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[mischalovespancakes]

Hello there dear, I hope your day/night is going well! I was wondering If it was maybe possible for you to write A Ronin X Reader, with the Reader dealing with a nightmare/the after effects of having one? (I just recently Had one just yesterday, and it freaked me out a bit.) Please and thank you ever so so much. 🦝-Anon

• ° . ☆ Hellmade dreams ☆ . ° •

Pairing: Ronin x Reader Nightmare comfort

Word count: 415

Content warning: Nightmares, slight mentions of Angst, Ronin's route spoilers, might be ooc.

• Ever since you first video called, Ronin noticed the big black bags under your eyes, at first you brushed It off as nothing, But later on you admited avoiding to sleep, afraid of having nightmares.

• So now, After the event at the purgatory, he sleeps With you every single night without fail. He cuddles you to sleep and hold you close whenever you Wake up crying From a nightmare.

• If he ever needs to be away for a while, he talks you to sleep on call, Just so you dont feel like you are alone on this.

• Since he moved in, your nightmares didnt stop, but now they happened less often at least.

• Teases you about It at first, But then silently listen to you talk about what has been haunting your dreams and Kiss your forehead when you are done. Ronin knows how bad nightmares can get, It wasnt Uncommun for him to have very bad dreams About Ther and angelwood, seeing His lover die again and again, so of course he doenst want you to Go through the Same torture he did and comforts you on his own way.

• If you cannot sleep again, he Will get up with you and cook your favorite dishes along with a cool cup of water to help you calm down. You matter more for him than he tells.

• If you still Go to sleep Very late at night even when he Is With you? Fine. He Is a nightowl too, so you two spend time binge-watching series and movies. Ronin usually rathers watching horror stuff like the SAW franchise, But he doesnt want to risk giving you Anymore nightmares or night terrors, so you Just watch romcoms and cartoons instead. He doenst tell you that's the reason tho.

• Wakes you up by hugging you whenever he notices you are Having a bad dream.

• If you need to cry about It? You can cry to him, Just dont suffer on your own.

• Sometimes Pepperoni and Blackjack sleeps With you, Ronin noticed you seemed more comfortable to sleep With them around. Still, he Is worried About any of you rolling over them, so he secretly gets you plushies Instead. You wake up With a giant plushie in bed, But If you ask him? It was Casper the Friendly Ghost, not him.

Sorry for How long It took me, I Hope you didnt have Any bad dreams since!:(

[4crystalline-stars4]

Unrequited Love

He's suffering from heartache because you're in love with someone else.

Characters: Kaeya, Xiao, Alhaitham, Thoma, Zhongli, and Kaveh.

Kaeya:

Kaeya has liked you ever since you were both children. Back when he and Diluc pretended to be knights of Favonius that heroically saved you and Jean from Treasure Hoarders, Kaeya had always wanted to play your knight in shining armor. When you got injured while playing and started crying, Kaeya was always the first one to comfort you and help patch up your scrapes and bruises. His little crush on you prompted him to look out for you and protect you from harm to the best of his ability.

As the years passed, that crush developed into full-fledged love. After Kaeya’s falling out with Diluc, you were the only person remaining whom he considered a close friend and confidant. Despite how much he tried to distance himself from you, you wouldn’t have any of it, and persistently wormed your way into his life. You worked hard to keep your friendship alive by giving Kaeya the companionship he craved, and served as a shoulder for him to lean on during his lowest moments. When faced with your sincerity, acceptance, and kindness, how could Kaeya not fall even deeper in love with you?

He lived life by distancing himself from others. He didn’t want to be abandoned and hurt again the same way when his father left him all alone in Mondstadt as a child all those years ago. Kaeya didn’t want to grow attached to people and then suffer when those bonds inevitably broke, just like they did when Diluc shunned him once he revealed the truth about his origins. Kaeya knew better than that, yet your presence made him harbor hope that perhaps you were different.

You’ve known each other since childhood, so Kaeya naturally trusted you more than most. You had a deep bond of understanding and acceptance that made Kaeya hope that maybe he could find unconditional love with you. To have you by his side, being his sole light in this dark world, is all he ever wanted. To have just one person he can let down his walls around and bare his broken self to. These rosy fantasies floated in his mind whenever you were together, warming and soothing his scarred heart.

He should have known better, but he paid the price for his foolish hopes.

When you told Kaeya that you and Diluc got together, it felt as if a bucket of cold water was dumped on him. The sweet, golden fantasies were shattered, replaced with the harsh reality that you didn’t feel the same way about him.

Truly, he should have expected this outcome.

As children, Kaeya had wanted to be your knight in their games of pretend, but it was always Diluc who beat him to the punch. His brother was always the one to save you from the imaginary bad guys and be your hero, while Kaeya faded into the background and was forced to watch as you kissed Diluc’s cheek in thanks.

Kaeya was the first to comfort you when you got injured, but it was always Diluc who ultimately cheered you up and restored your smile. When his relationship with his brother became strained, most of your attention was focused on Diluc who was mourning the loss of his father, not on Kaeya who had also lost Krepus.

To you, Kaeya always came second, and this time was no exception.

Though the news shattered his heart, Kaeya expertly masked his pain with a smile. If you wanted to be just friends, then so be it. He would accept anything you gave him because he craved any scrap of your affection that badly. Your presence comforted him in a way nothing else did, not even his favorite Death After Noon which he resorted to when he wanted to numb the sorrow and forget the painful memories, if only for a few hours. He didn’t want to lose the care and gentleness you showed him, even if it meant suffering through the heartache of knowing that your acts of kindness towards him weren’t out of romantic love. Kaeya could tolerate it, he was sure. He would move on and learn to be happy for you and his brother.

Even if his conversations with Diluc became more awkward because as much as he tried to hide his heartbreak, Diluc knew Kaeya was suffering deep down, he would still smile and try to be happy.

Even if he felt bile rise in his throat when he watched you and Diluc share a kiss and profess your love, Kaeya would smile because you must never learn of his secret romantic feelings for you. His unwanted feelings.

Even if he silently cried alone at home after attending your wedding, grasping at his chest where his aching heart was and downing glass after glass of liquor, Kaeya will plaster on that same smile.

Even if his unrequited love for you never waned no matter how many years passed, Kaeya will continue to wear a smile and act happy for you despite his heart still longing for your love.

Maybe he can’t ever be genuinely happy for you and his brother, but he can at least pretend to be.

Xiao:

Xiao knew that befriending a human like you would only lead to disaster. No matter how many times he warned you to stay away from him because his karma would hurt you, you didn’t listen and continued to visit the lonely adeptus.

Xiao should have put an end to your visits by disappearing and relocating somewhere you wouldn’t be able to find him, but he didn’t. Something in him wanted to stay with you despite his better judgment. The way you brought him new trinkets and foods to try was endearing, albeit a waste of your time since Xiao seldom liked anything you brought.

He wasn’t sure why you were so adamant about befriending him, and when asked, you simply said that he seemed lonely and in need of a friend. Xiao found your reasoning naïve and even foolish since you were putting yourself in danger over an altruistic impulse, but no matter how much he pushed you away, you didn’t give up on him. You were persistent in your attempts to befriend the lonely adeptus, easily seeing through him. He only pushed you away because he was scared, not because he hated you.

Xiao wasn’t sure when exactly it happened, but one day he caught himself looking forward to your visits. He anticipated your arrival, patiently waiting for the moment he when would hear the familiar sound of your footsteps that made his heart race. His breath hitched and cheeks flushed when you smiled at him or playfully teased him. Anything you did sent his heart aflutter. Xiao was utterly smitten with you, yet he didn’t know what to do about these feelings. For now, he was content to simply let them be and enjoy these peaceful and happy days with you. He would explore these warm and airy feelings at his own pace and see where they lead.

However, these delicate emotions quickly turned as heavy as a boulder when you announced that you found a lover.

Xiao was surprised by the news since he didn’t think you had someone else you were as close to as him, if not more so. In hindsight, he should have expected it. You were a warm and friendly person, so it was only natural that you had other people you were close to in your life. This was how things should be. An adeptus like him did not belong by your side.

Though he was aware that it was for the best for you to find love and settle down with a fellow human, something inside Xiao’s chest ached at the thought. He was disappointed that he was not as special to you as he perceived, but he tried his best to ignore the pain and disappointment by burying them deep inside his heart. He tried to maintain the same demeanor he always did around you, but even you could tell that he seemed bothered by something. The way he became more reserved and aloof around you tipped you off that something weighed on his mind.

When you pressed him about it, he reluctantly confessed that he thought you would stop seeing him as much due to your new love. Despite your reassurances that you still wanted him around, as time progressed, you visited Xiao less and less often. You still brought him gifts and foods to try, but this time supplemented by comments about how your boyfriend Gaming gave them to you to try and give to your friends. Most of your conversations were no longer about your life anymore, instead now revolving around Gaming.

Your less frequent visits worried Xiao, so he sometimes stopped by Liyue Harbor to check in on you to see if you were alright. That was how Xiao found himself observing the progression of your relationship with Gaming.

As he watched you stroll around the harbor with the cheerful boy, Xiao found himself yearning to be the one you looped your arms around.

To be the one to make you smile and laugh.

To be the one to hold your hand and kiss you sweetly on the lips.

He wanted to be in Gaming’s shoes and discover what it’s like to be loved by you. However, each and every time, he shoved those thoughts and desires into the farthest recess of his mind, locking them away. He will not interfere, it is not his place. It’s better for everyone if you don’t love him. You would only get hurt being around him if you do. As a human, you would inevitably get hurt by his karma, and Xiao would never forgive himself if that happened.

If one day you drifted apart because you no longer had time for him, Xiao would accept it. It will hurt, but he will accept it.

It’s better this way, he tells himself. It’s better for you to love a fellow human, especially one that treats you right and makes you happy the way Gaming does. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t the one to give you happiness—all that ultimately mattered was that you were happy, even if not with him. Not that he truly believed he could make you happy…

He’s too dangerous to be worthy of your love, so it’s better this way…

It’s better this way.

Alhaitham:

When Alhaitham invited you over to his house, he never imagined that he was setting himself up for utter heartache. The number of times he invited a person over can be counted on one hand, yet you were one of the chosen few who piqued his interest enough to invite you to his private space. You were not a genius like him, but that did not matter. You understood his worldview and didn’t criticize him for his introverted personality, which he appreciated. Plus, you weren’t afraid to stand up to him if you thought he was being too cold or antisocial, and actively challenged him to step out of his comfort zone every now and then.

Having invited you to his house, you inevitably met his mess of a roommate. When you and Kaveh instantly hit it off, Alhaitham thought nothing of it at the time. The two of you got along, and Kaveh nagged at him less which was good enough for him.

However, with Kaveh being introduced into your life, your unusual friendship with Alhaitham started to change. Whenever you expressed a desire to come over or hang out with Alhaitham, you would always ask if Kaveh could join. Every time you met up with Alhaitham to share literature or get a cup of coffee, your topic of conversation would deviate to Kaveh.

The Scribe was no fool, and he could instantly tell that you developed feelings for his roommate. Something weighed heavy in his chest at that realization, but he chose not to ponder on that feeling too much, and simply brushed it aside. Alhaitham believed in letting people have free will over the development of their lives, so he didn’t stop you from seeking out the company of the architect, even when it resulted in you canceling plans with him.

Kaveh expressed similar behavior to you, constantly asking and talking about you like a schoolboy with a crush. It didn’t take much for the Scribe to figure out that the architect returned your romantic feelings. At the back of his mind, Alhaitham knew what this could result in, but even if something in him disliked the idea, he let things play their natural course. He figured you would know better than to go for Kaveh, a person plagued with deep-rooted issues that not just anyone could deal with.

