Octavinelle Masterlist

Octavinelle Masterlist

~Azul Ashengrotto

○ The Dorm Leaders With Crushes (Pt. 1)

~Jade Leech

○ N/a

~Floyd Leech

○ N/a

Helloo, I'm Lina (she/her), and this blog is a mixture of a wee bit of writing and mainly freaking out over fictional men. Not as active as I'd like to be

○Rules and Fandoms I will write for can be found here

~Have a lovely time, and enjoy yourself~

Masterlists:

Twisted Wonderland

Tag Key:

reblogg :>‐ reblog

lina makes lines- art done by me

I'm so happy, I actually got Silver on my third pull 😭

He's so gorgeous I literally cANNOT-

when you’re tired.

how they comfort you when you’re too tired to take care of yourself.

feat. kaedehara kazuha ; xiao ; scaramouche. wanderer ; albedo ; venti ; tighnari ; gn! reader.

cw: comfort. them being caring boyfriends. self indulgent. mentions of crying. mild blood and injury in xiao’s + albedo’s. use of the pet-name ‘princess’ in albedo’s. soft scara.

kaedehara kazuha

with droopy eyes, you stare at the piece of paper in front of you. the words written on it no longer make sense to you, feeling more like just swirling ink rather than symbols with meaning.

you rub your eyes for the nth time this evening.

when was the last time you ate or drank something?

you can’t remember.

with a sigh, you try to re-focus again.

all those annotations in your handwriting… did you write them? you must have done so, you guess, but the opaque clouds of your mind don’t let you access that piece of memory.

just as another yawn was leaving your lips, an airy voice pulls you out of your daze.

“someone’s tired.” kazuha chuckles.

“hey, kazuha.” you respond, rather unenthusiastically.

kazuha’s brow furrows at that. you’re usually brimming with excitement and running to him as soon as he gets home.

are you not feeling alright?

the next groan you let out and the way you keep furiously rubbing at your eyes let the samurai know that, you are, in fact, more than tired.

“dove, is everything alright?” kazuha asks. his arms wrap around your middle from behind, chin resting atop your shoulder. his warm eyes are akin to an autumn gale, wisps of worry and concern laced with the dark crimson of maple leaves.

and then, you start shaking.

“no, kazuha.” you sniffle. “nothing is alright.” your lower lip quivers, the tidal wave before the storm of your tears and sobs. “i can’t do this anymore… i’m tired, and work piles up, and i’m useless because i won’t be able to finish on time, and, and…”

a finger to your lips silences you.

“shhh, don’t say those things about yourself, my petal.” your lover’s bandaged hand interlaces with yours, his thumb tracing unspoken verses over the back of it.

it’s warm, you think.

i’ve got you, he means.

tenderly, akin to the flutter of bird wings, kazuha wipes away the tears streaming down your face.

after every gentle touch, his angel kisses follow, flowers blooming in the shape of a welcome warmth where cold rivers marked a path before.

your sobs fall silent, your tormenting rain halting before the bright sun that kaedehara kazuha is.

“close your eyes, my hummingbird.” he whispers, the sound of a comforting autumn breeze reaching your ears. “rest for a while, my love.” he finishes, butterfly kisses landing like cherry blossom petals over your visage.

kazuha’s arms hold you securely against his chest. his voice reciting the first poem he dedicated to you lulls you to sleep.

he looks at you, nuzzled against his torso, and a melancholic smile paints his face in hues of bittersweet.

kazuha wishes you could always smile. but when you cannot, he’ll make sure to shelter you from your inner tempests.

xiao

with a click, the door to yours and xiao’s room at wangshu inn opens.

a sensation of relief washes over the yaksha, restlessly pacing the space when he sees your face in the doorway.

you weren’t here when he arrived and he didn’t hear you call his name either. he is glad you are here now.

his eyes of amber widen when he meets yours, in happiness at first. but alas, as they say, nothing gold can stay. for, as soon as xiao sees the scratches on your hands and cheek, his candlelight gaze becomes almost glassy, a frown marring his pretty face.

“xiao, i’m hom-”

“who did this?” he questions, perhaps harsher than he intended.

you don’t know when he moved, but your adeptus now stands by your side, his gloved hand holding onto your scratched up wrist.

