NOTE: Scroll to the very end if you're a re-reader😭😭If not, keep reading!

TW: Venti being Venti. Aether having an internal/external crisis (again). Subtle yandere undertones. Noncon touching. Sexy man alert. Booze? (if that's a tw lmao)

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❝ O GOD, THAT MEN SHOULD PUT AN ENEMY IN THEIR MOUTHS TO STEAL AWAY THEIR BRAINS! ❞

~ Othello, William Shakespeare

꒦꒷ ⋆༺ ⸸ ༻⋆꒷꒦

𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆

The Angel's Share was buzzing tonight—low laughter, clinking glasses, the scent of roasted meat and sweet dandelion wine hanging thick in the warm air. Near the bar, hunched precariously over his seventh bottle, was a bard.

A very small, very tipsy bard.

Venti was lounging sideways on the bench like a cat, legs dangling, cheeks pink, and fingers absently plucking at the strings of his lyre with absolutely no correlation to melody.

"—and then, I told the stormterror cultist, you can't put a hat on a dragon! Hah!" He burst into a fit of wheezy giggles, nearly falling over backwards. The people near him laughed along, not really at the joke, more at him, but he didn't seem to notice. Or care.

"Another bottle!" he called out suddenly, holding his empty one upside down and peering into it like it might refill if he stared hard enough. "This one's run dry and I feel personally betrayed."

"Hope you're planning to pay for that," someone muttered from nearby, more amused than accusing.

Venti sat up—sort of—and threw his arms wide with dramatic flair. "Of course! This bard shall pay in full... with the priceless gift of musical artistry! A performance so moving, your wallets shall weep in gratitude-"

"I'm afraid," came a voice from behind him-low, cool, and not amused—"that payment isn't going to suffice."

A shadow fell over him, but Venti didn't even turn around. He simply blinked, adjusted his hat, and waved a hand lazily behind his back. "Ah, well, just add it to Master Diluc's tab! He's a generous man, surely he won't mind sharing his fortunes with the arts!"

The entire tavern went silent.

One could hear the creak of the bench leg as Venti shifted, utterly unbothered.

Then-

A hand wrenched him by the back of his cape.

"Wh-hold on, wait, this is a delicate instrument—!" he squeaked, legs kicking as he was hoisted bodily off the chair.

"No sudden movements! My lyre is fragile! I'm fragile!"

Without ceremony, the tavern door was kicked open. A heartbeat later, the bard was yeeted through the air like a sack of dandelions.

He landed in a heap just outside with an undignified "Oof..!", cloak over his face, lyre still miraculously intact, though a string twanged in complaint.

Lying flat on his back, Venti blinked blearily up at the stars. "...That was rude."

He raised a hand slowly and made a weak strum across his lyre. "*hic* This bard is filing a formal complaint with the gods. Oh, wait... I am the gods..."

He sighed dramatically. "Justice will be served. Eventually. After a nap."

To the people of Mondstadt, it was typical Venti. But for someone like [Name], who barely knew anything about this bard except that he had a lyre and practically lived in Angel's share, she couldn't possibly pull out any presumptions over this... pathetic behaviour.

She stared at Venti's passed-out figure, drool threatening to drip down his face.

Oh...

Oh, dang. Aether was right...

Venti was indeed drunk. At Angel's Share. [Name] thought maybe they'd talk and be friends. Perhaps she'd even get to hear him play the lyre she was so interested in. But now she couldn't help but look at him like he was something at the back of her shoe. She took a cautious step closer, kneeling beside him.

Just to be sure, she poked his cheek. "Venti...? Venti?"

His eyes stayed shut. She frowned and poked again.

Then—

His hand shot up like a summoning tether, closing around her wrist in a firm, unmoving grip. Her breath caught.

The air stilled.

She twisted her wrist in his grasp, lips curving downwards. He didn't speak. Didn't move, nor did he open his eyes. Then, slowly, his teal eyes cracked open.

