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COME BACK, BE HERE.
anonymous requested: i was wondering if i could please request angst to fluff/comfort drabbles of kazuha, wanderer, cyno, tighnari and albedo when the reader goes to sleep on the couch after an argument.
kaedehara kazuha, scaramouche, cyno, albedo x gender neutral reader.
word count: 2.9k.
content: angst to comfort. mentions of blood and injury in wanderer’s.
thank you so much for requesting! sorry this took so long to post, but i really loved writing it <3
reblogs and comments are much appreciated!
KAEDEHARA KAZUHA ✧*:･ﾟ
on hindsight, this was totally your fault.
you acted out of jealousy and pettiness. and now you are wallowing in your own self-pity.
why?
why did you blame your sweet boyfriend, you don’t know.
you guess seeing everyone paying attention to him since he dared to face the shogun’s blow and emerged victorious didn’t sit well with you. one, because he had quite literally made your heart freeze that time, there was a millisecond in which every moment with you and him together flashed before your eyes as if it was the last. and two, because kazuha is too polite for his own good. he just couldn’t say no, smiling charmingly as women and men alike flocked around him.
you had had enough for tonight, the heated flames of anger guiding your frenzied pace to your shared apartment, not even bothering to wait for your wandering samurai.
but alas, your rage blinded you to kazuha’s pleading gaze and outstretched hand when you stormed off.
lying on your side in your shared bedroom, you hear the click of the front door.
“dove, are you in here?” kazuha calls. “are you alright?”
alright? alright?
how does he have the audacity to even ask that.
silence is all the reply he gets.
unfortunately for you, your lover is quite the expert at tracking people, so not many seconds pass before he finds you.
“ah there you are, my hummingbird. i was worr- ”
“don’t call me that.” you spat.
a shadow you do not like seeing in his eyes crosses his face. the same darkness as when he’s asked about a cherished one who dared to brave the lightning’s glow but was unfortunate.
you hate yourself for it, but bitterness seems to rule your every action this instant, as if on autopilot.
“dove? did i do something wrong?” he tries, voice so weak and almost shattering, like the last leaf that hangs by a thread in winter trees. you want to run to him and apologize, yet you scoff.
“no. nothing at all! why don’t you go celebrate risking your life with all the fans you have out there?” in a flurry, you grab your pillow and a spare blanket, shouldering past a very shocked kazuha. “in any case, i’m not sleeping here. goodnight, kaedehara.”
kaedehara.
not kazuha, not kazu, not love.
it hurts him.
and it hurts you.
no goodnight kiss happens either, only a door swinging closed, an ice wall between two hearts that yearn only for one another.
the living room is cold, and sweet dreams do not reach teary shores.
no position is comfortable.
he is not here.
the moonlight is too grey.
because kazuha isn’t whispering poetry about it and you.
you don’t want to be awake, yet you don’t want to wake again.
and it’s your fault. all of it.
however, you are not the only one who can’t catch sleep like this.
and luckily for you this time, your boyfriend does have quite a sharp sense of hearing.
“can’t sleep, [y/n]?” you rise your head, tear stains visible in your face.
not dove, not hummingbird, not angel.
it hurts. both to him and you.
“does it matter?” you laugh. you don’t deserve peaceful sleep after how you’ve treated him. and you don’t deserve kazuha either.
“it does to me.” he whispers, sitting in the couch beside you. he goes to take your hand in his, but hesitates. then, he speaks again.
“i’m sorry, [y/n]. i’m still not sure what it was i did wrong but i apologize.” he glances in your direction, scarlet eyes akin to stormy sunsets, and not the tranquil ones you found peace in. “i can leave if you’d rather- ”
“don’t.” you cut him off, all too suddenly. “please don’t.” you hate how pitiful you sound, and your inner storm finally is let out in the night rain of your tears. “and don’t apologize either, kazuha.” you turn your body to him, scooting closer. “you… you did nothing wrong. it’s my fault, i made a big deal out of nothing and i don’t deserve y- ”
you are silenced by his index resting on your quivering lips.
