misty

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐀

[yoimix]

about + nav.

hihi everyone!! my name is misty!! ~and welcome to yoimix! i’m currently writing for genshin impact !! ♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡

i’m 22 years old, i main yoimiya+itto, and i write intermittently bc grad school is kicking my ass harder than the golden wolflord rn </3 i hope you have fun on this blog if you happen to stumble across (≧◡≦)

✽ masterlist  ☀️

✽ rules ✨

✽ about misty 🤫

[yoimix]

yn ****ing ayato and alhaitham 🤭

i will **** you too as a display of my affection 😘 soon. when you're not embarrassed about hanging out w me in public 😔💔 buuuut i've added this to my drafts, i will post soon just for you queen ty for the req 💕

[yoimix]

genshin reaction where yn bites their s/o since you want to **** ayato 🥺

NOW LISTEN I DONT KNOW WHY GENSHIN CENSORS BITE 😭 i am a. child of god. idk what you're talking about but i will write you anything bbygirl who do you want 🥰

[yoimix]

「 from eden 」

if the rtawahist theory of parallel universes is true, you are certain that you would hate ALHAITHAM in every single one of them. 

it is an ambitious theory, however. alhaitham calls it fiction.

“that’s not what the algorithm does,” he grumbles, lowering his head to rest his forehead against his palm. he looks nearly as distressed as a pyro fungus on water.

“i did not draw the wrong chart.”

“you filled in incorrect values.”

“no way.”

“i can’t believe i’m here with you at 3am.” he heaves his deepest sigh yet, mingling into the cold air outside puspa cafe. you prefer the warm, coffee-scented interior, but to get your words across, you need them to ring inside his thick skull.

“well, what else were you gonna do? sleep?” you roll your eyes.

“yes.”

you pull a face at his expressionless response. 

“now, let’s go over the algorithm again,” he presses, eyes piercing enough to draw you closer, and bowlike lips sporting his regular frown. there is no need for him to be here. he just happened upon you at the cafe five hours ago, just to point out the mistake in your assignment. of course, that didn’t end well. you’d rather deep fry and eat a consecrated shell than let a man tell you how to solve your problems. so, he didn’t need to be here. he just never left.

the answer to that is simple: in every single universe, he will choose you over anyone else.

not that you’re aware. alhaitham makes sure you never will be. he’s unfamiliar with languages of the heart; and no amount of your biting remarks and teasing voice, your pensive smile and zaytun perfume, will get him to pronounce the syllables right.

he looks over at you, your full lips moving at rapid speed as you reiterate the contents of your lecture. the side of your neck is exposed, and the distance isn’t so wide that he can lean in comfortably. no, if he did, his shoulder would touch yours, and his hot breath would be against your skin. then maybe he’d get to hear your words die in your throat. these few inches are haphazard, bordering the lines between friends and a face you cannot stand. 

what a wonderful caricature of intimacy, he thinks.

“even if this language has the structure you claim, it’s nearly impossible to know. this poem could be dating to thousands of years ago!” you exclaim, growing frustrated, “are you sure about this? i’m starting to think it can’t be deciphered.”

you’re done with translating the first part. it is as abstruse as can be, and you’ve been scratching your head over it for the past three days. you’re not sure if you’re supposed to solve it like a riddle, or agonize through the steps of the translation algorithm to complete. though, the embodiment of agony is already seated beside you.

what is the difference between me and the sky? 

hell, if you know. you’re not even sure what’s happening anymore. the letters float across your vision, little taunts in their movement. teetering on the edge of dropping out, you groan again.

“i think you should get some rest,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

your shoulders sag, and alhaitham wonders if he said something wrong. 

“don’t patronize me.”

“i am not.”

“i never know what you mean, and what you don’t,” you mutter, picking up your pen again to scribble notes on the corners of the paper. it contains alhaitham’s neat explanations, arrows indicating grammar and some numbers signifying the presumed utilization years of this lost language. yours looks like a little kid’s next to his.

but i say what i mean, he thinks. is there a point to saying it out loud? his chest constricts at the idea of you curling your lips, dismissing his chest laid bare for your predefined ideas. he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him. but something in your voice betrays this thought of his. 

his aventurine eyes settle over you. but you bear no distaste, only mild annoyance from this wall you’ve hit. he must say, you’re a commendable scholar. the relentless pursuit of knowledge has far more meaning than simply possessing it, and he’s seen your weary form in the house of daena at too many midnights. you are self-sufficient and he’s certain you’ll arrive at the answer anyway.

“i’ll be leaving then,” he says, standing up. “i hope your darshan doesn’t find you groveling by a stack of papers in the morning. it’s rather unbecoming of their paragon.”

a shout of exasperation leaves you, your shoulders tense.

“it’s because of you the haravatat are known as snobs!” you shoot, crossing your arms.

“it is your choice to believe in rumors,” he responds, idly gazing at your form. “it reflects you more than me.”

“do you always have to be so robotic?”

“i’m more well off than most, so i doubt changing my mannerisms will be of benefit to me.”

you exhale, on the verge of exasperation. “do you ever hear yourself? i can’t imagine the agony your poor roommate goes through.”

“kaveh has nothing to do with this.” he grits his teeth. 

“no one has anything to do with you, alhaitham.” you stand up, glaring at him. “to you, people are no different from cats, or dogs, or- or flies—you don’t seem to understand that our languages were made to bring us closer.”

“they were invented for communication. a group that understands each other survives longer.” 

that is true. but you’re not wrong either, even if you’ve chosen more romantic phrasing. 

“i think—”

“archons,” you fume. “what about poetry? and literature, and dedication pages at the start of novels? we do it for each other.”

“your own perception adds substance to sentimental texts. i cannot agree with the poets. they led far different lives than i do.”

you scoff. “your little bubble of comfort is all you care about, don’t you? pray tell why you bothered with this anyway. was it to stroke your own ego? i... i genuinely believed you wanted to help.”

that one stung a little.

“you seem to have an entire image of me already. do i have to be present here?”

you heat up in the face, nearing a boiling point. you’ll have to apologize to enteka for causing a commotion; but your mind is heavy and you cannot quite think clearly. 

“i understand that you don’t bother with what people think of you. but you could at least be honest with me- without- without your damn glaring, or sarcasm or—”

“i don’t look at you with the intention to glare.” he raises his voice for once. “i cannot let you see what i’m experiencing because i don’t know what it is yet—and it is imperative you don’t poke your nose into this.”

his chest heaves as he steadies his breathing. there is nothing you can say, not when you’re taken aback by his quiet outburst.

“and i’m not frowning like you think i am. i am simply not wearing an expression at all. my collection is unordered but i mark my books alphabetically when i lend them to you. i say i bring an extra cup of coffee to have a second fill even though i know you will ask to have it. i despise the conditioning in people that they must pair up in meaningful ways for a good life. and despite that...”

he catches his breath, not realizing he was holding it in.

your eyes have softened by now, waiting patiently for him to continue.

“...if i were to end my speculations and call this love, i would be satisfied.”

you part your lips and close them again. to expect an answer, perhaps, is a grave overestimation on his part. some things are better left unsaid. it’s how languages die.

alhaitham sighs. “right. it’s too strong a word. i mean to say i feel comfortable around you. and content. though i never thought there was anything amiss in my life. as for affection, i am not familiar with this kind. and—”

you cup his face, still at a loss for words. “you talk so much. i never realized.”

“last time, you said i don’t talk enough.”

“i just like the sound of your voice.”

he purses his lips, and swallows his words. once more, you have decided to speak in a language he has no expertise in. the drumming in his heart says he cannot wait to read poetry in it.

“no more sighing, haitham. and no more glaring. no sarcasm. and no irony.”

he furrows his brows, but he makes no attempt to release himself from your touch.

“say it again. your conclusion.”

his lips part, a sharp breath running through his lungs.

“i believe this is the notion of love. every gesture points to it.”

“is your head clouded?”

“no. it’s never been clearer.”

and he lets you lean in closer, closer till your lips are brushing against his.

“so?” you whisper.

it takes him a moment. he closes the distance, and though he has rarely felt devotion, he moves his mouth against yours in a fervent prayer. carefully, he rests his hand against the small of your back, more to steady himself than you.

this makes sense to him. you’re so familiar. like dragging his fingers on his mirror from ages ago, he finds you a perfect image of what could’ve been. you and him are pages of the same incoherent book, dancing between the same two sentences.

“for clarity’s sake,” he whispers, pulling away. “i say what i mean. i’ve lived long enough to know misunderstandings are beyond my control, and truth is something to be actively pursued to gain. but i cannot stand the screen between my words and your ears.”

his gaze is focused, unwavering. it’s the way he’s always looked at you.

“i know,” you respond, after a moment. “i know what you mean. and if it is your words that you want me to actively pursue—”

he clears his throat. “that- that is not what i said.”

“—then i will do so.”

you smile, and he can feel his lips twitch.

“well, i’m no genius...”

“neither am i,” he interjects softly. “but i’m persistent. i will keep trying, over and over. and if i’m not wrong, you’re the same.”

“you’re not wrong.”

have you always looked at him this way? he thought he’s seen all of your faces before. a new language blossoms in his mind. for once, literary devices are more than just devices.

“the poets are wrong,” you state, laughing bashfully, “it’s not so earth-shattering as i thought. maybe... maybe you were right on that part.”

a small smile forms on his face, and your breath hitches in your throat. “that’s ironic. i thought i finally understood them.”

“really? then do you know the answer to this ancient poem from the sands of hadravameth?” your eyes are curious as ever. “what is the difference between me and the sky?”

he recalls the lines from a long-buried poem, and they click in his head. the sands cannot swallow words as well as it swallows life.

“the difference, my love, is that when you laugh, i forget about the sky.”

[yoimix]

genshin men + sleepless nights

ft. diluc, xiao, kaveh

playlist. afterglow - taylor swift ; like real people do - hozier ; kiss goodnight - i don’t how but they found me

[ tw: nightmares, suggestive ]

✽ diluc is well-acquainted with nightmares. he often wakes up in the quiet of the night to dreadful noise inside his head, grating, punishing him for the past. but now that he instead meets your soft touch and warm breath, he finds himself calming down easier. i’ll keep you safe. he’s said that to you before, in the heat of battle. only recently did he discover you’re keeping that promise when the flames have died down. the world is cruel, but despite that, he will still love you. that is his promise to you. even through rapid, unsteady breathing, he seeks out the nook of your shoulder, pressing his forehead against your skin like you’re the magic remedy to his ailments. you shiver sometimes, mumbling that his hair tickles; it only makes him sigh in relief, and you hold yourself back from giggling maniacally at the sensation. you smooth his hair away from your neck but he only buries himself further in.

“diluc.”

“mhm.”

“now, you’re just messing with me, aren’t you?”

“why would i ever do that?”

you huff and diluc smiles, lips pressing against your neck in a flurry of soft kisses.

“diluc! that tickles,” you complain, weakly pushing his head away. a deep chuckle rumbles from him and he rises to finally meet your eyes.

“can i kiss you?” he whispers, suddenly sincere.

“now you ask? after you’ve violated my poor neck like that?”

“you didn’t complain last time.” he raises an eyebrow.

“really, diluc?” you scoff. “where’s all this unbridled confidence coming from? usually you’d blush like a newly-wed bride the moment i whisper something in your ear.”

diluc rolls his eyes, a faint glow over his cheeks under the moonlight. “that’s not true. and... and i... i’m simply enjoying myself.”

you whistle. “mondstadt’s very own winery tycoon discovers the joys of teasing his lover in the dead of night. riveting.”

diluc sighs in exasperation, throwing his hands up. “can you not? you always tease me.”

