if I had to be specific, mitya’s scarf acting up and confessing to reader way before mitya could even come up with a plan.. (imagine mitya trying to think of how and when to confess to reader and behind his back his scarf is doing a heart motion everytime reader passes by LMAO)
mitya and his damn scarf 🧬 .✦ ݁˖
⟡ | "energy scientist" mitya x gn! reader
⟡ | pre-fic note: i love this request! thank you for being the first to send one in. please note this request is made before mitya's release and more information about his scarf has been revealed.
being one of mitya's subordinates and friends, you had come to develop endless questions about his scarf. was it sentient? did it yeild to his thoughts? did it have a mind of its own? so many damn questions, and yet every time mitya tried to answer, his scarf would step in.
"oh yeah it's really interesting really! so what it is--hey! stop choking me!" he'd cough out as you giggled slightly at his scarf's actions.
"it's okay if it doesn't want me to know; it's fine. at least there's one thing in this world that can keep you from spilling secrets all the time." you say, swirling your drink as you and mitya sat at the bar. his scarf's fingers finally slip off his throat and give you a small thumbs-up before holding itself out for a high-five. you indulge, which makes mitya pout.
"sometimes i think this scarf likes you more than me..." he mumbles under his breath, making you roll your eyes and pat his hand.
"well maybe it's cause he can't constantly tell that i'm about to spill high-security secrets to a person i just met," you say, laying your head on your hand as his scarf seemed to agree.
"ugh whatever..." what you didn't know however, is that his scarf had been trying to get on your good side as to help mitya finally confess his feelings that he's had for you for over a year now.
you laugh at his defeat, continuing to pet his head as mitya sighs into your touch. his scarf, out of mitya's eyesight, pointed at you, getting your attention.
you raise an eyebrow as it points at mitya's head, then making a small heart emote with its thumb and pointer finger, before landing on you. you tilted your head, confused at first. the scarf looks dejected, but continues to make the same three gestures as mitya sulks with his head on the bar.
"mitya? what is your scarf trying to tell me?" you ask, sparking mitya's curosity as he sits up and looks at his scarf. however, it simply went limp against his back as soon as mitya paid attention to it.
"what was it doing?" he asked, turning towards you as his scarf lit up again and did the gestures again, albeit a bit more... aggressively. it made a half-hearted expression, pointed at him, then at you. finally it clicked in your head...
mitya... hearts me???
your face almost combusted at how fast red spread across your face. mitya seemed concerned now, trying to ask you what was wrong.
"come on... don't leave me in the dark here you too... what was it trying to say??" mitya says, concern and fomo seeping through his tone as you turned away from him.
"it... it was making a heart expression... at me and then pointing at you..." you stated, feeling a bit shy at the revelation.
"oh."
mitya's face went completely blank, his big brain figuring it out instantly. he felt like he could die right here right now. maybe if he tried to come up with an idea he would trigger the curse of death and--
choking sounds came out of mitya again as you turned to see him fighting his scarf... again.
"okay! okay! i won't i won't!" he said as his scarf let go of his throat, reaching down to pull your stool closer to mitya, forcing proximity between you two.
"well.. uh.. this wasn't exactly how i was planning on asking you out... but since someone can spill secrets but i can't, would... you be interested in going on a date with me? a proper one, maybe to the theater?" he said, rubbing the back of his neck as a cute blush appeared on his face.
you looked at him as his scarf raised above his shoulder, giving you a thumbs up. you smiled softly, reaching out to grasp his hand.
"i would love to..." you said, and he swore that the smile that came over your face was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
— sleeping habits and positions with their special one;
[note.] — I know the harbingers already got the semi sleeping related scenarios with wake up, buttercup... but if soft as slumber will get me back to writing, I say it's a good sacrifice. SANDRONE DEBUT BTW I LOVE HER SO MUCH.
capitano himself needs little to no rest, like actually. he chooses to sleep to be close to you (and maybe provide protection, if there ever arrives the need for it.). but, if he ever were to make any requests — it’s to sleep light. there’s just something suffocating about heavy bedding. not to mention, he can substitute for the missing heat.
hold his hand, have your head on his chest, be a full on starfish. do whatever you please. capitano will have you sleep through the night regardless, especially if you’re a moving sleeper. you ain’t moving an inch once he has you in his embrace.
── 𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞
either sleeps eighteen hours a day or wakes up after half hour, there’s no in between for dottore. yes, he will retire to bed with you, but falling asleep is different territory. it’s just that his brain is too active all the time, sleeping included.
when he does indeed transform into a cat to replenish his energy, he wants the best. dottore might say he needs just the basics, but you have not seen the fluffiest of the blankets in months. that’s gotta say something.
── 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐚
could probably sleep anywhere, as long as she has you by her side. it’s very relaxing for her to have the soft accompaniment of your heartbeat as she’s humming to tire herself out. head on your chest, she is the biggest fan.
prefers to have the room be cold, by a long shot. maybe some lavender essential oils to calm the space down? only if you’re willing and not allergic. she wants nighttime to be a relaxing time for both of you. getting a skylight is definitely on her bucket list — ah, pretty stars…
── 𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐨
as fascinating as it is, nighttime is the major cause of conflicts between you and arlecchino. she just won’t go to bed. her strictness with herself makes it difficult to retire before everything on the task list is checked of. so, if she’s never in bed, the preferences are all yours.
also not the biggest on affection once she’s laying down. arlecchino considers her nails too sharp to allow for uncontrollable handholding, same with embracing you from behind. I guess sleeping close side-by-side it is.
── 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞
if we’re speaking technicalities, sandrone does not need much. perhaps a little bit of cushiness to have her joints not lock up, that’s all. on the other hand, her preferences have resulted in you having one of the most delightful of beds in the whole wide world — pillows, blankets. you name it, it’s there — including a tiny pulonia plush.
it’s actually quite heavy for her to scooch over during the night. as unfortunate as it is, she simply has to resort to you doing all the work. please do, she requires it as much as her morning coffee.
── 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞
the obvious maximalism of bedding choice aside, the bigger mystery is how pantalone cannot fall asleep unless there’s some sort of noise in the background. he’ll entertain any of your wishes in regards to proximity preferences, but you’re dealing with a record player in the corner of the room in exchange.
retires to bed early and stays in there as much as possible. he’ll stop you from getting him up in the tightest of hugs. if you can’t get up, neither can he… or something like that.
── 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐚
honestly, kind of a nightmare. ajax is quite the vivid sleeper and he moves A TON. not to mention he’s constantly too warm. turning the heating down did nothing, same with getting that special bedding that has the cold side.
well, the second one might’ve failed because ajax will snuggle you like his life depends on it. handholding is simply not enough, he has to breathing in the scent of your shampoo or else he won’t fall asleep ever… and tired childe gets even more unhinged than his usual self.
— ۶ৎ Morning with you | Tighnari, Kazuha, Albedo, Xiao x reader.
۶ৎ Category(?): Established relationship, fluff, a bit nsfw and also one of them is a bit angst.
۶ৎ Warning(?): Subtle mention of sex/intimacy so it may be +18. If you feel uncomfortable reading this, please skip this one.
૮꒰ 𓈒. ݂ .𓈒ྀི ꒱ა ┊おはよう(✯ᴗ✯). I finally made one with the 4 cuties, I don't have a lot to say this time, I only hope you like it. Enjoy! ✦
✧. ┊ POV:
“You just spent the night with them, slept in the same bed, shared the same sheets... Kisses lingering longer than usual, hands desperately touching each other, leading to an unexpected but deeply desired intimacy... What would the next morning with them be like?”
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
۶ৎ Tighnari will be the first one to wake up, for sure. His pretty fluffy tail will be curled around your thigh, and the memories of the previous night will hit him like a fungus on one of those dumb adventurers.
۶ৎ You’ll be sleeping so comfortably while he’s turning red as hell, his soft, long ears flicking uncontrollably at the memories of you beneath him—kisses and light touches turning into something more desperate, yet still delicate... until your voice whispers his name like pray.
۶ৎ He’ll stay right next to you, an arm wrapped under your waist, holding you close. And if it’s raining outside? Good luck getting out of bed, girl—he’ll want to stay just there.
۶ৎ “Morning...” you’d whisper, barely awake, feeling his breath against the nape of your neck and shoulder. “You okay…?” you’d ask, moving a bit. He’ll look at you with those bi-colored eyes, his long ears pinned back. “Perfectly fine,” the liar, blushing. “I should be the one asking that.”
۶ৎ If you say you’re fine, he’ll make you stay in bed, get dressed, and then look for breakfast for both of you. Oh, but don’t you dare move out of bed, because he’ll just make you come right back inside. “Would it just kill you to stay still for once?” he’d ask, leaving the tray of food on his desk and scolding you back to bed.
