times <3 And I hope you enjoy this!

Contents: angst to comfort fluff, panic attack, gn reader, not proof read

Jiyan:

Days have passed and what felt like years have built up in a tight ball that lodged itself in your throat, preventing the dusty, but much needed, air to fill your lungs. It has been days since it had begun to build up, but with hopes for a better tomorrow you swept it under the rug, letting it fester and multiply to each corner of your being until it had you shackled down onto the floor in this pitiful corner of ruins. The camp wasn’t too far off, you think through broken words flashing through your head, if they need me I’ll be able to hear them. Tears bubbled up to your eyes, stinging and burning. 

It’s been so long since you saw the city, smelled the flowers and felt the touch of your beloved, and nothing in the world could help you escape this feeling of the earth shattering under the soles of your feet. Your vision was blurry, mind spinning and lungs burning and burning. Rationale has long since left you, and you crumbled further, foolishly thinking of insignificant mistakes of your past.

Out of nowhere, a hand sprung up from the blurriness of the world, muddy waters of reflection caching color of teal and yellow and black as the hand grabs your shoulder. Fear engulfs you as you see General Jiyan standing in front of you, although your tears nearly blind you - you could never mistake the signature look of him. You could recognize him blind and deaf.

“J-Jiyan-” you choke, hiding your face away as ragged breaths wreck your body, the body that refused to stand up to greet him. You had no strength, no will. Your ears catch some muddled words and from the corner of your eyes you can see his mouth moving as he spoke, but none of them reach you. It’s hard. So hard to breathe and you’re shaking your head, wanting to ask for help but refusing to do so yet needing to be held.

This dilemma is written all over your face, your shaky fingers and Jiyan goes quiet, realizing the futility of questioning you, and instead he takes the matters in his own hands and sits beside you. His back pressed against the old, cold wall behind the two of you and one of his muscular arms finds its way around your shoulders, bringing you closer into him. Your body can’t resist, even if you wanted to, and it bends to his will, your arms reaching around him in some childish chase of comfort. If your mind was any more calm you would have felt embarrassed, ashamed.

Jiyan stays quiet for a while longer, simply holding you and lending you his company for as much as possible, hoping he or you aren’t called up. Just for a while longer, he says to himself. His hand rubbing up and down your back. As you slowly catch your breath and collect yourself he begins to speak, tone gentle and so full of warmth, he doesn’t want to let you go until you can stand on your own once more, and even then he’d be there to help you walk.

“Deep breaths, (Y/N)... It’s all right now, there’s no danger around us.. you’re safe..”

“You’ve been doing so much for others, yet you neglected yourself for even longer than that. You mustn’t do that…”

“I’m here to support you however I can, for now we can sit here for some time longer, until you’re sure you want to head out”

“Don’t rush yourself, and no need to be embarrassed. I find myself feeling the same as some times, but it is the thought of you that gets me through it all.. You’re human just like the rest of us. I’m here for you.."

Aalto:

What was supposed to be a simple run-in-and-out became much more complicated, the mission stretching on into the night and into the early mornings when the first lights pierced the belly of the sky. Your heart was ringing between your ears, drumming a haunting song that would have you exhausted for days to come. Had it been you alone, you would have considered turning back - no mission was worth losing your life over. But there were team members involved, all of them so close to you. How could you let them go alone, let them get hurt?

It doesn’t matter now. The mission was successful, yet you were still stuck in the memories from so many months ago? Get a hold of yourself - breathe.

Breathe.

I can’t - the little voice squeaks at the back of your head, full of tears and desperation as you walk home from duty. Your legs are barely carrying you up the steps that feel like a serpents winding body, one misstep and you’ll find yourself falling into its mouth. With a fuzzy mind you fight your way to the front door and fall in with stuttering steps, an invisible hand coming to grab you by the throat and choke you until you’re crumbling on the floor. The front door was left ajar for anyone to help themselves too, but that fact escaped you as you found yourself pressing into the foot of your couch, curled up and crying from exhaustion and the aching in your bones. All you can think of is how much more you could have done for them, how much you could’ve done for the mission. 

“(Y/N)? Hey-!” A voice calls from the void, scolding you, sharp and quick but echoing. It calls for you over and over again, and it is not until your body is being turned onto its back that you realize you’re not alone. “Are you alright? Hey, talk to me” The voice finally clears up. It’s not angry or annoyed, but so worried unlike your mind had made you believe. It’s not the voice of the captain but.. Aalto. 

Your eyes blink at him in quick successions, trying to rid themselves of tears while feeling more come up. His gloved hand is supporting the back of your head, the other one feeling your other arm up and down in attempts to comfort you. “Breathe.. breathe.. Come on, up to me, now” he says, gently pulling you up and despite his best attempts to make his tone more lighthearted, he fails miserably. Concern is evident, but he has way more reins on it.

He positions your forehead to rest against his shoulder, tugging your body closer until you are practically in his lap, his arms wrapped around you. “Breathe with me, come on.. in…..and out..” He coaches softly, rubbing your back and then carding his fingers through your hair, and as he feels you shift he lessens his hold - allowing you to slot yourself against him and wrap your arms around him in return. Slowly, Aalto begins to rock you back and forth, his tongue betraying him in this dire situation, so he hopes his presence is enough. After a while he tries to playfully scold you for this behavior, saying how you nearly had his heart stop when he saw you on the floor, but the undertones speak volumes of how seriously this affected him too.

“No, no, you’re not going anywhere yet. You need to take a breather - like I’ve been telling you to do so for months”

“Here, let me help you up. The couch is way more comfortable than the ground.. yeah- that’s it, good job, champ. You’re my champ, y’know?”

“How about I whip us something to drink, hm? You got nothing to worry about, I’ll have it all handled and ready before you can even think about it”

“Do you want to talk about it..? I know it all happened some time ago, but it is clearly holding you down. So tell me what’s on your mind, I’m all ears. You know I can help, in one way or another- but I need to..”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Hi! Could I request Jiyan, who didn't realise he was in love with his best friend!reader until he almost lost them. The moment he held them unconscious in his arms everything just clicked.

Angst with a happy ending, please.

A/n: sorry this took some time to write! I initially planned to write this as some short drabble/scenario but as you can see, things went out of control lol I do hope you enjoy this :) Also a small note - I initially wrote this with you/yours stuff, but I wanted to experiment this method, so I do apologize if there is some mistakes left here regarding that. Do tell me which one you guys prefer more? You/yours or they/them/she/her.

Contents: Jiyan x GN!Reader, they/them pronouns, blood and injuries, angst but turns to bittersweet at the end, fluff? They both live at the end so we can count it as a happy ending.

Words: 3867

'I can't do this without you'

Holding the weight of a body in his arms never felt heavier before. The gradual added weight on his heart and lungs kept getting heavier and heavier by the moment, he was sure it would make his ribs burst from the pressure. And he wouldn’t be surprised if the next time he looked down he saw his own heart beating outside his very body. (Y/n) was pale, bleeding and giving no response to any action he took. “Please..” His lips muttered, but to what extent his plea stretched out, no one could tell. 

