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[dainsleif & diluc] angel's share

"Have you seen a blond stranger who wears an eyepatch around here by any chance?"
"That I have. He comes here every night — just to drink, though. Doesn't order anything else. He even sometimes mixes his own drinks after he orders them. I don't know anything else about him, but from his selections and mixes, I'd say that he's quite the connoisseur."

Dainsleif is at the Angel's Share again.


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Character(s): Dainsleif, Diluc

Relationship(s): Dainsleif & Diluc

Tags & warnings: drinking, light angst, nostalgia, references to lore (the more u know the more flavor this has ig)

Word count: 471


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this is a new series i'm starting called "Travel Log: Dainsleif." the reason behind it is purely bc i want to care Dain 😔🤲 but since i can't do that personally, i'm making the other in-game chars do it instead.

this first oneshot is set some time before the "Bough Keeper: Dainsleif" quest. enjoy~




⛅️ ⚔️ 💫




The music is beginning to dwindle. Patrons have mostly seen themselves out, while drunkards have mostly been dragged home by their wives. Many of the candles on the chandelier overhead are no longer burning; only lamplight illuminates the inside of the tavern now. Another drop of condensation slides down Dainsleif's glass, before disappearing into the ever-growing puddle beneath.

It is getting late. He should leave — that is, Dainsleif thinks, if—

"You don't look like you have anywhere to go back to." The remark catches his attention, before a drink sent his way makes him look up. Dainsleif frowns slightly. "Excuse me, I didn't—"

"It's on the house," the bartender replies, already resuming his cleaning. He has long, fiery red hair that makes even his monochrome outfit stand out. When he glances up and sees that Dainsleif's gaze has not moved, a smile pulls at the corners of his lips. "I've seen you re-mix your drinks a lot. I took some liberties with this one; I hope you don't mind."

"Oh." Dainsleif didn't expect to be noticed. Observed? He gingerly pulls the glass toward himself. It is cool to the touch, the beverage inside a deep, opalescent blue. It looks different from what he usually makes for himself, but nevertheless... appetizing. "Thank you."

The bartender nods. Dainsleif waits until he has turned away to give it a taste. The first sip is strong, pleasant, much like the moonlight streaming in through the tavern's windows... and then the bittersweetness hits, and it plunges Dainsleif into a nostalgia just as familiar as it is difficult to pinpoint. It shocks him so much, the question comes out before he can think, "How did you learn to make this?"

"From observation." The bartender looks up, before seemingly noticing some kind of expression on his face. "Is it not how you usually would make it?"

"No, this...." Dainsleif looks down at the drink in his hand. The ice cubes are melting, innocently enough. "Not quite."

"Well, like I said I took some liberties with it. One of our... patrons recommended the recipe, actually. I thought it was rather similar to what I've seen you make, though I apologize if this version is not to your liking."

It gets hard to keep track of everything after the first few hundred years, but Diluc Ragnvindr has an adopted brother, doesn't he? Dainsleif shakes his head. "No. Actually... I quite like it."

"Oh — that's good." Diluc sounds pleasantly surprised. There's no apparent ill intent in him when Dainsleif looks up. "Then, by all means, take your time. If you need anything, I'll be over there."

Dainsleif nods, and the bartender leaves him be. He looks back down at the drink. Its swirling blue is beckoning him again.

Time is all he has. Dainsleif closes his eyes before the next sip.

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