Iori is a relatively quiet person excluding when he is causing CHAOS in the KOF tournament
He wouldn’t IN THEORY love the idea of relying on someone else
But bfr if someone was willing to fund your life while you did whatever you wanted wouldn’t you accept?
Now, down to the good stuff
He’s a decent cook
Nothing spectacular but you won’t be starving🤒
EX. He has definitely tried cooking with his flames once jus bc of curiousity(the place almost burnt down)
RIP if ur vegan/vegetarian though(he loves meat-based foods)
Will help with anything you need
May or may not seem annoyed by it but he’s really not it’s just his face💀
Absolutely adores cats so you’ll have at least one roaming your halls
Dw though he’ll primarily take care of it
When he finishes with house-care and cat-care he’ll relax by a window playing his bass
He’ll totally teach you too if you’re interested
If not he’ll play for you when you’re off from work
Idc what anyone says Iori is a FASHION GOD
Every outfit EATS.
Will (If asked) plan out your outfit
No children.
It’s not that he’s bad with kids
Biological or adopted doesn’t matter
He just doesn’t trust himself to properly raise a kid
Reserved for just a “fur-baby/babies”
He’s grateful for your support and everything but is still pretty standoffish
Very sparse with affection at first
He’ll adjust it’s just that he doesn’t have many people close to him
Sticks to hand holding or small pecks on the cheek
If you were to legally get married
He’d switch to your surname without any complaints
He might not say it everyday but he truly does share a strong and passionate love for you and will do his best to make sure you don’t forget it to a certain extent
headcanon: how i think the boys would react to you asking them to deal with a surprise spider in the house
cw: spiders (which, is, given… lol), established relationship, mostly fluff & banter, you/yours for reader (mc) and presumed fear of spiders
xavier: he rolls up a nearby pamphlet and just… smacks it without hesitation. he blinks when the spider scurries away, only slightly dented at his efforts.
“huh.” he unfurls the makeshift weapon. “that’s a problem.”
“xavier?” you raise your head from the cushion you had plucked to defend yourself with. your eyes are just as wide as his. “xavier, oh no, where did it go-”
“to the next plant… probably.” he scratches his nape and gives you a small smile. reaching for your shield, he replaces it with his hand. “it’ll be okay. out of sight, out of mind.”
“sure, but what did you even hit it with…” you mumble.
a glance to the coffee table shows a slightly wrinkled promotion for bunnies hot pot. something about couples, something about certain cuts of meat being showcased for new customers…
xavier gives your hand a squeeze. “since the spider might be here for a while, why don’t we go out and eat? to get your mind off of things.”
“you just want hot pot, don’t you?”
“…maybe.”
zayne: he calmly asks for a cup so he can do the cup/sheet method and displaces the spider to an opened windowsill. he looks fine overall, but secretly, he did jump a little at first—especially since the spider was bigger than he had imagined.
“my lifesaver,” you sigh, reaching for his forearm when he returns. with a slight squeeze, you add, “what would i do without you…”
“it’s alright,” he says with a slight nod. he pats the crown of your head and adds on, “thank you for letting me know. do you feel better now?”
“i do.” placing your cheek against his chest, your arms loosely wrap around his waist. a beat passes, and you look upwards, poking just past the center of his heart. “but i think i should be asking you that, mister.”
zayne’s ears are slightly pink as he meets your gaze. “it’s nothing.”
“really?”
your fingers make a little walk upwards. past the collar and up the side of his neck, you gently pinch his earlobe. “i’ll keep this in mind the next time a spider decides to trouble us, then.”
rafayel: initially, he shares in that panic you called him over with. pulled out of his sofa-lounging reverie, rafayel stands next to you and frowns.
he readies his hand. “i’ll set it on fire, yeah?”
“okay, wait, let’s not set off the fire alarm either,” you tell him just as quickly, grasping his fingers. “something else, anything-”
the spider lifts a leg, and time seems to stand still between the three of you. then, it begins to crawl in your direction.
“it’s moving closer?!”
you both end up throwing things at the spider in a collective effort before it eventually just scurries away. silence weighs in the air as you look around and realize the place is a bit messier now. papers, spare paintbrushes and even a house slipper; all start to return to how they once were as the two of you pick up the pieces.
rafayel clears his throat. “sooo how about we move in together and away from this place?”
you glance at him. “over a spider?”