It was only when he came home one day to find you cuddling up to and kissing Kaveh did that heavy feeling return with a vengeance. The sight of your happy smiles, the sound of your laughter, and the knowledge that Kaveh made you happier than you could ever be with him, weighed heavy on his chest like a boulder. It was difficult to breathe.

However, Alhaitham remained the picture of indifference and carried on to his room. You and Kaveh only spared him with a brief greeting before returning to your little romantic bubble, none the wiser about how the Scribe felt. Alhaitham himself didn’t know what he was feeling, and it wasn’t until much later when he was struggling to focus on reading his book did it finally hit him that he was heartbroken. His chest felt heavy with sadness and disappointment because he loved you, yet you did not want his love.

The realization came far too late, and Alhaitham was left with no choice but to accept that you would not be his. Maybe if he realized his feelings sooner the outcome would have been different? Maybe if he never invited you over, you wouldn’t have fallen for Kaveh? These questions, among various others, plagued him like a bad aftertaste in his mouth.

It was too late to change anything. You made your choice, and Alhaitham will respect it.

He hid his heartache behind an aloof demeanor and curt responses, going about his days as usual. It would be best if both you and Kaveh never found out about his unrequited love to avoid unnecessary drama and complications. Even if some days it was difficult to push down the heavy feelings pressing on his chest, Alhaitham hid them well.

The only times his carefully crafted facade cracks is when you hang out with just him, lost in your own thoughts or distracted by an activity, unaware that Alhaitham is looking at you. If anyone took the time to study his gaze, they would see that despite his stoic expression, Alhaithm’s eyes reflected pure yearning and sadness. As soon as you looked at him, though, he would quickly look away to avoid you finding out the truth.

He will respect your decision, even if it hurts him.

He will hide his pain to protect your happiness and friendship.

Thoma:

Ever since he first met you, Thoma knew you were off-limits. You were Ayato’s fiancée, after all. As attractive as he found you, he couldn’t get too close to you since you were already taken. He should have been content with simply befriending and serving you the way he served Ayaka and Ayato.

At first, he was.

Ever since being introduced to him, you were placed in Thoma’s care to have the loyal retainer familiarize you with the Kamisato estate and the workings of the Clan when Ayato was too busy to do so. Thoma could tell you were out of your element being engaged to someone of high political and social standing like his Lord, so he did his best to ease your nerves and help you acclimate to your new home. He surmised that being isolated in such a large manor with none of your usual friends and family around must have been lonely, so he chose to become your first friend at the estate.

Thoma regularly snuck you out to play with stray cats and dogs, and watched your face light up in a joyous smile when the animals sought out your affection. Thoma also taught you the ropes about acting like a noble. Due to your nerves, you sometimes made mistakes, but Thoma always helped you feel better by laughing off your blunders. When you expressed a desire to see your family and friends, Thoma accompanied you to the city and served as your protector. He knew what it felt like to be stranded away from family since he was separated from his mother in Mondstadt long ago, and he didn’t want you to miss your family the way he did.

Somewhere along the way, Thoma caught feelings.

He didn’t realize it immediately. It just hit him one day when he watched you and Ayato share an intimate moment on the veranda. He felt jealous and protective of you as he watched Ayato tenderly stroke your cheek and lean in for a kiss.

Thoma didn’t hate Ayato for being the one to capture your heart. He owed a lot to both the Kamisato siblings for accepting an immigrant like him and giving him a place to belong when nobody else in Inazuma did. He is eternally grateful to them for that. For this reason, his jealousy was quickly replaced with shame and guilt because he shouldn’t have feelings for you. You were Ayato’s fiancée, he knew that. You already have someone else in your heart, someone whom Thoma serves out of a sense of respect and loyalty. He would never have it in him to ruin the idyllic happiness shared between you and his Lord.

With no other option, Thoma chooses to keep his feelings for you hidden. He plays the role of your best friend perfectly, being mindful of not touching you unnecessarily or for longer than is appropriate, no matter how much he wants to. He maintains a respectful distance between you, both physically and figuratively.

Though he brushes aside your occasional puzzled glance at his sudden change in behavior, Ayato knows. Thoma can fool you, but he can’t fool Ayato. His Lord knows what’s really brewing behind the surface of the blond’s cheerful smile.

But Thoma steps back and shows Ayato that he has no intentions of getting in the way of his relationship with you. You do not love him the way you love Ayato, and that is the reality of the situation. If you want Thoma to be your friend, then he will happily remain as one, no matter how much his heart bleeds to not mean something more to you.

Thoma will smile for you, so you won’t know that something is wrong. Because nothing is wrong, he thinks. His feelings are not necessary, and he will do his best to move on to not impede the happiness of his Lord and yourself.

The only time he slipped up was when he tucked away a stray strand of your hair on your wedding day. His fingers brushed against the soft skin of your cheek for a bit longer than appropriate, but quickly pulled away to not rouse your suspicion any further. Wishing you luck, Thoma saw you off with that same warm smile plastered on his face as you prepared to meet up with Ayato to begin the wedding ceremony.

He will smile for you. Even if his heart feels like it’s being torn apart, and there’s a thick lump in his throat that makes it hard for him to speak, the least Thoma could do is smile. He will support you on your road to happiness, even if it’s not with him.

Zhongli:

Zhongli had met many people during his very long life, but few left as deep of an impression on him as you did. You were an ordinary human, a friend of Hu Tao’s he occasionally saw when you stopped by to chat with the funeral director. At first glance, there wasn’t anything particularly outstanding about you, but Zhongli found himself drawn to your energy.

When Hu Tao introduced you to him, he took an immediate liking to you and your boundless curiosity for the knowledge and stories he had to share. It was no secret that Zhongli was wise and well-informed about many things, and you saw him as a source of trivia and riveting tales about events long past.

Your undivided attention and bright eyes endeared you to Zhongli, and the god grew fond of you. He invited you to more outings where he shared interesting stories and answered any questions you had about anything at all. He had fun in your presence and was delighted to be called your dear friend.

Zhongli was well aware that there were deeper feelings brewing in his heart for you, but he was in no rush to explore or act upon them. He was content to take his time and allow your relationship with him to develop at a natural pace. Perhaps one day the two of you would grow even closer, and he would divulge his greatest secret to you about his hidden identity. For now, he would accompany you around Liyue as your friend, and share his boundless knowledge with you.

When you suddenly started zoning out during one of his long-winded speeches, he wondered if something was weighing on your mind. At first, you sheepishly brushed his concern away, saying it was nothing. When you began canceling your dates with Zhongli and scheduling fewer of them than usual, his concern deepened. When he asked for the reason behind these changes, your answer left him conflicted.

It was a charming young man from Snezhnaya, you divulged to Zhongli. A young man going by the name Tartaglia, with eyes the deepest blue you’ve ever seen, sporting a striking red scarf and mask that made him easy to spot in a crowd. Zhongli instantly knew you were talking about Childe, the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger.

He warned you about the dangers of associating yourself with a man like Tartaglia, but that didn’t stop you from meeting the Harbinger on a regular basis. You were enamored with that Snezhnayan rascal, and Zhongli could do nothing but watch as you abandoned his company in favor of Childe’s. You still considered Zhongli as a friend and tried to make time for him, but spurred by your romantic feelings, you chose to prioritize Tartaglia over the former archon.

Watching you run off to be with another man left a bitter feeling in the back of Zhongli’s throat, akin to the bitterness of green tea. But perhaps, things were better off this way. You were a human, whereas Zhongli was a god. He was an ancient being that had lived thousands of years and would continue to live for hundreds if not thousands more, long after your death. He does not age the way you do, not to mention that him being not human might put you off.

Yes, it was better for you to be with someone of your own kind, even if Zhongli disapproved of the man you had chosen. However, seeing how happy you were with Tartaglia, perhaps he was wrong about the impulsive Harbinger. Childe spoiled you with gifts and meals, took you out to see new sights that Zhongli could not, and gave you a vast array of new experiences that the ancient god couldn’t hope to give you. Not to mention, Childe was a fierce and reliable protector, so despite his dangerous occupation, you were in safe hands.

You smiled more with Tartaglia than you ever did with Zhongli, and he knew that he had lost. There were very few battles Zhongli had faced defeat in throughout his long life of fighting wars, but battles of the heart were not his forte. In the battlefield of love, he was the obvious loser. At least, he could accept that fact.

Or so he thought.

The day you announced you were leaving Liyue to go live with Tartaglia in Snezhnaya, made Zhongli’s blood run cold.

Zhongli had lost many people he held dear to him, so he was used to the pain and heartache that came with loss. It still inevitably hurt, but he knew how to cope with that loss better. Losing you was a different sort of heartache, though. Knowing there was a possibility he could see you, yet being denied that privilege because your love for another man was far stronger than your attachment to anything in Liyue was a bitter pill to swallow.

Just like all the other friends and comrades he had to part with, you were also leaving his life, yet your departure was voluntary. You simply did not need him anymore. Not the way he needed you, at least. You made your decision, and Zhongli will respect it, even if something in him is screaming to convince you to stay, to not leave him for good.

He sees you off with a carefully crafted smile and all the best wishes for your future in another land. As a parting gift, he gives you a beautifully ornate hairpin. A token of your friendship, he called it, though in reality, it was his unspoken love confession. Even if you never pick up on the hidden meaning, that was alright. As long as you kept his gift, a piece of his heart would always be with you.

Kaveh:

To Kaveh, you were a warm ray of light. Whenever he felt down due to bad customers or haunting memories about his father’s untimely death, you would always be there to get him out of his depressive state and prevent him from overindulging in alcohol. You knew how to get through to him when Alhaitham couldn’t, simply by speaking with empathy and gentleness towards him, which is something Kaveh greatly appreciated. Having been faced with tragedy after tragedy, and Alhaitham’s constant harsh criticisms, your gentleness was like a soothing balm to his wounded heart.

Against his wishes, Kaveh fell in love with you. How could he not when you were so understanding and kind? He knew your relationship with him was strictly platonic, but a part of him hoped that maybe you loved him too. That maybe the two of you could be more than friends.

Being a romantic, Kaveh had daydreamed about you a lot, doodling pictures of you in his sketchbook while spinning fantasies about being in a romantic relationship with you. He pictured all the various dates he would take you on, how he would lean in to kiss you for the first time, how he would profess his undying love and hear you say those same three words back to him.

“I love you.”

The day he got to hear you say those words did come, but unlike in his fantasies, your words were not directed at Kaveh. No, instead, you said them to Alhaitham.

It felt like something out of a bad dream the way Kaveh had accidentally stumbled upon your intimate moment with Alhaitham while stepping out of his room to get a drink. He stood behind the corner, getting a glimpse of you straddling Alhaitham’s lap on the living room couch, yet going unnoticed by either of you.

Hearing your earnest confession of love directed at Alhaitham of all people, made his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. Bile rose to his throat when Alhaitham awkwardly reciprocated your feelings and cupped your face in a tender gesture that Kaveh didn’t know the Scribe was even capable of. Once you started to lean closer to Alhaitham’s face, Kaveh quickly made it back to his room, slamming the door shut in his haste to get away from that sight. The loud sound alerted the both of you to his presence, but Kaveh was too heartbroken to care.

