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
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.
“!? LOHEN?? ”
Your voice booms throughout the whole house, causing Lohen to raise a confused brow before setting aside his newly brewed cup of coffee to face you over the kitchen counter.
“Oh? You're finally here.” Lohen hums in a singsong tone, ignoring your currently confused state. He folds his arms over the counter and slightly bending over surface, exposing even more of his already exposed chest to your frightened eyes. “What a shame that I can't accompany you to the training grounds today. My presence is required elsewhere to keep the new recruits on their toes. Grandmaster’s orders and all.”
Lohen's words go in one ear before going out the other ear. Every ounce of your dying attention trails down from his open chest to the black vest hugging his figure tightly like hands pressing into skin, tightly shaping his lithe, agile body that had grown some muscle from that long five year expedition he went on. The long, dark belt wrapped around his small waist nearly made you gasp like a scandalised maiden. Is it normal for someone to be jealous of a belt? Is it also normal to want to replace said belt with your own hands around his waist? Please? Pretty please?
“I can hear you, you know?”
The smirk on Lohen's face widens as your jaw drops onto the floor. While you scramble to find the words to excuse your leering gaze pointed towards at your own vice captain, Lohen lifts himself off the counter and waltzes in your direction, keeping his eyes on you to pin you in your spot (as if you can go anywhere when your jaw is still on the floor).
Oh my archons he's coming here. He's swaying his hips while coming over here. Surely it's illegal for a man to look so dangerous and seductive at the same time right? Right??
Slowly, gradually, he makes his way to you and lifts your chin up with one hand. His long fingers, no longer restrained by his old gloves, carefully trace your jawline with reverence, leaving a path of lingering warmth of your flushed face that looks ready to explode at any moment. How delicate they look— these fingers that have ended countless lives are now cradling your face like a priceless jewel, taking care of you with hands that have held more weapons more preciously than any precious gemstone.
“Look at you. Even without being able to read your thoughts, I can still hear you as clear as day~”
Lohen leans in closer and brushes his mouth against your earlobe. His lips are dry, the consequences of always being exposed to the cold air out in the wild without taking proper care of them— yet that doesn’t stop him from blowing hot air into your ear. He laughs when you jump in surprise and uses his other hand to pin you in place, roughly squeezing your shoulder to keep you from running away.
“Tell me. What part of my body excites you the most? Is it my chest? My waist? My hands?” He muses. “If you tell me, I might let you have a taste of me before we leave. How does that sound?”
You choke, too taken aback to say a word. Why did he have to make it sound so dirty when nothing was going to happen!?
“Vice cap—”
You barely manage to get his title out before Lohen's lips are on you, silencing every sentence that you had fought to piece together.
Turns out, the air in his lungs aren’t the only thing hot inside of his body. His tongue (the same one you've seen used to snap back at your shared comrades with cold remarks) finds an opening past your lips and leaves a blazing path in its wake, claiming your mouth with the same dominance he shows on the battlefield. With a tilt of his head, he pushes himself deeper inside you, keeping you on your toes as he fights his way into your self conciousness, forcefully filling your thoughts with him and only him with his kisses.
“Tch, not enough…”
Lohen pulls away and clicks his tongue for a brief moment before sealing his lips on top of yours again. This time, he pushes your body to the closest wall and crushes you between it and his body, letting you feel the thin belts dangling loosely around his thighs and his thigh strap all digging into your flesh at once. The rough manuever causes strands of his teal blue hair to fall out of his hair, brushing against your face like a paintbrush drawing on a blank canvas.
A sane person might call this feeling overwhelming but none of you can truly be called sane right now. Not when one of you is currently battling with the forces of gravity to pull you inside of him, while the other of you is letting him do it.
He doesn't give you time to breathe, doesn't want to. His hands grip your hands with the force of a bow with its string pulled, pressing you against the wall until you are squeezed to his body as tightly as possible like the belt you were oh so jealous of. He doesn't even try to pull away with his head starts to feel dizzy from the lack of air. The exhilaration and excitement pushes him to take more, take everything that belongs to you and keep it for himself.
It doesn't come as a surprise to anyone when you showed up to the orientation late with a few bright hickies blooming on your neck.
【Bonus】
“So, why are you dressed like that!?”
