#tellerluna.rkive: genshin

[tellerluna-stories]

episode 07: away from home and back again

CONTENTS: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. m.list!

TW/CW: none!

A/N: annnd welcome to the final chapter, dear readers! thank you for following this storyline to the very end :''))) I'm happy you all enjoyed thoma and mc's shenanigans, and i hope that you keep the message of this story close to your hearts <;33

Your legs flew faster than light, carrying you across the field in a flash. People stopped and stared as you rushed past, but what were they gonna do, stop you?

You ran, and ran, and ran, and ran. 

(Meanwhile, you were only one millimetre away from having a complete meltdown over… whatever had just happened. Listen, it wasn’t your fault that you had zero knowledge about how to deal with this!)

The only time you slowed down was to briefly scratch Taroumarou behind the ears, for he had been waiting outside of the gate. Hey, you still had your priorities, even when you were supposed to be running away from all of your problems.

But no matter how fast you ran, your racing thoughts swiftly caught up to you— you could no longer tell if your heart was pounding because of the complete overload of cardio or if it was thanks to Thoma and his way of words. Perhaps it was both.

‘As more than friends, in fact.’

Gritting your teeth, you ran even faster, no longer caring about where you were headed. Anywhere would do just as long as you could ignore how your heart threatened to burst out of your chest to take flight, or those ridiculously impractical butterflies that swarmed in your chest cavity like a swarm of hopeful pests. Really, just what were you they hoping for?

You slowed to a stop, the dead leaves crunching under your feet.

There you went again, running away from Thoma. Why did you always run from him? Why were you so afraid of him, of allowing him to treat you gently and cherish you so?

Overhead the branches rustled, sending scattered shafts of sunlight and falling leaves tumbling down from above— in contrast to your muddled state of mind, the world around you was serenely peaceful. And to top it all off, your legs had brought you to the crosswalk where you and Thoma had apparently first met. Talk about the irony.

“Unfair.” Crouching down next to a nearby lampost, you buried your burning face into your knees. “…So unfair.” 

When you had promised yourself to support Thoma’s decision no matter what, you had not anticipated this. Everything was wrong, wrong, wrong— your armour of rationality was long-lost, leaving you to face your raw emotions alone and defenseless. The only sliver of comfort you could find was in the fact that there would be no cars using this road today, because the last thing you wanted was for the whole world to see you curled up like a disgruntled millipede beside the road.

The butterflies swarmed in your chest again, fluttering with the promise of hope; somehow you’d achieved the impossible and actually won the fifty-fifty percent chance of having your feelings returned. For some inexplicable reason, you… actually had a shot. At something. 

“It was so much easier to think rationally when I wasn’t the one going through it,” you complained to the sky. “Can I take back all of my previous complaints, please?”

The sky remained helpfully quiet— well, you supposed that that was what you got for asking for change without even considering whether or not you were prepared for it. However, it did not make the situation any less frustrating.

“I never even expected to get this far! Now what am I supposed to do?!”

Woof!

“Taroumarou, wait for me!”

Your head snapped to the direction where that all-too-familiar voice came from— oh, you just couldn’t catch a break, could you?

Briefly you contemplated your options; the first one was to continue running away. And the second was to actually face your problems like an adult.

(Just kidding! You only technically had one option, because if you ran any more you were pretty sure you would keel over and die from overexercising. Shame on you for not giving your all in P.E. class.)

“Taroumarou…” The footsteps slowed to a stop, that voice of honey-sunshine trailing off into silence. You didn’t need to see him to know what was going on.

Taking a shaky breath, you silently accepted your fate; just like that, Thoma had found you once again. 

You whirled around to meet a masterpiece straight out of the Romantic period– a work of art with golden hair gently tousled by the wind, his emerald eyes brimming with surprise. Faintly-flushed lips that had just barely managed to form your name before trailing off into reverent silence, and a school uniform in colours that matched your own.

(Somehow, the picture before you gave you a sense of deja vu.)

“I, uh– hi.”

“Hey.”

You both stood there awkwardly for a minute or two; the silence was so thick that you could’ve heard a pin drop.

(Well, except for the faint sound of whining that could be heard from behind Thoma– most likely the sound of judgement from the Boss Dog. Sorry, Taroumarou!)

“If it’s about what you overheard me say earlier, I…” He swallowed thickly, averting his eyes. “Well, it’s uh- that’s definitely not how I wanted to tell you. But if you’re uncomfortable with it—”

“No!” Your voice comes out louder than you anticipated. “I mean– no. It just…”

Oh, nothing. Just that you found out that all your unrequited pining wasn’t so unrequited after all. You, the former matchmaker who knew how to counsel any sort of relationship except your own and now had absolutely zero knowledge of how anything worked anymore because according to your predictions for yourself, something like this was statistically impossible to happen and now all of your calculations were now aflame and burning to ashes thanks to one singular puppy-boy—

Something cold and wet rolled down your face, the salty taste lingering on your tongue; with horror, you realised that you were crying. 

“Wh–” You swiped at your face hastily, trying to catch the falling tears before you embarrassed yourself any more than you already did. “Please don't misunderstand! I’m not mad at you or anything!”

“Then what’s going on with you?” Thoma pleaded. “Just tell me what’s wrong, please.”

“I…” Your voice cracked, the tears not stopping even when you willed them out of existence. Stupid tear ducts. 

The look in his eyes was so simple, so honest that it made you want to crumble right into his hands, and you hated it. Every cell in your body yearned to finally yield to what you'd been keeping under lock and key for so long— speak up, you coward! Running away will only hurt him!

“Since when?” 

He swallowed hard. “I’m not really sure, but I think… since the beginning.”

“What?” You nearly choked on the air mid-sniffle, which was not an ideal situation to find out exactly when your long-time crush had been reciprocating your feelings. “Like, when we bumped into each other in front of the classroom?”

“No, here.” Thoma chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Since… ever since we met here. I didn’t realise it back then, but…”

He trailed off in silence, the rosy flush of his face speaking for him. 

If you were going to be completely honest, you gaped at him like an idiot. This guy had had a crush on you ever since he first met you – an event that you barely remembered – and he… he…

You needed to clear your head and be sincere, or else you’d really lose your mind.

“...If I'm gonna be honest, Thoma…” You say softly, every ounce of honesty pouring into your words. “I'm terrified.”

No words could describe how afraid you were; you, who no longer had any more armour or defenses to put up. Like a reckless, well-meaning dog in a china shop, all of those had been destroyed by the gentle heart of the young man before you, leaving you in complete surrender. And no words would ever capture the absolute joy running through your veins when he chose to be with you over anyone else, when he chose to care for you even when he didn't have to.

…Which was really frustrating, considering that now you actually wanted to verbalise your feelings. Just where did your gift of speech go when you needed it most?

 “I’m… really not the best with words. Or feelings. Or—”

“Hey.” Thoma interrupts you mid-sentence, raising his eyebrows in his signature ‘don't you dare start self-deprecating’ expression.

“Right. Sorry.” You cleared your throat. “I don't— I'm just…”

“... It's okay, you know.” 

His eyes softened, that bittersweet smile spreading across his face like sickness. “Like I said, I didn't want you to find out that way because I didn't want you to be pressured. You don't have to be considerate of me.”

Eh…?

Your eyes widened— what was he saying? 

“Once again, I'm sorry for tangling you up in all this,” His words sounded distant and murky, reverberating through the thick fog of your clouded mind. “Please forget about anything I said—”

Horror and panic flooded your entire mind as you realised what he was saying; no, no, no, no, wait that wasn't what you were supposed to tell him wait wait wait—!

“I don't want to!” You practically shouted at the top of your lungs and buried your face in your hands miserably, crouching down once more in dead millipede position as you cursed your terrible communication skills– why, why, why did you have to be so bad at this?! “I like you too, for crying out loud!”

Absolute silence. 

“...Thoma?”

He didn’t reply.

Several minutes passed, and still no response; you mustered your courage to peep through your fingers and nearly choked on your spit. You really, really didn’t want to laugh in this scenario, but… Thoma looked like he had just gotten hit with a shovel.

Taroumarou silently padded towards Thoma and gently tugged on his pant leg, but the puppy-boy remained unmoving. No amount of tugging or nipping would budge the golden statue no matter how hard the Boss Dog tried– but from the way he seemed too familiar with the procedure, you got a feeling that this wasn’t the first time that Taroumarou had to deal with this.

Finally, Taroumarou gave a resigned whimper and raised one of his hind legs– your eyes widened in horror as you realised what he was about to do.

“Taroumarou, don’t!”

Thoma nearly jumped a foot in the air at the sound of your voice, snapping out of his daze at a most admirable speed; the Boss Dog retreated hastily, giving a reproachful sneeze as he skittered back to a safe distance. The miserable expression on his face had you silently apologising to Taroumarou for what must’ve been the hundredth time that day. 

“Um.” Thoma blinked owlishly, a confused (and hopelessly adorable) expression on his face. “I- I didn’t mishear you, right? You said that…”

“...Yeah. I did.”

“Oh.” His eyes somehow widened even further. “Oh.”

“I- look.” You began, ruffling your hair in frustration. “I can’t word it properly, so I’ll be borrowing some of your words here. Do you remember the last time we were here and I asked you what it meant to be in- in…” 

‘Thoma, what does falling in love feel like?’

Your spit caught itself in your throat again, nearly choking you to death from the power of sheer embarrassment. What had you been thinking?!

“In…” Thoma’s voice trailed off, a rosy flush gracing his cheeks– why was he the one blushing like a young maiden here?! “Ah. I remember.”

“Right! Anyways!” Your hands flailed around nervously till they found their place on the lamp-post, your nails digging into the metal. “I- I kinda get what you were talking about now! The whole flying-but-falling, afraid but not thing…” Your voice trailed off as you accidentally made eye contact with Taroumarou, who had slowly walked up to hover behind Thoma’s ankles. 

Kill me now, said the Boss Dog’s expression. Please. Death would be more merciful than having to sit through this.

That death stare alone was enough to make you rethink every word that was about to come out of your mouth; no, you didn't want to admit that you were doing this thanks to a dog, but… he had a point.

You were hiding again, hiding behind words that Thoma had already used like the wretched coward you were, all because you were too afraid of taking the leap. But it was time for you to grow up— if he could manage being blatantly honest about his feelings (the horror!), then so could you.

Yes, you decided, squaring your shoulders and looking Thoma directly in the eye. The time had come for you to suck it up and say what you really meant.

“...Do you remember the day we became seat-mates?” You asked quietly. 

“Of course,” He replied almost immediately. “How could I possibly forget?”

In spite of yourself, a soft chuckle makes its way out of you; it only felt like yesterday in your memories, but so much time had passed between then and now.

“I still remember how confused I was to see you there,” You continued, a wry smile working its way up your lips. “Back then, I didn’t care who or what would sit beside me in class. I just wanted peace and quiet.”

You thought of how lonely and grey the world had felt when you had attained your desired empty seat, completely lacking in the warm hues that you had become accustomed to. Fiery yet gentle red, a warm sunset orange, and yellow that shone like sunlight– for someone who had experienced such vibrant hues, returning to black and grey was a torturous existence. How could you ever return to a normal life when you had already experienced it in colour?

“...Yeah, I definitely didn't get any peace and quiet after that.”

Thoma winced visibly. “Sorry.”

“Hey, don't be sorry. It was a good thing because…” You hesitated for a moment. “...I was happy.” 

You could admit as much, though that sentence alone would never be able to capture how elated you were, the dizzying joy that rushed through your entire being when you realised that someone genuinely went out of their way to spend time with you. That somebody saw you standing in the shadows and went to stand with you, slowly walking with you till you stood side-by-side in the light. 

To you, the forgotten extra, the afterthought who was only remembered when needed— there were no words that could describe how precious that feeling was.

(Man. You had fallen even harder than you originally expected. )

“Even if I’m bad at showing it, I was really happy. The times we ate lunch on the rooftop, or when we'd walk home and laugh about what happened during the day…”

Your fingers twisted in the hem of your shirt as you chuckled, shaking your head in resignation. “And that's why I didn't want to say anything about it. Because I was so happy I was afraid I'd mess it all up.”

That didn't even capture one-fourth of how terrified and confused you felt; the concept of someone finding genuine interest in you as a person was so alien to you that you tried to push it away, running as fast as you can till your legs gave out. But all the same your heart yearned and bled for the opportunity to be cherished, for something to change in your closed-off, wretched mindset, for someone to see through your armour and understand. 

“I’m scared, Thoma. It feels like I’ve been reborn, and it all started when I met you.” Your eyes prickled dangerously, warning you of the tears that threatened to spill any moment now. “Everything is so new to me, and it scares me so, so much— I’m terrified of change.”

Good job, whispered a part of your brain— and in spite of being on the verge of tears, the uncomfortable feeling in your chest slightly loosened, leaving you with your raw emotions. Your mind flowed freely, recalling so many precious memories and feelings that you had accumulated over all your time with Thoma; all were so dear to your heart that you wished you could hoard them away forever. In complacency you had hoped to preserve them in a state of eternal tranquility, but…

“...Me too, actually.”

“Hah?” You blinked owlishly, your eyes coming back into focus just in time to see Thoma flush pink. 

“I mean– uh, well, I get you there!” He sputtered furiously, rubbing the back of his neck with the same charmingly awkward air that he always had. “I really, really cherish all the time we spent together, but I didn’t know if it was the same for you, and I was– I was…” 

I was afraid, just the same as you.

For a moment you're struck with the sheer irony of it all— this all could have been very easily avoided if you had actually just communicated with each other and weren't actual boneheads when it came to subtle cues. 

Was it still too late to launch yourself directly into the sun?

“...Looks like we were in the same boat all this time, huh.”

“Yeah,” Thoma replied. “I guess so.”

That's it?! You wanted to scream at yourself. You had wasted so much time dawdling because of your fears, and now you didn't even have the energy to say anything anymore. 

Thoma didn't deserve this, no– this was why you had thought he deserved better. He shouldn't have had to carry the burden of a coward like you who couldn't even say anything when it mattered most—

“I… You should go.” You sniffed most unbecomingly, dabbing at your eyes with the stiff fabric of your uniform. “Sorry– sorry for just bursting out like this all of a sudden. It’s not like me.”

But he didn’t turn away; instead, Thoma stepped forward to the edge of the curb. The dead leaves rustled around his ankles restlessly, parting themselves to make a path for his feet. 

What on earth was he doing?

“Thoma, didn’t you hear me?”

“I know.” His emerald eyes fixed themselves solely onto you, soft yet steady— the intensity of his gaze sent heat flushing to your ears and your face in a most unwelcome manner. And then Thoma stepped even closer, blocking you from view with his body. "Sorry, I’m- I just…”

Your grip tightened on the lamp-post, instinctively trying to steady yourself for whatever he was about to say.

“I…” Thoma cleared his throat, the faintest trace of pink colouring his cheeks. “I just want to be a bit selfish, even for just a little while. I want to keep this moment for myself."

His voice is barely above a whisper, one softer than the dreams of a sleeping child, yet those words rang louder in your ears than a thousand school-bells. If — and only if — your intuition was correct, then this moment was a secret meant to be shared with only two people, one as well-kept as a hidden gem of a bakery. 

(The sudden recalling of a certain memory made you flush even hotter— was that what he had meant to imply that day?)

“Do you know how happy you’ve made me?” He asked, a gentle smile gracing his lips like no other. 

“No, not really,” You managed to force out, your voice wavering from all the tears you choked down. “I have no idea what I’m doing. Please send help.”

Behind Thoma, Taroumarou put a paw over his eyes as if he couldn’t bear to watch (well in his defense, you wouldn’t have wanted to watch this either.) But Thoma did not cringe, no— he threw back his head and laughed.

His was a light, airy laugh that sang of freedom, of joy, and of release; this was the laughter of a boy who’d been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders but was finally released from everything that had been holding him back. It was the joy of a young man who now knew that there was no need for him to hide any longer, that the truth of his heart was one reciprocated.

And then when he finished laughing, he gave you a smile that said, 'Don't worry. I'll help you, no matter how many times it'll take.'

Your hands trembled, your nails digging into your palms as you struggled to process what he just said. 

You were… messy. Inconvenient. A violent delinquent who couldn’t control your temper, someone who pushed away affection at every opportunity and ran away when confronted with your emotions. So why did he keep reaching for you? What about you made Thoma want to keep coming back?

“I’m not perfect either, you know.” Thoma smiled ruefully, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get stressed out when I can’t live up to everyone’s expectations of me, and I can’t tell when I’m allowed to say no and be myself. But I’ve learned a lot, all thanks to you.”

Why are you the one saying that to me? You’ve taken the words out of my mouth, you wanted to cry out. Unfair, unfair, unfair.

“It always feels like home when I’m with you. Studying with you, eating with you— even if it’s just walking with you, I feel like I’ve finally come home.” He continued, fiddling with the hem of his shirt nervously. “Even if I feel nervous and unsure of myself, at the same time I’ve never felt safer. And it sounds rather selfish, but… I want to be able to give you that same sanctuary.” 

The leaves fell to the ground silently, all the world quiet as if holding its breath to hear your response; Thoma shifted nervously, clearly more flustered than you’d ever seen him before.

His flush deepened. “If- if you’d let me, of course. Is it okay if I keep doing that, even when we’re old and grey?”

The tight, uncomfortable feeling in your chest suddenly released without warning, and your weary heart cried out in relief. You didn’t have to run away anymore.

You… didn’t have to run away anymore.

There was no reason for you to swallow your feelings down till they bloomed in your lungs like poisonous flowers; no, there had never been any reason for you to suffer in silence at all. You had worried for nothing when apparently he had always, always been looking at you– all this time you had been someone special to him, someone more than a funny sidekick or someone to set him up for his next character arc.

Tears ran down your face undisturbed, the warmth reminding you that this— all of this, was real. Thoma was real. 

(And there was also that obnoxious little part of your brain screaming “VICTORYYYYYYYY!!!!” at the top of its lungs, so yes, this was definitely real. You would never have daydreamt that annoying shriek up, whether deliberately or not.)

Your legs ached to run away once more— but not away from Thoma, for the first time in this entire time period of knowing him and liking him. You wanted to run towards him and be caught up in his arms – or catch him up in yours – and cry. Or laugh. Or anything would do, just as long as it was with him and him alone. You wanted to make up for all the times you ran away from his sincerity out of fear, mistaken his kindness for some ulterior motive thanks to your never-ending paranoia.

Let’s go home, whispered your prodigal heart.

 

"Wait, stay there." Your voice trembled. "You're always the one who comes to find me. This time- this time…”

I want to be the one who goes to you.

His eyes widened slightly in confusion, but the puppy-boy nodded in acknowledgement.

Taking a shaky breath, you eyed the wide stretch of asphalt that stood between you and Thoma— a divide that you had put there in the first place, but who was to say that you couldn’t remove it?

Your foot trembled as you took one faltering step forward, planting your shoe in the center of one white stripe of the crosswalk. Courage, that was all you needed.

I’m not good enough for him, said a nasty, hateful inner voice. Three steps and not a single reply, for such folly was beneath your attention.

This won’t work out, said another. You ignored it and took another two steps forward.

I don’t deserve to be loved like this. Ouch, that one hurt— four steps forward, because you were feeling petty.

He waited patiently, just as he always did; the fading sunlight danced in his eyes of emerald, dazzling your world with the light of a thousand unshed tears. For a moment you remembered an old film based on a true story, one that told of a loyal dog who also sat and waited for someone special in his life.

You’re almost home now, said the look in Thoma’s eyes. Don’t give up yet, please, please, please.

A small part of you sighed and wondered what you had become— someone who was practically wrapped around the finger (the paw?) of an insolent puppy-boy, a reserved individual whose heart melted and now yearned for someone who shone like the sun. Realistically, you could have just run away once more and avoided dealing with this.

But the reason why it was called falling in love was because it meant that the other person would catch you, knowing that you would do exactly the same for them. And you wanted to become someone who could do exactly that for Thoma.

You prayed for strength, for bravery to see this through to the end; if you wanted to be that person for Thoma, then you would need courage. No matter how many times your legs trembled on this road, no matter how many people tried to tell you this and that, you could not run away. You didn’t want to run away this time.

One step, two steps— just a little further, you told yourself. You just needed a little more courage to brave your journey to its end. 

One last step forward, and you held your breath, hardly daring to breathe as you allowed him to envelop you in warmth. A part of you still wondered if it was a dream, but that faint, familiar scent of laundry soap, the unprecedented warmth that bubbled up in your throat… you could never have dreamt that up in a thousand lifetimes.

“…I’m here, Thoma.” Your voice trembles ever so slightly.

He smiles and buries his face into the crown of your head, stroking your hair with a tenderness that you now knew was reserved only for you. “Welcome home.”

From a distance, Taroumarou watched as his subordinates embraced in a mess of tears, a satisfied almost-smile on his fluffy face. This entire ordeal had been ridiculously drawn out and could’ve been avoided if they had just communicated properly, but… the Boss Dog supposed that all was well if it ended well. You could only be a pup once, and as long as his subordinates were happy, then he was satisfied too.

#tellerluna.tales: to find a home in your heart #tellerluna.rkive: genshin #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #thoma #thoma genshin impact #genshin impact thoma #thoma scenarios #thoma imagines #thoma headcanons #thoma fluff #thoma angst #thoma x reader #thoma x you #thoma x y/n #thoma x gn reader #thoma x gender neutral reader

[tellerluna-stories]

episode 06: the puppy-boy bites back!