His dragon came crashing through the waves of TDs like a storm, breaking apart their limbs and turning them to ash before he himself emerged from its glowing maw, jumping in front of (Y/n) with spear in hand. Jiyan’s face twisted in a fierce scowl, his sharp eyes hooded beneath his knit brows as he plunged into the remaining monsters that lurked around. But not even after he dealt with them did he achieve the quiet that usually followed a concluded battle. The buzzing in his ears did not stop. His heart beat still thundered between his ears, and the sound only multiplied once his golden eyes landed on the falling body of his dearest companion.

There was no time, he told himself, gathering all the courage and patience he found within himself, gathering them in his arms and fleeing from the charred fields as if fire was threatening to lick up his heel. The buzzing sound was deafening, so akin to silence yet it was everything but. He heard nothing else, but he heard it all. As he pushed his way past the soldiers at the front, eyes wide and staring into the void, trusting only his feet to find the path for him. He needs nothing else but to hurry and scold himself for not being able to go faster.

He carried them into the first medical tent his eyes landed on, the flap of the tent slapping out of place and before his form and before he could process the light slap the material did to his cheek, he was placing them down onto one rolled out mat in the corner. He saw the lips of the medical staff move, but no words reached his ears, and for all he knew he could’ve been barking or whispering at them to do something - to help them. He joined in the efforts, plucking out the gauze and the antiseptics from  the corners of the tent and gathering them next to the mat as one healer already began to cut away their dirty clothes to gain better access to the wound. 

The bare skin glistened with blood, the only shade of theirs that could make Jiyan feel sick to the stomach. Other healers in the tent looked at him in bewilderment as his breathing was yet to calm down, labored and ragged, but his hands held utmost care and precision as he started on the gauze, already keeping steps ahead and waiting until the healer next to him peeled the clothes away. Each layer unfolded like a wet petal, revealing the yawning gash underneath. Jiyan’s golden eyes turned a shade darker under the pressure and the light in the tent, turning a shade of olive instead, sick with worry. Were they gone already? He looks at their face, glimpsing their peaceful expression, dotted with splatters of blood and grime. They’re still bleeding, he notes as his fingers become slick with blood whilst he worked on their wound, there was still a beating heart inside of them, and that meant life. His mind spun prayers on repeat, prayers he thought he had long since forgotten the words of, favoring battle chants over putting his hope into something he couldn’t see or touch. How long till (Y/n) wakes?

Long time has passed until his mind has reeled back around to the present. He was alone now, aside from (Y/n), huddled on a small wooden chair in the opposite corner from which he could see them, patched up and under the light. His hands, once so calm and steady, had begun to shake as realization settled within him. How he could have so easily lost them, with so many words yet to be spoken, hurt more than any wound he sustained. Blood caked on his fingers, falling off into dust as he flexed them into a fist before releasing again. All the worry made him angry, and anger never suited him. It made him think badly, irrationally, and in the silence that followed the medical emergency of their state, all thoughts took root deep within his mind and soul, festering like a neglected cut. (Y/n) shouldn’t have been allowed on the front lines, he should have set them back, or even better - he should have misused his position and sent them home, risking to humiliate them for being sent home for seemingly nothing, other than his selfish need to keep them safe on all accounts. 

Sighing, Jiyan shuddered at his own mind’s skilled ways of wearing him down. It played out his image and character in ways he knew he’d never act. He’d never do those things, but in such a state as he was in, he nearly believed it all. Pressing his forehead into the clean heels of his palms he stared at his own boots until the silence became a soft comforting buzz. Sleep had tried to pull himself down his eyelids, but each time he refused it, eventually finding himself sitting at their side again, instead of the faraway corner. Long hours had passed, and Jiyan felt the camp go to bed with the night settling in the corners of the world. But he couldn’t, it would be a disservice to you if he left you alone, but his duty called - and he internally begged for forgiveness as he stepped out of the tent to check up on all the others, cleaning his hands while he was at it. 

There was blood on his hands.

And it was theirs.

And he’d never be able to wash it away, no matter how hard he scrubbed, or how many times he washed his hands. 

Morning came chill and misty, but Jiyan’s body felt none of it. The cold clung onto him like a second coat, greeting him like an old friend and embracing him as the same. He only hoped the cold did not embrace them too. The night was sleepless for Jiyan, and after he had ensured the safety of others and checked in with his Captains, he had found his way back to the medical tent he left (Y/n) in. 

“There’s a lot for me to say, my dear…friend..” Jiyan’s pale lips formed the last word hesitantly, treating it as an impostor instead of the usual warming endearment in which fashion he used it years ago. The word had long since become strange to him, yet he wished not to risk disrespecting them in this state, heavily considering the fact they may not even share in his sentiments.  “Yet you seem so eager to cut your life short.. “ he sneered lightly, not at them, but rather at himself, blame always within reach to be pulled towards himself by his very hand.

“What would  I do without you..? Who would I be without you?” The world around him seemed to quiet down in silent sympathy.  “You mean so much more than you believe, more than you know.. I’ve wished to tell you, but all you force me to do is scold you and weep over you like some child… like when we were kids…” 

A twitch, and then the fingers of (Y/n)’s hand grasped into a fist, making his eyes widen at the sight he barely glimpsed with his head hanging low, staring at the ground. His golden eyes snapped to their face, seeing the corners of their lips curl downward into a pain filled scowl. 

“(Y/n)!-” he beamed with all the softness his surprise would allow him as he kneeled beside them in one swift swoop. His hand came over their eyes to shield it from the light once he saw how their nose scrunched and brows knit together. Relief filled their eyes as the intrusive light no longer tried to pry them open so cruelly. Dizziness was still huge, feeling as if it split their blood apart, making it as light as clouds, and making them float on top of the mat. 

“What’re you.. rambling about…?” (Y/n) muttered, throat dry and voice coarse and wincing, their face once more ended up in a painful twist. Jiyan didn’t need all his medical knowledge to see they were still out of it, his frown deepening, but his heart raced up to climb into his throat. 

“I was saying how reckless you can be..” he whispered, blinking away the nervousness from his eyes. His other hand hovered over them, refusing to touch them in fear of hurting them. But his eyes drank in everything, looking for any anomalies that he may have not noticed before, although the chance he missed something was astronomically low with how keenly his eyes kept vigil over you throughout the night.  “Are you in pain? Tell me, I’ll help make it better” he told them, shuffling as he loomed over their body. 

(Y/n)’s eyes still refused to open after they fluttered shut, their throat bobbing, but swallowing nothing with how parched it felt. “Water..” They croaked, and suddenly light was kissing their eyelids again as Jiyan moved away in haste to fetch a bottle of water. 

He returned as quickly as he left, swift as the wind and helping them drink with one hand stabilizing their head and the other holding the bottle to their chapped lips, watching them carefully as they languidly took sips to drink. The gloved iron claw on his finger faintly scratched against their scalp, tangled between their hairs. Letting out a small sigh, thirst finally quenched, they finally opened their eyes to see just how disheveled and worried Jiyan looked. 