You finally manage to ask the one question you have been dying to know.
While you frantically try to find your lost clothing scattered all across his floor, Lohen leisurely buttons up the few buttons on his shirt while humming.
“Like I said, grandmaster's orders. Instead of greeting the new recruits like everyone else, I've been tasked with testing the new recruits. To ensure that they don't pose a threat to the knights nor Mondstadt. ”
“... Did he also ask you to dress in your old adventurer’s clothes, or was that a decision you made on your own?”
“Hm, who knows~ But if I had earlier known that you liked this outfit so much, I would've worn them in front of you much sooner.”
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.
"Now, now, and what's a beautiful lady doing out here all alone, hm?"
He was so close you could feel his breath brush against the back of you neck and could feel the heat radiating off him, partly a result of his pyro vision.
"Lyney-" you couldnt hold back the giggle that escaped your mouth at his antics "What are you doing?"
You spun around to face him and he let his hands drop to his sides once more, offering you a boyish grin, one that didn't quite hit the same as usual.
There was something off about him but you just couldn't put a finger on what it was, maybe it was just because you hadn't been expecting to run into him?
"I was just passing by, spotted you and couldn't bring myself to walk on by,"
Before you could take a moment to think, he reached towards you, his long fingers brushing your hair behind your ear with a teasing "What's this?"
He pulled back with nothing other than a rainbow rose held between his fingers, offering the flower to you as he had done so often.
His theatrics never failed to make you smile but there was something bothering you. His flair for dramatics was normally more extreme than it currently was and taking a closer look you could spot dark circles underneath his eyes.
Not to mention the fact you could quite easily follow his hand movements as he pulled off one of his signature tricks.
You knew he'd been performing back to back shows recently, maybe he hadn't slept well?
Lyney's smile faltered when you didn't reach out to take the rose off him, his normally unshakable confidence wavering in the presence of the person who had caught his heart. But your focus was drifting, flitting from the slight flush that covered his cheeks and the unusual pale almost grey tone to his skin and the way his hands worked slower than usual, almost coming close enough to giving away his trick.
After a heartbeat longer under your scrutiny, he went to drop his hand, the sting of rejection bitter in his throat and a hurried excuse to leave on the tip of his tongue only for you to move before he had the chance to open his mouth.
One hand gently took his outstretched hand, lowering it back to his side and taking the rose with a small smile before stepping closer, your free hand coming to rest upon his forehead.
The searing heat confirmed your suspicions. Lyney was sick.
And if his heart hadn't been racing since he got up that morning, it was going haywire right now with you up close and personal, touching him, and looking at him with that concerned look in your eyes.
"How long were you going to pretend you weren't sick?"
Lyney only shrugged, a nervous laugh forcing it's way from his lungs, unsure how to play off your concern. It was a mild fever at worst, nothing he couldn't work through.
"It's not that bad, I've still got work to do either way. Didn't think you would notice,"
And there he goes again, brushing off any and all concern for his wellbeing like it mattered little to him when all you wanted to do was bundle him up in bed and bring him soup and medicine.
"Lyney you're burning up, you've got a fever. You should be resting,"
You knew it was hard for him to accept care off anyone who wasn't his siblings, and even then he would often downplay his symptoms to not worry them. The thought caused your chest to ache that he believed everyone cared so little about his wellbeing. He was always putting on a performance to downplay his issues for the sake of others.
The dazed look on his face cleared for a second, giving way to a moment of clarity as he uttered a quiet
"You're touching me,"
It was so quiet you might have missed it if you hadn't have been hyper focused on him but the sentence caught you off guard all the same
"Uh, yeah? I wanted to confirm my suspicions before dragging you off back to bed,"
The snicker that followed showed you that clearly the Lyney you knew was still in there masked under a raging fever and brain fog.
"Oh? If you wanted to take me to bed that badly you could've just sai-achooo!"
And now a pout had taken up permenant residence on Lyney's face as you intertwined your fingers together, pulling him along back towards his apartment.
"Now, now is this really necessary?" He whined, clumsy feet stumbling over nothing "Whilst I'm flattered that such a lovely lady is so concerned about me, there's no need to worry your pretty head over me,"
You stopped abruptly, turning to face him once more only to find that he hadn't been expecting the sudden stop, his body crashing straight into yours with a muffled oof.