CONTENTS: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. m.list!

TW/CW: mentions of violence. manipulative and entitled behaviour but from neither of the main characters.

A/N: I have returned, with eyebags aplenty and an extra chapter for the readers who didn't give up on this fic for some reason. thank u for waiting :((

“What’s on your mind?”

Thoma mirrored your pose, resting his head on top of his desk and gazing at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes; as usual, his hair flopped to the side like a pair of puppy-dog ears, giving him the appearance of a lounging golden retriever.

“Nothing much.” A smile made its way to your face in spite of yourself— the effect of a puppy-boy, no less. “Just wondering why everyone has been looking at me funny. It’s been quite a while now.”

Perhaps it was because of the bandages that still adorned your arms, or the new rumours that now surrounded you wherever you went, but you now had the reputation of a cold-hearted delinquent who ruthlessly picked fights with anyone who dared challenge you. Some whispered that you had done so to valiantly protect the honour of Thoma, but all good intentions were easily washed away in the sea of misinformation that was a school campus.

Well, you had to admit it was better to be feared than to be ridiculed, because at least people gave you a wide berth in the hallways. Now you never had to worry about getting squished to death during the rush for freshly-baked bread in the cafeteria.

“They’re jealous of you, that’s what.” He whispered back, giving you a goofy smile. “Not everyone gets to sport the cool bandage look like you do.”

“I look like I have eighth-grader syndrome.”

“Well I think it’s cool.” Thoma declared with an air of finality as he reached for your hands. “And I also think they're looking a little loose, so let me check them for you.”

You reluctantly allowed him to take your hands in his, ignoring the chills that surged down your arms as his fingers ghosted over your bandages. They were already healing nicely, so why did he insist on checking them every day?

“Just as I suspected.” Your (very clueless) puppy-nurse clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. “I did tell you not to flail around too much— if you keep doing that they’re going to come off and leave the wounds exposed.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? I hold a pencil and the whole thing falls off.”

“Then just hold still and let me fix it for you. I’ll keep fixing these no matter how many times it takes.” 

Your traitorous heart jumped into your throat and nearly caused you to choke on your spit; it would be wise if someone told Thoma to not spew out such embarrassing lines out of the blue, because even the stoniest of hearts would quiver at such cheesy words. 

(But in reality, you knew that it only had this effect on you because of the person who was saying it. Stupid puppy-boy.)

“Is Thoma here?”

Said an unfamiliar voice, causing everyone’s heads to snap to its source; a stranger hovered in the doorway, obstructing the path of practically everyone who might’ve wanted to enter the classroom. She was a fairly pretty girl, with shiny, well-kept hair and sparkling eyes— if you had actually remembered to pay attention to other people, you might’ve identified her as one of the more popular students in one of the other classes.

Her shining eyes fixated on the puppy-boy beside you, who was fiddling with your bandages with an adorable frown on his face; in turn, everyone’s gazes followed suit to stare at Thoma. The weight of their gazes made you squirm.

“Psst.” You nudged him with your foot. “Someone’s looking for you.”

“I’m almost done, wait…” He only scrunched up his face even further, practically burying his face into the palms of your hands as he tucked a loose end away. You almost died right then and there.

“Thoma, I don’t think she can wait.”

Meanwhile the girl had invited herself in, slipping between the rows of desks with a natural grace; silently she made her way to where you and Thoma sat… and then she proceeded to stand there, radiating the most intimidating aura that you’d ever seen a person emit.

“Thoma.” You hissed, nudging him even harder this time. “Hurry up.”

Something sharp and intense practically bored itself into the back of your head, and you looked up to see a pair of slightly puffy eyes looking down on you; somehow, it felt like she was looking down on you in more ways than one. 

The girl rapped lightly on the top of Thoma’s desk, finally catching his attention. He looked up just in time for her to ask, “Could I speak to you after school?” 

You nearly kicked Thoma from the sheer straightforwardness of her question.

Was this the famed after-school confession that you’d only heard about? Back when you had been counseling regularly, this method of confessing was one of the most preferred by your clients due to its convenience. There was less chance of getting interrupted by class activities or watchful teachers, and behind the football field was a popular place to confess to the one you admired. 

(Hey, even if you hadn’t directly advised confessions, it was hard not to hear about all the romance-gossip that people liked to spew.)

“I- well…” Thoma’s eyes flickered briefly to meet yours, a faint shadow passing over his face.

“You don’t have to, but if you can…” The pretty girl’s voice faltered, and her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her uniform. “Please- please meet me behind the football field.”

Yep, it definitely was an after-school confession.

And on that note she left, leaving the classroom erupting in cheers as your classmates all congratulated Thoma. 

But somehow you couldn’t shake the uneasiness that hung over you like a dark cloud, weighing over your shoulders like an anchor wrapped in chains. The unpleasant look she had given you was one thing you could easily brush aside, but as for Thoma…

He fidgeted uneasily in his seat, awkwardly smiling as he received congratulations all around. Surely it wasn’t the first time he had received such a request, so why did he look so… uncomfortable? Everyone seemed approving of the situation, and even you had to admit that he looked good together with that girl.

One of your seatmates shoved Thoma by the shoulder playfully, muffled cheers of both awe and jealousy echoing in your ears like a distant dream— it was then that the realisation hit you like a bolt from the blue.

It was as if everyone expected him to automatically accept the confession of a pretty girl simply because he was 'Everyone's Thoma', a pretty face who was destined for a stellar life. A perfect girl who was perfectly suited for a perfect boy, a perfect couple who were both absolutely ideal in every way possible.

(Ah, why did those words taste so bitter in your mouth?) 

Anyway, it didn't matter whether Thoma wanted this path or not, because as long as he had the title worthy of a protagonist, everyone would be watching him… and just waiting to pounce on him once they deemed he had fallen from their good graces. He would be judged if he turned down a blessing such as this, and he would be judged if he accepted it.

“Thoma…” Subconsciously you reached out for his sleeve, but something stopped your fingers before they could— at this point, you weren’t even sure if you had the right to ask him if he was alright. 

You weren’t someone who was blind to the hierarchy of this world; in terms of social standing, you were currently at the very bottom of the food chain. Perhaps a highschool match-maker would have had better chances of being viewed as an acceptable side character to Thoma’s role as protagonist, but a delinquent, on the other hand… who were you, to drag him down with you? 

“Did you say something?” His gaze flicked to you; the way those angelic eyes lit up made you squirm with guilt. Maybe those people were right, after all. 

“Nah, it wasn’t anything important.” Your fingers curled into a tight fist, digging into your palms and leaving crescent-moon marks of shame— greedy Icarus, to reach for the heavens. You of all people did not deserve to stand with the sun, no matter how much hope kindled in your heart for such a dream. “Are you going to go see her?”

A smile worked its way up Thoma’s face, but this one was different; it was not his usual honey-sweet smile, forged from gold and sunshine eternal. This smile was of bitter resignation, the realisation that he never would truly be free from the expectations weighing down on his shoulders. You wanted to wipe that bitter smile from his face in an instant, even if you had to use your very lips to do so.

Sorry, what? said the small, intrusive part of your brain. Didn’t hear that last part clearly.

No, you told yourself firmly. This sick, unpleasant feeling that twisted in your gut like an angry snake was certainly not jealousy, and you were not going to let this or your own personal feelings get to your head and possibly ruin your friendship with Thoma. You were going to be fine and wish him the best with a smile on your face, and whatever outcome he chose, you would support him— that was what Thoma needed right now, and that was all you were going to do.

“Oy, Thoma.” Your voice cracked slightly. “Don’t… don’t let yourself be a piece of bread anymore.”

He gave you a look, and you suddenly realised what you had just said.

Was that seriously the best you could do?! You screamed internally, suppressing the urge to bash your head against the nearest wall— not even something comprehensive, like ‘I support whatever decision you make’ or ‘Follow your heart’?

Emerald-green eyes stared at you unwaveringly for one heart-beat, two heart-beats… and then the bitterness in Thoma’s smile disappeared, melting away like a bad dream as he broke into a real smile. “Again with the bread?”

Heat flooded to your face. “I- Well, in my defense—“

“Don’t worry, I understand what you’re talking about.” For the first time, you noticed the faint dimples on his cheeks as Thoma grinned even wider. “But even if I’m not bread, I’m still a snack, right?”

“…Shut it.”

Your heart throbbed painfully as he laughed, and part of you wondered if you had done the right thing. Reminding him that he had the freedom to choose was one thing, but could you really support him if he chose something that you did not like? Were you selfish enough to turn away if he didn’t choose you? The rolling, unpleasant feeling from earlier returned, simmering in the pit of your stomach as you thought of that pretty girl and her shining, disdainful eyes— oh, how you desperately hoped that you would never have to suffer through the pain of making such a choice. 

It wasn’t her fault she was pretty, nor was it your classmates fault for pairing her up with Thoma… but why did you feel this way?

You swallowed hard, devouring any feelings that might overstep the boundaries of your friendship; it wouldn’t matter if a garden flourished in your lungs from all the times you swallowed your blooming emotions. And he smiled away, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

“Well, I suppose I can’t run away from things forever.” 

He leaned back in his chair and stretched, pushing his notebooks to where you could reach them. “I’ll just be out for a minute, but I’ll be back for you.”

I’ll be back for you…?

Before you knew it, a warm, ticklish sensation landed on the top of your head— Thoma’s eyes softened as he ruffled your hair, his fingers tracing briefly against the curve of your cheek as he pulled away all too soon. You could only stare mutely as he slipped out of the classroom, taking every colour in your world with him.

Time seemed to pass slowly without Thoma by your side.

The perfect-attendance student who never skipped a single class was missing from the classroom, with no hints as to where he had gone. From the reactions of everyone else in your class, they were just as equally in the dark about the matter as you were. 

You told yourself it didn’t matter; it wasn’t like you weren’t used to being alone in the first place. You’d simply return to the same old routine as before.

But deep down you knew that it did matter to you.

Somehow your world had become muted, the colours dull and lifeless wherever you looked; everything was mechanically routine, a dull blur of ordinary life that felt so empty. Open your notebook, write down what the teacher was saying, then open your textbook to highlight the sections that were to be studied for today. Line up your pencils and pens into a straight line next to your eraser, with the ruler placed across the front of the desk like a nameplate. Your free periods were spent just as you had always wanted— in peace and quiet, and alone. 

It was as if Thoma had never existed in your life in the first place; there were no conversations brimming with laughter during free period, no passing of little notes when the teacher’s back was turned. When lunchtime came, no-one came to drag you to the rooftop and feed you home-cooked food with his own chopsticks. Was this really what your life had been like before you met Thoma?

If so, how truly miserable, you thought ruefully. By the time the last bell rang, it had already sunk in how truly alone you were without him, and you loathed yourself for feeling that way. Somewhere along the line, that puppy-boy had wormed his way into your life and now you were left with an aching heart when he wasn’t around. How wonderfully pathetic.

Your grip tightened on the straps of your backpack as you marched out of the classroom, hyper-aware of all the eyes that followed you as you left. They all probably thought you were pathetic, too.

Where was he? 

“Yo, have any of you seen where Thoma went?” One student asked loudly, intimidating everyone in the classroom with his extreme height and bright red eyeliner that was almost certainly against the dress-code. Next to him, a tall girl with dark bobbed hair tutted, smacking the top of his head with a rolled-up sheaf of papers. “Lower your voice, Crimson Idiot.”

“I didn’t ask you, Bird-brain.”

You ignored their squabbling and listened closely to the people around you, fishing for any info on where Thoma might’ve been. Seriously, how hard was it to find one puppy-boy?

“…Probably headed for behind the football field……”

“Isn’t that where people confess?”

“So that girl from earlier…”

Your gaze fixed on Thoma’s backpack, lying where he had left it. Perhaps you were just projecting, but it looked almost as lonely as you felt without him— and thus an idea sprung to mind.

Gritting your teeth, you swung what must have been at least fifty tons of overpriced educational material onto your back and stalked out of the classroom, ignoring the stares of your classmates. Get the backpack to Thoma, you chanted to yourself. Go behind the football field to see what’s really going on. But not because you were jealous or anything like that.

Find Thoma and bring him his backpack.

Go behind the football field and figure out what was happening.

FInd Thoma, because anything— anything would be better than this dull, lifeless world. Anything would be better than holding this ball of nauseating jealousy and insecurity in your stomach. For all you knew, he actually might’ve liked that girl, but- but…

You tightened your grip on his backpack straps, grounding your reality with the feeling of rough fabric against your trembling fingertips. It was time to get a move on.

Filled with a reckless bravery that was most unlike yourself, you had set off on another journey, similar to the journeys you had taken before. But this one was not a quest for delicious fresh-baked goods-- it was a quest to seek out a fair-haired prince who might or might not need rescuing.

Oh, and while lugging what must’ve been the world’s heaviest backpack in tow.

Flinging down the backpack with the last of your strength, you practically collapsed against the nearest wall and heaved for air— oxygen, sweet oxygen, don’t abandon this poor soul just yet.

You’d hauled Thoma’s bag all over the school as you checked all of the places he might’ve been, running upstairs and downstairs in search of one very elusive puppy-boy. Maybe it would’ve been wiser to just go straight to the football field and wait for him there, but there was no guarantee he was even going to be there if you had looked there first. 

(And you had ended up dragging that bag everywhere only to end up at the final destination anyway— that is, behind the football field.)

Even if it was an inanimate object, the offending backpack was not spared from the venomous glare you shot its way; you made a mental note to teach Thoma a couple of things, such as packing light for school, or the magic of digital textbooks. Maybe you’d even teach him the forbidden knowledge of free textbook websites— anything just so that he’d stop hauling around the Library of Alexandria in his backpack.

“-excuse me, but…”

The faint sound of voices brought you out of your self-induced misery, hushed tones coming from right around the corner; one the soft notes of a girl’s voice, and the other a very, very familiar way of barking– speaking. You pressed close to the wall, straining your ears to catch any words that he might be saying.

“You’re the friend of the girl who came to my classroom the other day, right?” Yep, that voice was definitely a puppy-boy’s.

Your curiosity (nosiness) got the better of you, and you dove into a nearby bush in order to camouflage your presence. You couldn’t see much with all the branches in the way, but you could at least make out Thoma standing with his back to you, a slight slouch in his posture and his hands shoved in his pockets.

…Weird.

You frowned slightly; for as long as you had known him, he had always stood with perfectly upright posture wherever he went, even to the point of nagging you about your own horrendous slouch. Now seemed like an odd time to be hypocritical.

“Ah, yes, that’s me…” Slouch or no slouch, the girl still blushed at the sight of Thoma, fanning her face with one hand. “Thank you for meeting me out here today.”

"Is what she said true— that you have feelings for me?"

Your heart caught itself in your throat; even though you absolutely hated to admit it, they looked good together. Two upright main characters in a world of their own, the perfect confession scene set up and the sidekick (yours truly) sitting in the bushes till your legs cramped over to death. And of course she’d have feelings for him, too– even you weren't immune to his charms, something which still made you want to pull your hair out every time you thought of it. 

She blushed even more and hid her face behind her hands, mumbling some response that you couldn't quite catch… but from her body language, the answer was most likely a yes. Of course it would be a yes.

“...I see.” His jaw tensed, and you suddenly noticed why he had been holding his hands in his pockets this whole time— for the entire conversation, Thoma had had his hands balled into fists.

What was going on here?

You clamped a hand over your mouth to suppress an ugly shriek— calm down, calm down, he didn’t seem to be postured to actually throw hands with some random girl. He wasn’t the type to start fights, anyway.

(All the same, you stole a guilty glance at your bandaged hands and mentally begged for forgiveness from his parents. Thoma was far too kind-hearted to actually hit someone, but still… sorry for being a bad influence on your son!)

Blissfully unaware, the girl coyly peeked through her fingers and smiled at him; it was clear that she was waiting for the “right” response to her confession, a perfect fairy-tale ending to this scene if this had been a rom-com film. But on the other hand, you weren’t so sure if Thoma was in the same genre…

His fist released slightly, the sound of a soft exhale barely audible over the background noise. “Frankly speaking, I…”

You waited with bated breath, every nerve tingling as Thoma paused to think over his next words. Your rival– er, the other girl also eagerly awaited his response, her eyes shining with anticipation through her fingers. 

“...I’m not too fond of people who twist the truth for their own convenience.” 

The blood chilled in your veins, freezing to a sudden stand-still from the sudden temperature drop.

At the same time, the smile froze onto the girl’s face. “Pardon?”

“Oh, I think that you and I both know what I’m talking about here. There have been some strange rumours flying around, and, well…” Thoma’s voice was light and easy-going once again, as if the sudden coldness had never existed in the first place. He very well could have been discussing what he had just had for lunch, or his plans for after school.

“...Well, rumours are just rumours, right?” She gave a nervous laugh, the sound of footsteps echoing against the asphalt as she stepped back. The branches rustled conspicuously as you squinted through the foliage– you couldn’t get a good view of the conversation if she kept fidgeting around and away from where you could see her. 

“I certainly agree with that statement,” He replied. “But rumours cause more problems if they’re not taken care of– why, I heard that a fight broke out recently because of a small misunderstanding.”

“Oh, my. That- that sounds awful, really…”

“It really is! What a horrible incident, too.”

Thoma shook his head ruefully, crossing his arms in a less-than-friendly manner; the girl nearly stumbled as she backed away, her smile twisting as her nerves began to show through. “Someone I hold very dear to me got hurt because of this, and the worst thing is that I can’t even find out who spread such dreadful lies.”

Was Thoma still hung up on that? You frowned– you could’ve sworn that you told him to let it be. And he was the one telling you not to be offended by things on his behalf. Hypocrite.

“I don’t take very kindly to such things, especially when it involves the safety of the people I care about.” A beat, before he continued, “You understand what I mean, right?”

“...Yes.”

“Really? I’m so glad to hear that.” A light, airy chuckle fills the air. “In that case… why did you spread those rumours?”

Silence. Fabric rustled as Thoma shifted his weight back to presumably look her in the eye. You did not want to know what sort of face he was making (okay, maybe you did. But just a little bit.)

“Ah- I think… I think you may have misunderstood something here. You may have mistaken me for someone else—”

“Oh, but I happened to hear a different story.” He seethed— no, growled would have been a more fitting description, though by some miracle Thoma still barely managed to keep a semblance of politeness. “The chemistry club, the president of the astronomy club… even the head of the student council and Ms. Minci herself. They all heard someone going around telling people about poor, innocent Thoma being manipulated by some troublemaker who kept hanging around him. Does that sound familiar, by any chance?”

Dread and ill-omen rolled off of Thoma in waves; this… was no puppy-boy, you realised.

(At this point you took a moment to pause and contemplate your life choices, because seeing him all riled up was making your heart skip in weird ways that were probably mildly concerning.)

This was a fully-grown, trained guard dog equipped with the knowledge of hunting and military training, and he was angry; the girl who stood so tall and proud only a few moments before now looked like a mouse cowering before a predator, looking for a way to run. You suddenly came to the bone-chilling realisation of how intimidating of an opponent Thoma actually was, considering the vast amount of connections he had and what sort of information — or favours — he managed to earn with the sheer power of puppy-politeness… all while he was still a student. 

It was enough for you to consider turning tail and fleeing, and you weren’t even the target of his anger— and it didn’t help that you were also pretty sure he was holding back.

(Wait, surely this couldn't be your fault, right? You had told him to let him live for himself, but then again you'd expected something like ‘Hey, please don't do that anymore, thanks’ and not… whatever this was. No amount of heart-racing could justify you being a bad influence, no matter how handsome he looked when absolutely royally pissed off.) 

“Like you said, rumours are just rumours. By themselves they don’t necessarily cause trouble, which really makes me curious…” Thoma’s voice dropped, lowering to a tone which you might’ve mistaken for almost friendly if you hadn’t known him better. “Do you mind telling me what you said to your friend that made her start a fight?”

“I… I didn’t tell her to do anything for me. She was the one who–”

“But I’m sure you knew that she would do that for you if you were really that close with her, right? If you fed her just the right information, she would go ballistic for you just because you’re her friend.” 

Silence once again, and Thoma clicked his tongue ruefully. “She might be a little hot-headed, but she’s certainly a loyal friend. You should treasure the friends you have while you still have them.”

“Thoma, please- please understand… I...” She stammered out. “I was- My friend made a mistake! She gets mixed up sometimes, it’s really not–“

“I’m really not the person you should be explaining that to.” His voice was dangerously soft. “I’m not the one who was directly affected by your actions.”

Now there was really no way for this girl to escape, now that all of her plans had been exposed– after manipulating the people around her with her words and throwing her classmate under the bus, you could only wonder: just how far was she willing to go for this? How low was she willing to sink for a stranger who she probably barely knew?

“Why do you care so much?” She spat; now she was changing tactics, going from blame-shifting to being defensive. You had to admit that in spite of the amount of secondhand embarrassment this was giving you, it was somewhat fascinating to witness such a fine example of how the human mind works when put in difficult situations— but also unfortunately for you, the secondhand embarrassment was far from over.

“Because it's not right. I…” A sigh of frustration, a rustle as Thoma reached up to rub his temples. “Look, it’s really that simple. You just need to apologise and stop doing what you’re doing right now. Can’t you see that people are suffering because of your actions?”