۶ৎ Honestly, he just wants to take care of you. You smell so much like... like him, but also like yourself, and that mix drives his senses wild. And if you wear one of his oversized T-shirts? Girl, you’ll see how he stares at you like he wants to eat you all over again.
۶ৎ A light blush colors his cheeks, his tail flicking unconsciously. If you’re in bed and stir, his T-shirt might ride up a bit, and his eyes will fix on your thighs. “You’re being…” he sighs, “more distracting than usual.”
۶ৎ You’ll drink warm tea and instantly feel like the soreness from yesterday’s... workout fades away. Oh, and did I mention he’ll stare at you until you finish breakfast? No? Well, you better believe it.
۶ৎ If you want to stay in bed, he’ll stay with you, ask for cuddles, and say, “Alright, needy gremlin, I’m not going anywhere.” And if you kick his shoulder playfully, “Ouch, that hurts!”—but it didn’t, and you both know it. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’d have that relaxed, happy smile.
۶ৎ Of course he will, you—the object of all his deep, not-so-sane desires and his girlfriend—just let him shower you with the soft but intense attention only he can give.
︵ .︵ . ︵﹒︵୨ ꒰ Tighnari ꒱ ୧︵ . ︵﹒︵ . ︵
“Who are you calling gremlin?” you asked, pretending to be offended as you turned your back to him. “Says the one whose tail kidnapped my thigh the whole night.”
“That was involuntary,” Tighnari replied, and you felt the soft fur of his tail brushing against your lower back with a subtle flick. “Why are you so far? You’re going to fall.” And just like that, he pulled you closer, one arm wrapping around your waist.
“What a cute and discreet way of saying you want me close,” you said, sarcastic and teasing as usual, now facing him.
“Alright, I want you close,” Tighnari admitted, catching you off guard. You blushed. He looked a bit flustered too.
“You can be pretty cute when you’re honest, you know,” you said, giving him a quick peck on the lips.
“I know other situations where you can be pretty cute too…” he murmured, more to himself than to you.
“Tighnari!” You covered your face with your hands, suddenly way too aware of everything that happened the night before.
He just smiled and hugged you. You knew he was definitely going to tease you about it.
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
۶ৎ Kazuha won’t let you go anywhere. It doesn’t matter who wakes up first—he’ll be so adorably clingy. If he’s the first one up, he’ll quietly watch you sleep, brushing a few strands of hair from your face and looking at you like you’re the most precious thing ever created.
۶ৎ He’ll gently kiss your shoulder and let you hug him in your sleep, one of his hands softly running along your back.
۶ৎ “Mornings with you feel like a dream come true,” he’d whisper into your ear once he knows you’re awake. And if you blush and peek at him with one eye? Oh girl, he’s melting.
۶ৎ Get ready for a full round of kisses, cuddles, and soft poetry—about how much he loves you, how perfect you are, how lucky he feels to have you… and how much he adores being like this with you.
۶ৎ Kazuha might ask if you want to go have breakfast with the other members of the Crux, but if you tell him you’re not hungry and just want to stay in his arms? “Alright, who am I to say no to my muse’s wishes?” he’ll say, wrapping you in his embrace—and just like that, the two of you will fall asleep again.
۶ৎ You two are unbearably cute. You’ll be affectionately running your fingers through his silver hair, and he’ll take your hand to kiss each of your fingertips. Stop, it's too much.
۶ৎ You may kiss each other… for a bit too long, and his soft, delicate kisses will slowly trail down—from your sweet lips to your jawline, then your neck, your collarbone… and just like that, you’ll end up tangled in each other all over again.
︵ .︵ . ︵﹒︵୨ ꒰ Kazuha ꒱ ୧︵ . ︵﹒︵ . ︵
“Are you… okay?” you asked shyly, still breathing heavily after the intensity of the moment. Your cheeks were painted a deep red, a faint silver sheen glistening on your forehead.
“I couldn’t feel better,” Kazuha replied, still hovering above you. His beautiful carmine eyes were locked onto yours, filled with that unmistakable look of love.
“Y-You’re looking at me like that again…” you whispered, completely flustered.
“Am I?” he asked with a faint smile, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose. “Then I apologize… but I can’t help it,” he added, his voice as soft and intoxicating as ever.
He pressed his forehead against yours, his words brushing against your lips.
“This moment, with you… I don’t think I could ever write enough haikus to capture how perfect you are. How complete it feels to be like this with you.”
Then came that look again—tender, adoring—making your face burn red like a tomato.
He smiled, and your heart melted.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too, Kazuha.”
You couldn’t have felt happier.
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
۶ৎ Albedo wakes up early—like, really early. This man has an entire routine mapped out in his head... but then there's you, peacefully sleeping in his bed, your bare body pressed softly against his.
۶ৎ He forgets about the routine—well, consciously, not literally. He just lies there, watching you sleep, a gentle smirk on his lips, icy-blue eyes fixed on your calm, adorable face. He reaches out to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear with the utmost care.
۶ৎ He's a curious man, but he's also in love with you. So, after memorizing every detail of your sleepy expression like a sketch etched into his mind, he carefully slips out of bed, gets dressed, and goes to prepare breakfast and something warm for you to drink.
۶ৎ If you wake up and don’t find him beside you, you might worry for a moment—until he walks back in, wearing a white shirt and relaxed pants. Your heart melts instantly... and his slightly messy hair, tied low in a loose ponytail? Absolutely adorable.
۶ৎ “Good morning,” he’d say as he approached. Albedo would sit at the corner of the bed beside you while you hid your flustered face under the white bedsheets. “Are you feeling any soreness?”
۶ৎ And yes, of course he’d ask such a question with his usual calm and composed tone... which only made your cheeks burn even more. “I’m fine…” you’d murmur, stealing a shy glance at him.
۶ৎ Albedo, ever the observant one, would instantly notice your embarrassment. With his usual quiet empathy, he’d ask if you’d prefer some space… But if you whispered that all you wanted were cuddles?
۶ৎ He wouldn’t hesitate. In an instant, he’d slip back under the bedsheets with you, letting you rest your head on his chest as his fingers traced gentle, lazy circles across your shoulders.
۶ৎ He would lean down to kiss you softly, just to observe that "fascinating" expression of yours—as if you were melting right in his arms. And if you pressed a small kiss to the star mark on his neck? Oh… the slight pink flush in his ears would betray him.
۶ৎ After a while, he’d help you get dressed—and by “get dressed,” he’d offer one of his white shirts that just barely reached your thighs. Once you were dressed, he’d take your hand in his and lead you to the kitchen for breakfast.
۶ৎ Albedo wouldn’t say it aloud, but he loved seeing you in his clothes. There was something deeply intimate about it—like a quiet declaration only he got to witness.
۶ৎ He couldn't help but steal glances, especially when you shifted and the shirt rode up just a little... Ahem. Fascinating, indeed.
︵ .︵ . ︵﹒︵୨ ꒰ Albedo ꒱ ୧︵ . ︵﹒︵ . ︵
"I'm fine, just tired..." you admitted, letting yourself fall back into his bed. The soft linens welcomed your body, and a smile tugged at your lips as you closed your eyes. "Smells like you..." you murmured, half-conscious of what you'd said.
"And also like you," Albedo added, voice calm as ever.
Your cheeks burned. "That was unnecessary."
"Still, it’s something you can’t deny." He joined you, the mattress dipping gently under his weight. You opened one eye, only to be met with his sky-blue gaze and that faint, peaceful smile gracing his lips.
"What?" you asked, startled by his stare.
"Nothing," he said softly. "It’s just that... seeing you this relaxed is rather enjoyable." His fingers reached out and tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. You looked away quickly, too flustered to respond.
That small movement, however, exposed the curve of your collarbone—his gaze lingered. Then, gently, his fingers touched the spot.
"W-what?" you blinked and looked back at him.
"I think... I may have marked you," he murmured with that same composed tone, now gazing at the faint bloom on your skin—not too high, not too low... placed just right to stay hidden under your clothes.
"Eh?..." you managed, completely flustered, before quickly turning your back to him. "W-when...?"
"It may have happened in the heat of the moment..." he began, but you shot him a glare and buried your face in the curve of his neck.
"S-stop!"
A small smile curved his lips as his hand rested softly on your back. "I like it," he whispered near your ear. "Is it alright if I do it again... another time?"
"Albedo!" you yelped, mortified—but your heart was undeniably fluttering.
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
۶ৎ Yeah, mhm… he’s internally losing it.
۶ৎ Xiao had been so terrified that his karma might’ve harmed you—that it clung to your soul somehow—that the first thing you saw upon opening your eyes were his golden irises staring down at you, wide with worry, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable.
۶ৎ “X-Xiao…?” you breathed out, confused and a little panicked, sitting up too fast. “Is everything okay?”