"Sorry," nervously a hand scratched at the back of his neck.
"Lyney your reaction times are none existent, you're pale and flushed and don't think I don't see those bags under your eyes," Once you were sure he had regained full balance and wasn't going to keel over any second, your hands found their way to rest on your hips, fixing him with a look that dared him to argue. "When even was the last time you slept more than 4 hours? I could practically re-enact that trick you did earlier with how slowly you did it I saw every detail, now either you come along and let me look after you or I'm gonna have to get Lynette involved as well,"
Okay he had to give you credit, you knew perfectly well how to bargain with him. Between you and his sister as much as he loved her, he'd prefer your gentle care over Lynette's teasing.
And besides, if he played his cards right maybe he could talk you into staying with him while he rested?
"Okay, okay. You win. I'm coming," holding his hands up, you triumphed at your small win "You're going to have to slow down a bit though, you are right, I'm not exactly as coordinated as usual," it was a mumbled addition, clearly something he didn't want to admit out loud.
The great magician Lyney didn't get ill after all, he couldn't have this small miscalculation ruin his image.
With a nod you took his hand once more, ignoring the way his flush darkened and pretending that your ears weren't heating up as well.
Before long and without further incident, you reached his apartment that he shared with his siblings, he let he two of you inside and you immediately shooed him off to go change into comfortable clothes whilst you hunted down the kitchen to make him a warm cup of herbal tea to hopefully soothe some of the discomfort.
He reappeared in the doorway moments later, looking somehow worse than minutes earlier as he watched over your shoulder quietly, watching you finish up before turning to hand the cup to him. When you took a closer look at him, you noticed the faint smudged makeup around his eyes, likely left over from his show the previous night. If this illness had begun then, chances are he wouldn't have had the energy to spare to fully clean his face.
"Here, go get in bed, you're not doing a lot of resting stood here,"
He followed without argument, only questioning where you were going when you split off in the direction of what you assumed was the bathroom.
"You've got makeup on still, let me clean it off for you," you explained, rummaging through the bathroom to find some makeup wipes before heading into the one room with the door opened.
Lyney was perched on the edge of the bed, having placed the teacup on the bedside table and he looked towards you when you entered the room, a nervous laugh bubbling up his throat.
"You'll have to excuse the mess," as you looked around you spotted various props dotted around, nothing major but likely another case where he hadn't had the energy to properly put things away.
"Nevermind that, I told you to get in bed,"
He wasn't about to argue with the stern tone in your voice, the threat of having Lynette care for him instead lingering in the air. Besides, now that he was home the chill in the air seemed to be getting to him more than he thought. With that thought he pulled the covers aside, shuffling awkwardly to lean back against the headboard.
It was strange, you had never seen this side to him before. Gone was his showy persona, replaced with a young man who looked exhausted even in the dimly lit bedroom. He was quiet, almost withdrawn, and you told yourself you wouldn't take for granted him showing this side of himself to you.
Brushing the thought aside, you took the makeup wipes you had grabbed, debating your options on how to go about it. Realistically you should have done this before telling him to get into bed but you weren't about to go back on your word now, instead clambering awkwardly up into the bed beside him
Plucking one of the wipes out, you reached your free hand out to turn his face towards you, holding him steady as you gently cleaned the smudged eyeliner from around his eye. The second eye wasn't quite as easy, the angle of his face was wrong for you to reach properly and you didn't trust yourself to swap hands to use your non dominant hand leaving you with the only other logical option.
You swung your leg over where Lyney was laid, straddling his waist and leaning in closer to try remove the rest of the stubborn makeup.
"Jesus Lyney what makeup do you use, this stuff seriously isn't wanting to come off," you huffed as you worked.
As for Lyney, he was frozen in place, breathing shallow and face flushed for completely different reasons than before. There was a teasing remark just waiting to slip from his silver tongue but his brain was working overtime trying to process the current situation. Clearly you had the same thought as you suddenly realised the position you had put the two of you in, face flushing as you pulled away from him.
"I am so sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," you were absolutely mortified. Yes, you and lyney had become fast friends but you weren't close enough to be sat in his lap, especially when he's ill and not in his right mind.