“Why should I? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

A tiny ladybug crawled past on a nearby branch, slowing as it drew nearer to you. It probably was wondering what was happening; it was unusual to find three strange humans here, two of whom were having a telenovela-worthy quarrel outside while the third crouched in the bushes to eavesdrop.

It gave you a questioning look, to which you responded with a shrug. Don’t look at me, I’m just the eavesdropping sidekick here.

“I was just expressing my concern for you, that’s all! I know you have a tendency to be taken advantage of—”

“You don’t know me.” Thoma’s voice became only quieter, barely above a murmur at this point. “You hardly know anything about me.”

Ooh, ouch.

Both you and the ladybug flinched on her behalf; true, she was acting weirdly entitled to him, but still… hearing that from him would sting, and not just a little bit.

(On another note, at least you knew that Thoma was definitely someone straight out of a telenovela— maybe a heartthrob-student-by-day, mafia-boss-by-night type of main character? Either way, you really should've brought popcorn for this.)

“I’m sure you’re a nice person, really… but we hardly know each other enough to warrant this sort of behaviour from you. If you were my friend or my classmate, perhaps, but…”

“So what?” She snapped. “Why does it matter who likes you? Is it so wrong for me to do that?”

“That is not what I said.”

“But why is it okay for that little friend of yours to cling to you like a leech?” A harsh, disbelieving laugh fills the air. “What, don’t tell me you have a crush on that- that—“

The girl continued laughing, but Thoma remained oddly quiet. Something twisted in your gut like a knife– she was referring to you, like it was some sort of joke that he would ever like you. A part of you wanted to agree with her.

“...Yeah, I do.” 

He paused a beat. “Why do you say it like it’s a bad thing?”

You nearly face-planted into the dirt as you clapped both hands over your mouth, just barely suppressing the unseemly shriek that you almost let out.

No, you couldn’t possibly have misheard him this time. You’d heard him loud and clear. 

“...What?”

“You heard me the first time.” His voice was clear and firm. “I wasn’t lying when I said that, so why do you look like you don’t believe me?”

“You- you’re kidding, right? Very funny, Thoma, but–” 

“I wouldn’t joke about such a thing. That’s just cruel.”

Meanwhile, you were very close to becoming the person to ever successfully shapeshift into an earthworm and bury yourself in the ground while those two were duking it out. The ladybug watched as you went through the five stages of grief in under a minute, offering its silent support in your hour of suffering– at least, you assumed it was offering its support. For all you knew, it might’ve found it enjoyable to watch your emotional turmoil for the sheer drama.

“Liar!” Her voice was sharp, the faintest hint of tears showing its edge through her words. “You just feel sorry for that loner, right? Thoma, I know you can do so much better than that—”

(In the midst of your agony, your eye twitched– oh, for goodness’ sake, this one was even more delusional than her best friend Panda-Eyes. Where had they even gotten the idea that they knew what was best for Thoma despite barely knowing him? And to top it all off, she sounded so desperately sure of herself that it made you want to melt into compost right then and there.)

“Thank you for having my best interests in mind, but I think I do a better job of deciding what’s best for me.” Thoma cut her off firmly, leaving no room for argument. 

Thick, heavy silence settled over like a dismal fog; neither party wanted to speak. Until…

“It’s not fair…” You caught a glimpse of shine as her shoes shuffled forward, her voice eerily quiet. “It’s not fair at all.”

“...Pardon?”

“What did I do?” Thoma was shoved backwards, and those shiny patent shoes continued marching towards him. “Tell me, where did I go wrong?”

“I don’t know—”

“Tell me!” The girl nearly shouted, her voice cracking and breaking down. “I was the one who cared ever since the beginning, Thoma. I was the one who took on all sorts of tasks so that you wouldn’t suffer so much. So why… why isn’t it me?”

You held your breath, hardly daring to move a muscle.

“Why is it some nobody who won’t even notice you until it’s too late?” She murmured– an unpleasant chill went down your spine when you realised she was talking about you. “I did everything, but…”

Even in the heat of your anger, there came a fleeting moment when you almost felt sorry for her in this pathetic state; from all of your counselling, you knew how difficult it was to muster the courage to stand before the person you liked. 

No, you corrected yourself. That wasn't quite right, because it wasn’t just from your counselling— you now had firsthand experience thanks to Thoma. To like someone so much that you started to behave irrationally, to leave your comfort zone and cross over into unknown territory just so you could walk their path with them— there were many beautiful, colourful memories that you had gained just from staying by his side. It was only natural that this girl would want to experience that too, even if she went about the wrong way to try and achieve it.

(Now, since when did you ever become this empathetic?)

For a moment, you wondered if you'd have done the same thing if you had been in her place; in a twisted sense, the two of you had been two sides of the same coin, both yearning for the same person in different ways. You knew nothing about who she was or what she did, but for a moment— just this moment — you pitied her. 

A loud, hiccuping sob interrupted your train of thought; the girl raised her head unsteadily, covering her face with one hand. The other hand raised itself in the air to harshly shove Thoma backwards, his shoes scraping against the ground as he tried to steady himself.

Did she just…?

That white-hot sensation from the other day reappeared, searing even brighter right behind your eyeballs and burning any semblance of pity you might’ve had for her; unconsciously, your bandaged hands curled into fists once again.

“Hey– wait just a second here.” Thoma’s voice sounded strained. “You don’t look so good. Are you–”

“Don’t touch me!” You flinched at the sharp sound of skin hitting skin, and once again he stumbled backwards. Through the leaves you could barely make out her silhouette as she raised her hand ready to strike again— and suddenly everything seared blinding white.

“Enough.”

Leaves rustled and scattered about you, the afternoon sunlight flashing in your eyes enough to leave you dazzled– in a blur, you barely registered the gaping looks of shock that met your gaze. Something warm struggled in your grasp, your nails digging into the unidentified object by instinct; apparently you had launched yourself out of the bushes and caught her hand just as it was about to hit his face, a flurry of leaves and flower petals showering around you in a horribly dramatic entrance.

Your first realisation was that you were very glad nobody else was around, or else you might’ve had the unfortunate experience of having your dramatic entrance caught on video. The second realisation was that you were very displeased with the idea that someone had actually just tried to hit Thoma— not on your watch, not now and not ever.

All the bitterness seeped into your voice and turned your words into a frigid cold. "If you have such a problem with me, then face me instead of taking it out on someone else like a coward."

Two pairs of eyes stared at you, completely stunned– Thoma could only gape at you in shock as you trudged forward to plant yourself in between him and the other party, a grumpy look on your face as you crossed your arms. Meanwhile, the offender in question stared at you with frightened, wary eyes, tears still dripping down her face like a leaking faucet.

“You…”

“Yep. It’s definitely me.” You replied, eye twitching as you desperately tried to restrain yourself from jumping her. If she was so keen on painting you as a violent delinquent, then congratulations! She was about to get her wish.

“Why– why are you here?” Thoma choked out, his jaw hanging slack as he gaped at you in shock— well, to be fair, you had literally just launched out of the shrubbery like some sort of vegan jack-in-the-box. You couldn't really blame him for staring.

“Oh, I was just passing by and saw something going on. Thought it looked like some fun violent activity that a troublemaker would enjoy.” You managed to muster the most bubblegum-flavoured, saccharine-sweet voice that your raging temper could allow, allowing yourself to give a side-eye to the girl in front of you. Look, you could only pity her so much— you could understand where she was coming from, but that didn't mean you agreed with what she was doing right now.

“You.”

She jumped nearly a foot in the air.

"What kind of head do you have screwed on your shoulders, huh?" You asked, the bitter edge of a taunt revealing itself through your words. "'I did everything for him, so only I have the right to monopolise his feelings.' It doesn't matter how Thoma feels about the matter— no, no, it's all about you and how you feel."

Sick satisfaction washed over your senses as her lower lip began to tremble once more, tears welling up in her shiny eyes— but then again, it was best to nip feelings like that in the bud. It was never good to attempt to resolve conflict by viewing the other party as your enemy, and from the beginning your goal had never been to hurt this girl.

Restrain yourself, said the slightly more rational part of your brain. Do not hold back on your honesty, but if only for Thoma’s sake, no more and no less than that.

For Thoma’s sake, you begrudgingly agreed. Even if you were reasonably pissed and just wanted to go home in peace.

“I– look.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed, wondering where to even begin. “"You might not see it now, but what you’re doing is hurting him more than anyone else. Can’t you see that?" 

The girl’s eyes wavered, teary pools of resentment and anger glaring at you hard enough to bury you six feet under. You hesitated for a minute— you had so many things to say to her, so much advice to give from all your experience as a bonafide relationship counselor. But would she even receive it from you?

But once again– for Thoma’s sake and his alone, you gritted your teeth and continued anyway. If doing this would ensure him a better future where he didn’t have to worry about his boundaries, then so be it.

"Why don’t you believe him?” You ask bluntly. “Has Thoma ever given anyone in this school any reason to doubt him?”

“Never!” She shot back.  

“Then why don’t you trust him?” The back of your eyes sear white as you try to keep your cool, your grip instinctively tightening over Thoma’s hand. “The entire conversation you had just now was just you calling him a liar or trying to prove him wrong. If you like him so much, then why don’t you believe in him?”

She opened her mouth, but no response came out.

It was a tough lesson for her to learn, but putting down other people and trampling on their lives was never going to win over someone's heart. No matter how good your intentions were or how earnest your feelings were, if the recipient was not ready or willing to accept your feelings, then it would never work out.

“Trust is an important part of every relationship, but if you can’t even believe him when he clearly states his boundaries, then you’re already setting yourself up for failure.” For the first time that day, your logic returned to you as you switched to counselor mode. “If you really cared for him like you said, then you wouldn’t have to pull strings on the people around him so that he’d come to you like a dog on a leash.”

You must’ve rattled on and on as you listed down everything she did wrong, from using her friend like a pawn and throwing her under the bus, to disrespecting Thoma’s choices and treating him like a trophy instead of seeing him as a person with thoughts and feelings, to using her influence for ill-intent instead of trying to win him over with honesty and sincerity.  You kept going even though you were pretty sure her eyes had glazed ten times over and she had already cried multiple times, because one thing was certain; what this girl was doing was not out of love.

You knew this because love felt like… love was… 

Suddenly a soft warmth gently pried your clenched fist open, encircling your fingers with a sense of safety— you looked up to see Thoma mouth, ‘I’ll take it from here.’

As your gaze locked with his, everything clicked into place like a jigsaw puzzle, the picture becoming perfectly crystal-clear to your eyes.

Love is patient, and love is kind. 

Love is forgiving and welcoming, even at the times you felt dirtiest and most unlovable. It went beyond infatuation, which felt like a swarm of nervous butterflies that played push and pull with your emotions with hormone-infused strings— no, love felt safe and warm, like a fire crackling on the hearth of a home. To be loved and to love was to protect and to trust, to hope and persevere for the other person. Things that you and Thoma had already been doing for each other long before you had ever come to this conclusion.

And it scared you. 

The weight, the seriousness of it all… it terrified you to no end, because it meant that perhaps you were wrong about yourself. Perhaps you had been wrong all along and that you really were capable of experiencing love and romance— perhaps it had never been a question of if, but when.

“…Thank you for asking to meet me here today.” Thoma’s voice was quiet but serious, and the girl flinched a little at the sudden change in atmosphere. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more for you, but I hope you’ve fully grasped the situation now. Please don’t do this ever again.”

The finality of his tone was enough to get the point across.

Now stripped of her fangs, she nodded mutely, her eyes furtively glancing between the two of you— you still couldn’t entirely reconcile yourself with her actions, but at least she had the grace to accept the outcome without fuss. In the end, she was still just a girl with a broken heart.

“I… I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you. I really am.” The girl mumbled, giving a slight bow in apology. You watched as she walked away, the faint sound of her sniffling fading into the distance.

As soon as she was out of sight, his shoulders slumped; Thoma’s eyes slid wearily shut, his entire body deflating like a balloon as he practically leaned on you for support. Any traces of anger disappeared completely, slipping off his shoulders like water on a duck’s back.

He looked so… young. Vulnerable. 

With the way he was completely drained of energy after today’s events, you began to wonder if being angry was entirely out of his comfort zone– no, maybe that wasn’t the case. Maybe he wasn’t used to being angry for himself.

“...Should we report her to the teachers?”

“Maybe. I don’t know anymore.” He answered, leaning only further into you. “I’m just so… tired.”

The urge to reach for him returned, even stronger than before. Your fingers twitched and burned to nestle themselves in his soft, fluffy hair, to return the comfort that he always gave to you so freely. But like the coward you were, you didn’t dare– instead, you settled for giving his hand a tentative squeeze in reassurance.

Wait, his hand?!

Let’s try to recap! shouted the overly enthusiastic part of your brain. We managed to remove the problem of your rumours and confirm that Thoma does not like that girl! And we also managed to accomplish 10,000 steps in a day AND do some weight training, just by hauling his backpack all over the school! And in a surprise accomplishment, we also managed to confirm that Thoma… 

That he… that he…

You gaped at your intertwined fingers and looked back up at him, every nerve ending short-circuiting into a miniature fireworks shower as you struggled to process what had just happened. And judging from how a certain puppy-boy’s eyes had just snapped wide open to stare at you, he had also happened to arrive at the same conclusion you did.

“How long were you hiding in there?” Thoma’s face flushed tomato-red, his green eyes filled with something like panic or— gah, you couldn’t tell anymore. How could you tell what other people were feeling if you couldn’t even figure out your own problems? “No, wait— how much did you hear?”

“Well I… I, uh–”

You took one look at his pleading, anxious puppy-dog eyes, and at that point your brain broke from the strain. And so once again, you did the only thing you knew best when it came to situations like this: you ran away.

#tellerluna.tales: to find a home in your heart #tellerluna.rkive: genshin #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #thoma #thoma genshin impact #genshin impact thoma #thoma scenarios #thoma imagines #thoma headcanons #thoma fluff #thoma angst #thoma x reader #thoma x you #thoma x y/n #thoma x gn reader #thoma x gender neutral reader

[tellerluna-stories]

SAY SOMETHING STUPID (LIKE I LOVE YOU)

PAIRING: kaeya x reader

GENRE: fluff/crack, comedy. established relationship + modern AU!

TW/CW: intoxication and mentions of alcohol consumption, reader is a total featherweight. probably OOC. may contain secondhand embarassment for people who do not wish to remember the embarassing shenanigans they pulled when wasted

A/N: shoutout to everyone's favourite sunny-bunny @x-zho, who gave me the brilliant idea for this fic and is also the biggest!!!! kaeya kisser I know!!!!!!!! if you are ten and you are reading this, all I can say is.... ehe

also I'm trying a new format for fic titles so bear with me,,,, lmk which one looks better, the old font or the current style!

"You know, normally this situation is reversed," Kaeya calls out, but you appear to not have heard him. Well, given the state of your flushed face and the strong smell of alcohol that pervaded the air about you, he'd be surprised if you had understood him at all.

A soft, slightly off-key tune fills the chilly night air, hummed by none other than his truly— your legs swing busily as you perch on the edge of a nearby bench, mesmerised by the light of the street-lamp like you were some sort of oversized bug. Your face lights up as soon as he draws near, and one hand shoots up in the air to flail wildly (was that meant to be waving hello?)

Before he knows what's happening, something speeds over and hops all around him like a rabbit— it seems that you're only too happy to see Kaeya, inebriated as you are.

"Kae-ya! Kaeya, Kae-ya, 'ya..." Your voice is more high-pitched than normal, trailing off as you clap your hands merrily to the tempo of your little song. "Can I call you 'yaya? Is cute....."

Kaeya — or 'Yaya', as he has now been dubbed — stifles his laughter long enough for him to lead you back to the bench. "I think it's safe to assume you're a total lightweight."

Your arm looped in his (and your weight leaned entirely against him), you scrunch up your nose in annoyance. "Am not."

"Are too. You, little rabbit, are completely wasted."

"-'m not drunk." Your nose crinkles up even further and twitches like a bunny's. "And- and I'm not a light... a light....."

"...A lightweight?"

"Mm!" Now that your missing word had been found, you practically grin from ear-to-ear and flop over into his lap. "I'm not a light waiter."

(The four shot-glasses of heavily-diluted alcohol that you had downed begged to differ, sadly.)

Kaeya sucks in his breath between his teeth — don't laugh, Alberich, don't laugh — and decides that the best course of action is to stroke your hair; to calm you down, of course (though it's more for his own sanity than yours). On any other occasion he would have liked to retire and melt over you in private, but today he had the responsibility and privilege of taking care of you.

"Pretty, pretty eyes..." You interrupt Kaeya's train of thought with a soft murmur, reverently tracing your fingers along his face like he was a priceless work of art. "Starry, blueberry eyes— 'yaya's eyes are the prettiest in the world."

If Kaeya hadn't already been struggling enough before, everything now became ten times more difficult.

"You're really being unfair here." A small laugh escapes his lips, and Kaeya takes your face in his hands to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'll bring you some soup and hangover medicine tomorrow, alright? You're going to need it."

You nod enthusiastically, your rosy cheeks only heating up further in the palms of his hands— any hotter, and he was pretty sure you'd be melting into a puddle. Though it wouldn't be so bad if it meant that you melted into his arms.

"Am I pretty too, 'yaya?"

"Oh, but of course."

"Hehe." You beam infectiously, wriggling in delight like an overjoyed worm— heaven help him, he could only hold back his laughter for so long. "Okaaaaay... I believe you."

A glimmering of an idea springs to mind, and Kaeya brings out his cellphone in order to execute his master plan. "We should take a picture. Pretty people should take pretty pictures together."

"A pic-tuuuure....."

He tactfully resists the urge to have a breakdown from your adorable behaviour as you readily comply with his wishes, throwing up a couple of peace signs and posing for what was about to become his new phone wallpaper to show you tomorrow— surely, there was no luckier man on this earth than Kaeya Alberich himself.

He makes sure to take at least fifty more pictures, just in case. No harm in having more blackmail to tease you about.

"Yay!" You applaud enthusiastically once the impromptu photoshoot is finished, flopping back into Kaeya's lap with the stability of unsettled gelatin. "I have a pic-tuuuure with 'yaya!"

And there were those innocent eyes again, gazing up at him with such adoration that it made Kaeya's cheeks burn; yes, getting to capture this moment would be well worth whatever future scoldings he would receive from you.

"Silly rabbit," he remarks aloud, ruffling your hair affectionately.

"Not a rabbit...." You mumble softly.

"Really? I thought you looked just like one. See, here's one ear..." He tugs one tuft of your hair upwards to vaguely resemble a floppy ear, and then does the same for the other side. "And here's the other."

"If 'yaya says so, then it must be true..." By this time your eyelids had already fluttered shut, soothed by the soft motion as he stroked your hair. "But what're you, if... if...... I'm a bunny rabbit?"

"How about the big, bad wolf? One who loves teasing cute bunnies when they're all sleepy?"

You open your eyes suddenly, a sulky look on your face. "Do you know any other bunnies to tease...?"

Whoops, wrong move.

"No, no," Kaeya hastily backtracks. "This wolf only needs one bunny in his life. Wolves mate for life."

"Good..." You huff and yank the edge of his overcoat over your face. "You don't need any more."

Suddenly you jolt upright, your arms finding their place around his neck in a tight hug. Kaeya freezes for a moment, his breath catching in his lungs as his life flashes before his eyes— but thankfully, you were not in the right state of mind to give him a headlock.

Slowly, hesitantly, he returns your embrace.

"My 'yaya," You mumble softly, snuggling your face further into the crook of his neck.

"Yes," he agrees, smiling softly. "All yours."

You were probably going to kill him or die of embarassment once you sobered up, but well... Kaeya would enjoy the moment while it lasted.

#tellerluna.rkive: genshin #tellerluna.tales #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya genshin impact #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #kaeya scenarios #kaeya headcanons #kaeya x reader #kaeya x gender neutral reader #kaeya x gn reader #kaeya fluff #cw intoxication #cw alcohol #modern AU

[tellerluna-stories]

save the first dance for me.

PAIRING: diluc x reader

GENRE: slight angst with a fluffy ending! strangers to something more, perhaps?

TW/CW: mentions of alcohol and drinking. diluc does work in a tavern, after all...

A/N: this is a gift for my beloved sun @x-zho's unbirthday!!! pls check out her blog, you won't regret it <33 HAPPY UNBIRTHDAY TEN OUTTA TEN I HOPE U ENJOY THIS DRABBLE

also, this fanfic is inspired by this fanart I saw on tiktok and this song that I simply adore!!!!!! I've always associated this song with diluc and i just HAD to write something for him with this song AAAAAA

Raucous laughter and the clink of glasses ring throughout Angel’s Share, a round of cheers as its customers chugged down another round of alcohol to go with their mirth. It was the sound of a typical evening in Mondstadt, except that tonight was a special occasion held in honour of— you couldn’t remember what exactly.

Not that it would matter, since everyone would be too hungover to remember it in the morning.

The aroma of grape juice lingers on your tongue before melting away, the sour-sweet taste contrasting sharply with the bitterness that filled your mouth— attending events like these was already bad enough, but getting stood up by the people you were supposed to go with was even worse. They’d all begged and pleaded for you to come to this event, only to leave you stranded in an uncomfortably loud room with nobody you knew.

You take another sip of grape juice and grit your teeth, ignoring the twinge of pain that courses up your foot— the consequence that came of you wearing your newly bought shoes to impress a shameless bunch who didn’t even bother to show up.