“shhh don’t think such nonsense, my dove.”
and at the pet name you are so fond of returning to his speech, you can’t hold it in anymore. loud sobs start to rake your body and you bury your face in kazuha’s chest.
and as he always did, he holds you.
he is the harbor you always found a safe haven in; the sun after late night storms and the color to late autumn cold.
“i’m so sorry, kazu, i’m so sorry, i- i… didn’t mean… i didn’t want- i just… i thought about that time when you- you…” you can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence, the after wave of your tsunami coming back in more waterfalls of tears.
“i’m sorry, my hummingbird.” he hugs you tighter and closer to his chest, the warmth of his heartbeat a reminder that he is here, with you, /and he’s okay/. “i’m here. i’m okay, you are okay. we are fine, my love.”
your hands press against his back even more, as if you wanted to make sure this is real and memorize the shape of his touch all at once.
kazuha is right. him and you are fine.
“o-okay.” you sniffle, your cheek resting on the poet’s chest. he laces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand, bringing it to the lips that have chanted the sweetest of verses for you only and that you will forever adore.
acer palmatum shines bright in the sky tonight.
SCARAMOUCHE ✧*:･ﾟ
“are you dumb?” the wanderer hisses at you. “did you even stop to think about the consequences or yourself?”
“no, i think we were pretty busy with the commission as it is!” you mutter through gritted teeth, hand resting against your bloody side. this is bad, you are starting to feel dizzy. but your house is near, just a few more steps through sumeru’s backstreets and you’ll be there.
hang on, you tell yourself.
“well of course you didn’t. you never think.” scaramouche points out, his tone cold, matter of factly.
“as if you were any better!” you take a deep breath, your energies leaving you momentarily, vision going white for a second when you try to stand straight. “betrayal this, humans are weak that.” you huff. “everyone’s a nuisance to you.”
you fumble with the keys to your apartment, unaware of your lover’s crestfallen features.
flinching, you make your way inside, laying as carefully as you can on the couch.
the ex-harbinger stands there, awkwardly for once, no jabs coming out of his tantalizing lips.
“cat got your tongue?” you scorn. “i’m sleeping here tonight, if you must know.” you turn your face away from him, in part to hide your grimace, in part out of spite. “suit yourself. or leave, i couldn’t care less.”
“but what about your woun- ”
“i can take care of myself just fine, in case you didn’t know!” you scream at him. and he can’t see it, but you are taken aback by your own outburst. this is the first time you’ve actually raised your voice at him.
“okay, then. goodnight.” scaramouche mumbles, making his way to the bed you won’t share tonight.
it’s well past midnight when a loud ‘thud’ wakes the wanderer. it comes from the living room. from where you are sleeping tonight, he reminds himself, with a pang of hurt to his devoid heart.
a make believe heart that would break almost beyond repair with the sight he is met with.
you, lying on the floor, blood soaking through your shirt.
“oh no, please don’t. no, no, no.” he repeats it like a mantra, a protective spell that will keep your drifting soul afloat. “hey!” he calls your name several times. “come on! wake up!” carefully, he hoists you up, cradling you into his chest. you are breathing shallowly, and your skin is burning up. with slight relief, scaramouche sighs. /you’re still with him./
“kuni…” you look up at him through bleary eyes, your voice little more than a crystal string about to snap.
“you are going to be okay, i’ve got you now. you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay…” he trails off, reassuring himself more than you.
“you… were… right, kuni…” you try to cup his cheek, arm trembling, goosebumps flowering in your skin despite how sweaty and feverish you are. “i.. i… didn’t think… i didn’t take care… and i hurt you…”
“shut up, shut up!” his violet gaze is glassy, akin to irises rained in morning dew. “don’t expend any more energies! i need… i will… i’m going to patch you up, and you’ll be okay, yes, you are going to be fine…”
“but i’m okay now… because you are here, kuni.” you smile, lids fluttering closed, the sound of a mechanical heartbeat oddly comforting.
when you wake again, clean bandages cover your middle, and you are no longer in your living room’s snug couch, but in the comfort of your shared bed.
faint but warm sunlight filters through cream-colored windows, each beam kissing your skin in ways that make the man beside you jealous.
you hear him call your name, before familiar lean but strong arms envelop you in a hug. “you woke up, you are with me.” scaramouche whispers, tone shaky.