He squinted up at her, focus slow and sluggish... and then his whole face lit up. A radiant, goofy grin spread across his cheeks.

His grip shifted—and the next thing she knew, he'd thrown both arms around her neck and pulled her down onto him with a yelp.

"[Name]~!!" he sang, as if they were long-lost lovers reunited at last. "There you are!"

"Let... go—" she gritted out, awkwardly half-straddling his collapsed form.

"Mmh..." he mumbled, nuzzling against her cheek like a purring cat. "I've missed you, you know? Ever since that day... when Aether... said... wait, no, it's not... *hic*... where was I... bwjdsj—"

[Name]'s lips parted in silent horror.

WHAT. Is he doing??

...Why is he acting like this??

We met once.

Eventually, realising that he wasn't going to let go so easily, she stopped struggling with a long-drawn sigh. So much for befriending people. This guy was a total weirdo.

Venti pulled away just enough to gaze at her, his eyes half-lidded as he let out a dreamy, almost wistful exhale. "You... always look so pretty... with the wind in your hair... especially wh... no one looks..." he slurred incoherently, as if struggling to join a proper sentence, but his fingers threaded through her hair, mesmerised.

"Especially what..?"

Suddenly, his entire expression is replaced by a deep frown. He looked somewhat.... Pained?

He brought the strands of her hair to his lips, voice low, and pressed featherlight kisses to the tips. "...don't go... please... stay with me...zzzz—" Suddenly, he fell quiet. His arms went limp, and his head lolled back indignantly. Just like that. Asleep.

Dead weight.

This is... getting too much.

[Name] hastily pried his arms off, her heart racing for a reason she could not name. But it was definitely something similar to... a lack of fondness. And more.

He's strange. Up there with Kaeya.

No, definitely above Kaeya too. This was a bad idea.

I hope I don't run into this guy again-

The girl eyed the bard's snoring form with a scrunch of her nose. She turned her head to the left and then to the right. There was nobody around.

Should I just leave him here?

She wondered for a moment. However, a small part of her was busy trying to rationalise Venti's behaviour. Maybe he isn't actually that bad. Maybe being drunk just makes people act weird. And if she just let him be, then a good person who's not weird might trip over him and hurt themselves. She accepted this conclusion.

"Okay..." she sighed, bracing herself. "Fine. Just this once."

She grabbed him by the cape and began to drag him.

It wasn't graceful. The material stretched ominously, threatening to rip, and Venti's body flopped along the ground like a sack of very blessed, very unhelpful potatoes. She grunted, hooking her arms under his and lugging him. Yanked again.

After what felt like an eternity, she managed to drag him until his back thumped against one of the tavern's outside tables. His feathered cap threatened to slip from his face, and he looked like a very... awkward doll.

Oh, well. It works.

She wiped a non-existent sheen of sweat from her brow and nodded somewhat victoriously, turning her attention towards the tavern door. Her hand hovered about the knob, hesitating, before finally pushing it open.

The scent hit her first.

Rich, fermented fruit. Aged oak. Smoky spice. There was a musical warmth to it all—so many layers folded into the air, it was like walking into someone else's memory. She paused at the threshold, blinking slowly as her eyes adjusted to the golden lighting.

Laughter. Chatter. The clinking of glasses.

A few gazes turned towards her curiously, lasting too short for it to matter. It made her stiffen nonetheless, hands curling into themselves. She stepped in, boots soft and careful against the wooden floor.

[Name] knew what alcohol was, surprisingly enough. She knew what taverns were as well, even if she had no memory of ever being in one. They were some of the things she just naturally had knowledge of. It was almost strange. Foreign, yet familiar.

"Ah~! You there! New face?"

She jolted slightly. To her side was a man with an impish grin and an instrument, already leaning in far too comfortably.

"Fancy a tale, perhaps? Of the valiant Outlander who brought Stormterror to heel? Or maybe the elusive Darknight Hero?"

"I—uh, I—" she stammered, eyes flicking from him to her own feet.

