20 y/o | b-day is july 5th | she/they | INFP | ragbros enthusiast | writing on wattpad | oc x canon enjoyer | yumeshipper | my imagination is my biggest sanctuary
The heavy door of Lohen’s quaint study didn’t so much open as it groaned under the weight of your utter exhaustion. You practically stomped inside, your uniform slightly disheveled, and dropped your clipboard onto the nearest table with a sharp, distuptive clack.
"If I have to explain the basic geometry of a defensive perimeter to one more recruit," you groaned, tossing yourself onto the chaise lounge and pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes, "I am going to use their heads for target practice. I swear, they get dimmer with every year! One of them actually asked me if 'wind direction' mattered for a crossbow."
From across the room, Lohen didn’t look up immediately from his ledgers. The faint, rhythmic scratching of his quill was the only sound for a moment. He let you stew in your dramatic, albeit well-earned misery for a few beats before finally dipping his quill in ink and setting it down.
"I take it the afternoon drills did not yield a breakthrough," he murmured, his voice dry, carrying that familiar sarcasm.
"A breakthrough? They nearly broke through my sanity," you muttered, shifting so you were staring at the ceiling. "I just want to sit in a dark room and not look at a single trainee for the next forty-eight hours."
Lohen rose from his desk. His movements were entirely devoid of the frantic energy that currently consumed him. He walked over to a small, lacquered cabinet on the side wall, unlocked it with a tiny key kept in his breast pocket, and pulled something out.
He walked over to the lounge and stood over you, casting a long shadow.
"Open your eyes," he commanded softly.
You blinked, looking up at him with a faux-pout. Lohen was holding a single, plain, bright red lollipop. It was completely unremarkable, like the kind of cheap confectionery a street vendor in Shnezhnaya might sell for a single Mora. The vivid red translucent candy caught the candlelight, looking deceptively cheerful.
You stared at the sugary treat, a slow, incredulous smile breaking through your fatigue. "A lollipop? Seriously? What am I, five?"
"You're throwing a tantrum reminiscent of one," Lohen countered smoothly, though there was a faint, almost imperceptible twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips. "And sugar is known to placate the irritable. Take it."
You rolled your eyes but reached up, snagging the paper stick from his fingers. "Thanks."
While he stood watching, you popped the candy into your mouth. It was sweet, the taste of sunsettia and peaches filling your senses. It disrupted the bitter taste of a long, frustrating day. You leaned back against the cushions, letting the tension begin to drain from your shoulders. "Fine. It helps. A little bit."
"Good," Lohen said, watching you intently. He didn’t return to his desk, his eyes locked onto your face, analyzing every blink, every breath, and every so small micro-expression.
You didn't mind the scrutiny at first, too busy savoring the tart candy. But after a minute, as the outer layer of the candy began to dissolve, a sharp, metallic tang pierced through the taste. It was faint at first, then rapidly blossomed into a distinct, bitter burn at the back of your throat.
Your brow furrowed. You took the lollipop out of your mouth, frowning at it. "Lohen... what flavor is this? It tastes like..."
Before she could finish the sentence, a sudden, violent cramp gripped your stomach. You gasped, dropping the lollipop onto your lap as you instinctively curled inward, clutching your midsection. Your heart began to hammer against your ribs, a cold sweat instantly breaking out across your forehead. The air in your lungs felt thick and heavy, like you were inhaling wet wool.
"Lohen?" you choked out, your voice suddenly raspy. You looked up at him, panic flashing in your eyes, expecting him to have someone call for Barbara, to at least show some sign of alarm.
But Lohen just stood there. His expression was entirely placid.
"Aconite," he stated calmly, as if reading a weather report. "Wolfsbane. Does that maybe ring a bell? A refined extract embedded into the core of the confection. It affects the nervous system first, then the heart."
You stared at him, betrayal freezing the blood in your very veins even as the poison burned through it. You tried to push yourself up, but your limbs felt like lead.
"Why..." you whispered, your vision already blurring slightly at the edges. "Why would you..."
Lohen knelt beside the chaise, placing a cool, steady hand over your trembling fingers before gripping them. "You see, I have enemies. I'm sure you've noticed. People who know they can't strike at me directly. People who'll eventually realize that the easiest way to break my armor is to cut out my heart."
He squeezed your hand tenderly. It wasn't a threat directly, more so was it a promise.
"They'll try to use you. They'll try to poison your wine, your food, your breath. And I won't allow them the satisfaction of succeeding." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial containing a milky, amber liquid. "I spent a decade making my own blood a graveyard for toxins. And I've been starting yours, as well. 'Tis the antidote. It'll stop the respiratory failure, but it won't stop the pain."
You forced your eyes to lock with his. The agony in your abdomen was sharp and white-hot, but the sheer absurdity and terrifying loyalty of the man before you kept you somewhat anchored. He wasn't trying to kill you. He was trying to make you unkillable, to some extent.
"You... are an insane... bastard," you hissed through gritted teeth, your fingers tightening around his with near bruising force.
"Undoubtedly," Lohen agreed with a bright, boish smile. He uncorked the vial with the antidote and held it to your lips. "Drink. All of it. Tomorrow, we try a slightly higher dosage. In a few weeks time, you won't even need the antidote anymore."
You swallowed the bitter counter-agent, coughing as it fought the wolfsbane in your system. You leaned your head back, panting, the fire in your gut slowly settling into a dull, throbbing ache that made you arch in great discomfort.