“well, duh. i don’t see why not.” he crosses his arms and gives you a wink. “we make a great team anyways, cutie. more of us and less of them sounds pretty good to me.”
sylus: one flick of his evol-studded finger and the spider is gone in his web of red-black. the spot where it once was is now spotless. and yet sylus still sits there, comfy in his chair.
you look at him in slight disbelief. countless times, you’ve seen the flawless execution of his evol in combat—against wanderers and humans alike—but over a rather small mishap is still a surprise to behold.
“is that all, sweetie?”
“i think so.” your eyes scan the floor. “there better not be another one, or i swear…”
the corner of his mouth lifts. he redirects his evol your way, curling around your waist in familiarity and settling you to stand between his legs.
hands on his shoulders, you steady yourself and glance at him with a tilted head. “can i help you?”
“a reward would be nice,” he hums. “i dealt with a nuisance to our lovely hunter. wouldn’t you agree?”
“it might've been a little overkill,” you say with a small laugh, yet cup his cheek nonetheless. “but i can think it over, if you’d like. your standards are quite high these days.”
he leans into your touch. “indeed. that would’ve been a hefty commission fee otherwise.”
caleb: he casually scoops it into his hand and decides to walk closer to you with it. a menace never grows out of their habits.
“ooh, the spider’s gonna get youuu…” he sings, that familiar glimmer in his eyes. “look at his little legs. all eight of them, crawling your way-”
“caleb, you’re a jerk!” there's both a laugh and panic in your voice. you do your best to dodge him. “get away from me! one more step and i’ll make you regret it!”
he laughs as you squirm and decides to send it off outside after entertaining the situation just a little longer. he comes back, dusting off his palms like it’s in a day’s work.
“all gone.” he raises both hands, empty. “see?”
wordlessly, you huff and a curled fist meets his bicep instead.
“ow, ouch.” he feigns an injury, despite the grin. “i just saved your life and this is how you repay me?”
“this is my thanks,” you say with a grumble. “i’ll get you next time.”
he takes your wrist and twirls you around, now effortlessly in his embrace. “you promise?”
“you sound a little too happy about this,” you remark, swaying together in a soundless rhythm unique to the two of you. “i wonder why.”
“maybe i just want to find out what you have in store for me. is that so bad?”
Thinking about Caleb spoiling you with his colonel salary.
As children he worked hard earning what little money he could to buy you sweet treats and little toys at the local convenience stores.
You were overjoyed with everything he bought you. It didn’t matter if it was cheap or fixed together with glue after the flimsy plastic broke. Caleb was the one who gave it to you so it automatically meant the world to you. Even if you broke the toy or craved more sweets, Caleb would smile and give you more.
But now, with his extremely generous pay, he can spoil you all he wants just as he’s always wanted too. Don’t get him wrong, he’s loved giving you your hearts desires as a kid. But that’s just it, he could only give you so much. Grandma didn’t always pay for everything, mainly the necessities. So he couldn’t always throw his money around.
Now though, he can buy you those designer bags, expensive makeup, artisan craftsmanship tools, the latest gaming console, high quality sports equipment or anything else you desire. His card knows no limits.
It took you a while to get used to it. Going from budget dinners as a kid and instant food when you were grieving his death became luxury banquets. Of course, all paid and provided for by Caleb. It was foreign. But not unwelcome.
He always reassured you that he wants to pay for you. It makes his heart grow three times seeing you scarf down premium meets, fresh vegetables and decadent desserts. Providing for you and ensuring you’re well taken care of is all he wants and needs.
Whatever hobby, beauty service or vacation you want is paid by him. You couldn’t be happier.
And all he asks in return is for you to stay with him and spend the next hundred years together.
Sorry for the little hiatus I’ve been so busy recently but! I have brain rot of rich Colonel Caleb Xia 😝 oh to have Caleb pay for your hair appointments I didn’t know it was that expensive 😞 will get back to proper writing soon 🫡
Please can I request a headcanon/fic of Vincent finding out his s/o is pregnant but is worried about other scientists like Hojo coming out of the woodwork to experiment on his s/o and child.
Thanks! :)
Hey! Yes of course!
The minute he finds out your pregnant he had a full internal meltdown.
His thoughts are all over the place, but all you're met with is silence.
He would probably need a couple of days alone to process everything
Once he's had a minute he goes full throttle into protector mode.
Could get to the point where its actually a bit difficult to navigate with him becoming somewhat controlling
He is absolutely terrified that some scheming scientists will get there hands on you, to tried to make you keep it a secret for as long ad possible.