"Oi, José!" Someone hollered from across the room.

The bard grinned, winking at her. "Another time, then, fair lady!" And then he was gone.

She stood there awkwardly, the noise swelling back around her. Her shoulders slumped.

Was this a mistake?

Still... she didn't walk all the way here just to leave. There had to be some kind of experience worth salvaging, right? So she trudged forward, eventually sliding into a seat at the bar. It was taller than she expected.

She looked around, trying to take everything in—the shelves, the bottles, the decor, the candlelight flickering off glass. It was peaceful in a strange, offbeat way.

Then—

"Planning on getting something, or just sitting there?"

The voice pulled her attention like a string. 

She turned her head, and her mind stalled.

There stood a man—no, a figure, because calling him just a man felt too plain—with long crimson hair, loosely tied at the nape of his neck that shimmered like strands of molten silk. A few unruly strands framed his angular face, softening the edges without dulling their sharpness. His pale skin stood in striking contrast to the deep red of his eyes—wine-dark, unreadable, and calm with a quiet intensity. He wore a crisp white shirt beneath a sleek, dark vest, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing strong, calloused hands that moved with quiet precision as he absently polished a glass. When he noticed her staring, he quirked a brow slightly. 

...Why does this place have so many beautiful people?

He raised that brow just a bit higher. "...Well?"

She startled, realising she hadn't said anything. "Um... Sorry, I'm just—" she went quiet.

The man blinked slowly. "What will it be?" 

He was still wiping the same glass, fixing her with a stare that made her feel like she had done something wrong.

"I don't know," she admitted. "What do you have?" 

"Are you underage?"

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Tilted her head.

"I... don't know?" 

That got him. He set the glass down. Was this lady trying to mess with him or something?

"...You don't know if you're underage?"

She frowned, fingers curling into her knees. It was a simple question. She should be knowing her age, at the very least. But she didn't, she truly had no idea. It made her feel... stupid, almost. 

"I'm... sorry. I really don't know how things work around here. I-I just got here recently... and my friends aren't with me right now..." 

Her voice got smaller towards the end. She fidgeted, gaze locked downwards. In guilt?...Shame? From what? He couldn't tell. Her fingers picked at the edge of the counter.

The man studied her.

He'd never seen her before. That was certain. Not from Mondstadt, not a familiar face from any passing merchant guilds either. She looked lost—but not in the way con artists pretended. There was something genuinely sincere in her voice, in the slight tremble to her fingers.

Still, a proper background check would follow later. Kaeya would laugh at him if he didn't.

[Name] met his gaze hesitantly, almost apologetic. 

Well... she's here now. 

And he, for all his ice-cold efficiency, wasn't in the habit of sending lost lambs back into the cold night. 

He reached beneath the counter, popped open a bottle with smooth ease, and poured the shimmering violet liquid into a glass. 

"Here."

[Name] blinked. "What's this?"

"Grape juice," he replied, deadpan.

She picked it up carefully and sniffed it. Then took a tiny sip.

Instantly, her face lit up. The smallest of smiles. 

"...It's really good," she murmured softly.

The man gave no response, but the corner of his lips quirked imperceptibly, before he turned away to tend to a few bottles. But she noticed, and felt her own smile growing wider. Did it mean that she had become just a tiny bit more familiar with this beautiful man? The thought, oddly enough, made her relax. 

There was a lull. She glanced at him. He was cleaning another glass. Still hadn't said anything else. She swayed a little, thoughtful.

"...You don't talk much."

No reply.

That's fine. 

"Do you... work here all the time?"  

He looked at her sideways. "I own the place." 

Her lips parted. A response... It's a good start. 

"So you do talk. That's... awesome. I mean—you owning this place. I don't know anyone who owns buildings... apart from you. Maybe Jean? She probably owns those headquarters... and Bar-to-bas owns Mondstadt... probably? Right?" she mumbled, more to herself.

...Bartobas??

