#albedo x reader

[romopiod]

TOGETHER?!

SYNOPSIS. Someone assumes the two of you are together, when you’re not (yet), how does he react?

FEATURING. Albedo, Ayato, Childe, Kaeya, Lohen, Thoma, Venti

WORD COUNT. 5.7k total (i got carried away, please stick around)

NOTES. Just fluff through and through. I wanted to write for so many more characters!! Do let me know who else you would like to see :))

Fem!reader !! she/her pronouns are used.

Part 1 (you're here!), Part 2

ALBEDO

You spend a lot of time in Albedo's lab. You're not entirely sure when it started becoming routine, but somewhere between him seeking your presence and you deciding to stay longer than necessary, it just... happened. You'd sit in the corner with a book or just watch him work, the way he moves through his experiments with methodical precision. 

Today, though, you're in the Favonius library instead. Albedo needed to research something specific, and you went along with him without question. You're sitting at one of the tables while he browses the shelves, pulling down various tomes with focused precision.

Lisa is at the front desk when Albedo brings his stack of books to check them out. You're waiting nearby, and she glances between the two of you with that knowing smile of hers.

"My, my, someone's been spending a lot of time with our dear Chief Alchemist," she says to you, her voice sweet as honey. She's already flipping through the first book. "Taking quite the interest in his work, are we?"

"Just curious," you say, suddenly very aware of how close Albedo is standing.

"Mm, how thoughtful of you." She continues scanning, her eyes flickering up to Albedo for just a moment. "Your lover must appreciate having someone so interested in what he does."

She says it so casually, so mixed in with the mundane task of checking out books, that it takes a moment for the words to actually register. By the time they do, she's already moving on to the next book, completely unbothered.

Albedo pauses. You notice it immediately—his hand stills on the counter, and there's a moment where he seems to be processing something. His gaze drifts to the side, not quite looking at Lisa, not quite looking at you. He's just... considering. Turning the words over in his mind the way he does with everything else. 

Then, just as quietly as the pause came, he seems to release it. He doesn't correct her. Doesn't say anything at all. Just sets down the remaining books on the counter in that careful way of his.

“Oh, uhm,” You begin, looking over at Albedo. “We, uh, aren’t together.”

Lisa glances up, catches something in his expression, and her smile widens slightly. But she says nothing more.

Later, when you're back at the library and Albedo is focused on his research, you find yourself thinking about what Lisa said.

"Do you think I'm a distraction?" you ask casually, not looking up from your book.

Albedo doesn't pause in his work. "No." The answer is immediate. Certain. You turn a page.

"Lisa thinks we're together," you say.

He sets down the vial he held with careful precision. Turns to look at you fully, and for a long moment, he doesn't say anything. His soft, analytical gaze is fixed on you, and the silence stretches out—long enough that you start to feel uncomfortable, long enough that you begin to wonder if you've said something wrong.

And then, as though he had reached a conclusion so simple and obvious, "Would that be so strange?"

You realise you don't have an answer for that. And more importantly, that perhaps, no, it would not be so strange after all. 

AYATO

The Kamisato clan commissioner rarely ventured into the markets. Usually, he would have sent either Thoma or one of his other myriad helpers to fetch whatever it was he or Ayaka needed. But, today, perhaps as a change of environment—away from the towering paperwork he had to fill—Ayato decided to accompany you in your shopping. He always had a peculiar habit of trailing behind you, even when it was unnecessary. You had gotten used to his presence in your life. A shadow. An extremely coy and teasing shadow, that is. 

Besides, perhaps the presence of the commissioner would snag you a couple of good deals while out and about. 

You curled a bolt of silk green fabric around your wrist. Pretty, smooth. Ayato peeked over your shoulder, scrutinising the item in so much more detail than you were at all. 

You turned back to look at him and huffed, a sound of amusement, “What, is it not to your liking, Ayato?”

“Well,” he seemed to draw out, catching your eyes. “I hardly think it’s your shade.”

Not your shade? Just as a retort bubbled up in your throat, you were interrupted by the sound of the vendor. “Ah, commissioner!” He said. “Interested in imported silks, are you?”

The man seemed to be pulling out more cloth, shades of different colours—silver, lavender, pink, blue. His hands moved with practiced efficiency as he laid out the fabrics over the counter. He seemed to be going on and on about where each piece was imported from—this one from Liyue, the other a local craftsman from Inazuma, the other cultivated in the meadows of Mondstadt. 

But then he picked out a specific piece and looked over to Ayato. “I’m sure your lover would look stunning in the deeper blues,” he said. “Does the lady have a preference, or should we let the commissioner decide?”

You tensed. 

Lover? And the man had said it so casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. You felt your cheeks warm and suddenly you seemed to become all too aware of the little distance between you and Ayato. As though hypersensory, you could feel the way Ayato’s hands stilled, resting for a moment at your hip. You looked over at him. 

And yet, there was no change in his expression. If anything, the small smile he had on his face had stretched a fractional amount. His head tilted to the side. 

“I think she would look rather beautiful,” Ayato said. Simple and casual, his eyes snagging on you for half a second. It was like he hadn’t even heard the former part of the sentence. Or, scratch that, like he hadn’t heard anything the vendor had just said. 

The vendor was simply ecstatic to have sold something to the commissioner, and—apparently—his “lover,” and had left to wrap the item. 

You paused for a second, before turning to the man next to you. “What was that?” 

Ayato hummed non-commitally as he looked at you. “What was what?” He feigned ignorance, that smug idiot. He never missed a single thing. Once you had changed the scent of your perfume from Sakura Bloom to Naku Weed, and he had caught it the moment you stepped into his office; there was no way he hadn’t heard that. 

“He just called me your lover!” You pressed. 

Ayato just tilted his head, his fingers tapping against the wooden counter. “Yes.”

“And you didn’t correct him.”

“No.”

The heat in your face seemed to rise in temperature. Just what exactly was he playing at? Why was he staring at you like this was the most normal thing ever? Was he not bothered? And the way the merchant had said it, too, it was like everyone in the entirety of Inazuma knew about this except for you!

“Why not?” You asked, growing more shifty by the second. 

Ayato let out a laugh, a sweet, melodic little sound, “You didn't seem eager to correct him yourself.”

You opened your mouth to argue, and then closed it again. “W-Well, I was just about—but then, I…” Any and all justification that rose in your throat withered away. Especially when Ayato was staring at you like that. Like he was challenging you to question that assumption, daring you to change it. 

That day, the two of you walked away having bought an expensive indigo fabric. Matching the Kamisato insignia.

CHILDE

The training grounds were empty except for the two of you. You'd been sparring with Childe for the better part of an hour, and he was still grinning like he was having the time of his life—which, knowing him, he probably was.

"Your footwork's off," he called out, circling you with that predatory grace he had when he was actually engaged. "You're telegraphing your next move."

"Maybe I want you to know what I'm doing," you shot back, lunging. He sidestepped easily, but you'd anticipated that, spinning to catch him off-guard with a follow-up strike. He blocked it, and the impact sent a jolt up your arm. "Or maybe you're just slow today."

"Slow?" He laughed, and there was an edge to it now—the kind that meant he'd stopped holding back. He came at you with a series of quick strikes, testing your reflexes, and you matched him, parry for parry. 

Your muscles were already burning from the previous rounds, but you pushed anyway because he'd give you that look of approval when you did, that slight nod like you'd passed some invisible test. "You're the one who's slowing down. Your last five moves have been predictable."

"Only because you're boring me," you said, breathing harder now. You twisted away from his next strike, used his momentum against him, and nearly got him off-balance. Nearly. He recovered with infuriating ease, but you caught the flash of something in his expression—genuine interest now, not just amusement.

The sparring continued, and at one point, you overextended on a strike. His hand came out to steady you, gripping your arm just above the elbow. It was meant to be instructional—a correction of your form—but he held it for a moment, his thumb brushing against your skin before he released you. Neither of you acknowledged it. He just stepped back and said, "Again. Better this time."

You came at him again, and somewhere in the middle of it, there was a moment where he caught your wrist mid-strike. His hand was warm, his grip firm but not painful. He could have thrown you. Instead, he held it for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, and you were close enough to see the slight raise in his eyebrow—a challenge. You twisted your arm, trying to break free, and he let you go with a grin.

"Getting better," he said.

"I've always been good. You're just finally noticing," you replied, and charged at him again.

By the time you both called it, you were both breathing hard. Sweat dripped down your temple, and your arms felt like lead. Childe was still smiling though, that infuriating, easy smile of his that suggested he could do this all day. He grabbed his water bottle, tossed you one, and you caught it easily. The cold water was a relief as you drank, trying to catch your breath.

You were leaning against the nearby pillar, still catching your breath, when you heard voices approaching. Not close yet, but getting closer. You recognized one of them immediately—Paimon's high-pitched chatter, and underneath it, Lumine's quieter responses. You didn't think much of it. They were probably just passing through the training grounds on their way somewhere else.

Childe was standing a few feet away from you, already looking refreshed despite the exertion. He had that energy about him, the kind that didn't seem to deplete no matter how hard he pushed himself. He caught you looking at him and raised an eyebrow.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" he asked, already moving toward you.

"Just wondering how you're not completely dead," you said. "Normal people need recovery time."

"I'm not normal people." He stopped beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. Without any real thought to it, he reached over and fixed a strand of your hair that had come loose during the sparring, tucking it back behind your ear. It was such a casual gesture, the kind of thing he did without thinking. Your breath caught slightly, but he was already pulling his hand back, already grinning at you like he hadn't just done something that made your heart rate pick up for reasons that had nothing to do with the exercise.

"Definitely not normal," you muttered, looking away.

"Hey, Childe! Lumine and I were just—oh!"

You looked up to see Paimon floating toward you both, her expression shifting to something almost knowing as she took in the sight of you two standing close together, both flushed and breathing hard. Lumine followed behind her, her eyes flickering between you and Childe with that quiet observation of hers.

"We were just heading to the Adventurers' Guild," Paimon continued, but there was a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "But wow, looks like you two have been going at it pretty hard. I'm just glad Childe's finally found his special someone! But sheesh, do you have to go that hard on her?"

There was a beat. You opened your mouth to correct her, to clarify whatever assumption she'd just made, but Childe moved first. His arm came around you without hesitation, pulling you against his side in one smooth motion. It was the kind of casual contact you two shared all the time, except it wasn't casual now. Not the way he was looking at Paimon, not the way his hand rested at your hip like it belonged there.

"Yeah, well," he said, his voice easy and warm, "took me long enough to find someone worth the effort."

Lumine's lips curved into the faintest smile. "That's one way to put it," she said, and there was definitely something knowing in her tone.

You felt your face flush. You pushed against his chest, your hand flat against the fabric of his shirt.

"You're insane," you said, but you were already laughing despite yourself, despite the way your heart was doing backflips.

Paimon giggled, seeming satisfied with whatever she thought she'd figured out, and Lumine gave you both a small wave before they continued on their way. You watched them go, still half-pressed against Childe's side, and the moment they were out of earshot, you pushed away from him properly.

"You want to enlighten me on what you were implying there?" you asked, turning to face him.

Childe's grin was still there, but something underneath it had shifted. He wasn't quite looking at you directly, was instead focused on something past your shoulder, his expression caught between amusement and something you couldn't quite read.

"Was I implying something?" he said, but there was no real teasing in it now.

"You just told them we're together."

He finally looked at you then, and his expression was softer than you'd expected. Still smiling, but there was something real behind it—something that made your stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with the sparring.

"And?" he said softly. "I wasn't lying though, was I?"

KAEYA

You'd been coming to the tavern with Kaeya for weeks now. It started innocuously enough—he'd asked if you wanted a drink after a particularly grueling shift, and you'd said yes mostly because you were too tired to say no. Somewhere along the way, it became routine. Every few nights you'd find yourself at the counter with him, and he'd order for you without asking. He always got it right, which was irritating in its own way.

Tonight was like any other night. You were sitting at your usual spot, the one that had somehow become your spot, when someone approached. One of the regulars—a member of the Adventurer’s Guild—someone you'd seen around enough times to recognize but not enough to know by name.

"Kaeya," the man slurred, leaning against the bar. "Your girlfriend's looking particularly radiant tonight."

You felt your spine stiffen slightly. Girlfriend. The word hung there for a moment, waiting to be corrected. 

You looked over at Kaeya, waiting for him to say something, to clarify, to do whatever it was he normally did when people made assumptions. But he just smiled. That easy, lazy smile of his. 

"Isn't she always?" he said, and the man laughed like it was the most charming thing he'd ever heard, and walked away.

You stared at your drink. The ice was melting slowly, diluting the amber liquid into something weaker.

"You could've corrected him," you said, looking over at him with barely concealed flustered confusion.

"Could have," Kaeya agreed. He wasn't looking at you, was instead focused on something across the bar with that detached amusement he wore like a second skin. "Didn't seem worth the effort."

You let it go. It was small enough, harmless enough. Kaeya was always like this—playing into characters, scenarios, whatever amused him in the moment. And besides, this was the tavern. People were drunk, made assumptions, barely thought twice about anything. Everything Kaeya said carried that thin veneer of humor, that deliberate lightness that suggested nothing he did was ever meant to be taken seriously. This must have been yet another attempt at his particular brand of entertainment, or maybe an effort to fluster you. Which you weren't falling for. Obviously.

But a few days later, he suggested dinner at Good Hunter's. You'd gone, mostly because you were hungry and he was there. Sara smiled when she saw you two sit down underneath the parasol. 

“Maybe the both of you would like a seat that’s more private instead?” She had suggested. Your face erupted into flames when she suggested that. And although you tried to correct it, Kaeya had already confirmed, and you found yourself in a shaded area to the side. The kind of area that everyone implicitly agreed was for honeymooning couples. 

You sat across from him, irritated, and tried to focus on your food. Kaeya, for his part, seemed entirely unbothered. He ate with deliberate slowness, and at one point he leaned across the table, his eye catching yours with a particular brand of teasing softness.

"You're scowling," he said, like it was an observation about the weather.

"I'm not scowling."

"You are." He reached over and tapped your forehead with one finger. "Right here."

You pulled back, but he'd already retreated, that infuriating smile still in place.

By the time you were walking back through the city, your irritation had crystallized into something sharper. Something that demanded to be addressed.

"What are you doing?" you asked, stopping abruptly in the middle of the street.

"Walking," Kaeya said simply. "Same as you."

"Don't be difficult. Everyone keeps thinking we're together and you're not correcting them. You're actually—" you gestured vaguely at the space between you, "—playing into it."

He was quiet for a moment. Then he laughed, that low, warm sound that always seemed to come from somewhere deeper than his chest. When he looked at you, there was something in his expression you couldn't quite place. Something that felt almost like he'd been waiting for you to notice.

"I think you like it more than you're willing to admit," he said softly. His eye was half-lidded, that familiar amusement still there, but underneath it was something else. Something that made your chest feel tight.  "The question is whether I should keep pretending not to notice."

He was already walking ahead, already moving past you with that lazy stride of his, and you were left standing there, flushed and furious and unable to quite articulate why his assumption felt less like teasing and more like he'd read something in you that you weren't ready to show him.

Damn Kaeya.

LOHEN

The training grounds were filled with apprentice knights, all watching intently as you explained the formation they'd be running through. Lohen stood beside you, arms crossed, and you could already feel the restlessness radiating off him like heat.

"This is boring," he said, not bothering to lower his voice. "Just let them fight something real."

"They need to understand positioning first," you replied firmly, not even looking at him. "We're not sending them into the field unprepared."

"Unprepared is half the fun," he said, and you heard the grin in his voice.

You turned to face him. "You know what? Not everyone gets a thrill from almost dying."

"Their loss," he said, and there was something playful in his eyes, something that suggested he enjoyed getting a rise out of you. One of the younger apprentices nudged their friend, both of them watching the exchange with barely concealed amusement.

"This is why we have strategy," you continued, turning back to the group. "Lohen charges in and—"

"And it works," he interjected.

"And you get lucky," you corrected.

He laughed, "Lucky. Right. That's what we're calling it."

The training started smoothly enough. The apprentices moved through the formations you'd drilled into them, and you were positioned to observe and correct. Lohen was supposed to be doing the same, but his attention kept drifting, his foot tapping with barely contained energy. You could see him watching the apprentices with the kind of hunger that meant he was already bored. At one point, you caught him staring at you instead of the recruits, and when you raised an eyebrow in question, he just grinned wider.

After about an hour, one of the younger recruits approached as you and Lohen were standing together reviewing the performance. The recruit was still catching their breath, clearly impressed by how well the formation had held.

"It's lucky that the two of you are paired together," they said, glancing between you both. There was genuine respect in their voice. "Aren't the two of you together?"

The moment those words left the apprentice’s mouth, you could see something wicked shine in Lohen’s eyes. You opened your mouth to clarify, but Lohen moved before you could. He crossed the distance between you in a few strides and pulled you against his side, his arm wrapping around your waist like it had always belonged there. Your face went hot immediately, but he was looking at you with that chaotic grin of his, like he'd just been handed the best entertainment of his day.