He won't even tell your friends for fear of anyone overhearing or intercepting calls (not that he has a phone, but if he did)
A stranger starts talking to you in a shop...he's there looming, giving them a death stare until they back away.
You would need to continually reassure him
He thinks his anxiety may ease once you've had the baby, but oh boy...
#tags-and-cw ★ NSFW! AFAB!READER DRABBLE. . . intimatacy rules, small banter, he's insatiable, you're both in your late 30's to early 40's, erectile overfunction (he has it BAD), he has body hair 'cause duhhh, established relationship (u guys are married here), i love casual intimacy, this is just sweet vanilla sex (dont expect anything kinky).
another late night where your beloved came home late. stacks upon stacks of paperwork had kept him long past sunset again, and by the time he finally stumbled into your arms he was little more than a walking corpse.
you would often find him passed out on the couch the next morning — an empty mug of beer still loosely clutched in his hand, snoring loud enough it could replace your alarm.
after a hearty meal he’d always claim he was only going to take a short nap.
twenty minutes, he’d say.
those twenty minutes inevitably turned into eight hours.
the next morning he’d whine about it, voice rough with sleep, insisting he had an awful night because your warmth wasn’t beside him.
(as if he hadn’t been drooling all over the damn couch.)
“insufferable,” you’d mutter, an exasperated scowl on your face.
varka would only laugh at that — loud, bright, utterly unashamed, 'cause of course he is, he's varka for archons' sake.
“but still yours, no?”
which was, (un)fortunately, true.
even if he gave you migraines on the daily. even if he was utterly unbearable sometimes.
varka was yours, as much as you're his.
decades of marriage had taught you many things about the man you loved. some grand, some small, some hidden in the quiet habits he didn’t even realize he had.
but you'd see them all, no mattter how miniscule they may seem.
you knew the way exhaustion settled into his shoulders after long days, knew the look of him when he walked through the door.
dim ocean blues, a crooked, tired smile, muscles aching beneath his coat.
these days he would simply press a quick kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the bathroom to wash the grime off his skin then spare a few minutes for mantaining his swords, talking about the day with you as he wipes and polishes them to perfection.
and inevitably, after a meal, he'd end up passing out just about anywhere but your shared bed.
you knew your husband very well.
which is why the moment he steps through the door tonight, you kmow something is different.
his eyes meet yours.
and the fire burning in them — sharp, bright, dangerously familiar — sends a shiver down your spine.
“i’m home,” varka whispers, boots heavy against the wooden floorboards as he crosses the room.
tonight he isn’t wearing his usual coat, nor the small pieces of armor that usually cling to him like a second skin. they’re nowhere to be seen. instead, he’s dressed only in a black shirt — the top buttons carelessly left undone.
half of his chest is exposed through the open buttons — scarred skin, a faint trail of blonde hair, and the familiar wolf-tooth necklace swaying faintly with each step he takes.
yet somehow, tonight, everything about him feels. . . different.
"sorry if i've kept you waiting," he places a light peck on the side of your lips, eyes gazing straight at you as he does.
predatory.
that was the gaze of someone who wanted to devour something — or in this case, someone.
warm, large palms rest just above the side of your hips, and you can feel the way he presses slightly, inching your body closer to his.
"no 'welcome home, honey' for me?" a deep chuckle spilled from him, soft with fondness, "finally got tired of your husband, hm?"
his eyes gleam with a certain hunger, tracing over the shape of your lips to the half-exposed cleavage of your dress.
varka does not lighten his grip, eventually pushing you further and further until your back hits the wall. leaning over until he's got you trapped between his frame and the wood now, faces mere inches apart.
you could hear the sound of his heartbeat, loud yet steady.
gulping the sudden nervousness, you were about to welcome him home as you usually did.
before you could speak, he captures you in a deep kiss, discarding whatever restraint he has. varka places a hand behind your head, softly caressing, before forcing your face closer into his waiting mouth.
he can barely keep it together, chest heaving with every rhythmic dance of his lips on yours.
