I made this tumblr account for the purpose of sharing the playlists I made for the fictional men in your life đ Most of it will focus on fandoms I'm in.
I'm currently very into Wind Breaker so a bunch of playlists for them have already been made.
his POV when he's with you
wbk imagines
There's also for other fandoms so feel free to check out my yt account âŹïž
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summary: you and lohen faces the consequences of the heat of the moment. you'd always assumed he'd make a terrifying father. instead, he somehow becomes a good one â though his definition of "safe childcare" remains⊠debatable.
tags: lohen is down bad, fluff, parenting
well.. this actually came from a conversation i had with my oomf on twitter. in her selfship, she and lohen have a kid together, and i'd never really pictured him as a dad before. my immediate thought was basically the exact premise i ended up writing into the fic. i even tweeted about it, so maybe you already saw it, since it just hit 1k likes, lmfao!
The quiet cries of your baby echoed through the house early that morning, making you stir restlessly beneath the blankets. Before you could fully wake, however, Lohen â who had already been awake for some time â scooped the little one into his arms.
"Shh, shh. I've got you," he murmured, gently rocking the baby. He glanced over at you, still hopelessly tangled in the blankets. A satisfied smile tugged at his lips when he saw you were still asleep. You needed the rest more than anyone else, so he didn't hesitate.
Using only one hand, Lohen settled the baby against his chest and slipped on the carrier, tightening each strap with the same meticulous care he reserved for maintaining his weapons.
The baby squirmed, and for a brief moment he worried he'd fastened the straps too tightly. But before his eyes, the little one settled comfortably against his chest, soothed by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Lohen let out a quiet sigh of relief.
"There," he whispered. "Let's let mama sleep a little longer, hm?"
Spear slung over one shoulder, he stepped outside. His stride was almost cheerful, a little bounce finding its way into every step. He looked... proud. And he was, of course! But it still felt a little strange, becoming a father so young. His parents, of course, had been absolutely thrilled. They'd convinced themselves that finally â finally â fatherhood would make Lohen settle down and live a safer life becauseâ
⊠A rustle.
Lohen's head turned toward the sound.
Three hilichurls were hunting a wild boar nearby. His gaze slowly drifted down to the sleeping baby tucked against his chest, then back to the monsters. Normally, he would've charged them without a second thought.
This time, he paused. There were only three.
The baby slept peacefully against his chest, utterly undisturbed. It wasn't the first time he'd used the carrier. By now, he'd learned over and over again that his firstborn was perfectly safe there. Turns out his mother's advice had actually been useful.
His polearm materialized in his hand as familiar adrenaline coursed through his veins.Â
Well⊠the thing was, he'd accidentally gotten the baby used to battlefield noise. It had started when he began bringing the stroller â or the carrier â to work. He flatly refused to let you spend every single day stuck at home with the baby.
Naturally, Lohen had turned that into yet another brilliant training exercise for his cadets.
If a knight was loud enough to wake the baby...
⊠they earned a special training session with the vice-captain.
Before long, the recruits had learned to fight almost silently. The baby, meanwhile, had learned to sleep through practically anything.
Perhaps because, amid the shouting, clashing steel, and distant gunfire, Lohen was always there, humming under his breath, speaking softly, or rambling to his little one in that embarrassingly gentle voice he reserved for them alone.
Naturally, none of the knights were brave enough to laugh at his ridiculously high-pitched lullabies.
Jean looked ready to have a heart attack every time she spotted a baby on the battlefield. Lisa simply giggled, praising Lohen's impressive multitasking skills â and complimenting him on âbeing such a good fatherâ.
Varka, meanwhile, still hadn't fully processed the fact that Lohen had somehow become a parent. More than once he'd complained that it wasn't fair.
"You think this is easy for me?! Every other day you show up outside my office with your adorable baby! It was bad enough that the mother of your child was the woman I'd been pining after for years and now this?! Ugh! Just let me borrow the little one for a while! I've got paperwork to finish anyway. They can nap peacefully in my office!"Â
The last hilichurl collapsed before Lohen had even broken a sweat. Looking down, he grinned when he saw the baby hadn't stirred even once.
"Take after your mama," he said proudly.
He removed his gloves, thoroughly cleaned his hands with the wet wipes he kept in his bag, then gently stroked the baby's tiny head. Somewhere nearby there had to be a camp those hilichurls had wandered from.
If he hurried, he'd make it back before you woke up.
And if luck was really on his side...
⊠you'd still be asleep long enough for him to feed the baby, too.
Humming quietly to himself, he slipped his gloves back on and continued down the path.
You woke to an empty bed.
For one disoriented second, your hand shot toward the little nest of blankets where the baby should've been. Nothing. Your heart lurched before your mind caught up.
Lohen.
You shook your head, unable to suppress an amused smile. Throwing on one of his jackets, you headed outside in search of the father of your child.
...and found him standing atop a ridge overlooking a nearby hilichurl camp, monster residue drying on his boots, your baby sleeping soundly against his chest as though it were the safest place in all of Teyvat.
Lohen noticed you immediately.
The corners of his lips curled into a pleased smile as he finished wiping his hands clean before walking over.
"They like our morning walks," he said softly, looking down at the baby with unmistakable affection. "Didn't want to wake you."
"Lohen..." You crossed your arms, desperately trying not to smile. "I'd really appreciate it if our child didn't accompany you on your massacres."
"I took our baby for a walk," he replied with a laugh, leaning in until your foreheads were nearly touching. "The massacre was completely unrelated."
He shifted the carrier slightly so you could get a better look. Rosy cheeks, a tiny trail of drool soaking into his shirt, fast asleep, entirely unbothered by whatever had happened.
Lohen looked down at the baby with the same awestruck expression he wore every single time, as though he still couldn't quite believe this tiny little person was real.
"See?" he murmured, gently taking your wrist before pressing an apologetic kiss to the back of your hand. "They love going on adventures with dad."
lord... saw someone mention babytrapping with lohen and can't stop thinking about mutually obsessed weirdos lohen x reader 'fighting' over whos trapping who here like they arent both way too into it đ everyone in mondstadt has CONCERNS about the idea of either of you reproducing let alone together
Hi Anon,
I'm not sure why, maybe I forgot English, but I feel like I didn't really write this correctly? I wanted to post this earlier, but I kept getting ideas, so I might have lost the narrative. Regardless, Reader/Lohen really want that baby, and they will get it by any means necessary except for actually sitting down and having an honest conversation about wanting kids.
Itâs not as though this is the first time youâve gone along with Lohenâs whims, all while working toward your own hidden agenda. Somewhere along the way, you stopped asking whether this was a good idea and started asking what would work. Like that time during a celebration with the Knights, when everyone started dropping like flies except for the Grandmaster. A new batch of wine and a surpringly low tolerance to alcohol from knights who drink rather frequently. Who would have thought? You had been sprawled on the ground, staring up at the night sky, by the time Lohen hauled you into his arms and carried you back to your shared tent. It was nice being lifted so effortlessly, tucked securely against his warmth, that you forgot to mention you'd swapped your drink for juice before the festivities had even begun. Varka had been there the next morning and looked far too concerned about the whole situation, but you told him it was fine. It had been easier than explaining why you hadn't done anything to stop it.
In hindsight, maybe you could have sat down with Lohen and had an honest conversation about your relationship. Unfortunately, you'd already committed to a much worse idea, and there was no backing out now.
"Gonna' cum-" Lohen groans into the curve of your shoulder, his face tucked against your neck. Bloody bite marks litter your skin, sitting far too high for your clothes to hide, and you know he did it on purpose just to be a brat. You're going to get so many pained looks tomorrow. The entire city is going to know exactly what the two of you have been up to. Again. Though you suppose you cannot exactly play the innocent card. Not when you spend far too much time standing in front of the mirror, absentmindedly tracing the indents and bruises scattered across your skin. Not when your nails are stained red from how often you pick at the scabs, never quite giving them enough time to heal properly.