“you’re so easy to tease.” you bite down your lips. it doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, his impulse fighting to take over the control he exerts.

he caves, leaning in to press a chaste kiss against your mouth. his lips linger; one kiss, two kisses, till he has you pressed against his chest, his arms secure around your waist.

you pull away, before placing a quick kiss to his nose. none of the other kisses have the effect as this one, for his ears nearly spark with the rush of heat to his face.

“are you growing a stubble?” you bite down a teasing smile. “i don’t want my chin all itchy every time we kiss.”

he grimaces. “no. i’ll shave tomorrow. it makes me look too much like my father.”

you purse your lips. it’s the same quiet of winter as the one you met him in. he was a talented boy, and you, the bane of his existence. since then, many winters have passed, some cozy, some silly, and some lonely and grieving. the winery has dimmed (even diluc), but everything is always bright in your wide eyes, from the lush grapevines to the sunset-haired man. you’re both aware you cannot win against time. and so, just like him, you keep every postcard. 

“diluc,” you call, hesitant. “it’s not a bad thing.”

“i know,” he responds curtly. 

you never learned what to say. diluc never wants you to.

he holds your wrist, lifting it up to place your palm against his cheek again. it’s quiet. he breaks eye contact.

“i have regrets, (name). and they’re all because of... my ego.”

“diluc-”

when it rains, it pours.

“if only i were... if only i were a better man... if i were less cruel,” he whispers, remorse coating his tongue like ash. 

you smooth your thumb over his cheek, till he sighs. diluc meets your eyes with the glow of embers, soft and a little lost, maybe. 

“you’re a good man to me,” you say finally. “i think that’s a good start.”

diluc sighs again, snapping himself out of his daze. “and you’re too good to me.”

“who else will buy me sickly sweet flowers and get me the best dandelion wine in mondstadt?”

diluc rolls his eyes, taking your wrists once again to plant a kiss each against them.

“thank you, (name),” he says, a smile finally sprouting on his warm lips.

“of course, diluc,” you mumble. “you mean so much to me... anyway, shall we bake tomorrow? surely you can leave the abyss alone for the weekend.”

diluc blinks. “actually...”

your smile drops and he gulps, swallowing his words.

“yes,” he answers. “my schedule is clear tomorrow. but i’m... i’m not quite proficient with baking, my love.”

“that’s alright.” you wave your hand dismissively before going off on a tangent, on a path of words diluc’s quite familiar with. snapdragon flowers, dandelion seeds, sweet flower jam—you certainly have a wide knowledge of all of these. he’s seen you collect them for hours on end, your odd little baking experiments giving adelinde a heart attack. you’ve always been this way. after all these years, the winery thinks of you as fondly as he does.

diluc tucks your hair behind your ears, running his fingers through your hair once you’re snuggled up in bed again. you’re still mumbling about narrowing down which recipe to try tomorrow morning in a sleep-laced haze. diluc can’t get enough of it.

“you mean so much to me too,” he whispers.

✽ xiao is a warrior first and foremost, and everyone knows warriors can never sleep at night. for xiao, it’s a special case. his war is not a war people can thank him for, nor does he see an end to it. it is invisible to most, and his battle scars are the only monument to his acts of deliverance. but you... you, with your curious eyes and fickle fingers, always running your mouth about his tattoos and breaks in his schedule—is he supposed to open up so easily? is he supposed to sigh in relief at your animated explanations or get so drowsy on sunlit afternoons when you’re around? is he supposed to desperately want to hold you? perhaps he is, for his eyes always seek your figure, hands itching to drop his spear and take your hands instead. if he asks for forgiveness for all that he is, would you smile at him and pretend he is as human as you? no, he’s known you for months. you’d do something outrageously stupid—and it’d be the medicine to all his ailments.

“how is it my fault?” he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“of course it’s your fault!” you huff. 

“i never prevented your... afternoon naps.”

“but you wouldn’t nap with me!” you throw your hands up, reasoning as though it’s common sense for him to know. “do you know how cold it was? i nearly shivered myself off the cliff!”

xiao feels a rush of blood to his cheeks, coughing to hide the hot discomfort.

“and now you refuse to sleep in my nice, warm bed, which i made very specifically for you. not that you care but it’s very comfortable. ahh, it’s good to be home once in a while.”

why are you advertising your bed to him? it’s not like he’s going to buy it. he doesn’t have mora anyway, nor will he ever need to carry it.

“i don’t need to sleep,” he states, re-emphasizing his point. “i am a yaksha.”

“i don’t care,” you grumble, sleeplessness clearly clawing at your brain. “you swore an oath to me.”

xiao blinks. “this was... this was not the oath. i said i’d come to you when you need me if you—”

“—call your name,” you interrupt, tapping your feet impatiently. “xiao. xiao. conqueror of demons. my dearly beloved. xiao. i need your help.”

xiao’s not sure when the terms of the contract spiraled into something like this. you are partners; a dashing young adventurer and a cynical yaksha who are already unlikely to be friends. since when have you grown so close to him? in fact, if he were to lean in...

absolutely not.

xiao straightens. he didn’t realize the physical proximity at first. 

“are you... teasing me?” he nearly spits poison with that question. though, you’d savor that poison like sweet wildberries.

“is it so strange to sleep beside me?” you take a step back, chewing on your lip. some things do deter you. despite being a hardy adventurer.

it’s already strange enough for me to sleep, he wants to say.

“will it make your night easier?” he asks quietly.

you brighten visibly. the moonlight pales when you look like that.

“alright,” he answers, staring at your brisk nodding. 

he sits hesitantly at the corner of your bed, looking up at you with innocuous eyes. you stand in front of him, lacking your usual movement like you’re still processing everything. for a moment, you look flustered. but it’s not like xiao can tell. on your face, everything looks sweet.

“i...i- uh...” you stutter. “i didn’t think i’d get this far.”

xiao raises an eyebrow.

“a-anyway. scoot. this is my favorite side.”

“you... humans have favorite sides?”

“well, some of us do. some of us don’t care. i happen to have one though so you’ll have to deal with it, mr yaksha.”

it’s not like he hasn’t dealt with worse. he drags his legs onto the bed and shifts awkwardly till he’s made space for you.

you jump into bed with the energy of a vishap hatchling, and the thought is so ridiculous he suppresses a smile. 

at first, there is peace. then you inch closer, like slower movement would fool his trained senses. he’s warned you before. karmic debt is not a trifling matter—and your weak skin and bones cannot withstand it. 

time has proved, however, that you are not as weak to him as he is to you.

“does it hurt?” you ask.

“hm?” he turns his head, caught off-guard.

“y’know...” you continue. “your fights. i’ve seen some nasty injuries. do they hurt?”

you’ve never asked him about his past. he’s numb to it now, but you never poke your head there. even if you’ve poked it nearly everywhere it shouldn’t be.

“not quite.”

not now.

perhaps baizhu has been going about the wrong way making medicine for him. or perhaps, you are an ingredient undiscovered by the medical world. 

“good.” you grin, and his heart flakes on him. all this from a smile? the conqueror of demons folding like a crumpled piece of paper? but it’s you, after all. he should know better. “if i hurt you, let me know.”

xiao chokes a little, words spawning and dying just as rapidly in his throat. what can he possibly say to you?

“maybe i won’t have nightmares anymore now,” you mumble, snuggling closer to his arm. it must be uncomfortable, xiao thinks. his arm, bone and muscle, was not made to be rested upon.

but you cling so dearly.

“you’ve been having nightmares?” he asks. he never asks you about your nights. at least directly. acute observation gets him most answers and you are not a difficult person to read. so your declaration truly leaves him puzzled.

you don’t answer immediately.

“(name)?”

“yeah. they make me uncomfortable. but nothing like a little fear to keep me on my toes, right?”

xiao gets what you’re saying, but he doesn’t necessarily approve of it. he’s not the kind to poke his nose into someone else’s business, but at this proximity your fresh, earthy smell mingles so perfectly into his own. is it still someone else’s business if you breathe as one, every exhale tangling into each others’?

“i could eat them.”

you pause to blink before snickering loudly, clutching your stomach. silence follows.

“wait, you’re serious?”

“yes.”

“of course. i should’ve known. uh... i don’t think you need to do that.”

“they don’t hurt me too much.”

“so they do hurt you?”

“...”

xiao purses his lips, trying not to meet your focused gaze. unfortunately, it lands on your sweet, plump lips. he immediately jerks his head to the side.

“i already told you,” you continue, paying no heed. “no more nightmares for me now.”

“you can’t be sure of that.”

“it’s scientifically backed,” you press, voice dropping to a comforting whisper, “that you fall asleep faster, and sleep much better with a loved one.”

does he constitute a loved one? xiao parts his lips and closes them.

“look at me.”

xiao can’t. he’s all too aware of the physical proximity, all too aware of your fingers drawing circles on his arms. you will not ask, he knows. but neither will he.

and sometimes you don’t need to.

you draw nearer to land a kiss on his cheek. it’s not a demanding touch, light as feather, in fact. but xiao feels blood rush to his head like never before.

“you- i- i think that- you look cute,” you manage to say out loud, not quite what you mean. “so... um... can you please look at me?”

xiao turns his head finally, to meet an expression he has never seen before. lips pursed, eyes flitting nervously, and chest heaving slow and unsteady. he’s seen this among mortals. never in you. 

and it’s strange to admit just how accustomed he’s become to mortal life.

xiao’s breath ghosts over your lips, hesitation still clawing at his throat. being a decisive fighter does not make him very decisive in other regards.

so, you do it for him. pressing your warm lips to his, you sigh just as he does, like the night is finally warm again. though his beating heart says otherwise, he feels so at peace for once that drowsiness settles on his eyelids and he draws even closer to you. relief is not a feeling he is accustomed to.

you pull away to place your head against his chest, squeezing his torso in a hug. he knows it’s a way of showing comfort. but he can’t possibly describe what he feels from that. can you do it again?

“will you come sleep here tomorrow night too?” a small smile plays on your lips when you face him.

“i suppose,” he answers.

“and the next?”

“mhm.”

“...and the next?”

xiao cannot help his smile.

“i swore an oath, did i not?”

✽ kaveh is too impatient to stay still in bed when he can’t sleep. he’d rather take advantage of his insomnia to work on the bubbles of inspiration that rise and fizz out as quickly as they come. but every time he’s lying beside you, he can’t bring himself to pry your arms away from his torso. it’d be sacrilege to wake you up, not when you look so quiet and peaceful, away from a world of dry commotions. and on nights you can’t sleep, he refuses to go to bed too. it is imperative to his sleep that you doze off beside him. he doesn’t need incessant proofs of his passion, and he doesn’t need the akademiya’s validation. all he wants is a life as soft and precious as you, like dew on padisarah in the early mornings he sleeps through. oh, all the things he would give up to have you sleeping soundly by his side this night, and the next, and the next. it aches to have you away.

“i can’t sleep, kaveh,” you mutter, annoyed.

“i know,” he responds, lips upturned. “this is the fifth time you’ve said it in the past twenty minutes.”

“you’re exaggerating,” you huff, tugging closer to his chest anyway. “i should not have stayed past six at puspa cafe.”

“ah. so whose fault is it that you can’t sleep?”

you scowl. “i thought the coffee wouldn’t have an effect on me. it wasn’t that strong.”

kaveh quietens, and for a moment, you worry he’s fallen asleep.