"And she's the only person who could ever keep up with me," he said, loud and theatrical, and you could tell he was leaning into it now, performing for the apprentices. You felt your cheeks burn as you realized what he was doing, deliberately making a show of it, spinning this into something bigger just to see you get flustered. The manic energy was at full throttle, and he was clearly enjoying every second of your embarrassment.

Your face went hotter. One of the apprentices bit their lip to keep from smiling, while another looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the display. But most of them were watching with interest, waiting to see what would happen next.

"Lohen—" you started, trying to extract yourself, but he didn't let go. His grip on your waist was firm, not painful, just insistent.

"And she's brilliant," he continued, spinning you slightly so he could look at you properly. His hand was still on your back, and he was looking at you with an intensity that made your breath catch. "Everything I'm not. Everything that keeps me from getting killed in a ditch somewhere." There was something underneath the chaos when he said it, something that suggested he meant it more than he was letting on.  A few of the recruits exchanged glances, and one of them smiled knowingly.

"You'd be lost without her," one of the bolder apprentices called out, earning a few quiet laughs from the others.

"Completely lost," Lohen agreed, but there was something in the way he said it that wasn't entirely joking. For just a moment, the manic energy seemed to settle, and he looked at you like you were the only thing in the training grounds that mattered. "Actually, yeah. I would be."

Then he released you, and the chaos returned. He was already moving away, already tossing some comments to the apprentices about formation angles, leaving you standing there flustered and hyperaware of every eye on you.

The rest of the training passed in a blur of corrections and positioning. By the time you finally dismissed the apprentices, your face had only just stopped burning. Lohen was already collecting his things, and you found yourself watching him move with that restless energy of his, wondering what he'd actually meant in that moment when everything had seemed to pause.

THOMA

You were sitting in one of the Kamisato estate's quieter rooms, mending a tear in one of the ceremonial clothes when Thoma appeared with tea. He set it down beside you without asking and settled into the seat across from you.

"That's going to take forever," he said, watching you work the needle through the delicate fabric.

"Only if I rush," you replied, concentrating on your stitching. "You taught me that."

He smiled at that, leaning back and watching you work. It was comfortable, the kind of silence that didn't need filling. You'd been coming to this room more often lately, always finding some reason to be here. Mending. Reading. Just sitting. And somehow Thoma always seemed to find his way in.

After a while, he got up and moved to sit beside you instead. He didn't ask permission. He just shifted closer until his shoulder nearly touched yours. He picked up a different piece that needed mending and started working on it without preamble.

"You're still doing that stitch wrong," he said after a while, no judgment in his voice.

"I know," you said, not bothering to correct yourself. "But you always fix it for me anyway."

He smiled, and you swore you could see the pupils of his green eyes dilate a fractional amount. His hand came over yours, guiding the needle through the proper motion. His fingers were warm, and he moved slowly, making sure you understood. When he pulled back, you found yourself missing the contact.

You worked like that for a long time. Sometimes he'd hum something soft under his breath. Sometimes you'd ask him about his day, and he'd answer while still focused on the mending. At one point, you reached for more thread at the same moment he did, and your hands brushed. Neither of you moved away.  You both just continued working, shoulders close, existing together in the quiet of the afternoon.

"You're thinking too hard," he said once, glancing at your face.

"How can you tell?"

"You get this little crease," he said, reaching over and smoothing it away with his thumb. It was such a gentle gesture that you forgot to breathe for a moment.

You were so focused on the mending that you didn't notice when Ayaka appeared in the doorway. She had a few attendants with her, but she stopped when she saw the two of you sitting close together, heads bent over the work, your shoulders nearly touching.

"Oh, there you two are," she said warmly. "I've been meaning to mention something." Thoma looked up, and you followed his gaze.

"There's a couples' festival coming up at the end of the month," Ayaka continued, her tone genuinely kind. 

"I thought perhaps you two might enjoy attending together. It would be nice for you to have some time away from the estate."

You felt your face warm. Thoma's reaction was immediate. His entire face flushed a deep red, from his neck all the way to his ears. He set down the cloth quickly, maybe too quickly, like he needed something to do with his hands.

"Oh, we're—" he started, his voice slightly strained. He cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, he was trying for his usual politeness, but the fluster was unmistakable. "We're not actually together, Lady Ayaka. We just spend a lot of time together because of work, that's all."

The correction was gentle, the way everything Thoma did was gentle. But there was something in the way his hands gripped the cloth a little too tightly, the way he wouldn't quite meet Ayaka's eyes, that made your chest tighten. One of the attendants looked faintly disappointed.

Ayaka's expression softened with understanding, and she nodded. "I see. My apologies for the misunderstanding." She excused herself politely, and the moment she left, the room felt smaller somehow.

You picked up your mending again, but your hands felt clumsy. Thoma did the same, but neither of you were really focused on the work anymore. The ease you'd had before was gone, replaced by something tense and uncertain. The afternoon light filtered through the screens, and the silence stretched between you, heavy with things unsaid.

When the sun started to set and you finally set down your work, Thoma was already moving. You said something soft to break the tension, just to ease it.

"That was kind of awkward," you said quietly, not quite looking at him.

He paused, his hand lingering on the cloth. You could see him turn it over in his mind, searching for something.

"I didn't mean to be rude," he said, finally meeting your eyes. "She was just... it caught me off guard."

"I know," you said, offering him a small smile. "It's fine. These things happen."

He looked at you for a long moment, and there was something in his expression that made your breath catch. Something that looked like regret, like he was reconsidering something he'd just said.

"Actually," he said, and his voice was steadier now, "about that festival."

You looked at him, waiting.

"It might not be a bad idea," he continued, and there was a careful consideration to his words, like he was choosing each one deliberately. "For us to attend together, I mean. Not because anyone thinks we should. But because..." He paused, searching for the right words. "Because I'd like to spend that evening with you. If you'd want to."

Your breath caught slightly. There was nothing casual about the way he said it, despite how carefully he was choosing his words. There was intention there, and something that looked a lot like hope.

"Yeah," you said softly. "I'd like that."

VENTI

Venti had dragged you out to yet another performance. You weren't sure why he felt the need to do this—invite you specifically, stand you in a particular spot in the crowd where he could see you, like your presence mattered to the mechanics of him playing. But he'd shown up at your door this morning with his elfish smile and asked if you were busy. A pointless question, really. He would have begged and whined until you relented had you said no. 

On the way to the fountain, he'd been insufferable. He kept humming fragments of melodies, stopping abruptly to ask your opinion on them, then laughing at your answers like you'd said something hilarious when you were just trying to be helpful. At one point he'd grabbed your wrist and spun you around on the street for no reason, just to see your expression, probably.

"You're going to make me dizzy," you laugh, pulling your hand back.

"Is that a complaint, windblume?" he asked, and there was something in his tone that suggested he already knew the answer.

"Yes," you lied.

He had just smiled like he could see right through you.

Now, standing near the fountain while he set up, you watched him adjust his lyre with great care; the kind of care reserved for especially special things in one’s life. Which, for Venti, was music and—you were noticing more and more—you. 

He kept glancing over at you, making sure you were in the right spot, making sure you could see him properly. You found it funny, it was almost like a nervous tick. A flick of his gaze to you every few seconds to make especially sure that you had your eyes on him. It was unnecessary. Of course you could see him. You were always looking at him anyway.

Another bard approached as Venti was finishing his setup—someone you recognized vaguely from around the city. They exchanged greetings, the kind of easy familiarity that suggested they knew each other from the musician's circles. You turned your attention back to the fountain, not really listening until the other bard said something that made you tune back in.

"Your recent stuff has been different," he was saying to Venti. "All of it sounds like it's about the same person."

You felt something shift in your chest. His recent stuff? You hadn't really paid that much attention, if you were being honest. But now that it was being pointed out, you found yourself wondering if that was true. 

You'd been hearing him play new things lately, pieces you hadn't heard before, and now you were suddenly wondering who they were about.

The bard glanced over at you, then back at Venti, and you watched something click into place behind his expression.

"That your muse?" he asked, gesturing vaguely in your direction.

Venti laughed. It was the kind of laugh that made people turn their heads, that seemed to move through the air like something physical. He spun—actually spun, his coat catching the light—and when he looked at you, there was something deliberate in the movement.

"The best one I've ever had," he said, and he was looking directly at you when he said it.

Your face went hot. The other bard laughed too, charmed, and the conversation continued between them, but you weren't really listening anymore. You were stuck on that phrase, on the way Venti had said it, on the realization that apparently his recent compositions had been about you and you'd been too oblivious to notice.

An hour later, after the performance was over and you'd managed to slip away, you found yourself at the tavern. You were nursing a drink when Venti sat down beside you. He waved a hand to the bartender, and Charles just sighed—a routine. And then Venti’s gaze was fixed on you.

"You've been thinking about what I said," he observes.

"I haven't," you say, which is a lie and you both know it.

"Mm." He's amused. You can hear it in his voice. "That's exactly why you’ve been zoning out since my  performance?” He had that teasing lilt in his voice. You wanted to puncture his voice box. 

"You can't just say something like that and expect me not to—" you start, then stop because you're not actually sure what you're going to say. Expect you not to what? Wonder if he meant it? Wonder what it means? Wonder if you're reading too much into it?

"Not to what?" Venti prompts, and there's that tilt of his head again, that soft amusement in his expression.

"You know what," you snap, trying not to sound flustered. 

Venti, all he does is laugh. You really want to puncture his voice box. 

thanks so much for reading!!

Dividers by: @cafekitsune

[yurunivo]

Ass, tits or thighs? (Ft nod krai cast) (Typical warnings of NSFW, fem!reader, mentions of a lactation kink in Albedo's, possible OOC for all of them. Fight me all you want in the comments if you want. English is not my first language)

(this plot is so overused. Does that mean I care? No, I'll do whatever I want so just enjoy my analysis or whatever)

Varka: Ass

He'd be super embarrassed about this question and probably blurt out "personality" or something like that. A knight shouldn't be so improper with his lover! But sometimes you see him staring a little too long on your behind for it to be a "friendly" look when you bend over to pick something up. If he's ever holding you close to him, his hands are always on the hips or waist, just close enough to your ass but never doing anything until you ask. Basically cock blocking himself lmao

Flins: Thighs

Also the type to say "personality" but more of an endearing way than anything else. Probably be like "you are so enchanting, how could I pick just one?" So he says personality instead. Though, he's never one to complain if he gets a nice shot of your thighs, doesn't care if they're small or big. He seems like the type of guy to enjoy giving oral, so having your thighs around his head is probably a fantasy of his.

Nefer: tits

Not ashamed of her answer, and it was quite obvious. She doesn't care about your body type either. If you're flat, she likes pinching and playing with your nipples from underneath your shirt, perhaps dragging her fingers along your areola. If you're well endowed she prefers to squish your tits between her fingers to relieve stress. One thing's for certain, with those claws on her fingers your skin will hurt and look red. Good thing she has her mouth to help.

Lauma: tits

Unlike Nefer, she prefers to admire your body from afar more than anything, and she is most importantly not crude. She likes laying her head on your chest regardless if your tits are big or not. If you're ever sore she likes massaging them within her fingers, but she'll never go past your boundaries. Though, if you ask her to take a step further she wouldn't mind, after all she does have a few fantasies and needs of her own.

Nicole: thighs

If you ever asked her this question, she'd at first go on a tangent about how human evolution evolved and why we find such body parts appealing despite them being storehouses of fat for the most part. If you ask her to give a straight answer she'd say thighs. She likes it when you wear shorts, maybe when you sit down and they seem to look bigger. Regardless of their size she likes to lay her head down there and stare up at you whilst yapping about another topic. If she feels cheeky she might bite.

Alice: ass

Practically has an obsession with slapping your ass, with how red it gets from her fondling sometimes. Especially likes it if you wear a tight dress or shorts, she just loveees admiring your figure. She may be busy but that won't exactly stop her from meeting you often enough to eye-fuck you. If you have a tattoo on your lower back best believe she's kissing that senseless. Other than that, she prefers to bend you over with her strap and take you from behind.

Arlecchino: thighs

You're often the one straddling her waist while she does her paperwork, and her hands always find themselves digging into your thighs. She'll stop if it hurts, but gods does she love looking at your legs when they're properly marked by her fingers. If she's eating you out expect plenty of teeth marks around your inner thigh. When she's holding you by your waist, she finds her fingers drawing circles on your hip, to outer thigh. Also likes the feeling of control when her hands spread your thighs open.

Columbina: tits

She takes a long time to think about it, especially since she likes all parts of you and never bothered to think about these sexual questions. She eventually says tits because they're the closest to your heart. She spends the time with you mostly listening to your heartbeat, so she finds it fair to prefer your tits. If anything else, you'll sometimes find her either squeezing or pinching your nipples since she's interested on your reactions and how they feel in her palm.

Illuga: tits

He'll freak out at first if you ever ask and refuse to answer. Though, he stares at your chest a lot more than what is necessary. If you have a gap between your tits, he likes fixating on that for whatever reason, especially when he can see that gap from your top. If you don't have a gap, that's fine too because he'll still be staring at how much space your breasts take. If you allow him to touch he'd probably do it once before chickening out. If you offer a titjob he's practically jello in your arms.

Sandrone: no preference

It's either she doesn't care or she cares for all parts of you equally. There's no real problem for her anyway, she takes what's most convenient. If you're cuddling with her her hands will rest on your tits. If you're standing beside her (with no one around) she'll place a hand on her ass. She likes observing how your thighs enlarge when you sit. You can please her with almost anything.

Dottore: different per segment.

Webtorre likes your tits, Omega your ass and prime your thighs. Though, if you attempt to seduce the different versions of him with any one, it will work. Webtorre will be the more eager of the three to grab a hold of your tits. Omega usually just takes whatever chance he gets and places a hand on your ass whenever he gets the opportunity of your bending over. Prime prefers it when you're cockwarming him and your thighs wrap around his waist. He gets hard just from the feeling of your thighs.

Wanderer: no preference

Also another one that doesn't care. If he's carrying you while he's flying, his hand will subtly palm your thighs. Time to time he listens to your heartbeat, so the cushioning on your chest is appreciated. If you don't have any, that's fine too. His hands are (for the most part) on your ass when you're walking together with no one around. He's not overtly dirty too, if you don't like it then he'll immediately stop.

Albedo: tits

I know that for most of the characters you've seen me saying tits but it's more true for him than ever. He feels like the type of guy to have a lactation kink to be honest. Like, he'd research it for normal purposes and be completely normal about it but it will eventually grow on him. If you're ever pregnant with his kid he will suck your tits at least once for a taste. He's very gentle otherwise, compared to a certain Nefer.

[seqretheart]

Genshin men - moments of affection

All Genshin men x gn!reader (alphabetically) / sfw / established relationship -> women version (coming soon)

Aether

He won't acknowledge the way he sinks back into your touch when your fingers thread through the golden strands of hair hanging down his back, nor the way a low rumbling sound of bliss seems to emerge from the back of his throat when you massage a particularly sensitive spot on his head. Simply the feeling of your gentle hands brushing and re-braiding his adventure-knotted hair is a reprieve from his demanding everyday life.

Albedo

Watching you sleep is something he can't seem to stop, eyes wandering to you slouched form, observing the rhythmatic way your chest rises and falls as you dream, draped across his work desk or tucked into his side. He'll smooth a gloved hand across your hair, or drape a blanket around your shoulders to prevent the sub zero temperatures of dragonspine from seeping in. There's just something so peaceful about the way you look that soothes his fabricated heart.

Alhaitham

He'll be lounging on the plush cushions of your sofa after a long day of being the academia's scribe, one arm resting lazily behind his head and the other cradling some academic text or another. You'll slide in beside him, attempting to squeeze yourself in next to his broad form on the narrow sofa and he'll grumble under his breath in feigned complaint - he never really means it - but the shift of a bicep from behind him to tucking you securely into his side tells another story.

Ayato

He often takes a brief respite from his duties to wander the estate grounds, pausing in doorways when he hears the soft tune of your humming as he passes by. You'll be doing something inconsequential he doesn't bother to note, but the sound - no matter how perfect or off key it might be, it matters little to him - just seems to lure him closer. He'll wind his arms around your waist, whispering in your ear with a tone full of both amusement and fondness alike - yet he won't yet mention how the mundanity of such a task feels like a refreshing break from the formality of his everyday life.

Baizhu

Never will he outright admit his condition has worn him down, yet when you see him and the weariness of bearing the weight of Liyue's health on his shoulders, it touches a soft, vulnerable part of his tired heart. He'll gently decline your invitation to help, his duty is something he deigned to shoulder alone - and that is to be his fate - though when you insist on sharing that burden, such a concerned expression on your face well, he just can't say no to you it seems.

Capitano

He's not accustomed to gentleness or softness, so the contrast of your slow, soothing touch against the cold hard steel of his helmet is such a foreign sensation he takes weeks to get used to it. Your soft hands trace the inky black abyss where his face would be with such tenderness it feels like he doesn't deserve this sort of adoration, yet he'll lean down into your touch, bringing one large hand up to dwarf your own, brushing his fingers against your knuckles in what he hopes is a gentle manner.