“This joyous occasion calls for singing and dancing!” A bard declares, his face flushed red from the amount of drinks he’d already downed. It would be a miracle if he even managed to stay standing, let alone sing a song, but nobody paid any heed.

The girls in attendance tittered and hid their smiles behind their hands, batting their eyelashes at the boys who they hoped would ask them for a dance. Everyone knew that occasions like these were where romance and courtship bloomed, and to publicly ask someone for a slow dance was practically to get engaged.

All-in-all, a riveting display of youth, you thought dryly. It must be nice to attend a dance with friends, and to talk to them about the person you had romantic feelings for. Not that you would know about things like that.

“Would you like a refill?”

Some of the girls glance your way, their already rosy cheeks flushing an even warmer shade of pink at the sound of the stranger’s voice. Your gaze swiveled to fix upon the man standing behind the counter— oh.

“Would you like a refill?” He repeated firmly, gesturing to your glass. This man wasn’t the one who had served you your drink when you’d arrived, no— his eyes matched the crimson hair that was swept up into a high ponytail, gleaming in the lamplight like a thousand rubies. A simple bartender’s uniform was all he wore: a trim black waistcoat and gloves to match, worn over an open-collared white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Oh, but…” You peered at your glass, still half-full of grape juice. “I still have some left.”

“Well, just let me know if you want a refill. It’ll be on the house for tonight.”

“Another round, barkeep! Keep the wine flowing till dawn!” A fresh-faced bard cheers from the opposite end of the counter, his braided hair dangerously close to getting sloshed by his half-empty cup, and the bartender rolls his eyes but obliges. You could feel the eyes of those girls boring into you, but you couldn’t exactly blame them, either— this man would not have looked out of place among the gods as their cupbearer.

In the background people begin to clap in time with the music of the bards, a delightfully brisk tempo that had the young folk standing up eagerly as they waited for the dance to begin. Those who did not stand instead chose to stamp their feet or bang their cups against the tabletops, cheering wildly as a young lass took the floor, her skirts swishing playfully as she eyed the crowd for her potential dance partner.

“How come you’re not joining?”

The bartender reappears out of nowhere, nearly causing you to jump out of your skin. “Ah- you startled me!”

“My apologies.”

You sighed once more and let your gaze wander back to the scene; the girl had found a partner, a young boy with a mischievous smile that matched the spark in her eyes. Likewise, the rest of the crowd had followed their example and filtered into pairs, the atmosphere brimming with the anticipation of a glorious dance.

“…I don’t know anybody. All the people I was supposed to go with ended up ditching me.”

“Ah.” His face creases, contorting into the ‘I’m sorry to hear that’ expression that people usually gave you when you told them about incidents like these. “I’m—“

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry to hear that. I’ll only feel worse because some stranger is taking pity on me for having no friends.” You smile ruefully and finish the last of your grape juice, pushing the empty glass across the counter. “I’ll just go out for some air, and maybe I’ll feel a bit better afterwards. Thanks for the drink.”

The expression disappeared as quickly as it came, but you paid it no heed— instead, you headed for the door, seeking it to cool your head in the peaceful quiet of moonlight.

——

The streets of Mondstadt were empty, completely devoid of any life whatsoever; the distinct lack of people was evident, even in the center square. But the lack of people meant that it was quiet, and that sense of solitude was what you needed to clear your head.

Taking a deep breath, you savoured the crisp coolness of the night air, taking this opportunity to reflect.

Under normal circumstances, you wouldn't have felt so bothered by situations like these— in fact, you weren’t even familiar with events like these, yet somehow what you had seen tonight made your heart ache for something you never knew you wanted.

It felt silly to envy those people who you barely even knew, yet you wished that you could experience that joy that they shared so freely among each other. What would it feel like to be able to enjoy yourself at a gathering without feeling left out? To have people who made the time and effort to spend time with you? To even have butterflies as someone asked you for a dance?

"Are you alright?"

For the second time this evening, you nearly jumped out of your skin. Behind you stood the handsome bartender from earlier, who had apparently followed you out of the tavern.

"You startled me once again."

"My apologies." He said, though he didn't look very apologetic. Perhaps that was just his resting face.

The proper response would've been to tell him it was alright and to forget about it, but you no longer had the energy for formalities; instead, you sigh and draw a hand over your face. "Don't you have work to do?"

The bartender threw a dismissive glance towards his workplace and snorted. "It's alright. Besides, it's also my job to ensure the welfare of our patrons."

"Quite the workplace ethics you have."

"Thank you."

The conversation dies down into a companionable silence as you both gaze at the moon over Mondstadt, extending its moonbeams as a gesture of kindness towards the citizens that weren't partying the night away.

"So, is there any particular reason for why you wanted to clear your head tonight?" He asks, the moonlight dancing in his ruby eyes like milk in a cup of rosy-red tea.

"Well, there's the usual reason of me not being one for loud social gatherings. That's one."

"What about the fact that your acquaintances left you stranded?"

"That's two reasons," You reluctantly admit, secretly praying that he wouldn't ask anymore questions. Your third reason was embarassing enough and would sound even more pathetic if you said it aloud.

"I have a feeling that there's a third."

Perhaps you should have held your tongue.

"...Yes, there is."

Your dismay must've shown on your face, for the bartender shrugs and returns to moon-gazing. "There's no need to say what it is. I can probably guess it anyway."

No pressing questions, no subtle guilt trips to get you to open up— just an acknowledgement of your feelings and your decision to keep them to yourself. This man was a perfect stranger to you, yet in the span of one evening you felt more comfortable around him than during all of the years you had spend hanging around your acquaintances.

A faint chorus of cheers can be heard from within as the dance reaches the peak of its excitement, the stamping of feet speeding into a frenzy as the music grows faster and faster. The voices of the bards were drowned out like birds in a summer's storm, leaving only the skeleton of a song to be heard by outsiders.

"...Well, it was nothing much in the first place. Just the feeling of being left out."

He gives a soft hum in reply, nodding to acknowledge your answer; somehow, you have the feeling that he understands the sort of loneliness that you've carried with you wherever you went. This stranger had the air of one who was well-versed in the language of loneliness, and he seemed to be the sort of person who wouldn't judge you for it.

"I don't even know why it bothers me so much when I can't even dance in the first place." You smile awkwardly, turning away from the light of the moon to stare longingly at the glowing windows of the tavern. "I'd probably muddle up that first dance alone, much less survive through the entire evening."

As if on cue, the claps slowed in rhythm, signalling that it was time for the long-awaited couples’ dance. Through the windows you could see the faint silhouettes of the boys who extended a hand to their would-be partners, who all accepted with giddy smiles.

Your feet twitch in your shiny new shoes, aching to know what it was to dance and enjoy dancing.

Your companion must have noticed your staring, for he, too, turned to look inside. "Are you sure you don't want to join them? This dance has a slower tempo and is a bit easier to learn."

"It would just be a hassle. Besides, I don't even have a dance partner."

"You do have one."

"Where? I don't see one."

"Right here."

For a moment your mind completely halts, struggling to properly process the full meaning of what the bartender just said. But he does not wait for you to recover— instead, he bows formally, extending one gloved hand to you in his offer.

“May I have this dance, then?” A faint smile flickers across his features, almost impossible to catch in the darkness— but that smile betrays itself in the sound of his voice, in the way it washes over you with its rich baritone and pulls you under in its irresistible warmth.

“I don’t even know your name.” You laugh slightly, yet your hand slips into his all the same. “I can’t very well dance with a stranger, can I?”

You cannot tell if it is the skill of your dance partner or some heaven-sent instinct, but the moment he steps closer to you, everything falls into place automatically; your posture naturally corrects itself, taking on the tall, upright stature of a dancer that you'd only dreamed of imitating, and one hand finds its place on his shoulder while the other firmly clasps his gloved hand. Even your feet forgot their aches and pain, shifting to balance your weight on the balls of the feet just as you had seen the other dancers do.

"My name is Diluc," he says simply, bringing his other hand to rest on the small of your back. "May I be so bold as to ask for yours?"

This was not the kind of dance that you had expected to have tonight— a pas de deux with cobblestone streets for your dance floor and the moon replacing the light of a chandelier, and a strange but trustworthy bartender as your partner. Yet that does not stop the heartbeat that thrums faster than the tempo of any dance, nor does it hinder you from speaking your truth.

“Yes," you reply, your first genuine smile of the evening working its way up your lips. "Yes, you may.”

#tellerluna.rkive: genshin #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact diluc #genshin diluc #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc fluff #diluc headcanons #diluc imagines #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x you #diluc x reader #diluc x gender neutral reader #diluc x gn reader #Spotify

[tellerluna-stories]

episode 05: rumours that wind like rivers

CONTENTS: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. m.list!

TW/CW: implied violence, minor injuries and wounds

A/N: 'i'll write a short thoma fic,' I told myself when I started this. 'it'll prolly just be around 1-2k words max.' spoiler alert: it was not, in fact, 1-2k words max. this chapter is 6k words alone. why am I like this

this chapter is dedicated to the loveliest sun @x-zho !!!!! hope this helps you get 1000% better ten <;33

Rumours had begun to wind their way through the campus.

You were no stranger to the epic highs and lows of school drama, but for some reason the rumours seemed to be more than mere gossip. The sound of whispering followed you wherever you went, a low but incessant buzzing in your ears that screamed of malicious intent; heads would turn when you walked in the hallway, unfamiliar stares that were less than friendly.

‘Is that the one who…’

‘I think so, from what I heard.’

‘How cruel. He deserves better than that…’

Naturally, you stared back. Life was too short to deal with the pettiness of other people.

You weren’t sure why these strangers had decided to single you out this time, but you had an inkling of an idea; given the circumstances, there was a high probability that it was about you and Thoma. Most likely it had to do with some admirer of his, seething with jealousy after being rejected by Thoma— wait, just where exactly was your mind going with this? Why was your first instinct to think of something that was straight out of a poorly-written telenovela?

Either way, you tried your best to ignore the rumours. It wasn’t hard to do, especially with Thoma hanging around you all the time. If it bothered you, you tried your best not to show him— sometimes it was just easier to let things slide.

But today Thoma had been called away to assist with some club, or committee meeting, or something like that; you weren’t sure of the details, but the student who had practically hauled Thoma by the elbow looked fed up with the shenanigans of his fellow club members. From the looks of it, it seemed like Thoma would have to baby-sit the other students after school... again.

Well, that’s no problem, you reassured yourself. You’d simply wait for him to finish.

You sighed and closed your notebook with a snap, your pencils rattling on the desk from the sheer force.

Mechanically, you performed your after-school routine, the mindless tasks of gathering your pencils to place in your pencil-case, then putting said pencil-case in your backpack. Stacking your notebooks and textbooks according to height and size and storing them in your bag, sweeping up the leftover eraser rubbings with a piece of scrap paper and then disposing of the whole thing into the waste-bin. Lastly, you wiped your desk clean with a wet wipe, a habit that you seemed to have picked up from Thoma; apparently, his obsession with cleanliness was contagious.

Something was amiss, though.

You looked up to see an unfamiliar face— a girl, presumably from another class. Her hair was swept back in a neat ponytail, and there was an ominous set to her mouth that made your instincts scream run.

“Um… how may I help you?”

“I heard you’re the one who gives relationship advice. Am I right?” She said bluntly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Who was this girl? Your mind went into overdrive trying to recall if you had seen her, but that wasn’t possible; you had stopped assisting people a long time ago, and it wouldn’t make sense for her to complain only now.

Hesitantly, you answered, “Not anymore.”

The girl frowned, looking even more displeased than before. “Oh, so not anymore, huh?” A bitter hue of mockery coloured her tone. “Is it because you’re trying to take Thoma for yourself?”

“…What.”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” She hissed— if looks could kill, your funeral rites would’ve been long finished by now. “I’ve heard all about you and what you’ve done. My friend asked you to help her confess to Thoma a while back, but you refused.”

“That’s because I don’t do it anymore. And I didn’t really help with confessions in the first place…”

Unfortunately you could no longer remember which wannabe ‘Thoma’s Sweetheart’ she might’ve been talking about, due to the fact that there were too many people who fit the criteria; you really should have put more effort in memorising their names and faces.

“No more excuses!” The girl’s nostrils flared, giving her the almost comedic appearance of an angry bull. “When she saw how you’ve been hanging around Thoma day and night, she cried for days. Her eyes have been swollen for almost a week now!”

You tried very hard to look like you were at least concerned— ah, who were you kidding. How was any of this your problem?

The bull-headed girl seemed to be a well-meaning friend, but the fact that she didn’t listen to any of your reasoning made her an immense pain in the neck. Mentally, you made a note to punch Thoma in the arm later for the crime of being too handsome and dragging you into the plot of a (horribly cliche) telenovela.

“Look, Thoma is my seatmate. We are in the same class.” You tried to reason, forcefully willing your eye not to twitch. “Of course we’d be together most of the time.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you were dishonest. You turned her away so that you wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else stealing Thoma, didn’t you?”

“Thoma is not anyone’s property.” The words spewed out from between your gritted teeth, the last shreds of your patience wearing thin. “He’s capable of making his own choices and deciding who he wants to hang out with.”

The bull-headed girl fell silent— for a moment, you felt relief. It was stupid enough to argue about a boy like two spoiled brats fighting over a doll, but to be fighting over someone who you didn’t even feel like you deserved to be close to?

Downright depressing.

All the whispers, the discontented glares that followed you wherever you went— was that what all those frosty stares had been about? A sinking sensation lodged itself in your stomach as you wondered just how many more people were like this girl, wishing for your downfall so that they could claim the place by Thoma’s side.

While you were contemplating your situation, your opponent slowly raised her head, a look of malicious intent in her eyes that signified she was about to say something incredibly stupid. “Y’know, you’re pretty naive.”

Internally you sighed, steeling yourself for the tirade of insults that were sure to follow. Well, it wasn’t like you wouldn’t hear anything new under the sun— your profession had brought about a few nasty customers, after all.

“I don’t believe Thoma’s stupid enough to actually want to hang around someone like you. He always looked empty-headed to me, but this would just be downright pathetic.” Bull-headed girl sneered vindictively, a triumphant look in her eyes as she (wrongly) assumed her victory. “It’s obvious that he’s only hanging out with you to be nice— some guy he must be. But you’re even worse, with the way you’re clinging onto him like a leech.”

Your mind went completely blank.

Thoma, stupid. Empty-headed. Pathetic.

Sweet, gentle Thoma, who always went above and beyond for everyone, even if they weren’t someone from his class. The student who worked hard so he could meet the expectations of those who admired him and to offer a helping hand to those who struggled with their schoolwork. The kind-hearted boy who listened to his parents’ advice and dreamed of becoming someone who could protect the ones dearest to him.

The boy who thawed your heart and made a safe nest for it to call home, even if you couldn’t summon the courage to tell him.

Something behind your eyes flashed white-hot, almost blinding you with how it seared in the back of your head. You could have stomached anything else if she had just been wise enough to leave Thoma out of it, but enough was enough.

If someone else had been in your shoes, maybe they would have cried. Perhaps they would have stared at this wretched girl with shock and hurt in their eyes, and then the hero of the story would swoop in and defend both their honour and his own. It was certainly a beautiful scenario to imagine, the sort of cliche moment that you could only dream of.

But instead it was you standing here today, and Thoma was nowhere to be found. Perhaps there was a more gracious, more main-character worthy way of solving this situation— but today, you were just a little too tired of being complacent and letting things happen.

Softly, you said, “Take that back.”

“Hah?” The girl scoffed derisively, practically spitting her disdain of you all over your face. Ew, saliva.

“I said,” Your voice was deathly quiet as you stood up from your desk, knuckles cracking ominously as your hands balled themselves into fists. “Take back what you said about him.”

It was already almost dark when you were finally released from detention, the sky painted the rich blue that always followed after the most magnificent of sunsets. Normally you would have stopped to admire it, but the sizeable wad of tissue stuffed up one of your nostrils somewhat ruined the romantic atmosphere.

The nurse had done her best to treat and bandage the scratches on your face and arms, but the nosebleed hadn’t stopped till halfway through your detention period. You were probably lucky that your opponent wasn’t actually trained in fighting, or else you could have ended up with even worse than a nosebleed.

Well, you technically weren’t supposed to be happy about it, but she had paid dearly for scoring that hit; two black eyes that made her look like a panda, and a hefty chunk of hair that you'd yanked out by accident. (You'd only grabbed her ponytail when she started using her fingernails to scratch you, but the hair actually coming out had been a surprise to both of you.)

The utter nerve of some people, really. This was why you had always kept to yourself.

It would've been quite flattering that she thought you had the time and energy to manipulate the situation this way, but really, just who did she think you were? And the fact that she talked about stealing Thoma like he was some sort of trophy to be won made your blood boil.

The ground swayed slightly as you dragged yourself to the school gates; somehow, in your weary state, you thought of Thoma. He had probably gone home when you didn’t show up.

Too bad we couldn’t walk home together, your subconscious lamented. You were too tired to argue with it.

But perhaps it was for the best after all; you weren’t sure if Thoma would be happy to hang out with someone who picked fights. There had been relationships you counselled that ended poorly because of situations like that, where one person discovered that their partner wasn’t who they had thought to be. And if your intuition was correct… there was a high likelihood that Thoma would react the same way if he found out.

You shuddered as you imagined his eyes filled with disappointment, a look of disgust as he turned his back on you. If Thoma were the sun, then you were Icarus, blinded by foolish greed— no, no, you shouldn’t borrow tomorrow’s troubles for today. It would just leave a cold, heavy feeling in your stomach and anxiety shivering down your spine.

As you staggered over the gate’s threshold, a figure stirred from its resting position.

“You’re late—“ Thoma began to scold, but froze in shock at the sight of your bruised and puffy face. “What happened to you?!”

Just like that, the cares and worries of the day disappeared (most of them, anyway), and a small, giddy smile worked up your face in spite of your exhaustion— he had waited for you, after all.

Suddenly, your senses were overwhelmed with what felt like a golden tornado; it was none other than a very worried puppy-boy, his metaphorical ears drooping as he panicked over what were probably minor injuries. It felt nice to have him worry about you, you had to admit.

“Your arms- oh, gosh.” His hands brush lightly over the bandages over your arms, finding their way up to cradle your face gingerly. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

Perhaps it was your head injury, or maybe it was the rush of excitement upon seeing him, but your head suddenly felt quite light upon your shoulders. I’m happy you waited for me, a small, selfish part of you wanted to say.

But you wouldn’t- couldn’t muster the courage to say it.

“Hi, Thoma.” Against your better judgement, your head only leaned further into the warmth of his palm. “-‘s been a long day for me.”

“I never would have guessed.” His face was all creased with worry, but still Thoma tried to put on a smile— for your sake or his own, you would never know. “Are- are you okay? How do you feel right now?”

Perfect, you almost said aloud. Thoma had waited for you and was now worried about you, though you much preferred it when he smiled; you were happy that he cared enough about you to do all of these things, even if it was only out of the kindness of his heart. How could you explain to him that you felt so happy that it was going to your head, swirling in a trance of rapturous delight that left you dizzy and your feet unsteady as you slowly inched closer to him— ah, did the world always seem to be so slanted?

The last thing you remembered was being surrounded in soft, delicious warmth, and the sound of Thoma’s panicked voice fading into darkness.

You came to your senses with your pounding head resting on something warm and sturdy, the faint smell of laundry soap in the one working nostril that you had left.

“Are you awake?”

In the faint light, Thoma’s green eyes peered at you with concern, his bangs sweeping forward till they barely touched the crown of your head. For a split-second, you wished you could pass out again.

Bolting upright, you glanced around to find yourself outside the bakery where you usually met up with Thoma. Seated on a bench next to said puppy-boy who had presumably waited for you to wake up… while resting your head on his shoulder, no less. And for some reason Thoma had changed out of his uniform, wearing a slim black t-shirt instead of the usual white polo that was required by your school.

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be delighted or to despair at your situation.

“Wha- where?!” One hand jerked up to check the bandages wrapped around your head; some of them had fallen loose, tumbling around your neck like some sort of tacky necklace, while an unfamiliar white shirt was draped over you like a makeshift blanket. You probably looked like a cross between a toilet-papered house and a fashionable mummy, but that wasn’t the issue at hand here.

The two answers that you needed to know right now were number one: how you got to the bakery when you last remembered being at school, and number two: how and why you ended up snuggled into Thoma’s shoulder like- like— your face burned like an oven just thinking about it.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Oblivious to your internal conflict, the reason for your confusion fumbled with his backpack zipper. “I have a first-aid kit here, hold on… nope, not it." He dug even further, a tiny frown on his face as he searched for the elusive item.

The sky was already dark and the stars were out, which meant Thoma had to have been here for quite a while— no, no, no, you were probably hallucinating. There was no way you could have passed out for that long in front of the person you liked… right?

Your eyes roved wildly as you took in your surroundings, searching for a sign that you were dreaming. The light from the store-front window looked a little too surreal, the trees just a bit too unrealistic; you desperately wanted to believe that you did not just embarass yourself to the point of considering moving to a new country and faking a new identity.

(But then again, you weren’t sure that you were capable of dreaming up the expression that the bakery owner wore as she waved hello from behind the counter— the face of a die-hard shipper watching their favourite couple interact was something you could only find in reality. And the shirt that now lay in your lap felt a little too real to be something you dreamt.)