۶ৎ He didn't answer right away. His eyes scanned your form, almost analytically, searching for any trace of damage—any mark, tremble, anything out of place. Only when he found nothing did he give the faintest of nods, though the tension didn’t leave his shoulders.
۶ৎ “Are you… alright?” he asked softly, now sitting on the edge of the bed. His voice barely rose above a whisper.
۶ৎ He wanted to touch you—hold you, make sure you were truly there—but he didn’t dare. Not after last night. Not after he had crossed that line. What if he tainted you? What if you absorbed his karmic burden and didn’t even know yet?
۶ৎ Then he felt it—your hand, so warm, so soft, cupping his cheek. His breath caught. Golden eyes snapped to yours, struck silent by the touch. It disarmed him completely.
۶ৎ “I’m completely fine…” you whispered, your thumb gently brushing over his cheekbone.
۶ৎ Xiao said nothing. He couldn’t. His heart ached with too many things—fear, longing, guilt, love. You knew it too. He wasn’t distant because he didn’t care. He was distant because he cared too much.
۶ৎ So, like coaxing a frightened cat, you gently ran your fingers through his dark deep green, silky hair. He flinched slightly at first, then… melted into it, eyes fluttering shut for just a second.
۶ৎ “Would you… stay a little longer?” you asked gently, patting the space beside you.
۶ৎ He looked at it. Hesitated. Then, slowly, like every movement cost him a piece of himself, he lay down—still keeping a bit of space between you.
۶ৎ It hurt. The gap between you was small but full of unspoken pain. And yet... he hadn’t vanished. He was there when you woke up. And for now, that was enough.
︵ .︵ . ︵﹒︵୨ ꒰ Xiao ꒱ ୧︵ . ︵﹒︵ . ︵
“I’ll go ahead and get some breakfast,” you said softly, a faint smile on your lips that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Do you want me to bring you some almond tofu?” You sat at the edge of the bed, slipping your fingers around the fabric of your dress lying on the floor.
There was silence.
You didn’t even have to look to know—he was watching you. You could feel the weight of his gaze, those beautiful golden eyes tracing your form. You tried to steady your breath, to not show how much this distance, this hesitation, was pulling at your heart.
But then— You felt it.
An arm slid gently, but firmly, around your waist. Before you could react, he pulled you back into the bed, back into him. You gasped softly at the sudden movement, but the moment you felt his warmth pressed against you, all your confusion melted into stillness.
Xiao rested his head on your chest, bare skin meeting bare skin. His breath was warm against you, his body rigid at first… and then slowly, slowly, relaxing. His hand stayed at your waist like he was grounding himself, like your heartbeat was the only thing keeping the world from falling apart.
“Stay…” he whispered, his voice almost lost in the quiet morning air.
Your heart fluttered.
Your cheeks flushed a deep pink, your arms moved without hesitation, one wrapping around him and the other threading into that silken dark-green hair. You held him close, your smile blooming with quiet joy, the kind that comes from knowing he chose you, not just for a moment, but for a little longer.
“All you want, Xiao,”
And in that moment, the karmic weight faded, just a little.
— one thing is for sure, once lohen has his eye on something, he's obsessed. all flushed whenever he sees you around and always following behind you, sometimes ducking away shyly when you turn around.
— he's very aware of his obsession. he likes it, likes the feeling of his heartbeat thrumming under his skin, making him feel more alive than he ever has before. he wants you and all of you, and he's willing to do anything to achieve that. if it took a hundred seasons to kiss your feet, he'd be more than willing.
— that said, that's where the sweet part about this ends. lohen is jealous, impossibly jealous. anyone who you talk with, look at a little too long, ends up as the target of the blonde's scrutiny. and if they offend you, or god forbid, make advances on you, lohen's prestige and reputation have a way of making someone disappear.
nsfw:
— lohen, whining as he thrusts into you, hips frantic, hands grabbing whatever skin they can find-your chest, arms, thighs. he grips them tight enough to leave bruises, marks where there aren't already rope burns on the skin. well, he warned you. you had dared to get close to someone who wasn't him, and he has no choice but to lock you up before anyone can take you away. like a child, he's possessive and stubborn. this just means he won't let you go easily.
— lohen, who patiently spoon-feeds you from where you're tied to a chair in some unknown location, a dark, underground place. there's virtually no way of escape, and every second he can, lohen is all over you. sometimes, visiting to talk to you sweetly. other times, rabid like a dog, panting as he dry humps your leg or messily makes out with you.
— he's whipped, to put it simply. he hasn't had any experience other than what he's seen in his dreams, but a desperate man makes for desperate measures. when he fucks you, sometimes tied, other times not (it doesn't matter, you're left gasping for air and clawing at the ground, you can't escape anyway) he's fast. he's dreamed about you so long that now, when he has you, he can't hold himself back.
— "i love you," he whispers, driving his cock back into your insides with a wet slap. "i love you so much, and you'll be mine forever."
❝ YOU WERE NEVER TRULY THEIRS TO BEGIN WITH! AND THEY WERE NEVER TRULY YOURS TOO!— BUT I AM! I AM YOURS! I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN AND ALWAYS WILL BE YOURS! ❞
Pairing: Yandere Lohen x Childhood Friend &. Hopeless Romantic GN Reader.
Warnings: Lohen himself, Massive guilt tripping, Lohen being a scum to your dating pool and torturing and killing people behind your back, Also Lohen threatening to off himself, Blood, Betrayal, Minor Character Death. This is only a short synopsis.
Taglist: Depends!
Note: This is just the synopsis/premise I made. Lohen is an asshole. But I kind of fell for that asshole. I imagine him to be kind of submissive to your whims. As in totally up to fake a date with you and tease you for being too flustered over something that isn't real (it is to him). But also the same guy who'll legitimately stab a guy specifically 59 times just because he said exactly 59 words to capture your attention. He's that petty. But also pretty. Get what I mean? I write more yandere stuff here by the way.
Lohen doesn't know how to deal with his ever growing affection for his childhood sweetheart. Likewise, he doesn't know how to cope with the anticipatory fear of losing you even more. In his mind, all that ever existed, all that ever mattered was you, your feelings for him, and being together until both your hairs would turn gray.
It was fate. It was a promise you've entrusted to one another ever since you both were kids, hidden under your blankets, uncaring for the warmth smoldering your bodies, faces illuminated only by the lantern you've stolen from your father's desk.
"If I don't get married before thirty, then you'll be my husband instead, Lohen. So you've got to promise me, okay!?"
He agreed, mindless and bored, thinking it's all just some childish fantasy you'll soon forget.
But it never was. The prospect of marriage and love, and safety and security, to you, was as sacred as your friendship with the knight. The longer the seasons had passed, the more you were desperate to settle down, the more, it seems, Lohen himself had found entangled in a web of great jealousy watching your hopeful eyes sparkle at any person, any knight or any passing traveler who'd give you attention longer even a second.
He thought he'd buried that promise all those years ago. He focused more on the future, on staggering missions, basking on the screams of victims echoing through the night. The blood on his hands and the poison in his vials should've been enough to quell the developing affections seizing him of breath.
Lohen had never intended to have those words — "marry", "husband", and most importantly "you" —to be injected into his very thoughts like slithering snakes after all these years. Lohen had never wanted for somebody to become the sole purpose of him achieving his goals.
He had never wanted to be consumed by raging feelings for you.
But unlike the others, unlike the knights who'd stumble in their steps at the sight of him, unlike the enemies whose weapons would quiver in their grip, who'd befall on their knees and at his feet; all the spilled glory and the reckless fights he believed he loved the most would never come close to you—
In fact, they all come last.
All of them.
Like the heads of countless hilichurls he'd stomp under his boots. Like the limbs of potential lovers he'd twist and turn to ungodly angles, like their pallid skin he'd carve with his poisoned dagger. All followed by verbal warnings, a wave of assault on their ribs, until his boots would nearly crush their fragile, beating hearts. Enough to line their bloodshot eyes with those ugly, salty tears. Enough to trade a promise to never look at you no more. Let alone taste your name on their vile, bleeding tongues.
The days you complained about your talent for scaring off the people you like to a knowing Lohen were all dismissed by your valiant knight with a kiss of his teeth and assurance of another 'maybe next time'. A joke here, a smack on his shoulder there, and the flutter of your lighthearted laugh fluttering through the wind. A laugh he'd heard a thousand times, locked in his heart and replayed every time the distance between you two was far greater than the width of a fingertip. It was a laugh he wished was only reserved to him.
Deep down, he knew your smiles were just a facade. You'd been melting into the walls of your home, shoving yourself in corners and wondering what went wrong with you. Why nobody ever seemed to approach you anymore.