Childe

He may or may not say - depending on the outcome - that being scolded by you is something of a guilty pleasure, though guilty is probably less of the right word in his case, try obvious. He tries at least a little to school his expression into something neutral when you frown and press the antibacterial cloth a little harder into the cuts littering his skin, telling him off for being so reckless. Despite the reprimanding tone of your voice, he can see the worry flickering across your expression - ok maybe he's a little guilty now.

Cyno

He returns home late most days, well into the early hours of the morning, so the last thing he expects is to see you slumped over the arm of the sofa - clearly where you've slid down from an upright position. He'll slide strong arms under you and slide you back into bed, only joining you after shedding all his heavy gear and the weight of his duties for the night. You'll receive a mild lecture in the morning - why you shouldn't wait up for him when it poorly impacts your own sleep - but when you shyly mention you seem to struggle to sleep without the warmth of his presence next to you, he can't help but soften and let you off the hook, only to find you in the exact same position the next night.

Dahlia

He's easy to please, any time spent in your company is pleasure enough for Dahlia, yet when you drag him to the sofa with two cups of warm sugary tea waiting for you on the coffee table - insisting he regale you with every minute detail of his day (not to mention the gossip he mentioned offhandedly a few days ago) - it's both surprising and heart warming to realise you've noticed and listened to the random things he says. And for that, he'll gladly indulge your curiosity, no matter how mundane.

Diluc

Watching you tiptoe your way back into the bedroom, swathed in one of his silken shirts that practically drowns your form and balancing a cup of coffee in each hand will forever be one of Diluc's favourite sights. You don't even notice he's awake, half propped up on his elbows with that piercing crimson gaze following you as you edge closer. When you do eventually catch him staring and burst out into laughter, passing him his mug as you slip back into the sheets beside him, he'll allow himself to join in, even if a little pink in the cheeks.

Dottore

He'll openly admit that he gets a little thrill when you depend on him for anything. No matter if it's something trivial and you could most likely do it yourself or you genuinely require help from him or a segment (unless you're interrupting important research - that will earn you a look that could put you in your grave and an irritated huff indicating you should 'do something yourself for once'). Though his favourite instance is when you get sick, he can test all manner of new remedies on you to his hearts content, satisfying that mad scientist element in him, but also quietly tend to that tiny part of him that still has something loving inside.

Heizou

Oh if anything could prove more entertaining and endearing then having you perched on his lap, attempting to help solve a case he figured out twenty minutes ago. He would tell you, but the sight of your brow furrowed in concentration and the gleeful look on your face when you turn around to point out a clue you'd linked is so terribly charming to the poor detective he'll follow along for just a little while longer. He then tests how many times he can repeat this scenario before you notice that he's already solved these cases, he just enjoys seeing your face light up, even more so when his own cheeks tint pink at the sight.

Flins

He's developed the awful habit of hiding away in his lantern every time you so much as have a petty dispute - terrible sulker that he is. Every time you sigh, chastising his childish behaviour under your breath but still picking up said lantern, purple glow flooding the darkness of the corridors, and set it on the bedside table before turning to sleep - he never expects it. He eventually comes to the amusing realisation you most likely can't sleep without him near, or struggle to at the least. When you wake, you'll find a certain fae out of hiding, wound around you like a constrictor with his face buried in the crook of your neck.

Gorou

Seldom does he let anyone near his canine features, until you manage to become a small exception to that rule. Oh he'll never admit it, but the blissful sleepy expression on his face whilst you comb through the matted fur of his tail after an exhausting day sparring and patrolling betrays his true emotions. If you deign to tease him even a little, he blushes a furious red and huffs in grumbled protest, yet he still can't seem to pull away from your soothing touch.

Ifa

Oh he's weak for seeing you in his clothes. When he emerges from the bedroom to find you perched on the edge of the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee in hand and another waiting beside you, black and bitter - exactly how he has it - his discarded shirt from last night haphazardly thrown on, he swears he has momentary heart palpitations. Even more so when you throw a knowing grin his way and gesture to the cooling caffeine waiting for him.

Itto

The bigger question is what don't you do that makes him fold instantly? If he had to pick one thing in particular however, it would have to be when you indulge his childish dramatics. He'll boast about an onikabuto fight against a child from the city he won, he's aware it's not anything significant, yet when you laugh and clap encouragingly, it touches him in profound ways he can't seem to articulate.

Kaeya

He may not remember it most of the time, his memories a hazy blur of wine and charm, yet on the occasion he does recall you leaning his weight against you and dragging him home from the angel's share to heard him into bed and make him drink some water - swiping a damp cloth over his forehead in an attempt to sober him up just a little, lest he suffer another god awful hangover - he feels the sickeningly sweet feeling of what he refuses to admit is love settle at the pit of his stomach.

Kaveh

Oh he's far too flustered to admit that when he finds himself slumped against his desk, head on an array of architectural papers and pencil still in hand - waking up to instead realise he's propped up on a pillow, blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a freshly made cup of tea still emitting steam inches away - his heart does a little flip in his chest. He knows you know it's a bad habit he won't stop anytime soon, yet the little things you do show him just how much you care.

Kazuha

He's a wandering spirit, unable to stay in one place for too long, and though it pains him to leave you behind every now and then - he can't help but feel a little more in love every time he sees you at the dock, waving at him with that saccharine smile and unbridled enthusiasm. It's the knowledge that you'll always be here, waiting for him to inevitably follow his loyal heart back to you that keeps him going.

Kinich

In the rare moments Ajaw isn't trailing behind Kinich like a loud record that won't ever stop playing - much to both yours and Kinich's disdain - he can't help but allow himself the indulgence of your touch. He may not seem like a very touchy guy on the outside, which is partially true, but with Ajaw's frequent interference, physical contact is a luxury not often afforded. So he finds himself wrapping his arms around you like he'll be ripped away the next second, leaning into the warmth of your body like it's his saving grace.

Lyney

He's become so adept at maintaining the façade, the show persona, that when you see past it for the first time, he can't help but be thrown a little off guard. It's when you notice the fatigue under the performer, that he feels seen. It's an odd feeling for him but one he learns to embrace anyway, and one day he finds there's little more comforting than the warmth of your embrace when you ask after his wellbeing.

Neuvillette

Hardworking and hardly ever home should become the motto for Neuvillette's life sometimes, being chief justice of Fontaine means piles of paperwork makes their way onto his desk every time he so dares to glance away from it. It makes the bright afternoons where you slip into his office with lunch and a adoringly sweet kiss to his cheek all the more gratifying. Even spending those 30 minutes with you every few days makes the workload looming above him seem a little smaller.

Ororon

He's perfected the art of awkward fumbling and shy gaps in conversation at this point, no matter how close you get to each other he seems to never overcome this lull in interaction, though you find it endearing, he still flushes with embarrassment every time. Therefore he's come to favour the time he spends with you that takes place in comfortable silence. Whether you're helping him in the vegetable patch or simply sitting side pressed to side on the sofa together, minutes away from falling asleep - all of it soothes his anxious heart and lets him enjoy your company without the nerves of conversation.

Pantalone

For such a wealthy man, he's the farthest from profligate someone could be. Every expensive is documented and accounted for, yet somehow the jewel encrusted necklace that appears on your vanity one day seems to escape the logs. So does the subtly expensive perfume a few days later, then the flowers delivered to your workplace. When questioned, he'll deny any knowledge of such things, claiming they simply don't exist, but the way his lips curve upward when he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead is telling.

Sethos

He's a tease, a fact he won't even deny himself, especially when it comes to you. But then on occasion you'll find it amusing to return the favour, and suddenly he finds himself at a loss for what to do. He never expects you to turn the tables on him and whisper something in his ear or drag a finger down his chest in smug reciprocation, and it makes him blush and mumble something inaudible under his breath every time, much to your delight, he finds.

Thoma

Everyone on the Kamisato estate knows Thoma is arguably the best cook within a 50 mile radius, and he himself cannot deny that his skills in the kitchen are proficient. But on days housework and errands have made his muscles feel like lead and the thought of facing yet something else to tackle when he gets home makes him want to run in the opposite direction, walking through the front door to the smell of your already half finished cooking fills him with gratitude like no other. He'll smother you in kisses while you try and finish purely for taking the weight off his shoulders every now and again.

Tighnari

He's often up late, working on ranger schedules or logging another mushroom related incident as a result of yet another person that's not listened to his advice correctly - yet when he feels a pair of warm arms wind around his shoulders and your face settle into the crook of his neck - he can't help but feel an irresistible temptation to retreat back into the bed. He's been brushing off how tired he feels for at least an hour now and the way you murmur in his ear for him to give up and get some sleep has given him a fresh realisation of the weight in his bones. Maybe the work can be finished in the morning after all.

Venti

As the so called 'weakest archon', he's become used to falling into last place, and he doesn't even mind honestly - sometimes it's better to not have the pressure of being the most powerful. Yet the first time you call him 'my strong archon', he stops like a deer in headlights. He doesn't remember the last time someone referred to him like that, and so confidently too. For once the bard is genuinely flustered - having to turn away and bashfully hide his face before you can notice the impact those three words had on him. Maybe with you he can let himself feel like something other than the weakest.

Wanderer

He often finds himself awake during the night, restless and plagued by memories of the pasts he's lived. He won't admit it, but he doesn't want to burden you with the same, so he'll carefully extract himself from your embrace, pour himself a cup of the most black and bitter tea he could possibly make and head out to sit on the back step, staring up at the endless expanse of Teyvat's star smothered sky. He comes to realise merely minutes later, footsteps approach from behind. He won't turn to look - he knows it's you - but when you settle in next to him with your own cup and inevitably end up falling fast asleep against him moments later, he won't complain.

Wriothesely

Seldom does Wriothesley have the time to emerge to the surface, and that consequently results in very little shared time between the two of you. Therefore imagine his surprise when he returns to his office after seeing to a matter elsewhere in the fortress to find you perched on the edge of his cluttered desk, tea tray stocked and set beside you, with that knowing smirk dancing across your features. He's taken aback for all of a second before suddenly he's right in front of you, sweeping you up into his strong arms. A short break from his duties couldn't hurt.

Xiao

He's not used to being around people, that much is blatantly obvious after spending any amount of time in Xiao's company - he doesn't care for company much either. However after some persistence, he finds you've snuck your way into his space without him even realising, or caring at that - something about your companionship is less bothersome than most. You'll clamber your way up to the roof of wangshu inn most nights, perch yourself next to him and just... exist. He notes you don't scramble to fill the silence, you just lean against his shoulder and watch the stars with him.

Zhongli

He's lived for centuries, and every memory, every whisper of a ghost in the hallways of someone he used to know, is a burden he and he alone must bear. He's steeled himself to this reality - the price an archon must pay - yet when you, a mortal, string your hands through the golden tips of his hair, or gently trace the gold markings that line the charcoal skin of his forearms, listening intently to his stories like there's weight to each and every detail - the load on his heart feels just that little bit lighter.

A/N: This has been in my drafts for way too long why did i think this would take me like 10 mins </3

©2026 V4MP1R1CS please don't repost any of my work on any other site, copy, modify, claim as your own or feed into ai.

[harmonysanreads]

❝ fanfiction.[you].net ❞

Premise : Picture a parallel universe where all your blorbos are the ones expressing their profound yearning for you (yes, YOU) through the sacred arts of fanfics, fanarts and exchanging kudos. Perhaps you're a celebrity, perhaps you're just an ordinary person charming enough to have an entire fandom behind you or, you're the fictional character in this universe instead. Let's dive into this website, shall we?

Characters : Phainon, Scaramouche, Mydei, Sunday, Gepard, Venti, Dr. Ratio, Alhaitham, Albedo, Aventurine, Childe, Dan Heng, Anaxa, Argenti, Ayato, Jing Yuan, Flins, Neuvillette, Zhongli (for now).

Note : So uh, I typed this down with almost zero critical thinking and 100% whimsy within one hour. Character selection is random, too. Please excuse any unintentional errors <3

— THE WRITERS AND ARTISTS

Phainon has an erratic writing pattern, no one can guess what this guy will whip up in his next post. One moment he's weaving gourmet in text-form about an emotion-packed forbidden love story between knight and monarch and the next he's posted some unedited word vomit with a witty ‘no beta we die like ___’ tag. That, or it's his stick figure comics against the world. Everyone thinks he's mad funny though, so the readers forgive him.

Scaramouche who started as a HATER. What do you mean people are so obsessed with one person that they've made a digital shrine of fanfics and fanarts for them? He's going to do a thorough research on you... for the sake of ethically sourced hate of course. One thing leads to another, his ‘research’ spirals and all you need to know is that he's a diehard [Name] simp now — not that he'd admit it.

Mydei who, in great contrast to his usual self, writes some very cutesy stuff. “What if you two turned into chimeras for a day” stuff like that. He's mostly known for his chibi drawings though. Very escapism-from-a-burdened-life themed, if you want to psychoanalyze, that is.

Sunday who just can't cross the boundary of writing gentlemanly hand-kisses and heartfelt hugs in terms of physical affection, even though he's probably read hardcore smut by someone else. And even when he's writing about kissing your hand, he's squirming in his seat, wings restless enough for him to start taking flight or something. His characterization tends to be very thoughtful though so the readers don't care.

One of the very first dwellers of the website, Gepard's... unique drawings fed many people back in the days and are still remembered fondly to this date. Nowadays, he isn't as active as he used to be though.

Venti's blog is dedicated to poetry about you, everyone is low-key jealous of his rhyming skills. He's also one of the more active people, sharing others' works regularly without fail.

Dr. Ratio who becomes SICK of the amount of mischaracterization floating around about you in the fanfics and the burn from the majority of the fics not meeting his standards, so, he starts writing fanfics catering to his specific needs himself.

Alhaitham who posted like two or three 10k something word-count fics and then dipped because he lost motivation. The readers are still in mourning, because he left them on a devasting cliff-hanger. Kaveh, Cyno and Sethos have made a ‘Day X until @/vulturevolans posts’ chain in the comments. They just don't know it's Alhaitham who's the writer.

Albedo is that artist whose works you'd think would be hung on museum walls, yet, he's here posting jaw-dropping art with you as the muse. His ‘character study’ series of sketches about you is noted to be... very brainrot-worthy, let's say.

— MISC. INHABITANTS

Aventurine is the famous ‘commissioner’ guy who drops by people's inboxes with hilarious memes seeking fic or art, or just to appreciate the existing works. You can bet he's commissioned something out of every writer and artist on this site.

Childe is another commissioner. He'd most likely commission Phainon though because he knows Phainon can whip up a good flirting-through-sparring oneshot with accuracy ensured about how a sword works and all. They say Varka of Mondstadt has this fic printed and binded like a book.

Don't tell the Trailblazer and March 7th, but Dan Heng is one of the admins who manage the site. He knows every work posted here like the back of his hand. He may or may not know about the true identities of everyone who has an account on this website.

— NOTABLE READERS

Anaxa who gets exposed as a fanfic reader in class after he accidentally comments, ‘‘This looks like something that you'd find in fanfiction.[you].net.’’ while grading a few students' (read: Phainon and Castorice) essays. He got back at them with the threat of ‘If the next fic doesn't meet my standards, I'm failing you.’ though. So, no worries.

Argenti who's known as the ‘long comment guy’. He leaves whole paragraphs of praises with sparkly rosy emojis under every work on the site, without exception. It's kind of an honor to receive his comments.

Ayato, Jing Yuan, Flins, Neuvillette and Zhongli aren't really part of the dramatic crew. They tend to savour the works from a distance. They don't even have to commission the writers here, the sincere compliments and ideas they share are enough to keep the facilitation of brainrot smooth.

[miyaz6ki]

" they don't know about us " w/ genshin multi men x gn! reader . . . 𝝑𝝔 walking in on you changing, how will he react? || albedo, alhaitham, capitano, childe, wriothesley, diluc, neuvillette, kinich, xiao, dainsleif, wanderer x gn! reader

cw: suggestive, no specified pronouns/anatomy for reader, NO ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP!

synopsis. when he walks in on his crush changing—how does he react?

wc: 1k ; not proofread, might be ooc! + i'll make a part 2 w/ diff characters

albedo was just... lowkey stuck in awe at first. like his mouth is a little agape at first, but he's one of the only ones to catch his composure immediately.

"oh... i—i didn't realize someone was in here, apologies."

doesn't close the door quick enough for you not to notice though, his gaze just lingering through the crack of the door a little longer. more than what you could call friendly look.

alhaitham rolls his eyes, acts ignorant, and plays it off as super duper 'i dont care just hurry up' when in reality, he's covering his mouth in embarassment once he closes that door again.

"oh, better hurry up then, other people want to use this room too."

but in his mind, he'll be replaying the moment he got to glance at your bare skin for a moment (like a man in the 1800s seeing a woman's ankles).

"fuck, what are you doing to me?..."

capitano thinks it is normal to be caught off-guard and vulnerable every now and then, he doesn't lose his composure until after—he didn't mean to think about the moment over and over again... but his subconscious says otherwise.

