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The Art of Courtship and Miscommunication When Your Boyfriend(sort-of) Is A Wolf(sort-of)

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They’re without Fischl and Oz today.

Bennett had sought them out in the woods, asking them to come to his house for a surprise, Fischl and Oz were nowhere to be seen. They were on an expedition, Bennett had explained as they made their way to the gates of Mondstadt together.

Razor is nervous, they’re in Mondstadt and they’ve never been fond of being in the city. There are far too many people here who don’t like him, he smells different, he talks differently and there’s not many who would put up with him besides Bennett and Fischl.

Bennett nudges them and Razor nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Hey, the guild’s not too far away okay? We just need to go a bit further in!” Bennett reassures him. He nods nervously, fingers brushing against Bennett’s for comfort, to ground himself. Bennett stops and Razor thinks shit maybe he’s gone too far, maybe Bennett wasn’t ready to take their courtship to that level-

Bennett intertwines their paws.

He. He- we’re-

“This will make you feel less nervous right?” Bennett asks, holding up their hands to show them, gripping their paw a little tighter. Razor doesn’t say anything, but the small nod of his head is enough for Bennett.

“Okay let’s go! Benny’s adventure team!” He declares.

Being pulled by his potential mate through the streets of Mondstatdt, even if Mondstatdt is filled with many smells, many people, too many things he’s not comfortable with, suddenly doesn’t seem too bad.

When they arrive at the guild, Bennett tells Razor to leave their claymore with his sword in the bin. “We have a strict no weapons in the kitchen policy,” Bennett explains. His wolf’s gravestone looks a little funny next to Bennett’s skyward blade, The bin, built for a smaller lighter sword, is hardly tall enough for the large claymore.

“Will it… uh… fall over?” Razor asks.

“Well given my luck, something disastrous will definitely happen! But I’ve learnt not to care too much, let’s go! To the kitchen!” Bennett declares.

Razor walks to the fridge, to see what there is and what they can cook. “No no!” Bennett gasps, slamming the fridge door shut, “go sit there Razor.” He points at the table in the centre of the kitchen.

Bennett follows him to the table as if he’s scared Razor will run away, which is silly. Razor would never run away from Bennett or do anything to distress him, he likes him too much for that.

There’s a grey cloth on the table, which Bennett picks up after Razor sits, back facing the stoves. “I’m going to tie this around your eyes,” he says.

With the cloth around their eyes, Razor is well… a little confused. “Bennett… what are you doing?”

He can’t see Bennett but he can almost feel the smile that he knows Bennett has, “surprise Razor! I’m going to cook for you today!”

Oh. Oh no.

The last time Bennett had tried cooking, he had set their campsite on fire.

And electro and pyro visions were NOT helpful for putting out fires.

A lot of banging of pots, the hissing of oil splattering everywhere and a lot of yelping later, Razor hears the thud of two plates in front of him.

“You can remove the blindfold now.”

His heart warms. On both plates are Bennett’s signature eggs, slightly charred at the edges, he’s “never been able to get them quite right” he had once told Razor sheepishly when they had accidentally gotten stuck in Dadaupa Gorge for two days and were only able to find bird eggs to eat. The other component is an attempt to replicate Razor’s puppy paw hashbrowns.

There’s only three toes instead of four, and they look a little burnt, but they were made for him. Bennett made these for him . Bennett wanted to surprise him .

As Bennett watches him with trepidation, Razor squeezes their eyes shut, says a prayer to Barbatos and pops a bite of the hashbrown in his mouth.

It… tastes good.

He takes another bite and Bennett smiles, grabbing his own plate and digging in.

Out in the living room, a strong gust of wind blows through the window, right against Bennett’s sword bin. But weighted down by Razor’s claymore, the basket does not topple over and cause all the surrounding bins to fall with it as it usually does. Instead, Bennett’s sword simply shifts with a gentle clank, lands against Razor’s claymore.


[Somewhere in Dadaupa Gorge]

This was not a job befitting the Prinzessin der Verurteilung. Fischl huffed, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Perhaps we should take a break my lady?” Oz offered, a bit away from her, working on mining a crystal ore.

Fischl shook her head, “no, for thou must collect-” she glanced at her hand, where she had scribbled down the details of the expedition, “-eight crystal chunks and four white iron ores within the day before sundown!” She declared.

She huffed again, glaring at the accursed rocks before her and her familiar. It was awfully hard to collect ore with a bow but well, a Prinzessin must do what a Prinzessin does.

“This shall most certainly be worth our while my Oz! This shall give my loyal subjects Bennett and Razor time alone together to realise their feelings for each other!” Fischl finished, before she loaded another arrow, determined to chip away at the ores again.

So with renewed vigour, Fischl and Oz continued their work.