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magicalbats · 6 days ago

Text

Stay, Don't Go

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 12,225

Warnings: Afab!reader, childhood friends, reader is on the ace spectrum, injured Childe (nothing crazy, its just a scratch lol) noncon to dubcon, manipulation and coercion for sexual favors, handjob, mutual masturbation

A/N: The next commission is for @scarameowww (I hope that tag worked, for some reason I don't see your icon populating when I type it!) and I had a lot of fun working on this one, it turned out really soft despite how the tags sound xcvkvndkek Please enjoy, everyone!

⭐

You’re standing in the kitchen, fumbling with one of the last few remaining potatoes from your cellar, when the knock comes at the front door.

It’s a tentatively polite sound, as if the person who’d come calling wasn’t sure they’d find you at home or not, but it makes you jump all the same as if they’d pounded at the chipping wood with the full force of their body. The sharp knife in your hand slips with the involuntary muscle spasm and you hiss a small noise when you nick your thumb with the blade.

Trying your best to ignore the sting, you pause there only long enough to watch as blood slowly bubbles up along the nearly invisible slice in your skin, so razor thin you would have otherwise missed it.

Well, that was just great.

You quickly drop the half peeled potato into the waiting pot on the stove and pop your injured thumb in your mouth, turning on your heel just as another knock rap-raps from the front of the house. “Coming!”

Heavy skirts swaying with each step, you hurry out into the hall and make a beeline for the door where you quickly wrench at the series of deadbolts along the frame. It was just you alone in the house while your father was off serving in the Tsaritsa’s army, after all, so the extra precautions made sense. But it was the middle of the day and not likely to be any hooligans up to no good, probably just one of the other girls from the nearby village if you had to guess.

Still sucking gingerly at your wounded finger, you finally get the last lock unlatched and you swing the door open wide to allow in a fresh blast of icy wind. What you find waiting for you on the other side nearly bowls you over on the spot though and you freeze in place.

Everything else around you seems to fade away to nothing, like you’re standing in the middle of some immaterial void as you look up at the face of the young man standing before you with nothing short of dumbstruck disbelief. You couldn’t believe it.

“Ajax? Is it … it’s really you, isn’t it?”

The coppery headed brunette sends you a playful if not tight edged smile from the other side of the threshold where he’s leant rather heavily against the side of the cottage. “I certainly hope no one else has been showing up at your doorstep with my face. And really, sucking your thumb? Kochanie, I thought we left that sort of thing behind us at the schoolyard.”

You give a small start at that, belatedly realizing that you were still holding your hand just in front of your face. The little cut hardly mattered in the moment though, and a wide grin quickly spreads across your mouth as you step forward to embrace him.

“Don’t tease me, Ajax. When you knocked I was just … wait, are you alright?”

Now that the shock of his unexpected arrival was starting to wear off you notice how stiffly he seems to be holding himself there on your front step, how his expression looks a bit pinched. A rush of concern comes pouring in to douse some of the happy flutters you’d first felt, and you momentarily forget about hugging him in favor of placing a careful hand on his arm over the bulky white cloak that hangs from his shoulders.

Drawing a terse breath, Ajax drops his chin to look at where you’re touching him and his smile turns somewhat wry. “I’d thought I could hide it a little better than that, at least for a while. Guess I really can’t keep anything from you, huh?”

“What is it? What happened, Ajax? Please tell me.”

“It’s nothing to fly off into hysterics about. I just got a bit too careless, that’s all.” Groaning softly under his breath, so quiet it’s nearly imperceptible, he forces himself to straighten up from his slouch which leaves him all but towering over you at his full height.

You can’t help the mild pang of surprise that curls through you though when you realize just how great the difference seems now, wondering if he’d had another late growth spurt since the last time you’d seen him. It had been a few good months now, maybe even close to a year, but …

“You’re injured?”

“Only a little bit.” He laughs a low, thinly veiled sound of pain, as if it were lingering and insistent rather than fading with time. “Like I said, no need to panic. I was just hoping you might let me stay here until I have enough strength to make the rest of the trek home.”

Your mind flies through a million different possibilities all at once. A hundred different wounds, a dozen weapons that could have caused considerable harm to a warrior as accomplished as him and the laundry list of potential complications that came with any number of them. If something was broken it would have to be properly set or it wouldn’t heal right, and if he’d been punctured or sliced with something it could easily end in a lethal infection if not treated … you were overwhelmed just thinking about it, and terribly out of your depth here.

“Kochanie?”

Feeling suddenly numb, you lift your head at his hedging tone. Far be it that you were a nurse or any kind of competent medic, but you weren’t stupid either. You knew exactly how dangerous it could be if Ajax didn’t get the right care he needed and you weren’t confident in your ability to provide that to him.

“Of course you can stay here. My home is always open, you know that. But you need to be seen by a doctor. Come inside and rest while I go to the village to get the physician. I’ll drag him here by his coattails if I have to.”

Still muttering an endless stream of disoriented, vocalized thoughts under your breath, you duck back inside just within the door to snag your own cloak off of the hook on the wall. You quickly start to step around him, focused solely on your objective as you lift the frayed cape to your shoulders, but he stops you in place with a gloved hand on your elbow.

“Wait.” He insists, emphatic enough that you snap your attention back up at his face again. “Don’t go. That won’t be necessary so just stay here with me. Please. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“But … I don’t understand, Ajax. If you’re really wounded there’s not much I can do to help you …”

He gives his head a slow shake as the bottomless blues of his eyes disappear behind dark lashes, squeezed shut against the physical discomfort he was clearly feeling. “That’s not true. You’ll help me plenty just by staying here. The truth is … I don’t want to run the risk of Tuecer or my mother seeing me like this. If you bring someone here and word of this spreads, they might try to come knocking at your door the same way I did. Besides, didn’t you used to like playing nurse? Here’s your chance to finally live out that childhood fantasy of yours.”

“That’s not funny.” You insist, heaving a clipped exhale to make your breath condensate heavily in the air. He was only ribbing you a little bit, teasing you the same way he always did, you knew that well. But you still didn’t appreciate it or his attempt to brush off your concern very much. “Your condition could quickly worsen if you’re not properly treated. This winter's been hard and I don’t have much in the way of supplies even if I did know how to set a bone or stitch a gash but … I get what you mean about your family. You don’t want them to worry, right?”

At his stilted nod, the sincerity in his gaze, you shift your weight from one foot to the other in a clear sign of relent.

“Then I suppose there’s nothing else I can say to that. Are you certain it isn’t serious or life threatening though? I can leave at a moment's notice, all you have to do is give the word.”

“I promise, kochanie. You worry too much sometimes. It’s just a little scratch, that’s all. Even you should be able to handle something like this without a problem.”

Well, that didn’t exactly instill you with overwhelming confidence but if he was certain he didn’t have immediate need for a doctor then you’d just have to do your best and hope for a favorable outcome. Ajax was much too stubborn to make him do something he didn’t want to and you couldn’t exactly force him either when he was already twice your size even though it didn’t seem like all that long ago when you’d been of a same height with each other. Pushing it any further would’ve been the very definition of fighting a losing battle.

“Fine. But if it starts to look like you’re taking a turn for the worse I’ll go running to the village straight away and you don’t get to complain about it. Does that sound fair?”

A slow grin spreads across his face. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Water drips and splashes in the basin as you wring the rag out, pointedly ignoring the dull ache it causes your cut. There were far more pressing matters that needed your attention right now though, and you listen to the sound of Ajax shifting behind you, groaning a faintly breathy noise while he works to discard his clothes. The wound was on his chest, he’d said, but you weren’t sure what sort of severity to expect. A gory mess or maybe only a minor laceration? It was sometimes hard to tell with him.