"Y-You need to- ah! You... hah-You need to pull out," Your words cut off in a whine as Lohen jostles you higher in his arm. His fingers dig into your thighs as he adjusts his hold, folding you closer against him. Your stomach clenches, both because he's attempting to carve a space for his dick there and it's working, and the weightlessness now that your back isn't supported against the wall anymore. Everything but your shoulder and head is relying entirely on Lohen's strength, and your heart flutters at the display of strength. It's your second-favourite thing about him.
He's surely wasting no time making up for the weeks he spent away, returning all of his pent-up desire tenfold as he fucks into you mercilessly. His hips never stop moving as he holds your thighs apart, keeping you pinned between him and the wall. It feels deliriously good, enough to leave you dizzy with it, your body clenching around his cock, sucking him in deeper. In, out, in, out, in, in, in-
"Hey."
Your hands fly to his face, pulling him down until he's forced to meet your gaze. It's the clearest your eyes have been all night. You draw him closer, your lips brushing his as you whisper the words directly against them.
"If you cum in me, I'll get pregnant."
There is nothing but the sound of heavy breathing and the sting of nails digging into each other's skin as Lohen stares at you with half-lidded, clouded eyes. Then, like the stupid little pervert he is, his cock twitches inside of you. Warm thick cum floods where it shouldn't, and you're too stunned that Lohen seriously just came at that. Only when you feel yourself being lowered gently to the ground does he let out a quiet grunt, pulling out to watch your combined slick and cum ooze out of you, little wet sounds splattering onto the floor.
"You-" you're about to bitch and cry, ready to find the nearest object to break over his head because this isn't fair! If you seriously get pregnant from this, you're going to drug him and ride him until his hips snap in half! Your murderous thoughts come to an abrupt halt when you hear giggling. Lohen has a hand clamped over his mouth in a pathetic attempt to muffle it, but with how hard he's trying and failing to hold back a full laugh, it isn't working. His head tips low enough that his bangs fall across his face, and his other hand scoops the cum that leaked onto the floor. Lighting his hand, he slightly spreads his fingers before dipping them into his mouth to suck clean, and you frown at how gross he's being again. The cum is supposed to go into you; has he never attended a sex ed class before?
A soft pop sounds when he pulls his now-clean fingers from his mouth. He pushes his sweat-damp hair back, finally giving you a clear view of his face, and you shiver at his expression. That same deranged smile still plays at the corners of his lips, but his eyes look almost blown wide, so dark you could swear they're glowing red. He plants his hands on either side of your head and leans over you until his shadow swallows you whole, until all you can see is him.
It's hot. You're breathing each other's air, neither of you making any effort to pull away. Your legs remain locked around his waist, and he doesn't move back to give you space. You can feel his heartbeat pounding against your chest just as surely as he can feel yours. Occasionally, you wonder how you let it get this bad. How someone could have such a monopoly over your life to the point you'd find any reason to keep them with you.
"You still think I'm the one being trapped?"
Before you can answer, his hands fall back to your thighs, and with a single pull, you're flat on your back again, your knees bent so far they nearly brush your head. He cracks his neck, then proceeds to slam in so hard you can feel him in your throat. So hard that you see stars behind your eyes. Hard enough that every coherent thought scatters, dissolving into nothing but a barely intelligible string of Lohen, baby, Lohen, baby.
When you manage to look up at him, you find his gaze already fixed on your face. You can feel the intensity of it as he takes in your parted lips, the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, the fresh bite marks blooming darker against your neck. You see the tenseness of Lohen's mouth, still smiling but undeniably strained from pleasure, pleasure that you're giving him, drowning him in-
Lohen grunts under his breath, closing his eyes, enjoying the feeling of you swallowing every inch of him. He looks like a man on a mission, teeth grinding together, you can almost hear them crack from how tense his jaw is. His fingers bend at odd angles, lifting you and slamming you down that nearly gives you whiplash at each push and pull against sensitive nerves. At this point, you're more of a sleeve than an actual human being. You couldn't imagine anyone touching you like this, let alone fucking you. Thank the Archons, you hadn't done this on a table. Jean might actually kick both of you out if you showed up asking for another budget increase to replace broken furniture. Considering the look she'd given you after the bookshelf incident, you'd be lucky if she didn't start assigning the two of you retraining orders.
"S-Slow- slow- down-! You promised you- you wouldn't!!" You sob, fat tears slipping from your eyes. Despite your words, your nails dig into his skin, your ankles digging into his back to pull him closer. You'll fucking kill him if he doesn't cum in you again.
"Shut up-" Lohen rarely curses, so it's always a treat to hear him lose that princely appearance. Not that you have long to relish in your small victory when his hand slams beside your head, cracking the floor from the strength of his fist. With half your support gone, you feel yourself tilting to the side, the sudden movement making you tense up, clamping down on him. He lets out a low hiss, leaning forward to fully pin your body to the ground, as he buries himself deep on one last particularly bone-shattering thrust. You let your head drop harshly onto the floor as he cums, a burst of warmth that fills your stomach. You're shaking in his arms as his hips instinctively grind to ride out the waves that went on far longer than usual, throbbing in heavy pulses as he somehow dumps even more cum into you. It feels so good that you can't help but follow him, finally letting that wire inside you snap free.
You both donât move for a while, just taking the time to catch your breath and settle back into each otherâs presence. It has been getting increasingly lonelier each time Lohen gets sent halfway across the world. While you can understand his role as vice-captain, you don't appreciate seeing him fewer and fewer times. You move your hand to settle over your stomach, hope in your eyes, that hopefully now he'll have a better reason to stay.
âSorry, I know I promised, but I couldnât resist,â he says easily, voice soft as he presses a few lingering kisses to your cheek, yet making no move to pull out, âIâll get you something for it tomorrow morning, alright?â
With your body fully caged in by Lohen, there's no wiggle room for you to kick him away or knee him in the gut to let you go. It's almost as if the past few minutes never existed. That same deceptively gentle smile sits on his lips, eyes catching faintly in the low light as he moves his hand on top of yours, lacing your fingers together. He raises it, pressing a small kiss on the back of your hand, whispering, "Donât worry, nothing bad will happen."
Tomorrow morning, when you are still sleepy and woozy, Lohen will coax you into opening your mouth so he can slip in the same two white tablets, and you will groan and complain the entire time. They're oddly sweet for morning-after pills, and you've never been fond of sugar.
Now that the Nod-Krai expeditionary force has wrapped up its mission, your lover Lohen, decides to commemorate his homecoming with a surprise pussy inspection (and perhaps test out that vial of aphrodisiac heâs been dying to use) â nâsfw âč mdni
cw: aphrodisiacs (consensual)
When Lohen enters your bedroom through the open window, your duvet is the first to go. You stir from the rush of cold air, blearily sitting up, before an unforgiving grip locks around your ankle, and your mind recalls that your first instinct is to scream.
A hand clamps over your mouth, only pulling away once the panic dissipates as your eyes settle on your loverâs familiar red.
âLohenâŠ? Youâreââ He cuts you off with a kiss; pulling you into his gravity with the enthusiasm of a man starved. After all, who could blame him? Even you have lost count of the days heâs spent stationed away in Nod-Krai. Yet when he pulls away, he does so with fervor in his eyesâcunning, and full of guileâand the anxiety of exhilaration ignites in your chest.
âI'm here to inspect you, baby.â he lilts, guiding you onto your back. He runs a hand up your thigh, easily shifting your nightgown up, panties lazily tossed aside, before finally spreading your legs apart until your cunt unfolds in between. Two gloved fingers part your folds open to the sticky sound of your arousal, delicately woven into thin strands of webbing that refuse to snap in spite of how far his fingers stretch.