“oh this?” you ask, owlishly blinking at the shallow injuries tainting your skin. “huh, i hadn’t even realized.” you yawn. “must have gotten these during my commissions.”

xiao inhales, breath hitching. you seem more tired lately. he doesn’t like how, even so, you keep giving yourself for the sake of others: completing any mission that needs to be done, helping citizens fulfill their requests, taking any commissions available at the adventurers’ guild… and so on and so forth.

your jessamine-soft touch to his cheek pulls xiao out of his trance.

“xiao… i’m fine.” you smile, tiredly, the dark circles under your eyes becoming more prominent. you yawn again. “i just need to sleep for a bit now.” you mumble, cheek leaning against the vigilant yaksha’s chest.

xiao’s cheeks heat up at the contact, arms circling you, not knowing where to place them exactly. you’re injured, what if his karma makes it worse? you need to heal up too… he can’t let you go to bed without cleaning your wounds first.

“y-y-you… you need to… those wounds… you need to treat them first.” he stammers.

you chuckle, half amused at his cuteness, half to try to ease him.

“i will…” you reach to peck his cheek. “why don’t you help me, love?” you ask, gaze locking with his crimson lined one.

“ah-… yeah.” he manages.

with trembling hands, the yaksha delicately bandages up your cuts. it’s endearing, you think, how shy and gentle he is, despite claiming to only know how to deal in death and slaughter.

as his fingers ghost over the newly tied bandages, you get lost in him; in the intense molten gold of his sharp irises, in the scarlet that surrounds them; in the dark jade of his silky hair and how it frames his cheekbones and jaw so perfectly; in his porcelain skin and the pretty pink that dots his cheeks… in xiao, in him and all that he is.

setting the remaining gauze atop the bedside table, your yaksha sits in front of you, eyes averted, cheeks abloom in shades of intense spring.

chuckling, you scoot closer to him. you settle in between his legs, the side of your face and your hands over the heart he declared forever yours.

“xiao?”

“y-yes?” his arms awkwardly wrap around your waist, accommodating you comfortably against his torso.

“thank you.” your lids flutter closed.

moments with xiao really do erase every trace of exhaustion off of you.

scaramouche. wanderer

the plate slipping from between your fingers is the last straw. after the week you’ve had, seeing the pieces of china shattering before your eyes is the last thing you needed. it is like seeing your last remaining strength crumble to pieces, one by one.

your vision becomes blurry, big hot tears silently falling down your tired face. your grip on the kitchen counter is tight, knuckles white.

“hey, what’s all this ruckus?” a bothered voice questions.

you chide yourself internally. for being like this, especially in front of him. didn’t he despise human’s fragility?

your lips move but before you can reply, scaramouche beats you to it.

“you’re trembling…” the wanderer moves closer to where you are. why won’t you look at him? are you going to leave and betray him too? “hey, are you okay?”

still, you don’t move. hair hanging in front of your face, you are paralyzed. it seems all the stress and exhaustion from the past weeks has finally taken a toll on you.

the wanderer’s deep hyacinth eyes catch sight of the mess all around you: pieces of broken porcelain cluttering the sink and floor; a grotesque and mocking mirror of your current state.

“kuni…” you sob, not capable of keeping the tremor out of your voice. “i’m sorry… i’m so sorry… it’s all my fault…”

“what are you even apologizing for, dummy?” he cuts your rambling off.

with care, he takes ahold of your wrist, pulling you against his chest.

“i broke it…” you lean limp against your boyfriend. “the plate… it’s… it’s my fault. i’m sorry, i’m sorry i’m so tired.”

scaramouche sighs, exasperation lacing his huff.

“silly, what worries me is your state. have you even realized how utterly exhausted you look?” the lips of the almost god peck your brow, strands of starry midnight, a gentle tickle against your skin. “you need to rest. now.”

teary, you glance at the still uncooked ingredients lining the table.