"welcome—mmph—" kiss. "ahhn, home. . ." kiss.
you whine at his desperation, "varka—"
he groans into your mouth at the mere mention of his name, lips turning even more desperate. the sound rattles your bones, making you squirm against him.
and with how large the knight is, you're practically engulfed in his arms, body pressing onto the flimsy fabric of your dress until you eventually mold into one, until you eventualy feel it —
your face goes red immediately, and you hopelessly try to hold onto his biceps as he grinds the very obvious bulge against you.
you can hear every wet smack of his lips on yours, the lecherous sound bouncing off the sides of your throat into your ear. he's practically devouring you by this point, panting into the wet cavern of your mouth.
there’s a hunger in the way he looks at you, not for anything fleeting, but for the entirety of you — your voice, your laughter, the way you carry yourself
he needs you so bad that it's breaking him apart.
a small yelp escapes you when varka suddenly lifts you into his arms.
the motion pulls your lips from his, the kiss breaking too soon. he doesn’t go far, though — only tilts his head forward until his forehead rests against yours, breath warm against your skin.
your hands fumble to rest at his shoulders, steadying yourself in his arms.
"yeah, much better," he laughs, bright as ever, "my back was killin' me, leaned over too much."
varka's moved the both of you to the living room now, hs probably knocked into a few things on the way but the two of you are much too distracted to care.
"it's not my fault you're built like a hilichurl tower." you quip, looking to the sides so you can avoid his peering eyes.
he flashes you a fond, crooked grin, resting his face on your chest. "hilichurl tower? surely, there are better structures to describe someone like me."
"like what, grandmaster?"
"a guizhong ballista?"
". . . i have no idea what that is."
varka lingers dangerously near your throat, warm breath brushing your skin.
"hah, don't worry, love— you'll find out soon."
you're sitting on his lap now, directly over the twitching bulge of his cock. your thighs flinch at every shift of his hips, feeling it brush over your warmth.
he's nipping at your exposed neck, leaving faint marks that you'll scold him for in the morning. though, varka could care less about the scolding he'll get when he has you exactly how he wants you:
flushed, trembling, and soaking wet.
the strap of your dress starts to fall off your shoulder, revealing the rest of your cleavage for him to stare at. he's mesmerized at how beautiful you look, finding it hard to believe he has you all for himself.
"have i ever told you how beautiful you are?" he rasps, unzipping your dress from behind. maybe it's because of the way he's speaking to you in that tone, looking at you with that gaze, but you suddenly feel like putty in his hands.
"many times, i believe you say it everyday."
he chuckles, "really?" pulling the dress down further until it's bunched at your hips. "s'pose i can't really help it when you make me hard every damn time i walk into this house."
you feel him lick and suck bruises into your skin, each mark blooming red and pink across the canvas of your flesh — a vivid display of his relentless desire for you.
"aren't you embarrassed being this shameless at your big age?"
even well past thirty, there’s still that same restless hunger in the way he looks at you, the same eagerness in the way his hands find yours. time may have carved new lines into his face and scattered scars across his body, but it has never managed to dull the way he wants you.
varka makes a show of caressing your thighs, pushing your skirt along with it, "shameless? i'm just being honest, don't you like an honest man?"
he sneaks a glimpse at the cotton underwear hidden beneath, swallowing the urge to push them aside and take you already.
"maybe if this honest man stopped seducing me everytime he came home, i'll like him better." you huff, carding your fingers through his disheveled hair.
he looks back up at you.
"oh?" varka smiles toothily, amusement rolling off him in waves, "so the lady screamin' for more last night was just a figment of my imagination then? the very same lady who rode me so well she—"
memories of last night started flowing into your head, causing you to fluster.
your hands immediately fly to his mouth, shutting him up for good, "okay! i get it, that's enough!"
you hear his muffled laughter through the gaps of your palms, his eyes crinkling with shameless amusement.
meanwhile you’re left flushed and needy beneath him.
it’s terribly unfair.
for all the years you’ve had this man wrapped around your finger, not once have you felt undesired.
if anything, there were moments you felt too desired.
his appetite for you was relentless — rivaled only by his well-known love for alcohol.
passion has never dimmed in your marriage,. you were in an eternal state of the so-called 'honeymoon phase' where the two of you fucked like rabbits and slobbered over each other anytime you can.
that never changed, even as varka traded the reckless, stubborn youth he once was for the measured, commanding man worthy of the grandmaster’s position.
you actually found it quite funny that the young boy who used to cause a ruckus everyday for valentine would mellow down into this boisterous but dependable leader.
he's changed so much over the years, turning into the pillar of strength in mondstadt — a legend among men.
and even so, he still acted the same with you, as if he was that same bumbling fool who professed his love to anyone who would listen.
varka might have changed — in ways that might seem inconsequential to anyone else — but deep down, he was still the same man you married all those years ago.
even down to that insatiable hunger he always carried for you.
your husband has you laid out on the sofa, legs wrapped around his waist — though they never quite meet around him, his broad frame simply too large, pressing you close in all the ways you’ve grown to know and crave.