"That’s not it either… oh!” Thoma pulled out a tiny white box with a triumphant grin, the sight nearly sending you back into the realm of unconsciousness. Seriously, just how many gigawatts did his smile have…?

“Did- did you find it?” You managed to choke out, your tongue lying thick and heavy in your mouth.

“Sure did! Which means it’s time to get down to the real business at hand." His smile suddenly became more sinister, the sort of expression that nurses wore after saying the vaccination wouldn't hurt that much (and it always, always hurt like a torture device from the Middle Ages); the very sight sent chills running down your spine. “Turn your face here so I can see it in the light.”

What did you ever do to deserve this?

There were currently two things that you did not want to do, one of which was to make eye-contact with Thoma, and the other was to endure another session of poking and prodding at your injuries. Unfortunately, the puppy-traitor had decided to do both of those. Hooray.

“What are you, a nurse?”

“An unlicensed one, but I can rise to the occasion if need be. Now let me see your wounds.”

“Don’ wanna,” You lisped, wincing as a particularly annoying cut on your lip stung in protest— it seemed that some of your wounds had reopened on the journey here.

“Now, please.” There was his serious, no-nonsense tone of voice that was reserved only for the most stubborn of people.

Begrudgingly you moved your head two centimetres, causing the puppy-nurse to sigh loudly. Gently, a pair of warm hands cupped your face, turning your head till you were staring him eye-to-eye— oh, great heavens.

“It’s not as bad as I thought, but I think some of the bandages need to be changed.” He leaned in and tugged the wad of bloody tissue out of your nose; fervently, you prayed that the rush of blood to your head wouldn't end in another nosebleed spewing all over Thoma. Did he seriously have no concept of personal space?

In response to your unspoken question, the puppy-boy turned nurse only shuffled closer and half-knelt on the bench to get a better angle of your injuries, tilting your head upwards to look at him as he poured ointment on a cotton ball. Apparently he had never heard of the alien custom of personal space, much to your downfall.

"…You know, the nurse already treated me." You mumbled, if only to at least attempt to maintain a shred of your dignity.

"No offense to her, but she didn't do a very good job of it." Thoma replied with a disappointed shake of his head, leaning even closer to inspect the cuts on your face (oh, of course he had to do that when you were already light-headed as it was). "...Do you mind me asking how you got these?"

There it was.

The cold, heavy weight of anxiety from earlier settled into your stomach; Thoma, with his eyes filled with shame and disappointment. His warm voice now cold and distant to you, saying, ‘I don’t want to hang around people like you.’

What if Panda-Eyes was right? What if he really thought that you were beneath him and he was just being nice to you because it was convenient? Somehow, somewhere down the line, Thoma had become someone important enough to you for you to worry about such things.

For a moment you remained frozen stiff, debating on whether not to tell him the truth— and that’s when a sunset-hued memory came to mind.

“You’re nervous that they won’t like you, you’re afraid of showing the uglier parts of yourself to them, but you want to stay with them more than anything else— even if they end up seeing what you’re trying to hide.”

Oh, why did you have to remember that sentence now?

You sighed and bit back a string of grouchy complaints, all of which were directed towards Thoma and how he had corrupted you to actually be honest with your feelings instead of bottling them up and never talking about them again. Take responsibility, you insolently adorable puppy-boy.

Well, you supposed that he would just have to take responsibility by shouldering the burden of hearing you out.

"Do you want the bad news or not-so-bad news first?"

"Um…” He hesitated, fumbling for the disinfectant bottle in his kit. “Bad news first?"

“…I may or may not have gotten into a fight.” You mumbled quickly, hanging your head in shame; your head bumped against Thoma’s torso, but you didn’t care anymore. Anything would do, just as long as you didn’t meet his gaze.

Thoma remains silent for a moment or two, his hands lowering to his side. "…Is that what happened?"

Cicadas hummed in the distance, their voices filling the silence where people dared not speak. The evening breeze tugged at your crumpled uniform and blew gentle chills down your spine, as if to remind you of the cold pit that weighed itself down in your stomach.

This is where he'll leave, you told yourself. This is the part where he'll throw a fit and get angry and yell at me. It's what happened to all those other people— he'll hate me forever and never speak to me again.

If it could happen to those other people who were worthy of love and romance, then how much more you?

“Hey, eyes on me.” A sturdy hand tilts your face upwards, and once again you find yourself helpless before Thoma’s emerald-green gaze. There was no malice, no disappointment— nothing but concern showing in those eyes that you could get lost in to never be found. “I can’t disinfect your wounds if you look down.”

That was all he said. No more, no less.

You remained silent as Thoma wiped dried blood away with cotton soaked in alcohol and dressed your wounds. He didn’t blow up at you, nor did he walk away in disgust; he just waited till you were ready to speak, just as he always did.

“…You’re not mad about it?”

“Hey, if someone as non-confrontational as you got into a fight, then there has to be a reason why.” His mouth quirked upward in a small smile as he daubed ointment on a scratch near your eye. “You avoided me the first few times I tried talking to you, and that was just normal conversation. How much more physical confrontation?”

Internally you cringed; so he had noticed you were avoiding him.

(But at the same time, it made you happy that he had noticed. It sort of made you feel like he considered you important enough to notice the lack of your presence.)

“So,” Thoma continued, smoothing a tiny adhesive bandage over the scratch. “If that’s the bad news, what’s the not-so-bad news?”

“Well, uh… it’s not really news.” You searched for the right words, praying that your voice wouldn’t fail you now. “It- I thought I at least owed you an explanation. To tell you how it happened… and all.”

So you explained everything to Thoma, from beginning to end; how you resigned yourself to your fate early on and instead chose to give counseling to people who asked, the sheer volume of admirers that he had which made you give it up. The way you had planned to wait for him today, only to get confronted by an angry bull-headed girl. You told him of the things she said and how it made you so angry, though you didn’t exactly understand why, and how you got scared that he would distance himself from you once he found out. You even told him about her panda eyes and the chunk of hair that you’d accidentally yanked out.

You had never talked this much in your life before, but somehow the words kept spilling out. Oddly enough, it was just easier to use your voice when Thoma was around.

All the while, Thoma listened patiently— even as you occasionally winced from the sting of antiseptic, even when he had to blow gently on a cut for you to calm down. Only when you had finally worn out and slumped back against the bench did Thoma act, taking your hand and tracing circles in your palm with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply, a sad look in his eyes.

“Don’t be sorry.” You replied, your head swimming from all the talking you did. “As you said, I’m not the type to be confrontational. But for you...” Pausing, you eyed your bruised and scuffed knuckles, now clad in soft white bandages thanks to Thoma's nursing.

"...I’d do it again.”

“You really don’t have to pay any mind to what they say about me…”

“Shh, be quiet and enjoy the moment while it lasts. I'm not saying that again.”

“Yes, boss.”

Somehow, your exhaustion had removed any filter that you had whatsoever, leaving you with a strange sense of recklessness (in hindsight, it was probably the effect of taking a glancing blow to the head.) All the things that you’d bottled up were bubbling up like champagne, threatening to overflow with honesty at any minute.

(No, you were not going to confess. You still had some common sense in you to clamp your feelings down before it slipped loose.)

“I really meant what I said earlier, by the way. About the whole confrontational, I’d-do-it-again thing…” Suddenly you realised how embarassing it sounded once you said it aloud.

Thoma chuckled faintly, continuing to trace circles in the palm of your hand. “I know.”

“Thanks for looking after me when I passed out. And thanks for treating my wounds.” You hesitated, fiddling with the hem of your shirt with your free hand. “…Thank you for listening to me, too.”

Thoma smiled gently and leaned in to whisper something in your ear; suddenly, you were very aware of the pounding of your heart that resonated in your eardrums. What on earth was he going to say that required him to lean so close? You unconsciously held your breath, waiting for him to speak…

Only for him to dramatically stage-whisper, “For you, I’d do it again.”

“…You shut your mouth before I take that back and fight you instead.”

He took one look at your displeased face and immediately burst into laughter, like the audacious little puppy he was— well, you supposed it was better to have a laughing Thoma than a droopy-eared, pouty one. Though both were equally cute.

“What’s so funny about it, huh?” You fired back, though there was no malice to your tone. “You’re facing a veteran fighter here— you might want to rethink doing that, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” The twinkle of laughter still lingered in his eyes and hovered on his smiling lips, chasing away any traces of doom and gloom that Thoma might have once carried. “I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

“Hoy, I know you’re not taking me seriously right now. Did you forget that I took a couple of punches to the face?”

Thoma laughed and shook his head, giving your hair an affectionate ruffle. “You’re right. Sorry, boss.”

The sudden contact sent an electrical shock down your spine, and internally you seethed. Once again, this puppy-boy is making me act out of character.

In the past, you would never have expected to be reduced to such a state; heart doing jumping-jacks in your throat, your knees weak and palms sweaty all from a trivial gesture like a smile. Just one ridiculously blinding, dentist-approved smile, but it made you want to make sure he stayed happy and joyful for the rest of his life, no matter the cost. Even if you had to deal with a thousand pony-tailed-panda-eyed girls everyday to make it happen.

The stars overhead twinkled knowingly, as if delighting in this turn of events— perhaps the constellations were laughing amongst themselves, knowing that they were witnessing another love-story unfolding. A gust of wind breezed past with a mischievous whistle, sticking its chilly fingers underneath the collar of your uniform and brushing Thoma's bangs back to expose his forehead to the cold.

Perhaps time would be kind enough to freeze in this moment, like a moth trapped in amber, said that small, obnoxious part of yourself.

It seemed as if all of creation had banded together to delight in the beauty before you— the shining starlight that danced in Thoma’s emerald-green eyes, the wind that toyed with his hair of gold. Even in the night the sun was present, flickering in that ever-blinding smile of his; for certain, you knew that the Creator of the young man before you had nodded and smiled in satisfaction upon finishing, saying, ‘It is good.’

“I’m really lucky to have you, you know that?” Thoma’s voice broke the spell he put you under, bringing you back to reality in the blink of an eye.

Your heart reacted faster than your head did, speeding up to run at least a mile a millisecond— him? Lucky to have you?

This was bad— no, this was really, really bad, for both your heart and emotional stability. All of your years of counseling would never have been enough to prepare you for this.

“Thoma…” You grimaced (hey, it was your only defense mechanism for when you were confronted with emotions like these). “I thought I was the one with a head injury, not you.”

“What? I’m just being honest here.”

His honesty was probably going to be the death of you at some point.

“Tch.” You glanced behind you to ensure the bakery owner wasn’t listening; the last thing you wanted was for her to pester you with questions the next time you came to visit. “Why’d you bring that up all of a sudden, anyway?”

“Oh, uh…“ The tips of his ears turned a faint pink in the dim light. “I think it’s always good to tell things like these to the people you care about. Of course, words should always be accompanied with actions, because it wouldn’t do to have empty words without meaning. But what I mean is—”

“Thoma.”

“Right. Back on topic. Anyway, what I meant to say is…” Thoma’s eyes fixed on yours, filled with a sincerity that was unique to only him. “I’m really grateful to have you watching out for me. I can’t thank you enough.”

Thump went your traitorous heart, and it took all of your willpower to prevent yourself from gushing out a confession on the spot. Don’t do that, Thoma, don’t give me hope.

If anything, you should have been the one saying that to Thoma; he was the one to bring you out of your shell like this. It was Thoma who steadfastly waited till you were ready to open up your heart to accept his company, and it was he who had brought so many new, beautiful things into your life. And you… what did you even do for him?

“It’s not everyday that you find someone who’s willing to go against all of their basic principles just to defend you, y’know.” He smiled so easily at you, that soft gentleness that made your rationality go flying off the top of the highest building to splatter into a puddle onto the concrete; once again, your feelings crept to the threshold of your heart and timidly knocked, asking to be let out.

“Well, I…” You started, but alas— the words seemed to falter before they could leave your mouth. “I…”

“Wait.” He cut you off, and in one graceful motion Thoma sweeps his shirt about your shoulders, adjusting it to ensure that it didn’t fall. “It’s cold tonight.”

Internally you heaved a sigh and accepted your fate— it looked like your poor heart wouldn’t get any rest till you were safe inside your house. “How am I supposed to return this to you?”

“Just wash it and bring it to school, I suppose.”

“Only if you promise not to scold me if my way of washing clothes is not up to your standards.”

“Deal.” He agreed, tugging at the collar of the shirt with his usual air of perfectionism. “One more thing, by the way.”

“…What is it?”

Thoma smiled apologetically, that familiar softness in his eyes. “If you hear someone saying nasty things about me, just ignore them.”

Ignore… them?

You didn’t understand why he would ask you to ignore something like that— it didn’t make sense, especially considering how Thoma had just told you that he appreciated you looking out for him. In your eyes it would have been more logical for him to ask you to keep watching out for him, so why would he make such a strange request.

“Why?”

“Their opinions really don’t bother me at all. As long as you know what I’m really like, then whatever they say doesn’t matter.” He released your shirt-collar and brushed off his pants, extending a hand to you with a smile. “Now, shall we go?”

You blinked owlishly at his outstretched hand.

“I’ll walk you home tonight.”

“But-”

“No buts. What if you pass out on the way home?”

Logically speaking, he did have a point— it wouldn’t do to have someone in your physical state walking home alone at this hour. But still you hesitated, torn between not wanting to take up anymore of his time than you already had and the idea of snatching just a few more moments with him.

“We’re not strangers, you know. And for you…” Thoma pauses dramatically, that almost-sly look on his face once again. “…I’d do it—“

“Shut up! I can’t hear you, lalalalalalala—” You clapped your hands over your ears and jumped up from your seat; before you knew it, your legs had carried you up the road, away from the faint sound of his laughter floating up into the heavens like a wish ungranted. “You’re ridiculous!”

“I’ll be taking that as a compliment, if it’s fine with you!”

“Whatever!” Your breath rattled in your lungs as you ran away from Thoma and all the dangerous heart-fluttering that he brought to you, the jittering nerves that only became more agitated upon hearing his laughter.

“Hey, wait for me,” he called out, hauling both of your backpacks onto his shoulders and breaking into a lazy sprint. “It’s not good for you to run like that! Slow down!”

But that night, if you had only turned around, if you had dared to look at your puppy-boy in the face… perhaps you would have discovered a different side to him. For Thoma's face fell when you turned away, a displeased frown clouding his normally sunny expression.

“You’ll never catch me alive!” You yelled in the distance, the bandages wrapped around your arms shining bright in the light of the street-lamps and the distant starlight— Thoma’s jawline only tightened at the sight of those pale bandages, his throat constricting with something dangerously akin to anger. If he had only known sooner…

I’ll definitely make things right, he declared, a silent promise to both you and himself.

Then Thoma shook off his anger and stepped forward with a smile, for he would not allow tomorrow’s troubles to taint today’s time with you— no longer fettered by his burdens, the young man broke into a proper sprint, racing to catch up with you and to follow what his heart knew was righteous.

#tellerluna.tales: to find a home in your heart #tellerluna.rkive: genshin #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #thoma #thoma genshin impact #genshin impact thoma #thoma scenarios #thoma imagines #thoma headcanons #thoma fluff #thoma angst #thoma x reader #thoma x you #thoma x y/n #thoma x gn reader #thoma x gender neutral reader

[tellerluna-stories]

episode 04: a faint chime heard by sunshine

CONTENTS: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. m.list!

TW/CW: none

A/N: bet you thought you'd seen the last of me. SIIIIIIKE anyway this chapter will be uploaded a little sooner than my usual sched bc I haven't updated in a while. irl stuff is slowly settling but my schedule is still super iffy so don't expect too much HAHA

Ever since that day, the atmosphere between you and Thoma had changed. You no longer tried to avoid him, and his little antics somehow shifted from being unnerving to endearing. The change was subtle and unspoken, yet it felt as if he was slowly bridging the gap between the two of you now that he knew you wouldn’t turn him away. Perhaps you could even be bold enough to say you were friends.

That sense of learning something new about Thoma never really went away, for every day became filled with a new colour that only he could bring— whether it was walking, eating lunch, or studying, the tasks that were dull and lifeless suddenly became things to look forward to.

One of the first things you learned was that number one: Thoma always took his parents’ advice to heart.

Every morning you walked to where your respective paths to school intersected to be greeted by the sight of Thoma leaning against a telephone pole, rubbing the sleep from his eyes while he waited for you. When you had asked him why, he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and replied, “My dad told me it was the gentlemanly thing to do.”

And just like that, the dull commute to and from school was now coloured with a gentle shade of rosy-red. He told you stories and listened to yours, matching your pace as he walked on the outer edge of the sidewalk. (Another word of advice given by his parents, no doubt.)

You discovered another fact, one that revealed a soft yellow in its discovery: Thoma firmly believed in never allowing a friend to eat alone if he could help it.

Prior to hanging out with Thoma at the bakery, your lunchtimes had been mostly spent alone at the table in the furthest corner of the cafeteria. But now he had started the strange habit of sharing his meals with you; every lunchtime, he would whisk you off in order to have lunch up on the rooftop, complete with home-cooked food courtesy of Thoma. Yes, home-cooked.

He could cook practically anything under the sun if he just had the recipe— it didn’t matter whether it was Western or Eastern cuisine, or if it was some sort of complicated pastry, because Thoma would somehow manage to replicate the dish successfully. Of course, the amount of time it took him to master a dish varied greatly depending on its difficulty, but whatever he presented to you was always delicious. (Even if it was food that you normally despised with all your soul, which in itself was an uncanny ability. Just what sort of black magic did he put in his cooking?)

At first you had tried to pay him for the food, but he always refused— apparently it was leftover food from when he cooked his lunch, and it would be a waste if it didn’t get eaten. Not that you minded eating it, because Thoma’s cooking was divine.

Warm orange was the colour of your next revelation, a hue that mirrored the fading sunset that shone brilliantly through the open windows; Thoma was always, always ready to lend a hand.

He was one of the best students in his class, yet he never seemed to let it get to his head— Thoma was the type of person who didn’t care about where he was ranked academically and was always willing to lend his notes to others even if it cost him his ranking. Sometimes he stayed after class to tutor other students, though he always made sure to leave on time so that he could walk you home. Thoma was always a little too willing to volunteer for the jobs that nobody liked to do, which left you with no choice but to help him with them so that he wouldn’t be overburdened. (Well, you told yourself that you had no choice, anyway.)

But there was another unexpected development that accompanied the change; there was something different in your behaviour that made you nervous. It started out as an uncomfortable fluttering that started in your stomach and rushed through your bloodstream when Thoma did practically anything, and from there it only escalated further into weirder and weirder impulses. The first time he’d offered to feed you some of his food (with his personal chopsticks, no less), you’d nearly launched yourself off the rooftop in an attempt to calm yourself. And you normally didn’t have a hard time keeping a lid on your emotions.

(Alas, those shining puppy-dog eyes of his just also happened your mortal weakness, so you had no choice but to meekly open your mouth and allow him to feed you like a baby-bird. Really, it was unfair of him to have such an effective weapon in his artillery.)

There were too many signs for you to miss— the strange rush of adrenaline in your veins when you accidentally brushed against Thoma, the shortness of breath when he said your name, the unexpected fever that burned when you made eye-contact with him…

Nope, it was best not to think about it.

Of course, all of this had nothing to do with the fact that you were lying wide awake at three in the morning on a school night. You were certainly not thinking about it. At all.

(However, the search results on your phone screen said otherwise.)

“What am I even doing…?” With a groan, you threw your phone into a pillow and curled into a blanket-burrito of misery. The dim light of the screen glowed gently, as if to mock you with all the questions you wanted to ask.

SEARCH HISTORY:

[symptoms of arrythmia and fever around certain people]

[what does it mean if I get really nervous and flustered around someone]

[difference between platonic and romantic attraction]

[romantic feelings definition]

[how to tell if you have a crush on someone]

[i want to launch myself directly into the sun whenever this person approaches me what does it mean]

[how to directly launch yourself into the sun]

Alright, maybe the phone had a reason for mocking you, but still.

You buried yourself even further into your blankets and drowned out the existence of your embarrassing internet searches. Who’d have ever thought that you’d end up just like one of your clients, losing sleep over something as petty as this?

Suddenly Thoma came to mind, a mental image of him with his hands planted firmly on his hips as he scolded you. It’s not good to stay up late. Rest is important if you want to have a healthy life.

“You’re the reason I’m still awake, you absolute menace.” You said aloud, raising a threatening fist at the ceiling. The audacity of that stupidly pretty puppy-boy, for him to invade your personal headspace like that. Though it wasn’t technically his fault— if anything, you were the one lying awake and thinking of him.

And you didn’t want to be.

There was nothing wrong for people to have crushes; but for you to have one… it was something you wanted to avoid at all costs. No, it wasn’t just something you wanted to avoid— it was utterly impossible for you to feel this way. You weren’t the type of person who had the privilege to fall in love, which is why you locked those feelings away in the deepest part of yourself a long time ago, resolving to never acknowledge their existence again.

Burying your face into your pillow, you screamed. This was no time for you to deal with your unresolved angst! You needed to wake up early and go to school!! You could answer these questions tomorrow!!!

Perhaps it’d be a good idea to ask Thoma about it after school, a small part of your brain suggested.

Fat chance, said your common sense.

We get to see Thoma tomorrow! Another part of your brain cheered.

Sighing, you only pressed your face even further into the pillow. All of you, shut up and go to sleep.