“Jiyan..” (Y/n) called him, watching as his face both hardened and mellowed at the drop of his name in that worn out tone. Their face looked confused to see him like this, not that they ever doubted he’d worry if they got injured, but the tension within this space felt like a maw of a beast, ready to snap its jaws shut. Something was amiss, something they couldn’t quite place.  The aching throb in their side didn’t subside, but they were able to somewhat ignore it for now, worry poisoning them into thinking of the worst - whatever could be worse than their own life nearly being taken away. The question remained unsaid, but it appeared as if Jiyan didn’t need the verbal communication to respond. 

“Nothing- don’t worry about it.. Please, lay down and tell me how you feel” He urged as he placed his palm onto their sweaty forehead, pushing it back onto the small pillow below. (Y/n) blinked, confused and scared and exhausted as he pawed gently at their skin, only pulling away after he ensured there was no rising heat. 

“I’m.. aching.. that’s all.. and sore all over”

“I believe that to be an understatement, this isn’t some small scratch.. You nearly..” Jiyan looks at the bandages, splotches of red already having bloomed through like little poppies in a faraway field. “I’ll get you something for the pain now… Don’t move.” It was a command, that last part, and left no room for any question or rebuttal as he lifted himself away, painfully severing the moment in favor of searching the place for painkillers and herbs. If there was a way to remain glued to their side and heal them in that way, he wouldn’t have ever left, and that option would have done his heart many favors.

“When will you start listening to orders?” he asked as he walked back to the mat, his hand grasping the gorge shaped pill box his mother gave him, his tone now heralding the lesson he was about to drop on them. His eyes refused to meet theirs as he crouched down again, popping the lid of the gorge open and letting two pills fall into his open palm. 

“Whenever you... decide to be less dense..” (Y/n) responded with a small cough that rippled the pain from their wound, and wincing they forced themselves to stay still. He did not take sweetly to the jest, his eyes focusing on them like a target, a beloved one at that.

“You should have called out.. I was there, I could have helped you out. You didn’t need to get hurt, and all because of your faulty sense of independence” Jiyan kept going, urgency for them to understand his side coloring his voice. He helped them sit slowly, apologizing for making them move in a husky and quiet tone, apologizing for making them sit and be here and be in pain, swallowing the big tasteless pills. 

Keeping their silence, (Y/n) looks down, guilt seeping through their veins and weary body which seemed to know no rest now. 

Sore and worried and dizzy and ever forgetful in this half slumbering state they could only grasp at the thin strings of consciousness as Jiyan loomed over them like a hawk, restless in his pursuit to help, yet he remained in the dark as to how else to do so. What else could he do except think of healing magic he had no possession of. His teeth grinded together, golden eyes flickering over them and then up to their face, meeting their bleary gaze.

“I’m sorry…”

(Y/n) whispered, one hand over their chest as they took breaths in, slow and weak, but good - they were not the shallow breaths you took when he was racing back to the medics and other healers with them in his arms. This was better.

Jiyan’s heart stuttered at the low tone that broke under the pressure he had placed upon them, unwilling yet it was no less necessary if he wished to have them understand. Too many times he had sat down with them, told them to be careful, to follow protocol and all the talked about strategies, to value the teammates at their sides, yet it all seemed for naught. What did those conversations mean, they could not heal you now and make you whole again. 

A shaky sigh drops from Jiyan, pulling all the weight from his shoulders and making him sag in his spot, head hanging low and heavy. What was he supposed to say?  He had words too many to share.

“It’s… fine.. What’s done is done, and we can’t change what happened.. It’s alright..”

“You’re mad at me..”

Of course he is. Grief has never bitten him so hard as in the moment he saw them stagger in the field, it made his stomach churn and his sides tickle as if wind passed through the hollows between his ribs. And he grieved as if he lost them while patching you up, so much so it poisoned him and made him mad, angry. 

“I.. I am not mad at you.. ” ‘I love you, why can’t you see?’ - a part of him wanted to say.

Blinking at him, tears bubbled up to their lash line, listening to him huff, unknowing of the inner turmoil he struggled through, the answer to close yet so far, holding you in suspense. Like a word about to be spoken.

“Why can’t you just listen to orders.. You throw yourself into danger as if you have lives to spare” Jiyan began, finding their eyes in a stern glare which mellowed out quickly. “You are not valued only as a soldier to be thrown across the board but as a human, someone’s companion.. (Y/n)..”

There’s a plea in his tone, and another in his eyes, and his fingers itch with the need to hold onto them, to let the venom of his grief seep into them too, to make them see, understand. It’s like a beast he’s hardly keeping at bay. When was the last time he felt so strongly about someone? Anyone? And to the point he’s shedding his general persona to give way to a man desperate to keep the few people he holds dear alive. Jiyan couldn’t name anyone.

“I understand that, but Jiyan.. how many nights have we spent talking about the day of peace? When there’s going to be no wars to fight? I know-” A cough interrupts them, but Jiyan does not jump at that opportunity to cut them off and scold them - he waits. “..I know it’s a childish dream, a hope, but peace is achievable. And if it means getting battered and bruised and hurt along the way, then so be it  - the road to peace is not paved in a bed of flowers..” (Y/n) frowns, nearly pouting, and in some absentminded state, their hand flails in the air in search of his, a purchase he gladly grants without a thought. 

Shaky fingers curl around his gloved ones, a tinge smaller, and more fragile than his own with the state now. They lack the grip they usually possess, yet they grasp and hold and he holds back, squeezing a bit tighter. God knows, he shares their view, their childish hope, but he can’t agree with it, not now.  “(Y/n).. Peace will mean little if you’re dead to see it..” It’s a whisper, as fragile as the wings of a hatchling, and as soft as the summer breeze. 

“That all will mean nothing to me either, it won’t be peace if you’re not with me to see it..” he added, his other hand grasping over their own, thumbing at their soft skin. He swallows thickly, hoping to wish away the tears that threaten to come up to his eyes.  “I lo-... I love …you…” 

Realization is slow to settle, but he sees it in their face, their eyes that fail to blink as they take him in, deciphering his words one by one, failing, at first, to understand their weight from the usual affections they shared before. Parting their lips, they fail to respond, their eyes flickering to the surroundings before they return to him, and it was as if all air had been knocked out of their lungs.  The meaning is written all over him, communicated through all ways but verbal and it was enough. They were children together, growing up and exploring the world, plucking strange berries from nature and sharing them together, they grew up together.

Now they are grown, and (Y/n) focuses on the thought that has appeared in their mind countless times before - growing old together. It was just out of reach, and it was not guaranteed and their actions on the battlefield nearly made it certain that the future would not embrace them together. Trying to blink the tears away, they look at Jiyan, apologetic and ashamed, but where they wished to seek forgiveness was unneeded, as Jiyan had already forgiven it, no matter the hurt. 

“I love you too-” The words were accompanied by a stray tear wetting their cheek. 

Hushed breaths and shuffling of clothes flutter, and in a blur, Jiyan had pulled himself ever closer, sitting at their side and ever so carefully drawing them to his chest. His movements are slow and calculated even in the face of such strong emotion, too fearful to hurt them. 

He lets them rest their face into the crook of his neck, eyes fluttering closed as they both simply hold onto one another, and it was in that moment he felt them squeeze him back, full of blooming life and energy. His fingertips itched for a stronger embrace but he controlled himself. 