Mentally bracing yourself for the worst and praying for the best, you wait until you hear him sink down on the edge of the bed before turning around. You find him slouched back on his braced hands, grimacing slightly as he slowly nudges at one of his boots with the other to get it kicked off. And it’s no wonder what’s causing the discomfort anymore, a sharp intake of air catching inside your throat the moment your eyes fix upon his abdomen.

The injury did indeed start at his chest, he hadn’t been lying about that part. But it extends well past that and down over his stomach, almost straight to the top of his pants where it miraculously missed his bellybutton by a hair’s breadth margin. Ragged and uneven in spots, it looked to you like someone — or something had caught him good with a sword or … perhaps a lance?

You were positively aghast.

“This is what you call a little scratch?”

Leaving his boot halfway off for the moment, he lifts his gaze to send you a lazy, confident grin. “If you think this is bad you should’ve seen the other guy. Like I said, I just got a bit careless. But it’ll heal up fast if I can sleep it off for a while. I don’t even think it needs stitches.”

You’re not so sure you’re in agreement with that estimation but you decide to inspect it from a closer angle, picking up the basin to take it with you now that you had a better idea of the situation.

Coming right up to the side of the bed where you can stand between the wide spread of his knees, you lean forward to get a better look. Apprehension makes your heart thud heavily inside your chest but, to your surprise, the cut indeed seemed to be surface level at best. It’s bloody and pink around the edges, raw to denote its freshness, but you can make out no sign of bone, organs or even the subcutaneous fatty layer underneath. He must have lurched back from his attacker just in time to avoid it slicing any deeper than it had.

Mouth settling into a firm line, you sink down to your knees and set the water filled basin next to you on the floor. Then you take the damp cloth in your hand and lean up to dab at the bottom corner of the wound, exceedingly gentle in the way you brush at the drying flakes and clumps of blood, the jagged edges of sliced skin. He still hisses though, tensing at the contact, and you shoot him a quick look.

“Sorry. I’ll try to be careful.”

“It’s alright.” Ajax forces out a thin laugh that does very little to soften his tightly shuttered expression. “There’s no helping it in this case so don’t let that scare you. What matters is that it gets cleaned, right? Just stay focused and I’ll be a nice, cooperative patient for you.”

It feels like there’s a solid lump in your throat threatening to choke you up but you heed his imploring all the same and turn your gaze back towards Ajax’s middle again. Taking your time with it to ensure you don’t accidentally pull at the skin or tear the new scabbing off, you patiently work to remove all the brittle residue of coagulated blood along the gouge and wipe away the clinging red stains on his skin as you go.

You’re quite relieved to find that the longer you spend looking at it the less serious it seems. It had been plenty alarming at first glance yet your earlier evaluation quickly proves correct. It may have been a close call on his part but he’d narrowly avoided being gutted like a fish. Thank the Cryo Archon for that.

“What did this to you?” You finally dare to ask some minutes later.

“Bandits.”

You don’t know if you believe that but you keep that thought to yourself as you gradually reach higher up his torso, stopping every so often to clean and wet the rag. It’s easy to get lost in the rhythm of this task, letting your mind narrow and recede until only the simple objective of cleaning him off remains. Maybe it wasn’t the perfect results of a trained professional but you thought you were doing a pretty good job.

“It seems like it’s been some time since you were last home. Where have you been until now?”

“Mmm. I was in Liyue, by order of the Tsaritsa.” He suddenly sucks in a rough breath when you get a bit too close to the most uneven portion of the wound, right below the center of his chest. Your pulse jumps and you quickly apologize, but Ajax just gives his head a slow shake to accompany the faltering exhale he breathes out. “I’m okay, don’t worry. We were just doing early reconnaissance, by the way. I can tell you wanted to ask.”

None of that comes as a great shock but you smile up at him anyway, warming at the familiar sense of affection that curls through you. He really did know you better than anyone else. Your oldest friend, your …

Shoving that strange thought to the back of your mind, you return to the task laid out before you. There was an undeniable curiosity you harbored to hear all of his stories, his escapades in foreign lands, but you don’t bother asking him for more detail than that, knowing he wouldn’t divulge anything of any real importance.

Instead you settle on, “How was it? Everything the traveling merchants and adventurers say it is?”

“It’s a beautiful nation. In fact, I think I’d like to take you there some day … if you’d be interested.”

A quick laugh slips out of you. “Oh, is that so?”

The moment stretches into silence as you finally reach the top of the injury, idly wondering if he didn’t need a few stitches after all while you clean what looks to be the starting point of his wound. You were a novice at best but to your untrained eye it looked like whatever had attacked him had used a heavy downward swing, likely with the intention of cleaving him clean in half. It was horrible to think about but at least he was still alive.

So caught up in your whirling thoughts, you don’t even realize how expectant the quiet becomes until he abruptly shatters it with one, tersely delivered word.

“Kochanie.”

Stilling, you rove your eyes up towards his face again, a distant note of surprise settling in your stomach when you see how grim and resolute he suddenly looks.

“I’m serious.” He tells you with utmost sincerity. “I’ll take you to Liyue someday so you can see it for yourself. Or Mondstadt or Natlan. The whole world. Wherever you want to go.”

You aren’t quite sure what to say to that, uncertain how to read this new mood, but you offer up another small smile all the same. “That’s sweet of you, Ajax. But I’m perfectly happy right here in Snezhnaya. You don’t need to take me anywhere.”

“But …”

He sounds uncharacteristically hesitant and you tip your head to one side in question. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? Did you lose more blood than you thought?”

Ajax barks a quick laugh, and just like that his outward demeanor shifts back to that of the laidback, confident man in the prime of his youth. His grin turns lopsided, almost cocky, as he leans back to brace his hands on the bed again, giving his taut body a long, lean stretch — clearly meant for your benefit.

“You think me delirious or something, kochanie? I’m perfectly in my right mind. I meant every word I said … but we can discuss that later. Are you satisfied?”

It takes you a prolonged beat to figure out he means the work you’ve done on his wound and you numbly drop your gaze back to the slice taken out of him. This easily would’ve been enough to cripple almost any other man, enough to kill the average person, but not Ajax. Still though, you wonder again if he should have it sewn up to ensure it closed and healed properly. Not like he wasn’t already littered with a myriad litany of different battle scars but …

“I think I’ve cleaned it as best I can.” You venture slowly. “Are you certain we shouldn’t have it stitched though? I could always - -“

“No. No stitches. I told you it would heal up just fine as long as I have ample time to rest, didn’t I?” His smile takes on a sharper edge then, turning into something truly sly. “Now do I get a reward for being such a good boy, nurse? You didn’t even have to tell me to stay still so I think that should earn me something in return.”

Quietly scoffing under your breath, you shoot him an unamused look. “What, like a lollipop? Are you still six years old, Ajax?”

“Aw, come on. Kiss it and make it better for me. You know you want to.”

You hardly wanted to do anything of the sort but at the roll of your eyes he merely arches his back with a playful wriggle to better present the flat plane of his stomach to you. The fact doing so clearly tugs at the skin, threatening to reopen the wound that looked like it had only just started to mend and scab over, fills you with a sickening sense of immediate dread.

“Stop that. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Not until you kiss it. Please, nurse, pleeaaase?”

You have half a mind to smack him for being such a spoiled brat even after all these years but you understood too well exactly how stubborn he could be. He really wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted and, seeing no other choice, you quickly swoop forward on your knees to place a lightning fast peck to the uninjured side of his stomach.

