Monterey Bay Aquarium
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roma★
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if i look back, i am lost
we're not kids anymore.
Game of Thrones Daily
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Discoholic 🪩
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@tillyalf427
Hey! I write stuff sometimes, thought I'd add a masterlist of any of the stuff I've posted on here so far
Genshin impact
Lohen (x Varka/Illuga/Flins) Omegaverse thoughts
Sick! Lyney x reader
Bungo stray dogs
Don't hide - Verlaine x gender neutral reader
Verlaine+Rimbaud x reader nsfw headcanons
Clueless - Platonic! Akutagawa Gin & Verlaine
Just the touch of your love - Rimbaud x Verlaine fluff
hihi, can I request a cyno x reader who likes to tease him and flirt with him a lot? he's canonically a bit shy so I think this would be cute :3
also I hope you're doing good!! remember to take breaks and rest whenever you can! ( •̀ ᴗ - )
-🥀
Sorry for the long wait 🥹
Hope you like it tho!!!
⯎Whenever you drop a sudden, heavy flirt, like whispering something suggestive or complimenting his bare torso, his brain completely short-circuits. He will freeze mid-sentence, his gaze locking straight ahead while his ears turn a vibrant crimson
⯎When he gets truly overwhelmed by your teasing, he instinctively pulls his huge jackal headdress lower over his face. He will try to peer at you strictly through his silver bangs, hoping you cannot see how red his cheeks are
⯎If you tease him about being blushing or shy, he will immediately deflect by using clinical, academic phrasing. He will mutter something about "the ambient temperature of the Great Red Sand affecting his circulatory system," refusing to admit you rattled him
⯎On the rare occasion that you genuinely laugh at his bad pun instead of teasing him, his shyness evaporates for a split second, replaced by a massive, proud, and incredibly soft smile
⯎He hates always being the one on the defensive. Occasionally, he will summon his courage, lean in closely to your ear, and try to whisper a deeply serious, possessive line or a smooth bit of wordplay to fluster you back
⯎The second he sees that his counter-flirt actually worked and made you blush, his confidence instantly vanishes. He will immediately turn his face into your shoulder or pull a blanket over his head, completely defeated by his own romantic success
(人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+
ship: illuga x reader warnings: lots and lots of self-hatred and some sui id
additional information: - requested work (fits criteria) - word count: 870 - contains: cuddling and kisses - characters: illuga, reader
author's note: wormie invasion => food
cuddle the pain away
"C'mere."
"What?"
Illuga holds out his arm expectantly, looking straight into your eyes. You stare at him questioningly before hesitantly scooting forward to slot yourself into the space he's created. Your thighs press together as you settle further into the comfy beanbag, and his arm is a welcome weight around your shoulders.
He turns so that he's facing you, worry etched into his face. You look downwards. You don't want to disturb him.
For all your screaming and pleading for someone to notice, you sure do hate it when someone notices.
Illuga's hand finds your chin and lifts it upward for you to meet his eyes again. You stare into them for one moment before looking away.
His gaze is honest and pure. His gaze is full of a desire to help you. His gaze is full of love for you.
You can't take it. You don't think that you want to be all raw and vulnerable right now. Your troubles must be kept to yourself. You have always suffered in silence and to put everything out there feels too—feels too—
"I love you."
To hear him say it...devastates you. Why does he love you? Why does he want to be with you? You're hurt. You're broken. You're too terrible for this, terrible for worrying him, terrible for being the way you are—
"I will always love you."
You sniffle. Illuga draws you closer to him, laying your head in the crook of his shoulder and wrapping his arms around your body.
He's so warm. You feel so cold right now...
The warm, soothing presence of another living, breathing body beneath you, Illuga's arms around your back, his voice whispering reassurances into your ears...
How can he find it in himself to treat a corpse like this?
You feel dead already. Everything died a long time ago. This, whatever this is, is not what you meant to be. It is not what you would've ever wanted it to be in a million years. How can someone as beautiful and strong and good as him love someone as ugly and weak and bad as you? It must shame him to have to put up with someone like you, you think. It must be burdening to him to have to put up with your bullshit all the time—
Why will the memories never stop haunting you? Why are you chained to your past?