Lohen picked up the fallen, half-dissolved red lollipop from your lap, wrapping it neatly back in its discarded paper, before throwing it away.
"Look at the bright side, my sweet thing," he murmured, standing up and heading back to his desk as if nothing had happened. "You're no longer thinking about your trainees."
Don’t mind me being completely honest but you know when you feel your period coming, but you don’t have it yet and it just feels like you’re dying… could you do a Lohen x reader where he is doing his best to take care of reader?
Just a Bad Day, or is it?
a/n: You ask, and I shall deliver. My children shall never know hunger ( •̀ ^ •́ )✧
Warnings: afab reader, periods (it's on the label, read it), ooc Lohen maybe?? reader is a moody person but not a bitch (pms iykyk), reader is a member of the KoF
Whatever Barbatos had planned for you today, it was not going well.
Your routine as one of the Knights who were permanently stationed at Mondstadt was simple. Mondstadt was a peaceful all days of the year under the watchful eyes of the Anemo Archon. Even the monsters here were never as scary as the ones in other nations.
Then why was it so hard to exist today.
Instead of a gentle breeze and birds chirping out your window, you were greeted with a headache in the morning.
'That's fine,' you foolishly thought to yourself as you got ready and made your way to the Church to seek out Barbara.
Except.
She wasn't there.
Apparently, she had to accompany a squad of Knights to Dragonspine and was stationed there for the next week.
You sighed and made your way to your office at headquarters. Surely you'd be fine if you just stuck to paperwork, right?
4 hours later.
You lay down on the sofa of the Grandmaster's office as you tried to cover your eyes with an arm. The headache was now throbbing at your sides, pressing against your skull, and making you dizzy.
You had tried to get something other than paperwork done, but you ended up snapping at the new requits and the knights-in-training. You even made Razor almost cry, for which you immediately apologized and bought him a Sweet Madame at The Good Hunter.
Jean noticed your odd temper and recommended that you take some rest in her office. Which is how you found yourself here at the moment.
The sofa was comfortable and soft, but that's it.
The room was too bright, the chattering of the Knights outside the office echoed in and you had half a mind to poke your head out and politely ask them to tone it down, not to mention your lower back hurt a lot. But you just chalked it all up to a bad night's rest.
'Why the fuck does this room have no curtains?' you mourn to yourself as you twist to find a position where the sunlight isn't scorching your eyelids.
Suddenly, a shadow covers you, the faint scent of rust and bitter acid blanketing your senses.
You knew immediately who it was. There was only one person who'd come here, who'd actively seek you out the moment you were in misery, who'd move as quiet as a cat hunting in the shadows.
"Lohen," you whine, very much welcoming the shadow he cast, but not so much his presence itself, "not now please. I'm not in the mood."
"Well, good afternoon to you as well, Milady." He chirps, his voice dripping with delight.
"A little birdie told me a lady who's known to be gentle and soft was suddenly turned into a harsh superior."
You pry open your lids a little to peek at him. "Just a bad day," you explain, "I just need an hour or two of sleep, or a few bottles of Dandelion Wine."
"I thought terrorizing the new recruits and being the 'bad cop' was my job," he chuckles, as he positions himself better to shade you from the sun.
"Well, it's not bad to switch roles for a day, right?" You smile wearily at him.
Lohen says nothing at that, maintaining his weirdly permanent 'polite' smile as he gives you a look over.
"When did it start?" he asks.
"Start what?"
"This...whole thing you know?"
"Morning, I think. I had a small headache, so I went to the Church to ask for the deaconess, but she's out at Dragonspine as a healer for some squad. I tried to just...sit down, do paperwork, then tried to spar when that wasn't helping, ended up snapping at a few people. So Jean just told me to come here and get some rest instead."
"Why not just ask for the day off? You know she'd be more than willing to give you a day off." He questions, brushing away stray hair that fell on your face when you were tossing around.
"I can't do that," you murmured.
"And why not?" he tilts his face, his hair almost brushing your face.
Instead of coming up with an answer, you turn away from him, burying your face in a cushion instead.
He sighs, coming around the back to hold your shoulders and lifting you slightly. Once he sat where your head was, he gently maneuvered you to lie your head on his lap, while you let him do it like a disgruntled, uncooperative cat.
He gently starts combing his hands through your hair, making sure not to mess up your hairstyle or pull on any tangles. It felt nice, so you just sank your head deeper in his lap.
"Anything else that's bothering you, Liebling?"
You shift your head in his lap, prying your eyes open slightly, "Mmm…my lower back hurts. I probably slept wrong or something."
"What if I take the day off with you?" he suggests.
"No, don't do that. We can't just… dump our workload on everyone else and leave."
"Hmm. Then how about we both ditch work-"
"Lohen."
"-and I take you on a date instead?"
You halt at that idea, a date sounds very tempting to you, especially since Lohen was off to the expedition to Nod-Krai for a while, and even after returning, he spent much of his time at Dornman Port instead of Mondstadt city. Spending time together was pretty difficult.
"Oh, that would make you happy, wouldn't it~" he says, delighting in your lack of an answer.
"But we can't just leave- stop scratching my chin! I'm not a cat!" You protest as you try to bat his hands away from your face.
"No you're not," he coos, bringing his hand to painfully pinch one of your cheeks, "You're my little bunny! My sweet bun-bun."