“but i have to-”

“no you absolutely don’t.” your wanderer states, not leaving room for further discussion. his pristine hands cup your wet cheeks, stormy iris eyes lined in the color of roses fixed on yours. “dinner? i’ll take care of it. and it will be delicious.”

and with that, scaramouche guides you to your shared bedroom. tucking you in bed, he squeezes your hand before he leaves.

he hopes you have sweet dreams until dinner time.

albedo

the unforgiving cold of dragonspine definitely didn’t pair well with your drowsy state.

the days leading up to this weekend had been hard on you, worries and important decisions swirling around your mind in a spiral of confusion. fatigue and uncertainty seemed to rule your every thought.

and it is that, and the gelid winds of the mountains that led to your mishap.

despite your exhaustion, today you wanted to help your boyfriend with his research. with no hesitation, you braved the icy mountain’s cold to reach to his camp in dragonspine.

and if it wasn’t for the way albedo’s summer sky eyes visibly sparkled when he caught sight of you, you would have regretted the trip.

and somehow, there is a point when you regret it. when those same eyes look at you wide with concern, the sky beginning to cloud over, before the snow.

“[y/n]… [y/n]. [y/n]!” albedo calls you repeatedly, but you are like in a trance. the liquid you’re pouring into one of his flasks is already overflowing, yet you make no move to stop.

it is only when albedo’s hand snatches yours that you come to.

absentmindedly, you stare at your hand still holding the container with the substance you were pouring: it’s leaked onto the table, twisting swirls of smoke in ominous hues coming off the stain.

and then, when you process what albedo just prevented, you break down.

“did i… did i do that?” you ask, your voice so small albedo is afraid you might shatter, like a crystal figurine that clatters to the floor with just a mild breeze.

his free gloved hand takes the vase you were still holding and settles it on the desk. then, he holds both of your hands in his.

your skin is covered in goosebumps. you are shivering. and did your eyes always look so devoid of light and so tired?

“my princess,” he begins, cradling the back of your head against his chest. “have you not been sleeping lately?” he points out, fingers running through your hair.

tears form in the corners of your eyes. as much as you look pretty like this, your lashes akin to newly bloomed flowers in the morning dew, the alchemist hates to see you sad.

you sigh, palms resting against the chalk prince’s chest.

“to tell you the truth, no, i haven’t.” you close your eyes, icy tears rolling down your pretty face. “i couldn’t… these last few days…” you bring a hand to your temple. “it’s… it’s been complicated.”

albedo shrugs off his coat, draping it over your shoulders.

your eyes widen, warmth returning to your face. what if he gets cold because of you now?

but before you can speak, your lover silences you with his words.

“first, let’s get you all warm.” he tells you, your palm resting atop his. “then,” he leans in, leaving a sweet frosted kiss on the back of your hand. “you can tell me all about it of you wish.” he pulls you closer to his side, his fingers lacing with yours. “does a cup of hot chocolate sound good, my dearest?” albedo tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

and how can you not smile? when your prince’s lips curve upwards, his golden hair and celeste eyes the picture perfect image of comfort against a background of ice and biting gales?

“that would be lovely, ‘bedo.” you murmur, basking in the warmth his embrace offers.

venti

the windborne bard’s aquamarine eyes lack their usual mischief today. not because he is unwell, but because the song of your heart is erratic. dissonant. a bell sounding, asking for help amidst the cold ocean in which you are drowning.

he’s noticed the way you carry yourself these days. a shadow of who you are, a truth you have built up, with stained glass depicting only the emotions you think others should see.

venti is aware of your exhaustion, of the emptiness that’s eating at you, a fairytale with a ripped out page, its happy ending torn to pieces.

he is a god, after all. the wind he rules over carries feelings and memories. notes and melodies telling the story of his people. and of course, yours too.

that is why, he decided today you will be taking the day off.

—

the sun rises, and with it, your meager rest comes to an end. commissions at the adventurer’s guild and citizens’ requests won’t complete themselves alone, as much as you’d like that.

the heaviness in your step subsides a little after talking to hertha. one of the requests involves a trip to windrise. it says to bring two apples and a bottle of dandelion wine. the requester, anonymous.

a pleased hum escapes you as you make your way to angel’s share to make the purchase.

windrise. that place brings happy memories. it’s yours and venti’s favorite place to go on dates.

vennessa’s tree. under which you and venti had your first kiss.

the thought alone is enough to put a smile on your lips and for your cheeks to rival the heat of the red that tints the apples’ peels.

with a newfound skip on your step, you start the trip to windrise.

but alas, your vitality is short lived. for when the shadow of vennessa’s tree casts a sun-splattered canopy over you, you deflate upon seeing no one around.

then, when you were ready to turn around and leave, a dandelion scented breeze blows by.