“shall we take a walk then? when i watch the city sleep, i want to fall asleep too.”

you pause before sitting up and following his lead, hand in weary hand. you make sure to be as quiet as mice, so as to not wake up kaveh’s sleeping roommate. usually, your boyfriend wouldn’t care. but it seems your considerate nature has taken a toll on him.

the smell of spices still wafts through the streets long after everyone has closed shop. the dogs have followed their owners home, and the strays are curled up by alleys and corners in a huddle of warmth. at least where you’re at, the two of you are the only souls treading the pavement, save for a few stragglers, cats prowling and students celebrating the end of finals. you can almost feel their relief, laughing with kaveh as you notice a young scholar holler in joy with his friends when an old lady immediately shuts them down to be quiet. 

“what was that about the city sleeping?” you hum, elbowing him.

“and you really thought you were immune to caffeine?” kaveh retorts, amusement playing on his lips.

“shut up.” you lightly punch his arm, which he, of course, reacts to overdramatically. to him, that’s the cutest ‘shut up’ he’s ever heard.

a fresh breeze passes by the two of you, making him step closer, shoulders touching and fingers intertwined.

“lately,” he starts, ruby eyes lost in contemplation, “my team’s been researching the lost paradise of king deshret. they say he made a contract with the god of time to build an eternal oasis, all the wonders of the land frozen in a beautiful frame for the goddess of flowers. isn’t that lovely?”

“what’s so lovely about building a cemetery for someone you love?”

kaveh sighs. but when he opens his mouth, there is no answer. you hide a small smile as he thinks.

“well, it was to honor her passing... but you’re right. i’d rather honor the living.”

“well, king deshret also went mad. good to see you’re still sane.”

kaveh turns red. “i’m not joking! you see the beauty in all this, don’t you?”

a smile tugs your lips as you reach out to grab his face. “yes, of course. but more so in your face. and your hands. and your mouth. and your stupid little head with all its wild imaginations.”

“you tease me too much,” he huffs when you’re done planting rapid kisses to his face. his expression is something between a scowl and pout, hands comfortably over yours as they rest against his cheeks.

“do you dislike it?”

“i’m not answering that.”

your laughter is full of heart, and kaveh can’t help but join in, throwing his head back as he does.

saturday evenings are quiet at the center of the city; but the further you branch out towards the hubs, there are lively crowds waiting to greet you. your next destination is lambad’s tavern, stopping to grab a cup of water and converse with kaveh’s old classmates from the akademiya. it must be a ksharehwar thing to seemingly never sleep. 

kaveh’s so-called remedy to sleeplessness ends up turning into a catch-up session, sleep tossed out of the window. the warm glow of the tavern, however, makes you miss his bed more. perhaps his trick did work, in a strange, twisted way. but still, you don’t appreciate the long way around.

it takes a while before you can finally walk out the doors of the tavern—and the night simmers down again when you find him. looks like your boyfriend has made friends with the wood, as he rests his head on one of the outdoor tables of the tavern, all by himself. you feel a sting of guilt for holding him back from his sleep. it’s not easy, working day to day on as little sleep as he does. 

“kaveh,” you call.

he meets you with a dazed smile, clumsy and unsteady in the way he moves.

“did you drink when i wasn’t looking?” you ask, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

he frowns immediately at your accusation, shoulders sagging. “can’t i be this way because of you?”

“well, it’s usually your drunken stupor.”

he huffs. “you’ll never know what you do to me if you keep your so-called logic wrapped so tight around your throat.”

“why? is there something else you’d rather have wr—”

“ahem.” kaveh flushes so deep, he’d put zaytun peaches to shame with that hue. “what i mean is. you don’t know the effect you have on me. it might as well be intoxication.”

you press your knuckle to your nose, trying to hide your smile. kaveh is quick to catch on, his grin widening.

“no, it must be intoxication,” he presses, moving closer to you with eyebrows furrowed. “i even get along with alhaitham these days. can you imagine?”

you giggle. “how frightening.”

kaveh leans in, his eyes shining prettier in the moonlight. if only you knew they open to reflect you. his expression eases and a smile blossoms.

“you make me see love everywhere,” he whispers, lips hesitantly hovering over yours. “and it is wonderful to feel that way. thank you.”

“oh gosh, you’re so... you say sickliest sweet things. it’s disgusting.”

before he can retort, you tug on the strawberry blond strands, pressing your lips to his. he does not let you pull away, his arm snug around your waist. with kaveh, the butterflies never die, natural when his lips taste of honey.

“for the record,” he slurs, drunk off your kiss more than any alcohol. “i would build you more than paradise. i would start laying the bricks for heaven if you asked.”

and you’d make sure he sleeps soundly instead each night he forces himself to work. he’s too sweet for his own good. in the city of wisdom, everyone knows the cost of love without labor. but your attempts to ensure his rest is your labor.

you laugh, patting his cheek. “how about you start laying the bricks to a house of your own?”

an instant pout tugs at his swollen lips. 

“oh, don’t get mad.” you cups his cheeks and pull his face to your level, pressing a feather kiss to his forehead. “i know times are hard for dreamers like you.”

“you make me sound so silly.”

“i’m sorry.” you caress your thumb over his cheek, worried you’ve overstepped in your teasing.

“no.” he smiles sheepishly. “i don’t mind being your silly boyfriend. if it makes you smile, at the very least.”

“you silly man.”

“you’re smiling.”

“is the victory satisfying?”

“sort of...” his voice drops to a cheeky whisper as he leans in close to your ear. “but the rest of the night can be... more so.”

“kaveh. we’re in public!”

“what, it’s not like it’s a secret. alhaitham and our poor neighbors are the first victims if you suddenly want to be considerate of that.”

“oh my god.”

“c’mon. kiss me. there’s no one else outside.”

“if there’s anyone who appreciates a room, it should be you.”

“mhm. yes. a bedroom, more so right now.”

you smack your hand over his mouth, unable to hold back your laughter at the flabbergasted look on his face. it slowly morphs into annoyance, and then acceptance. 

“don’t be upset,” you say, placing a light kiss on his nose. 

you know just the way to sedate him. kaveh should have you arrested for whatever violations you’re committing against him. there must be laws against the fevers you raise on his skin. right?

“shall we go home?” you smile with sleepy eyes.

and his heart melts. there’s nothing more he wants than a home with you. 

“lead the way, my love.” he grins wide, and suddenly, the marble and the cobblestones melt away, your hand over his the only stronghold left. it is not loud enough yet to leave his mouth, but the answer to the architect’s greatest dilemma—is you. 

[yoimix]

alhaitham (your bbygirl), ayato (previous bbygirl), itto (derogatory)

SIDE EYE SIDE EYEEEEE

first of all, ayato is my only bbygirl. second of all, you should've sent your bbygirl trio smh 🙄

anyway here's my hc for your bbygirl trio instead bc i suddenly cant see hope u like it #ibsally

kaeya - his ew voiceline (from when you try to give him food he doesn't like)

scara - he jokes that it's another adventure you're going on 🥺 jk he leaves you immediately 

dainsleif - the only ibs ally, he carries around tums for you ❤️ but if you shart yourself in public it's on you he'll send you to a hospital .

bonus (me playing w chatgpt instead of doing my coding assignments <3):

[yoimix]

can i request a hc where the genshin men react to y/n having ibs and then accidentally sharting 🥺

ya sure bbygril which men do you want 😍😍😍

[yoimix]

「 cardigan 」

[ note: follows the the 3.3 interlude archon quest plotline ]

when you met him, he already bore too many sins. SCARAMOUCHE, sixth of the fatui harbingers, the balladeer, kunikuzushi. to mend a broken heart, you must break as many as you can. 

tough luck for him, yours is as hard as diamond. and sometimes, a glimmer of it ripples across his skin too. you know things he cannot fathom, he knows things he cannot reveal to you. even so, he’d set half the world on fire if it meant you’d keep looking at him. after all, his eyes only ever reflect your joys and sorrows.

i.

“happy from just the sunlight?” he scoffs. “that’s so childish.”

you chuckle. “what’s something that makes you childishly happy then?”

he purses his lips. there is no answer to that he could come up with. only you’re there to witness those moments. 

ii.

“you know i don’t get along with anyone else,” he mutters.

“hm? you get along with me.”

his eyes soften. “right. what do i care?”

denial coats his skin like a blush. he’s already yours. 

iii.

“hey, what if... what if i had a heart?” he whispers, a forlorn gaze lingering over your figure. “how would i fill that hole?”

despite being battered and bruised, despite his voice barely still there, his bloodstained lips call your name over and over. you hold him closer, arms around his neck. his fingers hover over his chest as though he could will a heart into being. 

your lips stretch into a small, tired smile. “haven’t you filled it already?”

“the only thing i could possibly think of filling it with,” he refuses to meet your gaze. “is you.”

he breathes in a steady rhythm till he can no longer tolerate it.

“will you take me as i am? so full of sin?”

“over anyone and anything else.”

his lips press against yours anyway, a feeling he can come by only once in twenty lifetimes. 

iv.

“do you... do you know me?”

like clockwork, you take steps towards him. reaching out, you place a hand against his heart and his breath hitches in his throat.

“of course.” you smile, eyes brimming with tears. you’re not sure why. but you’re certain you know him. 

“how ridiculous.” he reaches out involuntarily, his thumb wiping away your tears. how ridiculous, indeed. you don’t usually make a fool of yourself in front of strangers.

“can we be friends again?” you ask, a small smile on your lips. his heart stops the way it used to. “if friends is what we were.”

“yes.” there you go again, putting him in a trance. 

one day, he’ll learn to fall asleep without you around. until that day, he will keep reaching for your hand.

[yoimix]

genshin men + dressing (their) wounds 

ft. childe, xiao, kaeya

[ tw: violence, language ]

✽ childe is no stranger to blood, not when he’s covered in it half the time he visits you. either his body has an unending production of blood or he’s committed murder on a catastrophic scale. to be honest, you’re not quite sure childe is human at times. the exasperation he instills in you is certainly not humanly possible. you’re not sure how you crossed fate so horribly that you were sent this infuriating manchild for a friend, walking around your living room like he owns it. you’ve said this before and you’ll say it again, “if i smell blood in my house again, i swear i’ll let you rot outside” and always his reply will be, “well, what perfume would you like me to buy?” you tell yourself he’s a complete jerk and redemption would require divine interception. yet, you let him in every goddamn time. you don’t know what part of you it is that believes in him so strongly. 

“please, (name), i promise i didn’t lose that much blood this time,” childe whines outside your door.

you make no notion of unlocking the door. “then you can take care of yourself!”

“oh come on, where else can i go?”

“the fucking hospital? i’m not even trained medical personnel.”

“aw, but you can cure me no matter what.”

there’s dead silence following that. childe knocks frantically at your door.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry i said that! please let me in, it’s getting colder.”

you sigh. there it is again. some part of you always gives in and the rest of you collapses. you must be cursed.

you slowly pull the latch, and open the door to the tall figure of none other than the eleventh harbinger.

the filthy liar. this is far more blood than ever before. you can’t even locate the source but you notice the deep red along his side and leg. childe offers you a bright, almost child-like grin. you look at him horrified.

it only lasts for a moment before he collapses forward into you, nearly knocking the wind out of you. you swear this man is a walking medical emergency. well, not quite walking now.

childe is heavier than you expected, and it takes you a few minutes and a whole lot of effort to get him to the couch. long enough for him to regain consciousness, while you bring in your first aid kit. you hate stitching.