“I love you..” he repeated, even more quiet and directly beside their ear. “Please.. listen to me.. I only wish to keep you safe.. alive most of all.. Understand me..” They nod their head against him, their fingers clawing at his back with a little more strength, holding on as if he was a ghost ready to vanish.  “You’re my candlelight leading me through the darkness.. I can’t do it without you..”

“Oh, Jiyan..” They crack their voice over his name, eyes seeing a mosaic of colors through tears ready to be shed. “I only wish to help you.. Under all this armor and uniform, I can see you struggling too.. How can I not become a little desperate when I see all my other attempts to help you have failed?” They sigh, their breath tickling the skin underneath this chin and he shudders to think of this mutual tug-of-war. They can’t win, neither can. 

“You leave my struggles to me.. I do not withhold them for no reason, but I see that has done me, us, more harm than good..” He says but fails to make another sentence, knowing he’d rather not burden them with his own worries, and he’d much rather hear of their own. 

“Just.. promise me this” he begins, pulling away and making them face to face. “You will not jump to take any more blows for me, in no amounts at all. I’m the one that should guard you, and not the other way around” He is firm in his case, and even if (Y/n) had the strength to argue, they wouldn’t. This was final.

Closing your eyes and giving a little bow of their head, they profess their agreement to his words without a word of their own. And sinking back into his embrace felt like sinking into a bed of feathers, soft, warm and welcoming. “Fine..”

“We’ll talk more about this once you’ve healed..” Jiyan muttered, his lips ghosting their brow and feeling them nod against him again. His hand rubs up and down their back, and his lips land on their cheek, lingering there in a gentle expression of his love that knew no bounds.

The flickering light and the sudden silence made his mind wander, and his body began to rock back and forth slowly, hoping to ease you into slumber. He wondered how it would feel to hold them again, when they were healed and not even a scar remained of their injury; how it would feel to kiss their brow and hold their cheek in his palm, to see those lights stare back at him from within their eyes, full of mirth and devoid of pain; he thinks how comforting it would feel to feel you flush against him each morning, holding your warm body close and tucking them under the covers when they shift in their sleep… So many images run through his mind, and he prays he gets to see them materialize in reality. 

For now he was fine with holding them, serving their needs until war reeled its ugly head again, and he had to leave once more. For his people and (Y/n) he’d grow great miles to achieve peace, even if it meant losing his own peace. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

✧ ˚ ·After the war..

A/n: meow

Contents: angst, fem reader, character death, inspired by the poem included here from the 1939, have fun reading

Words: 552

Your hands shake around the yellowed and hardened paper, previously dry spots being marked by the wetness of your tears now. Not even hearing your own cries, your mind can only focus on the swimming letters that bubble up to your lash line and over your eyes, taunting you like giants and beasts your beloved used to tell you about. 

Faded lights fall in broken leaflets through the window as the sun outside kisses the surroundings mountains, the glass itself broken at the edge.

‘When the war is over,’.. you read again, fighting the urge to choke as you manage to catch each letter from the corners of your tears so you can put them back together, drinking in the familiar handwriting like it is the finest liquor. If you could, you would drink away whatever remained of your life with the contents of this letter, if only you could, but you can’t, and you make yourself read the following words..

‘we’ll get married and the earth will grow flowers like you’, the next line reads, the ink heavy in a few spots and you can imagine Jiyan sitting at some dirty, broken camp, writing the letter with an old quill that spills ink rather than write with it. He is surrounded by huddled men that trust him, that keep following him even if it means following him to the ends of the planet to eradicate this enemy that threatens them all. The smell is heavy from the campfire, and the coals are a roaring red and orange, sending blazes of flames licking up at the midnight sky. He can vividly see the pots of flowers sprouting just outside your window. And suddenly the mere thought of you, your smiling face, feels like a bed of thorns and nettles that he needs to lay in. And the quill in his hand presses harder, making the lines thicker, and he curses his own hand.

‘and your womb will carry the most beautiful girls in the universe.’ 

White hot agony fills you, and for a moment you can swear it is all anger within you trying to claw its way out, yet nothing comes out of you but sobs that wreck your entire body and have you clawing at the sofa in front of you. The cover is a dark teal, you feel cursed for simply touching the color now. Why, why, why, why, why him, why now? Has he been reckless? Has he forgotten the promise?

The edges of the paper are dotted with dark red splotches, and a few dry petals had fallen from the letter when you opened it. This had been found in the pocket on his chest, right over his heart where he thought he would be able to keep you closest to him. None of it mattered now; you clamp a hand over your mouth, your throat hurting raw from how long you spent on the floor like a wilting flower in a storm, your roots not strong enough to help you endure it as they once were.

You curse the world, you curse the tacet discords, you curse the ranger that brought you this letter, and you curse Jiyan for departing, you curse him for not taking you with him.

The world will never feel alive again. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Hiya

Please can I request some hurt/comfort with Kaveh, like maybe the reader gets injured. Also I saw on one of your posts a couple months ago you weren't secure with writing him, so if you still aren't I would mind Alhaitham or Ayato <3

A/n: Hello, I'm not sure where I was going with this honestly, I haven't written for Kaveh in what feels like a decade so I hope I didn't butcher him. However, I admittedly rushed a bit so I can get back to you with it and I do hope I was able to provide some comfort to you with this. Hope you enjoy🌙

Contents: Kaveh x reader, gn, hurt angst to fluff, sensitive reader? Imo... Drabble wordvomit

“Where have you been?! Do you know how worried I was about you-” the loudness his tone reached pulled the octaves of his voice higher, unlike the sweet lilt he usually addresses you with. Turning your head sharply to look at him through the thin veil of the dark night, your tear stained cheeks stun him for a good moment, making him choke back words and audibly he stutters and sputters as his eyes widen further. His eyes flicker over your face, across your features until he follows the bend of your arms that hold your leg and foot, both hastily wrapped in bandages - if the situation wasn't as dire as it was Kaveh would've scoffed and made fun of it. 

“Where were you-” he asks again, his voice swimming in fear as a chill runs up his spine despite the scalding desert air. More than one question is squeezed into those three words as he rushes over to kneel beside you. Cautious, airy hands hover over the ankle and the shin of your leg, but he refuses to touch you, as if you break from the simplest of touches. He looks up into your eyes again, silently pleading for a response to all the questions brewing in his mind. “What happened to you? Were you attacked? W-When did this happen? Do you not know how long I've been looking for you?!-”

Mehrak swoops into the sands, releasing a little sound that was both alarm and curiosity, the blinking green dots for eyes angled in your direction. Soft little beeps come from the suitcase looking machinery, yet you have little strength to pay any attention to it. 