"is it too much, hun?" varka asks, combing a hand through his hair to keep it away from his eyes, all so he could stare at the way your face scrunched up for him, kiss-swollen lips trembling from the stretch.
"need me to slow down a li'l?"
you vigorously shake your head, clutching at the large palm softly caressing your cheek, "no, no, keep going, please—"
varka laughs at your desperate cries, pushing a bit further into your warmth. it's always been necessary to prep you for hours before you could take him without much pain, and varka doesn't mind the extra work – he quite enjoys it actually.
but you don't have that patience, too needy and wanting to feel him inside you as soon as possible. he finds it very cute by the way, seeing you beg for it always gets blood rushing to his nether regions in no time.
"taking me so well," he whispers, kissing your forehead, "just a bit more, mhm? be a good girl f'me."
you whimper, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he starts to slowly thrust back and forth, and it immediately makes you even wetter, soaking him in your juices.
varka lets out a lengthy groan, throwing his head back when he feels you clench around him.
“fuck,” his brows pull together, beads of sweat trailing down the hairs of his chest. “relax a bit. . . gonna break me at this rate.”
varka chuckles lowly, an obscene grin curling across his lips.
"s-sorry. . . " you say, clinging to his arms like it's the only thing anchoring you to reality.
his wolf-tooth pendant sway with every delicious roll of his hips, nailing you to the cushion, the metal glinting under the dim-lighting of your home.
your eyes linger on the many scars along his chest and arms, each one waz a testament to the battles he’s survived — a symbol of courage, of years spent facing danger without hesitation for the sake of his lobed ones.
and yet it’s the very same body he uses to carry you to bed, careful hands far gentler than anyone could imagine.
the same arms that once raised a blade now wrap around you with an ease that feels almost tender, as if the weight of war and bloodshed melts away the moment you’re in them.
it always amazes you — how a man built for battle can hold you like something precious.
varka's lips found its way to the dip of your neck, licking anywhere he could while his hips gain a steady rhythm for the both of you.
and soon enough, you start to see blurry white stars along the edges of your vision.
decades may have passed between the two of you, yet varka’s desire has never learned how to calm itself. age has softened many things in life, but not this — not the way his hands still find you with the same urgency, thee same hunger as it did all those years ago.
time may wear down mountains, but it has never managed to wear down the fire he carries for you.
"still, ah, with me?" varka asks, face still buried in the crook of your neck. his voice a soft and warm thing, contrasting the way his hips viciously slam against your soaking heat.
you could barely even garble an answer, moaning and whimpering his name at every hard thrust.
varka gently pushes your knees toward your chest, holding you close as he leans over you, his presence overwhelming in the small space between you.
you could feel every vein and throb of his thick cock, the way he stretches you out sooo good that it leaves you limbless.
he's got an arm under both of knees, locking them together, and pushing them to the side of his waist.
"take a deep breath for me," varka warns you, chuckling at the way your pussy seems to respond instead, pulsing around him with need.
he fucks you roughly, frantically pushing in and pulling out. bright red marks start to form on your ass, his pelvis repeatedly hitting against it.
every loud slap of skin makes you go dizzy, mind turning into mush as you let yourself get lost into the throes of pleasure.
your neighbors could probably hear you by now, moaning so loud that the sound bounces off the walls. varka could care less, more than happy to let you disturb the ones nextdoors — what are they gonna do? complain to the knights of favonius?
plus, hearing you sing his name like this, talking about how good everything feels and how he's 'too big' just pushes him off the edge.
he leans over to lick your lips, fingers brushing onto the side of your face.
"too much, hngh. . . "
varka laughs quietly against your ear, the sound deep and gravelly, “oh, but you love it rough. don’t you, pretty?”
your nearly roll to the back of your head, a line of drool slipping past your parted lips, "yes, i do! love it s'much—"
"really?" varka teases, voice low with desire. he wipes the drool with his thumb before bringing it back to your lips, "tell me how good it is then, c'mon, cry for me."
cry for me.
this is the only time varka would let tears run down your face willingly. he loves seeing how good he makes you feel, especially through the soft cries of his name.