Ajax’s skin is smooth against your lips, rough hewn the way one would expect a man’s to be but somehow still soft with what you could only imagine were the lingering traces of leftover baby fat. It’s so slight that you’d easily overlooked it until now, and feeling it under your mouth sparks a flutter of nostalgic familiarity in your chest.

Suddenly finding yourself wishing for the childhood you’d spent growing up together, you ease back on your folded legs to peer up at him again.

“Happy?”

“Not quite,” he drawls, mischief twinkling in the bottomless depths of his eyes. “It still hurts a little bit, miss nurse. Can I have another?”

You narrow your eyes in warning, wondering what he thought he was playing at here. But knowing that he was injured and likely just soaking up the attention while he had it, you still relent and lean in again to deliver a quick peck to the side of his abdomen.

Drawing a slow, almost anticipatory breath, Ajax shifts slightly to nudge his hips just off the mattress as if in offering, or perhaps needy supplication. “Another? A little lower this time …”

A dull note of uncertainty curls through your gut as you glance at the top of his pants, trying to pinpoint what he hoped to get out of this. You didn’t understand it in the slightest, having never even entertained the notion of touching him in such a way before now, and yet you still find yourself obediently bending your head close to press your mouth to the vulnerable spot just under his navel …

Where you proceed to blow a loud raspberry against his skin, making Ajax jump as if you’d just sucker punched him.

“H - hey! What gives, you little - -“

“I think that’s more than enough for now.” You intone as you push back and climb to your feet with a prim huff for good measure, dragging your hands down the front of your humble, everyday dress to smooth out any wrinkles. “I’ve given you more than enough allowances for one day, I’d think. Now you need to get some rest.”

Ajax looks positively bewildered by this, sharply watching you bend to retrieve the basin as if he couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing. “You’re serious? You intend to leave me, just like that?”

Hesitating halfway through the motion of turning to walk away, you send him a confused look. “Like what? I’ve cleaned your wound for you. Do you need something else?”

A mirthless laugh punches out of him, making his shoulders droop slightly as he drops his chin to his chest as if in defeat. “Unbelievable. You really don’t get it, do you?”

“… get what?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” He says, groaning ever so softly as he straightens from his restless slouch, bringing a hand up to rub at his face. “We can talk about it later if you want. I think I should catch a nap though. I’m not in the best mood right now.”

Thinking that was an understatement given his extremely odd behavior, you start to turn away again. “Alright. Just yell if you need anything. While you’re sleeping I’ll see if I can’t scrounge up the ingredients for a poultice that I can put on your wound when I come to check on you later.”

“Sure, sure. I’ll be here.”

And on that decidedly strange note, you slip out into the hall with the basin hugged to your chest, gently closing the door behind you to a soft click from the inner mechanism. He’d changed a lot over the years since the two of you were kids but this was easily the most confounding development yet.

What a strange guy he was turning into.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It’s well after dark by the time you step inside the room again, carrying a large bowl of various supplies tucked in the bend of your arm while you hold up a softly swaying, glowing lantern with the other. You’d poked your head in a few times over the last few hours only to find him out like a light and softly snoring where he was sprawled out on his back atop the bed. Much to your chagrin, however, he was still fast asleep even now. But it was getting quite late into the night and although you’d hoped to avoid this you’d finally had no choice but to accept the fact you were just going to have to wake him up.

Hopefully he’d slept off his earlier mood, you think to yourself as you creep across the old floorboards, as silent as you can manage. Stopping next to the bed, you set the lantern down on the little dresser beside it to cast half of Ajax’s slack face in gloomy relief. He looks peaceful and blissfully still for once but his eyelids don’t even so much as twitch against the light.

You stand there and watch him for a prolonged moment, glad to see the even rise and fall of his chest rather than the labored breaths that might have indicated a fever was taking hold. Then you move to step around to the opposite side of the mattress, noting that he’d kicked off his boots at some point when you pass by his bare feet.

Crawling up onto the bed with your bowl, you momentarily set it aside next to your knee before leaning over his prone body to lightly touch his shoulder. Still he does not so much as stir though, so you give him a careful nudge.

“Ajax. Hey, wake up. I want to dress your wound for you.”

It takes another few coaxing jostles at his shoulder but at last a tight grimace spreads across his face, lashes fluttering with growing activity before he finally cracks his eyes open with a groggy, disoriented groan.

“Wha … where’mm I? Oh,” his searching gaze lands on you and he visibly relaxes into the sheets, allowing a sleepy half smile to pull at his mouth. “It’s kochanie. I remember now … I came knocking on your door just like when we were kids.”

“Yes, you did.” You give a solemn nod of agreement. “I’m sorry I had to wake you, but I managed to find enough herbs and dried plants to make a poultice. I’d like to apply it before the wound starts to fester but I didn’t want to startle you if you suddenly felt someone touching your stomach out of the blue.”

The grin that spreads across his face now is obviously mischievous but you can tell he’s still half asleep in the way he slowly lifts his nearest hand to lazily fling it across your lap. “I don’t think I’d mind waking up to you touching me very much. You’ve got a good bedside manner, miss nurse.”

“Well, thanks. And you’re not a bad patient to take care of, I guess.” Other than his curious mood swings that is.

Pointedly ignoring the way he idly twiddles with one of the buttons on the front of your dress, you grab the clean rag out of the bowl next to your knee. You’d already soaked it in distilled water, intending only to dampen the scabbing a little bit so the concoction could better do its job, and you carefully bring it down on his chest.

Using a light touch, you gently blot over the wound where the coagulated blood had started to truly harden and solidify. You’re a bit surprised to find that the wound was already closing up impressively well, and in seemingly record time at that, but he doesn’t keep his mouth shut long enough for you to further evaluate this discovery.

“Did I frighten you earlier, kochanie?”

You give him a quick, sidelong glance before focusing back on the wound again. “As if you even could. You were just being weird, that’s all. But I suppose that isn’t so out of the ordinary for you.”

Ajax snorts a quick laugh. “Something tells me those who I’ve faced on the battlefield would have a much different opinion of me. But I’m glad I didn’t scare you. Sleeping on it definitely helped clear my head.”

That makes you frown slightly. “What are you even talking about? I really don’t understand you sometimes.”

“Hmm. You'd like to know?”

“I think I’d appreciate some sort of explanation.”

Humming a soft sound of acknowledgement, Ajax seems to think it over for the next some odd minutes while you finish wetting his skin and set the rag aside to take up the smaller mortar bowl out of the larger one. Giving its contents a quick stir and a final press with the pestle to make sure everything is ground sufficiently, you start to apply it to the wound in a thin yet thorough layer.

“That stuff reeks.” He grumbles, scrunching up his nose.

“Maybe so, but it was the best I could do to try and keep you from getting an infection since you didn’t want to see a doctor. Just bear with it until I get the bandages on and that should help with the smell.”

You don’t mention that the ‘bandages’ were old sheets you’d ripped up into strips while he was sleeping, having had no choice when you’d discovered that you really were out of even the most basic first aid supplies. Once your father sent this month's meager army wages home you’d make sure to stock up on what you could just in case Ajax decided to make a habit of this.

But he doesn’t complain any further while you work over him and for that you’re quite grateful, not being well practiced enough to do this with a bunch of distractions pulling your attention away. He even stays perfectly still for you when you begin to lay out the shorter strips of cloth over his chest and abdomen, lightly pressing to keep the dressing in place. He just silently watches you the whole time with a particular sort of interest reflected in his eyes.