“i’m so glad i got here on time,” he groans, trying to sit up.

“no! no, lie back down. we have to stop the blood flow.”

“oh, good idea.”

“are you an idiot?”

childe pouts, obeying your commands without further argument. he must be really injured.

“okay. now take off your shirt.” you pull out the stitches and bandages from the kit.

“woah.” childe’s eyes widen. “at least take me on a date first.”

“now’s not the time!” you yell. does he have no situational awareness? archons, he needs not only medical help but something for his loose screws.

cleaning the wounds are easier said than done. there’s a gaping hole at his side, though no organs were irreparably damaged and the gash on his leg is shallow but it’s still at the risk of infection.

“you’ve made a mess, ajax,” you mumble, getting worried. sure, you’ve stitched injuries like this back when you were with the fatui soldiers. but it’s been a while. leave it to childe to give you enough stress to last a month.

“this might sting.”

“more than the alcohol? you know i really prefer alcohol in drin—“

he hisses at the first prick, clenching his teeth in pain but he makes no other sound. he’s been through worse, you tell yourself. you try your best to fight the sympathy you feel.

“you can take it, big boy,” you mutter, focusing on stitching his the wound shut. “don’t look.”

“i’m really not,” he says through clenched teeth.

when the stitches are done, you can finally exhale a sigh of relief. childe rests his head on the headrest of your couch, looking glassily at the ceiling. 

“ajax?” you spring up, worried. “are you okay?”

you lean over to have a closer look. there’s no way this would kill him. he’s your ajax, after all. 

“ajax!” you call again, panicking as you smack his cheek lightly.

“huh?” he blinks, finally lifting his head. “oh, zoned out for a bit there. it numbed the pain though.”

“oh my fucking god, you’re the worst,” you exhale loudly. you can’t admit out loud the relief flooding your heart. teyvat could crumble into the abyss and you’d still choose for him to be safe and sound. so that’s what it is.

you’re in love with an idiot.

“next time, go to a hospital, ajax.” you breathe heavily, still trying to catch up. 

“you could kiss me better and it’d still be more efficient than the stupid hospital.” he rolls his eyes. you ignore the tiny ripple in your heart.

“or, i beat you till you’re bedridden and aren’t at my house at midnight five fucking times a week.”

“mhm, just say you want to kiss me.”

you hold yourself back from pouncing onto the man and worsening his injuries. sucking your teeth, you put the bandage roll back in, shutting the drawer rather aggressively.

“woah, cupcake, what did the drawer ever do to you?”

“i’m about to do the same to you if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

“ooh, slam me against a wall and- oof.”

the flick to the forehead was well deserved. he heaves out a sigh before shaking his head and looking at you with raised brows.

“well, someone’s gotten stronger since we last sparred,” he whistles. “your finger strength is no joke. shall we have an arm wrestling match?”

“i will literally break your arm.”

“my, isn’t that exciting?”

you hold back the urge to scream. you do not have enough sleep in your system to deal with this. “recover, ajax.”

“but what’s the point? if i’m all healthy and spry, you don’t spare a glance at me.”

you knit your brows together. “what?”

he shrugs. “right now, you’re looking at me and god, i love your eyes on me, but morning comes and you turn away.”

“i don’t understand, ajax.”

“you don’t spar with me like you used to, you don’t write to me, you don’t even keep your old insignia.” childe gulps, a somber look in his eyes as he fidgets with his fingers. “it’s like you didn’t care about how i felt at all.”

“you—what?”

“i loved you, (name),” he whispers, meeting your gaze with solemn grief. you’re certain you’ve only seen that look years ago, when he was finally found after reported missing. it unnerves you.

“you... loved me?” you try to process his words.

“i still do,” he adds, with a small smile. “so please keep patching me up. please keep looking at me.”

“oh, ajax,” you choke over your words. “i didn’t leave because i didn’t care about you. in fact, you’re the one i- you’re the only one who could’ve convinced me to stay.”

childe’s eyes widen. you nudge closer, avoiding his gaze.

“i’m sorry, ajax. the fatui life wasn’t for me but i should’ve left you an explanation.”

“so you don’t hate me?” childe’s eyes almost spark again.

“now, that’s taking it too far,” you joke, and childe laughs softly. he moves as gently as he can, like a lion cub play-hunting, and lands a kiss against your cheek, your jaw and the corner of your lips. as though waiting for permission, his lips hover over yours.

you close the distance, with a kiss as delicate as fresh snow.

“this injury thing really sucks,” childe complains, pulling back with a grimace.

“you realize that now?!” 

“woah, babe, no need to yell. i’m not going to fight a couple ruin guards at once again.”

“you did what?!” your tone gets even louder, nearing a shriek.

childe looks at you, perplexed. “what? i wasn’t aiming for this! just a few gashes so you’d fix me. i won’t do it again.”

“what the actual fuck, ajax? that’s it. you’re not leaving the house for a month. no, two months.” you frown at the man beside you, who looks the least bothered. in fact, he’s got a feline curve to his smile.

“so... do i still get get-well kisses?”

the audacity.

“...yes.”

✽ xiao can only whisper your name after fights, when he’s at your window like a cat that keeps coming back to the kind stranger that fed him. a gash on his chest, blood on his chin and cheeks—it doesn’t matter. even if you’ve never patched up an adeptus before, it is as your training goes. one thread, stitch by stitch. “it doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t hurt” he repeats as he collapses into your arms. he’s not one to take you for granted but you’re not one to give up. xiao’s skin is warm and his face is beautiful even when he’s in this state. it makes you wonder what it means to be an adeptus, though you’d dare not question. to you, xiao is just a boy you met by the crystal sea on a clear night that you refused to leave hurt. even if the hurt was a little scratch on the bridge of his nose. after all, your painted flower bandaids matched his hair all too well.

“you don’t- you don’t... have to,” xiao still manages to say, leaning against the headrest of your bed while you scurry around to bring your supplies.

“you came here, xiao.” you click your tongue. 

xiao looks down at his hands, covered in dry red. “i wasn’t thinking.”

you bring everything to your bedside table, hands shaking despite everything. you’ve done this so many times. taking a deep breath, you press the back of your hand against xiao’s forehead before flinching away. for a moment, xiao looks almost hurt.

“you’re burning up,” you gasp. “oh, mr zhongli left medicine for that. let me fetch that after you’ve stopped bleeding.”

you always blab when you’re working on a patient. whether it’s to ease their nerves or yours, you can’t say. you just know that you talk and xiao listens.

“and that’s how i stitched the hole in my foot after the whole sharp rock mess. ugh. it was horrible but hey, experience is experience.”

when you don’t get his usual hum of a response, you look up to find xiao dozed off. it’s strange, how it makes you feel. on one hand, your heart flutters at the thought of him being comfortable enough to fall asleep in your bedroom. on the other hand, you want to scream at him for coming to your house so injured. you nearly got a heart attack. this can’t be payback for you calling him at random times, can it? he appears at your call every time no matter what, even if if you called him to share ice cream with you. 

you sigh, brushing the hair out of his face. he looks so peaceful. if you can take away his pain for even a second, you’d rush to it.

“i don’t call you to annoy you, you know?” you say quietly, soft breaths departing your lips. “i just want you to be with me longer.”

his breathing stays steady, dreamless yet. you lean down to land a peck on his forehead, giggling as you pull away. he’s too cute. you think you’re the one who deserves a forehead kiss after all that hard work but you’ll let it slide. you lose yourself in daydreams so easily. just for a moment, you close your eyes.

xiao’s sudden coughing makes you startle, and you turn to him but he doesn’t face you.

“i... i breathed in too sharply,” he confesses, unable to meet your gaze. under the moonlight, you can see clearly the silken scarlet over his cheeks and ears.

“oh, you were awake,” you ponder aloud, feeling a bit embarrassed yourself. “it’s just part of the treatment process. good patients get forehead kisses.”

“you... kiss all your patients?” xiao slowly turns to you.

you scratch the base of your neck. “eh, not really. you’re just... too tempting.”

you can almost see the blood rushing to his face; you’re not sure if it’s out of embarrassment or indignation.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“oh, i don’t mean it in a bad way! well, this isn’t the best time for you to realize.”

xiao purses his lips. “you know i’ll hurt you.”

you raise your arms in defense. “i’m still unhurt, aren’t i?”

he clenches his jaw, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “it’s a slow death. you won’t know till you’re in the jaws.”

“i’ve lived a lot of deaths, xiao. i’m a doctor.”

“i can’t just have you ta—i can’t do this to you. i’m sorry i- i don’t know what comes over me.”

“what, when you’re getting yourself killed?”

“i always come running to you,” he mumbles, meeting your eyes. is it guilt? “it’s unfair.”

you grin wide. “you have a home here, xiao. even if you don’t pay rent.”

“what’s rent?”

you shake your head, a quick sigh leaving your lips. unable to help your self, you cup his cheeks, squishing them. there’s a solid chance no one in the history of teyvat has done this to xiao. 

“you better keep that cute face looking fresh. the day you die is the day i go out of business. do you know how many sick and injured i get every day in liyue harbor? even baizhu wouldn’t be able to keep up.”

xiao looks up at you soundlessly, eyes wide. almost like a deer caught in headlights. he moves his mouth but no sound comes.

“well, alright.” you let go. “i’ll reapply the ointment tomorrow morning so you can’t run away. and you need to take the packs of medicine mr zhongli keeps sending! i’m running out of storage.”

looks like the cat got his tongue. you don’t mind stunning him into stupor but his eyes on you make your stomach flutter.

“anyway, good night, xi—”

you’re pulled by the wrists towards xiao now sitting up. a pair of warm lips press against your forehead.

“thank you,” his whisper is hoarse. 

you look up to meet a small smile. you never realized how you yearned for it.

“of course, xiao.”

✽ kaeya would climb inside his grave himself before lets you know of his injuries. he’d much rather make sure you’re okay from the shadows, and he can’t really do that if you’re fussing over ever little gash and bruise. seriously, he didn’t ask for a nagging mother. despite being friends for quite some while, he tries his best to keep you at arm’s length. none of his misdeeds should catch up to you. enemies always start out friends, brothers even. if he were wiser, he would’ve stopped you the moment you held his hand and made him promise he’d stay safe. he regrets you—except when the soft touch of your palms press against his skin with unbound concern. this is cruel. no mater how elusive he can be, you always find him. dragged against his will to the favonius infirmary, he’s met with a constant glare from you as you grab the rubbing alcohol and cotton pads.

“it’s just a few scratches,” kaeya tries to appeal.

you see right through him. “if you move an inch from this spot, kaeya, i’ll make sure jean assigns soldiers to reporting your whereabouts. at all times.”

he grimaces at the thought. “no thanks. i’m great right where i am.”

“good.”

you dab the long gash along his bicep, trying not peek beyond his shoulder at his exposed chest. you’re not like one of those ladies swooning over cavalry captain kaeya. no, you have it so much worse. you can’t even begin to explain the stress this man gives you when he returns with bruises and cuts like they mean nothing to him. your trust must be lawless to him, as he saunters into trouble left and right.

“you’re done,” you announce loudly, a little pissed by now. helping him slip his arm into the sleeve, you huff. 

“gosh, i’d expect the cavalry captain to be more careful.” you cross your arms. “wasn’t it an infiltration job?”

“unfortunately, confrontation is required sometimes, dear.”