"[Name], no. Come back to me. I'm here."
It felt like nobody was there in your past.
"Come back to me."
A lone moth flies in a dark tunnel. Its wings are shaking. Its body is aching. It does not have much time left in this world.
It loses altitude with every flap it does, sinking further and further into the infinite darkness as it does.
Even the light at the end of this tunnel does nothing for them. It's too far away. They can never make it. They can never...
"My love."
You sob. "Illuga—"
Why is it like this? It hurts so much. It hurts everyone around you.
Why can't you just leave this world and spare everyone the pain?
"My darling, my light. Look at me."
You turn towards him because he's pleading now (and doesn't that make you feel much better [sarcasm]) and, against your will, stare up into those beautiful blue-red eyes. A moment later, your eyes slip closed as Illuga leans in to kiss your face. You feel so guilty for allowing this to happen.
"You're worthy of love. I love you," Illuga starts. Your eyes are still closed but you can feel him tugging you closer to himself.
"You are a good person, an amazing person."
Blazing heat surrounds you from all sides and your heart skips a beat. Every none of your body tells you that it's not true, but you're more inclined to believe Illuga.
"You are someone I want to spend the rest of my life with. You are everything to me."
You shakily open your eyes. The smile that spreads across his face is blinding in its warmth. One of his hands comes up to cradle your face, wiping the tears away with his thumb.
"I love you."
"Why?" you ask softly. You hate yourself for it. You don't want to disrespect his love by any means.
He smiles like it's obvious. "Because you're you."
He swoops towards your collarbone, planting a flurry of kisses there between his words as he tells you, "I love your smile."
He moves towards the hollow of your throat, speaking into your skin, "I love your personality."
He kisses up the column of your throat, lips landing on yours. "I love you."
"Please, my love, don't leave me," he asks you quietly, leaning away from the kiss slightly to meet your eyes. You find yourself nodding before you can stop yourself.
"I'll try," you murmur. Illuga nods once before kissing you again.
His warmth from all sides is a welcome distraction from the thoughts plaguing you all this time. You hesitantly kiss him back, feeling more reassured when he begins to rub circles into your thighs.
Staying there, like that, the last dredges of your sadness fade away for now.
~~~
author's note: ok lowkey dont know what that ending was but it exists!
disclaimer: i don't own the sand, but i own whatever playing i did in the sandbox. do not use my work to feed ai. do not translate my works without my consent. do not take my ideas without giving me credit.
(SUGGESTIVE. Also, established relationship and reader is implied to be part of the Knights)
For a better reference of what Lohen's wearing here, click here (post) or here (trailer where it appears).
You swear you didn't mean to look so hard.
When you swung open the front door to Lohen’s house and called out the vice captain’s name, you expected to see him in his normal knightly uniform (well, as normal as Lohen can be)— because what else would he be wearing on a day as important as orientation day for the new knight recruits?
However, instead of being greeted back with blues and whites, a verbal hello or even a knife to your face, the first thing your eyes land on is Lohen’s bare open chest.
Sick! Lyney x reader
My first genshin fic and also first fic in about 2/3 years
I got hooked on Lyney a few weeks back and *accidentally* pulled him on the chronicled banner
And now I've *accidentally* had many ideas for Lyney centered fics
Enjoy~
The court of Fontaine was bustling with movement, people heading to and fro, heading to work or other commitments. It made a nice change to be on the opposite side for once, simply enjoying your day off. You had already seen a few familiar faces as you browsed around some of the local shops, enjoying the tranquility whilst it lasted.
Which it didn't for long.
Feeling hands come from behind you to cover your eyes would normally be a cause for concern however when it was accompanied by the fresh scent of rainbow roses and a teasing snicker, it was hard to doubt who it could possibly be.
tighnari x gn!reader, wc 1100
warnings: NOT sfw! voyeurism, masturbation, tighnari being a pervert. if you don't like tighnari, maybe don't read this bc the premise becomes a lot weirder lol
reader should be gender neutral, i tried to keep descriptions vague. if you feel anything is too defining, shoot me an ask and i can see about updating the story or the tags!
