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lychniis · 2 years

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⚘ — WE ARE MADE OF FUCKING STARDUST // DILUC.

i. SYNOPSIS : diluc adored you and every little thing about you. but sometimes, he really wants his sleep...only, you seem to insist on keeping him awake at night. ( diluc x gn ! reader )

ii. WARNING(S) : nothing much save for pure crack, implications of issekai'd reader, diluc being sleep deprived, reader being weirdly philosophical, lots of talking and some fluff to add in as well. basically this is just that carl sagan in me that rarely pops up deciding to make an entrance and whoop now we have this.

# masterlist

If an average citizen of Mondstadt would strike enough courage to ask Diluc something, it would be a question about you.

Between the quiet gossip amongst the Angel’s Share’s usuals and a few of his old suitors who watch the two of you from afar, they collectively agree that perhaps, having someone as intimidatingly quiet as the wine tycoon to be said man’s partner seemed to be a match crafted by Barbatos’ wily hands himself.

( A claim that Venti happily nods to, muttering a ‘good riddance’ under his breath as he sips his wine. He went through the literal abyss and back trying to play matchmaker and as proud as he is of the result, he was too tired — and lazy — to try it again. )

Maybe that was why this couple seemed to catch the curious gaze of so many. Their shared silence and penchant for seclusion ( or maybe it was crippling social awkwardness??? ) wove a shroud of mystery over both their heads. Diluc was already a quiet sort; polite but distant and most of them knew of his past and the death of his Crepus to collectively nod with shared sympathy at the man.

You were a stranger, someone from beyond Mondstadt’s borders who kept to yourself for the most part save for some passing conversation or a discussion amongst those you grew comfortable to call friends. Saying you were an urban legend was something that had started as a joke only to slowly grow its roots in Mondstadt’s stories. You would have been no different from a cryptid if you had chosen complete isolation, living in the far fetches of the country’s corners.

The Traveler asked once, their blonde head absently resting on the counter of the tavern nursing their juice with a curious huff. Ears were peeled and Diluc simply shrugged.

“My lover? Oh, they’re a terror in bed.”

Understandably, the blunt statement would have brought some raised brows. Kaeya even choked on his drink when he overheard it ( and he prided himself in knowing the ins and outs of what made his brother so…ugh, he didn't have a word flowery enough to describe Diluc’s broodiness — forget it ) and the rest of the tavern fell to deathly silence.

The people of Mondstadt collectively agree not to talk about it ever again.

However, as much salt as he seems to spew, there’s no denying Diluc loved you and you loved him. It’s seen in the sneaky kisses and the momentary flash of a flustered smile on his face. They see it in how you giggle and hold onto his sleeve at irregular moments and share a look of shy adoration. It was the kind of love the old would look back to with a knowing smile, their hearts once filled or still filled with it and it was the kind of love the young and wide-eyed would vie after with longing.

But Diluc knew your love came with a price of its own.

“Diluc…”

“Diluc…!”

Your voice always woke him, no matter the occasion and no matter the atmosphere that it was steeped in. He always woke despite his fatigue and the heaviness weighing down on his eyelids for a careful kiss on the lips and an amused giggle ( “You’re sleeping in a lot more,” you’d whisper with fond humor in your tone — he loved it when you spoke like that, breath-holding back laughter ) or to a frantic wail and a grip that spelled your homesickness and an ache that longed for a place too far to reach ( he liked these moments less — you were always so terrified and small and he could feel you tremble in his arms when he scoops you up and lays you on his lap ).

When his eyes crack open, it was still night, or maybe the early morning if the moon’s path was anything to learn from. Your fingers were combing through his hair gently, the touches almost fleeting and dream-like while your lips were pursed in contemplation.

For a moment, Diluc wonders if this was a dream, something comforting that his mind unearthed from the deepest corners of his mind and he leans into your hand — he wouldn't be against it. He likes the warm fuzziness this very domestic scene brought him ( and you felt warm too, leaning into his back and absently kissing his cheek ).

The chill from the breeze that gusted past the muslin curtains and the mild ache in his muscles from the previous night’s worth of battles told him otherwise. He grunts, shifting his body to focus on your face better; every line and contour and he traces your jaw absently, feeling tire slowly creep up again. You looked fine, undisturbed, and unprovoked and he forced the unconscious twitch in his muscles to subside.

“Is something wrong?” he asks anyway, his voice strained and a bit too gruff. You shrug — almost dismissively but there is an excited patter in your stance, from the way your fingers drum against his arm to how you lean your chin on his shoulder, demanding his attention.

“I am…I was just thinking of something.” You reply. The bed tips over some more under your weight and you lay atop him with a content sigh. “Want to hear about it?”

Oh Celestia not again, Diluc almost groans but he sees how expectant you seem, how excited and he swallows back the sentence in favor of something more polite and less scathing. “Perhaps you could tell me tomorrow? When I’m a little more awake?” he proposes, hoping that this would let you down slowly. But you stubbornly shake your head,

“I could, but I'll probably forget about it. You know I always forget about my nighttime thoughts.” you explain and Diluc vaguely recalls the blank look on your face the last time it happened ( “I did? Great, it must have been a really good one if I bothered you in the dead of night.” and the frustration on your face served as a warning enough to let you be in moments like this ), shutting up almost instantly. He stays silent for a good while, then finally sighs with defeat.

“Let’s hear it, then.”

You light up immediately when he says that. It almost makes up for being woken in the midst of his rare nightly sleep. Almost.

Your hands slide away from him as you gesture past the curtains and to the sky beyond. “You know about the stuff I told you about the stars, right?” you pipe up after a moment of quiet. Diluc squints at where you point and he does see the faint glimmers when the curtains would flutter away to reveal the faint outlines of Springvale and the open fields of Mondstadt.