(However, that didn’t stop you from delving even further for answers till the sun came up and having a near-meltdown over it, because according to the search results you were either madly in love or you were going to die in the next three weeks. Woe befalls those who blindly trust WebMD.)

“Thoma, what does falling in love feel like?”

The puppy-boy stumbled, just barely avoiding falling flat on his face. “E-eh…?”

The trees rustled in the wind, the rays of the setting sun painting the world in a watercolour wash of red, orange, yellow. For some odd reason, you couldn’t help but think that it reminded you of Thoma.

“What does it feel like to fall in love?” You repeated, a firm grip on the straps of your backpack (as if it could convince yourself that you had a grip on your emotions). “Or to have a crush… I don’t know, something like that I guess?”

“Wha- hey, your backpack looks pretty heavy! Why don’t you let me carry it for you?”

“You’re avoiding my question. And no, you can’t carry my bag.” Your eyes narrowed into a glare, lasering in on the overloaded backpack that he already carried. “I told you to stop trying to carry my things when you’re clearly overloaded. If you want to help me, then help me by answering the question.”

Thoma’s ears turned scarlet, his eyes remaining firmly fixed on the ground. “Well, you see… um- I really don’t know if I’m the right person to ask for this kind of stuff…”

The dead leaves under your feet crunched noisily as you walked, face conveniently turned away as you said, “…I’d feel awkward if I asked someone else.”

Or in other words, 'I don't have anyone else to ask.'

You didn’t mean that in a self-pitying manner, because it was only the truth; it would be awkward if you suddenly just walked up to one of your classmates and asked something like that out of the blue. Not to mention it would keep you up at night for years to come with the sheer embarassment— forget telling the waiter to enjoy his meal too, asking a near-stranger to help you with your love-life was a whole new level of wanting to wipe your memories.

Oh, and none of this has to do with the fact that Thoma is the only person you feel you could trust with a question like this. That small, annoying part of your brain hummed. No correlation at all. Totally.

“Ah, I guess you’re right.” He rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward smile, staring up at the sky as if lost in thought. “Well, if you’re asking me… I’d say it feels like you’re flying and falling at the same time, but at the same time you feel safer with that person than anywhere else in the world.”

“…Hah?”

“Okay, okay, wait— that sounded a little vague, so let me try and find a better way of putting it. I did tell you I wasn’t the best at this.” Thoma scrunched up his nose in concentration, cheeks slightly puffed out as the gears turned in his head. It took all of your willpower not to pet him the way you petted Taroumarou.

The wind picked up, sending dead leaves rustling down the street and tugging playfully at your hair— the way it whistled in your ears sounded familiar, almost as if it were humming a song that you had heard once upon a time.

At the same time, something in Thoma’s voice changed, a note that changed the entire composition into a tune that sounded even more tender and warm. “You’re nervous that they won’t like you and you’re afraid of showing the uglier parts of yourself to them, but you want to stay with them more than anything else— even if they end up seeing what you’re trying to hide.”

What you’re trying to hide, huh…

How did that apply to you, then? The feelings that you tried to stifle so badly, yet they bloomed within your chest all the same— was this what he was describing?

You didn’t even realise you had been staring till Thoma coughed, his cheeks flushed almost as red as his ears. “Well, this may sound a bit cliche… but I’ve also heard that part of falling in love is realising that they’ve become such a big part of your life that it’s almost impossible to live without them. I guess another way of putting it would be…” He pondered for a moment. “They become a home for your heart, without you even realising it?”

Your head swirled as you tried to comprehend the meaning of his words, but somehow all you could think of was memories of time spent with Thoma; the weekly trips to the bakery where all you did was to eat bread and laugh at Taroumarou begging for crumbs, sitting on the school rooftop and watching the clouds drift by. Trivial, everyday moments like listening to all of his stories and eating the food he cooked— they all felt familiar and comforting, just like…

Home.

The realisation sank in with an earth-shattering crash, and it was at this point you realised that you were absolutely done for. There was no saving you now, no way for you to turn back. Because somehow, somewhere down the line, Thoma had become a place of comfort for you, someone to whom you could show your true heart without fear of being misunderstood or judged.

You didn’t know when or how it had started, but now… now…..

Your heart ached wildly in your chest, beating as if it had finally been freed from all the restraints you had chained it down with.

"I see." You said quietly, eyeing a stray leaf that landed in your palm. "But if you really can’t live without that person, then…”

Then what? How would you be able to live if they left a gaping hole in your life when they were gone?

You had watched the rise and fall of many relationships, where both parties cried for a period of time and then moved on with their lives as necessary. But they had more experience than you in this area; what if he didn’t like you that way? What if you had been right the first time and he was toying with you? What if you confessed and ruined everything?

You were finally getting a taste of how the other people felt, but unlike them, you had nobody to turn to for advice other than Thoma. It was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time— you were finally experiencing what you had thought you could never achieve, and that thought scared you to no end.

“Then?” He prompted, an inquisitive look in his eyes that made you want to melt into a puddle and right into the nearest sewer drain.

“Then- then…” Your mind raced for something, anything to answer him with; you couldn’t exactly tell him what you had really been thinking. “How did you live your whole life before you met them? It doesn't really make sense."

Thoma laughed, a warm sound that rang like wind-chimes in the breeze. "Romance doesn't always have to make sense. I think that that's part of- y'know? The whole appeal?" He tugged on your arm, pulling you to walk on the side of the pavement away from the street. “Mind your step, now.”

Well, he did have a point— you admitted that much to yourself. But it still felt too far away from reality for you to grasp, the whole… idea of someone just finding so much happiness with another person, just like that. It was still difficult for you to even process that you currently had romantic feelings for someone.

(There, you said it. Just admitting it to yourself made you want to run away into the woods to never be found again.)

But to like- no, to love someone enough to discard all logic and rules of reality for them— maybe it was something that could happen to other people, but for someone to feel that towards you? Someone like Thoma?

...Highly improbable.

"I don't really understand, but sure." You scuffed a tiny pebble towards Thoma. "I can sort of get what you mean when it applies to other people, but trying to see it from a first-hand perspective is beyond my capabilities."

“I’m sure you’ll experience it sometime in the future,” He replied, kicking the pebble back towards you.

“You don’t have to comfort me, Thoma.”

Thoma stopped in his tracks with an unhappy look on his face, and your heart clenched— it was at times like this that he looked most like a puppy. All he needed were a pair of droopy ears and a tail.

But instead of giving a scolding like you had expected, Thoma simply pointed ahead and said, “Look.”

Turning to look at the road in front of you, you squinted your eyes and tried to look at what Thoma was seeing; it was just like any other road that you had travelled, completely empty except for a bunch of fluttering dead leaves.

“Wow, um. A road. Such an amazing stretch of concrete.”

Thoma sighed and drew a hand over his face, though it did very little to hide the smile growing behind it. "It's not just a road. This is where we first met."

Wait, what?

“Didn’t we meet outside of our classroom…?” Your brain went completely blank as you frantically tried to recall meeting anyone here in this area— no, surely you wouldn’t have forgotten someone like Thoma. There was no way, especially with that blindingly bright aura of his that was the delight of all dentists and the enemy of opticians everywhere.

(Then again, you couldn’t exactly account for how little you paid attention to your surroundings prior to befriending Thoma. He could’ve waltzed right up to you with a rose between his teeth and you wouldn’t even have noticed.)

“You might not remember because you were probably distracted, but this was where I saw you for the first time.” Thoma continued, his smile growing bigger as he recalled what was hopefully a pleasant first encounter. “After that day, I really wondered who you were and tried to find you. Who would’ve known that we had been in the same class this whole time?”

Your fingers twitched nervously— the soft look on Thoma’s face was dangerous, too dangerous for your heart. The sight sent unleashed a swarm of nervous little butterflies in your stomach, all of them fluttering with one burning question: just what about your first meeting made him smile so much?

All you could do was pray that it was a good memory that he was talking about.

Though you did not remember your first meeting with him, Thoma certainly did, for it was something he could never forget. It had been the first day of the new term, when he was still unfamiliar with the route going to and from school.

That day he had stopped by the side of the road to try and figure out where exactly he had gone off-course, peering at the directions his dad had written for him on a scrap of paper— if he was going to be honest, it would've been easier to decipher hieroglyphs on an ancient, crumbling relic than to read his dad's writing.

“Are you headed for the school near here?”

He then turned and saw a stranger, one who stood on the opposite side of the road and gazed up at the sky with a faraway look in your eyes; the uniform you wore had the same school colours as Thoma’s, so it was safe to assume that you were also a student at his ever-elusive school.

“Ah- yes, I am.” Thoma said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “But I think I may have gotten lost…”

“No, actually.” Your reply was blunt but polite, a sense of no-nonsense that gave the impression that you were used to dealing with situations like these. “Just turn left at the crossroads and head straight till you see it.”

Thoma’s gaze followed to where you were pointing, and suddenly he remembered the directions perfectly— yes, this had been the right way to go after all. He heaved a sigh of relief and said, “Thanks for helping me out... I think I remember the way now.”

“No problem.” You returned to as you were, gazing at the roof of tree-branches overhead.

As he walked away, Thoma had suddenly felt the strong urge to look back, though he didn’t know exactly why. Perhaps it was fate, or maybe it was his gut feeling telling him something; either way, he wasn’t one to ignore his instincts.

He glanced behind him and did a double-take, freezing in place like a pillar of salt.

A faint humming of a song filled the air, the tune familiar yet alien to his ears. For a split-second, Thoma’s entire world held its breath in anticipation and waited— he watched breathlessly as you reached up with one hand, admiring the way the sunlight filtered through the leaves. The faintest of smiles worked its way up your face, the sound of soft laughter sending his heart crashing and racing tumultously in a way it had never done before.

The sound of his heartbeat slowly grew louder, drowning out your song with a deafening pulse— Thoma’s world turned hot and cold at the same time, everything sent into chaos at the presence of a strange new feeling.

He hesitated, lingering on the edge of the sidewalk like a fool who had lost his tongue; part of him wanted to call out and ask for your name, but at the same time Thoma did not want to disrupt the beautiful scene before him. In a daze, he slowly stepped away and crossed the road, the sound of your laughter painting itself into his memory like a bright, colourful melody.

(Said laughter also inadvertently had sent him crashing into a nearby signpost not long afterwards, but he deliberately chose to forget this particular detail in order to preserve the memory. )

And so Thoma spent his first day of school with an ice-pack glued to his forehead and a strange fluttering in his stomach that didn’t seem to go away, no matter how hard he tried.

“Thoma. Hoy, earth to Thoma.” You waved a hand in front of his face, but Thoma remained unmoving. “What are you doing, having a flashback sequence?”

He snapped out of his daze and smiled apologetically, making you even more puzzled than before. “Sorry, got caught up in my thoughts there.”

“What were you even thinking about…?”

“Hehe, that’s a secret.” Thoma tilted his head with that almost-sly look in his eyes, sending your pulse into overdrive all over again; it did not help that his hair did its usual habit of flopping to the side and making it appear as if he had puppy ears. “Let’s hurry up and cross while there are no cars.”

“You’re stingy.” You scoffed and continued walking— it seemed that you wouldn’t get an answer from him today. You’d probably have to wrestle it out of Thoma at another time.

Well, at least you learned two more useful things today: Thoma actually remembered his first meeting with you, and that you were…. probably in deeper trouble than you had initially anticipated. How wonderful.

But all the same, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. The very fact that Thoma cared enough to remember where you first met (even if you didn’t remember, much to the pricking of your guilty conscience), to be able to get dragged around by him to places you’d never been…

This is enough for me, you assured yourself. To remain at this distance from Thoma, close enough to warm your hands without getting burnt— if you didn’t make a wrong move, you could remain happy forever.

Unbeknownst to you, Thoma smiled as he lifted your backpack by the handle. As long as he didn’t make a wrong move, you wouldn’t find out about him lifting the extra weight off of your shoulders. And if the burden was lighter, than perhaps…

He recalled the faint smile, the chime of your laughter that still echoed in his ears like wedding-bells, and promptly flushed red. Someday, he’d answer your question when he was ready.

#tellerluna.tales: to find a home in your heart #tellerluna.rkive: genshin #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #thoma #thoma genshin impact #thoma genshin #genshin impact thoma #genshin thoma #thoma scenarios #thoma headcanons #thoma fluff #thoma angst #thoma x reader #thoma x you #thoma x y/n #thoma x gender neutral reader #strangers to lovers #highschool au #love at first sight

[tellerluna-stories]

episode 03: boss dog to the rescue!

CONTENTS: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. m.list!

TW/CW: there is bread and it is eaten, and it is an important part of the plot. idk how to explain it in a way that doesn't sound absurd,,, BASTA MAY TINAPAY DITO HAHAHAHA

A/N: this chapter is dedicated to the stars to my moon, the lovely @byeol-ssi!! hope you enjoy the fluffiness hehe <33. also!!! I probably won't be able to update regularly for a while because some majour stuff came up irl and I don't think I'll be able to write until everything's settled. thank you for understanding~~

“Good morning!”

“Do you need help with that?”

“Oh hey, wanna walk to class together?”

“See you tomorrow!”

For the past few weeks (yes, weeks), your ears had been ringing with the sound of barking— er, the chipper sound of Thoma’s voice as he kept hanging around you. You didn’t know exactly why he was so insistent on going out of his way to talk to you, but he didn’t seem to have any ill intentions or ulterior motives, so you let him do whatever he pleased.

…That, and perhaps he had grown on you a little bit. Just a little.

Anyway, today was a weekend, so you wouldn’t see the puppy-boy. The weekend was a precious, precious time for you, whose social battery was easily drained; it was a time you reserved solely for yourself to recuperate after all the stress that the weekdays brought. So on this fine day, you decided to venture into The Great Outdoors on a great and noble quest to purchase the finest rations that a relaxing weekend would require. In this case, that meant freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery.

There was a lively spring to your step as you walked, mouth watering slightly as you thought about all the warm bread that awaited you; normally you preferred to stay indoors and hide from the light of day, but today was different. It was the perfect weather to walk outside— on days like these, the sun’s rays chose to play hide-and-seek over rooftops and through tree-branches, without scorching everything to death and blinding you for no good reason.

Hey, even someone who normally shunned the light of day would want to go outdoors once in a while, right?

You took a deep breath and savoured the gift of your senses; feeling the pleasant contrast between the faint warmth of asphalt through your shoes and the soft breeze that cooled your face, admiring the vibrant colour of lit by sunshine— and most importantly, smelling the bewitchingly sweet aroma of fresh bread that signalled you were close to your destination.

One step, two steps… just a few more paces before you completed your quest.

"Whoa, Taroumarou, slow down! Don’t tug on the leash like that, you’ll hurt yourself—"

You froze in your tracks, your entire body stiffening at the sound of a voice that was unfortunately all-too-familiar. Coming from just around the corner— no, it couldn’t be. You were hallucinating.

“Taroumarou- ugh, don’t pee in that flower-pot! That’s not your toilet!”

(Okay, maybe you weren't hallucinating, because if you were... was it possible to file a complaint to whatever part of your brain was in charge of creating hallucinations? Could you just ask to have this particular hallucination replaced?)

Your heart hammered against your ribs as you tiptoed to peek around the corner, praying fervently that you were mistaken. But still another part of you fluttered anxiously with hope— as to what you were hoping for, it was still unsure.

Blond hair that shone like gold in the sunlight.

Emerald-green eyes framed with long, sun-kissed lashes.

A pair of strong, slender hands that grasped onto the leash of an absolute unit of a fluffy dog, who was blessed with fur that almost matched the colour of his owner’s hair and was almost as fluffy.

Lips that curved into an exasperated smile, gently reprimanding said dog as his owner tried to persuade him to change his choice of toilet.

It was almost comedic, really— just an ordinary student struggling to walk his dog on a fine afternoon, an ordinary scene that you’d pass by without a second thought. On any other day you'd have ignored him and continued to walk through the world in your own protective bubble so you wouldn’t get invested in the lives of other people... yet here you stood, absolutely spellbound by this stranger.

The puppy-boy laughed and shook his head, leaning down to scratch his dog under the chin, and a strange shudder ran down your spine. It was like scales had fallen from your eyes, revealing the Thoma that you had never seen before— or perhaps never wanted to see until now.

Your heart knocked against your ribs, once, twice, and then paused a beat.

“Thoma?”

His name slipped from your lips before you could catch yourself, and the boy eagerly perked up at the sound of his name, just like when you had first met. “Oh, it’s you! I didn’t expect to run into you here.” Thoma tugged on Taroumarou’s leash lightly, gently nudging the dog forward with his foot. “Taroumarou, say hello to my classmate.”

“Ah… hello, Taroumarou.”

The dog trundled towards you, snuffling around your legs and shoes till it was satisfied and gave an approving woof.

“Looks like he likes you,” Thoma grinned, squatting down to scratch Taroumarou behind his ears. “It’s not that easy to get the approval of Boss Dog over here, so you must be quite extraordinary for him to favour you like this.”

“Is that so?” Squatting down at a carefully calculated distance from Thoma (for decency's sake, you rationalised), you leaned closer to peer at Taroumarou’s dark eyes and fluffy cheeks. “Say, Taroumarou, may I pet you?”

(Now, under normal circumstances you'd have retained your more reserved persona around people you weren't close with, but in this case... what could you do? There was a very cute, fluffy dog just within reach, and if it wasn't obvious enough, you had a particular weakness for puppies.)

Boss Dog yipped, and Thoma leaned closer to listen as if he were the dog’s official interpreter. “What was that, boy? Can my- ew, don’t lick inside my ear! Gross!”

Both puppy-boy and puppy toppled onto the pavement as Taroumarou happily jumped up to lick Thoma’s face, and you couldn’t help it, you really couldn’t— you burst into laughter right then and there.

Not the polite, canned laughter that you used around people, no— it was the roaring, dying wheezes of someone who hadn't laughed this much since grade school, and your stomach muscles sorely paid the price for it. You barely stopped yourself from collapsing onto the pavement and howling like a hyena, but it didn't help one bit that the Boss Dog still kept jumping around Thoma like a little imp intent on eating earwax for a snack. Your lungs pleaded for mercy and your face ached from all the smiling, but all you could do was to laugh even harder.

Meanwhile, the source of your laughter froze rigidly, his brain slowly processing what was going on as Taroumarou frisked around him. It was the first time he’d ever seen you smile, let alone burst into a fit of laughter that had you whacking your palm against the concrete and tears rolling down your face.

Well, technically it wasn’t the first time, but still— the smiling, giggling version of you that stood before him now, it was because of something he (and Taroumarou) did. You were smiling because of him.

“Ah- I’m sorry.” You wheezed, brushing a stray tear from your eye. “I promise I wasn’t laughing because you fell. It just was so funny to see Taroumarou hopping around like that…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get you there.” Thoma’s face lit up eagerly, his own nonexistent tail wagging behind him. “But he’s not always this crazy, I promise! He’s usually more well-behaved.”

“It’s alright.” Smiling, you scratched Taroumarou behind his ears and reveled in the fluffiness of the Boss Dog. “He seems to be a good boy, whether he’s frisking around or being polite. Aren’t you, Taroumarou?”

Thoma’s furry look-alike rubbed his cheek against your leg and yipped happily. Letting someone from school see you like this was out of character for you, but for some reason you didn’t care anymore.

It suddenly occurred to you that you had no idea on how to proceed from here; you had greeted your classmate, laughed in his face, and from there… what did people even do when they encountered an acquaintance outside of a school or work setting? You didn’t know the standard procedures, but you were pretty sure that it required small talk and some sort of food.

Speaking of food... you'd almost forgotten the reason why you had set out on this journey today.

"Do you like bread?" You suddenly blurted out, realising how stupid the question sounded as soon as it left your mouth (ah, your gift for eloquence was truly unmatched). "There's a good bakery nearby, and they usually bring out the batch for the evening around this time."

Taroumarou perked up at the suggestion, while Thoma's eyebrows shot up in interest. "As a matter of fact, I do like bread. Even more so when it's fresh."

Your mind went completely blank. You had no idea you’d get this far, so now what were you supposed to do?

“That’s good!” Stiffly, you jumped to your feet and marched off in what was hopefully the right direction. "It’s this way.”

Behind you, the dog and his owner exchanged glances before Taroumarou lurched forward. With a strength that could've rivalled King Arthur himself when he pulled out the sword Excalibur, the Boss Dog practically dragged Thoma to follow after you.

“Taroumarou, wait!” Thoma stumbled, just barely catching the leash that nearly slipped out of his hands. “You’re acting really weird today, boy…”

If only you could go back in time and smack your past self. Or say thank you. You no longer knew which one was the more practical option.

For some reason, you had thought it was a great idea to share your closest-guarded secret, the source of all baked goods divine… with a puppy boy. A very nice, friendly puppy-boy who you could admit was not bad-looking, but he was still an outsider.

A piping-hot bag of assorted bread sat on the little portion of bench between you and Thoma, effectively acting as a barrier to prevent your sanity from disintegrating completely. The look the owner had given you when you’d arrived with a pretty boy in tow was embarassing enough as it was.

This was supposed to be a quiet, peaceful afternoon, you lamented as you nibbled on a piece of bread. You could barely taste it.

“Whoa, the bread here is delicious!” Thoma exclaimed, blissfully oblivious to your inner turmoil. He tore off a tiny piece and tossed it to the ground for Taroumarou to taste. “Here boy, let me know what you think.”

Judging from the way the Boss Dog greedily licked up the little chunk of bread, this bakery also had his paw-print of approval.