Before you could get any further however, his hands shot out to grab your waist, a dazed look on his face.
"No, no you're not making me uncomfortable, I was just thinking what I'd done to get such a pretty lady in my bed," despite his now raging fever, he winked at you. Fully winked. And your knees went weak.
"Don't joke with me like this, you're ill you don't know what you're saying," despite your words, a part of you knew there was some truth in his teasing. And so you resumed your previous position, finishing up with a last smudge of eyeliner that had made its way across his temple before checking his temperature once more. Lyney's hands were still rested on your waist but you had to pull away, he was still burning hot. You stood from the bed and straightened out your clothes, trying not to look too flustered.
"Have you guys got any medicine around? You should take some and then try and sleep."
Following Lyney's directions you found some appropriate medication, and a glass of water to go along with it before making a quick stop by the bathroom once more to grab a cold washcloth.
Lyney was exactly where you left him, only he had pulled the covers further up, wrapped tightly around himself despite his his face was flushed cherry red, with a glistening sweat forming.
"Here take these, you handed him the pills and the glass of water which he took without complaint, placing the glass on the nightstand whilst you wringed out the washcloth to drape one his forehead.
A grumble left his lips and his eyes scrunched closed as the cold fabric touched his skin, the sound neatly enough to force a laugh from your chest. He really was adorable at times without even trying, stripped back from his showman persona where he can just be Lyney.
Just when you were least expecting it, a hand shot out from the bed, taking your wrist within long fingers, you looked up to see Lyney staring straight at you from underneath the washcloth
"It's rather cold," his voice drawled out, whether from illness or his usual teasing taking the opportunity to shine "Won't you join me and keep me warm?"
Lost for words, you debated your options. For once it wasn't his flirtatious nature showing through, it seemed like a genuine request for comfort. And it wasn't that you were against the idea but it felt a little wrong for you to take advantage of the situation when he clearly wasnt in his right mind. On the other hand, there was likely no way you were going to be able to ensure Lyney stayed in bed otherwise, at least this way you could monitor him and ensure he didn't sneak out to continue working. You were well aware that he still had shows to perform and it wasn't worth the risk of him pretending he's okay once more. With that decided, you slipped into bed beside him, accepting the comforting weight as he tucked himself into your side.
His skin felt burning to the touch but you could feel the way shivers wracked his body when he snaked his arms around your waist. His head came to rest on your chest and you diligently ignored the cool washcloth that was now pressing between his head and your chest. Instead you took the opportunity to run your fingers through his ash blond hair, gently untangling the braid down one side at the same time before scratching at his scalp with gentle movements.
He practically purred at the feeling, the sound vibrating in his chest and he fought to open his eyes once more to look at you.
"You're actually staying?" He sounded disbelieving. Long gone was the carefully curated image he presented to the public, here he was quiet and gentle, fighting with heavy eyelids to look up at you.
"Of course," you replied softly."I'll stay while you sleep, now rest up or you'll never get better,"
The only response you got was a muffled grumble as he settled back down, not caring about the washcloth slipping off his forehead as he buried his face into your chest. You smiled fondly at him although he couldn't see it, counting his breaths in your head as they evened out before pressing a kiss to the top of his head before letting yourself rest as well.
You might as well catch up on some sleep as well after all if you were staying with him.
The door opened as Lynnette and Freminet returned home, clicking closed behind them as they looked around in confusion. Neither of them had heard a peep from Lyney all day, something that very rarely happened. He was normally the most social out of the three of them so to recieve silence from him all day was concerning. They hadn't even been informed how his job today had gone, father hadn't sent word to them either. The whole situation was strange.
Lyney could be secretive at times, even towards them, however they were given answers in the form of an extra pair of shoes in the entryway.
Exchanging a glance, Lynnette's ears swiveled, picking up on any noise but coming back empty. It appears whoever Lyney had invited round wasn't one for talking.
Speaking of, neither was Lyney, for once. There was no sign of his usual boisterous voice, no sign of any magic tricks being performed to impress whoever had caught his attention, just silence.
So like the good siblings they are, Lynette and Freminet made their way towards Lyney's bedroom door which had been left slightly ajar, poking their heads in and finding the answer to all of their questions.