“oh, must be mortifying for you.”

kaeya rolls his eyes. “it was a job well done. if only someone would stop fussing over every little boo-boo.”

you glare at him. “if only someone would stop trying to get himself killed.”

“ah, how are they supposed to make me martyr then?”

“that’s not funny, kaeya.” you point a finger at him threateningly.

“sorry.” he raises his hands in defeat.

you shake your head, still annoyed at his nonchalance. you go back to buttoning the rest of his shirt. you swear you’re not looking. “archons, i can’t believe you got knocked on your ass by that little fatui guy.”

“combat was never my forte,” he mutters, chuckling. “it was all diluc back then. i wanted to be like him because i thought he was cool.”

“well, you’re not diluc.” you fix his collar. “but you’re still cool, if that’s any consolation.”

“oh? you don’t seem like the type attracted to the cold.” 

you roll your eyes at his shit-eating grin.

“attracted is a strong word. i just tolerate it. the cold.”

“tolerate it by dragging it indoors against its will? and then spend over an hour making sure it’s okay?” 

“ugh! what is your problem? i’m just looking out for you,” you huff, crossing your arms.

“by walking into danger?” kaeya raises his voice. “i told you to not follow me to the fatui camp! do you know what could’ve happened, (name)?”

“that’s your problem, kaeya,” you snap. “you assume i can’t take care of myself.”

“and your problem is that you never assume things can go very wrong very fast.” kaeya clenches his jaw, eyes trained on yours. 

you scoff. “guess we’re made for each other, huh?” 

“that we are,” he mutters.

an uncomfortable silence follows.

“i’m sorry,” kaeya speaks up first. “i didn’t mean to undermine you. i just... i want to look out for you the way you always do for me.”

“you do plenty already,” you mumble, looking down at your feet.

“hey.” kaeya hooks his finger under your chin to make you meet his eyes. “i really am sorry. i... you’re more important to me than you realize.”

he gulps, nerves on edge. he always comes so close to confessing, but it is never his intention.

“oh, for the love of god,” you heave. does he really not know the effect he has on you? when his touch, his gaze and this proximity are all driving you insane?

“excuse me?” he raises an eyebrow.

“don’t say things like that unless you want me to- to- ugh!”

you get on your tiptoes to reach his lips, yours barely ghosting over his. acting on impulse is right up your alley.

he flinches at the contact, pulling back. “lip’s still busted.”

“sorry,” you respond quickly, embarrassment flooding your face.

kaeya instantly bursts into laughter. “you really thought a busted lip would stop me? after all this time holding back? i hope you like the taste of blood, darling.”

your face heats up. “huh?”

kaeya pulls you closer by the waist, his other hand cupping your cheek like porcelain when he presses his lips against yours. and when he deepens the kiss, you do taste blood but neither of you pull back till you’re out of breath.

kaeya whistles. “never thought you’d be out here committing inappropriate workplace behavior.”

“you- you kissed me!” you sputter, heating up at his teasing look.

“ah, but who kissed me first?”

“kaeya,” you whine. “fine. have this victory. i’m leaving. you have fun alone with medical supplies.”

kaeya nearly falls off the bed trying to grab your arm and pulling you back. you glare him, even when nestled between his arms.

“hey, hey.” he pouts. “who said i’m reporting this to jean? i play nice.”

kaeya leans in, a smile brighter than the summer ocean. you’re so distracted, you can barely react to his kisses. 

“okay, enough. if you kiss me aga—mmpf—kaeya, i swear—mm—stop kissing me! i’ve had enough of the blood!”

kaeya’s frown deepens though he tries not show it. “so what? i’m supposed to tell the enemy to spare my face next time?”

“yes. and this means you’re also focusing on recovery full time.”

kaeya’s mouth hangs slightly agape. “you can’t deprive me like this.”

“you can stay deprived a week or two. that should teach you not to fight senselessly and then have the audacity to avoid me.”

kaeya can only sigh. “alright. this victory’s yours now.”

you grin. “you get one last kiss for admitting that.”

kaeya’s eye lights up immediately, and you nearly melt. you cup his face, and press your lips to his, telling yourself it’s the last. (no, you didn’t give him three extra kisses just because he looked cute with his messy hair and bright lovesick smile.)

[yoimix]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭 | 𝐜𝐲𝐧𝐨

series: yoimix christmas event !! (๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)

pairing: cyno x reader

synopsis: sore losers don’t get to play the game anymore. cyno knows this and yet, he can’t help but sulk in your winning glow—it’s always christmas with you around, isn’t it?

prompt: holiday game night + summer christmas

genre: fluff, boyfriend au

wc: 1.4k

warnings: language, suggestive, cyno is so lovesick

a/n: miss steph @aequariem​ im so sorry for delaying this 😩 i hope you had the best holiday season and may you be blessed with more victories (and the short sulky man) in tcg soon 💞

There are few moments in his life where Cyno really questions his decision-making.

When he goes a little too easy on the salt during cooking, or when he gives into your puppy eyes for takeout every Tuesday—if he thinks about it deeply, you’re almost always the root cause. As much as it pains him, you’re all the more endearing that way with your habits and demands. However, whatever misjudgement he carries out doesn’t extend to this. It’s not like him to fail when he’s playing Genius Invokation TCG. You. When did you get so much better at it?

“I win!” 

You clap your hands gleefully, beaten him at yet another match at the small Christmas party hosted by Nilou. He’s too straightlaced to win at bluff, and you’re too hotheaded to play poker. So, the two of you have taken to another sort of card game. Of course, with your cheerful yelling and his miserable expression, you made the game look a bit too exciting.

“So what’s my prize?” You tease, grinning ear to ear. That look only means trouble and Cyno is unprepared.

“I won’t ask for much—don’t look so glum.” You pout, before leaning in to whisper, “A kiss maybe? You haven’t kissed me all day.”

It’s too warm for him to be feeling this way. Yes, he’s dating you; and yes, you flutter his heart as though ripples on a pool. It’s effortless, and his breathing gets uneasy when left five minutes alone with you.

“Ugh.” Alhaitham scrunches up his face, earning a glare from the General Mahamatra himself.

Dehya elbows him immediately, shushing him. “They’re having a moment!”

“Well, they’re having too many moments for one night,” Alhaitham grumbles.

Kaveh stifles a laugh. “Just admit you’re lonely and miserable.”

“At least I’m not lonely and homeless.”

“Hey, now—”

The mirth of your laughter fills the warm Christmas air—after all, it never gets too cold in Sumeru. If Cyno is being honest, you’re the one who makes it feel like Christmas with your explosive joy and sparkling curiosity for all things wondrous. He stays up for hours by your side as you name the stars in the winter skies, joy unbound—he’s always wondered how you keep the flame in you alive. He’s drawn like a moth to it.

(“Acually, moths are drawn to bright light because it confuses their navigational system, so that’s a bit of rude comparison, isn’t it?” was your response to the phrase. 

To be very honest, you do confuse his navigational system sometimes.)

“Alright, anyone else who thinks they can beat me?” You flex your bicep in an exaggerated gesture.

“Do we get a kiss too?” Kaveh asks, and is promptly hit in the face by a pillow. The General Mahamatra’s right arm never misses.

“That was a joke! A joke!” Kaveh covers his nose, tears in his eyes. A pillow shouldn’t hurt so much. “Nilou, do you use bricks for the stuffing?”

“Yes, it keeps my back straight for my performances!” Nilou smiles innocently.

Kaveh is rendered speechless while the others hold back laughter.

“That was a joke, Kaveh,” she giggles, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I hate all of you.”

Cyno loves your laughter. It reminds him of holidays and sweet caramel pie kisses. The bells ringing in his ears stop abruptly as he reminds himself of his consecutive defeats. Oh, the shame. But Christmas Eve is no time to sulk. He bites his lower lip to keep from pouting like a schoolboy. General Mahamatra, reduced to a lovesick puppy at your hands. That should be the greater shame.

But is it really his fault when it’s you, with joy blooming at your fingertips?

“Well, if no one’s got enough balls to challenge me,” you announce, looping your arms under Cyno’s hoodie and around his waist. “I will be cuddling my boyfriend and being disgustingly romantic.”

Now, this puts Cyno in a predicament. He wants to play more with you, but for heaven’s sake, he can’t have your arms anywhere but around him. He clenches his jaw, a bit of a sulk brushed over his face.

You, on the other hand, try your hardest to suppress your smug smile. When it comes to flustering your dear, straightforward boyfriend, you’ve got a few cards up your sleeve. You’re not saying you cheated—of course not. But the visible conflict on his face is worth every dime of luck you were graced with for these games. 

As Kaveh likes to say, you’re menace to society. But really, you’re only a menace to Cyno.

“You’re warm,” you mumble, snuggling closer.

“Must be uncomfortable in the heat,” he hums a response. His fingers run through your hair in a rhythm akin to clockwork.

“Not at all.”

Cyno is used to being perplexed by you all the time. You never make sense. A few minutes pass by, as the two of you enjoy people watching (Kaveh is swearing at Alhaitham; Dehya only makes it worse). It’s your favorite activity, but your friends’ antics make it a sport.

“My arm is falling asleep.” Cyno grunts, trying to sit up straighter.

You click your tongue. “Shh. Let it sleep.”

“(Name), if only you weren’t leaning your whole body weight on only my left forearm.”

“Oh, do you want to be on top instead?”

Remind Cyno why he’s wearing the hoodie again? The heat rushing through his skin makes it hard to breathe for a second or two, as he tugs at his collar. You stitched two sunflowers onto it—and the one with devil horns is supposed to represent him. That cannot be right.

“Don’t- don’t say that out loud, (name).” He clears his throat. “Everyone might get the wrong idea.”

You make your mouth in an ‘o’ shape, lowering your voice. “Shall I say it in private then? When we’re—”

You might be the only one in Sumeru that can cause a severe coughing fit within the General Mahamatra. He’s dating the number one threat to his life. No assassin could come close.

A snort follows from a distance beside you, making you turn. Nilou sticks her tongue out as though at fault. “Whoops. Did not need to overhear that. I’ll go slice the tension between Kaveh and Alhaitham. The one between you two is…”

Nilou makes a pained expression, still managing to offer a thumbs up.

“...beyond my capabilities.”

You stick your tongue back out at her. “You’re the one who set up our first date!”

“And I’m so happy for you guys but you make me want to take a bath with an electro slime.” With one last sweet smile, she vanishes to the other side of the room. It’s true that your roommate is the one who introduced you. Nilou’s intuition is as sharp as ever. You’d thank her more if she didn’t sob every time you talk about Cyno because you’re ‘simply too cute’.

Cyno turns to you with a puzzled expression. “What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?”

“An electro slime bath. That must be uncomfortable.”

You blink. Taking a deep breath, you face him.

“So she means… It’s because we’re too coupley- and- uh, she’s not doing cute coupley stuff so- uh- she’s joking that she’d rather get electrocuted.”

Yeah, there’s no way you’re explaining this one.

“Oh, no wonder she left lightning fast.”

“Oh god.”

“See, it’s because Nilou referenced an electro slime and lightning is—”

And in flash, you pull him down by the collar before he can complete, your lips on his. You thought Cyno wasn’t too fond of sweets, and yet, you taste salted caramel. For you isn’t a valid answer. It’s conceited but part of you wants to entertain the idea of it. After all, you did learn to play his favorite game, to cook with him in sync, and to share kisses where he likes them—all for him. Love is two-way rope, and both of you tug too hard.

“Do you wanna take this up to the bedroom?” You tease, pulling away.