"ah... my apologies, please continue, i will... be leaving now." he stumbles over his words a little before turning the door knob and returning outside.

he will be fighting his own mind for wandering back to that memory, even if it is out of control, he's just scolding himself like 'stop this lust at once...'

childe is of course one to tease, he ateals every chance he gets, and this is one of those opportunities! he will not shy away from showing his attraction (but will still end up getting flustered)

"ahh... name? i believe you forgot to lock the—hey don't throw that at me!"

still finds himself smirking about it by the time you come out the room, just is leaning against the wall while grinning like a madman.

"it's not my fault i got a peek... ack! okay i'm sorry!"

wriothesley is also one to tease, but not without being... well somewhat polite. it's already impolite when you walk in on your crush changing...

"whoops! my bad, just keep changing... i—yeah i'll just... take my leave."

he ends up flustering a bit at the end but come on, who wouldn't? and if ever you ask him if you look good or not he's gonna explode (with embarassment.)

he'll give you his jacket if you feel you're missing anything before leaving together.

diluc just.. didn't say anything until after. shut the door faster than anything, that was his priority before rewatching the moment where... agh where is his mind heading!!

yes, he is one to fight his own subconscious, feels guilty as fuck afterward, not even because his eyes lingered a bit when he got a glimpse, but it's the fact he remembered every little detail.

"...oh, you are... you are speaking to me... m—my apologies."

neuvillette closes the door just as fast, even if he didn't see anything, the handle almost breaks off from how hard his grip was. and as well as the harshness as he slammed it back shut—

"name are you—i'm... my apologies—"

is all you hear before a loud bang is echoing through the room, and the quick footsteps away from outside walk off in a panic.

can't look you in the eye for at least a day. he is way too embarassed to.

kinich closes the door just as silent as when he opened it, only hearing the two small clicks; one for opening, and another to close it. he'll make sure to keep watch from outside.

"...hmm? it's alright, i saw nothing."

but you can't deny the lingering gaze he gave evey now and then when you two started to walk, especially on the skin that he totally didn't see.

xiao was... well xiao. he is similar to kinich, but way less nonchalant about it. tries too hard he comes undone... like legit red in the face but claims to...

"i... i didn't see anything, i-i promise. i was just... making sure you weren't having trouble or whatever."

he rolls his eyes like they didn't just peer through the small gap he left open to 'leep an eye on you'...

can't maintain eye contact for more than a minute. congrats, you've broken him!

dainsleif didn't mean to walk inside, the door just happened to break while he tried to lean ln the door to hear if anyone was inside—yes he fell in, yes he apologized, no he wasn't crimson-cheeked. he doesn't know what you mean.

"... apologies. again. i... i hope you know i didn't mean that. my.. my blush does not speak for itself. i do not blush."

sure you don't! he totally is not when his orbs hover over your skin like a magnifying glass; letting his eyes unravel whatever he could see, knowing he already saw what he wasn't supposed to...

wanderer? oh he plays it off so well... but the thing is, he doesn't blush at first, not at all. yes he has apologized before closing the door once more; but the thing is, he doesn't realize you're right by the door while he talks to himself.

"cute... why do you have to be so.. fuckin' cute.

makes sure you leave safely, and definitely offered to zip it up for you before he went back out.

[quimichi]

↳ ❝ [THINGS THEY SAY DURING 'IT'] ¡! ❞ @ - Part 1.

TW: MDNI - NSFW, sexual themes obviously lol

SUMMARY: Title :)

CHARACTERS: Aether Albedo Al-Haitham Ayato Baizhu Capitano Childe Cyno Dainsleif Diluc Dottore Freminet & Gorou x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.044

A/N: idk just a random new idea, watch me get more and more unserious with every character you pass

Aether

❝Agh-...shit...❞ - he holds back his sounds as he moans and curses into his hand

❝ Mh-no, like that, yeah...move like that...good❞ - he bites his lip as his lust drowned eyes stare up at you, holding your thighs tight for stability

❝Slower?...okay❞ - speeds up with a slight laugh, stopping seconds later to slow down again

Albedo

❝This spot? Yeah?...knew it...❞ - it's rare for you to see him smug, but that smirk he will give you when he finds out his guess was right is something else

❝Hold still for me...yes?❞ - he pushes your thighs apart, settling down comfortably between them as he dives in

❝Some interesting sounds you make...❞ - and he will carve them into his mind. When you're away he will remember them, will miss them, miss you and everything about you

Al-Haitham

❝Keep quite...❞ - there's no harshness in his words, just slight desperation as he breaths those words in your ear as he fucks you on the couch in his shared house with Kaveh, while he is asleep in his room

❝Tell me what you want...come on, you can do it. Speak up.❞ - sometimes the way he talks to you is infuriating, like he's talking to a stupid child. It not only embarrasses you when he speaks so teasingly, it makes you angry, frustrated, and maybe a bit turned on

❝If you can't watch your hands i won't watch my teeth.❞ - you tugged on his precious hair, so he can't help but tease you even more as he eats you out

Ayato

❝Mmm...yeah...❞ - he's rather quite, Ayato hums more, right in your ear with such a disgusting smirk because he knows any sound he does will drive you wild

❝Don't overestimate yourself, hm?❞ - he always says the same as you sink down on him. He knows exactly that his tip just puts too much pressure on your cervix. He might tease you, but he doesn't want to hurt you

❝I got you...don't worry, i got you...❞ - while you come down from your high...did he came himself? No, but it's okay. You're his number 1 priority

Baizhu

❝So...warm...❞ - no matter how many times you two have sex, your warmth will always overwhelm him

❝Shh...you don't know who might come in.❞ - he doesn't take many risks but god he can't hold himself back when you help him out in Bubu Pharmacy

❝I'll take care of it...don't worry.❞ - look, he's a doctor, a people pleaser and helper, ofc he only takes care of you and not of himself

Capitano

❝Take it slow, theres no rush.❞ - says the big guy with the prettiest cock and he doesn't even know it

❝Do you need a break? No?...heh...alright then...❞ - proceeds to rearrange your guts

❝What did i tell you?❞ - he means please, tell him please, ask nicely with manners like he taught you

Childe

❝Naww, someones needy huh? It went riiight in, with no problem.❞ - I bet you can practically hear and see the smug look on this abominations face

❝Look baby i don't wanna hurt you, yeah? You need to tell me when i go too hard.❞ - just a little nice check in for him. He wants to make sure you know you are always free to tell him off, he doesn't want to force himself on and in you

❝Good? Hah-ah-...yeah...thought so...❞ - sometimes the smugness will flatter, especially once he's close...you don't know who enjoys it more, him or you

Cyno

❝You hear that?...Thats you...❞ - he pumps his fingers in and out of you, slow and fast, changing pace. But no matter how fast or slow, he absolutely loves when you're as wet as you can get

❝Are you certain that you really want th-! Ouch why'd you slap me-❞ - he always asks the same, over and over again, it's nice that he keeps asking for your consent but at this point it annoys you like...bro you already been between my legs for like 30mins I had enough time thinking about it

❝Where?...ah-quick tell me-❞ - whenever he doesn't wear a condom and realistically...I don't think condoms exist in genshin lol

Dainsleif

❝So desperate...it's almost cute.❞ - he knows it's basically a long distance relationship considering he's almost never there. That's what makes it even "better" for him when you two see each other. He can't help but tease

❝Calm down, we're not in a rush.❞ - basically the first, same vibe, call me lazy lol

❝Still...gh-taking it so well...❞ - uhhh yeah we have a theme here

Diluc

❝You look cold...i could warm you up...❞ - sometimes him being smooth works, sometimes not, and sometimes he just sounds like a cheaper version of himself (Batman)...or sometimes he does what Kaeya says-

❝Where's the 'please'?❞ - he's so well mannered it's scary, so he expects the same for you too. Say please and thank you

❝Maybe if you would've behaved like I told you to, we wouldn't be here right now.❞ - he says it so calm as he fucks you against the cold stone wall behind Angels share in the middle of the night where any drunken idiot could see...or the patrols...that are very much sober (hopefully???)

Dottore

❝Hm? This? Oh, thats just for documentation.❞ - he records your voice...he literally studies your reactions and change in voice.

❝I won't tell you again, hold still.❞ - he isn't scared of tying you up at all so either hold still or be held still

❝...hm...you're too quite...❞ - he literally wants the Tsaritsa to hear like???

Freminet

❝Ngh-h-hey-calm down or else-!❞ - WE LOBE SUB BOYS, I WANNA HEAR YOU SCREAM, WE LOVE SUB BOYS

❝This is...new...yeah...❞ - he's a explorer but he also wants to be explored sksksksksk

❝So-warm-!❞ - uhm...self explanatory. When he enters you it's warm lol

Gorou

❝Wdym I'm in heat AGAIN?!❞ - he can't help but not be horny like?? Have you seen yourself??

❝Agh-...i tried to br gentle but you just-❞ - no self control, smh

❝Right there? See...told you i won't forget.❞ - he's eating you out, and still remembers your most sensitive spots like it's craved in his mind...because it is

[kazusys]

— 𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐜𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝

genshin boys as cupids. / fluff, slightly suggestive in a couple / cw: tighnari… kinda drugging people?? / other: includes: what cupid are they, your relationship with each other, and what happens. (🏹) a/n: NO WAY I’M DONE I’M DONE I’M DONENSJSJSKSK this was supposed to be a Valentine’s Day post btw but stuff happened so now it’s a White Day post (would explain what it is here but my phone is lagging SO BAD RN) umm um i hope you guys like!! btw listen to shameless while reading it sets the tone | tagging: @aritsukemo @ananeuvii @karmamira @scaraobsession @thelustfaerie

characters included: albedo, alhaitham, childe, cyno, durin, flins, heizou, itto, kaeya, kazuha, kinich, lyney, scaramouche, thoma, tighnari, varka, and xiao. BONUS: venti

wc: ~15.8k words

IMAGINE… a land unknown to humans on the earth, is home to cupids. cupids of love, cupids of the fatui. they can come down in disguise to enact their jobs, and they can fly in the skies to aim at unsuspecting pairs.

in regards to cupids of love, many believe that their arrows work instantaneously without fail. while that may sometimes be the case (specifically with people who have built relationships with their significant other already), sometimes a little push is needed. perhaps to bring the pair closer, maybe because of conflicting reasons. that’s why cupids are able to transfigure into regular humans.

in regards to cupids of the fatui, their arrows cause the opposite effect of love, instead bringing hate to those shot by the dark tipped arrows. it quite literally forms a war between love and hate.

the archons of their world carry special golden tipped arrows, instilling love and immense desire into whoever they pierce automatically and immediately. those shot are drawn to whoever their desire is, and the urges that overpower the victims are seldom overcome. it’s very powerful, unlike what the usual cupids carry.

finally and most importantly, an unspoken rule is layered on top of all these cupids’ jobs. breaking this rule would be seen as forbidden, something sure to house dysfunction and a cupid’s loss of self.

and that is, having a romantic relationship with a human being is strictly prohibited.

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

literally calculates the compatibility in his pairs. very much a perfectionist. he’s subtle with how he puts people together, too. he finds humans interesting, but unfortunately might see them akin to test subjects…

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

you were a part of the knights of favonius. albedo acknowledged you, but you never became anything more than coworkers. that is, until he was instructed to matchmake you with someone. as per usual, he shot his pair: you and a knight you were close with. however, the arrow seemed to hardly work on you, you acted normally as if nothing had changed. perhaps you were just someone who hardly changed when infatuated, albedo concluded, so he went to verbally give you a push, only to find out that his previous theory was correct, the arrow simply hadn’t worked. it was odd, an error. so he began to accompany you frequently to find out why. he never expected to end up falling for you instead.

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

“— and that is the story.”

albedo was speaking with kaeya, a coworker both as mortals and cupids, about his predicament.

“so, the arrow didn’t work. do you think the arrows are defective?” kaeya questions.

“perhaps. however, i believe it’s more likely that (name) likes someone else rather intensely, contracting the effects. there have been occasions of that, correct?”

“i believe so. say (name) does, in fact, like someone else. considering your newfound feelings…”

“… i won’t get in the way. cupids are not supposed to be with humans. it’s simply a phase, it will pass.” albedo responds, leaving out the fact that it’s been a long time coming since he grew to be aware of his feelings for you, hardly befitting for just a “phase.”

kaeya looks at albedo with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “i see. i suppose keeping an eye on (name) is the best thing you can do right now.”

the conversation ends as albedo enters his office and bids kaeya farewell.

albedo sighs, taking a few test tubes and containers from his shelves.

“do you like anyone?”

that was a question albedo’s been asking you the entire past week. you always avoided the question, or stated that you did but refused to tell him who. so, albedo constructed a plan.

he was going to be working with you today under the guise of the effects of a new potion he concocted.

he tips the contents of a test tube into another container, the pink liquid inside slowly sliding down.

in actuality, despite his own conscience telling him off, he was going to be giving you a sort of truth potion to get his answer, an idea he received from another fellow cupid, lisa.

he was still conflicted with what he’d do upon hearing your answer. but he’d decided a long time ago that his own feelings should never interfere with his job, and he felt that that ethic shouldn’t cease now.

he hears a light rap on the door.

“come in,” he calls out.

you enter quickly, seeing albedo swirling a slightly translucent thick pink substance. you’re quick to join his side, albedo handing you the vial.

“thank you for assisting me with this.”

you smile brightly at him, “it’s no problem! so, i just drink this?”

albedo nods. “perhaps you should sit down first. here, let me bring you a chair.”

you watch as he grabs the chair from his desk, pulling it near the lab table as he sits across from you. you take a seat.

“alright, go ahead.”

you carefully place the vial against your lips, letting the potion slowly go down your throat. you notice its harsh sweetness straight away, making you wince slightly.

when half is finished, albedo asks a question. “what do you taste?”

you lower the tube. your tongue feels looser in a way, and your mind is a tad foggy.

“it’s… incredibly sweet,” you start. your voice is a little croaky, no doubt from the potion, but you manage to recall the homeliness you first recognized upon the concoction hitting your tastebuds and manage to relay it to your partner.

“i see…” albedo mutters, scribbling something down before continuing his thought. “you may continue.”

you start to drink again, draining the vial of its contents as albedo simply observes. once you’re done, albedo asks another question.

“(name), do you like anyone?”

you pause for a second, your line of thinking immensely unclear but your mouth ready to speak without your mind catching up.

“well, i like many people, like—”

“apologies. let me make my question clearer.”

you feel a sudden sense of dread.

albedo scribbles something down again. “do you like anyone immensely, in the other sense, or perhaps, love?”

if you weren’t so horrified at your sudden realization of what you possibly could’ve drunken, you would’ve spent a bit laughing at the way he worded his question.

“i do.” your throat feels drier than before.

“who?” he asks oh-so-innocently.

“… someone.”

“what is their name?”

you find yourself looking into albedo’s eyes and expect to find his usual calculating look. instead… you see a certain gentleness you’ve never seen before.

maybe that’s what pushed you to stay in your seat, to not run away to the door to prevent you from answering his question. the words were on the tip of your tongue, and without any thought, you open your mouth to let them out.

“his name is albedo.”

you avert your gaze upon seeing the way his lips part just a bit, eyes widened as he freezes.

it stays silent, and you suddenly feel like crawling into a hole and dying.

“are… you telling the truth?” he manages to get out.

you huff in faux annoyance. “i think you know your potion’s not faulty.”

his expression relaxes a little as he mutters an apology, but he still looks conflicted.

“it’s… okay if you don’t feel the same,” you say within the silence. “i… i’ll be going now.”

“no,” albedo finds himself grabbing your hand before immediately letting it go. “i still require your help.”

before you can ask, he takes a separate vial of the same potion you consumed before and downs it fully.

“albedo?”

he sighs, setting the now empty tube on the table. “ask me if i love anyone.”

you breathlessly chuckle before complying. “albedo, do you love anyone?”

he replies instantly. “i do. (name), i love you.”

“are you telling the truth?” you tease.

he places a hand over yours and tugs it close to his chest. it happens suddenly, your lips on his as you feel him inhale a little sharply, the way his hands curl with yours and the way he chases for more when you break away.

“‘bedo,” you breathe out.

he nods, and you feel your heart squeeze at the look he’s giving you in that moment.

“i love you, too.”

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

thinks the whole matchmaking business is trivial. he only agreed because agreeing meant being able to spend his time down in the world as a regular, humble human. he doesn’t like interacting with his subjects, he’d much rather play behind the scenes.

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

simply library buddies. you’d see him here and there, nose in a book and noise cancellers deep in his ears, and you kept to yourself. you did eventually speak to each other, when alhaitham was searching intensively for a book you were reading at the time. you sparked some light conversation, and the two of you got along better than you’d expected. it wasn’t a dramatic way of meeting, and the way your relationship grew was subtle; and that’s why alhaitham liked it, liked you. you were sensible, a person he could talk to for hours without getting a hint of a migraine. he even revealed his status as a cupid, albeit because of your confrontation as to why he seemed so interested in setting up two of your colleagues together. yes, his logical mind calls him out, but for once he doesn’t want to listen.