Interesting, he thinks, humming as he observes just how wet you are. Lohen angles his thumb to run slow circles around your already puffy clit, watching as you squirm beneath him: your hole pulsing at the returning arousal, attempting to clamp around nothing at all.
Tsk tsk. âWhat did I say about touching yourself while I was awayâŠâ he sighs. The last letter heâd sent you rests on your nightstand â open, and bruised with the indents of a too-tight grip. He shakes his head in false disappointment, all the while pressing harder into your clit. His free hand reaches into his coat pocket, drawing out a glass vial full of ominous liquid.
A flick of the wrist. A pop. The substance stirs within its confines, and the bottle uncaps soonafter â his leather-clad fingers now coated in its thickness. âLiquid ecstasy,â the merchant had called it.
You nearly jolt at the sensation as Lohen inserts a finger, pumping slowly in and out. The liquid is immediately coldâŠand then warmer as the aphrodisiac takes root. Too warm. It heightens your sensitivity â crawling through your nerves, leaving a disastrous wave of heat and need in its wake.
A sole fingerâŠthe slow pace⊠Itâs not enough. Your thighs instinctively close, desperate to soothe the overwhelming sensation, but he holds you open, halting your brief search for friction.
âAh ah,â he sings. And then he pulls out, inspecting the blend of fluids coating his glove. âIs this what you imagined when you touched yourself to my letter? Was the aphrodisiac as strong as you thought itâd be?â
You try to wrangle out an answer, but he never truly gives you a chance to respond.
âAnd how many times did you cum? Be honest,â he interrupts. âOnce?â He prods two fingers against your entrance. âMaybeâŠ.twice?â he asks, and two fingers push their way in.
Your breathing changes with the stretch, gasping as he fills you more. Deeper, fullerâŠyour only desire now is to unravel for him (to be unravelled by him) and yet, his languid movements are still too slow for how desperate your body has become â cunt unabashedly churning out slick for desires your lover refuses to fulfill.
âŠAt least not in the moment; not when he loves how you cling to him so tightly, as if the intent to burrow deeper is a battle in and of itself. And with the way the aphrodisiac has seeped beneath your skin, a lazy curl of his fingers is enough to set your body ablaze, cunt gushing as you teeter dangerously close to finishing.
And Lohen knows. He tuts again, keeping his fingers curled against the roof of your walls as he pulls back out. âNo, no, no you canât cum yet,â he mocks, fully mesmerized by the glistening webs of slick suspended in the gaps between his fingers. âLook how wet you areâŠletâs see how you take threeâŠâ
You keen at the stretch, wondering if he knows how much thicker he is when he fingers you with those gloves on. If he knows how rough the leather grain is when he drags them against your gummy insides⊠(Itâs not enough. Itâs not enough.) When he curls all three inside you, you curl along with him â back arching clean off the bed as he digs the tips of his fingers into that spot. Bullying your insides as he continues to fuck you slowly, holding down your hips as you writhe. Angling his hand to thumb at your neglected clit, until the coil in your belly snaps and you cum with broken wail.
By the time you come down from your high, thereâs a dull throb that lingers between your legs. You squirm atop the sheets, hoping some sort of friction might soothe the ache, but it leaves you all the more aware of just how empty you are, how empty youâve beenâŠthe heat only growing in intensity as your leaking cunt remains unattended.
Lohen draws back, biting down on the tips of his (now-soiled) glove, before removing it with a quick tug. âYou didnât think just once would be enough did you?â he asks. âCome on baby, your body knows what it wantsâŠâ
Slotting himself between your legs, he traps you beneath himâleaning over your smaller frame with the unfinished bottle, once again, in his hands. He presses the opening against your parted lips, tilting gently until the vial runs dry.
âThere we go,â he praises, âdonât worry, thereâs still plenty more to come.â
notes: in case you didnât catch it, it is implied Lohen and reader have already talked about everything in their letters so everything is consensual!!
Lohen corners you in between the pillars of the knights quarters, everyone as of right now is asleep. well, mostly.. the guards on night patrol is still awake you know?
The light from the candle flickers gently in the wind as if it could see the things your vice captain does to you behind closed doors. "my.. seeing you like this sends a rush throughout my body." his front is pressed flush against yours while he grinds his erection against your aching pussy, your knees buckling under his alluring gaze.
Lohen lasciviously kisses up the warm side of your neck, nipping and biting hard to create a bruising hickey into your skin, watching your face the whole time. he chuckles deep when you cling to his clothes, a desperate whine leaving your mouth.
"Shh, try to be a little quiet, bunny.. it's quite late you see.." he ghosts a finger over your fluttering clit, circling the middle finger delicately over in mind numbing circles. he shushes you with a giggle when you let out a particularly high pitched sob, your legs shaking as he quickens the pace, his long pretty fingers (now using his entire palm) to rub ceaselessly, snickering a little when you cum all over his hand, your fluids gushing between your thighs.
"Feel good? bet it did.." he watches fondly when you lean forward to blearily press your lips against his, your hand clutching his arm as you hump his hand. lohen scoffs at the audacity you had to use his hand for your own pleasure, but he can't deny how mesmerizing you look right now.
"Ah, ah.. naughty little thing you are." he scolds playfully, lightly slapping your glistening pussy as a mini punishment.
you whimper as the slaps turn into teasing curls of his fingers but beg him to stick it in you already, your hands clutch his collar as you rub your forehead into his neck, he closes his eyes to relish the feeling of your clinginess.
"Want my cock so bad?" he asks digging his knee into your heat, fuck it felt good.. but you nod excited, sort of like a dog with it's tongue out. your eyes childishly lighting up but lohen is quick to turn you down. asshole!
"I'll stuff ya full darling but you came so quickly.. I couldn't even taste you properly.." he tilts his head to the side, eyes closing in faux worry. But lohen always delivers. He'll give you what you want and more. Just let him tease you a little longer, yeah?
â€č sfw, oneshot, lohen's idea of domesticity is a little skewed at the end, may be ooc im still getting a handle on his character, kind of an analysis?, not beta read
(1.8k words)
cross-posted on ao3
For a man like Lohen, routine is a nightmare.
Perhaps the life of the expedition had changed him irreversiblyâ waking up in the wilderness every morning, never knowing for sure if he'd eat that night, sleeping with a hand around his dagger just in case a stray monster managed to wander past the night watch⊠perhaps it had been his childhood kidnapping that made him into thisâ a nocked arrow quivering against the bowstring. Always itching to be fired straight into the heart of the enemy, unable to stay in one place without a trained hand holding him back.
Or perhaps he had simply always been this way.
In any case, the original statement remains true. Lohen cannot stand a daily routine.
As his fellow knights grew accustomed to life in Mondstadt again, welcoming back their old habits, Lohen was forced to watch them grow far too comfortable. The same knights that he would go on morning patrols with through the wilderness now spent their mornings off casually watering plants and laughing with friends in the street. The same knights that would previously spend their nights polishing up their weapons in preparation for the next battle were now heading to the bar after their shifts, casually and jovially downing drink after drink without any concern over who would watch over them in their drunken stupor.
Lohen couldn't understand the desire for such simple things. These new routines of theirs only encouraged complacencyâ not to mention, they were also unbelievably restricting. Why spend time on things like sweeping leaves off your neighbor's porch, or catching a child's lost cat, when you could be spending that time getting stronger? Did his comrades not feel that itch under their skin when they sat too still? Could they not feel themselves splitting apart at the seams without something new? Were they really so content to remain exactly as they are? To remain so slow and weak and powerless and mortal?
Trying to understand it made Lohen's head spin. Those at the top of the food chain controlled everything beneathâ If Lohen himself were nothing more than a rabbit, he would fight every day to claw his way up to the top with the wolves. He couldn't think to comprehend how someone could remain happy knowing that one day, they'd be eaten by a larger predator, and there would be nothing at all they could do about it.
Yet perhaps the most confusing of all was you.