“I-I’m fine..! I just sprained my ankle really badly while I was looking for you and.. I couldn’t walk properly, I thought I wouldn’t be able to make it back” you explain, a breath of ease filling your lungs as you paw at your eyes with your hands to dry your tears, fear still grasping your bones with chilly hands. Not only were you dazed from the scorching sun, but now the cooling night air was slowly creeping up, already heralding a fever in your fatigued muscles. “I didn’t even know which direction to go in, everything looks the same around here” adding that, Kaveh holds his breath as he carefully takes your shin in hand to lift it from the ground, his other hand holding your foot to take a better look at it. He could smell the fear on you and he couldn’t blame you one bit for feeling so scared, he had his moments too where he thought he was lost to the dunes. But not a moment has passed before he was already gritting his teeth, saying “I shouldn’t have agreed to bring you this far out.. ugh, and to even leave you alone.. Why did you go after me? I told you to stay in the shade, I wasn't going to be away for so long and..” he sighs, nearly wincing as he trails off. 

He’s grumbling, taking the whole weight of the blame on his shoulders, again, his brows knitting together, angling in sadness as his chin lightly tips down so he could look at your foot, gently probing the skin. 

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have been so stubborn to leave the camp.. Had I gone any further out..” you trail off, dreading to think what could have happened. 

Kaveh goes to open his mouth and say something, ready to scold you and lecture you all about how Eremites could have found you, mercenaries, scorpions, and how all of it could have impact him if all he found of you was pieces hanging between a vulture’s beak. He shivers and closes his mouth, remembering the fear and glistening tears on your eyes, tears of frustration and fear and fatigue no doubt. 

Keep quiet, Kaveh, he scolds himself instead. 

“But you did not, and that is good.. that is a relief.. Would you like to try and stand, with my help of course. We still need to get back to camp” his voice mellows out towards the end, and he lets go of your ankle when you wince at one particular touch from his fingers. He lowers it to the sand slowly and turns to look at you, his elbow resting on his knee.

“No..no..I tried. But… Let me try again” you persist, suddenly feeling a wash of determination to ease his worry or perhaps prove to yourself that what you've done isn't as stupid as it was. Kaveh looks at you, unsure but he doesn't go against it as you're already grasping on his shoulder and trying to lift yourself up.

His hands fly to your waist, stabilizing you when you stumble, bringing you closer to his side so you have something to hold on to. But it all came crashing down when you accidentally went to step on your injured foot, sending a shock of pain up your body. Kaveh sighs, frustrated at the situation, and he is swift to lower you back to the ground. “You can't walk with a foot like that..” he says through his teeth, his heart constructing painfully at your own pain. For what seems like the nth time, he sighs and his arms swoop underneath you. “Hang on to me.. let's try this. One, two and- three” he tells you, and waits until you're clinging onto him before he lifts you up in his embrace. 

His arm is underneath your knees and the other supports your back, and now that you're closer to him you can feel the shaky breaths he's pulling into his lungs. He's refusing to look at you now as he begins to tread through the moving sand underfoot. 

“Kaveh…” you whisper as you look at him, greeted by the side of his face. The fine sheen of sweat is visible in the dying daylights, and his hair is a complete mess, and you can feel grains of sand throughout his scarves and clothing.  “Are you… alright?”

“I am alright.. just..” he looks to the side for a moment, his eyelids falling heavy over his dark colored eyes. “I was just really worried about you..” he confessed, as if it was hard to tell. Were it any sort of other situation, you would've teased and cackled at him, but you can feel his tense muscles begging to feel you, and you're sure he'll begin trembling at any moment.

“Oh, Kaveh…” you coo gently, creeping onto his shoulder like a shy doe, apologetic and sad. “I'm sorry.. I really am. I am fine now, okay? It's just a sprained ankle, it happened before, and this surely isn't the last time I'll sprain it”

Kaveh steals a glance at you, his eyes flickering over your face before he turns his gaze forward again, watching how Mehrak floated ahead to light the way in green and pale lime hues.  “It's alright..  I'm just glad to have found you, and that the injury wasn't any worse. But I hope you know I will not forget this, ever” his tone gains a part of its natural flare and passion, still wishing to scold you as if that would teach you a lesson and make you forget how to get hurt.

“I promise to be more careful, okay? Will that soothe you any better?” You lean the side of your head on his shoulder, feeling the tension slowly melting from his shoulders.

“Yeah, right. That's what you said last time as well, and look where that got you”

“Last time there was an accident, that guy pushed me!”

“Oh, spare me- and this wasn't an accident?-”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

- Yonderly

Contents: OC(Jien YueXia, Kaiya), Kaiya POV, angst, sensitive subjects (implied suicidal thoughts).

“It’s something I found runs in the blood...”

“Hm? What, so it's something like Mara?” The man asked as he paced back to the table located in the middle of the spaceship main-room, which was otherwise empty. The latest expedition has been a success and they were still in the process of loading their stuff back onto the ship. There was a bit of dust in the corners and near the faucet where they’d pour water to make their tea and coffee and the edges of the high shelves. The horned woman at the table had her back turned to him, but Kaiya could smell the light earthy aroma of coffee wafting from her cup. He fails to remember how this topic was brought on to begin with, but the conversation stumbled dangerously close to private matters - he felt as if he was walking on eggshells even if he knew his supervisor wouldn’t chop his head off or get angry with him if he showed curiosity.

A sigh deflated her shoulders, he saw as he found his way back to his seat with his own cup in hand, his full of water. “Mara would’ve been much kinder to me…” she replied as she focused on the edges of where coffee kissed her cup, the little bubbles slowly disappearing as the drink cooled down. His brows rose at her response, a deep slithering form taking hold around his lungs, but he spoke not, feeling there was more to unearth from this thought.

The silence stretched on for a moment more, a heartbeat or two, before Jien began to trace her cup with her fingertip, going around the handle and back up, then around the rim and down to the bottom. “I often think about how it would be to be struck by Mara. Painful to be sure, but also forgetful once the sickness fully takes hold of you, no? Looking at those two three days ago, the mara-struck couple, I found myself wishing to take their place, as long as I wasn’t me anymore, or as long as I forget it” she told him in a tone barely above a whisper, not trusting her voice to carry the true meaning of her tone, to carry it without breaking.  Kaiya was surprised, to say the least, looking at her as cold blood ran through his veins. His supervisor was a strict woman, ruthless at times, but not cold-hearted, she was still made of flesh and bone, but the fact he never saw or heard her be so human felt distressing in its own light.

“Mara is not something gentle, nor forgiving. That couple- well, they were a couple.. they probably didn’t even know that anymore. They were in a cycle of endless agony and at their stage they were driven by pure instincts and fear” Kaiya told her, as if she didn’t know this already, but perhaps hearing it again would get to her. The two that were mara struck were a runaway couple from Xianzhou; Jien mentioned how she had met them briefly and observed them as they ran from their families that were against their love. Considering the two were nothing but shells of their former selves, posing a danger to the nearby city, Jien had taken it upon herself to deal with them. 

Yet there was something oddly romantic about the encounter, Kaiya noted, remembering how the two seemed to gravitate towards one another, standing and stumbling before the other as if to shield the one behind them, whom they loved so dearly that the feeling transcended beyond the agony of Mara. Kaiya wondered if Jien perhaps longed for that, the connection the two shared. He knew how painful the feeling could be, as he felt it himself before he met his wife.