Tighnari doesn't know when it started really.
He'd go out on one final patrol right before bed. Nothing strenuous of course, just sweeping the perimeter of Gandharva Ville. It helped him sleep knowing there were no more pressing matters to tackle for the day, and that everyone was home safe for the night.
One night while out on his usual patrol, he happened to catch a few odd noises drifting from the rear window of your hut while he passed by. His steps slowed almost subconsciously, eyebrows furrowed. It took his brain a few beats to process what was happening.
The first time this occurred, he turned and left almost immediately with his cheeks burning. He was a moral guy—he knew better than to invade your privacy! And he couldn’t help his preternatural hearing. His genetics had blessed—or cursed—him with the hearing of a fox. He could hear far beyond normal human range, from the faintest rustling of leaves down to the tiniest of peeps.
This helped him tremendously when he was tracking small game through the thick brush of the Avidya Forest.
…it did not help him, however, when all he could focus on were the muffled gasps and strained noises floating out from your window.
For both of your sakes, he’d act like nothing happened afterward. This was the kind of thing you assume might be happening in someone’s private life anyway. The… confirmation didn’t have to change anything! After all, it also wasn’t your fault he had preternatural hearing.
Wavess requesting Lyney content cuz i am genuinely starved. uhhh lyney comforting fem reader cuz she got really scared he was leaving her cuz he got really busy all of a sudden :3 thank youu -🪄🌸
a/n: i am so sososo sorry this took me so long wah😭😭 i got busy then i was running out of ideas andiwhwoehksektjswkwkw
this was kinda not all that proofread so i was really nervous and scared to post this,, i also didnt know if i wrote it good and if the idea was there
i hope you like it🥹🥹🙏🫶
'Did I do something wrong?'
Hello there! If your writing stuff rn may I request headcanons for cyno becoming close with reader (perhaps she's a friend of a friend) who also tells jokes but they can range from just having amazing comedic timing with the things she says about something happening or just straight up dad jokes like-
someone: "how do I look"
Cyno and reader simultaneously: "with your eyes :D")
word count. 2.1k note. this turned out more fic-like than planned, but hope it makes you smile :)
– You actually meet Cyno because you get lost.
– Not dramatically lost in any way that could provide you an excuse for being so. Just regular, embarrassing, I-was-definitely-paying-attention-except-apparently-I-wasn’t lost, somewhere between Gandharva Ville and a “shortcut” Tighnari had, with deeply misplaced confidence, assured you was simple.
– You’re going to have words with him later.
– For now, you’re standing at a fork that shouldn’t exist according to your mental map, squinting at both options with your hands on your hips, when a voice behind you says, “Negotiating with the road?”
– Under normal circumstances, a man materializing behind you in the middle of the forest would be deeply alarming. Under current circumstances, you’ve already spent your emotional budget on being annoyed at the terrain. So, you turn with remarkable calm and observe him leaning against a tree with his arms crossed.
– “I am,” you reply. “It’s not going well. The road is being unreasonable.”
– Somehow, that earns the faintest shift in his expression—a suggestion that a smile could happen under favorable conditions.
– He tilts his head toward one path. “Left.”
– “How do you know where I’m going?”
– “I don’t. But the right path leads to a Sumpter Beast breeding ground, and you don’t look prepared for that.”
– You glance down at yourself. He has a point.
– “Left it is. Thank you, mysterious forest man.”
– “General Mahamatra.”
– “…Left it is. Thank you, mysterious forest General Mahamatra man.”
– This time, the corner of his mouth twitches.
– He pushes off the tree. “I’ll escort you to the main road.”
– “Because I look that lost?”
– “Because there have been bandits in the area.”
– “Ah.” You nod solemnly. “So I look conveniently robbable.”
– “You said it, not me.”
– You laugh, and he falls into step beside you.
– Conversation continues smoothly after that. By the time the road opens up enough that Gandharva Ville is no longer in question, you’ve learned his name is Cyno, that he speaks with the gravity of someone giving sworn testimony, and that talking to him is oddly easy once you stop expecting him to be conventionally expressive.