“Sure,” he says, tucking your hair behind your ears. “What’s up there?”

“Oh, by the way, do you have protection?”

Cyno straightens, furrowing his brows. “Why? What the fuck’s up there?”

That’s it. You can no longer hold back your laughter. You swear your boyfriend is funnier when he’s not trying.

“Stop laughing, (name).” Cyno crosses his arms, a look close to offense flashing across his eyes. “I don’t have my staff. Is there something bothering you?”

You can only laugh harder, trying your best to form a coherent response with tears in your eyes. Only Cyno can make you laugh this hard, much to the abject horror of everyone else in Sumeru. In a way, they’re grateful you’re their shield against his forsaken jokes. 

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Cyno. There’s a lot of stuff up there that’s oh so scary. Like my dil—”

“(Name).”

[yoimix]

HAI HAI THIS IS THE ANON WHO REQUESTED THE HAITHAM FIC FOR THE CHRISTMAS EVENT AND I JUST WANNA SAY I ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT AAAAAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOUR WORKS 😭🙏🙏

AAAAA SUNSHINE HELLO i'm so glad to hear that 😭💕 it was really fun writing that so thank you for requesting !!!! i've been in a bit of a writing slump lately and this gave me the final push to finish what i've been working on 😤😤😤 hope you had a great time during the holidays and happy new year, love❣️ 🥳

[yoimix]

𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 | 𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦

series: yoimix christmas event !! (๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)

pairing: alhaitham x reader

synopsis: if christmas is the season of giving, then you’re giving up on both alhaitham’s ability to play nice, and your teetering love life.

prompt: decorating the tree + mutual pining + modern au

genre: fluff, e2l

wc: 2.8k

warnings: language, this is just 90% bickering 

a/n: holy shit i got derailed from the schedule but i finally decorated the tree with my family (and attempted fixing the busted christmas lights) so merry christmas, my sunshines!! hope you have a lovely time and a wonderful year ahead ❣️

Alhaitham is a man of many talents.

Choosing Christmas ornaments is not one of them. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s aesthetically impaired or if he genuinely never decorated a tree before—but shopping with him has been one hell of a nightmare. It’s a shame he’s been selected as the one to host this year’s Christmas party. Lucky for him, the good samaritan in you decided to help him out. (Even though he told you to not bother and ‘mind your own business’.)

Not because you’re regrettably in love with him.

This year, Fate decided to stitch you a get-along sweater from previous years’ antics because you’re stuck helping him. You couldn’t refuse when Nilou personally called you up to make sure the background for the Instagram posts aren’t downright grotesque (of course, she put it rather nicely but that’s what she meant). You’d take any excuse to see his handsome face and sketch a frown onto it.

“Why the fuck did you buy the yellow ones? They’re hideous!” You hold up the bells, colored a neon yellow with sparkly bits and pieces, and certainly not easy on the eyes. It’s borderline vomit-colored. You never know how he manages to pick the worst thing that has ever befallen your eyes every time.

“They were Buy 6 Get 6 free.” Alhaitham shrugs. How you wish you could knock the nonchalant look off his face. 

“You don’t go by deals when you’re decorating!” You groan, exasperated. “Now we have twelve of these ugly motherfuckers.”

“They were also the first I saw in that aisle,” he answers, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand why you want to spend hours and hours walking around the department store when we can get the job done in five minutes.”

“Well, you’re doing a very sloppy job, bonehead.”

“At least we could get to the decorating part thanks to my intervention.” He crosses his arms. “Otherwise, we’d still be at the mall.”

“God, you are such a—ugh! Fine, let’s get on with it.”

Alhaitham hums in agreement—of course, he never bothers to spare more words than necessary. That’s an invitation to you, though, to provoke him till you have his full attention. Call it childish but you enjoy the cracks in his solid stances.

Besides, it’s not like he cares.

What you have is not a crush anymore—it’s festered into something more vile, more self-serving, and more fun. It’s not like it was back in college, when you could quarrel to your hearts’ content over assignments and exam scores. You have adult jobs now and seeing each other is much more irregular. You never expected silence to be so full of disquiet. 

However, the Christmas reunion every year gets blood rushing to your arteries faster than you let on. There is no greater spectacle for your friends than you and Alhaitham trying to one-up each other over every little festive detail. Last year, it was a squabble over the Christmas music selection, and the year before it was about the photos not turning out quite so well (Refer: Alhaitham’s lack of aesthetic sense), and once it was even about who’s the better driver just because you decided to drive to midnight mass. Let’s not even get started on preparing Christmas dinner. At the very least, though, your friends get to enjoy extravagant gifts from your unspoken gift-giving competition. It’s not like you’ll let a man flash his dollars in your face when you earn just as much, if not more. 

This year, obviously, you need to coach him on style.

“Don’t hang that on the tree—oh Jesus, I must personally apologize to you for whatever this heathen is doing to the tree. I promise I had no part in it—”

“Will you quit babbling and try to get shit done?”

You scoff. “I’d rather swallow concrete than let you put that up. I’m trying to save all of our eyes.”

“I highly doubt you have the capability.”

Alhaitham may not be that interested in this but like hell he’d let you do better. That’s the sort of man he is.

“You narcissistic ass…” You mutter, standing on your tiptoes to hang the rest of the little gift boxes.

“My, aren’t you sweeping self-awareness under the rug today?”

“Go fuck yourself, Alhaitham.”

You can feel the smirk on his face even if you don’t look up at him. 

To be very honest, you’re quite comfortable with how it is. Any step further, and you’ll be falling and scraping your knees; any larger distance and you’ll be bored out of your mind.

“Not that.”

You pull Alhaitham back by his sweater, somehow uglier than yours when you’ve been winning ugly sweater competitions since age eight. Seriously, whatever Eldritch horror rendition of a llama is on his sweater freaks you out. Apparently his niece stitched it herself so you’ll cut him some slack. It’s rather sweet of him, even.

“If not these, then what?” Alhaitham sighs, holding back the little neon murderers of the Christmas spirit. “Do you want to leave half the tree plain?”

“Obviously not, idiot. I’ll fashion some dice into ornaments. Ooh, maybe I can wrap some fruits in aluminum foil and hang them. I’ll paint.”

“What a nuisance,” he mutters, eyelids lowered. You swear it’s your lips he’s staring at but that can’t be possible.

It must be a trick of the light. You look away, shifting your focus to the leftover fairy lights. 

“And- and I have ribbons,” you continue, pretending you never noticed. “There’s also some Kalpalata lotuses we could stick in the branches. That’d be pretty, right?”

“Mhm, yes. Very unique.”

Your eyebrows travel halfway to your hairline. Alhaitham furrows his brows at your stunned silence, unsure of what caused the reaction.

“That’s the first time you’ve complimented me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”

Alhaitham’s serious response to your rivalry used to be your best validation. It’s not like you mind the occasional nice words though.

“Ooh, that makes me crave it more,” you tease, elbowing him as he purposely avoids your gaze.

“You get older but never wiser, do you?” He grumbles. 

“Then, O Great Sage, what is your wisdom tonight?”

Alhaitham turns to you sharply, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch in your throat. You can’t even take a step back for fear of the tree toppling. It seems he’s effectively grounded you. The lack of distance, however, does not fall inside your comfort zone. Is it terrible that you can’t stop staring? Everything about him is so annoyingly attractive, from the high cheekbones to the perfectly carved lips. 

“I know you enjoy pushing my buttons,” he speaks by your ear, voice low. “And efficiency is not a key you’ve ever held. But let’s try, hm?”

You’re only cheeky out of habit. “Do you like watching me squirm? Pervert.”

Alhaitham breathes out, clearly accepting his defeat. “It’s five already. Everyone arrives in two hours.”

You shrug. “We’re pretty much done, aren’t we? Unless you want me put in an ice rink and a cocktail bar too, your highness.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. You’re starting to miss the biting retorts. “Did you check the lights like I asked you to?”

“Oh shit.”

The Christmas lights are at least eight feet long and you have no idea why he has these. This man does not look like he feels any emotion from fairy lights. They’re braided every five light bulbs, and much to your and Alhaitham’s chagrin, they flicker and die midway. They are pretty though, emanatinga. warm golden glow. Very  

“God, I could be out partying right now,” you groan. “Why did I sign up for this?”

“That sounds like a plan. Please do me a favor and go partying.” Alhaitham takes the plug out of the socket, sighing. You press your lips into a thin line and snatch the plug, testing out the wiring. It’s just a little puzzle to solve. You’ve dealt with enough home electricals in your life. You can’t say the same for Mr Paper-for-brains.

“Despite your looks, you’re somehow the nerdiest loser I’ve ever met.” You huff, taking out each bulb and placing bits of aluminum foil to ensure the connections.

“What, because I don’t spend my Friday evenings inebriated?”

“Alcohol could do you some good, actually.”

He meets your retort with a sigh and you take it as a victory. You’re not some child throwing a tantrum that willful ignorance of your actions will get you to feel remorse. 

“It’s already sunset.” Alhaitham clicks his tongue. “The clock’s ticking and you still haven’t rid your habit of messing around with every little thing you see.”

“I’m not messing around! I just wanna solve it like a puzzle.”

“We could just buy new ones,” he states, a deadpan stare directed at you.

“...Or we could do that.” You turn away, breaking eye contact. “But seriously, don’t you find joy in solving some problems the hard way? Like, you wouldn’t set fire to a puzzle as an attempt to solve it.”

Alhaitham pauses, lips parted slightly but he can’t come up with a retort. He’s probably just amazed at your exceptionally stupid example. Even if that was your attempt to salvage your ego, you’re not entirely lying. You wouldn’t be here right now if you didn’t have the tendency to take longer, more troublesome, and more scenic routes. Your original sin is never letting go.

“Cat got your tongue?” You offer him a sarcastic smile. “I know it’s not the same—”

“The way you think is quite fascinating,” he says quietly. “I don’t understand—I’m drawn to it.”

You swallow your own words. Out of all the possible sentences that could’ve come out of his mouth, that wasn’t the one you were expecting.

“You’re creative,” he hums, tapping his fingers against the couch headrest idly. “And you’re strange.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.”

For the first time this evening, Alhaitham laughs. It’s dry, but it’s a deep sound nonetheless. You can’t take your eyes off him.

“Somehow, I can never understand you,” he responds, leaning back against the wall. “Maybe I never will. You piss me off.”

You let go of the lights and move to sit on the couch arm, looking up at him with a wondrous smile.

“And yet, you always stare at my lips. Are you so eager for the profanities that leave them?”

“I do not.”

A subtle snarl twists his lips. 

“Oh? You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

“Do I now?”

His voice is raised, and he’s no longer leaning against the wall. This is getting exciting. You’d do anything to keep his eyes on you.

“Yes, and you can’t stand it,” you state your theory, even if you don’t believe in it. There are limits to the lengths you’ll go, but you haven’t reached there yet.

Alhaitham knits his brows, clearly soured with the exchange by now with his tense shoulders and deep frown. You quite like that look on him. Especially when he looks at you like that at this proximity. It’s an honor to rile up the Alhaitham, infamous throughout your academic life. You’re not so bad yourself.

You blow a raspberry at him. “Do it, coward. Kiss me.” 

“You know what? Fucking gladly.”

Before you can process it, a soft pair of lips push against yours, while his hands hold you by the waist to keep you in place. You give in for a flash of a second, before you pull away with a gasp. That was not good for your heart. However, you’re not the only one in dire conditions. 