What followed were weeks of agonizing turmoil. Kaveh knew he should be happy for Alhaitham. The antisocial Scribe deserved to be happy with someone he loved, but a part of him felt resentful that you chose Alhaitham over him. His fights with Alhaitham became more frequent. Kaveh nitpicked everything Alhaitham did out of jealousy, sparking conflicts that were not as easily waved away and forgotten as before. That resentment turned into guilt as Kaveh felt like a horrible person and friend for being jealous. He didn’t want to argue with Alhaitham, but he couldn’t help himself when his emotions were such a mess. He couldn’t control the impulses.

Alhaitham wasn’t stupid and quickly figured out that Kaveh was lashing out at him because of his broken heart. He had known about Kaveh’s feelings for you. The architect didn’t even try to hide his infatuation towards you, and talked about you at length to him. But you had made your choice: you gave your heart to Alhaitham, not Kaveh, and Kaveh needed to respect that. Alhaitham didn’t mince his words when he told Kaveh he needed to let go of his feelings for you because you weren’t romantically interested in him, but instead of helping, it only hurt Kaveh worse.

Of course you chose Alhaitham and not him. Compared to Alhaitham, he had no money to speak of, no house, and a mountain of debt. Moreover, he tended to overindulge in alcohol and get moody easily, plus you often told him that he hurt you with his self-destructive behaviors… It was only reasonable that Alhaitham would be a better choice in your eyes. After all, he will never be good enough for you. Not a failure like him.

You would always be an unattainable light he will admire from afar but never touch because someone like him is unworthy of you. He’s unworthy of your love—your kindness, even—and you deserve someone much, much better who can truly make you happy.

Kaveh knew all that, yet it didn’t stop his heart from shattering to pieces every time he saw you with his roommate. It felt like his heart was pierced with multiple shards of glass every time he saw you give affection to Alhaitham, those same hugs and kisses he daydreamed about having with you, but he didn’t let it show. Kaveh would pull on a strained smile and pretend that everything was okay, pretend that he was genuinely happy for you. He truly wanted to be. Dear god did he try to be, but he could not. It hurt too much to see you with another.

When the pain became too much, Kaveh started to visit Lambad’s Tavern on a frequent basis. He wasn’t proud of himself for reverting back to his bad habit of getting blackout drunk to drown out his pain and sorrow, but it was the only thing that helped him cope with the heartache.

Kaveh would drink heavily almost on a daily basis. Lambad became witness to the many times Kaveh broke down crying, and many other times when he would laugh in a self-deprecating manner and smile wryly while muttering something under his breath.

The architect had to be regularly escorted home by his friends, preferably someone other than Alhaitham because Kaveh became quite volatile when the Scribe came to take his drunk friend home. So one time, you came to take him home. Kaveh's recent avoidance of you had become worrisome, and Alhaitham wouldn’t tell you why.

While carrying the plastered blond back to your boyfriend’s house, in his drunken haze, Kaveh had confessed to you. He babbled about how much he loved you, that he was sorry he wasn’t worthy of you, and how much he wished to be loved by you the same way.

He’s sorry he can’t be a good friend to you because of his feelings.

He’s sorry he’s such a mess.

He’s sorry. So very sorry.

[chai-writes-stuff]

sfw and nsfw headcanons — multiple x reader, SFW/NSFW

sfw and nsfw imagines for: diluc, xiao, childe, kaeya, venti, zhongli, thoma, scaramouche, and alhaitham. sfw hc's are related to romance, nsfw hc's are related to sexual dynamics! (this is from chai's old drafts.)

DILUC has no clue what he’s doing. He’s not good at recognizing others’ emotions, let alone his own, so he’s not even sure if he likes you for the longest time. He’s lucky that you recognize his feelings and act first, otherwise he may have gone his whole life without ever confessing. He’s horrible when it comes to gift-giving and is terrible at reading between the lines. Still, when he’s with you, he makes sure to give you his undivided attention. He likes to spend slow nights having dinner outside in the vineyard with you—you drink wine and he drinks grape juice.

DILUC, believe it or not, is rather forward when he wants to have sex. He’s not afraid to set a hand on your thigh or whatever it is to get the sentiment across. He has no preference whether it’s him or you on top, and he usually doesn’t communicate much, aside from affirmative squeezes. He’s pretty standard and vanilla in terms of his tastes. Afterwards, he likes to lay in silence, holding you in his arms.

XIAO is also a wreck when it comes to romantic affairs. As an adeptus, he fails to understand why you like half of the things you do. Despite not understanding, Xiao himself has “human likes” too. He would never admit it, but he enjoys kissing and cuddling just as much as you do—if not more.  He typically shows his affection through physical touch.

XIAO usually waits for you to initiate anything, rather than acting on his own urges. He prefers you being on top, but regardless of the position, he’ll make sure he’s able to hold your hand (preferably both) and kiss you. He usually doesn’t say much except for grunting and whispering your name when he’s close, but he appreciates when you are communicative in turn. Xiao states he doesn’t have time to think about kinks. You think he just appreciates things the standard way.

CHILDE is the type of guy to lay down thousands of mora to surround you in an endless sea of gifts. His concept of romance is very monetary, but there’s perhaps no better way that Childe knows to show his love. He’s an avid fan of skinship as well, and he’s an expert in stealing kisses. His normal idea of a “date” is beating the crap out of each other at the Golden House, or tag-teaming to launch an assault on some unsuspecting enemies. His more acceptable date ideas are taking you out to restaurants and boutiques far too expensive for the typical person to afford.

CHILDE is probably one of the kinkiest men alive. He sees sex in the same way he sees battle—both get his blood pumping and make him feel raw pleasure. He’ll do it wherever, whenever, and however—and if there’s biting, hitting, or slapping involved, all the better. He loves doing you from behind in particular, since he can pull your hair and slap your ass as much as he wants. Childe is extremely vocal in bed, and usually embarrasses the hell out of you in this way. One of his favorite things is eating you out in the morning as a wake-up call. Totally has a praise kink. (“Does that feel good, girlie? Tell me how good.”)

KAEYA is a true romantic, through and through. He likes to send you small letters everyday, ranging from the sweetest words with pressed flowers to the most bizarre Hilichurlian poems with odd drawings. He’s as sweet as he is naughty, which Kaeya especially makes evident when you’re working the bar at Angel’s Share. He’ll sneak anything from a tender nose kiss to a cheeky swat at your ass whenever he can. He also loves making it clear that you’re his through massive amounts of PDA.

KAEYA is a super low-effort guy when it comes to sex. He prefers you to be on top simply because he enjoys it when you do all the work. He usually makes cheeky comments in bed to tease you, but always makes sure to lavish you with sweet words of praise when it’s all over. One of Kaeya's favorite things is getting you to suck him off under his desk at the Knights of Favonius headquarters, or in the Angel’s Share storeroom. On the rare occasions where he does a majority of the work, you usually can’t walk straight for a few days afterwards.

VENTI isn’t the archon of love, but he sure acts like it. You had better bet that this accomplished bard spends all day crafting love songs and poems for you, and has no shame delivering them to you in public. Get him drunk and his musings about your beauty only grow twice as intense. Venti has no mora to spare on fancy dates, so he takes you out to the most beautiful parts of Mondstat instead, simply observing the landscape with you hand-in-hand.

VENTI loves to be fucked, in that he wholeheartedly enjoys when you are dominant and practically fucking yourself on him. He’s a huge fan of your boobs, and enjoys playing with them and sucking on them to his heart’s delight. Venti is a rather vocal man who’s not afraid to moan his throat hoarse. His kinks include light bondage (both on him and you), dirty talk, and being blindfolded.

ZHONGLI is a fan of affectionate appellations. You are his sweet, his love, his precious noctilucous jade. He’s about as monetary as Childe, minus the funds to support his ideations with. Zhongli loves to roam antique stores with you, looking for the most beautiful clothing and jewelry to accentuate his darling’s stunning charm. Ironically, he usually gets you to foot the bill.

ZHONGLI takes lovemaking as seriously as one possibly can. Everything needs to be perfect—the time, the setting, the details of the room…he’ll go so far as to light a hundred candles in a variety of elevations just to get the right “ambience”. He is always on top, and is usually exclusive to missionary. He likes eye contact and kissing, and he always whispers words of encouragement and praise to you. Zhongli can and will go for hours at a time, averaging out at about four per session. He’s very big on “I love you”s and is about as kinky as a rock.

THOMA is perhaps the sweetest lover you’ll ever find. He’s always praising you for your beauty, grace, and elegant form with your weapon of choice. He’s a doting kind of lover due to his housekeeping background, and always has your favorite snacks and drinks at the ready whenever you’re out training.  Not to mention, he knits gloves for you and gets you presents from you favorite confectionery whenever he can. Thoma enjoys very conventional dates—going out to eat, sightseeing, watching the fireworks, etc. It doesn’t really matter to him what you two do, so long as he gets to hold your hand through the whole of it.

THOMA and you are as cute as cute can be when it comes to sex. He’ll usually ask if it’s okay to touch you, which is your signal that he wants to make love. You’re both big on foreplay, as getting you properly warmed up is important to Thoma. This involves a lot of kisses to a lot of body parts and as much praise as possible. He doesn’t mind which one of you is on top, but in the rare moments that you request to be, he usually ends up a blushing mess and cums far sooner. As vanilla as Thoma might seem, he actually has a light bondage (him or you) and temperature play kink. Both he and you enjoy soft dripping wax. Big on aftercare, Thoma enjoys spooning and talking about how you made each other feel until you fall asleep.

SCARAMOUCHE doesn’t have a romantic bone in his whole body. He sees no need for such a thing, but he complies (although begrudgingly) whenever you drag him out on dates. If you’re looking for reassurance, it’s best to find it elsewhere—Scaramouche never voices how he truly feels. Still, he has a silent sense of respect that only those who know him as intimately as you do can recognize. He’s your typical tsundere.

SCARAMOUCHE is a certified freak, but so are you. He‘s an extreme sadist that does anything and everything he can to make you cry, including using his electro powers on you. He likes to be the one on top, but he allows you to ride him with your back to him when he’s feeling soft and doesn’t want you to see. He loves face-fucking and fucking you in your lab, as well as touching you in public. There’s usually physical repercussions if you cum without approval.

ALHAITHAM constantly references popular dating material while formulaically assessing your response to his advances. He’s not one that overly romantic in any sense of the word, but values spending quality time together doing nothing at all. Despite how he seems, he has a strong emotional attachment to you, and if requested of him, would go to the ends of the earth to keep you happy.

ALHAITHAM strongly believes that sex facilitates a happy, healthy relationship and uses data from established surveys to prove so. This is his excuse for liking sex so much, which you think is quite funny. It doesn’t take much for him to get going, and he makes his desires known quite forwardly. There’s a lot of rough kissing, soft touching, and hand-holding going on, as well as the occasional kink or two with blindfolds and semi-public forays among others. And yes, Alhaitham has sources to validate his opinions. An innocent Kaveh trying to get some rest may or may not have been harmed by this dynamic duo in the process.

a/n: ehhh i can't believe i wrote so many of these back in the day! i hope you enjoy them! if you are curious, i have posted content for alhaitham, childe, xiao, and scaramouche in my masterlist related to these hc's! anyway, if you liked what you read, please consider leaving a me a heart! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ reblogs and comments appreciated! if you would like to be tagged whenever i post genshin x reader, please check my rules here! thank you! icymi! chai's last non-lohen post: good boy, gorou nsfw oneshot (140 notes) masterlist

[qrimrose]

𝘿𝙄𝙎𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙋𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙁𝙐𝙇 ⊹ 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙈𝙚𝙣'𝙨 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙨

From slightly naughty to full-on rude, what do these men secretly want to do or already do in secret?