You, who has never picked up a weapon in your life. He asked you about why, onceâ while watching you flit around your home to and fro as if cleaning the dust from your windows would be of any real benefit to you.
"I just never felt the need to, I suppose." You had looked at him a little curiously, but given him a smile when you answered nonetheless. Lohen found himself at a loss on what to say in return to that. It was absurd. Even as a young child, Lohen had been around weapons. His first toy was a handmade wooden bow from his parentsâ and even now, he never left his home without at least one dagger tucked up his sleeve.
But you were perfectly happy never to touch a weapon in your life. You were the very epitome of everything Lohen despised about himself. Slow. Weak. Powerless. Mortal.
And yet, for some reason he was unable to place, Lohen couldn't bring himself to hate you for it.
Instead, he found himself drawn into your presence like a moth to a flame. After his late night trips into monster camps he would end up at your door after every injury without fail, leaving puddles of blood on your porch step. You welcomed him in every time, your hands as gentle as the breeze as you ushered him into the warmth of your home.
"We've got to stop meeting like this," He'd joke, lightheaded from the blood lossâ and you'd laugh in that way that reminded Lohen of the bells that chime around the city during Windblume. It was easy, in the dark of night, to ignore how his heart fluttered at the sound. It was less easy to ignore in the morning, while he helped you to scrub his bloodstains off of your porch.
But he had to wonderâ When you touched him so carefully, to wipe the blood from his face with a damp cloth, to disinfect his numerous woundsâ did it count as holding a weapon?
Lohen liked to think that it did. Perhaps it made him feel safer with the concept of your weakness; by having him around, you basically had a weapon on hand. A dangerous, volatile weapon, who was likely to cut the hands of whoever were to wield him, but a weapon nonetheless.
It certainly makes him feel safer now, standing at your doorstep out of uniform with a basket of fresh fruit in one hand and a dagger tucked into his other sleeve. Returning to your home feels a bit like returning a sword to its sheathâ tucked away neatly so it can't cut anyone, while still remaining on the body of its owner in case of an emergency. While indulging in your weakness, Lohen is also keeping you safe at the same time. His presence alone is akin to that of a weapon, after all of the training he has gone through to twist himself into one.
Lohen tosses the thought of you owning him like a weapon around in his mind a bit, and finds rather quickly that the idea isn't entirely unpleasant to him.
"Lohen!" The door creaks a little when you push it open, and theres flour dusted across your cheeks. Your eyes don't even scan him for weapons before you're welcoming him inside, a grin tugging at your lips like it belongs there. "Come in, come in! I'm just baking right now, I'll put this down and we can chat!"
The knight can only shake his head, raising up the little basket of fruits he brought along with him. You brighten at the sight, and Lohen is a bit dazed by the fact that you hadn't even noticed that he was holding something. If someone had come to your door with a knife, would you have still opened it? Worse, stillâ would you have even been able to fight back?
Lohen can't ponder that thought for too long before you're approaching, keeping your powder-covered hands away as to not stain his clothes.
"Ehh, don't worry about that," Lohen finally said, his response feeling just a bit too late to be natural. "I'll help out. We can use some of the stuff I brought."
"Alright, alright. But you can't complain when I put you to work!" You laugh, and Lohen is once again reminded of the Windblume bells. "Why'd you bring this over, anyway? Some special occasion I'm forgetting?"
"Hm? Ohâ Just consider it a⊠'friendship fee'. They were a gift from my team, and they'd just rot at my place."
The lie slips out easily. In truth, Lohen had seen them for sale on the way to your home, and thought immediately of how you'd smile at the sight of such a gift. You seem somewhat content with his explanation, however, scoffing under your breath about how you don't need any kind of payment for your friendship.
Somehow, the word 'friendship' feels incredibly flimsy when Lohen thinks about you, but he makes no effort to correct himself in the moment.
"What're you making, anyway?" Lohen finally asks, clearing his throat a little as he sets the basket down on your counter.
"Apple pie!" You brush against his side as you eye up the fruits in the basket, carefully plucking out the ones that you deemed acceptable. Your touch feels hot against his side, even through his shirt. Lohen has to take a shaky breath in, the burn of your touch more delicious than any other pain he's ever felt. "Lucky you brought extra, I was worried I wouldn't have enough."
You set the handful of apples down in front of him one at a time, making a neat little row across the counter. Right next to them, you place down one of your kitchen knives. You carelessly leave the blade pointed at yourself, and Lohen can't stop himself from reaching over and pointing it towards himself instead when you aren't paying attention.
"Here, cut these up for me? With the both of us working, it should be a lot faster!" You turn away after that, busying yourself with finishing up the batter for what it likely the pie crust.
Seeing you so domestic was⊠almost frightening. Whether you realized it or not, this life you lived was unbearably fragile. One wrong move and this world you've built would come crumbling down into a heap. You'd be left defenseless, your simple routine of dusting windows so the sun shines through and baking on weekends for no reason in particular completely useless at leaving you prepared for such an outcome.
Lohen swallows hard, his throat suddenly feeling tight as he picks up the blade you left for him. It was hard to imagine himself ever living in such a fragile, gentle world with you. You turned your back away from him like you hadn't just given him a knife, trusting him wholly not to run the blade through your chest. He never would, of course, but there was no way you could ever truly know that.
His grip tightens around the knife in his hand, the sensation both familiar and foreign.
Out of the two of you, it was clear that you were the weaker party. You couldn't fight, you didn't own weapons, and you were overwhelmingly trusting of him. Perhaps to a fault.
So why was it that Lohen still felt that it was him? Why was it that his hands felt so useless when he saw your smile? Why was it your face he saw in his mind every time he lost a battle?
In an act of uncharacteristic obedience, Lohen turns away from your form and begins cutting up the apple you placed in front of him. He isn't sure when he became so invested in this domestic routine of yours, but imagining a life without it makes his stomach roll uncomfortably.
Lohen has trained himself into a weaponâ but for you, he finds that the idea of living in a domestic routine suddenly doesn't sound too terrible. If you asked, he would gladly cut up apples for you while you baked. He would scrub his blood off your porch. He would fight off any monster that dared to look your way.
And this soft life you lived⊠Lohen would just have to become twice as strong to protect it in your stead.
His unimaginable stamina is not as impressive as his never ending will to have a fight against any enemy or anything that imposes even the slightest strength, really. His eyes cradle the wildest thousand yard stare, the hair messy after getting roughed up by a group Fatui debt collectors with a few too many tricks up in their sleeves. Blood sliding down his chin and dirtying the worn out battle ground as he thrusts the floor with his polearm to use as a leverage. Lohen looks forward as the sun rises between the mountains.
Would you mind if he passed by your home at dawn again?
You, a humble healer who lives on their own far away from the city of Mondstadt, caught his eye for the first time while the vice captain was having a face off with a ruin guard that wouldnât surrender for nothing. Good for him, but not for your peace. The boy was getting dizzy by the blood loss that nasty head injury the ruin guard nailed, he was on the verge of passing out at any given moment. Abandoning the grocery from the port of Mond, you rushed to use your vision to impede Lohen from getting himself killed by the adrenaline rush â the only thing keeping him up at this point.
This change of heart, however, ruined your peace for the next couple months.
Knocking at your door, you take a while to get to it despite the small house. Your reaction to his devastating state will never cease to make Lohenâs smile creep up and adorn his face.
âThis is quite nostalgic, isnât it?â Heâd muse, bowing his head as he always does whenever visiting you.
You make haste, of course, concerned about your new rug but even more distressed at the sight of your inconvenience that gave you a good wake up. âWhatâs with you?! Was it another ruin guard?â You ask while guiding him to a different location of your house instead of the kitchen with the good olâ med-kit. âCome quick. And if another blood drops in my rug Iâll finish its job myself.â
First door of the corridor on the left, you open it even more and reveal it to be your bedroom with half of the med-kit lying on the dressing table. Lohen, being held by arm, halts right before entering.