"i love you! i love you!" you wail, feeling him speed up, the sounds of skin against skin getting louder. "ah! varka—"
he’s practically buzzing with adoration, every muscle taut and alive with each “i love you” that slips from your lips. even now, his heart leaps every time you praise him — a feeling that has never waned, no matter how many years have passed.
he bites his lip, letting his hips do the talking.
the sofa shakes with every brutal thrust, wood creaking under his weìght and strength.
he laughs, a low rumbling thing that makes your cunt throb, "fucking gorgeous, could never get tired of this pussy—hah, shit."
"could never, ever, get tired of you."
a mixture of sweat, drool, and cum is splattered across his meaty thighs and sticking to the trail of hair along his navel.
varka loves it when you make a mess — whether it’s around the house or on his cock. to him, it simply means his wife feels comfortable enough to let herself go around him.
and he loves it the most when you arch so beautifully in his arms, cunt clamping hard on him as you cum — you could call it an addiction with the way he groans at the way your eyes cross, whimpering his name.
"i love you too," varka whispers into your ear, leaving small butterfly kisses along the shell of it, "gonna—ugh—cum." he stutters, a low exhale leaving his lips.
your nails scratch down along his shoulders, leaving bright red marks but the pain doesn't register for him, too busy chasing his release.
not that something as small as a scratch could ever faze him.
his eyes never leave yours, following every tremble, every small gasp, as if he could memorize you whole. varka’s expression stays gentle, even as his hands leave indents on your skin — a silent tether, a promise you’re not going anywhere.
even through overestimated tears, you manage to see the silhouette of his face, desperate in a way he shouldn't be. after all, he had you nearly everyday, so why is it that he always fucks you as if it's your last?
varka presses down on you — hard. putting most of his weight onto you while you keen, cumming for a second time.
his hips goes completely still, filling you to the brim with all of his length.
all while he crashes his lips into yours — hungry, desperate, and all consuming, moaning into the kiss while your tears fall from overwhelming pleasure.
"sorry, honey. . . i don't think i'll be able to hold back tonight."
"ugh, maybe i should just go ahead and get married too. . . " one of the junior knight sighs dreamily, looking at the grandmaster's bright grin as he steps into the favonius headquarters.
his partner looks at him with a confused expression, "hah? what brought this on?"
the junior knight, palez, points over to varka, "the grandmaster gets to come home to a sweet, loving wife and a warm meal. . . that's why he's always smiley like that, look at how much he's glowing!"
"are you mentally ill?"
a suave voice cuts in, "oh dear, gossiping about the grandmaster's love life in such an open space, getting a little too chummy are we?"
kaeya and rosaria look at the two knights, and an air of chill sweeps through making them shiver. when put together, these two are no joke (outside of a tavern).
"s-sorry! captain kaeya, sister rosaria! it won't happen again." the two frantically salute, palms already getting sweaty.
kaeya laughs lightly, saluting half-heartedly as he walks away. rosaria follows right behind, her expression as icy as ever.
step.
step.
step.
". . . ."
"you think she's alright?" kaeya whispers, cringing at the thought of you being bedridden again.
rosaria can only scoff, massaging her temples as if talking about it was already giving her a migraine, "likely not. she hasn't gone to good hunter all morning which means she's. . ."
"especially since he's looking so refreshed then she's probably. . . " kaeya trails off, silently praying for your recovery.
speak of the devil.
kaeya straightens up, smiling like normal. rosaria rolls her eyes, wincing at the loud voice.
"oh, hey— it's you two! thank barbatos! mind doin' me a small favor?" varka greets them with an enthusiastic wave, a bright, boyish grin on his face.
and he shall appear.
"jean's gonna tie me to the desk at this rate," varka grumbles, "so i was hoping you two could drop this off for me—"
he shoves them something warm wrapped in cloth, rosaria takes it and perks up at the familiar smell of food — it's your favorite dish from good hunter.
kaeya shares a look with her, looking back up at varka with a sly grin, "of course, leave it to us."
.
.
.
it's just another day at mondstadt.
oddly enough, you woke up that morning with your stomach feeling warmer than usual.
it's probably nothing.
#it's-your-captain-ari-speaking ☆ i was listening to sade while scrolling on twitter dot come when i suddenly came across such a golden tweet that inspired me to immediately open my tumblr drafts to goonwrite.