Featuring: Dottore, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Kaeya, Varka.

Intended for an adult audience. Cw: mature themes. Wc: 1-1.3k words each.

RESPECTFUL version.

A/N: I'm back from the dead, and I present unto thee a very long post.

Dottore 1k words

Would it disturb you to know that your Lord Dottore derives pleasure from watching you sleep?

The full moon has risen over Teyvat, calling upon all creatures to descend into slumber, but monsters rarely heed the call of the divine. Instead, the Doctor roams the halls of the Special Territory Research Institute looking for prey. His rats have fallen asleep in their cages, his monitors have been turned off, and his subordinates have returned to rest in their rooms. He walks alone with intentions unknown, the dripping of rainwater seeping through cracks in the metal ceiling harmonising with the echoes of his footsteps. He moves in one direction, determined. Like how the ocean’s tide reaches for the moon each night, it is the rainwater that leads the Heretic of The False Moon to your door where water pools outside the threshold. You reel him in to drown in your sea of dreams with the rhythmic rise of your chest and the quiet snores that escape your chapped lips he so badly wishes to kiss. You do all to entrance him by doing nothing at all. So, prey he has found in you.

To leave your door unlocked thinking the Fatui, including you, are the only ones to fear in this world was a foolish mistake.

Because sometimes, the call comes from within the house.

You convince yourself it is nothing, just your imagination playing deceptive games when the truth has yet to be revealed. The feeling of being watched must come from the Fatui’s security measures planted in the institute’s every corner. The strange bruises littering your arms you attribute to combat training. The wet footsteps leading away from your bedroom door are but the traces of a drunken Fatuus who must have mistaken your room for theirs in the darkness of the hall. There is a logical explanation for everything!

Your dismissal is exactly what Dottore had hypothesised would happen before conducting his experiment, for what is there to expect but nothing at all? It is easier to quietly deny than it is to convince others of your inexplicable suspicions without evidence.

However, evidence is clearly there for those with the eyes to see it. One morning, Dottore catches you trudging absentmindedly about the institute. Your tired eyes stare ahead into the hall as though you are transfixed by the trail of rainwater leading down the corridor of this metal maze of horrors. Each puddle you step in reflects different distorted images of you that do not mirror your current state, and as you proceed through the hall towards the laboratory where you assist your Lord with his research, the puddles develop a reddish hue as if reflecting something from above, but nothing on your person could be the cause of this. Nevertheless, it would seem to a colleague passing by that you are just fatigued. In truth, you are not fully conscious of your state.

That is why you do not notice your Lord fall into step with you, his heavy footsteps sounding like a distant echo in your mind, one that is almost familiar though you cannot figure out why. After admiring your lack of awareness and the shocked looks of some passing soldiers who bow in respect to demonstrate how unlike they are to you, Dottore inquires, with feigned obliviousness, about your sluggish attitude, to which you greet him with a salute a second too long after realising who asks. Nothing, my Lord, you explain, forgive me. He flashes a smile that showcases his sharpened teeth. What you do not see are the wide eyes of a madman beneath his mask.

And even if you had seen his full expression, nothing could allow you to process the logical explanation behind it when your mind is constantly distracted by the horrible images that come flooding while you sleep when the moon is at its zenith.

Monsters, murder, madness. Your body is unable to move nor scream. Pain surges through your veins where blood is pumped hastily by a heart that is ready to fail at any moment. The sky has been shred to pieces, planets and stars come falling from the firmament beyond, crushing the world as the blood of all life drips from the red moon above. Each image is vivid, palpable. It is as though the Abyss has made home in your subconscious and has seeped into your dreams like the Wild Hunt does through faults and fissures in the northern isles.

But the Abyss is not to blame for your circumstances. Just as the ocean is a reflection of the sky, so, too, is the Abyss to the horrors which roam above ground.

The horrors which roam flooded halls in search of prey as night falls.

You could awake abruptly in sweat, panting and heaving, and meet the darkness that consumes your room but your mind would not forget what it has seen. That is why you never process the cold metal against your forehead, the glow of something red in your peripheral vision, the soft whirring of a lab machine nearby, nor the sting of the syringe swiftly injected into your inner elbow before you fall back to sleep at the behest of the undivine.

You only ever hear the dripping of rainwater that has begun to flood into your room uninvited because it senses the presence of the moon nearby.

“In the realm of dreams, logic is unable to constrict possibility. It is thus the perfect laboratory to test how just a fragment of my fabricated divinity can reconstruct the mind’s understanding of what is and what can be.” The Doctor whispers while he lightly pushes the hair from your face as you shift in your sleep. He has knelt down on one knee beside your bed. His face is close to yours, so close, he can feel your warm breath hit his face, and he smiles.

The monitor nearby signals an almost complete copy and transferral of data from the moon marrow hooked to your head with cords. “You make an excellent test subject with how obedient you are. Tampering with the subconscious requires the absolute obliviousness of the conscious mind. And for this reason,” Dottore pauses when you whimper in your sleep, hushing you. “I must keep this a secret.”

You will surely safeguard his secret whether or not you ever realise the truth, lest you meet a terrible fate and your blood become that which reflects the moon, that which makes the Heretic’s moon red.

Wanderer/Scaramouche 1.1k words

To witness you cry both hurts and excites the aimless Wanderer whose moral compass has been tampered with by turbulent winds. He cannot resist the winds that lead him to sin, though it should be the winds who answer to him. He is a puppet to his own desires, a puppet with strings that have been caught tightly around your fingers, cutting deep enough into your skin to scar.

He understands his actions are wrong. The way he makes you second-guess yourself, instilling doubt and fear where neither have reason to be, is wrong. The way he mocks your mannerisms, your ideas, your voice is wrong. The way his chest clenches as if he has a heart to race at the sight of you crying is wrong. Angels of Virtue and Vice sit upon his shoulders, recording his deeds for when the heavens question his life choices, but what good does the threat of punishment in the afterlife do to the immortal who has lived lives of both evil and now, apparently, good?

The Wanderer does not know; he only feels, and that is what unsettles him most.

He begins with small, frustrating quips. Where anger is present, sadness often follows. He regularly approaches you at the Akademiya where you work on your history thesis for your upcoming defense. This document is your ticket to graduating with honours, to nation-wide recognition like all the scholars before you, but your defense is closer than you think. It looms over your shoulder, dissecting your words with unwarranted scrutiny, and that which has witnessed history has much to say about the credibility of the historical evidence cited on the paper before you. He is especially critical of your research topic: the centuries-long vacancy of the Harbingers’ sixth seat.

At first, you consider his comments as necessary advice, but furrowed brows, according to the Wanderer, are much prettier paired with a tear-stained face; he thus increases the dosage of poison lacing his words. 

What he foolishly does not expect is defiance against him. He is not a sage against whom you shall defend your hard work. He is—

Who are you? Leave me alone, you say as you shut your binder so that he may no longer see your work.

Scaramouche, The Balladeer, Shouki no Kami, Kunikuzushi, Kabukimono. The names cross his mind like quiet whispers stifled by wind. He only tsks in response.

It stings the first time you retaliate. Words of rebuttal leave your pretty lips more coherently than any argument you have written. Resistance was a rarity amongst Fatui subordinates whose lives were on the line. There is no act of treason when you insult him, however; there is only courage in the face of a bully. Your eyes reflect the anger he has planted within your soul. You spew hateful words as suffocating tension builds in the atmosphere, though it is only you who finds it difficult to breathe, for the puppet does not require air. Still, how frustrating it must be to the man who had, for centuries, persecuted anyone who defied Scaramouche. 

Yet your anger equally invigorates the Wanderer.

One must remember that he is a hollow vessel which has been promised an eternity to search for his purpose. Born from a branch once connected to Irminsul, he is fundamentally an appendage of something greater than himself though he serves little purpose on his own. So, it is no wonder he latches onto whatever will make him feel alive. That is how the fiercest winds work. The very winds that kiss the cheek on a hot summer’s day are present in the heaviest sandstorms that blind the eyes once wind has bound to the desert’s grain, the coldest blizzards that freeze the heart when frost intertwines with frigid air, and the hurricanes that drown the soul after the sea has claimed the sky for itself. The wind needs only one partner to cause disorder.

And he has found a partner in you. You challenge him, the man you see crossing out main points in your draft as you reach to grab your work back, as well as him, the man whom you have researched about without knowing of his existence at all.

The man whom you defend against himself.

You give the Wanderer reason to confront past and present. A shame you refuse him, but a leech does not seek permission to drain its victim for sustenance.

The Wanderer clings to you, the greater one in this strange duo of good and evil. He stalks you in the halls of the Akademiya. Belligerent and contentious, he convinces you of being lesser through never-ending criticism and insults. You try to run but the smoke from the fire he has set to the air has already settled into your lungs. Each word of his is a poison that kills you slowly, but does he realise he, too, drinks from the same vial? Speaking ill words not only unleashes sickness upon you but also unto himself. His tongue has already begun to rot from vulgarity.

He understands this is wrong; it only feels right. Good and evil quarrel inside the Wanderer’s mind while he feels the weight of his sins replace the burden of Scaramouche’s which he cannot escape because his immortality is itself eternal damnation. Death is but a dream. 

He is left utterly sickened by himself.

Thankfully, every sickness has a remedy, if not a cure. Your tears, like alcohol to a cut, burn and cleanse the wounds of his psyche as you beg him to release you from his psychological hold. All he hears, however, is a melody that is your cries. Like the strumming of a lyre, each sniffle, each whimper, momentarily releases the tension from the regret he holds against himself for his past. He almost forgets who he is when he sees you gasp for your breath as tears scrape against your soft skin. Is this the freedom of the wind which was promised to him upon receiving his Vision?

Scaramouche does not exist, but the branch of Irminsul which became him can never be erased without extirpating the Wanderer.

And how could he do that when he is your thesis and you— 

You’re evil, you say as you rip your thesis from his grip.

—are his defence?

“What is wrong with you?” You muffle your sobs with your sleeve so no one else in the House of Daena can hear you.

“Everything,” he whispers as he steps forward while you back into a wall behind a bookshelf. “Can’t you see? Or is that something you struggle with, too?”

“What do you want from me? Why are you like this?” You clutch your thesis to your chest where your heart resides, and in the chaos of his mind, he can imagine feeling your heart beat against his own cavernous chest.

“Don’t—” he hesitantly wipes a tear from your cheek as you flinch. “Don’t cry anymore.”

Honesty has never been a virtue recorded on his behalf. Secrecy, however, shall be written a thousand times over. Punishment shall consequently be exacted upon him by the heavens in the name of the good he pretends to be.

Alhaitham 1.3k words

There are countless words in the language of Teyvat, but Alhaitham is adamant that none can describe how enigmatic you are. And of all the languages that have died with civilizations lost to time, there are not enough words to describe what he feels for you. Nevertheless, he has become enamoured with the way you think, so he tries to understand you in the only way he thinks is possible: through the language of your mind.

In his hands is your journal of confessions, a treasure hoard of secrets that, unlike any novel he has read, covers all genres. A bad day transcribed into a journal entry that continues for numerous pages, a lovely conversation with a friend written down for memories, or a tense disagreement with a certain colleague recorded to unload frustration; these are cathartic snippets of your mind made easy to digest, though this journal was meant only to be seen by your desk drawer which can be locked with a special key. That key, however, is currently being held hostage within Alhaitham’s pockets, jingling next to his roommate’s. Like a shiny apple suspended upon the branch of a forbidden tree, the sight of your key left forgotten on your desk, which he could see from his office across the hall as you left for your lunch break, enticed him too much to ignore.