Alhaitham is a sight to behold. His face is the color of ripe Henna berries—you’re not sure if it’s from the kiss or the fact that he’s still pissed off at you. You reach out to press your palm against his cheek, the gesture softening his gaze ever so slightly.

This time, you tug him in, the kiss hesitant at first before the two of you ease into it. When your noses bump, you hold back a giggle and you can feel him smile against your lips. Oh, you’ve never seen all these hues and shades before. You pull away, and he nearly chases your lips before his ego yanks him back by the collar.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” You smirk.

“Not a chance.”

“Then look me in the eyes.”

Alhaitham meets your gaze with no protest whatsoever, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Even in defeat, he manages to look like the arrogant bastard he is.

“Lying doesn’t suit you, sweetheart,” you tut.

Alhaitham raises an eyebrow.

“Tell me again, what you said to me at graduation.”

“What did I say?” You feign ignorance. At the time, it seemed like an appropriate response to him holding up his 4.0 over your 3.95. The goal was never just summa cum laude.

“That you hate me,” he answers, pulling you closer and closer till his mouth hovers above yours. “Tell me you hate me and call me a liar once more. I dare you.”

“I hate you,” you breathe against his lips, “I hate you so much.”

“Liar.” The smile against your lips is sweeter than holiday season. In fact, it might even be comparable to your rich chocolate cookies in ecstasy. 

You pull away with a teasing smile. “Have you been thinking I hate you for all these years?”

Alhaitham rolls his eyes to the side, completely ignoring your remark.

“You like me, don’t you?” Your smile grows wider, a sudden rush of schoolgirl infatuation filling you. 

“How in the ever loving fuck did you come to that conclusion?”

The sarcasm drips like honey off his voice. As if you couldn’t fall any further.

“Maybe you should kiss me again, so I can gather more evidence for a stronger conclusion. I wouldn’t go wrong with my hypothesis.” You lean in, grinning as brightly as the stars in the sky.

He hums, fighting back a smile. “Well, I do support the scientific method.” 

“Okay, so whatever feud you’re having, I’m on (name)’s side—oh.”

Kaveh freezes at the doorway. Surely, the one image he never would’ve conjured up in his head was that of you sitting on the floor between Alhaitham’s legs, his arms wrapped around your waist as you sort through your Christmas cards. And the two of you are laughing. Is that not cause for concern? 

“You know, when people are built like a coconut tree, they shouldn’t be standing in front of doors—oh.”

Cyno is your next victim, and his jaw drops less conspicuously than Kaveh’s does but it surprises him nonetheless. He swears on his gold star espeon card that he’d sooner expect Alhaitham to drop dead than admit his crush on you. No, even if he got over his emotional constipation, Cyno didn’t think you’d be at peace without pressing something to his throat. It truly is a Christmas miracle.

“Boys, can we not clog the doorway?” Dehya groans. “I get that this is the first time you knuckleheads have ever sensed emotion, but we saw this coming a mile away.”

“Oh, don’t be mean, Dehya,” Dunyarzad pokes Dehya’s side, causing the latter to giggle and wrap her arm around Dunyarzad’s waist. “Besides, you went into shock too when I suggested they might have a thing for each other.”

Dehya opens her mouth and closes it again. “You got me there.”

“Alright now, everyone,” Nilou stands on her tiptoes to peek over Kaveh and Dehya’s shoulders. “I set them up and I can’t see the fruit of my efforts.”

“You did what?!” You yell, getting pulled down by Alhaitham when you try to get up. Shooting him a glare, you get comfortable anyway.

“Oh, now you hear me.” 

You try your best to not look offended. Alhaitham tilts his head to the side, an eyebrow raised in curiosity towards the information Nilou just dropped. There’s no schemes without him.

“You just needed an excuse and I knew—”

“Nilou, please stop talking, I’ll buy you more shiba inu figurines.”

“No bribe can—”

“Broadway tickets.”

Nilou makes a gesture of zipping her lips. “My lips are sealed, your highness.”

Alhaitham sighs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You do know that I’m aware of your advances? You’re not very subtle.”

Your jaw drops, offended. “I thought I was being sexy and flirty and mysterious.”

“You were literally none of those. All you did was drive me up a wall.”

“But did that work?”

“Yes.”

Kaveh makes a gagging sound. “If you guys start making out during Nightmare before Christmas, I will vomit all over you.”

“Did you pay rent or are you going to dirty someone else’s living room?” Alhaitham asks.

Kaveh looks away, whistling a note. It elicits a wave of laughter, and like dominoes, Christmas eve is set into motion. The presents line the base of the tree, the lights have been dimmed till only the fairy lights shine, and Alhaitham has started the hallmark movie after much grumbling. 

Maybe the Christmas spirit has some meaning after all; and you could debate this with your boyfriend, but it is the most wonderful time of the year to celebrate anniversaries.

[yoimix]

I was reading your recent kaeya fic and I was like "wait this sounds similar to that taylor song" then I read your tags LOL

holy shit when i say taylor is carrying my writing inspiration on her back i swear on it 😩 it's mostly either her, keshi or honeyworks on my fic playlists 💞 plus mastermind is one of my fav songs from midnights 🥰 you have great taste, sunshine 😎

[yoimix]

HELLO just wanted to say that the gingerbread house kaveh fic and the recent xmas kaeya fic was so cute!! my heart is in shambles and im cradling the pieces but in a good way because YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOD delicious like hot chocolate with blankets yum thank you for the food 🛐🛐🛐 i love the silliness with the kaveh fic and the yearning in both fics and soft kaeya CHEFS KISS 5 michellin stars out of 5

AHHH omfg sunshine you just made my day!!!!!!!! reading this over and over bc it brings me my will to write 😭 i try my best with the fics i put out and you have no idea how validating this ask is ૮⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝ ა and the way you described it with the hot chocolate PLEASEEE 🥺 i feel so warm and happy just reading that ❣️ (yearning is my fav thing to write ily thank you for noticing) i hope you eat the best food this week, and spend christmas warm and full of love 😤 just like how you made me feel with this ask, you're the sweetest ☀️💕

[yoimix]

picrew tag game ❣️

tagging: @creambrulee @matchabears @aequariem + whoever else wants to do this !!

rules: make yourself a picrew avatar here!!

picrew has me in a chokehold but i really wish they’d have more than three skin tones 👁️_👁️ this one has really cute backgrounds tho (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

[yoimix]

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 | 𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐚

series: yoimix christmas event !! (๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)

pairing: kaeya x reader

synopsis: even if you’re only joking that kaeya could flirt his way through teyvat, you really wish he’d start with you. and christmas is all about granting wishes, right?

prompt: kaeya + mistletoe kiss + f2l

genre: fluff, very slight angst (you have to squint), f2l

wc: 3.1k

warnings: language, kaeya cringe flirting, not proofread

a/n: sorry for the delay on this one :c hope you guys have fun reading nevertheless!!

“So, Mr. Knight of Favonius, care to tell me why we’re at a tavern on Christmas Eve?”

“Well, dear civilian, the Favonius party is simply the worst holiday party I’ve ever attended.”

Kaeya shrugs despite the confusion on your face.

“You mean to say you’d rather skip a party with the best food in Mondstadt? Jean never misses with the selection.”

He rolls his eyes. “Food isn’t everything, (name).”

You place your hands on your hips. “So what is?”

Kaeya takes a deep breath. “I’ll tell you everything that isn’t.”

The moonlight falls in waves over Kaeya’s hair as he walks with you downtown. A look of mild distaste colors his expression, soft lips pressed together as he looks forward. The tapping of his heels against the cobblestones isn't the only sound, however. The whole of Mondstadt is abuzz, walking through the winter-hued streets with loved ones arm-in-arm. A tree stands tall at the city center, shimmering with lights and ornaments handpicked by the people. The houses are lit bright way past the usual bedtime, and you can’t help but feel a sting of wanting.

Warmth is elusive and you crave it more and more each passing winter night.

Kaeya’s sigh pulls you out of your thoughts. With fingertips as cold as ice, he has a surprisingly warm tone of voice.

“First of all, there’s no wine. Can you believe it? A Mondstadt party without wine?”

A spark of annoyance flickers in Kaeya’s eyes.

“Well, last year you got so drunk you cuddled a barrel of wine at Diluc’s winery. And then Diluc made me stay the night to take care of you.”

Kaeya pointedly ignores your remark. It’s not so often he lets all loose like that—in fact, most of Mondstadt couldn’t possibly answer if they’ve ever seen the cavalry captain quite so intoxicated. In a strange, twisted way, it makes you feel special.

“Two, it’s in the Favonius Headquarters—the very same workplace I spend every day at, see and converse with the same coworkers at. Is that even a party? I’m being asked work questions, (name). Isn’t that too cruel?”

You purse your lips at his rant. “That’s fair.”

“Thirdly, if one more person asks me about the horses, I will stab my own guts out.”

You giggle. “Well, are the hors—”

Kaeya presses the tip of his index finger against your lips, shaking his head. A dead serious look takes over his eyes. 

“No.”

You hold back a laugh. It’s not easy for ordinary folks to notice but—fatigue settles often in the eyes of the cavalry captain. Luckily, he looks much fresher tonight.

Handsome, even.

You mentally slap yourself. That’s not allowed, you’ve told yourself repeatedly. You can’t look at your friend, your first friend in Mondstadt, that way. You sigh, and Kaeya moves his finger away as though you blew it away. Chuckling, he steps forward and holds the door to Cat’s Tail open for you.

“Shall we?”

You sigh, entering the tavern. You’ve got a long night ahead of you. 

Kaeya makes it faster though, by skipping straight to tequila. You nearly gag at the scent of how strong it is, offering him a dubious look as he downs the shot with a group of strangers he seems to be well connected with. The interior of Cat’s Tail is just as toasty as you expected—but it looks like Kaeya’s determined to raise the heat to the maximum.

“It’s not like you to have alcohol straight,” you say, concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Of course I’m alright, (name),” he laughs before turning to you. “Unless you plan to nag me for the rest of the night. Then neither of us will be having fun.”

“But you hate it when it’s bitter,” you mumble, watching him down another shot.

Kaeya places the shot glass on the counter, grimacing. The bartender offers you a look of pity and you return a pursed smile.

“You’re right, that was horrible,” he groans. “I just… I can’t stand the cold.”

You giggle. “Despite your vision?”

“Sometimes because of it,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against his palm. The alcohol has already flushed his skin red and he plays idly with a coin of mora.

The music is festive inside the tavern, and maybe that’s what keeps your hopes up. The cats snore in some corner, largely ignoring the crowd of people celebrating the holidays with friends and family. Kaeya alternates between chatting up the crowd, the flush on his cheek spread to his ears, and telling you details he’s picked up from them. If you’re being honest, he’s unbearably cute when he talks about others with fascination. People watching has always been a favorite activity for the two of you.

“Ugh, my tongue tastes bitter,” he groans, sticking it out as though trying to prove his statement. “What a pity Diona couldn’t join us.”

“Let the girl enjoy Christmas Eve with her father.” You click your tongue. “Besides, it’s only your fault for choosing shots.”

“How else am I supposed to enjoy a night so joyous?”

You wave at the bartender, ordering a sweeter cocktail for Kaeya before he drinks anything else insane. With the unsolicited lessons on wine he’s given you, it’d be shameful to not remember something from the list.

“My, aren’t you sent from the Anemo Archon himself?” Kaeya remarks, a smile playing on his lips. “I’m blessed.”

The cocktail is placed on the counter with a soft clink.