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

it was late, near the closing of the library you were close to passing out in. you had to be there, though. the exam you had tomorrow was promised to be tough. sure, you felt decently ready, but the thought of being underprepared had you wide awake. unused time is wasted time, you think.

you see a shadow loom over you from behind, the sudden presence making you jump slightly. a familiar hand comes to shut your book, taking it as you whip your head around.

“what are you still doing here?”

it’s alhaitham. arms crossed, stern expression, towering over you. even with the limited light illuminating the cozy area you’ve inhabited for the past couple hours, you can see him clearly.

you rub your eyes, blinking harshly as you respond.

“… studying.”

“it won’t do you any good if you can barely keep your eyes from closing.”

you shrug, too tired to argue. gathering your things into their bag, you slowly stand, the world blurring around you as you take your hands off the table.

alhaitham places a gentle hand on your upper back, guiding you firmly to the library exit. the air that hits you is refreshing, to say the least.

“what time were you planning on leaving?”

you give a slight grimace. “i… wasn’t keeping track. i remembered to eat something, though…”

alhaitham gives a curt nod. “will you be able to walk home?”

“i… think so? i mean, i’m tired, but…”

“get on my back, then. i’ll carry you.”

you look up at him. “wait, really?”

he turns so his back is facing you. “it would be a hassle if you were to faint due to your exhaustion.”

you get on his back, his hands protectively holding your legs as you wrap your arms securely around him.

he glances over his shoulder to look at you. “i’ll be transporting you aerially in order for you to arrive home in a shorter span of time.”

before you can reply, alhaitham begins to glow. the warmth from the luminance seeps to your bones and envelops you wholly in a comforting embrace.

you can feel the feathers of his wings begin to appear as they grow to their original state, appearing in their full glory as you try not to get in the way.

even with the change, you’re still able to recognize him. always. it’s alhaitham, no matter what form or appearance he takes on.

he flaps his wings once, twice, and takes off up into the night, full of stars waiting to surround you with their own glows.

you feel yourself smile. “thank you. you… really didn’t have to do this.”

he lightly squeezes the part of your legs he’s holding, maybe to convey some of the emotions he wants to share with you, in his own way. the breeze softly flowing against you both slightly ruffles his hair, and you almost want to reach out and take a hold of it.

“just the opposite,” he replies.

maybe it was the lack of sleep you were currently affected by, or the fairytale like moon shining upon its realm. whatever the case, you lean down slightly to brush your lips against the back of his neck.

you observe alhaitham’s slight tensing and the small shiver that seems to vibrate through him, all the way to the tips of his wings.

he looks over at you and says your name, still sounding as unaffected as always.

“if you’re going to kiss me, do it properly.”

“i thought it was forbidden for cupids to be in a relationship with humans?” you tease, leaning close to him anyways despite your heart warning you, beating uncontrollably against your will.

all it takes is him closing the gap between you for you and him to meet.

alhaitham was truly right, to love would be a distraction, a hindrance for many.

but if you asked him in that moment, when all that exists is a small bubble of you and him intertwined with the stars and constellations around, perhaps he’d share a different view.

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

hectic. breaks couples up, yearns for the chaos it brings, instigates, gaslights, pushes, plays. wherever there’s a messy breakup, there’s a childe.

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

he knew you long before you knew him. and during that time, he’d grown… attracted. so he came down, befriended you. mayyybe broke you up with your boyfriend. but he can’t say he regrets it when your relationship has grown so far now!

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

you found out that he had fabricated those photos— the incriminating photos that contributed to your break up. and you found out what he said to your boyfriend so long ago to make you sound unlikable, another addition.

“childe, don’t lie to me,” you warn. “i know you did and said those things, there’s no point in saying otherwise.” 

you watch him battle with his emotions.

“… i’m sorry.” childe says.

“and?” 

he takes your hands, kicked puppy face expression plastered on as he tries to apologize.

“please forgive me?” 

you don’t. 

“sorry won’t cut it, you know.” 

you have half a mind to leave him where he stands, but a more empathetic part of you continues to reason, especially as he gets down on his knees to peer up at you through his hair. 

your eyebrows raise, childe, despite his pride and status, is kneeling before you. even with the degrading position, he remains steadfast in both what he’s doing and how he looks. 

“how can i make it up to you?” he asks, genuine and sincere. 

he’s pretty like this, you think. but if he thinks he can get away just by that alone, he’s sorely mistaken. 

“it’s not that easy,” you say, trying to make your voice come off as more serious instead of your slightly disappointed tone. “you haven’t even given me a valid reason as to why you did all this in the first place, so why should i forgive you?” 

that silences him. 

he stares into your eyes, different from how he was before. it’s earnest, unlike his usual playful demeanor. 

he begins to emit a luminary glow, the warmth omitted traveling up your arms from his hands. 

two wings flap from his back, feathers fluttering down from the movement as the appendages wrap around your legs. 

you stare in awfully hidden awe. 

“… childe?” 

he buries his head into your hands, as if bowing to you. “i’m a part of the fatui. you know them, right?”

you let his hair sink through your fingers, softly curling into the strands as you wait for him to continue. 

“… i… was jealous. i didn’t like seeing you with him. cupids, even ones like me, aren’t even allowed to be with humans. but i…” 

“childe—”

“ajax,” he says. 

“… ajax… look at me?” you tilt his head up, cupping his face as his eyes dart to yours. 

you kneel with him, childe’s wings moving to envelop your body instinctively.

“you said… cupids… aren’t allowed to be with humans?” 

he nods. “i don’t care, though. i’ve already decided, i want to be with you. i’m sorry.” 

prohibited, forbidden, none of it matters as you inch his face closer. 

“prove it.” 

that’s all it takes as his arms immediately encircle you, kissing you so sweetly you think you’re seeing stars, as if he’s trying to erase the memory of him, to etch himself onto your lips forevermore. 

and when you separate, all he whispers is,

“i’m so glad i broke you two up.” 

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

best known for his prosecution upon those he finds being disloyal to their partners. kinda bad at the whole matchmaking thing due to his intimidating presence and odd use of jokes, so he usually asks others (tighnari) to confirm and help his pairs get together.

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

you live in gandharva ville and often go on expeditions to the desert for your research. being friends with tighnari, he refuses to ever let you wander into those vast lands alone, so he summons his good friend cyno anytime you decide to go. he was rather intimidating at first, but as he protected you from dangers time and time again, a trusting friendship was formed with cyno. it strengthened even more when he caught and dealt with your former cheating boyfriend. sometimes cyno wishes he could choke down his own feelings for you as easily as he choked that guy out.

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

it was supposed to be a four-day expedition in the desert to go examine some ancient runes, simple and easy enough. however…

“we should be safe in here.”

you rush into the cave’s entrance, quickly running far away from the outside desert, sputtering sand as you try dusting yourself off.

cyno comes close behind, only coughing a little and being a lot more calm about the situation. you guess it makes sense, he’s probably been through sandstorms much worse than this one.

“are you okay?” cyno asks.

you cough before replying, “yep, absolutely.”

cyno places a hand on your back, the sudden touch making you slightly jolt. “let’s go further in, i recognize this cave.”

you nod, letting cyno walk you forward as the taste of sand still lingers in your mouth.

you go deeper in, ending at the mostly flat grounds of the cave far away from the storm outside.

cyno’s able to light a small fire in the cave using stones and some wood you brought along as you lay your supplies out and take stock. thankfully, you have enough food to last a couple days. you give cyno some rations and munch down on some yourself, thankful for the replacement of the sand on your tongue.

after, you get out a brush specifically for brushing off sand and call cyno over.

“let me help you get all the sand off,” you say, gesturing for him to sit in front of the fire.

he obliges and you get to work, hearing cyno sigh at the feeling of your hands carding through his hair. you check and check, making sure you don’t miss a speck.

“i won’t have time to help you if you spend all night focusing on me,” cyno chides.

you playfully huff before handing him the brush, switching positions as he starts brushing through your hair. you notice he keeps a steady hand on your shoulder, the action leaving you a little warm.

he’s done a lot quicker, much to your dismay.

cyno stands first. “we should head to sleep. we’ll need our energy for tomorrow.”

you agree, feeling the exhaustion catching up and seeping through your bones. you hope that the beds you laid out earlier are still comfortable despite the cave floor.

you climb in next to cyno’s, a small shiver leaving you at the damp feeling.

of course, he notices.

he clears his throat, not meeting your eyes as he speaks. “if you get cold… if you’re comfortable… we can share a bed tonight.”

you feel warmth cover your heart, the only part of you staying at a good temperature, as you watch this bashful side of him make the offer.

you give a small smile. “i think we’ll have to.”

he wraps a hand around yours, slightly tugging it towards him as you take the hint. you lie down the same time he does, both of you taking the other in an embrace to share body heat as your main goal and to bring a comfort closer as the second.

his hand is loose around the back of your head, hand curled in your hair as you’re tucked into his neck, legs entangled in an intimate situation you’re sure most coworkers nor friends don’t share.

“goodnight, cyno,” you say, subconsciously holding him a little tighter.

“… goodnight, (name),” he murmurs quietly, doing the same to you as he’s reminded of what exactly he’s doing.

you can hear his heart beating fast. despite the way your face starts to warm even more, a shiver still runs through your spine.

“you’re still cold?” cyno asks, his voice unwavering and alert despite getting ready to go to sleep. you wonder how he’s not freezing, considering the way he’s dressed.

“a-a little,” you lie, “i’m fine.”

he’s quiet for a little; thinking, brooding over a solution. his face is slightly scrunched, you find it cute.

“close your eyes.”

you look at him, your expression a little puzzled as he waits. you decide to follow through and allow your eyes to shut, feeling cyno bring your head to rest into him. he keeps a protective hand there as you try not to breathe too heavily or too shallowly, the position he’s put you in being a bit flustering.

your eyelids block the sudden glow you presume comes from cyno, but you can feel the sudden warmth nonetheless. something akin to a heavy blanket is draped over you, and the immediate effect is felt.

the once frigid temperature transfigured into weather you could find during a pleasant warm day, the instant difference making you relax in cyno’s hold as he stays soundless.

you snap your eyes open and try moving your head to see what just happened— especially since you’re curious about the glow that’s still apparent— but cyno gently forces your head back and speaks before you can question him.

“get some rest, you’ll need the energy for tomorrow.”

his words, despite the buzzing of your head, sends the coziness in your brain and the heaviness of your eyes to lull you to sleep stronger than you can get yourself out of.

the last thing that gets you to the slumber you need is the small peck on the top of your head, the sudden affection from cyno being the last you feel, setting flames searing throughout your limbs…

“i… love you.”

… and the only clue you have as to what happened is the feather you see fall into your line of sight before your eyes close once again.

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

very new to this job. in fact, he’s still under an apprenticeship. but he’s getting the hang of things with the occasional mishap here and there. often takes harder jobs without realizing it and actually succeeds with the help of his teacher.

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

you met through wanderer, who was a friend of yours. at first, it was simply platonic. simple adventures together, picnics, nights under the stars; just the three of you. you traveled mostly to areas where wanderer and durin could do their jobs of cupids (unknown to you). you and durin grew close, him not realizing how close until things changed when you and durin first spent a night underneath the stars together, alone. talking, giggling about this and that, and the sudden realization came being, underneath the scattered lights above, you shone so beautifully. and that had durin panicking, heart leaping and mind boggled with what he was going to do.

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

“you like (name)?” 

durin timidly gives a nod, waiting for the reprimanding. but surprisingly…

wanderer sighs, “… okay, and?”

“… isn’t that not allowed?” 

“it’s… well, it’s… not. technically, you’re not a cupid yet. you’re still under apprenticeship,” he crosses his arms. “besides, the rule’s stupid anyways.” 

“you think so? do you think i’ll still be able to become a cupid?” durin’s eyes shine again with hope. 

before wanderer can answer, they hear your voice call out to them, both heads turning in that direction as they see you coming down the hill. you found a place to set the tents up. 

“we’re coming!” durin replies excitedly, tail swishing behind him. 

wanderer sighs again. 

it turns late, the sun setting as both durin and wanderer pitch the tents and help with the supplies you need for cooking. durin can smell the meat you hunted from earlier steaming in the pot, joining your side as he peeks in. 

“your favorite,” you state, “here.” 

you grab a plate and fill it for him with the dish, giving it to him as he looks at you with stars in his eyes. 

and even after you call wanderer over, even after dinner, even after you’re done cleaning; he finds himself staring at you when nothing else is more interesting. always with stars in his eyes, always accentuated. wanderer has to elbow him on countless occasions to focus, but it’s hard when you’re so entrancing. 

eventually, wanderer gets up. “i’m going to my tent, goodnight.” 

durin’s heart jumps at the fact that you’re now alone together, saying goodnight back a little too ecstatically. 

“there’s a clearing a little ways from here with a good look at the stars, wanna go?” you ask.  

durin nods eagerly. 

the clearing is beautiful, the sky fully expansive with the glowing stars running through the atmospheric darkness. it feels like a dream, a dream alike the first time durin realized he loved you under the stars. 

durin sits close to you, flowers he picked up along the way bunched up in his hands as he gives you a timid smile, handing them over carefully as if he’s handing his own heart. 

“for me?” you take them with a smile, “thank you, i love them!” 

he feels his more animated draconic parts becoming twitchy out of nervousness. “i… i have something to tell you.” 

you turn your body to fully face him. “go ahead.” 

durin takes a breath.

he begins to glow, illuminating the night enveloping you as his usual wings become feathery and starkly white, the small appendages flapping a few before settling against his back. a warm luminosity lingers around the dragon as he shyly peeks up at you. 

“surprise?” he whispers. 

“you’re…” you pause, reaching out instinctively to his wings. 

he lets you run a finger over the coverts, the limbs stretching closer to you as you look on in awe. 

“i’m a cupid. well, an apprentice! and, um…” durin takes a moment to sigh out at the feeling of your featherlight touch over the base of his wings. “… and… i really, really like you. but there’s a rule for cupids, that we can’t have romantic relationships with humans, but— mmp!” 

you press your lips against his, muffling his next words as he freezes, unsure what to do but keenly aware that you were kissing him. 

when you pull away, you smile sheepishly. “… sorry.” 

he rushes to assure you, “no, no! i-i enjoyed it! i was just… caught off guard, is all.” 

you cup his face, feeling the warmth emanating from the skin as you hear him swallow. 

“for the record, i really like you back, but if the rule…” 

durin shakes his head rapidly. “i’m not a cupid yet. and even if i do become one…” 

he hesitantly covers your hands with his own, wings fluttering and wrapping around himself. 

“… i don’t think i’d be able to give you up. i’m still a dragon, and dragons are known to be greedy, especially with things like treasures. and you’re a treasure that i wouldn’t trade the world for.” 

he bashfully hides his face against your palm.

the surprisingly heartfelt confession has you dipping down, kissing the top of his head to the side of his lips, kissing him properly when he emerges from your hand. 

it’s like he always dreamt of. you and him under the stars again, truly, truly together, starstruck eyes staring into yours.

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

he’s rather calming; his polite, courteous personality winning people over. he tells stories to cover up his true identities, stories of the winged babe version of cupid many people have grown accustomed to. he also helps spirits find their lost loved ones.

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

you like walking in the graveyard at night, or so you tell him, visiting the souls that have moved on and the dark ambience it exudes. flins began accompanying you after he found out, and a comforting routine was formed. he enjoys the late nights talks and your presence in general, it makes him feel… more human. he wonders if you can feel the tension that he’s drowning in from late evening to midnight.

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

you arrived early to the cemetery. you preoccupy yourself with searching for flins through the graves, through the fields— obviously to no avail. 

“maybe i should just go to the meeting place,”you conclude. 

it was gloomy, deeply atmospheric per usual. as always, you pay no mind, the knowledge that flins is around making the rather dark environment dissipate despite the keeper’s own appearance he gives off.  

you hear a bristling over to the side, making you stop momentarily. a small grove blocks a small amount of vision, but you can clearly make out flins far beyond. 

you make your way through the trees, landing upon a sight you could only describe as ethereal. 

there was flins, transformed into his winged body, avian limbs stretched out behind him with his hand combing through the feathers. with an unbothered look painted on his face, he turns to you.

“(name), you’re rather early.” 

you don’t look at him, a bit flustered from the view. “i am… um… what are you doing?” 

flins smiles and you shiver. 

“i suppose i’d describe it as… preening. i could use some help, if you’d like.” he says, a bit too smoothly, like he expected you to come. you feel as if every movement of yours is being scrutinized. 

“if… you’re okay with it.” you say, a little bashful as you make your way over, seated in front of him as he keeps that same pleasant smile that makes your stomach flip over. 

he flexes his wings out, slowly bringing them around you like an offering. 

you reach out to the one on the right, slowly tracing down the curve, flins sighing out at the contact. 

you reach down to a group of rustled feathers, running your fingers through the soft appendages as the man in front of you shuffles closer, his wing leaning into the touch. 

you feel the ends of his wings at the small of your back, bringing you even closer to him. the intimacy is not lost on you, the way his eyes are peering into yours and how his hands have found purchase against your biceps. 

he rests his head against your neck, making you tense at the sudden contact. 