All those times, you find yourself running to Lohen. You joked he was the only one brave enough to tolerate your curse. That he may truly be the man you're going to marry. It's pitiful. You're pitiful and full of doubts he wished to wash away with his hungry lips.
Maybe he feels an ounce of regret for killing them all before you could even say yes to their offers of a date.
In truth, he doesn't at all.
Because Lohen doesn't mind being your only source of comfort.
Not when his head finds itself laying comfortably on your shoulders after every advice given, glimmering eyes and soulless smiles staring back at another of your failed suitors quivering under his gaze from a far distance.
Everybody knew about the Vice Captain's crush on you. Everybody knew backing off of your tail was the only option for survivability. It was an unspoken rule to never approach the infamous Lohen's beloved muse unless they want tragedy to befall upon them.
Everybody except for one unfortunate soul.
When there came a threat of a suitor — a lowly knight working under his faction even, who dared to ask for your hand, who dare kiss the very same fingers he'd lovingly held every since you two were nothing but reckless kids who only ever had each other, who dare stare into the eyes he'd dreamt of drowning in every night— who somehow slipped beneath his gaze, found itself courting you in your own home in front of your own family...
Lohen realized scaring off your admirers was nothing but an effort that bore no fruit as long as you were drawn to a scum's empty promises of a future.
Lohen realized all it took was one measly gun pointed at his skull, a dagger on his bleeding heart, the stench of blood seeping on carpeted floors, and the looming threat of your childhood best friend's death on your hands for you to swear your undying fealty to him...
After all, he couldn't bring himself to break his promise now, could he?
— in which , ignoring your calls is simply not an option .
— teyvat has mobile phones au, inspired by @mourambles midst of battle f/o post ☆
— second winner of this poll
— bit of pre-plot to set up the scenario, violence cause,, yk, they're fighting, ajaw is an annoying pos (i love him), traditional petnames used, check end of fic for translations ^^
— anyone who has been reading my recent updates know why i've been.. gone for so long. i'm not kidding when i say this draft is from september 2024. hooly shit. i js had to post it. except a flins fic maybe soon my main deserves something from this ol factory
demons had grown rampant in the marshes on dihua once more.
the adeptus' polearm cut through them swiftly and effortlessly, every movement well-trained, calculated, and put into practice. wave after wave of hilichurls, cloaked in some sort of dark, fog-like shroud, fell before him in hordes, giving out pathetic cries as they were dispatched — victims of his spear.
"hah..." straightening for a moment of respite, xiao wiped the blood of his face briefly, brushing the back of his hand against his cheek. while his limbs had yet to feel the twinge of weariness, he pinched his brows together all the same. it had been far too long since he had last saw you, thanks to his constant monster-slaying duties.
in the distance, a stonehide lawachurl roared, charging at him with geo-infused fists. flanked by mitachurls and a small army of other, lesser creatures, xiao could only form one thought as he readied his spear: oh, what i'd give to just hear their voice.
as if it had been waiting, the small, rectangular mechanism in his pocket buzzed.
"oh, that..." as xiao cut the arrows directed towards him in half, he recalled what the strange object's purpose was.
..
"a-xiao, over here~" waving him over, you beamed, like the sight of him was something to smile over. "i made some... wise financial decisions and got you the newest model of the 'fone' from fontaine!"
xiao had eyed the thing you had handed him with utmost skepticism, flinching when you pressed the button on its side, lighting the "screen" up. "w-w...what sorcery..." xiao's face paled. even guizhong and cloud retainer had never conjured up something as... well, whatever this was.
"okay, now watch closely..." xiao watched you fiddle with the device, narrowing his eyes with slight hatred at the mechanism that was stealing your attention away from him. "wait here. and press the green button." staring after you like a lost puppy, xiao could only stand in confusion as you sprinted some 100 meters away. all of a sudden, the device in his hands shook, and xiao looked down to see text and a green button. hesitantly pressing it, he was shocked to hear your voice, through the device.
"?? a-are you stuck in there? hold on, i'll free you-" xiao raised his polearm, ready to smash the screen to bits.
"hey- hold on!! this thing cost a lot!! i'm not stuck in here, xiao.. its a device that'll let you talk to me, even if you're away! i thought you would've liked it, but if not, there's always that 30 day return guarantee..."
your mopey voice immediately struck a chord within him. "no, i like it. i do."
"...you do?"
"yes."
"...yay!"
..
"oh, so, then..." remembering what you had told him before, xiao pressed the accept call button without a second thought, holding it to his ear with one hand and wielding his spear in the other.
"xiao?"
there it was, your voice — clear as day, like the early sun dispersing the fog. "yes. it's me." he spun to the side to avoid an attack, before striking down the foolish hilichurl who'd dared to fight against him.
hearing muffled sounds in the background, you questioned, "are you busy? is everything okay? i can always call you ba-"
"no. i'm not busy. and everything is fine." he wasn't lying at all, really. just the sound of your voice had swept a cool breeze through him; rejuvenated, he felt like he could fight better than he had in centuries.
"talk to me. about anything. i'll listen."
the day, as per usual, started with a certain pixelated dragon in need of bloodshed.
"oh yes mrs. katheryne!! the most dangerous tasks you have- ol kinichie over here can handle it nooooo problem!! mhm! yepyep!!" ajaw was the most happy he had been in days, bobbing up and down in the air excitedly as he yapped away. the two stood in front of the adventurer's guild, and katheryne eyed them awkwardly.
"...mr. kinich, is that all right with you?"
"...do whatever."
"HIS OPINION DOESN'T MATTER!! mine!! mine does!! AND MY OPINON IS YES, WOMAN, so f*ck him up!!"
"ah.. alright. here you are, mr. kinich. the commission details."
"thank you."
"YES!! YAHAHA!!!"
more often than not, kinich began his days like this — a manically laughing pixel dragon and a hell of a headache. of course, today was a little different; typically, he'd go through his usual saurian hunting jobs, but as per your request to "add a little variation to his routine," he'd gone out of his way earlier to accept that strange communication contraption you'd gifted him earlier, and now he was taking a commission from the adventurer's guild. ajaw had made sure to find the most dangerous one possible: clearing abyss-corrupted grounds of monsters.
entering the marked area, kinich scanned his surroundings. with experience, he'd become adept at tuning out ajaw's constant chatter, and could remain focused on the task at hand. axe-wielding mitachurls at the forefront, archers in the back... it would require pre-planning, yes, but did ajaw underestimate his abilities to such an extent?
deciding his course of action, kinich launched himself into the back ranks with his skill, sweeping his blade and clearing out the hilichurls in the back, who fell before they even had the chance to load their crossbows. as for the larger monsters in front, kinich called on the aid of ajaw, who let out the cringey response of, "measly insects, now you must pay!" as dendro attacks rained down from above and more purplish, abyss-tainted creatures appeared in the distance, kinich's trained ears heard the cheerful, elevator-music like ringtone of his... what was it called? oh, right. the "fone."
asali... sweet honey. seeing the contact name, kinich paused for a brief moment, as if starstruck. swiftly getting over his stupor, he received clearing his throat before unmuting to speak. "asali? is everything alright where you are?"
"mhm, just checkin' in~! you forgot to take the snack i packed for you this morning so- you aren't hungry, are you?"
"don't worry about me." a mitachurl, dropping its axe and collapsing onto its knees before finally dissipating into the air, let out a crude groan as the last remains of its being was swept away by the wind. kinich scuffed the ground with his boot, tilting his head to hold the device between his ear and shoulder so he could still wield his claymore double-handed. "i'll have them when i get back."
"just make sure ajaw doesn't eat them all-" jumping upwards to avoid the downward cleave of a large axe, kinich carved into the body of another monster. "what's going on over there, 'ichi'? i'm not bothering you in the middle of something, am i?"
"not at all." before ajaw could speak a word, kinich clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at him. get the hint. "stay on call. i don't mind the company."
"bfug- HEY!" ajaw somehow managed to wriggle his way out of kinich's grasp, yelling fervently. "you have my company, blockhead- is that not enjoyable enough for you?!"
"ajaw, you are anything but enjoyable."
"'ichi'... let's be nice now."
well, of course you would say that, but the male knew you silently agreed on the fact. "so? tell me about your day."
"it won't bore you?"
kinich slung himself into the air, garments flapping in the downward drop as he plummeted his weapon into the ground. his claymore sent out waves of shock in the area of impact, and slaughtered anything kinich deemed to be in his path.