Finally deeming it sufficient some minutes later, you sit back to admire your handiwork. “There. How does that feel?”

“Awful.”

You give your tongue a bothered click. “Ajax - -“

“Have you ever given yourself to a man before?”

Starting at the abrupt question, you turn a horrified look upon him. “What? What sort of thing is that to ask?”

“A perfectly reasonable thing, in my opinion. After all, we’re in bed together right now and I’m even half undressed already but you don’t seem to care one way or another about any of it. And earlier … you were kneeling at my feet, kochanie, yet you acted like you didn’t understand what I was doing.”

You hesitate at that. “… and what were you doing?”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” He scoffs quietly. “I’m a man, you’re a woman. What do you think I was doing? Surely you’re not that oblivious.”

More confused than ever now, your mind races a mile a minute as you try to make any sense of what he’s saying. At first it just doesn’t click, your lived experiences so far removed from the intimacy of relationships and bedding that most of your peers were all too eager to join in on that it just doesn’t even occur to you as a possibility. But then you abruptly realize what he’s insinuating, what he’d meant by being man and woman, and your face positively blazes.

“Y - you … do you really think of me that way, Ajax?”

“Of course I do.” He says as if that should have been the most obvious thing in the world, and maybe to him it was. “Why shouldn’t I? You’re beautiful and smart, fierce in your own right. I’ve thought about having you for a long time now and I’ve wanted you for even longer than that. Are you going to reject me, kochanie?”

“Well — no, not necessarily, but - -“

“Then why didn’t you show any interest in me earlier? Why don’t you show any now?”

Your head dizzingly swims. Not only did you have no idea how to answer that when you didn’t even really understand it yourself, but the thought of telling him that you just … simply never had those kinds of thoughts about anyone did not seem to be the kind of response he was looking for here. On the one hand you could be truthful, awkwardly try to explain your perspective on things and likely make an even bigger fool out of yourself than you already have, or you could try to go along with it, for his sake.

Because you did have feelings for Ajax once everything was said and done, just not — those specific ones.

“I’m sorry.” You impulsively blurt before you can think any better of it. “I guess I’m just … easily embarrassed. We’ve known each other for such a long time now, I thought … I didn’t realize - -“

“Do you want me as I want you?” He cuts across, soft yet demanding in his search for a sufficient answer.

Unfortunately you really aren’t sure how to give him that, and you quickly grab for the bowl so you can get up and put some much needed space between the two of you. “L - let’s talk about this later. You still need to rest, and I bet you must be starving by now. I made porridge earlier, I can bring - -“

His hand is suddenly on your elbow, halting you when you’ve only made it halfway through the motion of climbing off the bed, and without any further ado he physically yanks you back into him.

With a startled yelp you fall against his bare shoulder and the bowl of supplies slips from your fingers at some point in the rush, sliding to the rumpled sheets where it’s almost immediately forgotten. Wide eyed and tense, you whip your attention towards his face even as you bring your hands up to push yourself off. But he only grins at you, smirking, for all intents and purposes, and you don’t quite manage to wriggle free quickly enough before he loops his powerful arm across your back to lock you in place.

“Ajax - -“

“Nuh-uh. You’re not leaving until you give me my reward.”

“Wha - … what do you want?”

“A kiss.” He says, dropping his gaze to your lips where it lingers for a prolonged beat before he slowly drags those eyes of deepest ocean back up to yours. “On the mouth this time. Kiss me, kochanie. Please?”

Slowly balling your hands into fists against his chest, you peer into Ajax’s face for a long stretch that seems to bleed into eternity. “I don’t understand what that’s supposed to accomplish.”

“It’ll make me feel better, for starters. You don’t want to see me suffering and in pain do you?”

“… no.”

“Then do it. Come on. Just one little kiss. For me?”

You hesitate to heed his wishes, not exactly repulsed by the thought of putting your mouth on his but just — unenthusiastic about the act. You’d seen plenty of people kiss before and had never felt a stirring or the desire to experience it for yourself, and in truth you hadn’t thought he would be interested in such things either. Maybe that was naive of you though, in retrospect. He was still a man, just as he’d said, and you were still … a woman. So did that mean this was only inevitable? Something you were destined for even if you felt no real yearning for that sort of physical intimacy?

It’s a strange feeling that settles in your gut but, silently reminding yourself that this was for his sake, you cautiously lean down to just brush your lips against his. The sensation doesn’t elicit much of any response at all within your body and you move to pull away, but Ajax is quick to tighten his arm around your back and pin you there.

Whimpering softly when he leans up into you, starting to kiss you with a low, breathy sigh through his nose, you stiffly hold yourself against him while he pecks at your lips in what was clearly meant to be a coaxing manner. It doesn’t work though and you almost feel a little bad about that. Especially when in spite of your inexperience you can still tell that he was far more practiced than you would have ever thought to give him credit for.

It seems like a waste on you, someone who doesn’t even truly want it and therefore can’t appreciate what he’s doing, yet you make no effort to slap him away.

The why of it is a mystery to you but you can tell he’s pleased by your acquiescence in the way he hums a faint sound into your mouth, tilting his head slightly to better work his lips against yours. It takes you an embarrassingly long moment to realize what he’s trying to do, to understand that he wanted you to open up and let him in, but you eventually yield to this too, forcing the muscles in your jaw to relax.

Feeling the slackening of your mouth, Ajax wastes no time deepening the kiss and he swipes his tongue out to drag a wet line over the soft seam. That does manage to register as a displeasing sensation, prompting you to finally turn away and disengage from him.

But his hand is suddenly in the back of your hair, fisting it close to the roots to hold you in place. A squawk of protest rises in your throat as you finally give his chest a weak shove but he’s an unbudging force against you, taking the chance you've inadvertently given him to spear his tongue deep inside your mouth. You screw your eyes shut and squirm in place while he takes his time exploring you, flickering over your teeth and your tongue, trying to ignore just how unappealing this really is in your mind.

You cared for him deeply, perhaps more than anyone else in the world, but this … it was far beyond the pale.

Moments later when he finally draws back of his own accord to look at you with a heavy lidded, almost dreamy expression on his face, you quickly reach up to wipe the spit from your mouth. He watches you do it with a growing smile, barking a sharp laugh at the way your nose wrinkles in distaste.

“What, you didn’t like it? You were fidgeting an awful lot for me to believe that.”

You don’t know how to tell him that it hadn’t been a positive response so you don’t bother, simply settling on, “I didn’t realize you were going to be so messy about it.”

“Well, can you really blame me for that?” Dropping his tone down to a rather seductive drawl, Ajax casually readjusts his hand to curl around the nape of your neck in a clearly possessive gesture. “Just look at you, kochanie. You’re so sweet and plump, like a ripe cherry turnip waiting to be plucked and eaten at the kitchen table. I could make an entire meal out of you, y’know. And I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that I always clean my plate.”

You can’t help the way you reel back from him as far as his hand will allow, completely disarmed by what he was saying. “You’ve turned into a fiend! What have they been teaching you at the palace? If your mother ever heard the way you’re speaking - -“

“And she won’t hear of it. Ever. I’m serious, you’d better not go tattling on me like we’re still on the playground.”

The sharpness in his tone, that demand for compliance, cuts through your apprehension like a knife through warm butter, and you just look at him — really look at him for a long, drawn out moment.

And it hits you all at once that he was right. Neither of you were children anymore and you couldn’t keep treating this situation like nothing at all had changed over the long years. You’d been a fool to still look at him the same way you did when the two of you were seven, nine, twelve or even sixteen years old. He was a man now, well and truly, and in hindsight you weren’t entirely sure how you’d ever overlooked that fact.