"Shut up," you mutter.
He starts to push you off his lap, propping you up against the cushions. You were, admittedly, a little sour that your little moment of serenity was so rudely interrupted, which did not go unnoticed by the Vice Captain.
"Oh come now, don't look at me like that, Liebling," he says, smoothing over your hair, "Gather up your things. We're leaving. I'll let Jean know."
Before he could take a step, you tugged at his sleeve, wanting him to stay with you for a while longer. He turns at that, slowly pulling his sleeve from your grip, and cradling your hand in his instead.
"What is it?" he asks, squeezing your hand lightly.
"Can we…", you hesitated, mostly because you were still thinking about leaving work, "….go to the Cat's tail for our date? I feel like petting all the cats will make me feel much better. Maybe. I don't know, just...do something lowkey, I guess."
Lohen frowns at that, thinking deeply on your request.
'Perhaps not,' you thought to yourself.
"It's-it's alright, then we can just...do whatever you want-"
"Oh no no no no no no Liebling!" he cuts off, "I'd do whatever you want to do right now, I just..."
You raise a brow, "Just what?"
He sighs, dropping your hand and folding his behind his back, looking like the picture of a guilty person.
"Just...thought you'd say you wanted to go take down a Fatui camp as a date..."
"Whatever made you think I'd want to do that as a date?"
"I dunno," he shrugs, "I'll be honest, I expected you to be all, you know, pent up and frustrated. I know breaking a few knees brings me joy."
"It was one time, and I wasn't even pent up. I just wanted my subordinates to be safe. I went feral because they hurt one of the knights under me," you mumbled, ashamed that the incident made big news.
He simply nods at not, not entirely convinced, "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Miss Ma'am. So Cat's Tail it is then?"
"Yes, please."
"Got it."
Once you two got permission from Jean to take the day off, Lohen escorted you to the Cat's Tail. While you loved petting all the cats and chatting with little Diona, Lohen was busy trying to get the cats to scratch and bite him with their sharp claws.
Thankfully, the cats in the Cat's Tail were all calm and seemed uninterested in engaging with him, which just led him to ask Diona for a poison cocktail (spoiler alert: she didn't make one for him). After that, he came up to your apartment to spend some more time with you.
"The orange kitty was so cuddly today. It really made my day!" You say, changing your clothes and plopping down on the sofa next to Lohen.
He chuckled as he wrapped a hand around your shoulder to pull you closer to him, "And Diona also went out of her way to mix a special 'mood booster' cocktail for you. That's Mondstadt bartenders for ya."
"I wish I could've stayed for a few more hours," you sighed, "But I could tell the kitties were all getting too spoiled and tired of me pampering them."
He looks at you for a moment, scanning your face, "Hmm."
"What? What is it?" you ask, knowing he's about to say something stupid, or unhinged, or both.
"You know, you're somewhat of a kitty yourself," he suggests.
"I am not!" You protest, yet you couldn't help but giggle as you enjoy Lohen's not-so-rare moment of silliness. Well, it was rare, given how he wasn't in the city all the time, but you cherished it all the same.
"You so are," he insists, "You get all huffy and puffy if I give you too much attention. But secretly, you wish I gave you more, don't you?"
"Hmph, I have other duties here, you know. I can't just keep thinking about my lover." You pout as you cuddle him more.
"Really now? Some new birdies told me that someone was quite worried and missing a certain someone during the Nod-Krai expedition. And also that someone was annoyed that I'd spend time in Dornman Port instead of here in Mondstadt city with them."
You pause, jaw on the floor as you hear the words of betrayal leaked by your juniors, "…I'm gonna break the new recruits' kneecaps tomorrow."
"Invite me, please. I'd enjoy a good show. And I can offer a few useful tips. A win-win," he suggests, poking the tip of your nose.
"You're always like this-"
Before you can even finish what you were saying, Lohen's poking agitated your nose a little, making you sneeze lightly. The sneeze itself wasn't the issue.
It's what you felt after it.
"…"
"…Liebling, are you okay?" He asks, wiping your nose with a napkin, "Haven't caught a chill now, have you?"
"Lohen." You ask quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Can you wait here for a while? I uhh…I'll be right back." You say as you hurry to the bathroom to clean yourself up. And there it was.
Your monthly visitor.
Not that you were unaware of it arriving around this time, it's just a feeling you forget every month and then get disappointed when it happens again.
Oh, how you wish Barbatos had made you an asexual amoeba instead.
But again, such wishes are worthless. How would you be in a relationship with your resident maniac if Barbatos had made you into an amoeba?
You quickly clean yourself up, thankful you had the hindsight to stock up on period supplies ahead of time. But you did so begrudgingly, harboring a deep grudge towards the things you had to do as a woman.
You step out of the bathroom, already feeling a tad more tired than you previously were, accompanied by the feelings of distress and agony for what you were going through.
Though you were pleasantly surprised to see that Lohen had laid out a few extra blankets and snacks in your absence.
"Lohennnnnnnn," you whine as you trudge towards him.
"Oh dear, what is it now?"
"I got my period." You sulk and flop down on the sofa, faceplanting on his lap.
"Aww, my poor darling," he coos, combing his fingers through your hair as he'd done in the Grandmaster's office. He shifts a little, grabbing something from the coffee table.
"Here, these will make your cramps a bit better. I got some chocolates for you here too! Feel free to munch on them all."