I KNOWW ITS ASS...im sorry i just wrote this in between other longfics.....just...take rhis for now...ill edit it when i have time
btw just a funny thing i added but he laughs/chuckles a lot in this fic, this is bcs i went through his voicelines and istg — this guy always has to let out a "AHAHAHAHAHA!" or "hahahaha. . . " or even a small "heh." like omg shuuut up....he just be hootin' and hollerin' all over mondstadt bro 😭😭 he is soo happy to be alive.
i asked the gc for a title, and 8 out of 11 people voted for "AITA for fucking my wife too often??" while the rest either voted/recommended "a case of erectile overfunction" or "HOPPIN' DIH DIH DIH" which cracks me up a bit.
anyways brought to you by this #truthnuke of a tweet lol:
Imagine you reject them with only one reason, you are too good for me–how would they react
Calm down, we'll be okay
Just some turbulence, we're on our way
We're going down, but not today
We'll never say mayday
Yandere genshin men x reader ( diluc, alhaitham, varka, lohen )
>> sorry if it's a little messy
DILUC
Everything was perfect, he proposed to you on the hill overlooking dawn winery–he expects you would say yes but instead he is met with a no by you, before he could do anything you ran as fast as you can leaving him there shocked. The entire night he's stressed and would think of many reasons why you decided to reject him–he didn't receive any blank sleep that night and when he opened the curtains as well as Adeline knocking on his door to give him his morning coffee it was already day time.
The next day, he barged into your office in the favonius headquarters–and begged for an explanation why you rejected him, he was desperate for an answer. Give him an explanation, did he do something wrong or is there another person he needs to fight for your love.
He is taken aback when you said that he was too good for you, diluc brain would stop working for a second. You believe that he deserves someone better than you, maybe marrying another heiress or a woman who is intelligent. Diluc would absolutely found your reason as childish yet truthful, how sweet are you believing that you don't deserve him–who are you to decide it, he chooses you as his wife and that's final.
You underestimate him as well as you. He doesn't care about other women and how others would be better for him, he chooses you because he loves you. He would be heartbroken that you think so lowly of yourself–he only wants you and have eyes only for you, and if you don't have the courage to love yourself then he would gladly fill that role.
To this day, mondstat and its citizens would remember how diluc the uncrowned king of Mondstat chased his spouse yelling assurance to them. "YOU'RE TO GOOD FOR ME" "I WILL LOVE YOU FOR ALL ETERNITY" "YOU DESERVE BETTER" "I DON'T WANT 'BETTER', I WANT YOU".
ALHAITHAM
Alhaitham has already calculated and planned everything to your futures would look like, what type of gifts would gift to you towards your anniversary, what flowers that would be displayed in your wedding and what ring you guys would have. Everything was thought through, if plan A failed there's still plan B to work if not plan C would work.
Unlike diluc who would propose in a hill with a perfect view, alhaitham would be proposed when you guys are alone. Because he feels safe being vulnerable with you. While kaveh drunk out of his mind, alhaitham would casually ask you to marry him but he's eyes are filled with hope and love at you.
When you rejected him, he would start to ask questions about what led you to reject him–was it something he did or anything that would cause you to say no, to the point he overwhelmed you–leaving him alone in the cafe with his only thoughts. He would barge in towards cyno and tighnari tgcf game to ask what he would do to get rejected, honestly they are as shocked as he is–kaveh suggested that he is not romantic, or tighnari would find his direct approach as wrong because he might overwhelmed you.
The next day hes on a quest to find you and have an answer, but when your eyes meet each other–you start to run hoping to avoid him. He manages to corner you in an isolated part in the house of daena–he would come and ask you face to face what causes you to reject him.
He would have a face of dumbfoundedness when you said that he's too good for you, he is looking at your confession as if a scholar saying that the moon is made out of blue cheese–highly Inlogical. Now how can those exact thoughts come to your mind, has a person been feeding you with lies and doubts about your own worth. He would be silent but after the silence he would say with pride that he loves you and nobody would ever stop that. He carries you in bridal style towards his house, and when people asked him he would be proud of stating a fact that you are the love of his life.
VARKA
By far in his age, many would ask why he is still not married yet or settle down. He would laugh it off, saying that he was often too busy protecting mondstat to find love in his life. He would often put mondstat above his own needs, so it's a weird sensation when he meets you–when he's eyes meet your eyes, he sees you guys future reflect on your eyes.
Varka would start to court you, and would ask for advice from barbatos, married couples, and heck from Alice and the other hexenzirkel members wanting to know how to court you. He is determined to have you, is this a gift from fate towards his sacrifice. Even if he loses the title of hero, at least he's able to keep one thing from that future–having you as the love of his life.