âOh please, itâs notâŠâ He thinks quickly on an excuse not to make things awkward between the two of you. âHey, it wouldnât be very, you know, knightly of me to enter your chamber like that. I can wait in the kitchen.â
You stop on your track, look over your shoulder in disbelief because he is literally drying his own blood through those cuts and his first worry is to not enter your bedroom. Makes perfect sense.
If it werenât for the suddenness of the act, you might have thought it to be adorable, but your worrying plummeted your adoration.
âDude, justâ come inside! Youâre bleeding through all holes and cuts, for Barbatosâ sake! Who cares about being a gentleman or whatever right now?â
You gently grab his biceps again, careful with the cuts, and try to make him move with you but itâs to no avail. Heâs got a better grip and firms his feet on the creaking wood floor, insisting on resting in the kitchen. âNo, no, Iâll survive a few minutes while you gather your stuff. Please, I canât enterâŠâ
His voice cracks a little as he coughs saliva mixed with blood from his lips after that ridiculous punch that got him with his guard down.
âLohen!â This distressed tone almost made him feel bad for the stubbornness. With a quick âexcuse meâ he limps your way, ignoring the relieved breath and relaxing your furrowed brows.
There wasnât anything weird between you two, nothing left untold â you thought so â to escalate a confusion such as this to an awkward silence. Lohen and you had gone through this frequently: the subtle touches of your hand where he swore he âdidnât feel anythingâ, the gauze after the healing potion going right where it hurts making a small hiss come out of him, the precision of your sewing prowess to attach skin to skin back or your concentrated look on his cuts right on the lips.
The dry and fresh blood, the iron scent that reeks from him, the moss, dirt and alcohol staining his skin and clothes donât make the scenario appealing to anyone else, itâs a disgusting and messy mixture of what many tend to avoid to show to attest their glory for fighting. Lohen felt intimate with you, in a non-sexual way, because you never scoffed at his sight, you didnât hide an ugly face when in face of guts and rests of monsters still on him. You offered aid when he denied, you covered him once he asked and even put up with his asks for a spar you vehemently denied. You know him and silently accept without invading his personal life or incessantly questioning or indulging him to change his way. Most of all, you arenât scared of him. You respect him. And it goes both ways.
This ugly, messy, battle maniac Lohen isnât contained in front of you.
Perhaps the bedroom door scene caused a shock because this value taught to the knights made his brain short circuit, rethink for milliseconds how he should see you. The camaraderie was more like it. Still, you are so unknown and not camaraderie-esque, he was afraid of barging in and having you take your leave.
Your place in his life was never questioned once before, you were like the familiar fragrance the passing wind blew his way, a spirit caught in the peripheral vision, a favorite spot he rarely visited to preserve its duration even if it fades in the memory land. Who are you and how should he call you?
Home. You are home. He yearns for the comfort you bring, the acceptance and the warm coffee at four in the afternoon you always have. He should drop the anxiety and formalities and stay at home at once. Until he gets better from his injuries your small inconvenience is going to be a sweet headache.
(thank you lohen for satisfying my fantasy of a crooked, fucked up, anti-hero knight in shining armor tartaglia could not fulfill)
this is my first attempt in writing after years of not writing proper fanfictions, even if they're oneshots from my favorite characters, be kind with me <3
FREAKY LOHEN! whose unbearable, savage stamina was not content to waste precious hours on bathing himself with the impure blood of the foes he had ruthlessly slaughtered in his typical maniacal fashion, but rather reserved that particular endurance for the personal matters of intimacy. The length of his exhilarating adrenaline will determine the extent of the numerous rounds of sexual activity he can engage in without tiring. The average number of sessions he never counted was up to five or six times in a single night, but when he was rarely feeling particularly mellow, the only merciful limit he imposed on himself was one or two times. He took pleasure in the way your broadened eyes gaped at him with a mixture of surprise and disbelief, your inviting mouth hanging open in a circular O shape whenever he was quick to rush for another round after finishing a toe-curling, creamy climax. His cocky smile mocked your overstimulated state; his empty red eyes were half-lidded with dark satisfaction. "Oh? Fuuuckkk⊠Clenching me like a dirty little slut⊠You thought we were done, sweet thing? Ohohoho, I'm not even beyond satisfied yet, hmm? You can take it. FUCK! GrrrâŠHaaa⊠You will take it." Those last words of his taunting tone had driven his hardened pinkish tip further into your quivering core, having your shaking hips maintained in his relentless grip, while he giggled enticingly at your helpless state.
FREAKY LOHEN! whose body, carved from sinewy muscle and smooth, is ornamented with various persistent battle scars derived from his many conquests on the battlefield, or rather, in his typical language, his "casual" encounters with unwilling foes for a spectacle of barbaric bloodshed. He carried those old wounds like trophies of his prowess, like a stark reminder that he may be a mortal being, but as long as he doesn't yield to the inevitability of death, the crazier he is to crave the thrill of self-torment. However, ever since you entered his life, he wants nothing more than your pretty hands scratching his battle-scarred back, wanting to feel the firmness of your fingernails digging through his skin until it seeps with small streaks of blood. Or better yet, have your hesitant hand strike his face, leaving a red imprint of your touch on his cheek until it slowly swells into a bruise while he gradually forms a proud smirk, with his tongue thrust on the flesh of his cheek. "Baby, that's it?" he laughed, the sound rumbling in his stomach that delivers a shaking sensation through your vibrating cunt as his cock keeps plugged inside of you. "Barely felt anything, like a kitty scratch," he taunted, cocking his head to the side. This encouraged you to deliver another slap on the other side of his face with more force, watching his face rock to the side and a noticeable string of blood dripping on his nose. He licked the blood off his upper lip, a wicked glint in his eyes as he whispered, "Oh, now we're talking."
FREAKY LOHEN! is a lover whose trust in you is unwavering in several aspects. He had good faith in your capacity to lawfully devote yourself to him, both emotionally and physically. Unfortunately, not when it comes to certain individuals who may pose a threat to seek your hand behind his unsuspecting back. He is aware of the expanding attraction circling around you like unwanted pests daring to be squashed by his foot; none of his threatening gestures or cold stares were sufficient enough to deter them. There was one solution he had in mind to ensure a clear, harrowing message was sent to those individuals who dared to encroach on his territory. At the Favonius Keep, somewhere secluded, was where most of the knights who joined the long-running expedition were stationed, and it was the perfect opportunity for a spectacular show for these weary knights. You hid your face, flushed with embarrassment and arousal, having your hands uselessly find grip on the edge of a wooden crate and facing your arched back to him as Lohen steadied your shaking hips with firm hands while his cock continued to abuse the poor hole in a relentless rhythm that sent you going back and forth in a dizzying haze of pleasure and pain. You attempted to lower your moans, aware of the other knights nearby, but your lover lifted your face from behind and whispered in your ear. "Lower your moans again, and I'll send the knights here to have a little audience for our performance," he threatened playfully, his breath hot against your skin. "You don't want that, do you? Hmm?" he pouted, sending a sharp thrust that made you gasp in surprise and whine in pleasure. "Nooo⊠No⊠HaaahhâŠ" Lohen giggled mischievously, his fingers trailing down your spine, watching you squirm under his teasing touch. "That's what I thought," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "A little preview wouldn't hurt, but if someone had balls to witness you like this, I might have to get a little more creative with my threats," he chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
can u maybe write about lohen stealing his darlings panties and how he would get himself off without her.. đ„șđđ
Yesđ„ș
Lohen is a desperate little fuck. In public he presents himself as a composed man. Bloodthirsty yes, but still a gentle man.
But he's so much more different when it comes to you. He becomes desperate, needy. All he wants is to be with you.
Whenever you're out running errands or busy with a mission, Lohen has to find ways to satisfy himself.