You get up for a short while, taking the painkiller he offered you. You then grabbed a few chocolates as you lay back down on his lap.
"You knew," you accuse, your tone of annoyance muffled by the chocolates.
"Hm? Yeah, I did," he shrugs as he says it so nonchalantly.
"What gave it away?" you ask, "My crappy mood? The headache? The unexplainable back pain?"
"Everything, to be honest," he says, petting your head, "That and also the fact that this happened to be the exact date last month that you wiped out that Fatui camp single-handedly. You certainly wouldn't have done that, I thought to myself. But seeing how the newbies shook in their boots every time you instruct them during drills made me believe it in a way."
"That I'd wipe out an entire Fatui camp on a bad day?" You thought aloud.
He nods, "That you'd be a force to be reckoned with on a bad day. I wonder why you weren't in the mood today."
"Too floppy, not enough bones in me to lift a sword," you say, reaching out for another chocolate on the coffee table, but then giving up as you realize it was too far to get without having to move from Lohen's lap.
He notices and grabs them for you, then unwraps a few to feed them to you himself, "Lethargy then. It's fine. We can take down a Fatui camp another day."
"Sorry." You mumble.
"Hey, now don't be sorry about it. I was just hoping you were in the mood to do something like that for…relaxation."
You scrunch your face in offence as he giggles, "Only someone like you would think fighting Fatui is relaxing."
"But now, I was thinking of…something else," he ponders, pausing to form his what you assumed were far from normal thoughts into words.
'On Barbatos' name,' you think to yourself. 'If he says something beyond hinged I'm going to-'
"Can you let me look at your blood? Pretty please." He pleads, pinching one of your cheeks for extra points.
"I will put a spear through you Lohen."
"Don't threaten me with a fun time Bunny~"
a/n: anon I TOTALLY get what you mean when you say that and that's what's made me pick this from the list of reqs I have (I'll write the others too, just not in order ig lol hope y'all understand) I'm one of the people who can just......yk feel when my period's gonna be down to the minute??? I do not know how to explain it but whatever the girlies get it and the ones who don't.......I'm so sorry ૮(˶ㅠ︿ㅠ)ა I hope you start your periods at home and never stain anything.
Also sorry if the fics are taking too much time, I got sick this week so haven't been able to write much ｡°(°¯᷄◠¯᷅°)°｡ , I am getting better so I'll work on Dottore's pt 2 and the reqs ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧
@luminarylorecat Do not repost, translate, adapt, feed into AI, or claim this work. Reblogs and links are appreciated; copying and reuploading are not.
(part 2 because i couldn't sleep and was trying to kill some time)
On the cluttered desk, nestled on top a bunch of maps of the Stormbearer Mountains and an old, stained inkwell, Lohen’s Cryo Vision emitted a cold, teal glow that threw the symbol of the snowflake in its middle onto the ceiling.
In the center of the bed, Lohen and you were a tangled, messy heap of limbs and a few discarded blankets. His right arm hung off the bed, while his other was wrapped snugly around your waist as Lohen slept on his stomach.
He had returned only hours prior from a quite long scouting mission along the borders to Liyue, his muscles still aching even now. You had spent those exact same hours buried under no less than a mountain of a bureaucratic nightmare for Acting Grand Master Jean. Requisition forms, knight transfer notices, and trade ledgers that had left your eyes bloodshot and your mind frayed after you had gone over them more often than you could remember.
The two of you had both been running on fumes. When Lohen had dragged himself through the door, his eyes dark with fatigue, he had found you still scribbling away by candlelight. Mildly annoyed, and desperately wanting nothing more than to burrow into your warmth, he had issued a tired, albeit rather petty ultimatum:
"You know... I noticed a rather large family of huntsman spiders nesting near the barracks today," Lohen had said. "It would be a terrible shame if a few of them managed to crawl into your breakfast rations tomorrow morning. Or perhaps your tea? They do love dark, warm spaces."
It was beyond a cheap shot. He knew you despised spiders; feared them with a visceral, absolute, skin-crawling intensity. But it had worked, had it not? You had dropped the quill obediently, and climbed into bed with him.
Now, however, his threat had backfired.
Beneath the heavy, burgundy quilt, your breathing grew more shallow and ragged by the second. Your eyelids twitched violently. In your exhausted mind, Lohen's casual words had manifested into an uncomfortable reality.
Your head kept conjuring the image of a swarm of multi-legged, skittering monsters closing in on you, trapping you beneath them and crawling all over you. It was horrifying. So horrifying, in fact, that you tossed to the left, your heel kicking blindly at the mattress, while a soft, strangled whine caught in the back of your throat. You twisted to the right, dragging the blankets with you, your fingers clawing at the sheets.
Being a seasoned Knight, and inherently a hyper-vigilant, light sleeper Lohen was dragged from his deep slumber the moment your elbow sharply collided with his ribs for the third time.
His eyes snapped open, almost glowing in the darkness like a pair of cats eyes. He groaned, a guttural and openly displeased sound, as he realized his precious, hard-earned sleep had been thoroughly derailed. He sat up abruptly, his joints popping as he stretched, and looked down at the twisting, murmuring mess beside him that was you.
"Hey," he muttered, his voice gravelly and raspy from sleep. When you didn't respond, only whimpering louder as you kicked out again, he lost his patience. He grabbed your shoulder, shaking you with a rough, unceremonious yank. "Wake up! Open your eyes, before I open them for you!"