“Well, uh… I’m glad you like it.“ You felt the eyes of the store-owner lasering in on you from all the way behind the counter— as far as you knew, she was just an excellent baker who gave you discounts for being a regular, but the fact that you could feel the intensity of her gaze from where you sat outside the bakery made you question if she was secretly some sort of superhuman. “Not a lot of people know about this place, so it’s rarely crowded.”

“You’re joking, right? This place is a hidden gem.”

"In a way, it's also a blessing in disguise. No crowds, no long lines..." Sighing in contentment, you slumped against the back of the bench a là shrimp posture. "I kept this place a secret ever since I found it, just so that it would stay that way. Haven't told a soul."

You froze the minute the words left your mouth; saying it like that might imply that you were entrusting some important secret of yours with Thoma. What if he misunderstood your intentions and thought you were flirting with him? That had been an unfortunately common problem among all your advice-seekers, and it would be humiliating to have to clear up the misunderstanding after you'd scolded so many people for doing the exact same thing.

“Yeah, I kinda understand why.” Thoma mused, his attention wholly fixed on his food. If he had misunderstood you, he showed no signs of it. “Seriously, this is amazing— I should take notes for the next time I bake bread.”

“…You can bake?”

“Yep. It’s kind of like my hobby, along with cooking and cleaning.”

The most absurd image come to mind— ‘Everyone’s Thoma’ opening a window while dressed in full housekeeping gear, complete with rubber gloves and a handkerchief to keep his hair out of his face. You briefly wondered if he was the type to wield a feather duster or a broom as his weapon of choice (for cleaning, of course).

Come to think of it, today was the first time you’d seen him outside of school. In school he was always well-behaved and a perfect gentleman, the dreamy student who everyone adored. It was Thoma’s natural disposition to behave the way he did on campus, but… there was something that was just a touch off from his usual self.

"You seem more relaxed today," You remarked, eyeing the boy who sat next to you. Taroumarou eagerly sniffed the ground, tangling his leash around your shins in his search for fallen crumbs.

"Well, I do suppose so. Weekends are a way for me to destress from the weekdays and all the worries that come with it." He replied, munching thoughtfully on the piece of bread. "I don't want to sound ungrateful for the things I have but... there are a lot of people who have expectations for me, and I don't want to let those people down."

Oh.

You'd had the impression that Thoma was just some generic popular boy who all the students swooned and sighed for, like the male love interest straight out of a cheesy high-school romance story— but apparently you had misjudged him.

Similar to your reputation as a relationship counselor, being 'Everyone's Thoma' was a burden, though one laden with good intentions and well-wishes from others. Because he always looked after everyone and brought joy to hearts of people around him, it became something those people began to take for granted and then even expect from him. It never crossed their minds that sometimes, the person who did all of these things might get worn out; in that sense, he wasn't so different from you, except that it was only even further magnified because of how many people looked up to him.

You had the privilege of slinking into the shadows and disappearing unnoticed, while Thoma... didn't.

Shame flushed hot in your face, gnawing at your stomach with pointy little fangs of guilt. "It must be tiring to deal with all of that."

"Ah, well... not most of the time. It only gets particularly draining on my bad days." Thoma popped the last of his bread into his mouth and smiled cheerfully, as if to say ‘don’t worry about it’.

The people who tell you not to worry about how they feel are usually the ones you should worry about most, you incorrigible pup.

Of all the people and relationships you'd seen and encountered, it always was the ones who disregarded their own feelings who suffered the most. You'd seen one too many girls weeping over a foolish lover not worth their time, pushing their feelings of hurt and grief deep down inside just because they thought that that was how it was to be in love. It was the same with friendships, and in Thoma's case too; if one person disregards their own feelings of stress and emotional pain in order to please the other party, then there was a high chance that the relationship wouldn't last unless something was done about those feelings.

"You know, every once in a while you should live your life for yourself. It wouldn't do you any harm to take care of yourself first."

The words were almost the same as what you had told many of the advice-seekers who begged for your assistance. Take care of yourself first, prioritise yourself— you'd said it so many times till the phrase was hollowed out into an empty formality, lingering on the tip of your tongue like a bitter pill. Over time, your advice became a poison that numbed the senses of the one who gave it out.

But for some reason, you had a faint notion that things had changed.

"Well, this is just my opinion, and well... I don't..." You scratched the back of your head, trying to think of the right words to say. "I don't know if I understand your situation entirely, so I may get things wrong."

He smiled as he fished for a new piece of bread, the corners of his eyes crinkling up like freshly-bloomed flower petals in a way that sent an electric shock tingling down your spine. "It's alright, really. I'd like to hear your thoughts on it anyway."

"You're- well... you're kinda like this bread."

Brilliant. Harvard would be begging on their knees for you to attend their university if they heard you now.

All three of you stared at the half-bitten piece of bread in your hand, although the expression on Taroumarou’s face looked more hungry than anything. Judging from the extremely judgemental aura radiating from behind, the owner had also overheard you.

"How…” Thoma blinked uncertainly. “How am I supposed to take that?"

"As a compliment...?" At that moment, you wanted nothing more but to melt through the ground to be absorbed into plant food. That way you could at least contribute to the well-being of any future ecosystems and make something worthwhile out of your embarassing existence.

The Boss Dog nudged Thoma’s ankle and whined softly, giving you a beady side-eye that would’ve made a grown man cry; compared to his master, Taroumarou was certainly not as merciful to your feelings.

"…Uh, would it be too much for me to assume that you're implying I'm a snack?"

"What— no! That's not what I meant." You spluttered furiously, flailing your hands about as you tried to deny any existence of an unintentional pick-up line. "That wasn’t my intention at all, I promise!”

He snorted and turned his face away, using the bread in his hand to act as a shield (like that would have done anything to conceal his laughter.) “No worries, I’m just joking. I figured you didn’t mean it like that… unless you actually did—“

“Don’t remind me!”

“Haha, alright, alright. I’ll let you finish.” Thoma lowered his bread to reveal a lopsided grin, a slightly teasing lilt to his tone of voice. His golden hair floofed up like a little cloud, giving him the illusion of two puppy-dog ears sprouting from the top of his head.

Cute, a small part of you remarked.

Once you realised what you had just dared to think, your plans to become compost were immediately placed at the top of your priority list. That’s it, you were definitely losing it and it was all his fault.

“Anyway, as I was saying.” You cleared your throat and gestured to your piece of bread. “You’re like this bread.”

“How so, prof?” He shifted to face you, crossing his legs and propping his chin on his hands like he was listening to a teacher. Emerald-green eyes sparkled with such attentiveness that it was starting to make you feel embarassed all over again, which was not helpful at all.

“…Do you want the long or short explanation?”

“I’d like the short explanation, please.”

“You- well…” It was somewhat awkward to say it aloud, but you had already dug your grave and now was the time to lie in it. “I don’t know exactly how to phrase it, but you sort of have the aura of fresh-baked bread. Like... when you’re around other people.”

Thoma’s eyebrows shot up in confusion, his nonexistent ears flopping to one side as he tilted his head. Taroumarou followed the example of his master, looking at you with such adorable confusion that you almost lost your cool. The audacity of these puppies to be so cute…

Luckily your counselor side took over before you had another meltdown, allowing you to continue without incident. “I think that’s what makes people gravitate to you so easily. Do you see how everyone swarms to buy bread in the cafeteria when there’s a fresh batch?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s always difficult to buy anything during that time.”

Your brain was running on fumes at this point— just what exactly had been your point here? It had been quite some time since you’d counselled someone and you hadn’t had the time to prepare yourself as you usually did. The expectant look on Thoma’s face as he gazed intently at you… well, needless to say, it was not helping your thinking process.

But you wanted to at least tell him something that would make him feel better; you didn’t know why, or how you would do it, but you just knew that you wanted to do it.

And fine, maybe you were just a bit worried about him. Call it sympathy from one reliable person to another.

“The thing is… you’re not just some object that can just be pushed around and argued over like the cafeteria bread. You have thoughts and needs just like everyone else, and I don’t think it’d be particularly fair to yourself if you kept pushing those aside for what everyone else wants you to be.” You said quietly, lowering your hand. “You may be similar to freshly-baked bread, but that doesn’t mean you always have to keep giving your time and effort to other people."

Thoma didn’t reply, merely continuing to look at you with an odd, melancholic expression on his face. One finger slowly tapped against his cheek, tracing absent-minded circles there as he gazed into your eyes.

“Ah- I’m sorry. I think I overstepped there.” Hastily you shoved your bread into your mouth, focusing all of your effort on chewing and swallowing so that you wouldn’t have to deal with reality. Without even realising it, you’d slipped into complete counselor mode while talking to him— it seemed that your old habits still remained.

“There’s no need to apologise.” One side of his mouth quirked up into a wry grin. “I was just thinking about what you said, that’s all.”

“If anything about what I said was incorrect, I apologise for assuming. Just- I suppose you can forget about it.”

“No, it actually made me really happy to hear that.” Thoma replied, the little smile on his face growing even further. “Just as I thought, I really am in good hands when I’m with you. Thank you for looking out for me.”

Your face burned hotter than an oven; this puppy-boy really was out for your neck, wasn’t he.

“Ah, the bread’s almost gone! Here, have another piece— you’ve barely eaten anything.”

A piece of bread was promptly thrust in your hands, still warm to the touch— though you had to admit that it wasn’t as warm as the feeling spreading in your chest. Thoma crossed his arms with an air of satisfaction, looking like a proud housewife who had just fed her guests with her hard efforts.

It almost made you want to burst out laughing all over again.

This side of him is definitely different, you decided. But it was a nice side to discover, one that made him a little more human than all the achievements and gushing flattery that were attached to him by others.

Unconsciously, you smiled a little as you bit into the bread he had given you. Oddly enough, it seemed to taste better than when you'd sit on this very bench and eat in solitude— perhaps there was some merit to the saying that food tasted better with company.

"Hey, I just thought of something." Thoma said aloud, nudging Taroumarou slightly with his foot in order to stretch his legs.

"What is it?"

"When you explained the sort of aura I have around other people, I started thinking about what kind of feeling you would have. I've come to the conclusion that you're just like this bakery."

"...How am I even supposed to take that?"

"Well, same as yours. It's a compliment." A different facial expression crept on his features— a look that you almost would've described as sly, if it weren't for how angelic his face naturally looked. To you, it was both amusing and unnerving at the same time.

You paused mid-bite to give him an unimpressed stare. “At least I explained why I thought you were like bread. Where’s your explanation?”

Thoma hummed softly, an amused look in his eyes as he rocked back and forth in his seat. “Maybe another time.”

“Well that’s unfair.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll definitely explain it to you. Boss Dog here is our witness.”

Taroumarou barked in agreement, wagging his tail eagerly as he eyed the bread in your hand. You finished off your bread with a resigned sigh, accepting your fate; maybe making you squirm was just another part of Thoma’s personality.

Quietly, you admired Taroumarou for a few moments, running your fingers through his soft fur and savouring the fluffiness against your fingertips; a small part of you wondered if Thoma’s hair was fluffier, but you quickly dismissed the intrusive thought.

Still, your fingers twitched impulsively as you stole glances at Thoma’s loose, fluffy locks, and you decided that perhaps it was best for you to retire before you did anything rash. You already had several close calls today, and you didn't want to create any more memories that would cause you to scream into your pillow at night from sheer embarrassment.

“Sorry, but I can't stay too long. It's already getting late.” You brushed off the crumbs from your clothes and stood up.

“Oh... I see.” He looked almost regretful at the thought of you leaving (or perhaps it was just your wishful thinking). “In that case, don’t let me keep you.”

“It was… nice to see you today.” The words were no empty formality, you realised; you had genuinely enjoyed getting to see him today. And even more strange was the fact that your social battery was still full, perhaps even revitalised after running into Thoma and Taroumarou.

“Likewise.” Taroumarou yipped happily as Thoma did a little salute and grinned, sending your heart skipping like a lovesick school-girl’s. “Boss Dog says it was nice to see you, too.”

"Ah, um... if it's possible, could I see Taroumarou once in a while?"

"Just Taroumarou?"

You turned back and stared at him, completely lost on how to even respond to that question.

"Ah, you don't have to answer that if you don't want to." Thoma leaned back against the wall and gave you an amused smile, a perfect picture of relaxation in the fading sunlight. "I always walk him around this area, so maybe you can see him the next time you go out for bread."

“That- that’s a great idea.” You gave him an awkward thumbs-up in response, cringing at how stiff you sounded. Something in your chest melted into a mushy, gooey puddle as soon as Thoma tilted his head to face you, his sparkly puppy-boy eyes in full effect.

"We should do this again sometime. Taroumarou really seemed to enjoy getting bread with you today." He lightly shook Boss Dog's leash and patted him on the head. "As did I, of course."

His sincerity took you off-guard, as it always did; how could he live like that, with his heart on his sleeve for everyone to see? Yet at the same time, it didn’t seem like such a terrible way to live.

If all he had given you was his honesty, then it was only fair that you pay him back in a like manner— that was how you rationalised it, anyway.

“…Hey, Thoma.” The following words sat heavily on your tongue like a lump of iron; you weren’t sure if you were close enough for you to say something so… brazen.

"Yes?" A soft smile bloomed over his features, his eyes aglow with warmth that made your heart skip in strange ways and filled you with a strange, reckless courage; did Thoma always smile so gently when he looked at you?

"See you on Monday." You finished the outrageous statement with what hopefully passed for a friendly smile, and waved goodbye. Before Thoma could answer, you scampered off, your stomach twisting in knots as your words burned themselves into your auditory memory permanently— oh, you really hoped you didn’t just embarass yourself. “You can have the rest of the bread!”

The Boss Dog wondered why his subordinate sat there for such an extraordinarily long time, an unmoving statue even as Taroumarou wriggled himself into Thoma’s lap. His eyes remained dazed and unfocused despite Taroumarou’s best efforts to rouse Thoma from his stupor— what a strange boy. Was Thoma behaving this way because of the other human?

He tilted his head and sneezed, the scent of bread wafting temptingly in his nostrils; Taroumarou was a dignified dog of noble breeding who scorned to behave in a way that was beneath one of his pedigree, but for the sake of his subordinate he had nobly sacrificed his dignity in order to gain extra time with the strange human. Begging for crumbs, yanking on his leash in an undignified manner, even going so far to stall for time by peeing on a flower-pot when he had smelled the nice human from around the corner. Taroumarou recognised the scent from all the times his subordinate came home from school with a giddy smile on his face, the distinct smell of that particular human still lingering on his uniform.

Everything he had done was all because Thoma had seemed so happy when he saw that person— if his subordinate had been a dog, his tail would’ve been wagging non-stop. But now Thoma was very still, like one of those garishly-painted statues in the garden that Taroumarou had deemed as his sworn enemies.

The Boss Dog thought long and hard, pondering as to what could have brought his subordinate into such a state; could it be that this was Thoma’s first time courting?

Well, that seemed to be the only logical answer; the only other answer that Taroumarou could think of was that Thoma really had become one of those urban nightmares also known as the garden gnome. The Boss Dog whimpered slightly— he didn't like that notion at all.

He nudged Thoma’s arm once more, desperately hoping that his efforts would not be in vain. Finally, just when Taroumarou was about to bring out his genius last resort (which was to pee in Thoma’s lap) in order to save his subordinate from an eternity spent as a statue, Thoma spoke.

“Taroumarou, boy…” A strange, giddy smile curved upwards on Thoma’s face, the thrumming of his heartbeat reverberating through his entire body. “I think I’m in big trouble.”

Taroumarou rolled his eyes in a mixture of relief and disgust, nuzzling his snout into the crook of Thoma’s knee. Humans were strange creatures.

#tellerluna.tales: to find a home in your heart #tellerluna.rkive: genshin #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact headcanons #thoma #genshin impact thoma #thoma genshin impact #thoma x y/n #thoma x you #thoma x reader #thoma fluff #thoma headcanons #thoma scenarios #highschool au #strangers to lovers

[tellerluna-stories]

veneration.

PAIRING: scaramouche x reader

GENRE: canon-compliant. belligerent romantic tension, flirting but not quite flirting, the trope of helping the other get ready for an important event.

TW/CW: slight spoilers for 3.2 archon quest (although it was literally revealed in the livestream so idk if it counts as spoilers).

A/N: boo, I'm alive (sort of.) I can't believe I'm writing for emo pinocchio, much less simping for him (yes, @x-zho and @byeol-ssi you read that correctly),,,, but HEY IF THIS DRABBLE GETS ME OUTTA BURNOUT DEPRESSION Y NAT COCONUT

"How fares your one follower, Lord Harbinger?"

The Balladeer pauses in the middle of what he's doing, a tangle of energy tubes falling around his ankles like an undignified noodle dish. Your voice is carefully, perfectly even, your eyes steadily fixed on your book as if nothing was the matter.

"Haypasia? Well, she's the first of many to come, so of course she is someone of great prestige in my eyes."

He enjoys the faint flicker in your eyes, choking back a taunting smile as your grip tightens on your book. To say that he held affection for you would be staunchly denied, but there was nothing Scaramouche delighted in more than to wear your nerves out.

"As she should be. Never forget the service she has done you, sir."

"And what of the service you owe me?" He retorts. "I don't recall summoning you here just so you could sit and recite pretty words to me while I do all the work."

An exasperated sigh and a slight rustle as you get up from your chair, followed by the echoing sound of your footsteps as you began climbing the stairs to the head of his soon-to-be divine vessel. "I had assumed that you wouldn't want my assistance until I was called for."

"I'm sure Haypasia would have willingly volunteered to assist me." Scaramouche remarks idly, tracing a finger along the polished metal. "When it comes to loyalty to me, I'm sure that that girl is second to none."

Silence, just as expected. Your face is pristinely neutral when you reach the top of the stairs and place the book on the floor, but he knows better; he knows how the blood surges in your veins in not-quite-jealousy, how the air catches in your throat at the thought of someone being better devoted to him.

Up until now, the Balladeer had had a hard time finding an edge over your nonchalant nature, with any sharp jabs left blithely ignored or rebutted, with no room for nonsense— for out of all the people who dared test their bravery by working with him, you were one of the few who had remained mostly unaffected by his short temper.

But with a certain researcher in the equation, it seems that he had a new — and most entertaining — way to push your buttons.

"You shouldn't have tangled up the tethers like this, sir." You kneel down to untangle the mess of cables at his already-tethered feet, your hair falling forward to conceal your face. "The Doctor would not be pleased if something were to malfunction tomorrow due to something as minor as this."

He stands stock-still as your hands trace along the length of his arm, searching for where to attach the cables to his wrists and shoulders, your fingertips brushing against his back as you check for any loosened tethers; to an outsider, it would seem that you were merely performing the duties of a faithful assistant. But every move and word was choreographed, designed to bring out your true intentions under the guise of professionalism.

"Tell me," The Balladeer asks, a taunting lilt to his voice. "What sort of book are you reading that distracts you from my glory?"

"Just something I picked up in the Grand Bazaar." You reply, and soft hands brush against the sides of his neck, reaching to safely tether him to his vessel. "A book of short essays and poetry, written by some obscure but well-read author."

"What sort of poetry?" Scaramouche keeps his gaze locked on yours, pretending to be unaffected by the way your arms enclosed the air around him, the close proximity between the two of you. The fun part of the game was to never reveal your hand of cards, after all.

"The usual; some about life, or loss. The seasons, and some about places the author had been to." Your eyes briefly flicker to meet his. "Love poems, too."

He cannot help but smirk, knowing full well at what you were playing at; the two of you had an unspoken agreement, a mutual push and pull as you aimed to tear each other's heartstrings out and have the other dancing in the palm of their hand. "Care to recite one, then? I'd like to see if you can actually spew pleasant words for once."

"If that is what the Lord Harbinger wishes," was your response, your gaze drifting away to focus on adjusting the tethers on his hands and wrists one last time. "There is one piece that I particularly enjoy; allow me to retrieve my book so that I may read that to you."

You were clever— he had to admit as much. This very well could have been your plan all along, to grab his attention with a book that you were certain would make an impression on him; he would not put it past you to have made such a bold plan.

But since the Balladeer was soon to achieve his lifelong goal, he was feeling generous tonight— he would indulge your little schemes for today, just this once.

"Ah, here it is." You straighten up, the pages rustling as you flip to the correct page. "This essay is rather long, but this particular excerpt is my favourite."

Scaramouche watches as you begin to pace back and forth aimlessly, your lips parting to take a deep breath in preparation... and he waits. He waits for the next move in the chess game, for his turn to come.

"Look up to the stars, and remember the light in my eyes." One finger traces idly along the page, your eyes following it intently as if to bore a hole through the paper. "Look to the east, the rosy dawn, and think of my lips, sweetened with the honey of memories with you."

"But furthermore, evermore, I beg of you, my darling..." Your feet shift to wander towards him, stepping closer and closer till you were only a few paces away from where he stood.

"...Look at me and only me forevermore." You recited, tilting his head upwards with the edge of your book, your warm breath fanning his cheeks as you leaned ever-closer. "Are these the sort of words you'd like to hear from me, Lord Harbinger?"

"Hah." A chuckle escapes his mouth before he can stop himself— really, truly, this was all too entertaining! "That all depends on what I am to you."

"What I am to you is the same as what you are to me." For the first time that evening you smiled, a mirror of the same smile he had now; the air of both challenge and taunt hidden behind the guise of a pleasant expression. "I wish you good luck on your promotion tomorrow, Lord Harbinger."