Because you can see it clearly in his jawline, the shape of his face, and the muscular definition across his chest. His biceps and tight abdominals, very likely what had saved him from being eviscerated. There was still room for him to grow and fill out some more, of course, and you didn’t doubt that he would as he continued to train and grow stronger. But there would be no denying that the Ajax in front of you was no longer the same boy you’d grown up with. You weren’t exactly strangers to each other, yet …

“Fine. I won’t say anything. Can you let me go now? I’d like to go to bed at some point.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. I don’t think I’m quite finished with you yet.” He murmurs, back to smiling and perfectly at ease again. “I’ve waited so long to have you to myself, kochanie … and my wound still hurts so badly. Think you can help me out a little more?”

You very nearly tell him no, certain more than ever that you didn’t want to keep playing this game with him, but despite all of your misgivings, no matter how much you didn’t care for any of it, you still feel compelled to give in and bend to his will. He was your oldest friend, after all. You didn’t want to see him suffering or in pain, and you certainly didn’t want him to think you no longer cared for him either.

It seemed you really had no choice in the matter.

“What do you want? Another kiss?”

“That would be nice.” Pausing, he meaningfully flicks his gaze towards your chest. “And maybe you could let me see those gorgeous tits of yours?”

Equal amounts fluster and shock creep up your neck, and you impulsively swat at his shoulder with a quick hand. “Don’t call them that! You’re so vulgar now!”

Chuckling a breathy sound, clearly unperturbed, Ajax lifts his opposite hand to reach for your front where he deftly latches on to the topmost button on your dress to fiddle it open. You suck in a sharp gasp and try to pull back, already slapping at his fingers, but the palm around your neck stops you from making it very far. Despite your halfhearted protests he easily manages to get the first one undone and he reaches for the second even as you anxiously grab at the material to hold it closed. No one had seen you naked since you were a child, not since you first entered puberty and your body started to morph right before your very eyes, and you’d always assumed that would never change.

It seemed unnatural in your mind to be looked at in a state so vulnerable and bare, especially when it was Ajax who was doing the looking, but your attempts to fight him off are cursory at best. He seems to realize this, sensing that your heart just wasn’t in it, because he keeps unbuttoning your dress until the front of it is hanging open almost straight down to your waist.

Eagerly, he slips that groping, searching hand inside to slide it across your ribcage where he can squeeze at plushy love handles. Feeling overwhelmed and far removed from your comfort zone, you merely whimper a frazzled little sound when he tugs you closer, bringing your chest nearer to his face. Reaching up, you press against his temple to halt him, further mussing the fringe of hair that was already disheveled from sleep, but he merely brings his hand up to grab your wrist and tug it away.

“C’mon,” he murmurs, dipping his head down to kiss at the center of your chest. “Don’t be like that. You want to help me, don’t you?”

“I … I do, but …”

Groaning a heated sound against your skin, Ajax nuzzles into the swell of your breasts, not unlike a babe seeking warmth and comfort, as he uses his hold on you to direct your hand lower. You realize what he’s doing at the last moment and try to pull away but it’s no use. His grip is as good as iron, and there’s nothing you can do about it when he presses your fingers into the front of his pants. The sensation of something firm, hot and seeking, makes your stomach lurch with renewed apprehension.

“Wait! I can’t - -“

“Relax. I’m not going to rush into this when you obviously have no idea what you’re doing and I’m not exactly in the best shape to do all the work right now either.” Pausing, he turns his head to nip at the meat of one breast, teeth sinking into the bountiful flesh for but a moment before quickly replacing them with a soothing kiss. “But I wasn’t exaggerating or lying when I said this would help me feel better. All that adrenaline, the rush of a good fight … I don’t think you understand what it does to a man. And then to come here seeking shelter only to see you looking so damn soft and inviting on your doorstep. I don’t just want you, I need you, kochanie.”

He groans a rough, rumbling sound of anticipation then, his excitement mounting quickly as he adjusts the position of his hand to clasp it over yours. Manually, he closes your fingers around him through the material of his slacks to make you grip it and you respond with a stilted gasp. You’d never felt anything like it before, had never thought to know what touching a man there would be like, but he appears a bit too pleased by your touch for you to tell him off.

Mistaking your silent acquiescence for something it’s not, he quickly releases you in favor of reaching up to fumble with his belt. You watch him work it open with a sense of detachment, as if you weren’t fully in your own body at the moment. Of course you understood on some level where this was going, what he was aiming for, and yet you have no idea how to get out of it now that it’s already escalated this far.

All you can do is swallow around the rock wedged in your throat when he stiffly shifts atop the bed to make the old springs creak, hooking a blunt thumb into the waistband of his underwear as he lifts his hips. A quick tug and a shimmy pulls his clothes far enough down his narrow thighs for him to then reach inside and pull himself out.

And you just stare at it when it pops up into the air, all galvanized steel and sinfully smooth flesh, the unmarred perfection of it interrupted only by the occasional vein you can make out just under the skin. You’re not sure if you should be impressed or intimidated by it but he snags at your lax fingers, grabbing them again before you can decide.

“Like this.” He murmurs, guiding your hand around his cock and making you grip it, the sensation of skin on skin startling you slightly.

Firmly, he drags your hold up along the length of him to make the foreskin at the tip briefly bunch before pulling down to the starting point at the base once again. The glide of his fist over yours is so sure and confident that you quickly pick up on what he wants you to do, thinking if it was just massaging him like this then you could probably handle that much. This didn’t seem so bad, all things considered.

Clearly sensing your reluctant acceptance, Ajax carefully removes his hand from yours, letting it hover over your knuckles for a brief moment while you awkwardly fumble through another series of tugs at his length, completely on your own this time. The motion of your hand is not nearly as practiced as his had been but he still hums a low sound of approval before sliding his fingers lower, dipping between his legs to gently squeeze at himself.

You try not to look at it too hard though, silently praying for him to finish fast so you can put this whole thing behind you and be done with it. The only thought that gives you any amount of comfort in that moment is that at least he seemed to be enjoying himself. His breathing shallows out and deepens, his hips lazily flexing up into the grip of your fist, and you don’t try to stop it when he brings his hand up to impatiently yank at the front of your dress again.

Closing your eyes, you try to focus on the rhythm you’ve settled into while he paws at your breast through the thin slip underneath. It’s the only thing still standing in the way but all it takes is a good pull at the soft cotton and your heavy tit spills out right in front of his face with a muted bounce.

The harried noise you whimper is promptly swallowed up and lost under the masculine groan he gives in response, the sound mirrored in the heavy twitch of his cock. You have but a split second to think maybe you will try to put a stop to this after all, unsure if you could really go through with it, and then his long fingers are sinking into the meat of your breast to lift and give it a fascinated jostle.

“Look at you, kochanie. When did you grow such beautiful tits, huh? I can’t believe you’ve been hiding these from me this entire time.”

“Please, Ajax … stop talking.”

He snickers a quiet laugh at that, offering your breast a tight squeeze to make the nipple puff up as if — as if he were trying to encourage milk to squirt out of you.

“Why should I? You’ve clearly never heard it from anyone else so you should at least hear it from me. You’ve got the body of a fertility goddess. Looking like this, it’s a wonder you don’t have all those spineless men and boys from the village banging down your door to get at you everyday. Have you been saving yourself for me by any chance?”