You gasped, your eyes flying open as sleep finally lost its grasp on you and you sat up so fast your forehead nearly collided with his chin. The glow of your Vision in the nightstand seemed to flare in sync with your racing pulse for a moment. You were breathless and sweating, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird.
Lohen rolled his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he leaned back against the headboard. "Unbelievable," he scoffed, his tone full of sleepy malice. "I spend hours finishing work, just to come home and have my ribs kicked in because you're having a pathetic little brawl in your sleep. You completely ruined my rest. Do you mind??"
You blinked away the lingering fog of the nightmare, his sharp words registering instantly through your lingering panic. But the fear rapidly mutated into hot, defensive anger.
"Do I mind?!" you hissed, your voice cracking slightly. "You're the one who put those... those things in my head before we went to sleep! It’s your fault! You practically cursed me!"
"Oh, please," Lohen taunted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips despite his exhaustion. He loved pushing your buttons, especially when äyou were too tired to filter your precious reactions. "They're just bugs, no? Little, tiny, harmless bugs... with too many eyes, long legs, and sharp mandibles to pinch your ankles!."
"Lohen!" you yelled, now practically vibrating with rage. Before he could utter another snide comment, you snatched his own plush feather pillow from beneath his head and swung it with full force.
Thwack.
It caught him squarely in the face. "Hey!" he barked, blinded for a second by white linen.
"Shut up! You absolute jerk!" You swung again, hitting his shoulder. "I was terrified, and you're sitting there making fun of me!"
Thwack.
"Stop it-" Lohen growled, his competitive reflexes eventually kicking in. As you raised the pillow for a devastating fourth strike, he lunged forward, catching your wrists mid-air.
The movement sent both of you tumbling across the mattress. You fought back fiercely, wriggling and trying to wrench your arms free, but Lohen was at the advantage. With a heavy sigh, he shoved you down into the mattress, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. He hovered over you, his breathing heavy, locking you in place with his knees.
"Let go of me!" you snarled, baring your teeth in a snarl, your chest heaving against his. "I mean it, Lohen! Let go or I will bite you. I'll bite your shoulder so hard you'll need a bandage from Barbara."
Lohen stared down at you, the moonlight catching the fierce, defiant glare in your pretty eyes, the flush on your sweet cheeks, and the way your lips were pulled back in a feral threat. Slowly, the irritation faded from his face, replaced by a lazy, and distinctly suggestive look. His gaze dropped to your mouth, then back up to your eyes, a wicked, low hum vibrating in his chest.
"A bite, eh?" he murmured, leaning down just an inch closer, his voice dropping an octave into a smooth, dangerous purr. "Don't threaten me with a good time, my little bunny. You know exactly what happens when you start getting violent."
Your face went completely scarlet at his implication, the heat rushing to your ears. You swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of the warmth of his body pinning you down. "Don't... don't get any ideas," you whispered, the threats slowly dying on your tongue and your defense slowly faltering.
Lohen held your gaze for a beat longer, enjoying the absolute power he held over you at this very moment, before the tension finally bled out of his shoulders. He let out a long, exhausted sigh, his forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder with a soft thud.
"...'M too tired for this," he muttered into your soft skin. He released your wrists, his hands sliding down to wrap around your waist instead as he remained resting right on top of you.
You blinked, your hands hovering awkwardly in the air for a second before you slowly let them rest on his arms.
"You're so silly," Lohen murmured, his voice losing its biting edge, returning to the quiet comfort of the night. He blindly reached for the discarded quilt and pulled it up over his own shoulders, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "Terrified of spiders. They’re smaller than your thumbnail, you absolute idiot."
"One day, I will hit you in the head with a shovel," you mumbled defensively, though you didn't try to pull away anymore. In fact, you leaned into his touch, your heart rate finally beginning to slow to a steady, comforting pace.
"Mm. Whatever you say, honeybun," he muttered, his hand gently tracing slow, soothing circles on your side.
You closed her eyes, letting your head slowly drop back into the pillows. Lohen was already drifting off, his grip tightening just a fraction around your waist to keep you exactly where you belonged.
listen. I’m all for “writers deserving of having their boundaries respected” but this is so funny to me and like the funniest part is that I don’t think it’s even grounded in reality. like, how are you going to require proof that your readers are in your specific age range? why does it matter to you how old your readers are??? they are???? strangers???? why do you care? how does it affect you? 😭
but to be fair, this is some shit I did when I was 12 and thought I was edgy too. so I get it.
mild trigger warning for people with arachnophobia, i suppose?
The glow of a single candle did little to pierce the heavy gloom of your private quarters. It cast long, distorted shadows across the mountains of paperwork, before which you were hunched over your desk, your spine aching from hours of sitting in the same spot.
Your eyes, bloodshot and stinging from the harsh combination of fatigue and ink fumes, darted across lines of dry text. Jean expected perfection after your recent lack of said perfection, and you was drowning in the sheer volume of it.
Across the room, Lohen was already lounging sprawled across your bed, the very picture of unbothered indolence. He traced slow, idle patterns on the pillows, his fingers moving with a lazy rhythm that belied the fact that his patience was wearing dangerously thin. He had been waiting. He did not like waiting.
"I'm tired. Come to bed," he sighed, his voice dripping with faux-concern.