There he was, still plastered to your side however you had also fallen asleep, awkwardly propped up against the headboard supporting Lyney's weight on top of you. A quick glance around to see the leftover medication and the now abandoning washcloth finished off their explanation.
"Stupid Lyney, working until you're sick," Lynette grumbled as they retreated back, letting the door click closed behind them
"At least you didn't have to fight him into resting this time,"
Lynette hummed in agreement and the quiet returned without Lyney to fill the room with idle chatter.
"Hmm, maybe I should take a photo as blackmail for the next time he's sick and won't rest?"
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.
Now, you’re not the first person to get up to… ahem frisky business within Tighnari’s range of hearing. His days at the Akademiya saw no shortage of tuning exactly that kind of nonsense out.
But he couldn’t help it if he was also specially tuned in to everything you did. It’s only because when you stayed in Gandharva Ville, you became the Forest Watchers’ responsibility—and by proxy his responsibility should anything go wrong. That’s how he justifies it to himself anyway…
(It doesn't have anything to do with the feelings he's denied harboring for months.)
He doesn't change his routine on account of this new development. He can't just… stop his patrol. It's a vital part of his job, regardless of whatever distractions you inadvertently throw his way. (He also definitely hasn’t been skewing his path closer each night after he first heard you…)
He slows down, just close enough for the glow from your window to shine off the dead leaves at his feet. He can’t see anything—no, that would be taking it too far—but his ears twitch, drinking in the stolen noises that should be lost to the wind and the privacy of your bedroom.
To your face, he acts the same as ever—maybe a little shorter, a sign of his guilt, but Tighnari’s always been sassy so you might not think anything of it. Still, like clockwork, he finds himself making up excuses to linger in the patch of forest behind your hut, just within range to catch if you decide to indulge yourself. His heart pounds in his chest, a mix of carnal excitement and fear of being caught, ears twitching at even the slightest sound that resembles your voice.
When this started, he’d do nothing but listen—anything more would be creepy and immoral, he reasoned with himself. He’d linger nearby, shrouded in the dark of the forest foliage, cock throbbing at each shaky inhale you took. He imagined it—the way you looked with your lips parted and your eyes screwed shut as you worked yourself toward your high. His favorite part was, obviously, when you would finish. He could always tell—the sharp intake of air, the brief moment of suspension right before the crash.
He doesn’t know when it changed. It must’ve started with a small touch, just something to stifle the ache from being hard for too long. Then, he let his palm work slow, almost hesitant, circles, unable to resist the urge to enjoy this moment with you, all the while chiding himself internally.
This isn't right, Tighnari. He'd tell himself, I should leave and stop coming back.
Until one night, he finally caved. Maybe you were especially vocal, or maybe your movements especially audible. The lewd sounds painted a definitive picture for him. His hand slipped under his waistband, the rough bark of the tree he was leaning against scratching his skin the only thing grounding him to the present. Every noise he caught made his cock jump, his hand working in time with your thwap thwap thwap
He hasn’t been this hard since he learned how to manage his mating season urges.
He’d edge himself until you were ready to cum. If you kept going after one orgasm, he’d keep going with you—even when tears dotted his lower lashes and his thighs started to tremble. He’d learnt to carry an extra cloth with him because, try as he might to aim it elsewhere, he’d always manage to get cum on his shirt or his hands in the heat of finishing at the same time as you.
Sometimes, he would be too down terrible to even care. He’d make a mess all over himself and wouldn’t think two ways about it… until he was stressing about running into someone on the walk back to his own hut afterward, that is.
It got to the point that, when he’d spend time with you outside of that context, his cock would instantly get half-hard at any unsuspecting noise you made. He could hardly even look you in the eye. He wasn’t proud of it. He couldn’t even bring himself to admit it to Cyno. Surely that man, as an arbiter of justice, would be disgusted by Tighnari’s actions, even if they were best friends. He kept it to himself, sneaking around in the darkness like some… scoundrel.
That was until recently. He was there, like he was reliably most nights—back pressed to the tree, head tilted back, mouth ajar in a silent gasp. The fabric of his pants were shoved haphazardly down his hips, just enough to free his cock. His hand worked himself furiously. One ear was pinned back, the other perked in your direction. You were getting closer—after all these nights, he could tell. His thumb brushed his flushed tip, as he teetered on the edge of his high, waiting for you. He imagined it was him working your body like he was as familiar with it as you were. Imagined it was his hands, his mouth, his tongue.