Your clothes are always his first option. They have your scent and your warmth, everything he needs to feel close to you. But your panties will always be his favorite.
When he goes into your bedroom, the first thing he grabs are your panties. He'll rut into them like a man possessed until their all wet and slick. Most of the time he keeps and throws them away. But sometimes, he'll just put them right back into your drawer.
He loves watching you walk around in panties that are soaked in his release >_<
Receiving that unforeseen proposal from the vice captain himself had sent the last remnants of the slightly sweet yellowish liquor down into the wrong pipe of the said grandmaster, who was now stunned at his boldness and then promptly choked on his drink, drawing nearby attention from drunk folks at the Angel's Share.
It took minimal endeavor for Varka to recover his bravado, coughing up the small amount of liquid that had entered his airway and loudly clearing his throat as if to emphasize his seriousness in the matter. He fixed the unfazed man with a steely gaze, firmly ramming his beer mug against the table, crossing his muscular arms as his back settled over the chair.
"Y'know, kid, I let you off chasing your thrill for violence because it's something you clearly have a passion for," he began, his voice low and thoughtful.
Lohen nodded in agreement; there was a slight twitch on the corners of his lips, betraying a hint of amusement and reminiscence.
Hm, the grandmaster wasn't incorrect in his observations. He had been consistent in his streak of recklessness and impulsiveness, always seeking out danger and excitement without much regard for consequences, causing everyone a headache at one point or another.
Now he's extending that migraine to the grandmaster for having the audacity to ask for his blessing on marrying his adoptive daughter.
Though he sensed more words lingering on the tip of Varka's tongue, he patiently allowed himself to be quiet and listen for a moment.
"However," the older man lifted his finger as an emphasis of the gravity of his next words, "you will not marry her," he said firmly, sizing up his fatherly glare to the boy's nonchalance.
Lohen cocked his head to the side, as if he didn't understand why the grandmaster would deny his heartfelt request. With a frown, he replied. "Why not? I'm more capable of protecting your daughter from harm than anyone else."
Varka stammered for a bit, attempting to make logic of his concerns before finally speaking. He sighed heavily, running a rough hand over his stressed face before answering, "Again, I don't doubt your capability of protecting her."
Lohen continued to press on the matter, his body slightly leaning over curiously. "Then what is the issue?"
Varka didn't respond right away, bringing out his emergency flat metal container of booze from the pockets of his jeans, uncapping the circular lid, and then replying. His eyes gently cast down at the awaiting drink. "[Y/N] is still trying to figure out what to do with her life."
He paused, taking a quick sip of the alcohol, and then continued with a sigh. "She just turned into a lovely young woman and has stuff that she is passionate about, sure. But I don't want to interfere with her path by just accepting," he motioned with his hand toward Lohen. "Your blessing without her input."
He took another sip before looking back up at the latter. "And of course, as her father, I don't just casually let suitors into her life without giving them a quick clash to prove their worth." He chuckled lightly, shaking the half-emptied container in his hand. "My daughter deserves a man who is willing to work for her love and respect, not just someone who expects it to be handed to him on a silver platter."
Though his eyes had little warmth beneath them, only a fair warning.
"Is that all clear?" Varka said with a sense of finality.
Lohen was silent. Remarkably rare for him, as he usually had a quick response ready. Though his silence should not be mistaken as an agreement to the wise words of the grandmaster, it was more likely a sign of defiance or just plain ignorance. "Then could you relay the message to [Y/N]?" he requested.
Varka deadpanned. "Are you even listening to me, kid?"
"Oh, I did," Lohen replied, nodding his head. "If you wish to know how serious I am about your daughter, then let's settle it with a duel." In the blink of an eye, blue swirls of energy enveloped Lohen's hands as he materialized a polearm that gleamed in the sunlight, ignoring a certain red-headed individual's annoyed protest of, "If you're gonna bring bloodshed, at least get out of the tavern."
The casualness had eventually transformed into that signature maniacal grin and bloodthirsty glint in his dull red eyes that Varka had seen too many times before.
At this point, Varka would rather assume that Lohen wanted an excuse to fight him under the guise of proving his commitment to his daughter.
Kids these daysâŠ
"You are really going to extreme lengths just to prove a point," Varka remarked, pinching his nose in disbelief. "But if that's what it takes for you to show your dedication, then so be it."
He rested his hand on the back of his chair, pushing himself up to stand, and cracking the joints in his neck as he did so.
"What are you two doing?"
Both men froze at the familiar owner of that sweet voice.
There you stood at the entrance of the tavern, your hand positioned on the wooden door frame, a look of curiosity and concern etched on your face. You took the opportunity to use the silence as an edge to assess the situation unfolding before you, wondering why the hell they are trying to cause a ruckus as an invitation to be permanently banned by the tavern in the middle of the night.
You looked first at your sheepish father, scratching his blond hair in awkwardness, and then at the Lohen who was still equipped with his weapon, as if ready for a fight or really ready for a fight.
His battle-hungry expression schooled back into one of casual indifference as he caught your eye, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"Good evening, my lady," he said with a slight bow, his tone laced with practiced charm. "We were just having a little chat with your father here." He motioned with his head to the old man who's currently giving him a look, though the gesture was disregarded purposefully, and then Varka turned his attention to you, clearing his throat.
"So⊠Uh, how's the progress of your collaborated research with Albedo, sweet pea?" he asked, forcing a poor attempt at a smile, sitting back on the stool as he tried to hide the awkwardness that flickered in his eyes.
At the mention of the affectionate nickname from a long, long ago, your face scrunched up in disgust. It had been quite some time since he had addressed you with that endearing term, and using that specifically now felt like a deliberate attempt to divert your attention from the bigger picture.
"What is going on here, Dad?" you replied, arching a distrustful eyebrow.
Silence followed after your question, the tension in the room palpable as you waited for his response. Finally, it was not your father who cracked the stillness, but rather the part-time bartender himself, Diluc.
"This gentleman," Diluc said, setting his gaze at Lohen while keeping his hands busy cleaning the same glass over and over again, "has asked for your father's blessing to propose to you." Then he shifted his bored gaze back to your unusually quiet father, a hint of amusement betraying his expression despite the border of professionalism he maintained.
He can already tell the simmering betrayal emitting from Varka, judging by how tensed his jawline is and how his grip on the container tightens.
"ProâŠproposal?" you stammered, your face burning from feeling caught off guard by the mention of an unexpected proposal.
Diluc nodded in confirmation, a small smirk playing on his lips as he observed your flustered reaction. "I'll leave the rest of the details to them," he said, gesturing towards your father and Lohen. He placed the glassware on an open upper cabinet, mouthing to you, "Good luck," before excusing himself from the situation to avoid getting tangled further in the delicate family matters.
Now, it was just the three of you, and maaaaybeeee, a knowing audience secretly watching the drama unfold from a discreet distance.
Your father chugged down the remaining booze from the container, swiping off the dripping juice from his chin with the back of his hand and sighing heavily. "As Diluc stated, yes, he was trying to get my blessing to marry you."
He tightened the lid of the container and set it back on the counter, his expression unreadable. "And I refused his request."
"YOU REFUSED HIS REQUEST?!"
The sheer volume of your bewildered voice jolted your father, causing him to flinch slightly. Even Lohen was stunned, but slightly touched by your shaky reaction.
He returned the bewildered stare, his eyebrows knitting together as if he weren't expecting the intensity of your reaction. "Hey, keep it down, will you?" he muttered, glancing around to see some of the drunkard fools furthering indulging themselves with the drama until they wisely looked away after catching his warning-like glare.
"I refused to give him my blessing until you give me your permission to marry you,"
He scowled. "But I doubt you would agree; you're doing fine on your own without boys trying to flock over youâ"
"Then I want to marry him!"
"Huh?"
"Please let me marry him, Dad!"
Lohen looked back and forth at the father-daughter interaction with profound intrigue, his heart swelling with a mix of emotions.