She lifted her head hopefully, but frowned when the man averted his gaze without a response. 

Does he not like talking? 

I don't know anyone who doesn't like talking...

Eula, maybe? Aether...? Paimon usually talks enough for the two of them. 

I guess... I should too?  

[Name] was undettered. After finishing her drink, she set the glass down with a quiet clink and began talking. Soft, meandering words. 

What a... unique person.

The man grew increasingly awkward. It was getting hard to ignore her. She had no real point to tell, no big story—just pieces. Things Paimon told her. Things Aether mentioned. Foods she'd never tried. Places she'd only seen from far away. Her voice was calm, steady, a little curious. Never loud. It could almost be lost over the chatter of the tavern. He strained his ears to listen, offering subtle nods and hums of acknowledgement. 

He wasn't into small talk. But this girl was making an effort to engage him in a conversation... to turn her away would be rude. 

"—and then, I said 'She blew me away', but everyone looked at me weird. And Paimon went—she said—I forgot what she said..." 

She claims to be acquainted with the Traveller and Paimon. Couldn't be a threat...

When he realized she'd went silent, he cleared his throat, turning to look over his shoulder. "...Is that so?" 

At his response, she visibly perked up. He noticed.

"...Yeah. I was trying to remember what came next." 

"I see." 

Silence. 

But it wasn't awkward, not this time. 

[Name] tilted her head up at him, resting her chin on her arm. "You never told me your name." 

The man looked at her for a moment longer before it slipped past his lips. "...Diluc Ragnvindr. Just Diluc is fine." 

"Diluc... Diluc..." she repeated, then smiled. "It's a great name. What does it mean?" 

He paused. The meaning? 

He remembered something. He'd asked the same thing to his father, a long time ago. He'd also answered that same question when Kaeya had first asked him when they were young boys. 

"...Dawn." 

[Name] blinked. She observed him, eyes tracing his visage. He was quiet. Seemed a bit distant, even brooding at first glance. But he didn't turn her away when she had been lost and unsure. She felt as though there was a quiet strength to him. And in that moment, it felt as though he was remembering something. He seemed almost... Like...

"Dawn... It's a fitting name. That's what I think." 

Diluc's eyes widened a little, before he let out a short breath, more out of amusement than anything.

Fitting name, huh? 

Wonder what makes her think so... 

"And you?" 

Her brows furrowed. "Me? What about me?"

He set another bottle into place, wiping his hand on a cloth. "What's your name?" 

"Ah... you can call me [Name]." 

"...And the meaning?" 

[Name] faltered. Not because she hadn't expected it coming, but because... she had no idea. Another thing she didn't know about herself. Her cheeks heated up.

"Well... I—I don't know. Sorry..." 

Her shoulders drooped, and her lips curved downwards as she avoided his gaze. Diluc observed her downcast expression. Had he touched a sensitive topic? He wasn't particularly good at comforting people... 

"There's... no need to apologise. And if you're unsure, that's also not a problem. It just gives you a chance to assign your own meaning to it." he turned his head to the side when he noticed her staring intently, faking a cough. "...That's what I think."

A small silence followed. It was broken by a soft chuckle. 

"That's a good suggestion." 

Diluc nodded abruptly.

"You're... nice. Really... Thank you."

He blinked, caught off guard. "...I'm not nice," he grumbled. 

"No, I'm serious. You're—"

Suddenly, the door to the tavern slammed open with a sharp clang, making a few people flinch and glance up in surprise. 

A familiar blond stood in the doorway, breathing hard, with a tiny fairy floating beside him, equally flustered but mostly exasperated.

"Sl... slow down, Aether! *huff* Geez, you're gonna... gonna give Paimon a heart attack!"

But Aether wasn't listening. His golden eyes swept the room, and the moment they landed on [Name], he moved.