“N - no …”

��Ooh, that hurts my feelings, you know. But it’s okay. You can be honest with me. There’s no room left for secrets between us, is there?” Adjusting his hand to cup around the underside of your breast, he leans in close to tauntingly flick his tongue over the pebbled peak. Back and forth, back and forth for a prolonged moment to ensure it was nice and stiff before at last sealing his mouth around the areola and suckling.

You pull in a harsh, seething hiss, struggling to keep your hand moving on his cock but it’s hard. It’s so very hard when you were torn between natural aversion to what he was doing to you and somber resignation of your fate. Especially when, glancing down at him through the heavy fall of your lashes, you find that rather than any feeling of high strung arousal he only reminds you of a nursing babe latched to your breast like this. There are no curling notes of desire, no heat, no excitement on your part. Only a sense of obligation that isn’t entirely comfortable but one you understand to be a necessary evil. If this was what was needed to care for him as a man then …

“Does that — feel good?” You warble hesitantly, and he releases you teat with a dull pop to tip his head back, groaning up at the ceiling.

“Yesss. You’re doing such a good job, kochanie … you can tighten your fingers, if you want. Don’t worry about hurting me. You won’t, trust me.”

Gathering your resolve, you heed his advice and close your fist around him more firmly, pumping him with the full force of your arm now even when it makes the muscles start to ache in protest. You just wanted to end this quickly, to see to his needs and then go back to your normal life where you didn’t have to think about or do such things.

And the effort seems to pay off, for his hips give a sensitive little lurch under your ministrations and he moans a heady sound, giving a full bodied twitch at the vigorous stimulation. His head lolling almost drunkenly on the pillow, Ajax peers up at you with a distant, hazy look in his eyes while his hand continues to idly fondle your breast, as if he just couldn’t help himself.

You take his abrupt silence as a good sign though, relentlessly working him over until his breathing soon becomes labored and harsh. His flat stomach expands and contracts rather dramatically now as he tips his locked pelvis up into your hand, shuddering faintly with what you sorely hoped were warning tremors. He doesn’t even seem to be aware of the injury across his abdomen anymore, but you don’t want him overexerting himself and risk reopening the miraculously stitched wound, so you persist even when your arm starts to feel like it might fall off.

“Oohn! Kochanie, I’m - -“ He suddenly blurts, back bowing dramatically against the bed when he jolts as if you’d given him a good zap of static electricity.

For a split second it almost alarms you and you’re not sure what’s happening — but then you feel his cock give a violent spasm in your hand and you watch, completely mystified, as it erupts in a sudden spray of white. That milky jet arcs up into the air where gravity quickly forces it back down to splatter harmlessly across the bandages plastered over the center of his body. Another healthy glob quickly follows, landing just short of the first, and his length aggressively pulses with the last of his spend as it bubbles out of the center slit to slowly ooze down the shaft.

Quickly withdrawing your hand before that sticky mess can touch you, you turn your attention to Ajax’s flushed face, noting that he still seemed to be reeling from the rush of his release. Deciding to take advantage of this opportunity while he was still trying to recover, you duck and slip out from under his arm. The fact he lets you do it comes as a great relief and you rush to stand up from the bed before he can stop you again.

Damn him.

“Wait. Don’t go.”

Fumbling to get your dress buttoned up again, you glance over your shoulder at him. “I have to. I need to wash my hands, for starters, and you still need to get some more rest. You should be satisfied with this, right? I … I gave you what you wanted.”

You certainly hoped he wasn’t going to ask any more of you than that but, to your surprise, he merely gives a slow, satiated stretch across the bed, looking for all the world like a pampered feline. A large, dangerously powerful one, but as harmless as a kitten when his appetite was sated. He doesn’t even seem to feel any shame about his nudity or his now flaccid cock where it was resting along his belly, spent. The exact opposite of you, in fact, and you can’t help bristling slightly at the way he grins up at you as if all was right in the world and nothing was amiss.

“And you did such a good job, kochanie. Thank you. I don’t feel quite so on edge now, I should be able to get some much better sleep this time. But I still want you to stay, even if we don’t do anything else tonight.”

“I don’t see why.” You huff, letting some of your displeasure show. “You’ve already gotten what you wanted from me.”

Ajax tsk’s very softly, pushing halfway up on one elbow to level you with a mildly bothered frown. “You make it sound like I was only using you for my own ends. I’d be happy to return the favor if that’s what you want.”

“As if I even would!” Hissing, you snatch the bowl of supplies from the bed and make a beeline for the door.

He tries to stop you, of course, calling out again for you to wait, but you don’t pause long enough to listen to anything else he might have to say. You can’t. Not when it felt like he’d just thrown a wrench in everything you thought you’d ever known about him and your relationship with each other, the once comfortable dynamic you’d shared. How were you possibly supposed to go back to normal and look him in the face as if nothing at all had transpired between the two of you this night? You really didn’t know. You weren’t even sure if it was feasible to hope for it at this point.

But you were willing to sit on it, let the situation blow over and settle in the back of your mind so both of you could move on from this and return to what you were used to. You just hoped he was willing to do the same.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The chirping of early morning birds is what awakens you from the restless half slumber you’d finally drifted off to after tossing and turning for what had felt like hours. You hadn’t gotten much rest at all, you’re immediately cognizant of this fact before you even open your eyes, but a new day was already starting. Time truly waited for no one and you’d soon have to get up. Aside from everything else that had to be done around the cottage, you needed to check on Ajax to make sure you hadn’t waited too long to apply the poultice and an infection wasn’t moldering the wound but …

This thought only fills you with sinking uncertainty, and you grumpily turn over to put your back to the window in your bedroom so you can snuggle down into the warm sheets again. You had half a mind to forsake him, leave the idiot to his own devices for the day so you could sleep in and recover from that frankly harrowing experience the night before.

But in shifting around you're abruptly made aware of the fact that you were not alone. At first it only registers as a distant suggestion of another’s presence there with you in your bed and then you feel the dull warmth of body heat, noticeable in the Snezhnayan chill.

Panic grips you in an instant and your eyes fly open, suddenly wide awake as you give a startled little jerk. Your vision positively swims with the immediate rush of sensory input that hits you all at once, the surge of adrenaline that slams into you like a solid brick, but a muscle chorded arm wraps around you to stop you from going very far.

There’s no question who it is yet you still gape up at him in disbelief as you furiously blink the remaining sleep from your eyes.

“Ajax! What are you doing in here?” You demand, pressing your balled up hands into his chest and shoving.

He’s just as unbudgable as he’d been last night though and he merely smiles down at you in casual greeting. As if this was the most normal thing for him to be doing, as if he belonged in your bed and he hadn’t selfishly invaded it for his own bullheaded desires. You weren’t sure if you should laugh or cry at the blatant audacity.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, kochanie. Don’t look so mad! I only wanted to make it up to you for last night, that’s all. Just relax.”

Tense and halting, you warily peer up into his face. “Make what up to me? How?”

Shrugging a broad shoulder — still bare, you can’t help but notice — he offers the soft love handles on your side a reassuring squeeze, making you whimper at the sensation of how easy it is for him to grab at you. His hands were so big …

“It seemed to me that you were under the impression I only wanted to take, not give anything in return. That wasn’t fair of me, was it? I want you to feel good too.”

“You can’t.” You insist, fighting the urge to start squirming. Massaging him to completion was one thing. It had been easy to remain a distant bystander, watching yourself go through the motions from somewhere else, but to be on the receiving end would rob you of even that much.

“I can.” He shoots right back, as stubborn as ever and effortlessly matching your intensity tit for tat.

You draw a sharp breath to snap at him with but the words catch in your throat when he somewhat aggressively nudges his pelvis into you, poking at your hip with the unmistakable jab of another erection. Eyes going round as saucers, you blurt a disbelieving sound in his face.