As long as it remains in his possession, so shall the journal, the key to unlocking the recesses of your mind where he may ensconce himself like a parasite in a metaphysical sense.

To Alhaitham, you are a puzzle, a scholar whose intelligence rivals anyone he has ever known. He truly is a feeble scholar in your presence, for your published works challenge him unlike deciphering any ancient rune. He has studied all of history’s words transcribed on papyrus, wood, and stone, and none share the same soulful depth and expression as does your writing. They are works of art deserving the attention of artists all over Teyvat because a mind like yours is art itself. And like ancient runes waiting to be translated, he only wishes to comprehend how you think.

To fulfill that wish, he must study.

Repeated exposure to the content is necessary. When you leave work, Alhaitham hides in your office while he interprets every word printed by your hand. His feet are propped up on your desk as he leans back into your chair, relishing in the comfort of the cushion despite the fact his office chair is of the same quality. The blinds covering the window on your locked door are pulled close to keep secret his surreptitious activities from other colleagues. This is his sanctuary.

Analysing the structure and language is equally important. Unlike your academic work, your journal is unrefined. Sentences jump from one thought to another feeling. While your voice is casual, there is subtext attached to every word he underlines. Names of colleagues and friends manifest repeatedly, but it is only his name he cares for.

Alhaitham is so annoying, so terribly tiresome, you wrote in an entry, but all Alhaitham can do is blush at your mention of his name. I can’t work with him. He never listens. Always wearing those gaudy headphones! Sometimes I wonder, though, if he pretends to not hear me because he doesn’t like me—

You complain of his inability to hold a conversation, and he finds himself arguing with the paper. With your pen, he writes rebuttals in the margins and slots ink between the lines of your writing as if to interrupt your flow of thought. Why endure boring work-place small talk required of superficial, collegial etiquette when he can, with your journal, plunge into the depths of your mind which are informed by the feelings in your soul? Besides, by doing so, he will not have to be so annoying, so terribly tiresome.

It does not unnerve him that you think this way, that must be why he spends so much time searching for other mentions of his name. His roommate seldom inquires why he seems distracted when he comes home, but Alhaitham does not hear because his mind is busy trying to comprehend why you had been frustrated by his recommendation to post-pone a meeting between scribes, why you had taken offence to his minute re-organisation of documents for a shared project, and why you had taken it to heart when he only hummed to say hello when you had greeted him—

How you think deeply unnerves him, but Alhaitham does not voice his opinions so easily aloud. Writing, nonetheless, allows him to articulate his thoughts.

He writes quickly as his mind races with thoughts that try to make sense of you. What an achievement it is on your part to befuddle the man who avoids all distractions in order to stay focused! Neat printing muddles into scribbles resembling damaged hieroglyphs as his sentences squish against each other along margins no less than two centimeters wide. Lines and arrows connecting ideas are the threads meant to weave his thoughts together into a blanket that threatens to cover and suffocate your mind spilled out in written confession. These are the pages of a madman.

And when he cannot comprehend, what then? One should ask: what does a parasite do to its host once it assumes control?

It attempts to change how it thinks. 

Negative adjectives are wiped clean with white ink and re-written. Alhaitham is so understanding, so genuinely genial. Mentions of others whom you praise are replaced with his name written with careful precision to replicate your handwriting. Clearly, his actions are evidence that it is his own mind he wishes to fool. Reality made fiction for his sanity’s sake.

The weight of his additions makes the journal cumbersome to hold as if he has woven parts of his soul into it. Two minds in chaos. Though paper bound by glue is not sufficient to carry such weight. It thus follows that chaos leaks from pages of semi-fiction to reality at the hands of the madman whose soul exists between real and imaginary.

Right in front of you, at work, at meetings, at the tavern, at the bazaar, Alhaitham carries your journal masked in a blank paper cover. You assume he is innocently journaling about things unimportant to you, or that he is organising his thoughts just as any good scribe would do. The thought of him writing in your missing journal is completely unreasonable, downright absurd! 

That is how the madman believes you, the sane, should think.

Alhaitham is obsessed with your idea of him as he is obsessed with the idea of you, and he shall control what he can through edits of your journal as though he is changing history. 

It seems what truly makes a person mad is the curiosity of understanding things that were never meant to be known.

“What has you so invested that you won’t help with our upcoming project?” You try to peek over the desk to see what he is reading after barging into his office, but he tilts the top of the book toward his face, covering the lower half of his expression where his smirk hides. 

Alhaitham sinks into his chair. “Since when have you ever wanted to work with me?”

Confused, you furrow your brows before hesitatingly saying, “Put your novel down. The characters aren’t going anywhere.” You turn to leave.

“You sure?”

You stop abruptly at the door and grumble. “If you won’t help with work, then…maybe you can help with something else. It’s the least you can do when you don’t do anything. I’ve recently lost a key and—hey, are you listening?”

Alhaitham flips through the pages of this journal of his and yours which is written proof of your minds bound together in prose, but he sees no reason for you to understand him through the language of his mind.

He then slides the journal into his pocket with your key. “So, what is it you’re missing?”

One must remember: a parasite does not rule alongside its host.

Kaeya 1k words

The indirect kiss is the most honourable of dishonourable deeds, Kaeya thinks, for it does no true harm. What cannot harm cannot be bad, right? A knight cannot harm and must be honourable in everything he does; so therefore, a knight can only choose to do good and adiaphorous deeds. Honour is the code of law by which all Knights of Favonius follow to reduce harm and garner respect from the people so that Mondstadt will continue to flourish in peace. This is what they had promised Barbatos on the day of knighthood to fulfil and maintain, and to break such a promise would be to dishonour their god and thus do harm. It follows that the profession of a knight will come with sacrifices where honour and personal desire cannot overlap if goodness will be infringed upon.

But if the honour demonstrated by the knight is ultimately for the people, where is the harm in being just a little dishonourable if no one is to notice?

Angel’s Share is crowded with knights, civilians, and bards on this hot night, but despite all the singing and dancing that would normally captivate Kaeya, he is enchanted by only you. You do not dance with drunken tease nor sing lines in slurred speech; instead, you sit upon your chair across from him, chugging a large glass of wine the Grand Master had dared you to drink whilst your fellow knights cheered you on.

Kaeya cannot ignore the wine dribbling down your chin and splattering onto your armour like blood spilled in battle. Rather, he would liken the sight to paint that drips from the canvas on which has been created a masterpiece, one worth being stolen in a grand heist to keep for oneself to admire alone. But he cannot take so easily. That would be most dishonourable. Besides, he feels the eyes of his brother nearby who knows he is up to no good. He watches him like a hawk from behind the bar, as he should be for Kaeya is indeed teetering on the line between good and bad.

The knight knows he must be discrete. His honour is on the line; that is what makes this all so exhilarating.

You set the glass down, a little wine still left inside while red stains your plush lips, before you hastily arise from your seat and, with some of your fellow knights, head to the center of the tavern which has been made a dance floor. It is now a duel between the drunk hollering of restless knights and the thin-stringed harps of bards with weary impatience.

A window of opportunity; this is the moment to strike swiftly like a gust of wind that comes and goes before one can take a complete breath.

Kaeya’s gloved fingers inch towards the glass across the table while his good eye locks onto your dancing form. The way you stumble around with two left feet, the way you lean onto another knight to keep your balance, and the way you laugh at his ill-attempted jokes does all to irk the dishonourable knight who, burdened by envy, unintentionally chills the wine with his Vision upon grasping your glass which fits so naturally with his character. No one would ever take a second look at Kaeya drinking wine.

In truth, drinking wine is befitting of all in the nation. Wine is the blood of Mondstadt, the very drink of Barbatos. It connects all those who believe themselves to be children of the free winds to the Anemo god.

Kaeya, however, does not seek a connection with his Lord, but rather, with a paladin whose honour and respect outweighs his own.

So, he takes a sip from your glass. The wine is tart against his tongue, but your saliva that coats the rim is as sweet as the fresh grapes that grow from the vineyard of his old home. This wine—your blood—quenches his thirst unlike any other, so much so he could almost consider abstaining from all liquor until his final breath if he were told none would taste as good as your indirect kiss. Kaeya takes it as a sign that he has done the right thing; that if Barbatos were to have seen him commit such a disrespectful and dishonourable act, he would pardon his sin, for you and him are bound in a way inexplicable to the non-believer.

But the ritual is not yet complete. Kaeya pushes the glass towards your seat when you come staggering back. You plomp down onto your seat and mindlessly take a swig of your glass, oblivious to what taints the rim and liquor. Your drink is cold unlike how it was before abandoning your post, but this is not a detail you will remember in the morning. Just how it should be. Like frost that nips at numbed skin, one is unaware of how one’s fingers have begun to rot until it is too late. In your case, however, you shall never know of the frost that has bitten you. He is quick and discrete, like a snowflake that melts upon hitting the skin, leaving one to think it was a drop of rain instead. Deceiving.

Upon noticing him across the table, you smile and wave giddily as you hiccup. Kaeya smiles back with a warmth that could melt your heart.

Harmlessly dishonourable is the deed no one notices; or so, that is what Kaeya thinks.

“I should report your reprehensible misbehaviour to Grand Master Varka. If not him, then surely Jean will imprison you for your wrongdoing.” With a cloth, Diluc wipes the glass that you had left on the table. The tavern has gone quiet with the retreat of knights after the bards finished their performances. There remains only the two brothers and a few passed-out drunkards. 

“Who’s going to believe what no one has seen?” Kaeya crosses his legs after taking a seat by the bar which he leans an arm on.

“Oh? I’m no one?” his brother deadpans. “So it wouldn’t hurt if no one said anything?”

“You’re no fun, Diluc.” Kaeya smirks. “Where's the bad in having a little fun?”

“Knights of Favonius.” Diluc huffs.

Kaeya ignores him. Although his brother is no longer a knight, it does no good to Diluc to lower the people’s respect for those who help protect Mondstadt, his home, especially when he has only recently begun to heal from the Ordo’s past undeniable misdeeds.

And so, Kaeya’s honour remains, sealed secret by kiss.

Varka 1.3k words

Some say that those who repeatedly cheat Death are protected by divine forces for their virtuous deeds. The Knight of Boreas bears scars inflicted by all beasts, his skin littered in slashes, scratches, and scores made by the iron and claws of enemies human and celestial. Yet he stands tall and strong like the rigid, unshakeable mountain of Dragonspine. He is like a god in human form with winds beneath his feet to lighten his steps as he marches towards glory. Blessed be the angels who look out for him.

Surely, such angels include you.

The white gauze wrapped around your soft hands are woven from the clouds upon which are built the heavens you have descended from. Your touch is as light as the morning dew weightlessly sitting atop mint leaves that speckle the green grounds of his Mondstadt. And your voice? Oh, how he loves the voice that reminds him to hold his breath, that the saline may sting, that he may look away momentarily as you heal him with holy water and a prayer, for it is a melody reminiscent of the hymns that escape the cathedral doors where devotees mispronounce your name for Barbatos’.

If you were to ask what was on his mind, you might be able to make him confess, reveal all that he keeps secret from this world and its sinners and saints who shall admit their deeds to their gods after departure; but you have no reason to question a hurt man seeking a healer.

So, he will keep from you the fact that he is not actually injured at all.