“I know. But I’d forget” Jien said plainly, pointing out that aspect once more, her dark eyes of amber holding a haunting shade behind them. “I wouldn’t have to wonder, or think, I’d just be. And perhaps someone so kind as to put me out of this pain which you describe would stumble upon me one day.. perhaps that would be you” she added, even quieter than before, and for the first time she glanced over at him over the rim of her glasses. She gave him the saddest smile he had ever seen. 

“You know I wouldn’t stand a chance against you, in any form” he tried to smile and lighten the mood, and she only shook her head, shrugging his attempt off and looking down at her coffee. 

Her lips parted and she inhaled a shaky breath and then exhaled, her bangs hiding her eyes away from his view. 

“..Ma’am.. if I may speak freely..” Kaiya began, tried to anyway, as he was lost on what to say; he knew he wouldn’t leave her after she revealed a glimpse of herself to him, but what could he say to comfort her when this glimpse alone was hardly enough for him to understand her was a Rubik's cube on its own.

“You may. When have I ever denied you or forbidden you to speak truthfully to me?” Jien asks, at long last lifting the cup with one hand and taking a long sip of the coffee. Her tail hung limply from the chair she sat on, her whole body in some form of stasis when she wasn't drinking or tracing the porcelain before her.

“You.. You have friends among us, you know? First and foremost, myself, and we’d be more than happy to listen to you talk about whatever issue you’re facing. If anything, we’d also be happy to see you open yourself up. Opening yourself to others doesn’t mean you’ll be wounded..” He tried, but perhaps he failed - he couldn’t tell, as Jien offered little reaction that he could observe. 

“Thank you..” was all she said. Was she disappointed? “I am here for all of you as well, should you need anything..”

“As if that wasn’t established already? Miss YueXia, you know more about my family than I know about our next expedition. Oftentimes I wonder if I overstepped the boundary between work and privacy, truly” he said and took an anxious sip of his water, cold and crisp sliding down his throat.

Jien smiled at that. “Well that’s not so bad. Had you revealed anything too private I would have told you to zip it, y’know, and besides I'm not the like to use the information for something ill. I like hearing about things outside of work, from people that work with me”

Kaiya licked his lips, tasting the coolness left behind on them. “And what of you? You have a life outside of work too, no?”.

She huffed a wry chuckle “I do.. but it’s not nearly as exciting as you might like or expect”.

“Well, I’d like to hear it. Or at least be privy to what goes on in that clever mind of yours. You say how you’re no different than us, but all you do and say points to something different - not to toot your horn or anything. You can show us you're like us by indulging us in a tale or two..” he took another sip, treating his cup like a cup of fine liquor. 

Jien’s dormant tail gave a quick flick before settling again, going back to sleep. She fell quiet, her eyes flickering over the table in desperation to look at something, find something that wasn’t there. 

“Kaiya”

“Yes?” His head tilted in her direction at his side, hearing her say his voice felt like a plea guised as a command, and he wasn’t the one to go against her orders. 

“Should I ever show any signs of.. hostility or delusion, or anything of that like, point it out to me, will you? Whether that be any form of unwarranted rudeness or the intention to, goodness forbid, hurt someone - if you see even the smallest drop of malice in me, I wish for you to tell it to me. I give you full right to scold me for it if need be, reprimand me” Jien spoke, now looking at him, her eyes locked onto his, ensuring he felt the weight of her words.

“Miss…?” He wasn't sure how to take her words, and it felt surreal to get such an order. It felt like sand slipping between his fingers, and the sea is lapping it away before he can grab it again.

“...Lately I’ve felt this sick blood run hot within me.. I felt it ebb and flow and I wanted to be violent. I don’t want to be. So, please, accept the command I’ve given you” she's looking at him still, waiting for his response, and no matter how deep he looked into her eyes, the darkness stared back at him, deep as the sea and perhaps even sadder than that.

“..... Yes, ma’am..” 

He prayed such an occasion wouldn't ever come to reality.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Hello! If requests are open, I would love yo request something

Would you be willing to write about Ratio comforting his s/o who's mental health is not the greatest (by which I mean awful)

Head canons, a little drabble, whatever you're most comfortable with

- 🦐

Contents: Dr. Ratio x GN reader, angst, turns to fluff, overworked and stressed reader, depression. Hope you enjoy this shrimp anon!<3

Words: 2275

Rises of the moon

‘I will not come in today, I’m sorry. I am still not well enough for work, but hopefully tomorrow I will be.’ 

You stared at the message yet to be sent, the phone feeling like a brick instead with the weight of it pulling you down into the ground and into the abyss. Talking was exhausting, yet sending the message seemed like an even more arduous task to complete. Your reputation waited, and you’d throw it away simply because you couldn’t type out a sentence good enough to send, a sentence that could save you some questioning and some dignity? 

Like a trap door your mind opened beneath you, your worst critic and the source of the distress. You felt like you were falling endlessly and hitting rock bottom all at once, making days and hours converge together until nothing but dust blinded you alongside your tears. 

‘I will not come in today. I am still not well enough for work, hopefully tomorrow I will be.’

The letters stared back at you.

‘Good morning, I will not be coming in this morning either, my health is not yet improved for the work environment. With kind regards- (Y/n)(L/n)’

Send, just send it, send. 

Before you can look at the message once more your hand grips the phone hard enough to press into the button at the side, making the screen go dark and after that you don't try to turn it on. Instead, you curled up on your side, your bed feeling like spare traces of comfort you could still grasp on with your phone getting lost amidst the blankets and pillows you hoarded up around you. Sleep had evaded you this night as well, overtaken by more important tasks of weeping over imperfect papers and reports. It’s been three days, today is the fourth. How much longer will they take that sorry excuse before they bring your integrity into question? You didn’t want to know.

Tomorrow, you told yourself. Tomorrow will be better (I’ll pretend).

After what felt like hours of laying in your bed, hoping to outlive the rumbling of your stomach, you finally dragged yourself out and roamed your home for some more, glancing at the trash can full of crumpled papers and the broken glass cup you accidentally pushed off the table the night before. Opening your fridge you could only relish in the cold breeze that licked up your neck and face, but the food held within looked no more appetizing than the night before. You stood there for a while longer, waiting if suddenly, by some chance, you may get a craving for a slice of cheese or perhaps a pepper instead.

Around half an hour later your ears were grated by the sudden ring of the bell, which snapped you out of whatever damp thought you had at the time. You weren’t expecting anyone - matter of fact, you told your close ones you needed space and time to heal from the ‘fever’ you told them about. 

Yet when your heavy feet delivered you to the door, you couldn’t say you were surprised by who was behind them. Greeted by the sight of damp purple hair and coral eyes, heavy with intent to get dry, you could only clear your throat before Veritas spoke up for you.

“I got your messages this morning. Quite late to send such notices for work, wouldn’t you say?”

“..What?” you blinked owlishly at him, completely lost for words. 

“Hm, what? You sent me messages you were feeling unwell, multiple of the same as well.. I thought it would do us both well to check in on you” Veritas stood looking down at you, letting all the cool air in as you remained glued to the door like a statue, heavy lidded eyes and ears struggling to process what he had said. You were sending the messages to your boss - but in your anguished stupor you have sent them all to him instead. The malicious feeling came back underneath your ribs and stabbed right up, and you could see Veritas’ eyes widen upon seeing your face morph into a frown-pout. 