“I do.” He murmurs, and he does recall ( a bit too well in fact ) the good hour spent of you rambling over ‘supernovas’ and ‘rouge planets’ and ‘hydrogen’ with the excitement of a six-year-old holding their birthday present while Diluc could only resort to staring stupidly, barely understanding a word you said. The words you used were foreign, complicated, and better suited for the tastes of the astrologer with little mora to her name.

( What was her name to begin with? )

He hears your sharp inhale as you sit up and his hand involuntarily does reach up to rest on your lap. Skinship was something of a necessity between the two of you ( or maybe Diluc was just touch starved but his hubris stops him from admitting it ) and you play with his fingers with a far-off look in your eyes. “Okay, okay, so I told you how stars are made of hydrogen and helium, both the gases essentially being the reason why they emit heat and light?”

“Mhmm.”

“So the first stars to exist in our universe were a lot bigger,” you continue. “And the bigger stars burned out a lot faster than the smaller ones due to their huge masses. Even so, during their lifespans, they managed to create new elements that were dispelled out when they went supernova, and then those dispelled elements went on to make new stars. It’s like a cycle of sorts…a lot similar to what we go through…” you fall silent for a few moments. He watches you intently with those scarlet eyes of his, twining his fingers with your own. From the faint lighting, he thinks he sees a flustered smile on your face.

You speak up again. And Diluc still listens.

“Anyway, those new stars, in turn, made more new elements and after millions upon millions of years spent burning and reacting, the new building blocks for the creation of life were made. The asteroids that soon make the planets, the comets and most of everything existing were made from stars that died. And you know what's even cooler?” you grin, looking down at him.

Diluc smiles softly. “What?” he humors.

“So are we.” you quote. “The atoms in our bodies came from the stars as well; well most of them anyway. Supernova after supernova and every fragment of our being, probably came from a different star, no matter how far away. It’s amazing, being so intimately connected to the universe, being made of celestial bodies so old they’ve lived the collective lifespan of every human that existed combined a thousand times over. It makes me feel better in a way, knowing that even though I might feel very out of place and alienated, I still belong in this universe.”

An owl’s hoot cuts you off and you start a little, caught off guard by the haunting sound. Diluc chuckles softly and he sits up next to you. Your shoulders relax and you turn to him, leaning your chin against the palm of your hand, the grin, that silly little grin that Diluc adored to a point where his chest hurts, returns. He hoped to Barbatos that it was dark enough to hide the heat that was blooming on his cheeks.

“So in other words,” you conclude with a grandiose wave. “You’re made of fucking stardust.”

“...”

Diluc huffs with amusement threatening to burst free. “...I am unsure if you are trying to state a fun little fact, or if you’re flirting with me, love.”

As if on cue, your expression drops to that of tired exasperation as your face is buried into your knees. “So it didn't land well then, huh? God, maybe I should have reviewed the speech before waking you…it sounded so good in my head, though — ” Your laments are stopped short when he presses a kiss on his knuckles. He couldn't be mad anymore, not after seeing the near adorable display you gave him with your little rambles.

( Oh archons, was he really that obsessed? )

“I think it was a little romantic…granted it could have used a little more work with its wording.” He teases and Diluc does not sound hypocritical at all saying that. You roll your eyes playfully, placing a peck on his lips. It’s his turn to mumble a few flustered words and he shuts his eyes, trying to tamp down the butterflies that flutter in his stomach.

( …he was, it seems. )

( He thinks that if anyone was made of starstuff, it was you but he shyly stops the words and swallows them. )

“Thank you for the advice, Mr. Ragnvindr. I’ll be sure to put swearing down to a minimum…” you smile. “But my little speech is not the only reason why I woke you though…” there is a scheming glint in his eyes and a part of Diluc realized, with slight mortification, that you planned this all along. You reach out under the bed and pull out a package, heavily wrapped in patterned paper, and under his suspicious glare, sets it on his lap.

He weighs it in his hands experimentally, recognizing the clothes inside, and undoes the scarlet ribbon, the paper giving way to a sleek black coat. You lean your chin against his shoulder. “Happy birthday, Diluc,” you whisper.

Oh…

Something in him stirs.

His birthday.

He had forgotten about it…

He picks up the article, running his fingers over the layered fabric — perfect for Mondstadt’s nights — and the embroidered hood that came along with it. There were words left unspoken, but a single shared glance was enough of an understanding. This time Diluc does laugh a little. It was short but you brightened up again, pleased with the breathless smile that spread across his face. You got this for him. For him.

“I…” he chokes out. “You…you bought this for me?”

You hum. “I saved up as much as I could the past few months from my expenses and had this custom made…with contractual anonymity of course. Can’t have people tracking down the Darknight hero.”

Diluc doesn’t understand why he feels giddy. Or why this feels so significant. Birthdays were birthdays another day in a year that he couldn’t bother with. Yet, with all his claims and proclamations, he found himself tripping over his words and sentences with the articulation of a two-year-old. You did this for him, a testament to the affections you held in your hands and your acceptance of who he was, and that was enough.

“Thank you…” the words stumble out, mixed, warbled, a little shy, and a little heavy with the weight of emotion that filled him up from his fingertips to his heart. “Thank you very much.”

( Diluc thinks he understands your space rambles a little more now. )

❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

taglist ; @astroculus-affiliation

the reader literally going "look man i love you but you need a new hero suit because i can see your fucking hair even at night and not a lot of people have firetruck red hair, ya know."

anyway, happy birthday, diluc! i finished this just in time for his birthday celebration. @x-zho, i hope this fuels your simp needs enough-

the source for the whole space shit research is here and here. i have to admit, as much as i hate physics, the universe is pretty fucking awesome!

AINE | 2022. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

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