Through years of battle, Varka has built a tough exterior. Thick skin grows where his palms and fingers touch his claymores as well as where heavy armour sits on his body. He is the shield of Mondstadt. However, that wall of iron falls apart whenever he sees you walking around the knights’ headquarters, your Favonius nurse’s uniform loose and thin against your body to accommodate the heat of the approaching summer. The wind blows the fabric tight against your figure, and he praises Barbatos in a dirty curse that leaves his lips. How disgraceful.

His stoic stance falters and he feigns hurt, groaning out in pain as he limps towards you. Please, he begs, I think my wounds will need some more tending to. It has been months since his return to Mondstadt. He lies through wine-stained teeth.

The first time you healed him after battle, your voice wavered full of worry; your intonation resonated with his slow-beating heart, resurrecting him from his unconscious state. You kept him alive in that moment, not the Archons who bless and take Life from all living beings.

The blessing of Life can so easily be taken for granted, and those who have had the privilege of truly living rarely question the idea of seeing the sun set for the last time. Although to Varka, the thought of Death has always lingered in his mind like the pungent smell of smoke after hellfire has scorched the battlefield where his allies lay dead. He has always stood alone, barely living, with a soul neither dead nor alive. His life would play out before his eyes. Every selfish and selfless act. I could have done better, I could have been better, he thinks. When Death surrounds him and Life suffocates him, it is difficult to truly live in the present. He is stuck in a perpetual cycle of what has happened and what shall become with all the time he has. It is therefore no wonder he takes for granted that which is abundant to him: Life.

So, contrary to what may be inferred, your healing hands, which kept him alive, also brought him the closest he could be to Death; that is, to experiencing Life in his own understanding. You made Death and thus Life understandable to the one whom Death evades. He knew then that wanted you all to himself, as shamefully as possible. Though you are not only his to heal. Your duty comes to Mondstadt first.

Now, as you bandage his bare torso in the low-lit infirmary of the knights’ barracks, he wonders how your hands have stitched the wounds of his soldiers, too; how you have wiped with a cloth the sweat upon the brows of other knights, your chest so unintentionally close to their faces as they sat upon the very cot he sits on now; and how you have helped others stand who are truly injured unlike himself, hugging them close to your form.

And as you bend down and roll up the cuffs of his pants to check the healing progress of injuries you had bandaged upon his return home, he wonders whose wounds you have kissed better. Unashamedly, he thinks: who else have you brought back to life?

A light scowl tugs at his features.

Is something wrong, sir? you ask.

Nothing at all, he lies, for Varka has never truly been very religious.

That is why the thought of offending Barbatos for you does not disturb him as it would you, someone saintly. Perhaps he should disassemble the millennium-old Ordo, an organisation built in honour of the Anemo god, to keep other knights away from you. Or, if offending Barbatos would risk offending you, Varka could venture out in search of the greatest beast who shall inflict the greatest harm upon himself which would require only your attention and medical expertise. The search for a worthy opponent would be lengthy but the outcome would occupy your time for an equally long while. If he truly has the favour of the gods, he will always live to see the next day.

But will he be living to his greatest potential through such extremes in favour of selfish desires? Is this the reason why the gods keep him alive?

A lock of hair falls in front of your face, and he resists with all his might the urge to push it back, especially when you are kneeling before him as though you, a saint, wish to be knighted by the hand of a selfish liar—a sinner. Reality is a painful truth, and there is very little that can console him. 

Though what is real does not have to be painful. If he steps outside his mind, he can make the present worthwhile. He could truly live and not just be alive in search of an impossible death through you. It suddenly dawns upon the knight then: why think of tomorrow when today is promised and I have you all to myself at this very moment?

Although Mondstadt’s divinely-guarded leader can secretly fantasize about making you his personal nurse or declaring you an angel deserving worship, he is better off being someone to you now rather than you be something to him if he ever wishes to be worthy of a saint. He must change and live in his present.

“What would Mondstadt do without such a knowledgeable nurse?” Varka pretends to wince when you gently wrap his arm with a bandage. “I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“What would Mondstadt do without its leader?” You suddenly tighten the bandage, catching him off guard. His reaction is nevertheless delayed. You raise your brows and smile with a knowing look he ignores. “You have to be more careful for Mondstadt’s sake.”

“You know best.” He laughs and lifts a pinky. “For Mondstadt.”

The sun will rise as it does each day, and he will be there to see it because you give him Life. You have made it clear what he must live and die fighting for.

You interlock your pinky with his.

And it is not Mondstadt. It is instead you; Life.

A white lie is surely the first step to becoming an honest, respectful person worthy of you.

A/N: I wrote so much more than I had intended. I literally wrote three wildly different drafts each for Alhaitham, Wanderer, and Varka. My fingers hurt from typing. I truly hope you guys enjoyed reading! Anyways, I want to add that Kaeya and Varka can arguably be respectful men, but they are not at Diluc and Flins’ level of respectful, c’mon. They’re honourable drunks. I see the disrespectful potential in our Knights of Favonius.

Disclaimer: yandere fanfiction is not meant to be taken seriously, nor is it a portrayal of love/romance.

[momomibud]

Various!Genshin Men x Fem!Apothecary!Reader || Mondstadt Edition

A wandering apothecary, well known throughout Teyvat, but how do the men of Mondstadt first react to meeting her? . . || Fem!Reader || . . Featured Characters: Aether, Diluc, Kaeya, Lohen, Varka, and Venti (Not separate) . . A/n: Finally got this done after like 2 months of this being in my drafts

Warning: Slightly OOC Venti (Whose section is also like double everyone else's ToT)

Aether had heard of the infamous apothecary early on in his journey from the people of Mondstadt. A woman known far and wide for her extensive knowledge of medicinal herbs, poisons, and a near-perfect recollection of all plants in Teyvat.

Stories about her were common within the headquarters of the Knights of Favonius every time Aether visited, some knights saying she was the most insane woman they've ever met, others saying she was sweeter than sweet can be.

But just hearing about her wasn't enough to get a full picture; it wasn't until after the Dvalin threat was quelled that Aether met her face-to-face.

He first saw her talking to Jean, a smile evident on her features. A truly radiant smile, with a flush coming to the traveler's cheeks as he stared. Surely someone whose smile is that luminous couldn't be so strange, right?

Jean noticed him rather quickly, motioning for the Honorary Knight to join her and the wandering apothecary, whose name he learned was Y/n, in their conversation.

Aether was a bit nervous, unsure of how this particular meeting would go. Some said that Y/n was hard to get along with, or so he heard. Rumors of her butting heads with some of the knights weren't hard to come across.

Though as he stood between Y/n and Jean, he couldn't help but stare at her; she wasn't anything like the way the knights described her; she was actually pretty kind, a bit forthright, but still a rather patient person.

And when her eyes met his, a cute grin on her lips, he felt his heart skip a beat. Aether didn't even hear what she had asked him, soon apologizing and requesting her to repeat herself.

"You got hurt in that fight with Dvalin, right? I can patch you up if you'd like. Barbara's a bit busy at the moment, so I thought I could be of use."

His expression went blank at her statement, mouth open like a gaping fish. After a few moments, he clacked his jaw shut and nodded, albeit a little too enthusiastically.

Y/n guided him to the infirmary at the knight's headquarters, then, once settled, pulled out some bandages to wrap his lower arm where Dvalin had struck him.

"You're really strong, aren't you?"

He was caught off guard by her statement, only able to stare back in response. 

"It takes a lot of strength to go against a foe like Dvalin. I'm glad things were resolved peacefully, though."

Then she looked at him with a small grin and a look of relief in her eyes.

"Mondstadt is one of my favorite places in Teyvat... so... Thank you, Mister Honorary Knight. For helping the Knights of Favonius out, I mean."

God, he was going to explode if she kept looking at him like that.

Diluc's first meeting with the apothecary was... odd, to say the least.

A knock on his manor's door would usually be answered by one of the many maids or butlers running the household, but for some reason, Diluc felt compelled to answer it himself.

On the other side of the door stood a woman, her expression hard to read, almost neutral except for the bit of excitement hiding behind her eyes.

"Sorry to disturb you, Mister, but you have some poisonous plant roots on your grape vines."

Diluc stared back at her, brows lifting ever so slightly at her straightforwardness, "And... you're telling me this because...?"

A smile quickly spread across her face, "I'd like to take them, if you don't mind."

His lips pursed together before speaking, "If you're offering an extraction service, I'm not interested in buying-"

Her eyes widened, "Huh? Oh, no, nothing like that. I'd just like to take the roots. I'm not looking for payment. The roots themselves would be more than enough."

Diluc narrowed his eyes, glancing over at the vineyard to see what she was talking about, noticing a purplish root stemming from the ground and wrapping around the trellis.

"You... just want the root?"

The woman emphatically nodded, a sparkle appearing in her eyes, "Mmhm! They're uh— good for certain medicines."

Her gaze met his, a certain intensity to her expression, "I can take them and be out of your hair in, like, three minutes tops! I promise not to touch the grapes!"

Diluc looked at her, skepticism evident in his stare, "I suppose there's no harm in it; you don't mind if I supervise, do you?"

The woman shook her head rapidly, then turned around to squeal and jump up and down on the tips of her toes in excitement, mumbling under her breath, "Yeeeeessss~ I finally get a rare poisonous root from Mondstadt...! This is awesome~."

Diluc couldn't help but let out a small, if not totally silent, laugh, slightly amused by her sudden burst of joy. 

She practically raced over to the trellis with the dangerous root, picking and prodding at it with determined focus. Diluc noticed the way her hands were steady, unyielding in their pursuit. 

And as she carefully extracted it, Diluc couldn't help but stare with fascination. Her eyes were glinting with a certain spark, one that Diluc could only admire. 

Though when she finished, gathering the now-removed root and glancing back at him, he almost felt embarrassed for staring for so long.

The woman gave him a sheepish smile, a cute giggle escaping her, "Sorry for making you wait, and uh... thanks for the root."

"No problem." Diluc turned his gaze away from her to the place where the root once occupied. It was expertly cut, with no damage to the trellis or any of the grapevines, "Who exactly are you, anyway? I doubt any average citizen of Mondstadt would notice such a thing, let alone be able to handle it without issue."

She laughed, "I'm not from Mondstadt, actually; I just kinda wander from place to place, ya know? Oh, and the name's Y/n, I'm an apothecary."

Diluc hummed in response, "And I suppose you have some use for this particular plant for your practice?"

"It's more for experiments, really. I like to test things out."

She stood up rather quickly, bowing to Diluc with a joyful expression, "Thank you again, Mister. I'll be going now!"

And with those last words, she raced off into the woods near the Dawn Winery. 

A sudden pang in Diluc's chest hit him harder than he thought, an outstretched hand following her form for a moment before recoiling back. 

He didn't get to tell her his name, did he?

Kaeya's meeting with the wandering apothecary was a while back, long before the Traveler appeared in Mondstadt.

He liked to recall the memory from time to time, often musing about it and longing to see her again since he enjoyed her presence so much. 

It had happened by chance, with Kaeya on his way to the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, and Y/n standing in the middle of the square's fountain.

Kaeya had almost laughed out loud. Seeing a random girl poking through the fountain was such an intense gaze was definitely a comical sight.

"Did you lose something in there?" The Cavalry captain couldn't hide the smile on his lips and was far too amused to hold back the teasing lilt to his voice.

Without a moment of hesitation, the woman shook her head, not even bothering to speak. 

"Do you require some assistance then?"

A laugh escaped her, not sparing him a single glance, "Hardly. Besides, a knight wouldn't know the first thing about this."

Kaeya tilted his head to the side, trying to get a better view of what she was doing. Her gaze was set on the water before her, with her hands scraping something at the bottom of the fountain.