#tellerluna.tales #tellerluna.rkive: genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin ​scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x gn reader #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst #kunikuzushi #kunukuzushi x reader #kunukuzushi fluff #wanderer #wanderer genshin impact

[tellerluna-stories]

intertwined fates.

'please,' you silently pray, fingers interlaced tightly over the precious thing cradled in your hands.

one last wish remains in your palm, your last hope that your fate will intertwine with the one you've been waiting for. you'd waited so long for this day— too long, almost.

hands trembling, you raise the sparkling wish to the night sky and gently blow on it, watching it disintegrate into shimmering dust as the wind carries your hopes to the far corners of the land. in the distance a falling star falls from the heavens in response to your summons— your breath catches in your lungs as you try to make out what colour it is.

blue.

pink.

gold—?

your heart leaps into your throat as hope begins to swell; this had to be it. after all your hard work, it was impossible for it not to be—

the gold comet draws nearer and nearer, finally landing in front of you with a delicate poof! of dust. the light is too bright for you to see his facial features properly, but your lips curve into a smile anyway— you'd know that silhouette anywhere.

"I've finally come home," albedo says simply, a slight smile on his face. you can't help but break out into a full grin and cup your hands over your mouth, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes.

"welcome home, albedo."

#YEAH IDK WHAT THIS IS #BUT I WAS KINDA TOYING W THE CONCEPT OF HOW WISHING WOULD WORK WITH THE INGAME LORE AND CAME UP WITH THIS #AND THEN IM ON AN EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER BC I GOT ALBEDO #this is dedicated to all albedo wanters #AKA MINT #THIS IS FOR U #he will come home or ELSE #albedo x reader #albedo fluff #albedo genshin impact #genshin impact #kreideprinz #tellerluna.rkive: genshin #tellerluna.tales

[tellerluna-stories]

OK SOOOOOOOO I just wrote this on a whim because I made this post on my other blog and couldn't get the idea outta my head. will I write more of this in the future? WHO KNOWS,,, I haven't been able to write much because I have to write academic stuff (booooo) instead of writing fanfics (YAYYYYY)

anyway here, I hope u enjoy whatever this is!! my april fools prank on u guys is to post this and then forget abt it,, jkjk I might actually complete this if I feel like it (please read the other post for context first!)

"May I present to you our Lord Harbinger, Tartaglia, the eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers."

The creaking of leather boots is heard as a man strides forward confidently; his hair gleams auburn in the sunlight, and his mouth is twisted into a mischievous grin. A familiar look gleams in his blue eyes, twinkling with mirth— until their gaze sets upon you.

Suddenly you are six, your finger locked into a pinky promise with a boy no younger than you. A paper pinwheel is clutched in his other hand, pristine in condition despite the grubbiness of his tiny fingers.

"I, ____, pinky-promise to marry my beeeeeest friend... when I grow up," The boy chirps happily, mouth stretched into a gap-toothed grin. "Till deaf-"

"Till death, dummy." You lightly chop the top of his head with your hand, giggles bubbling up in your throat like a freshwater spring. "It's supposed to be 'till death do us part'."

"That's what I said, you meanie!"

"Suuuuuuure..."

"Lemme finish, okay?!" Your friend clears his throat pompously, preparing for a grand speech. "I, ___, pinky-promise to marry my best friend when we grow up. Till death do us part." He grins smugly, clearly proud of himself.

You open your mouth to reply, ready to seal your promise with the appropriate nursery rhyme, but then reality hits once more— the young man before you steps closer, a pained look in his eyes.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't an old friend of mine!" His voice is cheerfully hollow, echoing in the square of Monstadt like the chime of a church-bell. "It's been a while since we've seen each other, comrade."

Your fellow knights eye your reaction, their hands stealthily creeping up to where their weapons were sheathed. You can feel Diluc's crimson gaze boring into the back of your head, asking you questions that you wish would remain forever unanswered.

"So it seems we meet again," you force through gritted teeth, your tone tasting sickeningly cordial in your mouth. "What a coincidence, Lord Harbinger."

"It's a small world, indeed!" He slings his arm over your shoulders, seemingly unaware of the way your comrades-in-arms stiffen. "So this is what you've been up to when you left Snezhnaya to travel. I must say, it's quite a nice gig you've landed yourself here."

"I suppose so, Master Tartaglia."

"Oh, don't call me that! We go way back, after all." His gaze flicks to you, unreadable and unpredictable as ever. "You may call me Ajax, just like you did before."

You inhale sharply, hands trembling at your sides— was it fear? anger? Heartbreak, though you'd sworn to yourself that you'd never allow yourself to shed tears for this man again? Everything is spinning, reeling, and the only thing keeping you upright is the fact that Ajax is there to support you.

From a distance, Diluc stands and observes the exchange with cold, aloof eyes. He is not angry at you, no; but the source of his displeasure comes from the Fatui Harbinger who clings to you like a drowning man— a man who is the enemy of Monstadt, no less.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact angst #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact tartaglia #diluc x reader #tartaglia x reader #tellerluna.rkive: genshin #tellerluna.tales #havent posted fics in a while and I kinda feel bad abt it tbh :(( #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact childe #childe x reader #lmk if you would like to read this! feedback goes a long way my friends :D

[tellerluna-stories]

to wish upon a lantern

PAIRING: zhongli x adeptus! reader

GENRE: fluffy w very light angst~ contains mutual pining and oblivious idiots in love.

SUMMARY: and there was only one Xiao Lantern.

TW/CW: n/a.

A/N: am I the only one who thinks this song sounds like Zhongli’s singing it? because it really does and I can’t get this idea out of my head. also it probably is a bit messy since I stayed up till 3am writing this drabble BUT NO BETA HERE WE DIE LIKE MEN

“How do you find the Lantern Rite, o god of contracts?”

At your teasing words, the man walking by your side chuckles slightly, his ponytail swinging slightly from the movement. “I know not who you speak of, dear friend. I am merely a consultant at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor who wishes to earn an honest living for himself, nothing more and nothing less.”

“Certainly a noble wish to have.” You agree as you lean against the railing, suppressing a shiver as the cold harbor breeze bites through your clothes— you really ought to have brought a warmer coat. “But is that really the wish you want to write on your lantern, Zhongli?”

His amber eyes glow softly as he looks at the Xiao Lantern in his hands— looking at its intricate framework put together by his hands and the delicate watercolour patterns that were painstakingly painted on by yours, one would never be able to guess that it had been a last-minute job.

“Hm... I suppose that it is too ordinary a wish for a lantern such as this.” Zhongli steps closer to you, watching the way your eyes wander over Liyue Harbor, flitting from the floating lanterns to the festivities to finally stop on the immense replica of Skybracer in the center of the harbor. An unruly lock of hair strayed from its place behind your ear, and instinctively he reaches out to tuck it back into place.

“No, actually— achoo!” You sniffle a bit. “I think that as long as it is a wish that you truly want to come true, then it will always be worthy enough for this lantern.”

“But it isn’t exactly fair to both parties that only I write my wish, since we made this together.”

“It’s alright, I can just make another one!”

“I am the god of contracts, dear friend. To have a contract so unbalanced in favour of one party would be an insult to my work ethics.”

“Oh, so now you’re the god of contracts?”

“I never said I wasn’t, I merely said I knew not who he was. Rex Lapis may be the god of contracts, but I am Zhongli, and the two of us happen to be very different people who lead very different lives.” Zhongli tilts his head back, a wry smile on his face and an unreadable twinkle in his eye.

Somehow even if the wind is cold, a strange and unfamiliar warmth blooms in your chest, like a peach blossom in spring. But before the strange warmth could reach your face, you turn away and scoff.

“Tch. Are you willing to accept a compromise— a revision of the contract, if you will?”

“Mm...” He puts his hand to his chin, pretending to mull the idea over. “Perhaps, if I deem it fair and favourable to all parties involved.”

“How about we both write our wishes on the lantern? That way, it saves us the trouble of making another and resolves the issue of only one person writing their wish.” Seeing the perturbed look on Zhongli’s face, you hastily add, “We can write on opposite sides, if your wish is a more personal one. And I promise I won’t peek.”

“Done. The contract has been set in stone.” He holds out the Xiao Lantern, the light emanating from its plaustrite core pulsing gently. “You may go first, if you please.”

“Why me?”

“The one to propose the revision ought to be the one to first carry it out, don’t you think?”

“Ugh, fine—“

You roll your eyes lightheartedly as you take the lantern, setting off to find a flat surface so you could write your wish on it without fear of shaky hands or smudging the ink. “I’ll be back, Lord of Geo.”

“Wait— before you go.”

Zhongli unbuttons his coat and swings it over your shoulders, the heavy fabric practically drowning you in the sweet, old-fashioned scent of his perfume. “I’ve seen you shivering since we arrived, dear friend. Now, off you go.”

Before you can even stutter some sort of reply, he’s turned you around and sent you on your way with a gentle push on the small of your back.

Zhongli watches as you stumble off into the crowd and doesn’t look away till your form disappears among the bustling people.

A part of him yearns to follow you and take your hand, running through the streets of Liyue like a couple of children with no cares in the world. How many centuries had it been since he felt so alive?

He sighs and turns his gaze to the moon— the same moon that the two of you had watched rise and set over Liyue throughout all these years. So much time spent together, with you being the only friend he had left— and Zhongli still couldn’t even muster the courage to tell you the full truth. How he dreamed of a home far away from duty, perhaps hidden in the mountains he formed or on some distant shore; it mattered not whether it was a grand mansion or humble cottage, just as long as you were there by his side. How he longed to drop the ‘friend’ of ‘dear friend’ and even be so bold as to put a ‘my’ before it.

These were the wishes of the man, Zhongli— not Rex Lapis, nor even Morax. Just the man who he was now, the human he was supposed to be.

“Just as promised, I have returned!”

Your shoes clatter noisily on the pavement, Zhongli’s coat billowing out behind you like the wings of a swallow. “Here is the lantern, as promised.” You present the newly-inked Xiao Lantern to him with a flourish, then narrow your eyes skeptically. “You’d better not look at my wish, or I’ll have your head.”

“How can one be centuries old and still be so petty as that?” He remarks dryly. “Do you know to whom you speak?”

“I’m just saying—!” You turn away with a huff. “It is my duty to ensure that all parties follow through with their end of the bargain, as a certain someone appointed me to do so. Now hurry up and write your wish— here, you can use this.”

He takes the brush pen from your trembling fingers, noting the gentle warmth that spread through his hands when they brushed against yours.

A wish, eh?

Zhongli thinks of all the wishes he had made for the sake of others— for his fallen friends and comrades, that they finally found peace and respite from all the fighting they endured. For Liyue, that it would build itself into an unbreakable city that would flourish and thrive in spite of hardship, and for his people, that they would become a people that would be able to change the world in a way that would better it.

But those wishes were the wishes of Rex Lapis, and the people of Liyue no longer needed him.

And so for the first time in centuries, Zhongli wrote a wish that was solely his, one that was not born out of responsibility or need. Perhaps it was a little bit selfish, even, but it was something that he knew he truly wanted to come true.

“Done already?”

Zhongli nods in satisfaction, placing the brush pen in your outstretched palm. “I think I’ve chosen a wish that is worthy. And,” he adds as an afterthought, “I did not look at yours. If you were going to ask.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Ah, well.” Zhongli offers his arm to you, as the years of proper etiquette had drilled into him. “Shall we find a suitable place to release this, my dear— friend?”

Your heart stutters slightly at the pause between his words, and the strange warmth from earlier returns.

“I-I suppose we shall, then.” Taking his arm, you swallow the nervous fluttery feeling in your chest and smile brightly. “Lead the way, Zhongli.”

————————————————————

“Lantern Rite is fun for the most part, unless you’re a Millelith.” A young man complained to his coworker— judging from the pristine state of his armor and halberd, he was one of the newer recruits of the Millelith. “Why do we have to be stuck on clean-up duty? Xiao Lanterns are a pain to track down, and they get stuck in the most absurd of places.”

His companion rolled his eyes as he crouched down, inspecting the bushes for any stray lanterns that may have hidden themselves there. “If you hate this job so much, then why’d you sign up for it in the first place, you ninny?”

“Oh because I’m an honourable citizen of Liyue— what do you think? My father forced me to because he thinks painting isn’t a job. Honestly, painting supplies are cheaper than weapons and armor, so why is it a problem with him—”

Ignoring the stream of complaints, his companion knelt as he peered into the bushes. He was almost certain he had seen something here—

“Gotcha!”

He pulled out a Xiao Lantern from the underbrush and held it up triumphantly. Though Lantern Rite had ended a few days ago, the core of the lantern still glowed faintly. Upon further inspection, the structure of the lantern was more complex than the simpler designs the ordinary folk preferred, and the delicate brushstrokes of carefully chosen colour had to be the work of an artisan, at the very least.

But who?

The young man turned the lantern in his hands; maybe there was a signature somewhere—?

No signature, but instead there was something written on the side; the penmanship was neat and careful, almost as if the writer was writing a business contract instead of a wish on a lantern.

‘My wish is that I will be able to gather the courage to honestly say my feelings, after all these years together.’

And on the other side it read:

‘My wish this year is that I’ll be able to stay by his side forever, no matter what happens.’

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin zhongli #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #I got writer’s blocked so many times writing this #and there was only one lantern #I’m probably gonna lie down and sleep after posting this #zhongli headcanons #zhongli imagines #my brain is dead but I’m happy I finished this hehe #tellerluna.tales #tellerluna.rkive: genshin

[tellerluna-stories]

rkive: living treasure.

PAIRING: zhongli x adeptus! reader

GENRE: slow burn, hurt/comfort, bittersweet fluff. allies to insufferably oblivious idiots to lovers, happy ending!

SUMMARY: it is a universal truth that every dragon has a treasure that it guards with its life. however, it seems that zhongli has yet to find his.

TW/CW: mentioned violence and war. spoilers for zhongli's backstories.

CHAPTERS:

prologue.

i. morax.

ii. rex lapis.

iii. zhongli.

epilogue.

IN THE SAME UNIVERSE (?):

to wish upon a lantern.

a long, long time.

OFFICIAL PLAYLIST.

#tellerluna.blogkeeper #tellerluna.tales #tellerluna.rkive: genshin

[tellerluna-stories]

the muse and the melody

PAIRING: ganyu x reader

GENRE: fluff! established relationship, nonverbal communication.

TW/CW: n/a.

A/N: this is a birthday gift I wrote for my trusty co-op player and #1 beta reader :DD happy day of exiting the womb, elder sibling~~

Composing music was truly a thorn in your side when you didn’t even know what to write in the first place.

You run a hand through your unruly hair and sigh discontentedly, looking at the mess of papers before you. Earlier in the day you had painstakingly worked to set up the most productive atmosphere and distraction-free environment that you could, with the foolproof plan to write a masterpiece in one afternoon. Now it was late in the evening, and the sheets of paper that you thought would overflow with music had remained pristinely blank.

Drawing a hand over your face, you cast a glance at the clock on your desk— she should be home anytime soon.

The faint sound of the front door opening and closing is enough to jolt you out of your misery, and you hear a familiar voice call out, “I’m home.”

Like magic, the sound of that soft, lovely voice dispels the gloom hanging over you— hastily, you collect your wits and scrabble at the disorderly heap of papers in an attempt to organize them.

Footsteps shuffle closer and closer to your study, and Ganyu opens the door just as you finished stacking them neatly.

“Hi.”

She blinks at you and gives you a soft smile in greeting. “Hello.”

“It’s really late.” You gently lead Ganyu to sit down on the bench before the piano— the chair of your desk would be too hard and uncomfortable for her. “If I’d known you would come home this late at night, I’d have gone to pick you up.”

She dismisses the thought with a shake of her head, her snowy blue locks flying every which way. “Ah, there’s no need for that… I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can.” Smoothing her hair, you sit beside her and give her hand a gentle squeeze. “But I just get worried, that’s all.”

Ganyu doesn’t reply, but you can hear the unspoken words that she cannot find the courage to say yet— I didn’t want to bother you by asking you to come at such an hour. I’m sorry for making you worry, but I’m also grateful that you care for me enough to worry about me.

You wished you could find the courage to verbalize your reply to her, but in that aspect the two of you were too similar; words were often insufficient to fully communicate your intentions and feelings. To make up for this, you sought to express your emotions in your music, while Ganyu chose to communicate them through her diligence in everything she did.

So in order to tell her the words you wanted to say, you turn to face the piano and ask, “Do you want me to play for you?”

Her eyes light up with childlike delight, and that’s more than enough of an answer for you.

“I should warn you though,” you remark as you lift the cover off of the black and white keys, “I’ve been in musical burnout the whole day, so I don’t really know what to play.”

“That’s alright.” Ganyu shifts to sit closer to you, burying her head in your shoulder. Her arms loosely wrap around your waist, as if by instinct— she must be really tired today, you think. “I like to listen to everything you play.”

Your heart thumps against your ribcage noisily- she really had a knack for taking you by surprise like this.

Quickly, you try to distract her by changing the topic before she notices your flustered expression. “Was it tiring at work?”

“Mm.”

“Did you remember to eat the lunch I packed for you?”

“Mm.”

“You didn’t take all the workload on yourself again, did you?

“…”

“…Ganyu.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t take all of it this time. Just… three-fourths of it.”

“Ganyu.”

She gives you a look with those big, innocent eyes of hers, and the tempo of your heartbeat changes from andante to allegro in a split second. Whether Ganyu is doing it deliberately or not, you know a losing battle when you see one.

“Fine, fine, I won’t nag you about it. I’ll just play for you as your in-house musician and composer.”

With a sigh, you turn to the keyboard and ruffle your hair— what to play, what to play. What sort of tune could your empty head pull out of a hat? What was it that you wanted to say to Ganyu? You wanted your song to be perfect, a masterpiece just solely for her- she deserved nothing less than that.

But how? What volume would you play at? Did you want to have a more upbeat tune, or would you have something soft and sweet? Would she prefer more complex progressions of notes, or was simplicity the way to go?

‘I like to listen to everything you play.’

That single sentence was so direct, so simply phrased— and yet it washed away the angry buzzing of your internal voice like footprints in the sand.

Whether you just play whatever comes to your mind at the moment or you’re drilling exercises for defter fingers, she always chose to sit next to you and listen in reverent silence. Even when you play a wrong note, even if you forget what musical phrase comes next, Ganyu still looks enraptured by your music— and it’s because you are the only one who can play it.

Knowing this gives you confidence and puts your mind at ease; now you’re sure of what you want to say.

Thank you for coming home safely. I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, but I still want to try and protect you. I wish you weren’t so insecure about yourself; I want to tell you how much I cherish you, whether it’s the person who you were in the past, who you are now, or who you will be in the future.

Bit by bit, the words in your heart come together and flow into the melody— any trace of creative block had long since disappeared, replaced with the fire of inspiration that all artists thrive upon. Your instrument became as your voice, and the black and white keys unlocked all the things you kept locked away, the words you wanted to say but just couldn’t. Though they were tentative and unsure, you hoped that your feelings would come across.

“It’s a little bit rough, considering that I made that up on the spot just now.” Your voice wavers slightly— you’d been so absorbed in your playing that you were out of breath. “But… what do you think?”

There was no reply; her deep breaths tickled against the side of your neck, indicating she was fast asleep.

With a shake of your head accompanied with a rueful smile, you shift so that you can wrap an arm around her shoulders— the Liyue Qixing had no small amount of tasks to be done, and yet Ganyu accomplished more in a day than fifty employees could in a week. It was no wonder she came home each evening completely exhausted.

But I wish you’d take better care of yourself, you think as you look at her sleeping face. Her eyelashes flutter lazily as she dozes— knowing her, she was probably dreaming of her schedules for the next day.

“Goodnight, Ganyu.”

Carefully, so you wouldn’t disturb her, you carry her to the couch and drape a blanket over her. She’d have to go to work in a few hours, so it was best to have her nearby so that you could wake her.

As for what you would do till then… inspiration still burned through your blood like adrenaline, and music wouldn’t write itself. You had so many things to say, to tell her through your music— after all, it is out of the abundance of the heart that the mouth speaks. If the heart overflows with love, then it is only natural that the mouth will speak of love.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact ganyu #ganyu imagines #ganyu x reader #gi ganyu #ganyu fluff #ganyu genshin impact #ganyu headcanons #ganyu x you #ganyu x y/n #established relationship #this was so soft and fluffy to write :>> #tellerluna.tales #much soft #meni sep #tellerluna.rkive: genshin

[tellerluna-stories]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟarchive system.

STORY TAGS:

#tellerluna.tales - general story tag

#tellerluna.tales: living treasure - story tag for living treasure

#tellerluna.rkive: genshin - tag for genshin fics

#tellerluna.rkive: bsd - tag for bsd fics

#tellerluna.dreams - plot ideas and character brainrot

OTHER TAGS:

#tellerluna.talks - general announcement tag

#tellerluna.mail - answering asks in general

#annie.nonnies - anon asks!!

#tellerluna.blogkeeper - housekeeping tag.

PERSONAL TAGS:

#annie howls at the moon - my thoughts in traditional cursed tumblr post format

#kaibigan ng buwan - stuff with my mutuals!

#tales from other shores - fic recs <3

#moonstruck.annie - the tag solely for my simping. yes i had to make this HELP

#tellerluna.blogkeeper