Well, this is certainly unexpected, he thought to himself. But he wasn't complaining either.
You pressed forward before courage could desert you again.
"I've⊠I've liked him for a long time, Dad." Your voice cracked on the admission, with your cheeks scorching hot. "Months? I don't know, maybe longer?" You scratched your head in frustration, running your hand over your disheveled hair.
"It just is, okay! I know he throws himself into every fight like it's the only thing that makes him alive⊠but he still finds a way to check if I'm okay first, even when he always comes back bruised. " You swallowed hard, eyes now fixed somewhere near Lohen's boots because looking at either man right now felt impossible.
"I keep waiting for the right moment to say something, but every time I tried, my tongue kept getting stuck⊠I was too shy to confess."
Silence stretched thin and fragile.
Then the said man exhaled; that might have been relief dressed up as a scoff. The blue energy coiling up around his polearm flickered once and dissolved; the weapon vanished into motes of light as though it had never been summoned. His posture loosened, his shoulder dropping the battle-ready tension he'd worn like armor.
He turned toward Varka, lips curling into that familiar, infuriatingly smug smirk.
"See?" Lohen drawled, spreading his hands in mock innocence. "No need for bloodshed after all. Your daughter just gave her permission herself." The red glint in his eyes sparked with self-satisfaction, then softened a fraction when his gaze slid back to you. He confidently approached you, his hand taking yours, and kissed it gently. "You save a lot of trouble for us, my lady."
You blushed at the unexpected praise, unable to contain your wobbly smile.
Meanwhile, Varka dragged a hand down his face, muttering something unintelligible that sounded suspiciously like a prayer for patience to Barbatos. After a long beat, he finally looked between the two of you, expression caught somewhere between resignation and reluctant fondness.
The consequences of being a parent to a daughter, he guessed. He's more flexible when it comes to letting you get away with things than he'd like to admit, but he couldn't deny the pleasure it brought him just to see you happy.
"âŠFine," he grunted, his voice rough.
He fixed Lohen again with a glare. "But if you make her cry even once, kid. I won't need a duel. I'll just bury you under Stormterror's Lair and tell everyone you got lost on a routine patrol."
Lohen's grin widened, unfazed by the protective-fatherly threat. "Noted."
Varka groaned. "I need another drink for this. You two are going to be the death of me."
Then his gaze drifted to your intertwined hands and grumbled. "Save the PDA for when you're married, please. You two are not allowed to hold hands in public until then."
"Daaaaddddd!" you whined, sending him a half-hearted glare.
Lohen brushed off his feeble warning with a chuckle. "We'll be sure to keep our hands to ourselves until the big day, Grandmaster."
oneshot & fluff âȘÂ in which, lohen is openly smitten with y/n, an angelic and reserved presence, but she remains completely indifferent to his obvious feelings, treating him with the same calm politeness as everyone else.
â· lohen ; genshin impact
LOHEN HAD NEVER been subtle about anything he felt, though he liked to believe otherwise.
It was obvious to everyone else in the Knights of Favonius, the way his attention shifted the moment she entered a room, how his usually composed expression softened just slightly whenever Y/n was nearby, and how he always, without fail, ended up standing closer to her than he needed to.
Y/n, however, never reacted to any of it in the way people expected.
She was calm in a way that felt almost distant, an angelic presence who spoke softly and moved like she belonged to stillness itself.
There was kindness in her, yes, but it was quiet, evenly distributed, never leaning toward anyone in particular.
Even Lohen, for all his obvious attempts, was met with the same measured courtesy she gave everyone else.
âYou are staring again,â one of the knights eventually muttered under their breath.
Lohen didnât bother denying it. His gaze remained fixed across the courtyard where Y/n stood speaking with another knight, her posture perfectly composed, her voice low and steady.
There was nothing remarkable about the moment to anyone else, yet he watched like it was the only thing worth seeing.
âI am observing,â he replied calmly, though no one believed him.
He tried in every way he could think of to bridge the distance between them. Small gestures at first, like offering assistance she never asked for or bringing her tea he insisted was perfectly brewed.
Later, it became more deliberate, lingering near her during meetings, timing his steps so he would walk beside her without making it obvious he had planned it that way.
None of it changed how she treated him.
Not negatively. Not positively.
Just⊠the same.
âLohen,â she greeted him one afternoon as he approached, her voice as soft as ever.
He stopped immediately, as if that alone required his full attention. âYes?â
She gestured slightly to the space beside her, expression neutral. âYou are blocking the light.â
He blinked once, then stepped aside without question, âOf course.â
There was no hesitation in him, not when it came to her, and that in itself had become its own kind of problem.
It was not that she ignored his efforts. She acknowledged them. She always did. When he brought her tea, she thanked him. When he offered help, she accepted or declined politely.
When he stayed nearby longer than necessary, she simply continued her work as if his presence was no different from the wind outside the windows.
One of the knights once asked her directly if she knew Lohen was in love with her.
She had paused for a moment, thinking about it with genuine consideration, before replying simply, âIs he?â
That answer reached Lohen faster than anything else ever had.
Still, he continued as he always did, because stopping felt stranger than being ignored.
One evening, he found her alone on the balcony overlooking Mondstadt.
The wind moved gently through the space between them, and for a while neither of them spoke. It was a familiar kind of silence, not uncomfortable, just unfilled.
Eventually, he stepped closer, stopping at a respectful distance, though he always seemed to struggle with what that meant around her.
âY/n,â he said quietly.
She turned her head slightly. âYes?â
He hesitated for a rare moment before asking the question he had avoided for far too long, âDo you dislike me?â
That made her look at him properly, her expression unchanged but thoughtful in the way she always was when something required honesty.
âNo,â she answered after a pause. âI do not dislike you.â
There was a slight relief in his shoulders before she continued, still calm, still unhurried.
âI simply do not interpret your behavior the way others do.â
He understood what she meant immediately, though it didnât make it easier to hear.
âYou are aware,â he said quietly.
She nodded once, âYou are affectionate toward me.â
There was no teasing in her voice, no embarrassment in his. Just fact, stated plainly between them.
Silence settled again, heavier this time.
Lohen exhaled slowly, his gaze shifting away for a moment before returning to her, âAnd you do not feel the same.â
It was not a question, and she did not treat it like one.
Instead, she answered with the same quiet honesty she always used. âI do not feel much in that way. But I do not find your presence unpleasant.â
It was not what he had hoped for, but it was not rejection either.
And somehow, that mattered.
He leaned lightly against the railing beside her, allowing the silence to stretch again, though it no longer felt empty.
âThen I will remain present,â he said simply.
Y/n glanced at him, then back toward Mondstadt. After a pause, she responded just as calmly, âThat is your choice.â
Lohen x apprentice!reader:part two to this. Hopefully this is goodđ” prolly not, but I tried my best I swear!! Not proofread bc I was making my storage room and an exp farm. Idk the word count:(( aaaaaa lohen come out already i wanna know more abt u
Somehow, after that..event, Lohen has gotten even more insufferable.
Itâs bad enough that heâs seen you literally naked, fed him by hand, and slept with him beside you in flimsy clothingâsomehow, he wants more! In fact, youâve confronted Alice and Varka about his renewed interest of bothering your life.
âUh..not quite my problem, missy.â He said as he laughed it off awkwardly, running away.
âSounds to me like you need an Alice Special Treatment!â Like hell youâd risk angering the heavens for the sake of one man.
Needless to say, they did absolutely nothing and the maniac has continued to torture you by popping up at your door, sitting at your chair, sometimes even just outright laying down your bed. âWhen did you become part of this household?â âYou mean how I got your key? Donât worry about it, little mage. You adore me, anyway.â Oh, you could just rip his hair out.
It might be the first time youâve ever wanted Aliceâs experiment to be repeated. Unfortunately, you canât exactly threaten the life of a skilled warrior and go against your own principles solely because he was annoying.