"...And what would that be?"

Her head snapped towards his direction, a big grin on her face, "Algae. What else?"

He had to admit, out of all the things she could have said, that was nowhere near what he expected. 

She turned back to the water, slowly lifting her scraping utensil and depositing the contents of the algae into a small pouch, "I saw this when I was at Good Hunter earlier, so I knew that I needed to check it out!"

Kaeya only stared at her, for once not able to give his typical witty response. 

The woman stepped out of the fountain, shaking off the excess water on her legs, then turning to leave the city, a pep in her step, and humming a small, cheerful tune.

 Since then, Kaeya has met this woman more often, learning she was an apothecary who experimented with random plants and poisons.

And as the knight sat in Angel's Share, swirling a glass of dandelion wine in his hand, he couldn't help but wish that she could visit Mondstadt more often, if only to enjoy her sweet smile and adorable laugh once more.

One of these days, Kaeya would be sure to ask her to have dinner with him and hopefully woo her with his enigmatic charm.

She had piqued Lohen's interest the moment he saw her, with the knights under his order only staring in worry as their vice captain completely forwent the mission to talk to the random girl poking around the poisonous flowerbed.

His usual Cheshire grin flourished on his handsome face, "You know those are poisonous, right?"

The woman only hummed back in response, picking up one particularly well-preserved flower with a cute little smile on her face as she admired it.

Lohen stepped closer, his gaze landing on that adorable smile, eyes narrowing with a mischievous glint, "You gonna poison somebody with that?"

She laughed, almost shocking Lohen, if not for how pretty it sounded to his ears.

"No way. This stuff could kill the average man with only a milligram of the venom in its stem. I wouldn't do that to anyone." The woman picked a few more flowers, careful not to let the toxin escape from the bottom, "I'll be testing it on myself anyway."

The knights who were just standing around waiting for Lohen to finish his impromptu conversation all let out choked coughs and held flabbergasted expressions as they stared at the woman.

"Testing on yourself? A pretty 'lil thing like you?"

The woman shot him a glare, rising from her crouched position in the flowerbed, "One, don't call me little, and two, I can handle just about any poison in Teyvat, just so you know."

Lohen chuckled, "No need to get hostile; as a knight, it's my duty to make sure the citizens of Mondstadt are all safe. Wouldn't want someone getting sick, right?"

She stared at him for a moment, eyeing his expression and evaluating his body language, before finally speaking, "Something tells me that's not your actual concern."

The mint-haired man tilted his head, still grinning away, "Oh? And what makes you think that, lovely?"

The woman narrowed her eyes at that term of endearment, but straightened her shoulders, crossing her arms and faced him squarely, "You're the Vice Captain of the Fifth Company, right? You're a poison fiend from what I've heard. So I'm sure you know this type of toxin isn't contagious when it infects the body."

He held up his hands in mock surrender, "You got me."

Lohen lowered his hands, "You're that apothecary everyone keeps talkin' about, right? Could I get a name to match the pretty face?"

The h/c-haired woman stared again, then sighed at her own realization. She picked up her bag and prepared to leave, "It's Y/n. And you can stop with the flattery; I don't give out poisons for free."

As she left, Lohen couldn't help but chuckle. She knew the whole time that he wanted her poisons, didn't she? How cute. He'd have to be more covert next time. 

And he hoped that that next time would be soon.

Varka found it hard to focus with such a loud commotion right outside his office. He could clearly hear Amber's worried shouts; she might as well have been screaming right in his ear for the difference it'd make.

Staring down at his mountain of paperwork, the Grandmaster let out a heavy sigh, then pushed himself up and out of his desk chair to see what was going on out there; it's not like he'd get any work done with that racket, nor did he want to.

His office door slid open, causing Amber to freeze mid-shout.

"G-grandmaster Varka!? I didn't realize you were in there...!" Embarrassment crossed the young outrider's features, "I'm really sorry for disturbing you, but I need to get this woman to Barbara A.S.A.P!"

Varka glanced at the woman next to Amber, someone he didn't recognize. But getting a good look at her, he couldn't help but think about how pretty she was, even with her expression clouded by some form of distress.

But as soon as he realized that he was just staring, Varka let out a small cough to cover his slightly more rosy cheeks, "Did a Hilichurl get you?"

The woman didn't respond, simply turning her gaze to the floor with pursed lips.

Varka glanced at Amber for an answer, which he got rather quickly.

"She ate some poisonous berries! I'm trying to get her to go to Barbara, but she's been refusing!!"

The Grandmaster's eyes widened, his head snapping to look at the woman again to confirm.

"And I told you that it's fine; I've ingested way worse toxins and come through just fine."

Amber huffed, taking hold of the woman's wrist, "If that really is the case, then a check-up won't hurt!"

The woman sighed, "It's really not necessary; I'd only be wasting Miss Barbara's time."

Their banter continued for a bit, Varka keeping his eye on the woman in front of him. Did he hear her right? Does she eat poisonous things on the regular? Why?

Varka laughed, catching both women off guard.

"Grandmaster Varka? This is hardly a laughing matter! Those berries could be killing her at this very moment!"

Varka showed a sheepish smile, "Sorry about that, but you don't happen to be that Apothecary everyone keeps talking about 'round here?"

The woman nodded after a few moments, almost hesitantly, "Whatever you heard, it's either not true, or my crimes have been greatly exaggerated."

The Grandmaster let out another laugh, "I was referring to an immunity to poisons you happen to have."

"Ah."

Silence stood between the three of them before this woman broke it, "So... can I go?"

Varka chuckled, while Amber stood with uncertainty in her gaze.

"If you start feeling sick, come back right away, alright?"

The woman did a mock salute before rushing out of the Knights of Favonius Headquarters.

Varka stared at her retreating figure, more amused than anything, a small hope in the back of his mind that he'd see her again.

A gust of wind nearly sent her flying off the tree, only barely escaping such a fate by taking hold of the branch she was sitting on at the last second.

Her curved blade nearly slipped from her fingers, catching the looped end with her other hand before it tumbled below. 

With narrowed eyes, she glanced around, at least as much as could while dangling from a branch.

Y/n couldn't see anyone, but there was definitely a person here. She felt it. With a quick pull, she was sitting on the branch again, sitting still with a few cursory looks around the giant tree in Windrise.

When nothing happened, she carefully lifted her blade to resume her previous task.

But of course, another gust of wind was pointed in her direction; thankfully, she was prepared enough not to skid too far off. 

"Whoever's doing that, you're being a real pain in the ass...!" Y/n glanced around again, an annoyed tone laced throughout her statement.

The branch she rested on dipped a bit as new weight was added, "Then stop messing with the Symbol of Mondstadt's Hero."

Y/n turned around and saw a shorter guy with deep black hair and an aqua-teal color fading in his front braids, a green outfit that looked like a fancy bard's getup. Her head tilted to the side, trying to get a good read on him, while his face was soft-looking and rather cute; however, his frown was evident, a look she could tell was unusual for him. 

"I'm just getting this mycelium; I'll be in and out quick." Y/n turned back to extract the mushrooms she had noticed growing on the side of the large oak tree. 

Another gust of wind nearly sent her right into the tree itself, which she stopped right before she faceplanted the hardened wood.

"Would you quit!? I'm not doin' anything bad here!"

She glanced over her shoulder at him again, his brows now furrowed deeply with puffed-out cheeks, "Not doing anything bad? You're clearly trying to hurt the tree!"

Y/n stared blankly at him, eyes trained on his expression and the small ways it fluctuated, from the crinkle between his brows to the flaring of his nostrils. Then, she spoke in a much less annoyed manner, "You're worried I'm hurting the tree? C'mere then."

The h/c-haired woman motioned for him to get closer, placing her blade back in its holster. 

Cautiously, the raven-haired guy took a few steps closer.

Y/n then pointed at the mushrooms on the tree, "These are parasitic and saprophytic mushrooms, you know what that means?" 

She didn't let him respond, instead pointing at the root point of the mycelium where signs of crackling wood were clear, "It's a wood-decay fungus, typically only feeding on dead trees; that's the saprophytic part, but when in dire need, it can grow on live trees to continue thriving, that's the parasitic part." 

The guy's eyes widened, leaning in slightly more.

She continued, "It's in a rather early stage of development, so it's not doing any damage right now, but if it's left to fester, it can kill the tree within two to five years."

He went silent, staring down at his lap in thought before finally speaking, "And you were trying to stop that from happening..."

His words were more of a statement to himself than to her, but after a few short moments, he looked back at Y/n, a much softer expression on his face, "Sorry... about that."

Y/n smiled at him, picking up her blade again, "No need for an apology, just let me finish this real quick."

Within the next few minutes, the fungi was completely extracted and placed into a pouch for safekeeping.

She had fully expected the stranger to be gone, but he stood at the bottom of the tree instead, almost like he was waiting for her.

"You good?"

He looked like he didn't know what to say, his eyes having a hard time meeting hers. But after a moment of pure awkward silence, he spoke, a slightly more cheerful grin on his lips, "Thank you. For helping the tree, I mean."

Y/n laughed, "It's no problem. I'd hate to see this big guy go down; it's such a relaxing spot here in Mondstadt, one of my favorites to come to when I'm passing through."

The guy looked up at the big tree, "Me too..."

Silence came between them again, but much less awkward this time.

When that silence was broken, a friendly chat arose, learning each other's names and professions, then talking for a while longer before splitting ways.

And the stranger, now known to her as Venti, couldn't help but wish to see her again, hoping she stops by Mondstadt again, sooner rather than later.

.

.

.

END

[thisismypage28]

*L and Light while chained together*

Light: What do you want for breakfast, Ryuzaki?

L: Gay Cheerios.

Light: I TOLD YOU TO STOP CALLING FRUIT LOOPS THAT!!

[notapairofpantz]

i KNOW he gives the greatest head of all time😼😼

[gachiaputa]

scary dog privilege with husband!franken stein ꒰ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

Everyone tells you that you're husband is weird, maybe a little bit creepy in his own way. And in theory, you can understand why people say that. He's awkwardly tall, the scars all over his body might seem scary at some point and the reflection of his glasses combined with the look on his face makes him look out of a horror movie. Not to mention the screw he has piercing his head.

But in practice, you can't imagine your husband scaring people. Stein has always been a sweetheart with you since day one, treating you softly and tenderly. Even with his quirks, he's managed to make a pretty girl like you care for him, and now his own mission for the rest of his life is keeping you by his side.

He loves your company, he can't believe someone other than Spirit can handle him, and he can turn rather clingy sometimes.

You never have problem walking alone in the street, everyone knows you're Stein's precious wife. And still, he usually walks you everywhere. Separation anxiety or something. He walks beside you, arm immediately looping around your waist because it's muscle memory at this point. He's tall as a shadow, thinking about the minutes he'd lose without you if he didn't accompany you home. Even if he's coming there too a few hours later.

When you walk, his gaze is fixed on you, not in the people on the sidewalk giving you side eyes. You've always been filled with questions of why. Why choose him, someone in the verge of madness, someone who would put his experiments before you without thinking? But that's a lie. You know it, Stein has made it very clear to you that you are his priority and then, everything else. You're his world, his soul and his sanity.

One night, when he comes back later than ever and you are somehow still awake, waiting for him, he lays in the bed between your legs, chin pressed in your chest as he looks up at you. His glasses are crooked and his forehead sweaty because he definitely came to you faster than he should. You lift your hand, screwing the screw for him.