That’s when he heard it. It was soft, almost swallowed by the breeze, but unmistakable once Tighnari caught it.
“Tighnari…”
For one illogical second, his heart dropped. He thought maybe you knew he was there. He risked a glance at your window, hand still wrapped around his cock, chest heaving. You weren’t there. No, there’s no way you know he’s here. Then why…?
Then, as if the Archons themself answered Tighnari’s prayers, it happened again. His name fell from your lips, pitch lilting as you approached your high. Wait… that could only mean… were you picturing him too??
It didn’t take long for his body to catch up once his brain had puzzled together what was happening. There was a single suspended second where his whole body tensed before his orgasm crashed over him so hard it knocked the wind from his lungs. He gripped the nearest branch for support, his knees buckling as ropes of cum painted his knuckles, his shirt, even a few nearby leaves white.
The weeks of shame and guilt eased from his shoulders—not completely, he still didn’t think what he was doing was right, but enough for the idea of making this fantasy a reality to take root.
He looked down at his shirt, chest still heaving as he caught his breath. Well, it’s a good thing he travels with a spare shirt now.
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?'
That was your thought process every passing day that Lyney hasn't visited or approched you. — Of course you noticed! It's not hard to tell when the 'Greatest Magician of Fontaine' suddenly switches up his habits. And as much as you'd love to look for him and ask him about it, your heart just wouldn't let you.
I mean, you've seen him sometimes with the Traveller, but everytime you try to go near him he immediately runs off somewhere with Lynette! You even wonder if he still likes you from time to time...
And as you sit in silence for the nth time, the sunlight seeping through the windows as the sky; a beautiful golden evening glow, morphs into a somewhat luminous indigo color, — you find yourself resting on your bed, tiredly. 'Maybe he just doesn't want to see me...'
...
'But... if it ever came to that... then maybe it would be best...
— if I distanced myself from him.'
Lyney paces back and forth in the backstage of the opera house. He can't wait to see you after all! The week he's had has been too hectic for him, he thought, with an excited look clearly evident in his face.
A teasing look spreads upon Lynettes face (although its hard to tell if you don't know her well enough) when she sees how her brother is acting. She could always tell what he's thinking after all.
"Don't get too excited Lyney. Remember, we still have a job to do." she says, sounding bluntly to others, but to Lyney, that reassurance is more than enough of what he could've asked from her.
The audience cheers loudly, as they await Lyney and Lynette's performance. Lyney steps out first, and greets everyone.
"Welcome all to the one and only, Lyney and Lynette's Magic Show!" he smiles as he looks around the crowd, scanning each seat as if he was looking for someone; a woman he saw at Café Lutece the other day, a man with expensive taste with clothing, and an aquaintance of his.
Back and forth, Lyney skims through the audience with his sharp eyes, making sure he doesn't miss a single person. But maybe all that effort was for naught. His smile falters as he continues charming the crowd, because he realizes one thing, the anomaly amongst this entire audience laid upon him.
You weren't there.
You didn't come to the show you said you've been looking forward to all this time.
And now, he makes it his mission to find you and bring you back.
Once the show ended, Lyney immediately went out to look for you, making sure to inform Lynette, and his assistants before doing so.
He checked each place you both went to; your favorite spots, places you wished to explore, maybe his house? — All nothing. And so, he goes to the final place he hasn't checked yet, your home.
Soft knocks can be heard from your front door. It took everything in you to even stand up and move, even though your mind was telling you not to.
'Who could that be at this hour?' your mind wanders aimlessly. Part of you hoped that it was Lyney, but you immediately shook those thoughts away. 'Not now, Y/N.'
You gently open the door, opening it bit by bit just to take a peek on who the person could be. — But, it seems this person has other plans.
Lyney opens the door hurriedly, but careful not to be forceful, or possibly hurt you.
"...! Lyney..?! What are you doing here..?!" you say, shock evident in your tone. "I could ask you the same thing dove!" Lyney says as he approaches you slowly, closing the front door behind him.