"I can't, Lohen. Leave me alone," you snapped, your voice brittle. You refused to even look back at him, terrified that even a momentary glance would shatter what little focus you had left for the night. Again, you dipped your quill into the inkwell with an almost aggressive motion, the scratch of metal on parchment loud in the quiet room.
A heavy, suffocating silence filled the space, followed by Lohen's drawn out, suffering sigh.
Then, you heard the soft rustle of the sheets as he sat up. The shift in his posture was palpable even without looking. When he spoke again, the faux-snark was entirely gone, replaced by a soft, conversational purr that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.
"You know... I noticed a rather large family of huntsman spiders nesting near the barracks today," Lohen began, and a slight wave of dread washed over you. "It would be a terrible shame if a few of them managed to crawl into your breakfast rations tomorrow morning. Or perhaps your tea? They do love dark, warm spaces."
You froze.
The quill hovered a mere millimeter above the page, a heavy drop of black ink trembling on its tip before plunging down to ruin a perfectly good paragraph. You didn't care about the stain. Your breath hitched, a sudden, cold sweat breaking out across your neck.
Your mind vividly supplied the image of multiple, multi-legged horrors skittering out of your bread, black, and big, and hairy. You knew Lohen. More importantly, you knew he was entirely crazy enough to do it just to prove a point.
The silence went on. What the hell were you even supposed to answer with?
Slowly, carefully, you reached out and closed the brass lid of the inkwell. You laid the quill down in its tray. When you finally turned around, your heart was hammering against your ribs.
Lohen was tilting his head, smiling warmly at you as if he hadn't just threatened your very sanity. He looked perfectly serene, lifting a hand to gently pat the empty, inviting space beside him on the mattress.
"Atta girl," he whispered, the words a smooth, possessive caress as you finally crossed the room with hesitant steps and climbed into the bed.
The moment you were within reach, his arms wrapped around you, solid and unyielding. He pulled you securely against his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin and burying his face in your pretty hair. The terrifying edge from moments before vanished, replaced by a suffocating, yet protective warmth.
He rubbed a soothing hand up and down your back, a soft hum vibrating in his chest. "See? I only want what's best for you."
might be a little ooc, i'm trying to get used to this character <3
The afternoon sun filtered through the ancient boughs of the great oak at Windrise, casting beautiful, dappled shadows across the soft grass. The gentle rustle of the leaves and the distant lap of the tides created a perfect, tranquil symphony. A true blessing to the ears.
You stretched your arms over your head, letting out a contented sigh as you leaned back against the gnarled bark of a prominent root. The task Grand Master Jean had assigned you earlier, of clearing out a troublesome slime nesting ground, had been a breeze.
The slimes had been terrorizing local merchants and adventurers for weeks, but you had dispersed them so efficiently that you barely even broke a sweat. Now, with your duties officially concluded, you figured you earned the right to bask in the Mondstadt breeze and do absolutely nothing for the rest of the day.
Your peace, however, was of notoriously short lasting.
"I thought I smelled slacking off from a mile away."
You didn't even need to open your eyes to know who the voice belonged to. A shadow fell over your face, blocking out the warm rays of sunlight you had been enjoying just moments prior.
Slowly, you cracked one eye open, squinting up at Lohen. He was standing over you, still looking thoroughly energized at this time of day. His clothes bore the faint, telltale dust of a recent scuffle, and he was casually resting his weight on one foot.
"I just finished wiping out a Hilichurl camp over the ridge," Lohen continued. "I figured I'd head back to the city, but then I spy a certain someone completely lazing around instead of reporting back to the Knights. Jean really needs to raise her standards for field agents."
You rolled your eyes, letting your head drop back against the tree root with an exaggerated groan. "Give it a rest, Lohen," you muttered, shooing him away with a lazy wave of your hand. "The slimes are gone, the civilians are safe, and I am officially off the clock. Go bother Varka or someone. Let me enjoy the sun."
"Off the clock, eh? In the middle of the day?" Lohen chuckled, a sharp, dangerous glint flashing in his eyes.
Before you could even blink, there was a sudden, swift rush of displaced air. The sharp tip of a polearm blade dropped into your field of vision, stopping a mere inch away from the center of your forehead.
You froze, your eyes tracking up the gleaming length of the weapon to Lohen’s face. He was leaning forward, gripping the shaft of the polearm with effortless control, while looking down at you from above with a challenge dancing in his gaze.
"You've got plenty of energy left if you're talking back," Lohen said, his voice dropping into a low, teasing purr. "Come on. Up on your feet. Spar with me."
You stared at the gleaming tip of the blade, entirely unbothered by the threat of violence but deeply annoyed by the threat to your afternoon nap. Slowly, you raised two fingers and tapped the flat of his polearm, pushing it just an inch to the side so you could look him dead in the eye.
"Lohen, I say this with the utmost respect for your martial prowess: absolutely not," you said, leaning your head back against the bark. "The sun is shining, the breeze is perfect, and I have achieved a state of total inner peace. Do you know how hard that is to come by? Go find a Ruin Guard to poke."
"The Ruin Guards don't parry as well as you do," Lohen replied, not budging an inch. The weapon remained poised, like a physical manifestation of his pesky stubbornness. "And 'no' isn't an option on the table today."
"It's a perfectly valid option! It's a complete sentence, actually," you argued, crossing your arms and glaring up at him. "Besides, we are professional colleagues. We shouldn't be tearing up the fields, yeah? If Vennessa's tree gets damaged because you wanted to play with sticks, Jean will have both our heads."