"how could you even think that, asali? no, never."
come on now, his jokes weren't that unfunny now, were they?
having seen the entire sumeru cast walk out on him at lambard's tavern, the man resigned himself quietly, a single, satirical tear escaping his stone-statue-like expression. "haha... seems like my humor is just more advanced..."
cyno said it just to cope, and to console himself further he decided to enact some justice. nothing beat the misery of friends not understanding your hilariously good jokes like destroying evil-doers. he'd been tailing a wayward group of treasure hoarders for several days now, and what better time would there be to eradicate them?
stepping out of the tavern, the night air was cool. subconsciously glancing down at the device he now had on his person at all times — the "fone," as you called it, he quietly frowned to see no activity.
well, no matter. cyno thought to himself, quickly dispatching the blemishes of society. he knew your day-to-day schedule by heart, and it was around this time you would head to bed. expecting a "nighty night, cyno <3" anytime now, the former general mahamatra cracked a small smile while bloodying his spear.
contrary to his expectations, however...
over the past few days, cyno had grown accustomed to that buzzing feeling in his pocket, indicating that you were, figuratively, glancing his way. since he had obtained the device, he now anticipated that buzz at any given moment — except this time, the sound was a prolonged... indicating, what was it- "an audio form of chat?"
swiftly tapping on the green button on the bottom of the screen, cyno spoke. "azizam?" his voice felt raw, unnatural, even, as he continued his onslaught. "what's up?"
before you could even answer or greet him, the man responded to himself. "the sky. haha. hahahaha. do you get it? so-"
"cyno..." the moment he heard that exasperated voice with a cheery undertone, emitting from his fone speaker, cyno broke into a small smile, shutting himself up.
(it was a terrifying sight, really, to the treasure hoarders who were getting obliterated by said mahamatra, smiling oh so sweetly.)
"your joke isn't even relevant right now! i'm at home! it's the ceiling that's above me, that's what... ah, nevermind- it's nothing, i just wanted to call you and bid you goodnight..." there was a pause on the other end of the phone, and cyno waited attentively for you to speak, whirling his polearm before slamming it into the desert sands. "am i tweaking out right now or am i hearing the sounds of something-, no someone? dying... cyno..."
that chastising tone was what he found more endearing than anything else. "hmm, sounds of people dying? i don't know what you're talking about... i'm by myself, at home. you could even say i'm by cy-self, no?"
silence.
"...not funny, azizam?"
"2 stars."
"out of five? y'know, that's quite generous-"
"a hundred. out of a hundred."
"....it's a start."
your laughter starts out quietly, like a bubbling stream- his oasis in the desert. it's a melodic, joyful sound that he breathes in, giddy like a little kid as he finally executes the final blow to the last fleeing treasure hoarder. the man crumples to the ground like paper mache, lying still.
"so, mr. 'i'm at home,' mind lending me an ear?" you're the first one to speak after recovering yourself from your laughter, the traces of a chuckle still in your voice. "you wouldn't believe the new drama at the academia, i swear.."
"talk away. a man by his lonesome has nothing better to do than to listen."
the red on the snow was blooming — strawberries in the summertime.
like an artist expertly wielding a paintbrush, the blank, white canvas was filled with splotches and splatters of a brilliant crimson color. the man himself, tartaglia, was no artist, however. if he had to describe himself, it would be along the lines of the eleventh of the eleven fatui harbingers, childe, and, by his humble opinion, the most charming of the bunch.
in the early shneznayan morning, drifts of ice fell quickly from the clouds above. after his little excursion in liyue, he had been suddenly sent back to shneznaya for a brief recon mission, the reason provided being “everyone else was busy.” and while childe wouldn’t normally ever turn down a chance to see his family and tuecer again… this time, there was something keeping him tethered to the land of geo.
yes, it was you. you, who had won his heart over (though it had been an inadvertent action on your part) and made him chase after you like a lapdog day and night — of his own volition, of course.
childe picked up the call with a smile, holding the “fone” in the crook of his neck. in the distance, more enemies emerged — treasure hoarders daring to sully the nation of cryo — childe spun his bow, hydro vision flashing as it transformed into his signature double blades. “kotik? what’s going on, you miss me?”
“as if. don’t delude yourself, ginger.”
there it was, that delightful little note of annoyance in your tone. “soo? speak away~” as he laughed, his hydro weapon slashed through his opponents, leaving them to fall in pieces in the snow. white was slowly colored red and a dried muddy-brown, seeping through the ice to reach the budding sprouts below. though shneznaya was never all that warm…
“i was just- zhongli was wondering if you’d be back by next week?”
soon, it would be spring.
“hmm? its zhongli who wants to know? i could’ve sworn i heard-”
“zhongli! it’s zhongli who wants to know! ugh, seriously, you… it’s not like i’m worried about you, but it’s been a while since we ate together… the three of us, i mean.”
“mhm~” childe basked in the sound of your voice, eyes fluttering close as he drunk its melody in. “well, i suppose if i put some effort into it, i could be back before next thursday..”
“effort? hey, you told me you were visiting family… you aren’t on a mission, are you??”
“huh? no, no.” childe chuckled sheepishly as he swept his blade against the new oncomers — one slash, two, three, seventeen, fourty nine — they collapsed to the ground just as fast as they had come. flicking his weapon to clean off the blood on its blade, the man let out a little laugh. “effort in playing hide-and-seek with tuecer. he keeps telling me to play with him, and certaintly won’t let me leave until we’ve played at least a hundred rounds.”
“tuecer…” there was a hint of suspicion remaining in your voice. oops, had you heard the screams and startled shouts of the treasure hoarders as they were cut clean in two? “right, your little brother. you said you’d introduce me to your family soon, so i should’ve just come along with you this time…”
“i guess i’m just a big dummy, kotik. next time, okay?”
there was something fishy about this whole setup, but you relented nontheless. “honestly, you’re such ..”
"... the perfect one for you? hehe, i know~ fallen for me yet?”
(a/n) hi guys. i looked at my old drafts after coming back to tumblr and found this gem sitting in there. genuinely complete and idk why i never posted this. THIS SHIT WAS CREATED SEP 2024. ITS JUNE 2026. holy shit. do we still fw these characters even. happy late birthday cyno LMAO
( to my understanding, sumeru is based on ancient egypt, india, persia, and mesopotamia, and natlan is based on pre-columbian latin america, sub-saharan africa, and oceania )
inc. xiao, albedo, kinich, wanderer, varka, lohen.
premise. ever since birth, the fate of being the princess of your kingdom has weighed down on you. your only saving grace has been the people you have met along the way.
notes. each oneshot is interconnected w eachother so might read best fully, reader is princess of an undisclosed kingdom in all, hey if anyone likes this enough i'd be happy to do a LONGG (10k+) oneshot, reader referred to as name in some, sorry no snezhnaya men yet just finished aq, ily all hope u enjoy pls comment if you want more, not proofread btw xxxx
xiao
as the only heir to the throne in your kingdom, meeting with suitors was a duty you were expected to complete. it's not like the activity was totally redundant, you would have to marry eventually, but you would have preferred for your options to be slightly more interesting.
there was kaeya; charming enough, but his arrogance persuaded you to say no. after all, an alliance with mondstadt wasn't one your nation needed. tartaglia was the second, filled with kindness accompanied with overwhelming immaturity. he was well-intentioned, but you passed again. one of the later suitors had been xiao. thing is, he was either the most awkward or rude person you've ever met. every conversation ended with a hum or eyes floating around the grand meeting room, without any follow-up question. you'd left that conversation early, considering he seemed so disinterested.
the only upside to being princess was having activities to do whilst this whole marriage situation played out. most of your spare time had been devoted to horse-riding; there were probably more domestic lessons you should learn, but the thrill of riding through fields entertained you much more.
your feet knew the stable path by muscle memory. it was a small shack further out from the castles, because the visiting officials always complained about the smell. by the time you reached the oak door, it was already slightly ajar. you could only hope one of the horses hadn't escaped.
except, it wasn't like that at all. in fact, your stables had gained both a human and a horse. "oh, sorry—"
that clothing was definitely from liyue, with all its gold embellishments. still, the darkness made it difficult to see whose face it was. though, if they got past the guards at the front gates, they must be safe enough to interact with.
"oh, hi! i apologise, i didn't except there to be another visitor here. i'm just coming for my horse," you explained, feet already treading through the muck.
whoever it was hummed in acknowledgement. "i should be apologising first. this is your space and i intruded. i just wanted to feed my horse before i made the journey home."
that voice sounded somewhat familiar. then again, you spoke to hundreds of people daily.
"well, i wish you the safest of journeys," you smiled, looking over at their horse. "wow, pretty. does it have a name?"
"bosacius... he's named after a late friend of mine." the horse grunted, maybe upon the mention of his name. his nose moved forward, allowing your palm to graze over softly. unlike your own, this horse had thin brown fur. it must've been another indication that the person before you hailed from liyue.
"that's very noble of you. i'm sincerely sorry for your loss."
they brush the comment off, mumbling about how it couldn't be avoided. you may be somehwat nosy, but you would never be one to pry. that line of conversation slowly drifted, and just as you were about to return to your own horse, the individual spoke again.
"do you ride often?"