– You part with a polite goodbye and the lingering sense that the encounter was stranger—and more pleasant—than it had any right to be. You only find out later, quite by accident, that your mysterious road-escort and Tighnari’s oldest friend are the same person.
– This comes up when you’re in Tighnari’s home a few days later, helping restock first-aid kits while also taking the opportunity to complain about his shortcut, which he maintains was perfectly valid.
– “In any case, you still made it back,” he finally sighs after failing to convince you that your navigational choices were your own responsibility.
– “Only thanks to some mysterious man in the forest named Cyno.”
– He pauses. “Cyno?”
– “You know him? He said he was the General Mahamatra, so I assumed that was either true or the most committed impersonation I’ve ever seen.”
– “Yup, that’s definitely Cyno.”
– “Small world.” You tuck bandages into a box. “He walked me all the way back to the main road.”
– “That’s odd—he was supposed to be leaving for the desert that afternoon,” Tighnari muses. “He must have turned around to accompany you.”
– “What? Why would he do that?”
– Tighnari squints at you. “I’ve learned not to speculate on his reasoning. It’s better for my health.”
– The second time you meet Cyno, it’s coincidentally at Tighnari’s. You’re halfway through the doorway with an unreasonable number of herb bundles in your arms when Tighnari says, with immediate disapproval, “I told you three.”
– “You said, and I quote, ’Bring what you can carry,’” you rebut, balancing the teetering pile against your shoulder. “This is a failure of instruction clarity.”
– “This is a failure of restraint,” he corrects as you glance up and find Cyno leaning against the wall in almost the exact pose he’d had when you first met.
– You brighten immediately. “Mysterious forest General Mahamatra man!”
– He looks almost surprised to see you. “You know Tighnari.”
– “Apparently, you know Tighnari,” you counter.
– The herb bundles tilt ominously. Cyno is beside you before they can spill, lifting half the stack from your arms with practiced ease.
– You blink. “Oh. Thank you.”
– “Preventing avoidable disasters is part of my work.”
– “That sounds less impressive when the disasters are me getting lost or dropping medicinal plants.”
– “A disaster is measured by outcome, not dignity.”
– You stare at him for one beat, then laugh outright. And there it is again—that near-smile he seems to permit only under tightly regulated conditions.
– After that, the overlap in your lives becomes impossible to miss.
– You help Tighnari when his workload gets ridiculous, which is often. Cyno, of course, visits him regularly. So now there is a new and deeply unfortunate pattern in Tighnari’s life where he will look up from his work to find both of you in the same room, consequently suffering twice the usual number of puns.
– “Why did the scholar bring a ladder to the library?”
– You look up from your book. “Why?”
– “To reach a higher level of understanding.”
– You grin. “So the research had its ups and downs?”
– Cyno’s eyes sparkle. “But overall, it elevated the discussion.”
– Tighnari winces from the other side of the room. “I’m revoking your speaking privileges.”
– The thing about Cyno is that most people don’t really laugh with him. They brace for or tolerate his jokes with weary resignation. Tighnari, in particular, reacts to each pun like a fresh personal injury. You are the first person in a long time who hears his jokes and answers them in the same language.
– “That was well-constructed,” Cyno says to you approvingly, ignoring Tighnari.
– “Thank you. I believe in craftsmanship,” you quip.
– He looks absurdly pleased.
– This is, you realize, the key difference between you.
– Cyno treats comedy like architecture: deliberate, measured, built piece by piece. You treat it like weather: sometimes you summon it, but often you’re just in the right place when the air pressure shifts and something absurd blows through. Somehow, it works. He lays the foundation; you throw open the windows.
– By then, friendship has already happened without either of you formally acknowledging it. You start saving small stories for him: strange things you saw in the Bazaar, bizarre essay titles, Tighnari’s latest debate with some stubborn scholar. He shows up with things he thinks you might find interesting: an old text, an unusual trinket, an enormous beetle (which you politely ask him to remove from your immediate vicinity).
– It’s not long before you start landing on the same joke at the same time.
– Collei steps out of her room, smoothing her new tunic nervously. “How do I look?”
– You and Cyno answer simultaneously: “With your eyes.”
– Collei groans. Tighnari makes a sound like his soul just left his body.