“You want to go again?” You gasp, trying to wrap your head around how he even had the energy for another round so soon after the first. It just didn’t make sense to you. You’d thought that would have been more than enough to tide him over for a good while, not a mere few hours.

Ajax merely cocks a brow at you though, as if you were the one with the problem here and not him. “I’m not sure if you’re underestimating me or if you really just don’t understand how men are, but of course I want to. You’re so lovely, kochanie, and I want you all to myself. Every time I look at you, these gorgeous curves,”

His hand on your back drops down to curl over your ass, squeezing you through the flimsy material of your nightgown to make you squeak a harried sound.

“I can’t help but want to sink myself inside you as far as I can go. Do you even have any idea how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about you? How hard you make me even when I’m hundreds of miles away and I couldn’t touch you like this even if I wanted to?”

“A - Ajax …”

“You said you wouldn’t reject me.” He goes on, insistent and demanding in the way he grabs at your body to gather you tightly against him.

The strength in just his arm alone is absolute and there's nothing you can do to stop him from pressing you into his body, forcing your softer frame to mould to the hard contours of his front. This strikes you as exceedingly odd though, given the state he’d been in yesterday when he first appeared at your door, and your reeling mind disarmingly stumbles over this revelation. There should have been no way he could have naturally healed up that quickly from such a wound, even if it was not near as bad as it could have been. He’d barely been able to stand up straight without groaning in pain but then how —

“Touch me, kochanie.” He murmurs, snapping you out of it with that heated, low growl of wanting. “Just like last time. Please. Put your hand on me, stroke me. Make me cum for you again, moja miłość. I’ll show you how, as many times as you need, okay?”

Ignoring the faint whimper that slips out of you, Ajax presses his forehead to yours in an affectionate nuzzle, those bottomless eyes intently locked on you from only a hair’s breadth away. You think to fight it, desperately wanting your space and your peace of mind back, but just like with everything else you find yourself reluctantly giving in. Simply to placate or to earnestly please him, you’re not sure which.

Yet you still hesitantly slip your hand under the haphazardly twisted blanket, fingers skirting down his chest and over the smooth expanse of makeshift bandages. You don’t even have to search for it when you can clearly feel his cock digging into your hip, and you wrap that hot, pulsing girth in a loose fist, eyebrows lifting when you find him completely nude. He must have crawled into your bed naked, the shameless fiend.

He hums a quiet sound of appreciation though, sounding lazy and indulgent in your ear as he hooks his broad hand around the pudge of your thigh, pulling it forward to drape over his waist. The motion spreads your legs apart, leaving you vulnerable and defenseless, and you mewl an overwhelmed noise when he reaches back around to dip his fingers into that warm space. You’re still not quite sure how he's managed to remain so keen and eager despite having already done this once before, but as always you just can’t seem to tell him no.

And when he touches you, carefully feeling along the slit in your body, you screw your eyes shut against the sensation. Those rough, battle worn callouses drag at delicate skin as he threads them through the coarse hair padding your cunt, undeterred, until he reaches the starting point at the top of your mound.

Gently, almost uncharacteristically so, he starts to rub you there, moving the flats of his fingers in a small half circle, coaxing the nerves to respond to him. You’re more than just a bit horrified when it works and a dull thrum comes to life between your thighs, tingling warmly in response to his ministrations. It frightens you, as alarming as it is unexpected, and you halfheartedly try to pull away from him with a small squeak.

“Shh, shh. It’s alright, kochanie.” He consolingly coos at you, tipping his head to give your nose, your cheek a series of fleetingly brief kisses. “I’ve got you. Don’t be scared. Just copy what I’m doing, alright? I’m not going to hurt you.”

You give a full bodied shudder, tucking in close to bury your face in his neck and hide from him. And he allows it rather than pushing you or demanding more, docking his chin against the crown of your head with another low murmur of reassurance.

As the seconds tick by in this manner, with the two of you tangled up and twisted together in your bed so thoroughly you start to forget where one of you stops and the other begins, you find that this, this intimate closeness with him, is not so bad after all. In fact, you rather liked it. The smell of him was deeply familiar to you and it swarms your senses now, drowning out everything else, and his intense body heat an old comfort. It almost reminds you of when you were children, the best of friends sharing a blanket together in front of the fire at his home. You wanted this, craved it more than anything else, you think, but the touching …

Perhaps this was just a necessary tradeoff for that happiness, an inevitability that came with your individual lots in life. And maybe someday you could even come to like doing these sorts of things with him, even if today was not that day.

Because his fingers are sure and confident where they continue to caress over that frustratingly receptive bundle of nerves and you can feel your body slowly coming around to it even if your mind still wasn’t quite in agreement. It could feel good if you let it and if it made Ajax happy to do these things then you wanted to make him feel good too.

So you shyly curl your hand to cup around the tip of his cock where you can follow his lead, lightly rubbing him the same way he rubs you. Your motions are unsure and faltering at first, but at his breathy sound of approval you gradually start to find some of your confidence. The head of him must be sensitive then, you think, just like your cunt.

“That’s good,” he whispers to you, warm breath ghosting over the hair on the top of your head. “Do you feel that sticky stuff? Smear it over me, like this.”

Showing you what he wants, he slides his hand higher up your labia until he can press in slightly on your entrance. A curling note of surprise flashes through your mind when his fingers come back slick, drawing that faint wetness out of you to spread it across your plump lips. You’re not sure what to make of it, what to think, but you mimic him anyway, drawing your palm over his length to leave that clinging gossamer consistency on his skin.

You distantly recognize it for what it is, the physical manifestation of his excitement for you, and you wonder idly at your own response to what he’s doing. In truth you still didn’t feel particularly eager to have him in this manner and yet …

The proof is oozing out of you, slicking your cunt completely against your will. A part of you finds it hard to believe he’s really just that talented with his fingers when you very much doubted anyone else could have netted the same results even if you’d given them an entire day to work at it.

It must just be him then, you decide, and the closeness you'd always shared. That’s the only explanation — and you suck in a stilted breath when he lays his fingers flat over your seam, reaching almost front to back with the length of his hand as he settles in to rub you with long, drawn out strokes now.

That fleshy friction makes you feel strangely dizzy but you remembered this from last night, the way he’d manually closed your fist around him and guided you through the motion. It’s a real struggle when you could hardly think straight anymore, but you force yourself to take him in hand again, matching the same pace and rhythm that he’s set for you.

“Oohhn, that’s perfect, kochanie. Just like that. You’re doing so good for me. So soft, so warm …”

Rumbling a masculine sound of ratcheting arousal, he shifts against you to work his other arm underneath your body. It almost manages to startle you, having not realized he’d been able to keep one hand to himself this entire time which was so unlike him, in retrospect, but you don’t even pretend to fight it when he pulls you up to lay half on top of him with your breasts pressed to his chest.

You try to redistribute your weight though, worried about hurting his wound, but he keeps you firmly locked in place no matter how you try to adjust yourself. Going still with a mild click of your tongue, you peer into his face, reminding yourself to keep tugging at his cock in the tight space between your bodies. You were slowly becoming more accustomed to the gesture although your arm quickly begins to ache again, but it was decidedly well worth it getting to see him like this.

He looked pleasure struck and almost intoxicated, his expression pinched with arousal, and yet he still finds the wherewithal to grin up at you when he catches your attention on him.

“What? Did you think you were too heavy for me?”

“You’re injured.” You mutter, embarrassed, but he only shakes his head.