“my apologies. are you uncomfortable?” flins asks. you have the suspicion, however, that he already knows your response. 

“no, no… just surprised is all.” you reply, distracting yourself by carding through both his wings now and feeling his feathers individually flutter at the welcome intrusion. 

you remember him saying before that having a relationship with a cupid was forbidden. 

so what was this, then? 

maybe he was playing with you, toying with you because he knows how badly he affects you. perhaps he knows that he’s in the forefront of your mind constantly, that you stopped walking through the cemetery for the place itself and now walk for the guide.

but you refuse to believe that, refuse to believe that the kind person who divulged his secret to you would hurt you like that. 

because maybe, just maybe, he’s doing this for the same reason you’re complying. 

“you’re beautiful,” you hear flins say, finding him staring at you again. 

“do you really believe so?” 

how had this happened? 

he nods, “i do.” 

he bristles as you brush over a sensitive spot, making you rub circles over the area, just to get another reaction from him. 

in response, he kisses you. almost. barely brushing his lips against yours, you feel him smile mischievously before trailing down to kiss your jaw, down to your neck. 

with a sudden burst of confidence, you tangle a hand in his hair, tugging at the strands just enough to meet his lips again, swallowing his sharp intake of air. you relish in the reaction he gave, kissing him fully as he melts into the embrace. 

his wings hug you, flins sighing into the kiss as you run a hand over that same spot from earlier, his own hands moving to take place at your waist. 

yes, he’s doing this for the same reason you are. 

forbidden, yes, but love all the same. 

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

extremely analytical. dissects a pair before shooting and sometimes adds some spice into them, like a criminal and a detective together. that’s bound to cause some mayhem, but it’s just how he likes it.

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

you are that criminal, and he is that detective. he’s basically hurting himself twice over, first as a detective being in love with a person he’s supposed to throw in jail, and second as a cupid being in love with a human. you found out about him being a cupid, and that was because maybe he’s more comfortable with you than he’s ready to admit. despite it all, interacting with you is entertaining, so the best he can give is a cat and mouse chase with very, very tense and ignored attraction between both parties.

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

it was late into the night, a time heizou should be in bed, but instead he’s up chasing a clue an anonymous person mailed him about your whereabouts.

to be inconspicuous, he’s flying around in the sky invisible to the naked eye. he has a hunch on who sent him the direction, and that has him soaring faster.

he slows to a stop at the aforementioned destination, diving down and gracefully touching the ground beneath him as he sees you pacing around, willing himself to be visible right behind you. his hands place themselves on your shoulders as he whispers into your ear,

“miss me?”

you jump, elbowing him fast and direct in the side as a response. he yelps out as he backs away, clearly facing you as you turn.

“i thought i warned you to stop doing that?” you say with faux annoyance, a smile still finding its way onto your face.

he rubs the area you hit him before fluffing his wings and gifting you a plethora of feathers in your face.

“ugh, heizou! you little—!!” you pause your frantic actions of swatting away the feathers he bestowed as he reaches a hand to the top of your head, brushing some off that were stuck in your hair. your words are caught in your throat, the sudden gentle action catching you off guard.

his hand trails down to the side of your face, resting there as his thumb begins tracing patterns like an instinct.

“something’s on your mind.”

you hate how perceiving he can be sometimes, reading you perfectly without any hesitation or doubt. he’s too cocky with this skill of his, you think.

you simply shake your head no, which obviously doesn’t suffice.

“your brows are a bit furrowed, your quips are less frequent and unenthusiastic, and you haven’t done any of your trademark taunting,” heizou claims, “what’s wrong?”

you can’t help the warming of your face as you look away from his piercing eyes.

“you said before that cupids are prohibited from having a romantic relationship with human beings, right?”

heizou nods, “correct.”

“so why do you keep looking for me?”

it’s his turn to pause, and you can predict what he’s about to say.

“well, as a reminder, i am a detective. and you are a criminal, technically, even if your motives are far from malicious, but—”

“heizou,” you cut him off, “you know what i mean.”

he smiles coolly, guiding you to look at him again. “because a little thief stole my heart, and i need to get it back.”

you roll your eyes despite the understood meaning behind his words. “that’s really cheesy.”

“i don’t think you really mind,” he says, squeezing your face a little to press his point.

you grumble a small “shut up,” before seriously asking, “but… why, though? you know it’s prohibited, at least, you made it sound like a really strict rule… so why break it, you of all people?”

you feel his other hand come to squeeze your bicep lightly, “i sometimes wonder that myself. i guess the idea of the forbidden truly does attract people.”

he’s closer than before, you notice. you almost feel like pulling away for his sake, to save him the consequences or the regret. to save yourself from the embarrassment from when he’ll eventually recollect his senses, this whole chase stopping forever.

you make up your mind and let him softly kiss you.

you can feel the passion behind it. it sparks a thought of the finality of his actions. maybe it’s his way of saying goodbye, to end this. for the both of you.

he tugs you closer, deepening the kiss as you run a hand through his hair. if this is the last you’ll ever get to see of him…

he pulls away a little suddenly, looking into your eyes.

“i know what you’re thinking.”

you smile somewhat bittersweetly. “of course you do.”

he smiles back; his more confident, more sure. leaning in, you think he’s about to kiss you again…

you hear a click of metal around your wrist.

“… i’m not going anywhere. you, however!”

you scoff at the handcuff now trapping you to him, your expression now turning sly. “really, heizou…”

you push him to the ground.

“hey!—”

you dip down to his ear, whispering something simple.

“you wish.”

and you slip out of the cuffs, beginning the chase once again.

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

swings and misses and forms accidental couples. but sometimes these accidental couples can turn out to be accidental greatness, because sometimes even the most dysfunctional pairings at eye view can turn out to be the most suited together.

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

it all started when he shot you by accident and started rolling with the idea, only for you to wonder why this random stranger was badgering you to go for another stranger who you’ve only seen when you go on shopping trips that you find mildly attractive. cue itto revealing through stumbled, irrational, quick fire words to save face that he’s a cupid and not some weirdo at all. odd way to start a relationship for sure. you didn’t quite believe that a guy like him could be a cupid, so from that day on itto persistently brought you along his missions in order to prove it, inadvertently digging a hole for himself as he began truly talking to you and feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. so despite your start, you have a tight-knit relationship, something itto desperately wants to change into something more.

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

“itto… are you sure about this?” you glance down the cliff. you’re so far up that it makes your breathing somewhat shallow.

“of course!” he laughs boisterously. “trust me, i’ve got the largest wings out of all the cupids, this’ll be a piece o’ cake!”

he swiftly picks you up bridal style as you yelp.

and without being able to think things over, he jumps.

clinging onto him for dear life, you scream as loud as humanly possible as the drop yanks your breath away. even from beneath your eyelids you can see the light, apart from the glow emitting from itto.

when you actually think you’re about to faint, itto flaps his wings midway through the drop and starts flying in place— a chance to catch your breath before he zooms straight ahead through the skies.

“itto!” you yelp.

you hug him as tightly as you’re able to without going limp, vaguely thinking about how you’re able to feel his muscular build so distinctly.

“c’mon! take a look at the view!” itto yells over the winds.

you let yourself take a small peek at the view when you get over the feeling of retching, focusing on the sound of itto’s laughter as you shakily move.

the view is stunning.

the mountains stretched out below connected to the plains adorned with stretches of forest and wildlife, the pristine waters running through the landscape and flowing endlessly. if your face weren’t so numb, your jaw would be dropped.

itto stops, flying easily in the sky as he holds you protectively in a static movement.

you inhale deeply. you’re still so high up, but now that you’re not speeding through the skies…

you look up at itto. he’s staring deeply at you, seemingly lost in thought. you want to smile at how serious he looks in the moment, the emotion hardly befitting for someone like him.

he opens his mouth only to shut it immediately after.

“is something wrong?” you ask.

“i really want to kiss you right now.” itto blurts.

your eyes widen.

“i, i mean, i really want to… miss… pi…di… diss! your hair is a mess. i mean, you still look good, though… wait…”

you cut him off with a small laugh. “… even now, you’re not too good at this cupid thing, are you?”

“wha— of course i am! i’m great—”

you shake your head in tired disbelief. “you… kind of… confessed to me.”

“so?”

“that’s… isn’t that not allowed?”

“huh, says who?” itto says, confidence exuding as he speaks loudly even though you’re the only one listening. “i dunno if you’ve noticed, but i’m kind of a big deal— i don’t listen to any rules except for the rules i give to myself. except for you, and shinobu i s’ppose… and—”

you roll your eyes and kiss him, cutting off his yelp as he (thankfully) holds you tighter. despite his shakiness, he holds you with a death grip, refusing to drop you even with his excitement, eventually kissing you back.

when you separate, you take note of his flushed face.

a gigantic smile grows on his face, the giddiness apparent in his voice. “i— you just, we just!”

you smile back, albeit shakily. “we did— please don’t drop me.”

“(name),” itto breathes, “you trust me, right?”

you nod, a bit out of it, maybe from the enveloping scenery, maybe from the sudden kiss, maybe from how high up you are. “i… do—! itto!!”

in an instant, he drops you suddenly to hold you by the waist, flipping you both upside down in the sky, the ground hundreds away now feeling a lot farther.

your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as they were before, the closeness not being lost on you.

“normal kisses are boring! let’s do something more… flamboyant!”

you find yourself laughing even with the precarious circumstances, and he dips back to your lips and holds you even closer.

it’s ironic. you feel safe, even as the ground seems so much farther away from your cloud nine.

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

naturally charismatic and smooth talks his way into people’s hearts purely by accident before giving them to someone else. unfortunately, he’s off the table…

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

a thin line between ‘just friends’ and ‘in love’. outsiders see plenty of flirty banter, while you two see a wall. something that you can’t cross completely because crossing would mean never turning back, and that’s an idea kaeya cannot do because it’s prohibited. so he lets you come close, be in his space. but never beyond that line of friendship, even if he wishes you both could cross it.

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

kaeya was feeling more troubled than usual.

perhaps it was because of yesterday when he almost kissed you when under the influence, maybe it was the way you lingered in his office in the morning.

he downs a shot, diluc glancing over at him as the captain signals for a refill.

just a few hours ago, kaeya launched one arrow into one of his subordinates and another one in you— perhaps one of the hardest decisions he’s ever had to make.

he gives a hefty sigh, hand on his forehead as he wonders if doing that was the right thing to do. on one hand, it’d be easier to keep himself and his feelings away from you, momentary pain would be better to feel now rather than in the long run. however…

… he dreaded having to witness the consequences of his actions. you flirting with that other knight. you coming to kaeya to change your patrols to be with that other knight. you clinging, kissing, maybe one day marrying—

“kaeya? hey, are you okay? don’t tell me you’re drunk…”

he whips his head around at the voice, and lo and behold, it’s you. thankfully, that other knight was nowhere to be seen.

you slide into the stool next to him, kaeya a little mesmerized, most definitely more than out of it. the sight of you acting normally does somewhat sober him, prompting him to offer a charming smile.

it quickly dissipates, however, upon the sight of that knight coming up. he taps your shoulder, diverting your attention from kaeya.

this is what was supposed to happen, right?

so, why does he feel like barging in on your moment?

kaeya forces himself to turn away, facing the counter as diluc comes into view.

“have you changed your mind?” diluc calmly says, quiet enough for only kaeya to hear as you’re busy with the knight.

“you know i can’t,” kaeya mutters, “as much as i’d like…”

he finds himself glancing over to you chatting happily, your companion’s face a little flushed.

diluc simply raises a brow, leaving to go tend to another matter in the tavern.

kaeya plasters on his usual, easygoing smile again as he faces you both, awaiting a break in conversation before interrupting.

“(name), feel free to order a drink on my tab. i hardly believe you came here only to talk.” he manages in an even tone, a small bite escaping near the end.

you chuckle a bit. “you’re going to have to pay that off someday, you know.”

kaeya laughs, even if he’s used to that tease you use more often than you realize. “not today, it seems. diluc appears to be in a rather good-spirited mood.”

at the mention of his name, diluc makes his way over. “what would you like tonight?”

kaeya thinks he’s doing pretty well. maybe it was the alcohol numbing his senses, helping him be able to get through tonight without reaching for the reversing solution— that would ‘reverse’ the affects of the arrow kaeya shot— just yet.

he risks a look at you and the knight again.

you’re a lot closer, he notes.

in fact… you look as if you’re about to kiss the guy.

and in that second, kaeya folds.

eyeing diluc rather pointedly, he gets the message across, earning an eye-rolling from diluc as he takes the special vial out, pouring the contents into your drink and then to the knight’s.

slamming the drinks on the counter and effectively interrupting your moment, diluc departs with a plain, “enjoy.”

as soon as you finish it, kaeya steps off from his seat and takes your hand gently.

“it’s getting late, wouldn’t want you getting wasted without anyone to take you home. shall we leave?”

he’ll apologize eventually, he’ll tell you everything eventually.

but for now, he’s taking you home.

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

probably the best (not biased) cupid you could have by your side. everything comes easily with him and how he guides his pairs together, he’s a natural. the only problem he has is how lonely it makes him feel sometimes… but perhaps that’s why he works so hard to bring people together.

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

you met on the alcor, and ever since then you’ve created a routine of meeting him either late at night or in the wee hours of the morning up in the crow’s nest. it’s easy to confide in you and to carry conversations throughout the hours, and you grew to be sealed in a special place in his heart. maybe too special.

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

the breeze flies through the party on the alcor’s deck, people drunk out of their minds as a new day approaches.

you hear kazuha hiccup, drunk and draped over your back as you trudge to his room.

“where are we going?” you hear him slur quietly, nuzzling into your shoulder.

“your room,” you stop in front of his door, struggling to open it with kazuha hugging you so tightly, but eventually manage.

you walk in and shut the door behind you. you notice there’s more papers scattered about, likely an assortment of abandoned poems. his small snores catch your attention.

you lightly nudge your head against his. “kazuha, wake up for a bit, please.”

his eyes flutter open after a few as you back up into his bed, waiting for him to get the message. he seems to understand and falls back, but not without grasping onto your shirt.

you gently remove his fingers, turning around to face him. he’s sitting, staring up at you like you’re the multitude of stars he finds himself admiring every night, no matter how many times he’s done so.

“are you,” kazuha hiccups, “leaving?”

“i… am,” you (hesitantly) affirm, “i’m pretty tired…”

kazuha squeezes your hand. “then, stay? we can sleep together.”

you feel heat creeping up your neck. “you mean… sleep in the same bed, right? not… nevermind.”

you recognize the feelings inside you wanting to stay, but your rational mind warns you that by doing so would mean having to deal with the situation in the morning, with him sober.

you glance away for a second, from the kazuha before you that’s vulnerable and appearing ready to spout something out but unable to, this side of him you rarely get to see.

you find yourself sitting next to him, holding a hand of his as you speak softly. “i… don’t think i should. but i can stay until you fall asleep.”

you catch him staring at you with that expression again. “more?”

“more?…”

“can you stay more?” his words are a little mushed but still so yearning, prompting a smile to appear on your face.

you shut your eyes and sigh, “i guess i could…”

when you look at him again, he seems closer than before.

he utters your name so reverently, “i…”

a serious expression replaced the wanting features he wore before, like a sobering sense of reality finally sunk in.

“‘m sorry.” he simply says.

“for?…” you say in return.

it’s quiet. he seems to ponder something, shakes his head, and lies properly on the bed, tugging you down with him.

it’s warm, sharing a bed with someone else. especially when that someone tucks you under his head, holding you close like you’ll disappear from him too.

“…goodnight.” he whispers, his voice the clearest you’ve heard since you found him drunk, draped over a table and half-asleep.

“goodnight,” you return, wondering why his behavior seemed so final.

you’re not able to ask as he quickly falls to slumber.

morning arrives fast, considering it was in the early hours of the morning when you fell asleep.

kazuha’s up first. he opens his eyes, wincing at the memories flooding in from last night. his head hurts, a dull pounding scattering his concentration. he registers that someone’s in his arms.

he can feel his face start to warm as he remembers.

he remembers wanting to kiss you. he remembers how dangerously close he was to confessing. he remembers how he wanted to confess everything— how he felt, his job as a cupid, how he wanted to be with you so badly it hurt his heart whenever he thought of you.

kazuha intakes a large breath of air, slowly letting it out as he recollects his thoughts.

even with his conflicting thoughts, he finds himself holding you tighter, before pulling away slowly. you stir in your sleep, eyes opening as you see kazuha standing next to the bed.

you feel like panicking, even as he apologizes for waking you up. he seems so far away, even though he’s so physically near.

you sit up, staring at the man before you.

“i apologize for my actions in my drunken state. were you uncomfortable?” he asks sheepishly.

you shake your head no, wondering if you should address how distant he seems. instead, you find yourself cupping his face in a daze.