In two strides, he crossed the tavern floor and, without thinking, grasped her shoulders with an intensity that surprised even her, fingers instinctively cupping her locks where they spilt messily down her shoulders, clutching—like he was reassuring himself she was real. His touch was trembling. His expression was frantic, wide-eyed... until it melted into sheer, overwhelming relief.

"[Name]..." His voice cracked slightly. "Where were you?"

"A-Aether..." 

He didn't give her time to answer. His words rushed out, taut and breathless. "I... We went to Goth Hotel, but you weren't there... I looked everywhere... I even went to the Knights' headquarters... Jean said you'd been there, and that she'd seen you off, " he continued, hands still gripping her, "I searched the city, asked around, checked everywhere, but... I-I couldn't find you." His voice grew heavy.

Diluc, who stood rigid behind the counter, watched this entire display silently. He felt as though he was... intruding on a private moment. It seemed everyone at the tavern thought the same, because they awkwardly averted their gazes and went back to their chatter.

It seems that she hadn't been exaggerating. 

Both of them—Aether and Paimon—cared about her, in a way that went beyond mere acquaintances. It was obvious. And Aether... perhaps even more so. Diluc had never expected to see the Traveller so... dishevelled. Desperate?

Aether still hadn't let go. His eyes were glistening slightly. [Name] just bit her lip, guilty and unsure. Her fingers fiddled with her sleeve, glimpsing helplessly at Paimon. The fairy frowned, catching her look.

"Hey, Aether. Give her a little space!" Paimon pressed. "Sorry, [Name]. See, Aether? Paimon said she'd would be fine on her own! So... uh, maybe you should let go...?" Her voice grew tiny towards the end.

Aether didn't budge.

I didn't think he would react like that...

W-what should I do?

Before she could even stumble over a reply, Diluc spoke, his voice low but uncertain.

"I assure you," he said, gesturing towards the girl, "she was in no trouble. She was here with me. She's been... very pleasant company. No harm done."

[Name] felt a wave of gratitude wash over her.

The reassurance made something in Aether ease, but only slightly. He glanced sharply at Diluc, eyes narrowing. There was a hint of wariness behind them.

Diluc met the look without flinching.

They're close.

He seems defensive.

A couple? No...

His gaze slipped to [Name], then the half- glowering Traveller once more.

...Is it one-sided?

That's... that would be unfortunate.

[Name], having collected herself, gently tugged at Aether's sleeve and clasped her hands around his.

"I'm sorry, Aether," she said, soft and apologetic. Her fingers brushed gently over his skin.

"I just... I was bored. I didn't want to be a burden. You've been doing so much for me since we met... you and Paimon both... I thought I'd go to the Knights' Headquarters myself. But it got late, and you weren't back... so I explored a little more. I'm sorry for worrying you."

Her words were fragile, sincere. They filled the space between them with raw feeling.

Aether's breath caught.

He leaned into her touch without thinking, like a flower leaning toward the sun. His eyelids fluttered, his hands finally loosening their tight grip. He didn't speak at first—because if he did, he knew his voice would shake.

"I-it's... it's alright..." he mumbled at last, hoarse with emotion. "Just... don't disappear like that again. Please. If you ever go somewhere... tell someone. Let me know. I..."
He trailed off, but then gave her a crooked smile. "...I get scared."

Paimon floated awkwardly nearby, whipping her head between them, but said nothing. Is it the wrong time to say that Paimon's hungry?

Diluc observed them both, thoughtful.

Aether let go of her suddenly, as if realising what he'd been doing. He stepped away, burying his face in his hand, and shook his head.

Idiot... idiot...

When he looked up, his expression was calmer. "...I'm sorry too."

The tension in the room finally ebbed into something more relaxed.

[Name] still holding the blond's hand, pointed towards the counter and said with a quiet brightness,

"Oh, right... Aether, have you ever had grape juice before? Diluc offered me some—it's really nice. Del...Delicious." She added, looking at Paimon for approval.

At that, Diluc stirred, his usual composed demeanor slipping just a little.

"...Hm," he murmured. "Should I get you each a glass?"