– There’s a moment of recognition as you and Cyno turn toward each other. Oh. You, too.
– You break first, laughing helplessly. Cyno’s mouth curves upward after a moment, like he’s decided that if he’s already complicit, he might as well accept it.
– The escalation is, technically, Tighnari’s fault. He keeps inviting you both to the same things because, in his words, “I’m not reorganizing my life around your collective nonsense.”
– This proves to be a strategic error.
– Cyno delivers a structured joke. You riff on it. He refines the riff. You take the refinement somewhere unnecessary. What begins as a pun becomes a volley, then a construction so specific and self-referential that nobody else in the room can follow it anymore.
– “This is a new problem,” Tighnari tells Collei.
– “I think it’s kind of nice,” Collei says. “He seems happy.”
– Tighnari looks at Cyno, who is indeed more animated than usual, leaning forward slightly as you argue about whether camel caravans count as “sandwich delivery” in the desert because they transport goods between layers of sand.
– “That’s what concerns me,” Tighnari says.
– But the real proof of how close you’ve grown shows up in unspoken ways. You learn that he rereads the same book when he can’t sleep. That he sometimes rehearses jokes in his head before saying them aloud. That the burden of being General Mahamatra is not only the responsibility, but the isolation—the way people pull back when they understand what he represents.
– He learns that you are dependable in every serious matter and hopeless with personal clutter. That you love learning but hate the Akademiya’s tendency to treat knowledge like property. That you’re one of the few people he trusts to read the mood—yes, even he knows he doesn’t always get it right—and you help him without making him feel corrected.
– Most importantly, he learns that your humor is not, and has never been, a deflection; it’s a way of reaching sincerity without forcing anyone to sit exposed in it longer than they can bear. Maybe he understands this instinctively because beneath your different deliveries, the two of you are trying to do the same thing: make moments easier to hold.
– This, more than any joke, is why he trusts you.
– One evening, Cyno returns to Gandharva Ville long after sunset, with blood on his sleeves and a heaviness that has nothing to do with fatigue. You don’t comment on the stains or ask for details. Instead, you hand him water and say quietly, “Sit.”
– He does.
– “Want alone time or company?”
– “Company,” he admits.
– You sit beside him. Just that. After a while, you add quietly, “If you ever need to talk, I’ll listen. And if you don’t, I won’t force it into a lesson or a joke.”
– He looks at you for a long moment. “Thank you.”
– “Of course.” Then, because gentleness is easier if it doesn’t stare at itself too long: “Though if you eventually want a joke, I do provide emotional support in several formats.”
– A breath leaves him that is almost, almost a laugh. “Noted.”
– Cyno is not oblivious. He notices patterns. He notices how often he ends up matching his steps to yours, how he slows without thinking when you’re distracted. He often finds himself asking, “Are you heading back?” instead of “Farewell.” He grows used to the sound of your voice fitting neatly into the spare spaces of his day.
– Even the children in Aaru Village assume you come as a set. They run up to both of you with things like, “I made a joke today!” Another asks Cyno to “teach me how make people laugh with the serious voice.”
– He raises an eyebrow at you. You crouch down. “Step one: believe in the joke completely. If you don’t believe in it, no one will.”
– Cyno considers this, then adds, “Step two: leave room before the punchline. Anticipation improves delivery.”
– The children absorb this like sacred instruction. You and Cyno spend a morning helping them invent jokes. None of them are structurally sound, but he insists that “creative expression should not be stifled in early development.” The children glow under his praise.
– That evening, the two of you sit watching the horizon burn itself slowly into dusk—you because you like watching the sky change, him because you’re there—and a thought surfaces.
– “Cyno.”
– “Yes?”
– “Do you know why I kept talking to you? After that first time on the path?”
– He looks over at you. “Because I gave you correct directions.”
– “No.” You pull your knees up, resting your chin on them. “Because you walked me all the way back even though you were heading somewhere else. And you never even mentioned it. I only found out because Tighnari told me.”
– His gaze slides back to a cloud dissolving into flames. “I didn’t do it to be mentioned,” he says.
– “Exactly.”
– “...That is why you kept talking to me?”