“(name)?…” kazuha says quietly, his voice light as he covers your hands with his own.

he had enough time to back away, to state that he didn’t like what you were doing, just to save himself from these feelings he created— but instead, as you lean closer to him, he gracefully accepts your lips on his.

it’s soft, something so warming with passion along unspoken words to each other. it ends too soon, kazuha pulling away with an even softer look in his eyes.

“please don’t leave.” you say before you can think.

kazuha’s torn. you know something’s up, you know him so well from the time you’ve known each other.

he could very well lose his title of cupid and his own being. his mind berates him with these words, but in the end his heart makes the decision.

he gently kisses you again.

he will stay.

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

tactical, cool headed and takes his time when pairing those he thinks are fit together. a stark contrast to ajaw who’s far from the not so easily swayed demeanor kinich exudes, instead opting for hotheadedness and irrational decisions. 

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

it took a long while to crack through his exterior, to cross that bridge from being just another friend to something deeper, dangerous. you’ve had too many close encounters like that, too near what was considered prohibited. moments where proximities tested patience, moments where your lips are so close a simple movement would join them together (mostly because of ajaw who “doesn’t believe in the rule”)— it all serves as a reminder. a reminder that when it comes to you, he’ll do anything, as weak as it makes him out to be. 

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

“KINICH! are you paying attention?! did you hear ANYTHING i just said?!” 

kinich sighs, “be quiet, ajaw.” 

“you’re thinking of (NAME) again, AREN’T YOU? how PATHETIC! KINICH, ogling over a HUMAN! if the rule weren’t so STUPID, i’d tell the ARCHONS!” ajaw fulminates. 

kinich looks over. “no, the reason why you haven’t told them is because if you did, we both wouldn’t be able to see (name) ever again. i know you like them too.” 

ajaw huffs. “WELL, UNLIKE YOU, I WOULD CONFESS IF I WERE THAT DEEPLY IN LOVE!” 

kinich tunes him out with the rest of his insults along the lines of “YOU COWARD!!” and “YOU’RE BLIND IF YOU…” echoing in his ears. 

he wonders what you’re doing right now. he wishes you were with him instead of his current partner, but maybe some separation would do him some help considering… 

“—  EVEN THE GOLDEN ARROWS OF THE ARCHONS WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO OVERCOME YOUR COWARDICE!!” 

kinich slaps ajaw away, the dragon flying away into the sky with aggravated yelling. 

though, the dragon’s last words still replayed across his mind… 

… especially as a lustrous arrow-like weapon hits him a few moments later. 

it’s dark out when you find kinich. hunched, elbow balanced on a knee as his eyes, unfocused, stare at the ground. 

of course, you run over. sitting next to him, you notice the slight sheen of sweat on his head, slightly out of breath. maybe he just got done with a commission? 

“kinich! hey, are you okay?…” you place a hand on his shoulder, his body immediately tensing. you lift to take it back, only for him to take your wrist halfway.

he lets go with a small mutter of an apology, still not looking you in the eyes. 

he says nothing; but you notice the way he shifts away when you come too close, how on edge he suddenly seems to be. 

you frown. 

“kinich…” 

he shakes his head and wincingly speaks. “you should go home…” 

it makes your heart pang with a little hurt before pushing through, slowly and gently taking his hand in yours as he curls his fingers with yours, despite the words he last said. 

“only if you go with me,” you say without much thought put into the implications. 

kinich tightens his grip on your hand, not to a suffocating point, but noticeable. 

he lets you come close. 

and just like so many times before, you’re in a dangerous situation. 

but this time, there’s no one to interrupt. 

kinich feel weak reaching out to you, cupping your face purely by instinct, his keen, intellect ridden thinking overrun with you. 

and the words, poisonous coming from him, “kiss me?” are the product. 

your eyes grow, looking at him with such surprise in contrast to his stoicism, hiding beneath some sort of suffering, a yearning to be loved. it hurt, it hurts. 

but he’d suffer eons if it meant he could experience that love, even just once. such as in the moment where your lips come to his, featherlight in ministration, like you’re testing how far the fall is. 

he’s the one who deepens it, leaning into you as the moment seems to last for so long, just as he wants it to be. 

after all, his yearning must come with some price, no?

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

the epitome of love at first sight. but also the epitome of hate at first sight. when you spot someone and immediately fall in love, lyney’s at work. he’s a rather romantic person, after all. if you spot someone and immediately want to wring their throat, lyney’s also to blame. although he prefers the former, he is a part of the fatui. what can be done?

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

ironically, love at first sight. only on his end, however. you… saw differently. perhaps someone was messing with him, because you seemed to dislike him from the get go. taste of his own medicine, huh? that dislike transformed into something deeper, akin to hate, as he began breaking up you and whoever you were romantically involved with. he thought he was being subtle, too… now, he spends his time flirting with and dedicating his shows to you, hoping that maybe one day things will change.

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

it was late out, a time you’d rather have spent at home. however, your friend decided it’d be a great idea to go to a magic show happening around that time, dragging you along despite your protests.

even now, seeing the magicians performing on stage makes your blood simmer. you can see the smug glint in his eyes and even his less expressive sister has a knowing look in hers. you know they see you.

and yet, despite the clear distaste you’ve made clear for the pair, lyney still throws you that same rainbow rose bouquet he throws every single time you (somehow, usually by force) attend his shows. even if the gesture makes you feel even more taunted, you still can’t help but feel the action to be a little… heartwarming. you feel your face uncomfortably heat up.

you can barely hear nor see the people around you, their stares nonexistent as you narrow in on the stage, at lyney. he stares right back, but the intent behind his gaze is noticeably different than yours.

“you know, i think he’s into you! you’re so lucky!”

you excuse yourself from your friend.

you need some air, away from the crowd, away from their piercing— and you find yourself leaning against a far alleyway wall, heart beating uncontrollably as you recall that soft look in his eyes. you shake your head from those thoughts, shifting to look at his gift in your hand.

it’s quiet, the only interruptions being the small echoes of cheers from the magic show. it’s almost over, you can tell.

you feel your fingers slowly curl deeper into the bouquet you’re holding, choking the pretty flowers as a few petals make their way to the ground. you toss it, the main vessel joining its shedding.

“oh, dear.”

you instinctively wince, head rising to meet the voice of the one you heard speak. you recognize it, and it makes you feel a little sicker.

“you don’t appreciate my gift, i take it?” lyney eyes the mess on the ground, flowers strewn all around lying on top the ribbon holding them together, colored your favorite.

“i’d love it if it were from anyone else but you.” you immediately jab.

he dramatically brings the back of his hand to his head as if going through a fainting spell. “oh, mon amor, you wound me so…”

“don’t even,” you cut in, “i’m sure your sister must be looking for you—”

“lynette is preoccupied with cleaning the stage and knows well about my absence.” lyney smiles, but you feel far from eased by the gesture. you notice the small hint of sadness beneath the mask, and wonder what’s really going on.

despite wanting to ask, you feel your eye twitch. “what do you want, exactly?”

his expression morphs into something more serious, genuine. he slowly tips his hat off, holding it to his chest as he locks eyes unwaveringly, intensely.

“i’ve been… pondering. reflecting, as of late… about my actions towards you from before. i never truly apologized, have i?”

you look at him strangely despite the words from his mouth being in the same tongue, simple meaning, easy to comprehend; but the things you want to say in reply escape you.

you remember them so clearly, the memories of previous lovers not lasting because of the man in front of you playing some part in the relationships’ demise. you have had nights struggling over his actions, thoughts keeping you awake as insecurities bubbled and everything seemed to overflow. it comes to mind that what he’s saying is true. he never quite said a sort of sorry for everything, despite “pursuing” you today.

“… no, you haven’t.”

he almost reaches for you, but thinks twice. “I’m sorry, truly, for causing you all the pain you must’ve gone through because of my actions.”

you divert your eyes as you find yourself mumbling, “why are you apologizing now?”

lyney risks a step forward, ending right in front of you. “when you were looking— glaring— at me from the audience, i felt… felt a certain sorrow. that perhaps… i was simply forcing you to be someone that i can never achieve or be lucky enough to have.

i know my attempts seem unserious… but when i broke your relationships back then…”

“lyney,” you interrupt softer than you intended, “were you… jealous?”

he ceases to look you in the eyes.

“you’re… that’s a petty, stupid thing to do, you know that, right?” you chide, eyes wide in disbelief. all these years, you had believed his flirting, those breakups— all to make fun of you, have some fun at your own expense. but…

“love is blind, i can attest to that.”

before you realize it, you’re pulling lyney in, his back against the brick wall as he breathes a small, sharp intake of air.

he gives a small smirk despite being the one trapped. “oh? and to think you seemed to hate me just a few moments ago. did i play my cards to your liking?”

“were you serious?” you ask, not replying to his statements. “do… do you actually—”

lyney puts a finger to your lips, infuriatingly light with a small teasing tone of voice. “nothing but the truth.”

and that’s all it takes to have your lips on his, kissing him so unlike the embraces you’ve experienced before, this filled with a certain kind of passion that fills the memories you once held as ammo for your hate for the magician you’re locking with in an alleyway.

it makes you almost laugh at the irony, at the contrast.

you feel lyney’s hands trail to your waist, pulling you closer as you wrap your arms around his neck, before slowly pulling away for some air. he chases after you even as you lean away for a little, until the sound of footsteps makes you both halter.

you pull him back and duck quickly behind the nearby trash bin, thankfully tall and wide enough to block any view of you two, as the footsteps fade into the darkness of the night, small calls of your name being heard.

only small intakes of breath can be heard as you both catch your breaths, a small giggle leaving you.

“that’s… my friend. we… we should go, huh?” you say, a little short of breath. “i’m sure lynette’s—”

“they can wait,” lyney tugs you onto him. “please?”

how were you ever able to resist him before?

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

breaks couples up for the fun of it, sometimes with good intentions and sometimes with non-justifiable reasons. he yanks out the worst in people, clouds people’s judgements, makes it so that fixable problems turn into bigger dilemmas. a pain is what he is.

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

he hates you. his first time meeting you was when he was in the middle of instigating a breakup. it was going pretty well until you bumped in, smoothing everything out the quickest he’s ever seen someone do. so, he avoided you. but you kept mending whatever relationships he’d try to break up in your area. and sure, he says he hates it, but the fact that he still stays in your area suggests something. with that said, you’ve known each other for quite a long time.

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

he heard you got a boyfriend.

so, he formed a plan.

he waited for a few weeks, just to let your new “phase” become a more familiar part of your life.

then he shot his arrows at your boyfriend only, just to make the pain hurt more on your end. unrequited love was always bitter, satisfying to him, after all.

for the next couple weeks, he began feeding your boyfriend information about yourself that was exaggerated in the worst way possible, well fabricated falsities, anything that would make him leave.

it was supposed to be liberating, seeing the day your boyfriend finally ended it. scaramouche was invisible to your eyes, floating in the skies above as the confrontation happened, and when that guy left you standing frozen in place, he thought he’d relish in seeing your tears, the sadness that always came with breakups like this. you still had feelings for your now ex, after all.

but instead…

you had just gone through a messy breakup. you couldn’t help crumpling to the ground, sitting and furiously wiping your face whose tears just kept coming.

you stopped wiping them when they wouldn’t stop. you let them fall, let the world around you fade as you sat, disassociated.

you hear a rustle come from nearby.

behind a tree comes him.

scaramouche, an infuriating jerk who you’ve only interacted with through bitter insults and counteracting whatever pleasure he gets from wanting to break people up. you’ve never seen a softer side of him, never seen a reason to try, up until today.

you watch him cautiously as he sits down next to you.

“what do you want?” you say as coldly as you can, but you’re too exhausted to muster up any sort of intense emotion.

“… you’re crying.” he states.

“… no kidding?”

“do you… want to talk about it?”

you let the awkward silence sink in before addressing what he just said.

“… really, when you’re probably behind this? leave me alone, scaramouche.”

you sniff, turning your head away from him.

he scoffs. “as always, you’re being such a brat.”

when you don’t give him a reply, he moves to where you’re facing.

slowly, he cups your face. you almost flinch in response, but his hold on you is almost… comforting, in a way.

“you’re ugly when you cry.” he says, wiping away your remaining tears.

you huff, “that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

this time, he doesn’t respond as he wordlessly keeps your face held by his hands. your eyes are dried by now, but everything still lingers.

“you did this.”

scaramouche looks away from you, contemplating. “it’s not like he was a good boyfriend to you.”

“how would you know?” you look at him with a glare, albeit with some curiosity.

“it doesn’t matter.”

“i think it does, what, were you jealous?” you challenge, making scaramouche sigh as he looks you in the eye. it’s a little intimidating, but you meet him head on.

“the audacity to even suggest something like that.” he mutters, containing less of his usual bite.

“you’re still holding my face.”

he’s silent.

“i hate you so much,” he starts. you’re about to retaliate before he continues.

“does he know you hate the restaurant you always go to on dates?”

“wha—?”

“does he know,” he cuts you off, “that you take the long route home from that restaurant because you like the scenery and hate the muddy roads through the other path?”

“no,” you butt in. “so how do you know?”

“like i said, it doesn’t matter. what matters is that he was stupid and you shouldn’t be crying over him.”

you feel your eyes widen.

then it hits you.

something literally hits you. pierces, to be exact. but you don’t feel pain. you feel the opposite, you feel the warming in your chest, your face growing hot and your vision turning dizzy.

scaramouche’s still holding your face, his own eyes blown open as you process the sudden spike in heat from his hands.

you hear him curse under his breath.

neither of you makes a move as the symptoms fully sink in.

you find yourself bringing your hands to his porcelain face, feeling him shiver.

and before you can fully think, both you and scaramouche lean in at the same time.

when you press your lips against each other, it’s soft, delicate, like you both are testing the waters without rippling through it. you feel him sigh into the kiss, the action making you move a hand to the back of his neck. it quickly becomes more desperate than you intend.

you hear someone stutter your name as you pull away from scaramouche, recognizing the voice.

it’s your ex.

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

somewhat traditional and a tad bit cheesy with how he matchmakes, but there’s nothing wrong with that! known as “the fixer” because he fixes up relationships and helps them stay fixed.

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

really, really, unfortunately likes you. he’s been caught daydreaming on countless occasions, gives you homemade and purchased gifts he knows you like, sees you in places and things that remind him of you— all to be reminded of his place in the grand scheme of things. he knows, he’s falling too hard for someone he can’t have. but for some reason, he can’t stop.

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

so, maybe he likes— loves— you a lot. 

and… loving sometimes means having to make sacrifices to keep your loved ones happier for the future. that’s what he thinks, at least. 

a cupid loving a human wasn’t normal, wouldn’t be good in the long run. therefore…

“what’s my type?” 

thoma nods, an awkward laugh leaving him. “yeah, um, i was just wondering…” 

you smile teasingly. “okay, let me think.” 

“take your time,” thoma nods, looking anywhere but you else he might fold from the expression you’re giving him. calculating, knowing. he can feel himself fluster, face turning warm under your staring. 

you hum. “personality-wise… someone caring, loyal… too kind for his own good while still having a playful side.”

“i-i see…” thoma says. he thinks for a sliver of second that your description matches terms many have used to describe him, and his heart flutters more rapidly than he appreciates while sinking all the same. “and looks-wise?” 

you inch closer to him, he notices all too well. “hm, strawberry-blonde hair… green eyes… tall…” 

thoma feels his heart jump higher and higher to his throat. you’re close, closer than before…

“are you… describing someone in particular?” thoma manages, an easygoing smile masking how badly he wants to pull you in at the moment, to profess his love for you, to be able to be with you forever… 

your expression falters slightly. “i am, actually…” 

“are you, by any chance…” he trails off, this wasn’t supposed to happen, he’s letting his feelings get in the way again—

you place a hand on his chest, no doubt feeling how hard his heart hammers. “i was describing you, you know.” 

thoma’s breathing hitches. he wants to confess right then and there, to pour his whole heart out, but all he can get out are a couple stutters because this shouldn’t be happening. 

it shouldn’t, it’s prohibited, but he lets you cup his face anyways, his hands ghosting over your biceps unsure of how to continue. 

“thoma… are you okay? you… don’t have to reciprocate…” you say, worry prominent in your tone. he can hear the underlying dolor with your words, and thoma wants to beat himself up for being the cause. 

he makes up his mind.

running his hands down to your waist, thoma pulls you against him and kisses you tenderly, softly; the immediate elation filling him up. he thinks that nothing else can compare to the happiness overwhelming him at the moment as your lips move as easily against his, your thumb caressing his face so sweetly. 

even when you separate, it’s slow, a small lean away with your breaths still able to intermingle. his lips tingle, and he dips down again, only to be stopped by your finger. 

your eyes crease. “i take it you feel the same?” 

thoma laughs, gentle and warm sounding. “i do, of course i do.” 

and when he kisses you again, he knows for sure he’s a goner. 

he fell too easily, too hard.