"oh, yeah, i guess so. my role in the kingdom rather important," you didn't really want to go around boasting about being a princess, so you settled for a more ambiguous version. "so, in my spare time, i ride."
they must've nodded, you felt the shift in the air, but quickly realised their face was still obscured and coughed instead. "well, i must apologise. i think i may have misjudged you earlier."
your lips grew into a frown. misjudged earlier? had he seriously taken you for a fool when you entered the stables? they were made specifically for you; in fact, he was the intruder in this scenario. if you weren't supposed to keep a kind persona to those both in and out of the castle, you were half-inclined to punch him.
"that is, when we first met."
they finally escaped from the gloomy lighting of the stable, standing in the light blasting through the stone opening. it dawned on you why the voice was so familiar; he was one of the suitors from recent. xi-something.
you bowed quickly; it must've been some sort of transgression that you didn't earlier. archons, your parents would kill you if they found out.
"oh— you don't have to do that," he murmured, looking away. from where you were knelt, you could see the pink blooming on his face. if you were better acquainted, maybe it would've been the source of a funny joke.
just as you stood, he moved for his horse. it seemed like he didn't want to linger, at least by the speed in which he mounted his horse. "again, i apologise for using your resources. though, i suppose it was worth it for this interaction."
now you saw it. laid on his horse must've been a tailor-made saddle, considering the gold and brown tones woven throughout. near the seams read the name 'xiao'. at least that saved you the embarrassment of asking him personally.
nodding swiftly, you took a step back to allow him to leave. bosacius began to trot with simple ease. part of you was slightly jealous; your own horse struggled to take two steps before flying off with no control.
he only looked back once. there was a hint of a smile, you were sure. it was gone before you could smile back.
albedo
there were some aspects about being a royal heir which you particularly enjoyed. one of them was the fact you could entertain yourself by annoying most of the individuals who worked in the palace.
it was the only way to distract yourself from the interaction a few weeks ago; you hadn't heard anything from your parents regarding xiao, but that didn't make it any easier to forget.
at first, it was your servants. however, they were too concerned with the idea that an unwilling response would cause you to expel them from the palace. or, some of the ones you were closer to would just blow you off entirely. it was frustrating.
then it was the knights. some of them lingered around the castle in case of emergencies, but maybe the true crisis was the one you were experiencing, because most of them seemed rather concerned whenever you approached. it was so silly; you only ever asked hypothetical questions, or for requests to leave the palace (which were always swiftly denied), so what was the fuss?
however, one person who always accepted your new annoying tendency to linger around was albedo. your father had labelled him as head strategist years ago, maybe even before you were born. well, you didn't really understood how that worked, because he looks as youthful as ever...
"hey, albedo, do you use any of those imported skin products?"
he laughed softly, looking back at you. realistically, you shouldn't be in any of these meeting rooms, especially when he's supposed to be preparing for an attack on a potential rebellion in the the north. even so, he's never dismissed you; in fact, he once complained when you didn't visit to ask your daily question. for such an intellectual man, shouldn't he be pursuing other, more interesting, questions?
"no. most beauty products use the placebo effect to think your appearance has changed, when it truly hasn't."
"placebo...?" you asked.
albedo placed his notebook down on the table. "in it's simplest form, the placebo effect is saying something cures or solves a problem, when it actually doesn't. instead, your mind is tricked to think that it does. it's usually quite an effective technique, but not something i'd try to attain for human concepts like beauty."
you nodded. for someone concentrated on facts and logistics, that was a reasonable answer.
though, he spoke up again. "why? do you intend to invest in these methods?"
you didn’t have the confidence to tell him that you technically already had. after all, the maids are practically the eyes and ears of the city, giving you half of the new inventions that would probably be frowned upon by any of the true officials. it was something of a secret; you weren’t sure what you’d actually do if someone caught you rubbing clay over your face during your nightly bath.
“…something like that,” you hummed. it was no surprise that he didn’t use those products: even though he was a mere strategist, albedo’s beauty was all natural.
in fact, you sometimes wondered why he even stayed at the palace. he had the face to secure any modelling job he wanted, not that there were many, but you were sure some luxury vendors would appreciate a physical example of their products. you’d once heard your father scolding him for sketching during an important strategy meeting, to which albedo had ‘acknowledged his suggestion’ before continuing to draw again. your father stormed out.
“have you ever wished you’d chosen a different job?” you suddenly asked, eyes staring up at him widely. “like… a painter, or selling something.”
“yes, every day.”
“then why stay? you’d probably find more interest in choosing one of those jobs,” that was another thing; he always complained about strategising being boring. it surprised you, really, considering how smart he was. you would’ve thought he enjoyed showing off his talents.
“because there are… important things here. now that i’ve found them, i simply cannot leave,” he admitted, golden eyes swimming in yours.
still, it made no sense to you. “things? them? what do you mean?”
a laugh was something easily drawn from albedo, but a genuine smile proved harder. even so, you managed to gain both, just as his hand made soft contact with the top of your head. he gave a light tap before allowing his chair to scratch against the floor.
“nothing to worry your head about.”
with that, he left swiftly, footsteps slowly reducing their echo until it returned into silence. you must have to spend more time before you can figure him out fully, it seems.
kinich
a few years back, you used to be warned for venturing to the other half of the castle to visit your family's designated spymaster, kinich. at the time, it made no sense to you; after all, he was hired at the hands of your father. if he truly did not trust him enough, then why let him serve at all?
not that it mattered. you never let it interfere. in the beginning, it was more you pestering him in his own quarters while he had to endure it because, well, you are his bosses daughter.
that changed when he had to leave for three months because, in that time, he'd actually grown to miss you quite a bit. when kinich returned, he made it clear that your kindness would be reciprocated.
which led you to now, walking down the same hallway his room resided on. it was always so cold, not to mention missing appropriate lighting. the next time you visit, maybe bringing him some candles would prove a useful gift.
though, if there had been some light, maybe you would have realised the drops of blood leading up to his room. some of it had already transferred to the edge of your dress, but your attention served better by knocking on his door.
one. two. three.
"hey, are you ignoring me?" you huffed out, looking down at the edge of the door. a thin layer of yellow emitted from underneath; he was clearly inside.
with little thought for the consequences, you entered, shutting the door behind you as you did. "right, i know you didn't answer, but..." you trailed off as you looked back.
kinich was stood there, yes, but clutching a rag sodden with blood. whether it was his or someone elses, you weren't exactly sure, but he was definitely wincing like a man injured. his eyes widened when meeting yours; maybe barging in wasn't the best idea.
"sorry, i didn't mean to— or well, yeah. are you okay? need my help?" you questioned, taking a step further into his room. there was blood on the floor, too.
he coughed. "no, this is nothing. just miscalculated something."
he pressed the cloth further to his abdomen, stumbling in the process. you walked over, holding his shoulder upright. "okay, sit down. i'll clean it, 'kay?"
while he was never the type of person to sit back and let someone else do something, it seemed he was permitting it this time. for once, you were grateful of kinich's knack for being overprepared: it was simple to find enough rubbing alcohol to clean the entire hallway. it was quiet as you worked, save for his hisses whenever the alcohol went particularly deep.
"so, what happened?" you probed, looking up at him for a moment. hopefully he hadn't been staring at you the whole time, you definitely made a face when wiping off the blood around his stomach.
"it was just some of those fatui again. i messed up with my claymore and they got a hit."
you hummed, hands exchanging cloth for bandages. "so there are people that really can defeat the great kinich?"
he scraped a laugh from his throat, hoarse and all. "yeah, seems to be."
your hands wrapped the bandages around his abdomen a few times, ignoring how natural it felt to do. even worse, he seemed pretty comfortable where he was.
after a minute, he leant forward. "come on, get up. your father would kill me if he saw you kneeling on my floor, covered in blood or not."
"i'm a princess, not a glass jar. no one will die if i'm on the floor for a few minutes," you reasoned. despite that, you stood before plopping on his bed. "wow, this is uncomfortable. why are the rooms down here so bad—"
kinich paused, fingers tracing the edge of your dress. "you must've got the blood on it when you came in here. i apologise, i'll buy you a new one."
"pfft, you don't have to do that."
"you said it's your favourite, no? it's comfortable and lightweight and no elaborate details."
you hated that the fact he remembered made his cold room feel much more warm. "...yeah. even so, i don't want you to buy me anything."
he hummed. "would me visiting you more often be payment enough?"
"depends. are you doing it cause you feel guilty or cause you wanna see me?" you smiled.
"both can be true. there's less work these days, anyway," he reasoned, allowing himself to lean back on the bed.