– “That, and the jokes.”
– A small smile pulls at his mouth. “I see.”
– The sky behind him is doing something absurd with color—gold bleeding into violet, the kind of sunset that feels too deliberate to be ordinary.
– “And you,” he adds at last, “You understand the joke, but you do not mistake it for the whole of me.”
– Both of you are quiet for a moment, taking in the marvel of the sky. Then you bump your shoulder lightly against his. “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
– “I meant it,” he says.
– “I know.”
– And somehow, that makes it better.
– After a moment, Cyno observes, with perfect seriousness, “For the record, your sense of direction is still poor.”
– You stare at him, then laugh. “There he is.”
– “I had to end this conversation in character.”
– “And people say comedy is dead.”
– This time, his chuckle is unmistakable. Above you, the sky finishes its display and settles into dark. Neither of you moves.
– There’s nowhere else either of you needs to be.
Spicy Poly 4ggravate Headcanons
Hello, may I interest you in some steamy headcanons regarding the four scrunklies of Sumeru? No? Too late, I am already inside your house. :)
NSFW ahead 🔞
Okay, the sequel to this post; thoughts on 4ggravate's self care routine and preferences! The people have spoken: a longer post is preferred over multiple, shorter posts. So, Alhaitham, Cyno, and Kaveh's headcanons will be under read more!
Tighnari is probably the best at taking care of himself. He mentions an ear-and-tail routine in one of his voicelines and I suspect his skincare is pretty good too. Not only is he super heat intolerant but he also understands the risks surrounding sunburns (and sun stroke) as a seasoned ranger. You will never catch Nari without sunscreen.
I suspect his toiletries cabinet is half-DIY and half purchased: a mix of hand blended oils (either lightly scented or unscented), various balms and salves made using forest ranger recipes, and a few personal picks from treasure street. The hybrid population isn't that big in Sumeru but there has to be a stall or two that caters to them. I suspect their products are quite expensive since they'd be considered 'specialised'. The cost combined with the noise in Sumeru city tends to keep Nari away.
EARS SCRATCH⸺૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა
Things that he likes but won't say outloud.
# ears scratch edition ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა
Tighnari x FEM!Reader
There's something Tighnari would never dare tell anyone, and that is his satisfaction for ears scratch. Yes, the smart and composed forest watcher couldn't handle people knowing about his adoration for the rubs you gave behind his ears and It didn't help that they were sensitive.
Feining for cyno currently. (When am I not...)
Cyno who lounges around shirtless frequently, not realizing the effect it had on you. He felt at ease in your shared home, and as soon as he was off the clock, the armor came off, revealing his bare skin.
Cyno was toned to perfection, he wasn't the tallest of men, but he was far from weak. He was pure muscle, tanned, sculpted, muscle. His skin featured a few scars from his training days. He had become much more careful now, close to untouchable. He would come home with a few scratches every now and then, but remained relatively unscathed.
Cyno would catch you staring, as clever as he was, he was relatively dense. He was unaware of what you were staring at. Did his scars look ugly? Was there something on his back? Little did he realize you were gawking at him, taking in every inch of his skin.
Cynos skin was extremely soft, the only rough part was his hands which were calloused and rough from wiedling his weapon. You sometimes mindlessly rest a hand on his back or shoulder when he's shirtless, impressed with just how soft his skin really is, even as the general mahamatra!
Cyno radiates heat, this is no surprise. From spending his entire life in the desert, his body now naturally radiated the heat of the desert sand. It felt good when you were cold, but having him around as a radiator was incredibly inconvenient sometimes, especially when you both are in the desert, and being physically affectionate with him only makes you more miserable. However, on those cold nights, he'd grown fond of you burying yourself into his back or chest. He radiated the most heat there, and he knew that too. You had only told him how warm he was a million times. Hell, sometimes you'd stick a cold hand up his shirt just to warm yourself up, it'd make him jump a little, but he'd relax and let it happen.