Lohen let out a low laugh, the tip of his blade twitching playfully. "Nice try, nice try, but the tree will survive. And we're not just 'colleagues' when it comes to this. We have unfinished business." He leaned in a fraction closer, his grin widening. "One to one, should it have slipped your silly mind. You took the first match, I took the second. We're tied. We need a third to finally settle who actually commands the field."
You groaned loudly, covering your face with your hands. "Who even cares? Let's just say you're stronger. There, congratulations, you win. Go celebrate at the Angel's Share."
"No way. A conceded victory tastes like cheap cider," Lohen scoffed, pulling the polearm back just enough to twirl it once with a flashy, effortless flick of his wrist before planting the butt of the shaft firmly into the dirt. "You will fight me. And to make sure you actually put some effort into it instead of throwing the match just to go back to sleep... let's raise the stakes."
You peeked through your fingers, instantly regretting it. The look on his face promised nothing but trouble. "I don't like the sound of that."
"The winner gets a free pass," Lohen declared, a wicked, mischievous glint in his eyes. "A free pass to sprinkle salt into the wounds of the loser."
Your jaw dropped slightly. "Are you insane? Literally? Like, agonizing salt-in-the-actual-cuts salt? Or the metaphorical, ego-crushing kind?" You knew Lohen had a penchant for crazy nonsense, but being pulled right into it was a whole different can of worms.
"Whichever one hurts more in the moment," he replied smoothly.
An intense wave of reluctance washed over you. The thought of exerting yourself right now made your bones ache, and the thought of Lohen holding a literal or metaphorical shaker of salt over your head for the next week was deeply unappealing. But as you stared at his smug, unyielding expression, a grim realization set in.
If you refused, he wouldn't just walk away for sure. He would escalate, for Archon's sake. He'd probably drag you back by your boots, or camp out outside your window, or think of a penalty tenfold worse than a little salt. The only way out of a Lohen-induced headache was straight through it.
With a heavy, dramatic sigh that carried all the misery of a condemned soul, you uncrossed your arms and planted your hands on the grass to push yourself up.
"You are a walking migraine," you muttered, pushing yourself to your feet and brushing the stray blades of grass from your clothes. Your posture finally shifted from lazy lounging to a sharp readiness. Perhaps it would do him well to be kicked into the dirt for once. A dangerous little spark lit up in your own eyes as you leveled a glare at him. "But fine. If you're that eager to lose your tie-breaker..."
With a sharp exhale, you reached out your hand. Your Vision flared to life at your belt, and in a brisk flash of light, your weapon materialized into your grip.
The massive blade was a terrifying piece of craftsmanship, and despite its immense weight, you caught it effortlessly. You twirled the heavy weapon, letting it cut through the air with a low, menacing whoosh-whoosh that caused the grass beneath your feet to flatten. Your handling of your weapon was absolutely flawless, always had been, a smooth display of strength that contrasted beautifully with your earlier laziness. Poke the bear and feel its wrath, or whatever.
The moment you settled your grip firmly onto the handle, your eyes locked onto Lohen. You knew better than to let your own skill make you arrogant in the face of an opponent. Especially now. Lohen was a wolf in human skin on the battlefield. He was unpredictable, blindingly fast, and an opponent you should absolutely never underestimate.
"Nice toy you got there," Lohen remarked, his smile sharpening as he watched your little display. He didn't look intimidated in the slightest; if anything, the sight of your weapon only made his grip on his polearm tighten with thrill and anticipation.
"Save the flattery for after you're eating dirt," you retorted, your tone now holding the cold focus of a seasoned combatant.
The stage was set, and granted, the stakes were entirely ridiculous, but neither of you had any intention of losing.
You didn't wait for him to open the attack. With a nearly explosive burst of speed, you lunged forward, your heavy blade slicing a lethal arc through the air, aiming for Lohen's shoulder.
It was no secret within the Knights of Favonius, that your style in battle was a masterclass in textbook precision and proper honor on the battlefield. It was a beautiful, admirable way to wield a weapon.
Unfortunately against Lohen, it was your greatest flaw.
Lohen didn’t care about honor, textbook forms, or fighting fair. If anything, he was beyond underhanded. As your weapon came crashing down in a strike that would have cleaved a lesser opponent in two, Lohen didn’t parry. Instead, he kicked up a blinding spray of loose dirt and gravel straight into your face.
You hissed, your eyes stinging as you instinctively blinked. In that split second of blurred vision, Lohen was already gone from your front. He slipped into your blind spot, utilizing the shaft of his polearm not to strike, but to violently hook behind your ankle.
With a sharp yank, he threw you off balance. You tried to recover, swinging your blade backward to force him away, but Lohen was already shifting weights. He used the momentum of your own heavy weapon against you, stepping on the flat of your blade as it passed and pinning it to the ground, before slamming the blunt butt of his polearm hard into your midsection.
The breath knocked out of you and you stumbled back, hitting the grass hard. Before you could even attempt to push yourself up, the cold, sharp tip of Lohen’s blade was resting right against your throat.
Silence fell over the plain, save for your heavy breathing.
"Yield," Lohen said, his voice devoid of the winded exhaustion you were currently feeling.
You let your head fall back onto the grass, your Vision dimming as your weapon dissolved into particles of light. "I yield," you choked out, your voice dripping with chagrin.