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

works with botany to make relationships bloom (haha). known to make people spontaneously smell better with his specialized perfumes and colognes when around their other half and creates unique atmospheres that a simple candle couldn’t create with his own blends of incenses. and the meals he makes on occasion… well, he knows a very powerful spice that leaves those who eat his food rather infatuated.

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

it started out merely as earthly coworkers, but he developed feelings as you went on more expeditions and patrols together. he buried them down, however, sticking to the opportunities he’s already been gifted. he already got special permission to be stationed near the forest he so dearly wanted to be by, so faraway yearning will have to be enough.

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

it was on an expedition with you, tighnari, and two other rangers; them being apart of his current mission as a cupid.

he’d already shot them with his arrows, but them dancing around each other would hardly be named a job well done. they needed a stronger push, something like a concoction of his slipped into their food or something…

“‘nari, you awake in there?”

he hears you call out to him, gentle as ever. he wonders if you know how crazy that drives him.

he sets down the spoon that he’s been mindlessly stirring around against the pot.

“we may need more firewood. could you go look?”

you nod and scurry off, leaving tighnari sighing to himself. he glances at the two rangers beside the river gathering water, making sure they’re a good distance away. he then scoops a good serving of stew for the four bowls set out, sprinkling a special spice he made himself into two of them and stirring the mixtures as to conceal the extra ingredient.

his ear twitches as he hears you coming back along with the rangers, taking your bowl to hand to you.

you accept it with a smile as he warns it’s hot, joining him sitting as you dig into dinner.

he carefully watches the pair across from you out of the corner of his eye as he converses with you and, thankfully, things seem to be going well.

you suddenly stand up, diverting his attention to solely you. “ah, i don’t feel too well… i think i’m gonna go to bed early.”

tighnari nods, standing up beside you and taking your bowl slowly. “don’t feel too well… in what way? you didn’t do any unsupervised foraging, did you?” his voice reaches a sterner tone near the end.

you simply shake your head. “just… off. it’s nothing, really. probably just tired, it was a long day.”

he nods, “i see. sleep well, then.”

you thank him before going into your tent, tighnari puzzling over what could be the matter before refocusing to the job at hand.

eventually, as it grows darker and tighnari’s done cleaning up, the two rangers having gone into their agreed upon shared tent, he decides it’s a good time to head to bed as well. he heads into his own tent, unbeknownst to the next events about to occur.

you’re burning.

it feels akin to a fever, but you don’t feel sick. your mind feels a little fogged, but there’s one thing clear. you want to go see tighnari.

you exit your tent, stumbling a little. you stop outside his as you knock on the rock outside to alert him of your presence, hoping he won’t be too annoyed with you waking him up like this.

strangely, he seems to be awake already, and he unzips the tent rather quickly.

“(name)…” he mumbles, trailing off as you hug him. your skin’s unnaturally hot.

he hugs you with hesitancy. “i think someone put something into the soup.”

you nod, resting your head in his neck as he sighs.

“i think… i think you should go back to your tent,” tighnari says, but his actions betray him as he holds you tighter.

you simply shake your head no before adding, “can we sleep… in the same tent tonight?”

“you know that’s…”

you look up at him, conflicting emotions clear on his face as he brings a hand to the back of your head.

“please?” you ask again. he looks pretty, the moon shining over him as your heart pumps so fast with his.

something in him folds as he nods his head.

“… fine.”

he lets you go, the second he does so inviting emptiness as you sigh from the sudden flood. you enter the tent first as he holds the flaps open for you, following behind as you get comfortable on his bedding.

tighnari comes over and, despite his best efforts not to, goes back to holding you as he did before.

you think to yourself, with the last parts of your mind unclogged, maybe he’s only acting this way because of whatever was in the soup. you know you aren’t, considering your feelings for him, but that gives you the willpower to break out of his hold and sit upright.

he sits up too, confusion apparent on his face.

“i… don’t want you to go back to your original self tomorrow morning and regret the previous night.” you find yourself saying.

tighnari simply cups your face, eyes looking into yours.

“i’m immune to whatever was put in the soup. i feel… as normal as i can be right now.”

tighnari will regret tomorrow morning no matter what. but he’d do it again. and again and again and again, because he let himself fall like this.

“you mean it? then…” you can feel your own hands move to his shoulders, to the sides of his neck.

“i do.”

you’re now close, so close your lips would brush together with the smallest movement.

you both close the paper-thin gap at the same time. you relish in the satisfaction it gives, kissing tighnari like he’s a lifeline. almost desperate, untying.

you only break away to tell him, “i love you.”

tighnari, having heard those words so many times with the words being forbidden if from his mouth, responds very clearly.

“i love you, too.”

and he dives in again.

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

intimidating, to say the least, considering his large stature. his easygoing, carefree nature helps smooth over any existing problems, reliable in any scenario, even if it’s gone haywire. 

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

he’d never be able to pinpoint when and where you first began growing closer, just knowing you did at one point and its growth ever since. he finds himself doing all sorts of things unbefitting of a leader, from zoning out even more during paperwork to let thoughts of you accompany him instead to him sometimes trailing down to your lips to imagine what’d it’d be like kissing them. he’s smitten, yearning. to follow you would be irresponsible, however, dismissing how much he wants to do so anyways. 

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

there was only one bed. 

you and varka were on a mission, one that would take at least a couple days. it required a place to stay, a place that only had a few rooms left, all with a sole single bed. 

it was a bit of a tight fit, considering the man next to you taking up a large chunk of the space. you’re unable to lie next to each other without your arms touching, the heat emanating making you want to kick the blanket on top of you to the floor. 

“you alright? the offer still stands, y’know.” 

you peek over at varka in his simple tight fitting shirt and lounge pants, sitting up and gazing at you. 

this is the first good clear look you’ve gotten of him since he changed and, of course, you’re stunned. 

you only look away when he smirks. you expect a small quip or tease, but instead he stays quiet, only lying back down and sighing. 

this was varka lately. less boisterous, less  carefree, acquiring a mulling mindset that allowed him more space. 

your first guess at the cause of the shift was that it was a personal problem, something you avoided questioning him about while still giving your own support; only to realize it wasn’t that easy. 

you remember him still laughing, normal, around jean that one night in the tavern. 

it made you recognize, he was only different with you. 

two weeks you’ve seen him as his usual self around others, only abnormal around you. 

your expression changes as varka sighs, your heart slowly falling to your stomach. you sit up this time, the sheets pooling around you as you inhale slowly, letting go a drawn out exhale. 

“did… i do something?” 

varka takes a few to respond, the silence, even though brief, making you sweat all the same. 

“pardon?” 

you place a hand to your heart, feeling it beat erratically against its cage as you sneak a glance at him. 

“for… the past couple weeks, you’ve been acting strange. and please, don’t play dumb.” 

varka lifts himself up to mirror your stance, silent for a good couple seconds, probably contemplating his responses before he caves. 

“can’t get anything past you, can i?” he says with a gruff chuckle, more to ease the tension than out of humor. 

you look over at him, fully. a look of uncertainty plays on his face, a cruel dance. 

“so, what did i do?” 

he shakes his head, albeit hesitantly. it almost scared you, how incongruous he was being, how unsure. “i… can’t say.” 

you swing your legs over the bed. 

“… fine.” you wince at how harsh the word came out, making you backtrack. “sorry. i’m gonna go check to see if any other rooms opened up.” 

before you can push yourself off the sheets, you feel the bed dip as varka grasps your wrist.

“wait. sorry. i… i need to show you something.”

he waits until you’re facing him before continuing, hushed voice reaching your ears as a whisper. “i don’t want you beating yourself up about this, so pay attention, yeah? this is supposed to be a secret.” 

he trails his hands to yours, holding them delicately with his. as he shuts his eyes, a glow begins to surround his body, a warmth that seeps in you through your connected, intertwined fingers. 

two giant wings flap from his back, knocking the pillows on the bed to the floor and scattering the items on the nightstand nearby, finally being recalled to relax as he opens his eyes to peer into yours. 

“… varka?” 

“i’m a cupid. you’ve heard of those, haven’t you? listen. cupids… aren’t allowed to be in a romantic relationship. and i… caught feelings. for you.” 

your eyes soften as you listen, tightening your grip on his hands ever so slightly like he could disappear at any moment— which, you suppose, he really can. 

“my plan was to distance myself, at least a little at a time. but, i’m a weak man, aren’t i? i shouldn’t even be telling you all this, but… i couldn’t see you so down because of me.” 

“… i think a lot of people would disagree that you’re weak, you know.” you breathe, a little loss for words, a lot confused. 

“only for you,” he murmurs, less focus in his eyes, yet still aware of how dangerous the current situation is, you’re sure. “only for you.” 

you laugh, bittersweet while throwing out a rhetorical. “why did you tell me, confess to me, when i’m not even allowed to have you?”  

varka glides a hand to your chin as he barks out a curt laugh, tilting your vision up to look at him.

“i’m yours,” he leans a bit closer, wings enclosing you in an embrace. “it’s wrong, this is so wrong. but… you’re alluring. in a way i can’t ignore. it feels irresponsible, but if you felt the same way…” 

you lean forward, landing your lips on his. 

it’s sweet, slow, breathless all the same. 

you can feel varka’s hand fall from your chin down to your waist, pulling you closer to drink your lips. 

it’s risky, unsafe. but with your lips moving against his, he won’t, can’t, find himself saying so. 

yes, varka feels weak, almost unbearably so. weak-willed. undeniably whipped.

you separate for just a moment, enough time for you to say those sweet words, “i do— i do feel the same way.” 

and varka knows for sure— he was doomed from the start. 

꒰ঌ what kind of cupid are they? ໒꒱

he’s under a contract to work and doesn’t complain, even if the two jobs of slaying demons and matchmaking humans can put him some tedious and weighty stress. he does wonder if his entire life will forever consist of this. it’s… calm, but a part of him still remains restless. maybe one day he’ll be able to relax.

꒰ঌ your relationship? ໒꒱

you work in bubu pharmacy, making you see xiao a lot. an intimate relationship was formed after being his designated caretaker for a couple of months, and eventually he revealed that not only was he an adeptus, but a cupid as well. he realized he caught feelings only after a certain conversation with zhongli.

꒰ঌ so, what happens? ໒꒱

it’d been a month.

you were confused, to say the least. what happened? did you do something? was it because of what he told you?

it seemed that no matter how hard you tried to talk to him or even see him, he evaded everything.

you still notice how empty your route going home is, however. so despite the silent treatment you’ve been given, you know that he’s alive.

but… it still hurt.

you’re busying yourself by taking stock, ready to head home as soon as you finish. it’s quite dark out, but it clearly highlights the stars in the sky. it reminds you of xiao, of the countless nights you’ve spent fussing over him; seemingly over now for a reason you don’t know.

you find yourself still, hands gripping the drawer you have open. you shut it softly, a sigh leaving you.

you suddenly feel a familiar gust of wind behind you.

snapping your head around, you see xiao. for the first time in an entire month, he’s back.

he stumbles, your arms instinctively reaching out to his to balance him. he’s warm, you absentmindedly note.

“xiao? are you…”

he tilts his head forward into your collarbone, pulling you in like you’re his sole life source. your sentence dies on your tongue, his proximity being the only thing clear at the moment.

his head’s burning, hot to the touch as you wonder what’s got him acting like this. a fever?

“xiao, lie down on your bed.”

he makes no movement to do so. his grip simply tightens in reply, head shaking a “no.”

you huff and carefully guide him as best you can, sitting him on the bed as you place a hand on his forehead. it’s hot, as you expected. he shivers at the contact.

“you’re shaking.”

he nods, dryly swallowing. you notice. you straighten to go get him some water, only to be stopped by him tugging you back.

“i want you here,” he says hoarsely, voice drowning in hesitation as he keeps a hand tangled with yours.

you can feel your heart leaping into your throat.

you tug your hand away with little effort, seeing the frown that creases xiao’s face as you do so.

you give him a slight apologetic smile. “i’m getting water. i’ll be back.”

you get a glass and a damp cold cloth for his head. when you come back, he’s lying down, staring at the ceiling. he snaps out of his daze when you enter, though, and quickly sits up.

without speaking, you sit next to xiao on the bed and raise the glass of water to his lips, slightly tipping it for him to drink. he does so, albeit rather apprehensively. when he’s finished, you give him the cloth to place on his forehead. you’re about to get up, but you hear xiao say your name.

he waits until you’re looking at him before mumbling, “… i’m sorry.”

“for?”

“avoiding you for all this time. it was not a mature way to express my emotions… i… should have explained why.” he holds the cloth to his head, sighing at the small relief.

“so… what happened?” you ask.

the sheets rustle as xiao lies down. “the day i told you i was a cupid… i consulted zhongli about telling you. he said that i may have… deeper feelings for you.

“i am prohibited from having an intimate relationship with a mortal. but these symptoms i have… are alike the golden arrows that only the archons carry.”

you feel the tension building up as it sinks in, every word of his making the butterflies in your stomach stir. “you… an archon shot you? so… it’s like… they’re allowing it? and you came here?”

he shifts his gaze away from you.

“xiao, look at me?”

you come closer, hovering over his face.

he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move. he only brings a hand to your cheek, cupping your face as you near.

“may i?” you’re so close, mind dizzy as you hold his hands, one entangled with his as the other over his hand on your face.

he gives a curt nod before muttering a small, “please.”

you press your lips against his, his being hot to the touch. xiao sighs at the contact as his grip tightens ever so slightly.

you separate for just a moment, xiao chasing your lips as you do. you think that later you’ll tease him for how desperate he looks in this moment.

“i just need to make sure…” you start quietly. “you had feelings for me before you were shot?”

xiao nods. “you don’t need to worry. the arrow… only made it easier for me to tell you.”

you hum, going in to kiss him again, deeper.

and between each time through stuttered breaths, you hear him profess his feelings through three simple words.

“i love you.”

BONUS:

venti sighs, carefree and blissful.

he can pick up traces of cupids and humans here and there, obvious mixed and confounded emotions drifting all the way to him. perhaps he’ll help out later, but for now…

you trace the curves of his braids as his head stays placidly on your lap, moving delicately to his feathers that involuntarily flutter at the touch.

what would his fellow cupids say, seeing their archon in the lap of a mortal? a hypocrite he is for not following that age-old rule, for not being like his fellow archons upholding it to the fullest. or so he thinks, perhaps they too have something to hide.

he watches you tap your lips, “kiss me?”

it only takes so little to achieve paradise.

©️kazusys —do not plagiarize/steal, repost, translate, and/or claim any of my works as your own.

[awhkaiy]

When their mouth is on you and they're talking to you there.

Imagine if he spread you open with his thumbs—slow, deliberate—and just looked at first. Like he was starving and you were the first meal he'd seen in weeks. Like he wanted to commit the sight of you to memory: the wetness gleaming in the low light, the way you twitch under his gaze, the flush spreading across your skin.

He leans in close. Close enough that his breath ghosts hot and damp against your folds. Close enough that his lips brush you without kissing—teasing, torturing.

"Look at you," he murmurs, and the vibration makes you jerk, makes your hips chase his mouth instinctively. He pulls back just enough to deny you, and you whine—actually whine—at the loss of heat.

"So wet," he breathes, and you feel every word as pressure, as intimacy, as something worshipful. "So fucking pretty. Did you make this mess for me?"

His tongue drags slow from your entrance to your clit—flat, deliberate, devastating—and he groans against you, the sound vibrating through your core. He pulls back, chin shiny with you, and his eyes find yours over the plane of your stomach.

"You taste like something I dreamed about," he says, and leans back in. His mouth seals over you, sucking gently, and you arch off the mattress with a cry that sounds torn from your throat.

He pulls back again. Always pulling back to speak to you there, like he can't help himself, like he needs to articulate what you're doing to him.

"Sensitive," he observes, like he's cataloging your reactions, like they're precious. He traces your folds with one finger, spreading your wetness, circling your entrance with teasing pressure that makes you ache. "That's good. I want you sensitive. I want you feeling everything."

He pushes two fingers into you—slow, thick—and curls them against your wall while his mouth returns, licking broad and filthy. He speaks between strokes, between sucks, his lips brushing your clit with every word.

"You're taking me so well," he praises, voice wrecked, muffled against your flesh. "Look how you grip my fingers. So tight. So needy."

The words are crude but his tone is reverent, intimate, like he's conversing with the part of you that needs him most. He nips gently at your inner thigh—sharp, grounding—and soothes it with his tongue, open-mouthed and greedy. "Can you come for me?" he asks, not to your face but there, like he's asking your cunt directly, courting it, coaxing it. His tongue circles your clit, relentless. "Will you let me feel it? I want to taste it. I want to feel you pulse against my tongue while you're screaming my name."

He sucks you into his mouth—hard, demanding—and you cry out, hips bucking, fingers tangling in his hair to hold him there, there, don't you dare move. He moans against you, the vibration pushing you closer, and the sound is filthy, grateful, desperate.

"That's it," he encourages, words slurred, breath hot. "Give it to me. Give it to my mouth. I want it—I want you—"

When you come, he stays there, drinking you in, murmuring praise against your trembling flesh like prayer, like promise, like he's never leaving.

.