“kuni, i’m… i’m so sorry, about last night, about how i treated you. i was careless, and i was mean. i’m sorry.” you tell him, expression solemn yet bashful.
“i don’t care about that, dummy.” he flicks your forehead, sticking his tongue out at you in a playful manner afterwards. “i only care that you are safe.”
“softie.” you mutter, expression caught in between flustered and endeared.
“i’m not.” he pouts, laying you down with him for a little longer.
you need time to recover fully, and he’ll stay with you all the way.
no matter what.
sunbeams kiss your wanderer’s form too.
together, you leap into a sweet slumber this time.
CYNO ✧*:･ﾟ
you swear he’s crossing the line. every night he follows the same routine, late into the am’s, dark circles visible under his scarlet eyes the next morning.
assembling his deck, building it, putting it into his priced box and out again.
“cyno, you should come to bed, love.” you would coo, hoping the serious general (and TCG invocation nerd by night) would comply to your sweet loving.
“mhm. not yet.” he would always repeat, gaze practically burning embers in his precious cards.
and usually, you would sigh and resign yourself to another lonely night, with no one, nothing, by your side, only the chill of a half occupied bed meant for two.
but a branch eventually snaps, when the fruit it holds grows juicy and heavy.
and tonight, you snap.
“oh fine. don’t bother anyway.” you throw your hands up in defeat, exasperated. “i won’t use the bed either way, quite the waste for myself alone.” and with that, you turn tail, leaving your lover completely dumbfounded, the card he was holding fluttering to the kitchen table.
grumbling, you settle in the living room’s couch, and albeit silent, the atmosphere feels… tense. your heartbeat is loud in your ears, no protective embrace wraps around you tonight, and no bad jokes are told.
his jokes. you would have never thought there would come a day when you’d miss them, but, as they say, there’s always a first time for everything.
because you do miss them.
you miss him.
as hours extend and marines and amethysts rule the heavens, a rough sleep claims you. consciousness may have left your body temporarily, but no rest comes to save you tonight. it’s as if a piece was missing from the heart shaped puzzle of your dreams.
because cyno is not with you. and even though this is no novelty, it feels unbearably lonely this time.
no goldens or crimsons paint your dreams tonight. there are no coppery sands, no emerald trees, no cyan skies.
no light, no sun.
only decrepit forests, no vegetation and a sky as dark as coal. the ground, it feels like dark treacle, swallowing you, drowning you with every step you try to take.
you don’t recall the exact moment your nightmare ended, but you are certain your last breath uttered his name.
cyno’s gaze aflame regards you, wide and concerned, as if dark ravens had cast a shadow over sunrise.
“you had a bad dream.” he states, brushing strands of hair away from your eyes.
you nod, sitting up. there’s a blanket carefully thrown over you. you don’t remember it being there last night.
“i… cyno, the dream. you weren’t there.” you whisper. then: “i’m sorry. about last night. i went too far. i know how hard you work and how much you like playing card- ”
before more apologies can leave your lips, cyno has sealed them with his own. you relax, the tension of your argument ebbing away as your boyfriend’s hands cup your cheeks. you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him as close to you as physically possible.
there’s light, there’s sun now.
he needn’t use words to tell you it’s all forgotten, the intent of his kiss reveals you as much, alongside with a promise of eves by your side.
you are cyno’s priority, and he’ll try better to make it clear. right now, he wouldn’t care if his castle of cards crumbled, as long as you are smiling.