“Here, let me in, will you? You don’t want to get even more sick, or get me sick as well?” he tried to urge as gently as he could, walking in when you stepped aside and putting down a grocery bag for just enough that it took him to take off his shoes. His umbrella was put in the corner, sopping wet and letting you know it was still raining. You stood stiff in the hall, shoulders wanting to push up to your cheeks while your hands crossed at the wrists down in front of you. You sighed quietly, watching him as he straightened up, looking over at you.

With a step he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching up already as he said “Come here..” and his palm pushed gently against your forehead. His touch was warm, and from how close he stood you could smell the damp smell of rain and autumn leaves. It was refreshing.

It was a quiet moment as he assessed you in the entry hallway. “Doesn’t appear you have a heightened temperature at all, but we’ll confirm that in a bit with a thermometer, just to be sure. Hmm.. you do look pale though. Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Not yet, I was just about to make something” You smoothly lied, not wishing to bring more shame by allowing him to look sad or worried or angry at you if you told the truth.

“Good. I’ll make you something. Now, don’t just stand in the hallway, come inside. You act more of a guest in your home than I do..” he motioned with his hand while taking a step to the side to let you through, urging you to come by, and when you did his hand found its spot at your lower back as if to guide you in. He hummed something softly in his throat, no certain melody but it was a small sign of his focus, and perhaps the liberty he found in your home. “Would you like to sit down here, or be with me in the kitchen?” he asked and you can’t help but gawk a little with the way he addressed you so gently, warmly, all while you felt slimy and ready to crawl out of your skin.

“With you, I’d like to be with you in the kitchen”

He nodded, his eyes mellowing further as he motioned for you to come with him, his grocery bag rustling as he lifted it up to set it on the counter. You slipped into a high chair at the kitchen island, watching as he pulled out a whole chicken, celery, onions and carrots. In his orderly fashion he sorted them out in a line before him, and by now he was quite familiar with the placements of things within your home and had no trouble finding the plates, the cutting boards and the rest of the ingredients. He washed his hands before handling the ingredients directly. 

“Can I do something to help?” you muttered after the lump in your throat felt so huge, nearly about to pop out of your mouth. Sitting idle did more harm than good, it showed in your shoulders and eyes. Veritas looked your way and shook his head, coming a bit closer until he could lean down and plant his lips to your forehead warmly, letting his lips linger a moment longer. 

“You can sit there and relax, I got this” he told you in a softened tone, going back to his cutting board. 

Veritas was no fool, he never  was, and especially not with you. He knew this was no fever, even if he did end up making you stay still as he handed you the thermometer to check again after he let the chicken cook in a pot along with the vegetables and herbs, standing next to you until that fateful beep sounded over the simmering and bubbling water.  No fever.

While the chicken was cooking, making the smell waft in the air in delicious waves, Veritas opened you up to conservation, small talk mostly until you relaxed further, distracted by the endless flow of words. He told you about what happened in the time of your absence, and what he has been up to with the Guild and what shenanigans his student did too. The last topic got a giggle out of you, and Veritas seemed to glow at the sound. He smiled too, along with you.

Hunger seemed more natural and welcome now as a bit more life returned to your joints and you rose from your seat to pace around the kitchen, still tired but more.. alive, just that - alive. Alive and comfortable. You would occasionally glance into the pot, narrowly missing the gust of steam that jumped up from the pot. 

“Should be done about now.. let me see... hmm” Veritas nudged against you over the stove, wearing kitchen mittens and removing the pot off the heat, and you promptly turned it off  and watched what he did. 

Veritas had made this recipe once before, when you really did have a fever. ‘Healing chicken vegetable soup’ - he said it was called, a recipe he seemed to recall from younger years of his childhood. You wanted to learn to make it and try to make it, but it would seem he never got sick or that he let you do it. This dish was his in truth. 

What came of his meticulous work was a delicious plate of soup with cut chicken meat, not a bone in sight. It was soft on the throat, although you ended up adding a bit more seasoning for your own tongue while Veritas dined on the soup as it was. He was slow with it, bent on observing you eat. 

“I assume that it is to your liking?”

You nodded, mouth full to respond. 

“Good. I am glad of it. Sometimes you have to take the back seat to get the joy of life, no matter how long you remain in that station it will be well worth it once you get back into the driver’s seat” He told you, hoping to get to you without addressing the matter directly, knowing it may result in more harm than good and your mood was just beginning to look up.

“Yeah… I know, Veritas. Yet having spent so much time at the head of it all, taking the back seat feels like a punishment” you managed to say after nearly scalding your throat with how eagerly you swallowed your bite, wanting to converse with him.  

“It is not a punishment, especially not when you know you need such a change in perspective. You’re doing yourself a misdeed by rooting yourself to the place that drained you in the first place” 

“Speaking from experience?”

“Pft- now, don’t be so brazen with me after letting me see you so wilted” he bit back quickly, but he held no actual malice, only wasn’t prepared for your rebuttal. He cleared his throat and took a sip of the tea he prepared for you both. Veritas was human too, and you knew of his own trials and errors more than anyone else - of course he felt the same, but you didn’t need to force him to admit it.

You smiled at his jab, scooping up more soup. 

“Wilted? I have to thank you for the nourishment then, I am already feeling more.. revitalized” you told him and your look softened his own when you looked up at him. Color seeps back into your cheeks, and you don't wobble in your step or stumble. Your bones felt like bones again, not air. 

“I will take your thanks properly once you really feel better.. until then, I’d prefer if you ate well and actually took some of the advice I gave you.. I may have not said it but your message did worry me greatly..”

The words made you slow down in your motions and you looked at him in silent apology now, but he once again beat you to speaking. “Imagine - I had to cancel my classes. What will my students think now?”

“They must be thinking it’s the end of the world”

“Hah” His pearly whites show as he grins at your words and you nearly imitate him, but you smile regardless with what energy you got back. He is leaning back in his seat, arms crossed in an almost boyishly fashion, relaxed. “Perhaps, but I can easily make up for a missed class. Let them think what they will.. May this even get their mind spinning a little bit more if my absence is so heatedly understood”. 

By the time you were done sharing jabs and words, you had eaten more than you expected. The warmth of the tea and soup brings sleep to pull at your eyelids, beckoning you to close them. Veritas noticed you nearly nodding off at the table and was quick enough to come up to your side, hand on the opposite shoulder from where he stood. 

“It is time you go get to bed”

Had you had any more strength, you would have said you needed to get to working on those papers, but the memory of the same was lost in the night before, and all you could think of how comfortable the pillow will be when your heads falls onto it, and how warm Veritas’ arms will be when he lays down next to you.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

A/n: the recipe is actually a greek recipe ehehhehee, I wanted a little easter egg

Um, I'm not sure if you're taking requests but I really love you're writing so I'm gonna try my luck

Could you please do a Medusa!Reader with Jiaoqiu? I've had this idea swirling around for a while.

A/n: I remember seeing those Medusa x her blind lover and I love the idea sm it's so bittersweet but can be fluffy aaaa

Contents: Jiaoqiu x Reader, angst, a bit of comfort, spoilers for the 2.5 quest!