"Why didn't you attend my show? Weren't you looking forward to it..?" he says with a worried tone, as his hands start roaming around, checking every detail of you to make sure you're okay.
"You were... concerned for me..?" the thought slips from your mind almost immediately, and you accidentally say it out loud. You instinctly cover your mouth because of it, but it looks like Lyney already heard you.
Of course he'd be worried! How could you possibly even ask a question like that?
...
Your eyes suddenly tear up, tiny drops rolling across your cheeks. You didn't even notice yourself tear up at first because of how much used you are of suppressing them. But of course, Lyney notices.
His hands instinctively move to your face, cupping it like you're a delicate thing that could break if handled incorrectly, as he moves the hand that's covering your mouth in order to give you room to breathe. He doesn't speak — not yet of course — and waits for you to do so instead, patiently waiting any sort of response from you.
"..Gah! Im sorry... I didn't mean to blow up like this on you so suddenly..." you say in between sniffles. You really didn't wish to cry now, — not infront of him of all people.
The words come crashing down suddenly, as your breathing quickens and tears come out too quickly, not intending to stop any time soon. "I didn't mean to bail on your performance... I just... didn't know how to approach you, it felt like you didn't want to see me most of the time, and I was really scared you might leave me all of a sudden, and I didn't know what to do because of that, and I—"
Lyney cuts you off, his gaze worrying although a little distant. As he pulls you into a warm embrace, he slowly rubs your back to comfort you, and your breathing slowly but surely evening out bit by bit.
As you calm down, and as you both settle into each other, the atmosphere around you has shifted into a warmer tone, something raw and unguarded, more real.
"I'm sorry for making you feel that way. I never wanted to make you feel like that, never wanted to make you feel unwanted. I got busier with my work, and I didn't tell you because I thought you'd get worried — looking back at it now, that really wasn't a good idea.. huh?" Lyney chuckles at the end of his sentence, but there wasn't any teasing in it, just... regret.
"I will never make you feel like that ever again. You matter to me the most, you know? And it would pain me to find out that the person I love dearly, was hurt by me."
'This is fine', he thinks. In fact, this is more than fine. Holding you like this, being close to you. He would give everything, or do anything — just to see you smile once more. As long as you don't find out — not yet, atleast — that he's a part of the fatui, then maybe moments like these are if not, more than enough for him.
He hates lying to you of course, really he does. But if it makes you stay, if he gets to be with you, and gets to love you freely whenever he pleases, then he'll protect his secret at all costs.
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.
– 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.
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 🔞
First, here are the roles in the bedroom:
➼ Between Kaveh and Alhaitham, Kaveh tops 60% of the time.
➼ Between Cyno and Tighnari, Cyno tops 80% of the time.
➼ Between Alhaitham and Cyno, Cyno tops 70% of the time.
➼ Between Tighnari and Kaveh, Tighnari always tops.
➼ Between Cyno and Kaveh, Cyno always tops.
➼ Between Tighnari and Alhaitham, Tighnari always tops.
Now, here are the goodies:
➼ Alhaitham can be very bratty. Usually towards Tighnari who will, in turn, punish him and fuck the brat right out of him.
➼ Kaveh is a princess who needs it fast and hard. He needs his boyfriends to tell him how perfect he looks while he takes it, and how breathtaking he looks when he's fucked to tears.
➼ Cyno enjoys crossdressing every now and then. Especially after the reaction he got from Alhaitham the first time he wore a miniskirt and thigh-highs around the house.
➼ The base of Tighnari's tail is an erogenous zone. It's an easy way to help redirect his attention on days he's stressed or overworked. But it must be used sparingly lest you get an angry Tighnari rather than a horny one.
➼ Kaveh is loud. Most of the noise complaints they've gotten from the neighbors were because of him.
➼ Meanwhile, Alhaitham has never quite been able to stop his instinct to muffle his noises. So, the other three always make it a challenge to see how fast they can make him sing.
➼ Cyno has the biggest dick out of all of them, and Kaveh's mouth waters like the size queen he is whenever Cyno wears his tighter shorts.
➼ Tighnari's protective instincts go into overdrive after sex. Aftercare is of utmost importance and you are not allowed to get up until he's taken care of you.
➼ Alhaitham has very sensitive nipples.