“missed me, my windblume?” a familiar voice asks.

there, perched atop one of the huge tree’s branches, is none other than your lover.

“venti!” you exclaim, a smile gracing your features.

“ehe” with agility, he soars down his perch, hovering upside down just inches from you.

“if i had known it was you, i would have dressed up more…” you trail off, averting your gaze to the side.

“ehh? but you always look gorgeous to me, my warrior.” venti tells you, turquoise-marine eyes earnest.

you fluster, wide eyes looking up at his cute face.

then, he’s kissing you. and you’re cupping his face. and kissing him back. and the basket with the apples and wine clatters to the ground. and neither of you care.

because what could be more important than each other?

when you pull away for air, venti lands in front of you. picking up the basket, he says:

“hm, but my request doesn’t end here, windblume.” he takes your hand in his free one, tugging you along towards the big tree.

“now you must join me and relax for the rest of the day, ‘mkay?” the anemo archon requests, kissing your heated cheek.

and how could you ever say no to your cute boyfriend?

you can’t. that is your weakness.

and your saving grace today.

tighnari

the clock is about to strike midnight. silence only broken by the stars’ static and the chirping of nocturnal insects has settled over avidya forest.

one by one, the lights on each cabin have been going out, leaving way to the moonlight to reign over the vast expanse of green.

there is one house, however, that remains alight. the person inside seems to be busy, relentlessly tackling multiple tasks and papers.

this image would go unnoticed my most passersby. a busy student, some would think. a night owl, others would judge.

there is someone, nevertheless, who knows the truth happening right now behind those windows. nothing escapes the head forest ranger’s sharp hearing, after all.

with serious eyes, tighnari heads towards the source of the light. when he reaches your house, he doesn’t even have to knock: it’s open.

not that knocking would have done any good, anyway: you’re fast asleep.

hastily scattered around the table lie several notebooks and papers. some of them are finished, others have just a few scribbles on them.

and on top of all of this mess is you. sleeping soundly, pen still in your hand.

it’s good that at least you are getting some rest, tighnari thinks. but he can’t leave you like this. in this posture, you’re definitely going to be sore the next morning.

as carefully as he can, your boyfriend hoists you up. you stir a little in his arms, but not enough to wake up.

tenderly, he lays you on your bed, tucking the covers snug around you.

but still, he feels bad leaving you by yourself. it hasn’t escaped him how tired you look lately.

so he stays.

tighnari places a chair by your bed, and just as he was going to sit on it, something catches on his tail.

“‘nari…” you mumble, bleary eyes staring up at him, one of your hands buried in the soft dark green fur of his tail. “what are you doing here?… wait… oh no!” you sit up, lifting the covers off of you, standing up so quickly you feel dizzy. you stumble, and if it weren’t for tighnari’s arms looping around your middle, you would have hit the floor. “i fell asleep! tighnari, why didn’t you wake me up? i have to go back to work now!…”

“no. absolutely not.” his tone, commanding.

“but…” you look up into his teal-hazel eyes. he levels you with a warning gaze. there is nothing to bargain for here, he seems to say.

“no. none of it.” the forest ranger holds you by the shoulders. “you are going to sleep now. and i’m going to stay with you. no buts.”

there is no use arguing with him on this one, is there? your work will have to wait.

releasing the tension you had been holding in with a long sigh, you get in bed, while your boyfriend takes the chair.

“what are you doing?” you ask him. “if you’re going to stay the night i’m not letting you sleep in a chair.”

the pink of zaytun peaches dyes tighnari’s skin prettily.

“no buts. no arguing.” you chuckle, tugging him by the hand. “now, come here.” you tell him, sweetly.

and the fennec fox obliges. for how could he not? when your touch and warmth are so addicting?

besides, you look so cute and comfortable, cuddled against his side like this.

Twisted Wonderland Navigation

Heartslabyul

Savanaclaw

Octavinelle

Scarabia

Pomefiore

Ignihyde

Diasomnia

Pomefiore Masterlist

~Vil Schoenheit

○ The Dorm Leaders With Crushes (Pt. 2)

~Epel Felmier

○ N/a

~Rook Hunt

○ N/a