The morning came damp and misty on the Xianzhou Yaoqing. Clouds hung heavy and grey overhead while people huddled away in their homes and offices, and shops. Gazing around it was hard to tell colors apart, everything looked gray. 

Your night was sleepless, and for the few minutes your eyes closed it was also dreamless, pebbled with touches of reality, the roughness of your blankets and the way it wouldn’t let you rest lest you left home altogether in search of that small bit of solace. You’d scarcely call it solace, but you knew a part of you would be called nonetheless, in some way. For once, you were the visitor and not the visited. And your time was limited.

Jiaoqiu opened the door, his eyes empty as they stared right through you and his ears were almost animated in their movement, rotating and flicking at each snap the snakes in your hair made, every little shuffle and whisper. He was still in his bedwear, hair slightly disheveled.

“Jiaoqiu..?” you whispered his name so cautiously, as if uttering it would break him and he responds with the softness of his smile upon recognizing your voice. His ears lightly fall, fluffy and pointed at you, shoulders slumping down in relief. 

“Ah.. it is you. It’s been quite a long time, although it feels even longer than that I confess..” he speaks so casually, stepping aside, shuffling over his own tail and inviting you in. Once inside you see the clean interior. There are no items on the floor, no low hanging plants and herbs like Jiaoqiu once described his home like. It was orderly, clean, spacious, made for him to remember and be safe in without worry. As much as it was a relief, it brought a pain to your chest, the view of his home solidifying the fate he encountered on the Luofu.

You slid up before him after the door clicked shut, your warm palms finding the paleness of his cheeks and cupping him close, tenderly. You search his eyes but find nothing, and his lashes soon flutter shut as he realizes your doings. Your hands don’t leave his skin, but his own hands find their place over your wrists, stroking gently to soothe you. You never touched him before, and he never gazed upon your face. The memory of your first encounter was a distant wisp of a memory he struggled to fiercely hold on, even as exhausted as he is. “You worry for me, my dear? I do not doubt the news… has reached you already..”

You nod in the moment, looking on at him in longing and you have to remind yourself that he was not lost. He was alive and whole, but more broken than the time you saw him off. 

“I have worried and I still worry.. what have they done to you, Jiaoqiu?” 

Jiaoqiu can’t help but frown at the tone of your voice, it hurts just to hear it, his heart twists and his hold on your wrists tightens. “Nothing I cannot deal with, (Y/n).. Please, do not scare yourself into sleeplessness. If it is of any comfort, General Feixiao has already vowed to find someone to heal my eyes.. Do not fret” he tells you but it is almost as if you do not hear him. His ears twitch at the soft sound of a hitched breath, he feels your thumb rolling across his cheek, under his eyes and your snakes hiss softly. 

He knew the chances of his eyes actually being healed were minimal, yet he wished not to bring you any more fright. It was odd to see you so fearful, worried, but no less saddening. He brought you happiness with his flowery poems and cryptic talks and you brought him joyful surprises with the bluntness of your speech. It was your large garden you usually met at, under the stone carved statue of a winding coral, pebbled with stone birds on every other branch. You’d sit at the base of the statue, back pressed against the stone, and he’d sit on the other corner of the same, never being able to gaze onto your face, but he remembers holding your hand. He never imagined such a romance would blossom from those interactions, yet it did.

He extends his hand forward, slowly moving it towards you until he feels the many little heads of small snakes bumping into his fingers and knuckles. He lets out a little chuckle, letting his hand linger and letting the curious snakes explore his skin as well. “Would you look at that.. they’re kissing me, are they?” He can feel the little licks of their thin tongues, even the snakes are gentle with him, being much more fragile than him. He feels half of the man that he once was, ashamed but he brings himself to smile nonetheless. Perhaps it was his turn to be soft and taken care of, however redundant that seemed to him. 

You scoff, the light shaking of your head pulling the snakes along with you, who in turn let out a dissatisfied hiss. 

“I should have been there..” you say, bringing his head closer down to kiss his forehead. He looks even prettier than you imagined him to be. You don’t expect him to reach for your cheek next though, it startles you but you melt into his touch.

“No. Your place is here, where it is safe” he says, resolute and firm in his words, tone suddenly washed clean from any drowsiness of sleep. “What has happened was unfortunate, yet necessary, I fear.. And were I to go back, I would have done the same.. Don’t worry about me. I can still think of poems for you, even if I can no longer see them or write them..” Your skin is warm and damp, he feels it, you have been crying. It worries him more. He presses his other hand to your cheek, bringing you closer until your foreheads pressed together, nuzzling into your warmth. The snakes in your hair seem to be in need of comfort as well with the way the slither closer, tickling his ears and cheeks with their little tongues and noses. 

“I am here. And so are you. And Hoolay is no more.. That’s all that matters now.”

You don’t respond, his words aren’t too comforting, however true they are, so you choose to pepper his cheeks and nose and forehead with countless kisses you couldn’t give him before.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Not alone

Contents: Diluc Ragnvindr x GN reader, comfort angst

Words: 473

The evening was stiff with the winter cold and the gloomy clouds sailing overhead. Diluc had found you in the corner of your bedroom, huddled not on the bed beside it, pressed against the wall,your arms around your knees. He didn’t need to ask to know that the weather and the recent activities brought more out of you than you cared to admit, memories opened old wounds and you were now bleeding before him. 

His gloves slip from his hands one by one as he approaches you, crouching down beside you and finding your cold hand in his warm one. His scarred fingers curl around it, bringing it up closer so his lips could press against the knuckles. His lips linger, pressed against the skin as you hide your face away in your knees, finding the world smaller and more manageable that way. It was all too much, too much, you wonder how you pushed it this far, how you found the strength to walk back home after each tiring shift, where does it all come from? It puzzled you even more why Diluc cared enough to try and comfort you, knowing how stubborn you can be. Yet, deep inside you knew it was because he was selfless in the heart of his heart. He wanted to help, not just you but everyone - his nights were spent toiling away so the people of Mondstadt remained safe. 

A cracked whimper fell from your mouth and you shrunk in on yourself further, your hand jumping from his grasp. Like a leaf against the snow you do your best to hold yourself to your roots, no matter how unpromising or cold they now have become. The storm tears at you, but you don’t give into it, even if giving into it means staying whole.

For a moment he panics, watching how you shied back into the corner of your self made prison. But his will- his need to offer you any semblance of comfort doesn’t waver and he reaches forward. His hands slowly find purchase on your shoulders, sliding around until he has you leaning forward and accepting the embrace. You sob into his chest, his layered outfit cushioning your head, the scent of winter still faintly clinging onto him. 

He is warm to the touch. Arms envelop you tighter, holding you closer, Diluc is no longer crouching before you, but he is sitting down propped up against the bed with you in his hold.

“I’m here.. I’m here..” He can be heard whispering, his nose finding the top of your head, nuzzling into your ever so gently. Fingers run through your hair, smoothing it down before he rubs at your nape, repeating the motions as you show your wounded soul to him through sniffled and hiccuped words. He listens, he understands.

You’re not alone. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.