"I hate it when we're apart," he admits, almost shy about it. "I missed you so much in the lab today. I miss you everywhere, actually. Spirit says I'm obsessed. Maybe I am"

You giggle softly and his whole face lights up in this awkward way only you get to see. "You can be. I'm obsessed with you too."

You lean in to kiss the tip of his nose, but he moves faster and suddenly his giving you a big kiss on the lips, with his hands squeezing your cheeks together.

a/n: revive this fandom i just finished the show. idk if this is ooc or not I DON'T CARE. send me ideas for more stein shit a/n 2: also this is for my girl @kamislop idk if you follow me here but i'm nora ok i'm not some random person tagging you i'm moviecritc's side blog

masterlist

[theunfortunate-author]

my daily affirmation as an author

[buddie-romance]

thank you ao3 for being an archive and not an algorithm. thank you for letting me like things without consequences, thank you for being free with no ads, thank you for having lawyers to defend our freedom of speech. thank you tag wranglers. thank you to all authors and thank you ao3

[writingdose]

being a writer is fun

[originalgenshinscenarios]

Second part of me being self indulgent! This time with guys!

This is kinda fun to do so if you'd like something like this with a character you like inbox is always open!

How would they act when they're in love? (Kaeya, Baizhu, Itto, Alhaitham, Ifa)

Reader is: gender neutral

Kaeya

A constant contradiction.

There is a lot he had to unpack. Maybe a little bit too much. It was overwhelming to a point where he suspected that he had it bad for you, more so than he thought.

You were close, that was for sure. He trusted you more than himself sometimes. Whatever was between you two felt far more vulnerable than he was comfortable with.

One thing you can expect for certain is that he's going to pretend a lot. Pretend he doesn't care, pretend he's not taking you seriously. Just anything to not allow himself get too attached.

He'd joke around, acting like a dramatic lover. Declaring how much he had missed you even if you talked an hour ago. Another times he'd find himself jealous whenever someone was getting too close to you- but he knew not to cause a scene.

Yet he'd distance himself from you. Despite yearning for you he didn't exactly indulge the thought of you being actually close. He wasn't sure what was holding him back. Maybe the voice in the back of his head telling him that you're better off without him, or maybe something else he wasn't aware of.

Still, no matter the nature of your relationship you made him happy. So even if sometimes he acted odd at the end of the day you felt how much he cared.

He always paid great attention to everything you said and some of his small gestures were incredibly romantic, but he'd purposefully ruin the moment when he'd be losing his ground and falling for you even deeper. Not until he was sure he'd be right to chase after it all.

Baizhu

Making excuses to see you.

Baizhu was never one to focus too much on relationships. He was constantly busy so it made sense he didn't search for a partner.

Lucky- or unlucky depending on how you look at it- for him, you found him first. And you were a constant reminder that he does actually crave a bit of romance every once in a while.

With his teasing nature your casual conversations were mixed with slight comments that were awfully easy to overlook. That was just how he wanted to play it. He got some thoughts out of his system and that was enough to share his affections, for now.

When you're away he sometimes he wonders how your day went, sometimes though when his mind was still at work mode he wondered if you were in good health and thinking if he should check on you when he has time.

Soon he found himself turning those thoughts into reality. Not often enough that he wasn't at the pharmacy when he was needed, but he would often excuse small visits.

Slowly it looked like he was nagging... But at some point his excuses were so ridiculous you knew that he just wanted to spend time with you so you enabled that to some degree. He made sure to respect the boundaries you've set.

This whole situation was ridiculous to Changsheng and the second you were out of earshot she'd complain about whatever you two had going on. Pointing out everything he said and explaining to him in detail how him thinking you'd fall for any of these lies were a direct insult to your intelligence- he laughed her complaints off and moved on like she hasn't spoken a word.

Itto

His brain is the last to catch up...

Itto never gave much thought to what exactly he thinks about you. When you met things just clicked and he didn't question how great you'd get along.

Relationship with you- as a great buddy of course- just felt natural. So it wasn't any weird that he felt like time with you was ever so more special.

It also wasn't weird at all that he wanted to impress you, nor that every time you needed help he'd move the mountains if you needed it- he'd do it for all his friends!

His heart raced when you called him cool, he couldn't stand being away from you, and when your hand did as like as brush against his, it felt like his face was at a competition with his horns as to what's more red.

What it would get for him to notice... Was if he got teased by the boys about his obvious crushing. Without thinking he'd confirm it, cause why wouldn't he love someone so great!?

And that flustered moment was when everything clicked. After his realization he felt like everything suddenly started making sense.

From that point on he'd instead try to figure out a great grand gesture he could do for you to express his feelings. But while he was thinking about it he changed the tracks a little and thought more what YOU would like, not what he feels like would be cool to do for the sake of it.

Alhaitham

It's a natural part of human experience.

He never thought much about romance. It wasn't like he was completely uninterested, but he always knew he wasn't going to chase looking for it like some people might.

His happiness never depended on wether or not someone would return his affections, thought of being rejected wasn't something he was afraid of either.

Although... Some of his views on the matter changed once he slowly started to realize that he might be interested in you. He definitely would be disappointed if you were not to return his feelings, but it wouldn't be the end of the world either.

Looking forward to spending time with anyone wasn't something he'd expect to be feeling so strongly. Luckily the new development was hardly a nuisance to him.

He had plenty of free time, so adjusting his schedule to yours was reasonable. Even just to share a quick meal together, or a small conversation about your day.

Usually he found smalltalk bothersome, but it coming from you felt more interesting. Probably because the topics you chose were usually of his interest as well.

Yet in the end he didn't make big deal out of his feelings for you. To him it was a simple case of asking you out officially. Time or place didn't matter to him as much as the message he had, so he wouldn't be wasting much time before making his move even if it would lack romantic atmosphere.

Ifa

A recharge he desperately needed.

Ever since the war came to an end, his workload sure was doubled, sometimes feels like it tripled even. As a caring friend, you checked on him everyday. Sometimes bringing him some food or snacks, and other times just offering some human company (no offense to Cacucu).

He wasn't much the kind of person to neglect himself like that. But after everything that happened he just wanted to make sure people and saurians don't grin and bear it. So of course he couldn't ignore those in need.

You lost the count of how many times you heard "You're a lifesaver bro" or something among those lines. It was true too, you were his hero every day.

Okay... Maybe it was more than that. He knew that he liked you. With the way Cacucu sometimes was laughing he suspected his saurian companion knew too.

So he wouldn't be surprised if you knew too. He wasn't ashamed of it so it's not like he'd freak out. Okay, maybe a little bit. But that's because you're a great bro-

And here was his main issue. He'd normally approach you and maybe ask you out but he wanted to avoid calling you in that dude-bro language in that context.

In the end he would be sometimes a little awkward around you, but that would be just because he'd try to get these words out of his vocabulary when addressing you. So each time he called you that way, he decided to let his confession wait for a better day...

[superman-creampieing-batman]

Just found out that DC has Tales of our own aka To3 as an Ao3 substitute.

The layout is a perfect copy! Someone in the DC office must be spending a considerable amount of time on the site 😏

People in the DC universe be reading all the Omega Batman/found family/ superbat fics with no shame whatsoever.

Imagine being a villain in the DC universe and ending your day by reading the nastiest and kinkiest superbat smut known to mankind after getting beaten up by one of them.

Edit: The comic is far sector.

[libertastandem]

YOU FOOLS KAEYA IS ALL BARK NO BITE

He will flirt with you but the moment you flirt back he turns into an awkward mess

[vilullabye]

Do you have any kink HCs for Killer Chat LI?

my fuzzy, pink handcuffs! - headcanons

NSFW | 18+ | All Killer Chat LIs x Reader

warnings: Extreme kinks (knifeplay, BDSM, petplay, bondage, etc) let me know if more warnings are needed

Ronin

He likes dom/sub and light BDSM dynamics, anything too extreme feels too scripted for him though. Likes the give and take of two people switching.

Mostly tops, he prefers it. Doesn’t hate being a lil submissive every now and then, but prefers to always end with him topping. You can try and tame him though, sweetheart <3

Definitely into rough sex…

Biting biting biting. This man loves to leave hickies and bruises.

Knife play!!! Would never cut too deep (if he cuts at all, doesn’t want his partner to be uncomfortable)

If Ronin cuts, it’s light pressure and sticks to your thighs and arms. Torso and head are off limits for him.

Will absolutely just press the cold metal to your skin and let you shudder as his warm hands wander your body.

Not super crazy about his partner calling him a title in bed. Unless you’re willing to call him The Devil’s Butcher…? 

Corruption kink... his darling begs “to be made worse” or to “become a mess” and he’s a lil manic at that

Angel

Big switch vibes! Angel likes giving and receiving a lot. 

Likes a mixture of passionate, soft sex and rougher, messier sex. Depends on her mood!

She likes mutual masturbation a lot; Angel likes the vulnerability it requires.

Low-key maybe bondage? Not on her, but maybe on you, sweetheart? Angel would like to know that she has control over the situation and that she can’t be touched unexpectedly. 

Being able to use her partner for her pleasure while they’re tied down? And just taking care of her own needs? Heavenly.

Probably likes to hear you beg…gives her a sense of power as well…

She’ll always give into your needs. Angel wants you to feel good as she’s feeling <3 She has always been a bit of a people pleaser…will do the most for you.

Angel loves praise as well. Wants to praise her partner and for them to praise her back. Makes her feel safe.

Gracious use of pet names like baby and sweetheart 

Probably likes biting and leaving hickies as well. It’s not helping the cannibal allegations though…

Misaki

Gives me switch vibes as well!

Misaki in general is also going to be a lil silly during sex. Don’t get them wrong, they’re enjoying this!! But the bit stops for no one and no unholy act.

Big praise kink. Praise them and they turn red and flushed and stammering.

Maybe along with a praise kink writing? She thinks it’s equal parts sweet and sexy to have a visual of all the praise you have for each other along both of your bodies.

Misaki might get distracted and start drawing silly kitties on your thighs…

Likes overstimulation for both themself and their partner. Nothing sounds hotter to her then cumming until you both are panting and holding each other right before passing out.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, but still hot for her: edging. Edging both of you before overstimulation? Soooo good.

Misaki is silly enough to get into roleplay. She will knock on the door of her own trailer to “deliver” something to you. Or dip into some more intense BDSM where you might need to be punished… 

They would dress up for roleplay. From suits to costumes, they’re committed to the roleplay

V

Gives off service top vibes to me; will be happy to switch for his partner as well! Prefers to give rather than receive. What matters to him is your pleasure.

Probably likes more passionate, slow sex compared to rougher sex (but don’t get him wrong, rough sex can be good once in a while…)

Probably definitely into petplay. V likes the idea of taking care of his partner, and if his partner wants to be treated like a prized pet he’s more than okay with that. 

Clicker training is a yes for him that’s along the same vein as petplay. He’s a soft dom, loves to have this kind of gentle, willing control over you

If he’s in a certain mood, he could be convinced to do some predator/prey kink. V has plenty of mansions and private properties to chase you through and pin you down…

Would always treat you so nicely, laughs so sweetly once he finds you while his chest heaves from exertion before bridal carrying you to his bedroom.

A bit of an oral fixation. He can make you feel good and watch your expression? And maybe you tugging on his hair for more feels good for him…

a/n: forgive me everyone, i see the other requests and they will be written!! This just sparked my creativity…for normal reasons. 

Ribbon dividers by cursed-carmine

Fic title from song - Juno by Sabrina Carpenter

[deadmaxim]

KAEYA ART <3

тгк: deadmaxim