As the adrenaline began to fade, a cold dread pooled in your stomach. The salt. You had actually lost the tie-breaker, and now you were entirely at his mercy. Lohen was going to make your life an absolute living hell, and you had willingly walked right into it.
Lohen retracted his polearm, spinning it once before letting it vanish. He stood over you, looking down with a sharp, almost taunting smirk playing on his lips. He didn't offer you a hand up. Instead, he crossed his arms and let out a venomous, little snicker.
"Wow. I'm almost disappointed," Lohen taunted, his tone biting. "Are you really this incompetent? Or do you just choose to ignore basic survival instincts? You saw me shifting my weight, and you still swung like a blind Hilichurl. It's like you wanted to eat dirt."
The insult stung worse than the dirt in your eyes. Your cheeks flushed a furious crimson. Immediately, you bolted upright, glaring at him with pure rage as you scrambled to your feet.
"I fight with dignity, you absolute cheat!" you snapped, your voice rising in anger. "You kicked dirt in my eyes! Who does that in a proper spar?! That wasn't a test of strength, Lohen, that was just you being a miserable, underhanded rat! If you actually fought like a real Knight instead of a street thug, I would have taken your head off!"
Lohen’s smirk softened a little, shifting into something slightly different. But it was something worse. His expression became insufferably patronizing. He took a step closer, raising his hands in a faux-conciliatory gesture, tilting his head with an expression of fake sympathy.
"Oh, come on, don't get your feelings hurt," Lohen said, his voice dropping into a soothing, yet utterly condescending purr. He reached out, lightly patting your head as if comforting a crying child. "Hey, look at me. You did your best. Really, you did. It's not your fault you're burdened by all those silly little rules in that pretty head of yours."
You promptly swatted his hand away, but Lohen just chuckled, continuing his mock-consolation.
"I'm just trying to help you realize your mistakes, darling. If you weren't so stubborn about your 'honor,' you wouldn't be standing here with dirt on your face, would you?" He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "It's tragic, really. You have all that raw power, but you simply won't use it properly. But hey, don't worry. I'll be sure to remind you of it every single day. Starting with that salt I mentioned..."
Long after the sun had started dipping lower into the horizon, it casted long, orange shadows across the floor of Lohen’s private quarters. The room smelled faintly of old parchment and anticeptic.
Lohen sat at his heavy wooden desk, leaning back in his chair with his legs slightly spread. You were positioned right between his thighs. He had his chin resting comfortably on your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck, while a mild, though thoroughly amused grin played on his lips.
"Hold still," he murmured.
With agonizing slowness, Lohen pressed a pinch of salt into one of your cuts with his thumb. You flinched, the small, white crystals stinging instantly as they hit the third shallow cut he had uncovered from your scuffle. It was a sharp, biting hiss of a sensation, but Lohen wasn't done. Before you could even pull away, his fingers wrapped a layer of clean gauze tightly over the wound, trapping the fiery burn right beneath the cloth.
He was enjoying this greatly, taking his sweet time with every wrap. You, on the other hand, were a ball of pure, anxious tension. You stared straight ahead, your jaw clenched so hard it already ached, while your leg bopped up and down rapidly against the floor.
As he snipped the end of the bandage and tucked it in, you let out a ragged breath. You leaned forward slightly, holding your wrapped arm against your chest.
"Lohen, please," you muttered, your voice strained and entirely stripped of its usual sharp edge. "Just stop. You won, I get it. The score is settled."
Lohen didn't move his chin from your shoulder. He simply let out a low, calm hum that vibrated against your shoulder and collarbone. "Now, now. We agreed on the stakes. And a deal's a deal." His hands slid down your forearm on the other side, his grip firm but unhurried as he rotated it slightly to inspect the inner skin near your elbow. "Look at that. There's still one more left."
You squeezed your eyes shut. "Lohen, seriously-"
Before you could finish the protest, he dipped three fingers back into the small bowl of salt and let it rain down on your cut.
This last cut was deeper than the others, a slightly uneven slice from when you had hit the dirt, and the moment the salt hit the raw tissue, a blinding, white-hot spike of agony shot straight up your arm. The sheer, unexpected intensity of the burn caught you off guard. A sharp gasp hitched in your throat, and despite your absolute best efforts to remain stoic, the intense sting forced involuntary tears straight into your eyes, blurring your vision.
You froze, your fingers curling into fists as you tried not to let out a whimper from the ridiculous, self-inflicted torture.
Seeing the wetness gather in the corner of your eye, Lohen finally relented. The smug, teasing grin softened just a fraction, replaced by a certain satisfaction. He wrapped the final bandage, securing it tightly to dull the throbbing ache, before pushing the bowl of salt away on the desk with a soft clink.
"There. All done," he said softly.
You let out a shaky breath, keeping your head turned away so he wouldn't see the tears tracking down your cheeks. But Lohen wasn't finished.
With a surprisingly gentle movement, he reached down and took your bandaged hand in his. He lifted your arm, bringing your knuckles up to his lips. He kept his eyes locked on your profile and planted a soft, lingering, and undeniably loving kiss against the back of your hand, right over the skin he had just spent the last twenty minutes tormenting.
"You did well, bunny," he murmured against your skin, his tone a strange, intoxicating combination of genuine affection and lingering victory. "Next time, remember to watch your flanks though."
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