When he confesses to you, he is met with rejection–that instantly leaves him stunned and just stands there with all his thoughts eventually he is found drinking more than usual and crying out your name on why you would reject him. Kaeya, rosaria and diluc would be there for emotional support–the entire time hes drunk, he is monologuing on how beautiful you are which makes the atmosphere awkward.
For the next few days, varka would be more upset to do any paperwork causing jean more duties. The mondstat instantly senses the shift of attitude from the grandmaster–even when flora offers him a Cecilia to make him happy, "it's beautiful like... ( Name )" Then continue to cry again–he would start to debate with himself whenever or not he asked for a love potion from Alice.
When jean got tired of all this heartbroken varka, she decided to drag you to his office and lock you in until you and him reach an understanding. When hes eyes found you, he immediately went on his knees and wrapped his arms on your waist starting to cry asking you why did you reject him, and when you tell him the ultimate reason of him deserving a better person than you–his ugly crying immediately stops and lifts his head from your stomach and he ask with dead seriousness who told you that. He would stand up and pin you to the door and would then to rant on how your logic is not right as well as breaking for each other's hearts–he would say that it's not your place to torture yourself like this and would say how much he loves you. The next hour, a wedding is already planned.
LOHEN
Similar towards his enthusiasm over battles, lohen sees love as another form of battle–fighting for dominance and if you love somebody, he sees that it's something that you have to prove for and fight for it. If he chooses you, then he has to be ready to fight through anything to have you. For the past few months hes been bringing dead carcass of rare and beautiful monsters as well as purposely causing himself injured just to see you patch him up, he would often put the dead carcass of monsters in your door stop as a way to court you and to show you his devotion towards you.
Lohen is in a state of obsessive love to the point you plague all his thoughts, he would purposely put himself in fights with monster as not the only way to put his moves to the test but also thinking of which monster would you love–when he's done, he would choose the most beautiful out of the monster and bring it to you as an offering of love.
And when you rejected him, he immediately went into a rampage around mondstat fighting monsters for two days straight and taking his frustration on them while also ranting what causes you to reject him–did you find him scary or is there another on your picture, he knew that Huffman have been getting to comfortable with you. He will be sure to spar with him, so that he can win your heart.
It got so bad, to the point varka himself got to intervene in the vice captain of the fifth company's broken heart phase. Varka knows that hes unable to stop lohen, but he brings a secret weapon with him... You of course. And when lohen sees varka and you walking towards him after not returning to mondstat, he is charged in full speed–varka got his claymore ready but instead of him, lohen tackled you instead.
He immediately pins you "is there another one in your heart, do I have to kill them" "what do I do to have your love" and when you told him that he deserves better, lohen would be stunned and would burst in laughter and started to say how doesn't want better he wants you, and how much he's willing to do for you to the point it even creeped out varka. But I guess that work, because lohen cameback to mondstat after two days of not returning unable to let you go and the entire journey glaring at varka because how dare the grandmaster crash his date with you.
preciso de mais conteúdo de castlevania aqui, mas o verdadeiro castlevania, não aquela porcaria que a netflix fez. quero ler fanfic com o alucard sendo ele mesmo, taciturno, solitário, cavalheiro, eternamente fiel a promessa que fez a mãe dele, nada daquele personagem totalmente diferente que fizeram na animação.
quero mais conteúdo do soma cruz!! o jogo dele é muito bom e merece mais reconhecimento, fora ele mesmo ser um personagem muito interessante.
espero que aquela porcaria nunca mais tenha temporada nova. é triste um jogo com uma essência tão incrível, um marco gótico fantasioso, com referencias a filmes de terror antigo, ter uma adaptação tão mediocre
planejo começar a escrever minhas próprias fanfics em algum momento, deveria ter feito isso há muito tempo na verdade, mas minha vida tá uma bagunça ultimamente.
i need more castlevania content here, but the real castlevania, not that crap netflix made. I want to read fanfiction with alucard being himself: taciturn, solitary, a gentleman, eternally faithful to the promise he made to his mother, nothing like that totally different character they made in the animation.
i want more soma cruz content!! his game is very good and deserves more recognition, besides him being a very interesting character.
a game with such an incredible essence, a gothic fantasy landmark, with references to old horror movies, to have such a shitty adaptation is sad.
i plan to start writing my own fanfiction at some point, i should have done it a long time ago, but my life has been a mess lately.