"then you have a deal."
wanderer
after the ruining of your favourite dress a few weeks ago, an excursion was long overdue. even so, you despised visiting with your mother. she was so embarrassing, demanding tailor-made clothes with both outrageous and difficult designs. you may have understood why, but that doesn’t mean you enjoyed the experience.
it took you a day to build up the courage to actually leave the castle in secret, under the appearance of a servant visiting family. the fact you managed to leave unnoticed was a miracle.
still, the hood you were wearing kept scratching at your neck in such an annoying way. archons, how did anyone wear these? your hands clawed at the fabric, ignoring the fact you were bee-lining straight for the largest hat you’ve ever seen.
“ah—“ you squealed, stumbling back to look at whoever you’d bumped into. “i’m so, so sorry.”
his attention was better served to the floor. or rather, the floor covered in apples, and then the vendor who clearly wanted the mora for his produce.
your hand quickly searched in your satchel, pulling out the first bag you can find. it met the wooden table with a large huff. “i don’t know how much apples cost, but we should all appreciate farmers, so…”
the vendor looked at you in terror, maybe because you’d landed half of his year’s wages for some measly produce.
with a wave, you left swiftly after. it wasn’t worth lingering around where you’d just offended everyone. though, it’s not like you could fully escape. an arm was quickly tugging at your sleeve.
“what was that?” the voice from behind you asked (or shouted).
you turned. it was the same guy you’d bumped into; maybe giving him some mora too was a good solution. “ah, hi! sorry for before. i can give you some money too if that helps—“
“why’d you give him that much money? those apples were five-thousand, at most.”
“people should appreciate farmers more, what can i say? he worked hard for that produce, and i paid what i thought was fair.”
the guy laughed. like a harsh bark. you’d only ever heard that from dogs.
“hey, are you making fun of me?”
“isn’t that obvious? you’re being stupid.”
you grumbled as he walked away, rushing after him. “so, what would you have done then? enlighten me, since your so smart.”
“paid the right money for the apples. maybe an extra hundred or two for the trouble. i certainly wouldn’t cause such a scene by dumping a hundred thousand on someones desk.”
“hardly a scene. maybe i’m an angel granting wishes in disguise.”
“archons, if that’s true, could i wish for you to go away?” he barked again as he walked. you’d never met anyone so infuriating. was everyone in the city like this?
“ugh, whatever. i’ve got a dress to buy anyways,” you rambled off, splitting off from his side and going down a different road. from behind you, you heard him ask where you were off too. seriously, was he a walking contradiction or what?
so, the rest of your afternoon was spent visiting quaint clothing shops. you were hoping to find something similar to the previous dress; simple, comfortable, hopefully not as susceptible to stains.
you were pretty confident you’d tried every shape, colour and length by the time the sun was waning in the sky. realistically, you should be heading back by now. it was annoying, too; all this effort and no dress to show.
on your stroll back to the carriage road, you spotted one more vendor. she was an older woman, posture more crooked than most, but with a graceful smile nonetheless. you walked over, hands smoothing over the fabrics sat on her table.
“this is really pretty craftsmanship. do you make these yourself?” they weren’t dresses, mostly jewellery with small gemstones driven in-between the metal. you’d seen designs similar in the palace, but the diamonds had always been much too flashy. emerald was nicer, anyway.
the older woman nodded, allowing you to pick up one of the necklaces. the gold was sleek enough to not look tacky, and you actually didn’t mind the combination against your skin. whilst you didn't manage to catch the dress you were looking for, a necklace like this one was a reasonable subsitution.
for the last time that evening, you reached into your satchel for more mora. however, by the time your head had raised to officially ask for the price, someone else had beaten you to it. had you seriously just been out-bidded for a necklace you were already holding?
except, the wind had already provided you an answer, blowing blue tassels into your line of vision. he even had the gall to smirk at you; even so, your feet were already moving after the sale.
"wow, no thankyou?" he commented, trailing after you.
you gave him a harsh glare. "who was the one who was making fun of me for shoving a bag full of mora to a vendor earlier, and then proceeded to do the exact same thing?"
the pair of you were reaching the end of the vendors stalls now. if you were lucky, he'd pick a carriage heading a different route.
"look, i just wanted to return the favour. if my joke really offended you earlier, i do apologise."
with a suspicious quirk of your brow, you looked back at him. "hm. maybe people can change."
the man scoffed, hands resorting to a comfortable spot in his pockets. his sandals scuffed the floor, brushing sand onto your own feet. "my name is wanderer, by the way."
you nodded, about to share your name too. but, if you did, would he recognise it was you? maybe it was egotistical to think simply revealing that piece of information meant he would have to know your identity, much less treat you any differently.
but for some reason, part of you didn't mind, maybe even itched o remove the hood and see if someone would accept you as you, and not a flashy title. your finger hooked around the edge, ready to slide it down, when the servant carriage pulled up across from you. archons, it was already a strain to convince them to assist you in this endeavour.
maybe another time.
"it's name," you whispered, voice scattered across the winds. if he'd heard, who could he tell now that your leaving? running to your carriage meant forsaking seeing his reaction in person. you'd scrambled to the window, though not sure what you were hoping to see.
damn him and his stupid hat, you thought, covering his whole face like a secret which must be kept. as the wooden mobile began to move, you spared a final glance only to see him staring back through the opening with an expression you couldn't place. still, he did not chase or shout. that was enough.
varka
after recently discovering a new-found love for sneaking out of the palace walls, it had seemingly become an almost weekly occurrence to beg the servants to enable you passage both to and from the city. this was originally feasible, considering half of the knights who remained in the castle had been sent on a mission to quell a rebellion six months ago. that included their commander, varka. he was a familiar figure in your kingdom; whenever any event required anyone of royal lineage, he was usually appointed as bodyguard.
in most cases, that was perfectly acceptable, if not on the more entertaining side. varka was not the boring, brooding type. he'd always facilitated your odd requests when looking after you.
except, maybe that was part of the problem. he was too good at his job. every attempt at anything he classed as remotely dangerous when accompanying you, like drinking or socialising with generals he didn't recognise, was immediately shut down. (it felt a bit hypocritical considering the tales from other knights of his bad drinking habits, but you'd made peace with that fact for now.
part of you could even suggest that you had missed varka since your father had sent the squadron out. it felt weird to not hear his boisterous laugh whenever you couldn't pretend to be social, or his scolding if you ran off without informing him first.
though the fact still remained: he had been gone for six months, half a year, and you'd already adjusted to not having him looming around. you didn't really understand why you were thinking about this whilst tip-toeing back to your room. maybe it was the guilt of sneaking out once again.
finally, you could pull off that itchy disguise and just get some sleep. the door to your room had creaked slightly on opening, making you wince, but soon stilled.
"where've you been, miss?"
you huffed. that voice was loud enough to wake half the floor. "can you just be quiet?" you hissed, finally turning around to see who it was.
the satchel you were holding landed on the floor with a clatter, releasing some of the items you'd purchased earlier in the evening. "varka? what are you doing here?"
he truly didn't look much different. a new scar under his brow, but aside from that, still the same knight you spent your weeks with. his arm raised into a wave, but with no movement. it took a minute for him to talk again.
"we'd been recalled from the mission. took longer than i thought, hah."
varka had always been one for jokes and lines to create smiles. this time, his laugh seemed dry, like he'd forced it to come out of his throat.
your hand reached for his wrist, dragging him inside and softly closing the door behind you. "i probably shouldn't stay, it's improper for me to be in your room, my lady."
"could you just call me by my name for once? i've not seen you in months," you hesitated. "i just want to hear it."
he'd managed an awkward perch on the edge of your bed, yet constantly shifted positions. "name, why were you out so late?"
well, there was a chance you'd brought that upon yourself. "ah, just... in the garden. yellow dandelions."
"in winter? and with no escort?"
"alright, maybe i wasn't. can you blame me? being here gets so boring," you whined, planting face-first on the bed. you felt him move once again, maybe to account enough space for you. after some deliberation, he leans back too.
"i don't think i can say i truly understand, i've never been in your position. however, i can sympathise with you, and i apologise for not being here to watch over you."
"you're acting so professional. come on, it's only me."
varka finally relaxes, head turning to face yours. "well... maybe the journey's made me a bit more stiff. no dandelion wine to help me relax,"
"i'm sure i could find some!" you cheered, to which he groaned.
"i appreciate the offer, but... i'd rather not push you into such unhealthy habits. i'd much rather catch up about what i've missed—“
finally, you lifted your body to face him too. the lantern light highlighted his new scar even further now. it was an absent-minded action, but your finger ran to run across the broken skin. it was unlike any texture you'd ever felt; calloused enough to make you want to recoil.
"did it hurt?"
“ah, that small scratch? no,” he confirmed, a light chuckle following his words.