You really did just have to suck it up and adapt. Which shouldnât be that hard. Except of course, it very much is.
Right now, Lohen found himself sitting right beside your work station, nudging every once in a while. He heard you murmur a while back, âDo you not have work to do?â but he chose to ignore it for the sake of not being kicked out. Instead, he observes.
You were busy practicing a type of magic youâd found fascinating. Youâve never had the chance to learn it until Alice gave you the key a few days agoâto try and make up for giving you the Vice Captain.
âIn my defense, dear, I tried telling you it was him! You cut me off, so itâs your fault.â What a way to deflect the blame!
âSayâŠâ Oh no, heâs speaking again. You sighed and turned your gaze toward him, setting your hands on the table. You probably needed a break, anyway. âWhat.â âDonât be like that! Iâm trying to offer myself as a test subject, here.â
âExcuse me?â Did you hear it right? Probably, given that heâs all smiles as he chewed gum (you donât even know where he got it, really). âYouâre trying something, yes? Iâm a very willing tortureâ erm, test subject. No grudges.â He held his hand up, swearing as he grinned.
âDo you even know what Iâm trying to do?â You sighed, clicking your tongue as you rested your chin on your palm, looking at him in distaste.
Heâd be lying if he said that gaze of yours didnât do anything near making his heart skip. Ah..I should focus. âGiven who your mentor is, something probably bordering dangerous.â He tried shrugging it off in an attempt to conceal the slight shake in his voice. Heâs excited. Heâll probably end up unable to function properly for at least 3 days.
You hummed in agreement. Canât argue with that. âStill..you have duties as a Vice Captain, right? Actually, Iâve been meaning to ask you that. Are you sure you have time to be hanging around with me like this? Well, leeching.â His smile faltered a little before it went back to normal, âIâm quite free. Besides..â he leaned closer, âIâm yours, anyway.â
Shivering lightly, you pushed him by the chest. That does no good to the heart. Proximity is dangerous, treat it with care. âI believe weâve already established youâre not a rabbit and youâre not my pet.â He rolled his eyes, murmuring softly to himself, ânot what I meant.â before recovering to a better heard voice. âDoes it not increase your chances? Of success?â âAgain, you donât even knowââ âThen say it already.â He sounded a bit exasperated now.
Now, youâre not as eccentric as your mentor nor the other Hexenzirkel members. But, you had to be, to some degree, to even be accepted as an apprentice. To be someone who challenged fate itself, someone who can promise change.
Thus, youâre no different in terms of desires. Youâve been trying different ways of magic, typically similar to your mentor, but less hazardous to people or were-people. And lately, youâve been interested in Alchemy and Environmental Engineering. Which brings you to your current experiment: a device, life-form, or even simply a potion that can alter a space or land into a better version of itself. A direct opposition of the Withering found in the wilderness of Sumeru, something that creates improvement rather than help innovation. However, a device would be better. Youâre not about to risk utilizing the art of khemia, nor do you want to go for something as simple as a potion.
Lohenâs eyes scanned you for a moment as a small pout almost reached his lips. âYouâre taking too long to answer.â That seemed to snap you back to reality, as you looked at him once again. âIâm thinking of creating something that can be attached to humans. A device to improve the land theyâre walking on.â You respond while in deep thought still, gears turning and turning to find the best possible way to make it happen.
âHow..benevolent.â He hoped it was something like an explosive device. Well..experiments ought to still show unfortunate results. âAs Iâve said, I donât mind being used.â You hate how his voice seems to sound excited at the end of his sentence. âA flawed device is prone to explosion. Youâd end up losing a limb.â
âSounds fun.â
-
âLohen!â Your voice rang out and echoed in the silence of the forest, startling the animals that quietly gathered. This included the boar, which you currently have the appetite to fucking eat, that attacked the device that was strapped on Lohenâs ankle. Obviously, it exploded.
Your worried voice sounded so tantalizing to him. Better than he thought it would. He was fineâquick enough to use his spear in taking it off of him before it did any real damage to his ankle.
But you didnât need to know that.
Panting from running as fast as you could, you cleared out the smoke coming from the device, eyes immediately trying to discern his current state.
Lohen looked somewhat pained (youâre not sure if itâs that or heâs actually excited), breathing sometimes coming out in quiet gasps (really, hopefully from pain). âHow much does it hurt? Did the boar bite you in any way, as well?â Your questions were hurried but logical, as you tried to be. Kneeling beside him, your face contorted with nervous anticipation. You still couldnât quite see the damage yet. Somehow, a piece of cloth is covering the âwoundâ.
âItâs not too bad..â he says after a while with a grunt, biting his lip. Then, he signaled you to come closer with his hands before it found yours, grasping. You let him entwine his hands with yours without thinking much of it. âWhat is it? Your pain tolerance should be high enough. Wait here, Iâll try and make a healââ âLittle mage, listen.â He cut you off, resting his forehead with yours. Your eyes looked at him with quiet regret. This is exactly what you told him would happen.
Still, you waited for his words as he closed his eyes every now and then, seemingly collecting himself.
After around 10 minutes passed with you two being on the same position, it was starting to get suspicious. You didnât yet have it in you to remove his hold on your hand as it could very much be something to ease the pain, but his choice of look was starting to feel strange. Did he have to rest his head on your forehead like that? Eventually, the proximity and physical contact got you as you felt heat rise from your neck and to your cheeks and ears, gulping. This is not what you should be feeling in this situation.
As you contemplated whether or not you should move and say something, a few minutes had passed once again. This time, Lohenâs composure fully broke. âAre you that worried for me, little mage?â âObviously! Look, come on and get upââ âhold me, then.â âYou donât sound pained at all?!â
You were nearing your witâs end when his other hand, the one not holding yours, removed the cloth covering the ankle where the device was attached. Aside from the fabric itself being somewhat torn, he looked completely fine. Was he bluffing? You couldnât be too sure yet, and youâd rather not risk accusing someone to be faking pain.
â..how did it not..?â Your confusion was adorable, he thought. âI do believe I avoided the actual explosion.â You nodded and gulped, relief flooding your senses before you tried standing up, only to feel his hand grip yours tightly. âA-ah, it does still hurt, you know?â Heâs quite the terrible actor, given that his expression shows he very much wasnât in pain. You grunt, âDoes it now?â He nodded, trying his best to fake a frown despite the smile gnawing at his lips. You sighed deeply.
Whatever it is heâs trying to gain from this, he did still help you. So you suck it up once again, lifting his arm and letting it rest upon your shoulders as you helped him get up.
By the time you were back in your humble home, youâd have heard the endless tales of his battles. All you got from it was that he was reckless, really. Still, you sat him atop your bed as you collapsed beside him as well. He basically had you carry him, the way you had to drag his weight! He grinned, lying down as well. âWell? The pain?â Ah, right. âSubsided.â You hummed, âgreat. Thanks, you can leave.â His eyes widened slightly as he tried to wince. âO-ow..? Uh, not that much.â Oh, great. Suddenly itâs not bearable.
âAnd what will help?â Absolutely nothing, you surmise. Thereâs no cure for his insanity. âI thinkâŠâ he began, thinking for a moment before your sight changed from the side of your bedroom into his something harder. Like a chest. Like, his chest. Why do you always somehow find yourself in this situation, you wonder?
âThis, probably.â He continued as he sighed in relief, trying to keep his chuckle to himself as his hands wrapped yours around him. âItâs not a very effective way of healing, Iâll have you know.â You mumbled against him as you tried distancing. He snickered, âReally? Donât lie to me, little mage. Last time I experienced this I turned back into a human.â Like hell thatâs a legitimate solution! Before you could respond, he sat upright, sitting you on his lap as well as he inhaled your scent. His arms wrapped you, making himself comfortable as he sat back. His subordinates can rest for a while before he trains them. They probably need it, anyway.