"Oooh, grape juice! Yes, please. Paimon's parched!—"

Aether looked between them—between [Name]'s bright eyes, Paimon's hopeful ones, and Diluc's calm, unreadable face—and sighed, a breathless, almost defeated sound.

"No," he said. "It's fine. [Name], let's head back. It's getting late." He squeezed her hand gently. "We'll come back here whenever you want, okay? I promise. I won't... disappear again. No commissions. No detours."

Paimon let out a loud protest, deflating visibly.

The Traveller turned to Diluc then, his voice slipping back into something a little more formal.

"I delivered a package to Dawn Winery earlier. Adelinde was the one to receive it."

Diluc nodded once.

A short silence fell. Then—unexpectedly—Aether frowned.

"...How much?" he asked.

Diluc raised a brow. "What?"

"[Name] had something, right?" Aether clarified, sharper now. "How much for it?"

Diluc's gaze shifted towards [Name] once more, who was chatting quiet happily with Paimon near the counter, likely telling her about her day.

For a second—just a second—her eyes met his, and she smiled warmly. Tenderly. Her eyes crinkled. And then she'd raised her hand, hesitantly so, and offered him a small wave.

Something unfamiliar stirred in his chest.

Weird...

Perhaps I'm feeling a bit under the weather.

Maybe it was just fatigue. He had scarcely taken a break all day, after all.

"...None," Diluc said eventually, voice quieter than before.

"It's on the house."

𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆

word count: 3.8k

a/n:

Venti:

ANYWAYYYYSSSSS HI AHAHAHhelloHAHAHAH (yes I stole this image from online. You can't stop me from theme-meme-ing)

I realise that the pace of these chapters is going kinda slow, but I plan on changing that soon, after all the yandere love interests are introduced for this region. 

Which yanderes have we bagged so far, and who do you think might come next? Additionally, any specific yanderes you'd like to be added to the roster? I might or might not add them if yall say hehehe... And yes, both male and female yanderes are included!

WEWEWE

okay

OKAY BYE TAKE CARE AND HUG YOUR PARENTS AND I LOVE YOU AND HAVE A GREAT DAY

Bye.

UPDATE (AUTHOR'S SCREAMING CORNER): 

BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

SOMEONE ACTUALLY MADE FANART FOR REVENANT AND I AM CURRENTLY DECEASED, SOBBING, LYING FACE DOWN ON THE FLOOR.

HUGASS shoutout and infinite thanks to the insanely talented @Blooy_p3tal for this amazing piece based on this chapter!!! 😭😭 GODD I'M SO HAPPY LITERALLY CRYING RN

THIS IS FOR MY FIC?? THIS [NAME]??? BEAUTIFUL. GORGEOUS. MARVELOUS. ETHEREAL. CUTE. AWESOME. FANTASTIC. FASCINATING. She looks adorable😭 I love the colour palette, the patterns, the star motifs, ALL are so fitting<333 100/10 would eat her cheeks. 

Y'ALL. THIS SCENE. THIS IS EXACTLY HOW I IMAGINED IT TO BE😭 LIKE HELLO?? IF DRUNK CLINGY VENTI WERE A RELIGION, THIS MASTERPIECE WOULD BE ON THE COVER OF HIS BIBLE. AND [NAME]. SHE'S SO CONFUSED😭😭😭 MY SHAYLA.

Thank you so, so much for making this fanart. I'm gonna make it my frickin wallpaper at this point. 💥

Please go support them!! And if you're reading this, dear artist, thank you. From the bottom of my heart. You made this lil writer's entire week/month/lifetime. 🥹💘 

Okay ILL SHUT UP NOW. BYE.

❝ FOR THE LIPS OF A STRANGE WOMAN DROP AS AN HONEYCOMB, AND HER MOUTH IS SMOOTHER THAN OIL: BUT HER END IS BITTER AS WORMWOOD ❞

~ Proverbs 5:3-4 (KJV)