➼ Cyno has a breeding kink. Kaveh likes to joke that it comes from Cyno's desire to be a father just so he can make more dad jokes.
➼ Kaveh is obsessed with Alhaitham's tits– I mean gazongas– I mean fat fucking milkers– I mean pecs.
➼ Tighnari has a knot, of which Kaveh is also very obsessed with.
➼ Cyno doesn't have a gag reflex and takes great advantage of that.
➼ As the tallest out of them, Alhaitham very much enjoys getting manhandled by any of his boyfriends.
➼ The morning after sex, Cyno likes to steal and wear a shirt/hoodie that belongs to whoever he fucked the night before. It's like a pride thing for him.
➼ On mornings when Kaveh's feeling particularly cheeky, he enjoys waking up one of his boyfriends with a blowjob.
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.
Alhaitham comes next. I know people like to joke about him using 3-in-1 but I'm going to throw an [OBJECTION!] here. He knows the difference between efficiency and convenience. 3-in-1 may be convenient (and possibly cheaper). But does it perform the best for the price? How does it make his hair and skin feel? He probably gets like, low-to-mid tier price soaps; plain in presentation and scent. He'd actively avoid anything with strong smells.
He's the sort that prioritises comfort and practicality, setting specific days for washing his hair and shaving etc- falling out of routine makes him feel grubby and uncomfortable.
His shelf in the bathroom has like, three things on it and it's been the same three items since forever. The only cosmetic-adjacent things he has are sunscreen, red Kohl, and a bottle of perfume from god knows when that he never uses. He can't get more stuff even if he wants to because Kaveh has taken over 75% of the cabinet.
Cyno's routine is barebones and militant. I'm talking 10 minute showers with cold water, keeping nails short, can't wear anything that would leave a trace. Being the general mahamatra isn't easy, he often finds himself on long missions where he may not have access to certain facilities. But he is trained to handle those environments and uses what he can to maintain a level of hygiene. After all, infection and illnesses would pose a risk to his mission. He can't afford to be compromised.
Saying that, he's close with Nari and Lisa so I'd like to think he has some nice things back home. It's just a shame he doesn't have many opportunities to use them. If anybody can nag him about taking care of himself, it's Cyrus. Not that Cyno needs it, but you know how parents are.
Finally, Kaveh: I fear he is at the bottom of the list. He's an advocate and lover of self care. But he's also a hypocrite in that regard. This is the guy who sleeps hunched over his drafting table with a coffee mug graveyard besides him. He goes through periods where he can't even get himself to bed, let alone wash up properly or eat at regular intervals. (I'd like to think he gets better the longer he lives with Alhaitham though).
He always pulls it together for his clients; hair is right, make up is right, outfit without a crease and his jewellery always matches. A spritz or two of his signature scent to round off his outfit. He tries his best to wear his title of "light of Kshahrewar" with pride, starting with how he presents himself.
Having taken over most of the cabinet space of his and Alhaitham's shared bathroom cupboard, Kaveh has an extensive collect of creams and fancy oils that he loves to use...when he remembers they exist. There's quite a few duplicates; bought in bulk during a sale as well as being talked into buying stuff by particularly silver-tongued merchants. He can't resist a good story.
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.
And since he allowed you to touch them, you've never been leaving them alone for more than a few minutes. You'd visit him in Gandharva and leave with a Tighnari with braided tail and bows decorated ears mentoring to a Collei who is trying not to laugh.
He would not admit it, mostly because he knew you'd tease him about it. But it didn't need a genius to know the effect your scratches had on the fox.
During cuddling session where he's the little spoon, with his head on your chest and ears in your face. Tighnari couldn't even sleep due to the rapid wagging of his tails that YOU caused by petting him.
What's funny is that the Forest watcher softly told you to not do it in Public, just for you to tease him infront of Cyno and Sethos when they visit.
His favorite things you do are probably scratching the behind of his ears, a classic. But he was also weak when you volunteered to oil up his tail (FOX TAIL.) as it would take too long for him to do it himself.
It did caught some rangers off guard as you weren't really silent. "Stop moving I can't oil it properly!" And "be carefull it hurts". It doesn't really need a smart person to understand what they could be thinking of.
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.
— 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-"