Cyno had incredibly sexy arms. For a smaller frame, his biceps were massive, and he had prominent veins lining his arms. He'd flex if you asked him too, and it never gets old. He doesn't understand your obsession with his arms, but hes appreciative of it nonetheless. With that being said, his muscle didn't stop at his arms, his shoulders and back muscles were defined, and everytime he shifted or moved you were reminded of how strong he truly was. You'd watch as he would take off his armor when he got home, it didn't look heavy, but you could tell how heavy it was from the way his back and shoulders tensed, highlighting every muscle. Cyno had so many attractive features, but his abundance of muscle might take the first place trophy.
lyney ✧ fontaine's great magician
i should probably emphasize again that i'm rarely so open with anyone—i guess it's because you're not just anyone.
for the loveliest @agnellae. happy birthday, sumire!!
lyney analysis ….. thing. TW: talk of suicide
— first off, he is NOT A TWINK. HE IS NOT A TWINK HE IS NOT A GAY HOPELESS TWINK
PERSONALITY (?) ANALYSIS:
— most people tend to brush this off completely which upsets me so i will take it into my own hands. in short, he is suicidal. in his performances, specifically the life performance, it is almost always him putting himself on the line. when he protected freminet and lynette, it was definitely because he cares about them (that part is true) but also that he just .. didnt care if he died.
— one of the main parts of his character is his facade. he feels the need to constantly perform, to constantly be on some sort of stage to protect lynette and to also not receive backlash for his true self.
— another part of his character is how responsible he is. for lynette’s safety, for freminet, for traveler aswell—that is undeniable, but he also runs from responsibility. with his suicidal ideation, especially during the life performance we can see he isnt all that happy to be here. for someone who is so protective you’d think he would do everything in his power to stay alive for the people whom he’d want to protect, but that isnt the case. he runs to the first chance he gets if it means he could end up not living, but he covers it with wanting to protect. in a sense, i think he holds some sort of resent towards lynette and freminet. for someone who is constantly taking care of them, and doesnt seem to quite get the exact same thing back, anybody would be tired. which we see without his facade that he is, infact, tired.
— obviously i am not saying he hates freminet or lynette as that obviously isnt true, but he does deep down probably yearn to get the same care back from them. he knows he cant ask, he knows its selfish to want it, and since he wont properly communicate it leads to mild resentment.
OKAY IM DONE NOW ITS 5AM😳😳😳
disclaimer: im not a professional genshin lore reader and i am not lyney’s no.1 fan and i am sleep deprived and im sorry if its inaccurate treat me with kindness. i also had @kelaroni proofread this sorta and he’s also half awake. okay. okay?
Lohen feels like the kinda boyfriend who wakes you up in the middle of the night to ask you random questions. You having lovingly dubbed it his 'zooming hours.'
Such as an example being if you would keep him if he got turned into a zombie during the apocalypse. An innocent question, but not a question for 3:00am.
You say yes, you will protect him and find him people to eat. You humour the vice captain, only then to be reprimand by said vice captain for being stupid when you said 'yes.'
"What did you want me to say, that I'd shoot you with an arrow? Impale you on your lance?"
"Fucking YES, dear. For archons sake you can't be this stupid! Aim for the head and don't think twice, what if I bite you and you become a zombie too!"
He thinks for a moment, you can see the horrid little gears in his brain turning. The disappointing scowl morphs into a gleeful, yet slightly scary, smile.
"But that would be soooooooo romantic! if you let me bite you, then we'd be eternally zombies and we could go on zombie dates!"
You stare at him, exhausted and unable to follow his hoola-hooping logic of this 'eternal zombie love.' He rambles about where you two would hunt and who would be first, Godwin obviously.
"We're not discussing this right now, we have a meeting with Jean in the morning-"
He's ignoring you, purposefully or not, neither you nor he knows. "We'd definetly eat Jean first, she's smart she'll taste better than the others-"
"GOODNIGHT, my psychotic snowflake."
Lyney: Can we go to a haunted house? Arlecchino: What’s wrong with the one we live in? Lyney: Wh-what? Arlecchino: Goodnight children.
Lyney: Father, I'm having problems with a boy…
Arlecchino: Like "his dead body won't fit into my trunk" problems or "I like him" problems?
Lyney: "I like him" problems.
Arlecchino: Too bad. I could have helped with the first one.