“if it isn’t too much trouble,” you began, “maybe you could entertain me about your adventures instead?”
varka laughed once again, the rhythm filling the otherwise quiet room. “they may not be of your interests— all blood and battle. but, for you, i’ll try make it somewhat entertaining.”
lohen
initially, you had expected the commander of the knights returning to your kingdom would be a hindrance to your escapades into the city. at first, it did prove troublesome, but increasing uprisings within the villages granted you the opportunity for more freedom than you’d anticipated.
travelling into the main city was now a regular. it was easier to convince servants to grant you passage by carriage when they were certain there would be no punishment.
so, this journey was like any other. evening roads dragging sand across the cobbles, with a young man guiding horses around like it was his second calling. you were sat alone in the carriage once again, hood wrapped tightly around your head in case of an emergency in which you were recognised. it had always been suffocating, but that was the price one had to pay for these things.
though, not far from the city, the wooden carriage started to buckle from above. its panels groaned under some form of weight, and you paused.
“excuse me, is something wrong?” you shouted to the man driving. there was no response.
you could’ve mustered an expletive if not for the sudden collapse from the hood of the carriage, revealing a young man. like you, he also had his face obscured. but judging by the dagger he held close to your throat, he clearly wasn’t also a royal seeking to avoid attention.
after that, you couldn’t remember much. well, when someone is suffocated with a bag filled with some aromatic, do they ever remember what happened whilst they were unconscious?
regardless, the scene in front of you was not one of a charming landscape or perhaps a kind man looking for a favour in a dramatic way. no, instead, you had a lunatic staring at you — nostrils flared, red eyes capable of carving a hole into your head.
though, maybe by some miracle, the fabric saving you from being the subject of an otherwise ugly rebellious plot still remained intact. “what do you want?” you asked. the words scraped your throat, causing a fit of coughs which echoed the room.
the blue-haired man did not answer; instead, his footsteps created loud thuds against the concrete floor. by the time he’d reached your face, the fabric was torn off. you expected to see a face of satisfaction, maybe even glee, but instead he seemed… disappointed?
“damn it,” he huffed, throwing it to the ground. someone next to him mumbled his name, or alias, or whatever the hell they wanted to call it. lohen.
your attacker picked up a sheet of paper beside him, shoving it beside your head. “are you guys stupid? this isn’t the same person at all! look, her nose isn’t even the same shape!”
“wait— wait, wait, wait,” lohen’s face zoomed closer, if that was even possible. his breath blew against your face, minty hot. “shit.”
he turned around again, shouting at his subordinates now— “this isn’t some war-mongering assassin, she’s the princess! shit, shit, shit. when varka finds out, he’s gonna kill me…”
“varka? you know varka—“ you probed, only to fall short. you’d heard lohen’s name before, for sure. lohen… lohen, blue hair, violent type.
the air shifted. “wait, your the knight from the fifth company? the one that went rogue and defected?”
“errr, if i said yes?” lohen murmured anxiously.
phew, you thought, feet finally relaxing. he wouldn’t have any malicious intent, or you hoped so, considering he’d only left because of differences in tactics. despite that, his motives were the same as varka and your father. or, rather, that was the case a few months ago. if you focused hard enough, you could even remember him being in the background of some of the memories you had with the knights.
"nothing. i just... thought i recognised you."
for the first time in however long it had been since your kidnapping, you felt like you'd chipped away at a non-personified version of lohen. he laughed somewhat forcefully, but once his hands went back into his hair, you saw the red blooming underneath on his ears.
"well, that's unlikely. or maybe not. gah, i don't know," he walked over, removing the rope bound around with a surprising lack of force. "archons, this messes everything up. if i give you back, then i'm definitely gonna be on the chopping block..."
that was also true. though, yet again, your father had enough men at his disposal to locate you somewhat safely: his alliances from other kingdoms, the master strategist, his spymaster or his lead knight. hell, if you were lucky, maybe even some forgiving villagers would be concerned enough to strike down a search. neither option worked well for anyone, in any case.
"perhaps, whilst you try figure out what to do, i could stay with you? it's hardly smart to make a decision on a whim. and, i suppose it means i can't really sell you out or anything."
lohen was bewildered, or maybe even amused. but, after all the weird events of the past few months, is staying with an ex-soldier really so odd? well, maybe, but part of you couldn't help but want it anyway.
"if that's what you really want... then sure. i'd be delighted to have your company, princess.”
reader goes by she her with typical female anatomy.
a/n: reupload from my ao3 @/slipknotgf
summary: in which flins can’t resist your sleeping body.
tw / somno, noncon
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶
Inviting her to his grave was something he should not have considered, and especially something he should not have committed to. Alas, he had invited her, and there she was asleep on a sleeping bag. It was a particularly chilly night, one that Flins was entirely used to. But poor [Y/N] was not so accustomed. She was shivering, only a tad, unnoticeable to anyone except someone who was truly studying her. Flins, a night owl who thrived in the night with his lantern to guide him, was watching her with a look of great contemplation. He did not want to wake her as he cuddled her and gave her his warmth; he knew that she had already struggled to fall asleep.
With that in mind, he swallowed thickly before blowing a few deep breaths against his hand to warm it up. It was hard to resist her, her sweet voice, and her even sweeter personality. Once sufficiently warmed, he leaned closer to her to allow his hand to gently slide under her shirt and fall flat on her stomach. He let out a shaky exhale. This was the first time he had ever touched her in such a way, to truly feel her body heat against his. It was impeccable, and better than he ever could have imagined. His hand snaked around her side with feather-light ministrations, curious and searching. What did he want? He wondered it himself. Was it really just to provide some sort of warmth for her? Or did he have subconscious, ulterior motives that he did not want to acknowledge? They certainly did not make it to the forefront of his mind - not yet, at least. His now-warm hand had its own ideas, a mind of its own, as it drifted upward subconsiously, to seek even warmer areas of her body. His hand came into contact with the underside of a breast, and he gasped outwardly. It was amazing - how could her body produce so much warmth in certain areas and remain so cold in others? It was a marvel.
Under the guise of innocence, he cupped the underside of her breast with a large hand and barely squeezed. He did it just enough to feel the flesh spill through the gaps of his fingers, and he hummed a soft, quiet noise to himself. The tips of his fingers found a sweet, pebbled point at the middle of her breast, and he rolled it ever so gently. She did not stir a bit, and that amazed him, too. She was simply so awe-inspiring. Her body was captivating to poor Flins. That's why he couldn't help but touch her. He released her nipple and allowed his hand to further explore by tracing down her belly once more and resting atop her abdomen. It was full of life, he could tell, and that excited him to no end. He let out a breath as his fingers trailed along the seam of her pants' waistband.
"What are you hiding?" he whispered to himself, careful for his voice to remain inaudible so as not to wake her. His hand slipped beneath both waistbands of her garments, and an amused breath left him. He could feel a thatch of thick hair on her mound, and he ran his fingers through it. This was the hottest spot of them all, and it only got warmer as he slid his hand lower. His breath began to quicken and become shaky as his index finger slid in between her inner labia, caressing and greeting her slit. He continued to caress her slit, so lost in her that he was completely neglecting his own, heavily hardened member that was almost nestled between the cheeks of her rear as it pressed against the fabric of his pants.
“I won’t neglect your needs,” he whispered to her sleeping form while he felt her growing dampness. "Even if you are asleep, your body knows what it wants." The pad of his middle finger found a swelling nub full of nerves at the top of her vulva and began to circle it with slow, meaningful movements. With his gentle ministrations against her clitoris, he began to just slightly, just gently rock his hips against the plush cheeks of her ass. It was a quiet movement, one that barely even rustled his clothes in any way. "I'm sorry, [Y/N], it's just - just - I can't help myself when I am with you. You've aroused me, and I feel as if... this is not quite of an innocent nature anymore." His voice was still just a whisper of words, of breathlessness and almost silence. She would not wake this night.
Flins let out a small, unconscious whimper. He could not control the amount of sounds escaping his throat. Everything about this was taboo, was, though he would never admit it, wrong. But it felt too natural and too right for him to stop. It didn't take long for him to rut a little faster, moving his body in time with his strokes against her clit. He was almost ready to explode, to fully let go. He didn't care if it was in his pants; in fact, he found it quite poetic. It was a testament to his desire and the spell of utter helplessness she placed on him. Flins pushed his hips against her one more time, and that was it. His pants grew damper and damper as cum seeped through the fabric. Her unconscious body did not mirror his climax and remained dormant and asleep, though it had grown wet and swollen with arousal. He huffed at that realization. He wanted her to have cum, too, but continuing meant a higher risk of awakening, and he could not roll the dice and gamble with fate again. He felt wrong leaving her body wet and wanting, but he would make up for it in due time.
He extracted his large hand carefully from beneath her clothing, and he felt her tremble just slightly. Maybe that was the effect he had on her. He smiled to himself and rolled back over. He was already planning out when he would ask her over again.