“Get your drink and stop hogging the counter, Captain,” the bartender chides, sending you an almost pleading look. Apparently, you’re Kaeya’s assigned babysitter.

“Boy, I thought you were Diluc for a moment,” Kaeya chokes. “But I would’ve sensed the brooding from a mile away.”

The bartender responds with a hearty laugh. “You’re funny, Captain. But I gotta do my job.”

Kaeya places a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “Come now, have I not increased revenue? Isn’t Margaret proud of me?”

“Madam Margaret has specifically told you to pay your tab.”

“Oh.”

You hold back a laugh, grabbing the drink in one hand and Kaeya’s arm in the other before you thank the bartender and leave to occupy a more cozy corner of the tavern. Sitting Kaeya down on a cushy chair, you hand him his drink like handing candy to a child. His eye sparkles, and you admire how pretty it is even under the miserly lights of the tavern. You take a seat beside him, watching as the crowds celebrate, the thought of warmth bringing a smile to your face. It’s always nice imagining the reasons behind smiles. Festivities boost the emotion.

To be honest, you were getting uncomfortable at the center of the crowd. Kaeya may be talented at blending in, but you get too awkward for exchanges. It’s funny because he’s the one with the eyepatch. However, you’ve always been better at watching from a distance. It’s troubling that Kaeya nearly manages to close it between the two of you every time.

You have to remind yourself that you’re not special.

“Death in the afternoon,” he sighs. “A delectable concoction. It’s a shame you refuse to drink with me.”

“Well, who’s gonna drag you home and stop you from cuddling barrels?” You roll your eyes. “What would you do without me?”

You breath hitches in your throat when you turn towards him, the smug smile wiped off your face. He’s so close you can feel his breath, warm as candlelight. As cheeky as he can be, you can’t help the rush of blood to your arteries when he looks down at your lips and back at your eyes. Kaeya Alberich. Your demise and your dawn.

“Ah-ah,” he whispers, the tone warning. “You should watch what you say, dear.”

“And what did I say?” You reply softly.

“Nothing but the truth.” His smile grows wider. His voice drips of gold and you are not immune to treasure. 

Before you can find yourself leaning in, you look away and an obnoxious laugh follows. He’s always extra flirty when he’s drunk.

You’re not special.

Then, can he stop making you feel that way?

“You do feel something for me,” he states, pleased with his conclusion.

“What makes you say that?” You refuse to meet his eyes.

“Just a hunch,” he answers before a dry laugh befalls his lips. “Or maybe hope. You understand, don’t you?”

“The only thing I understand is that you reek of alcohol,” you chide, placing your hand against your hip.

“Can I tell you a secret then?” He sighs, defeated.

You tilt your head, awaiting an explanation.

Much to the shock of your poor heart, he leans in to place his lips right by your ear.

“You know I’m never really that drunk, right?”

“Huh?”

A giggle follows. He sounds like a child gleefully explaining that he did the exact thing his parents warned him not to do.

“Gosh, you’re just so cute I… I truly am sorry.”

Kaeya stops himself, pursing his lips. You’re not sure what holds him back. But you know it must be something of grave consequence. No word of the Cavalry Captain has been offered in vain. Even if they’re chock full of fluff, they work like clockwork under Kaeya’s careful planning.

“Can you hold me please?”

His request is quiet. You can barely process it when he picks up your hands and places his cheeks between your palms.

“I’m sorry I never seem to be able to say it,” he hums. “I end up worrying more often than not.”

“Worrying about what?” You lean in. The chatter of the tavern seems to have died down, but you know for a fact it’s the blood rushing to your ears.

“I’ve spilled enough secrets, haven’t I?”

“You’re so cryptic,” you huff. “I never know what you’re plotting.”

“Oh please, it’s all from the heart,” he pouts. “I don’t plot.”

“Yeah, right. You scheme like a criminal. If you weren’t a Knight of Favonius, I’m sure you’d be swiping shit left and right.”

“I’m offended you think I’d be a lowly thief.”

“A robber then?”

“Why do you want me to steal things so bad? Only your heart could get me to do that.”

You gag, curling your lips. “I can’t believe you said that out loud.”

Kaeya laughs out loud, leaning in a bit when he does. The glow over his cheekbones, only brightens under the dim tavern lights, and you swear you can count the lashes on his eyes, plenty and long. It’s embarrassing to admit how he lights up your heart. You manage to pry your hands out of his and shove them inside your pocket. He makes a whine of protest but doesn’t chase after.

“Seriously, Kaeya, all your flirting will land you in trouble.”

“I am serious. When it comes to you, more than anything.”

You scoff. “There you go again. Is it part of your grand plan to flirt Teyvat into submission? Hell, you almost made me fall for you the first time we met.”

“Oh? What stopped you?”

“The fact that you’re a filthy liar.”

You’re only joking but Kaeya purses his lips, a deep frown lining his features.

“Would you have fallen if I let fate run its course?”

“Huh?”

“I can’t trust the stars and planets to align just for the two of us,” he hums, looking out the window. “But I choke over my words trying to line the dominoes. So much for effortless.”

“Is this another scheme I’m unaware of?”

“Mhm. I’m afraid you’d hate me if you were aware.”

“Nothing could get me to hate you.”

Kaeya snorts. “Gosh, fate is a funny thing. It’s not my friend yet it landed me here—and even then, I can’t bear to look at your lips.”

A rush of blood warms your face.

“But I must confess…” He continues, eyes distant. “As a sinner must.”

You finally understand what he’s getting at.

I don’t deserve love. Kaeya acts flirty, dips his words in liquid gold and lines his smile with diamonds—but not for once, has he ever believed in words of kindness. He’s not the wide-eyed boy you heard about from Adelinde; but he’s not so jaded he’d break your heart without second thought. Kaeya is a hard man to read—but with the way he melts against your touch, you can’t help but feel he longs for the same warmth you do.

“I stand by what I said,” you respond quietly. “I wouldn’t hate you no matter what.”

“Even if I'm Machiavellian scum that lies every other sentence? Even if I want you so desperately, I’m willing to deceive you? Even if- even if—”

“It’s alright, Kaeya.” You press your index finger to his lips, his eyes widening in surprise. It makes you giggle.

He sighs. “It’s not bad practice to question every blessing in my life.”

A teasing smile tugs at your lips. “Is that why you interrogate me so often?”

Kaeya shakes his head, and you remove your finger. He reaches out an arm, placing his hand on your head as though in a comforting pat, but instead he messes all your hair up.

“Hey!” You yell, his laughter following as you try to reach for his head and fail, blocked by the rapid reflex of his arms.

“You’re so annoying,” you snap. “Come here, you- you rascal!”

Kaeya’s laughter only grows, as though he’s being tickled. In a way, he might as well be—your scrunched up face and angry insults have the same effect. The atmosphere lightens just like that. In a last attempt, you try to sneak in your hands as fast as you can, only for gloved ones to clutch them, effectively stopping any movement.

“You won’t win against me,” Kaeya whispers, leaning in.

A rush of blood to your head snaps you to reality, in focus of the lack of distance between the two of you. Kaeya’s lips are soft, glossy even and you know from the scent it’s the same strawberry lip balm you gifted him. How unfortunate for you that it smells delicious.

“Oh my god, of course they’re flirting under the mistletoe.”

What you didn’t expect were the tall figures of the Acting Grand Master and the winery owner himself standing by the tavern door with their arms crossed. A certain outrider covers her blushing face behind them, eyes wide with whatever wild imagination she’s trying so hard to tame. A few other knights stand scattered around them, already easing into the party atmosphere of the tavern. You’re not sure what prompted a visit from the whole Favonius crew. 

Jean giggles before Kaeya can retort with anything. “So this is where you sneaked off to.”

Diluc looks disgusted for the most part but goes along with Jean. Amber, on the other hand, looks like she’s holding back laughter. 

“Oh dear, what brings our busy bees to Cat’s Tail?”

“The afterparty,” Jean answers, biting back a smile. “Which you would know if you joined us.”

Amber giggles behind her. “We had mistletoes at the headquarters too, you know?”

“You can’t keep Kaeya away from wine,” Diluc mutters with distaste.

“And you can’t keep him away from (name) either,” Jean adds, laughing. “Sorry for crashing your date.”

“I’m surprised you’re not snogging each other’s faces off,” Amber chirps. “I wish Eula was here… Not- not for the mistletoe, of course.”

“That, I did not plan,” Kaeya turns to you before anything else, pointing upwards. He looks genuinely caught off guard though he tries his best to mask it.

“So? Where’s the kiss?” Amber teases. 

“That’s enough, Amber,” Jean laughs, shaking her head. “This is the first time I’ve seen Kaeya teased to a loss of words.”

You’re not sure which one of them gave Kaeya the final push. Maybe it was you.

Warm lips press against yours in a heartstopping kiss, the hands of the clock stopping all at once. Time holds nothing against the two of you—and Kaeya swears your own name against your lips.

When he pulls away after what felt like far too little, your fingers fly to your lips and you can barely register your audience. Jean is flushed fully red despite her teasing remarks and Diluc covers Ambers eyes while she waves around comically. However, the crowd erupts into cheers, with a loud chant of “Fucking finally!” from one of the knights.

Kaeya knows how to please people, even if he doesn’t choose to.

“Let’s go,” Kaeya whispers in your ear, when the spotlight befalls other couples in the tavern. You’re not sure what chain reaction Kaeya’s lighted, but you’re glad to have an excuse to leave.

The cold air hits you harsher than you expected. But it’s the same old Mondstadt, same old comforting walls.

“Sorry” is the first thing Kaeya says. 

“Why?” You hold your breath.

“Because as much as I want to say I did that to get us out, I enjoyed it far too much.” Kaeya frowns, unable to meet your eyes. 

“You never heard me out,” you whisper.

He finally looks up, awaiting your explanation. He’s even prettier under the midnight moon. He’s too pretty to look this way, torn between his ways and what’s right.

“I know you refuse to listen to me no matter what,” you breathe. “Is it so hard to believe I’m in love with you?”

Kaeya blinks. “But… but it’s my fault, isn’t it? I laid the groundwork- and- and I set the scene—I did this to you.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” You giggle. “Doesn’t that mean you care?”

“But- but… I- I could be using you! How could you trust me so easily?”

You take a step forward. “What could you gain by using me, silly? It’s okay to admit you want to be loved, Kaeya.”

Kaeya lets himself get pulled in by you, resting his chin on your shoulder. How long has it been since someone’s hugged him this way? He’s engulfed by your scent, unable to think straight.

“But that’s when terrible things happen,” he mumbles against your skin.

“That won’t stop me,” you declare. “You could be a criminal, a sinner, a heathen—and I’d still hold you when you want me to.”

His walls are crumbling. 

“You deserve better.”

“Mhm. But it’s you I’m holding.”

Kaeya finally gives in, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter. His breath is warm against your neck and though the faintest smell of alcohol wafts from him, you run your fingers through his hair. It’s finally warm enough.

“Shall we?” You whisper. It’s time to go home.

“Is this a scheme of yours?” Kaeya chuckles softly, recovered.

“Only because I care,” you answer, smiling.

[yoimix]

just found your acc from your gingerbread kaveh one shot and it’s so cute 😭😭🙏 i, too, love idiots to lovers 🫶

aaaaaa thank you so much, sunshine !!! you are right, idiots to lovers reigns supreme ❣️ there is nothing more endearing than two fools trying to express their feelings for each other in ways that make no sense 😩🙏