ALBEDO ✧*:･ﾟ
sometimes, you wish you were an alchemist genius. maybe that way, albedo would actually pay attention to you every time you bring him snacks to his lab in dragonspine.
perhaps if you were a skilled researcher like sucrose, the chief alchemist would find more joy in coming back home every night, instead of returning little earlier before dawn.
and today is no different.
you brave the cold, he barely rises his icy blue eyes at you, and you are about to turn tail and go.
but then: “i’ll be back early, tonight, dearest.” he muses, hands busy measuring the contents of different vials. “i have to review some reports sucrose submitted last week, so…”
“oh don’t bother!” you pull your coat closer to your form. the frigidness of the mountain gales and the steel in your voice freeze you to your very bones. “it’s always work with you! reports this, tests that. why care about yourself or the people who are worried about you?” adjusting your scarf, you scoff. to yourself, to no one in particular you add: “i shouldn’t bother either bringing you stupid food.”
“love…” the alchemist tries.
that’s right. alchemist. not your lover, or boyfriend, or beloved. right now it is clear there is a huge rift separating you and him.
albedo’s chest feels as if it was encased in ice, his body chained and exposed to the eternal cold, much like prometheus’, his insides consumed by the heavy grief settled between you two.
he opens his mouth again, yet no phrases can be formed.
it would be pointless either way, you are nowhere to be seen.
no cup of hot chocolate greets him that evening upon returning home.
it’s also darker when your smiley lips don’t grace his reddened and snow-cold cheeks either.
with a downcast gaze, albedo closes the door to your shared home behind him. judging by the complete lack of activity in the lobby, he determines you must be in your shared bedroom.
a door softly closing confirms his hypothesis.
“i’m home.” he announces, before entering your shared room.
pale moonbeams are the only illumination inside. and there, by the window, with arms crossed over your chest is you.
if he didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to right now, the chalk prince would request for you to stay like that a little longer. he’d like to paint you, beautifully and magically blessed by the moon goddess, the glittering stella of her silver chariot an angelic halo most fitting for your perfection.
he’ll just have to memorize you, albedo thinks.
when you see him enter, you stand up from your perch, decidedly walking past him.
“i’m sleeping elsewhere tonight.” you declare, your words, the silvery edge of a blade in the night. “not that you’ll care, anyway, since those reports of yours will keep you busy…”
your words falter when your prince grabs your wrist.
as much as your mind tells you to not give in, the heart works with electric impulses, after all; and the pleasant shivers albedo’s thumb brushing your inner forearm sends through your entire body are simply undeniable.
“you are the only one i want to keep me busy tonight.” your lover muses, tugging you close, close, close to his chest, until he’s hugging you and you are hugging him. because a liar you’d be if you didn’t admit how much you want him, how much you need him, /how much you love him/. “and tomorrow night.” a kiss to your forehead. “and the night after that.” a kiss to your jaw, followed by another to your collarbone. “and every night.” he takes ahold of your hand, piercing azure fixated on your mesmerizing eyes, as his lips tenderly kiss the back of your hand.
“it certainly does sound like a plan.” you confess, hand reaching up to cup his cheek.
yet he is quicker, turning his pretty face and leaving another kiss on your palm for good measure.
those reports can wait.
they will have to, anyway.
the chief alchemist is completely drunk in his partner’s love right now.
“There’s a Japanese phrase that I like: koi no yokan. It doesn’t mean love at first sight. It’s closer to love at second sight. It’s the feeling when you meet someone that you’re going to fall in love with them. Maybe you don’t love them right away, but it’s inevitable that you will.”
— Nicola Yoon, The Sun Is Also a Star
HOLY SHIt THIS WAS YOU????? stygian is my fave and ur art always showed up whenever i looked for him <:3333
redraw of an old piece! they are still besties
please reblog my art!
i can barely stand to look at this anymore but showing it to compare with the new piece </3 drawn in Ye Olde Times of 2021
Doodle
moonjou 🤝 qinter 🤝 lynxfall
It may be a bit parasocial-y but it makes me happy to see mitski dance on stage and have so much fun doing it, it makes me happy to see someone so passionate about their art, it makes me happy to know that someone as talented as her has felt similar things to me and even puts it into words and sounds for me to come to terms with what I feel yk?