“Doesn’t matter. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t hurt me. I told you that last night, didn’t I? You’d better not forget … I’m not some simple farm boy from the country. I can handle you just fine.”

Unfortunately you weren’t yet sure if you could handle him, but you were willing to learn as you fumbled your way through this confounding situation together. As long as he was happy then you could be happy too. Probably. It was worth a shot, at least, and you slowly lower your face to his, hovering just above his parted lips.

You weren’t certain if you wanted to take that plunge on your own just yet though, so you merely look into his eyes instead. So pretty for as unusual as they were. “Just tell me if you change your mind and I’ll get off. You don’t have to push yourself for my sake.”

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere,” he says, grinning a devious smile when he pinches you tight. “You’re staying right here with me and I’m not going anywhere either so you’d better get comfortable. You know I have a lot of lost time to make up for and plenty to teach you too.”

That earns him a roll of your eyes and a tired huff. Somehow you got the feeling that the two of you were going to end up spending most of the day in this bed but, strangely enough, that didn’t sound so terrible anymore. You could live with it, at least.

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #childe tartaglia ajax #childe x reader #self insert bullshit

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graveantics · 1 month ago

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Read my mind (and heart)

A drabble i made back in march about a mind reading!reader and a pathetic yearning loser childe

*italics for thoughts

"You're avoiding me."

You do nothing but avoid his eye contact, trying to let go of the grip he has on you. But he noticed and tightens his grip Don't run away from me again.

"....I've been busy." No you haven't.

"No you haven't." Oh hey that's what you just thought.

"Did...You find out..? Is that why you're avoiding me?" he looks at you. Do you hate the idea of me being in love with you that much.

His thoughts stab into your guilty conscience. "I..Um. May have known from the beginning." Silence from Childe's end. However not very similar, are his thoughts.

How!? Did Xiao tell them. Was I really that obvious. DID HE TELL THEM ABOUT THE SONGS—

"Please stop thinking." He blinks at your words. His normally crowded mind is finally quiet since the first time you met him. "Xiao didn't tell me anything, and you weren't too obvious." Childe's brows are furrowed, you watch his expression shift from shock to understanding as he puts the pieces together. "Did you...read my mind...?"

This time it's your turn to be silent. You only nod, with eyes averted away. The overwhelming guilt that you've held since developing this power envelops you.

"I'm really sorry, it's incredibly intrusive of me. And I don't really know how to NOT do it so I couldn't help it. I understand if you think it's freaky of me to be knowing your secrets—"

I told my friends I'd gladly write a 5000 word essay on how beautiful you are when you smile.

"W..What?"

I bought clothes online that are couples special because I imagine us wearing them on dates

"Childe!"

I didn't come in on Valentine's day because i got so excited about giving you chocolates, That I couldn't sleep the whole night and passed out till noon.

"YOU WHAT?"

"You really can read my mind." Childe finally speaks.

"You tested me by airing out all your embarrassing secrets? You really have no shame Childe."

He only grins at that, with red visibly tinting his cheeks It is embarrassing, so much that I want to bury myself alive. But that means you know how serious I am about you. He grabs your hand, it's warm. The sound of his heart and real voice overlaps.

"I wouldn't be able to hide it from you forever. I like you a lot, [name]."

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metranart · 1 month ago

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🔞➡️ And then this happened...

#kusuriya no hitorigoto #the apothecary diaries #mao mao #jinshi #maomao x jinshi #maomao #jinshi x maomao #fanart #jinmao #artists on tumblr #digital art #apothecary diaries #anime #anime and manga #manga

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genshin-scenarios · 2 months ago

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across the spiderverse!

Summary: We’re back with more guys in the Spiderverse AU! For more like this but different characters, check out my previous Spiderverse parts one and two! My pinned post also has more about Lyney’s route if that’s your thing.

Characters: Childe, Albedo, Scaramouche, Dahlia

Warnings: Reference to details of Scaramouche and Albedo’s lore, but otherwise no large spoilers! Very brief mentions of injuries, kidnapping, human experimentation, blood drinking (vampires) and surgeries. (It sounds bad but this post is safe for general/teen audiences I promise.)

Childe

Your life as Spiderman is pretty uneventful until the masked villain Tartaglia shows up in town — around the same time a new cutie is enrolled in your highschool (completely coincidental, you’re sure)

Childe’s villain persona, Tartaglia, is basically his Foul Legacy form (and a version of the ‘Green Goblin’ in your world, flying around and causing explosions). ‘Tartaglia’ kind of takes over Childe’s mind and he isn’t completely in control of it — leading to wreckage in the city and general chaos that the regular him probably wouldn’t like.

On the bright side, even Tartaglia draws the line at harming children! One time, you see a mix of headlines on the news: ‘Tartaglia attacks’ to ‘Supervillain protects kids?’

Childe fell into the abyss during his childhood (yes, it exists even in this modern AU) and gained an unknown power that turns him into Tartaglia! After some time he gets a hold on his persona, though, so your villain x hero fights slowly grow into something he’s more conscious for.

Anyways! Childe is also your new classmate who’s taken a liking to you from day one (call it instinct or whatever, but he could feel that you were something special.)

Later on, your bond is less determined by your superhero and supervillain statuses, but more on how you’re both not quite human. Childe feels less alone and dangerous around you — and what can be better than having the love of his life beat his other self into submission keep his alter ego in check? The main thing he worries about is doing irreversible damage, so technically speaking this is a very romantic and ideal life you’ve got!

Ah, but backtracking to how you reveal your identities: …Well, Tartaglia kidnapped you once, for the purposes of a date. (Do not try this at home.) During which you found out that it was Childe behind that mask and was so surprised that you called him by his legal name (“Wait, don’t scream! It’s just me!” “Ajax?!”)

At this point, he has a handle over ‘Tartaglia’ enough that he’s just acting like his usual self (save for his freakish strength and agility). Childe explains that he wasn’t planning on kidnapping you (just daydreaming about it) but sensed something dangerous was around → turns out he wasn’t being delusional and it was a Doc-Oc spying on you situation (Dottore), which will become more relevant in Season 2 (stay tuned!)

During this impromptu kidnapping-date you have an entire crisis because sure you had a crush on Childe but this is crazy! Are you supposed to just pretend this never happened the next time you’re Spiderman?

A few weeks later Childe gets injured really badly from a fight (abyss creatures came out of some rifts and Tartaglia unexpectedly cleared them out before you) — so you end up taking him in for medical treatment because, well, the police would otherwise unmask him, and even though Tartaglia was annoying he never did anything unforgivable. And you’d still like the chance of potentially dating him if this works out.

There’s a whole arc of you bonding throughout his recovery, resting in your room and hiding him from your family and friends (his injuries are too severe to make excuses for.) But now that both your identities are revealed Childe feels like a fool because damn, he really did just reveal his identity to his ‘rival’ all because of a crush (to be fair, he didn’t care for the secret identity thing too much in the first place.)

You learn that Tartaglia was a type of self-defense mechanism that developed from when he fell into the Abyss. When placed in a regular modern world however, his instincts to fight for survival still linger.

—Yet all things considered, this could’ve ended really differently if you just decided to turn him in: ‘You must’ve found me really cute, huh? Was it my boyish charm?’ ‘No, it was your cyclops mask’ ‘...Now I see that spider-snark.’

Tartaglia would still cause trouble on occasion and you’d be the one to reel him in (just a little less violently than usual, though Childe does request for you to ‘treat him rougher’ at times. And you don’t know how to respond because whacking him on the head is just giving him what he wants.)

Sometimes you have encounters that are more akin to playfights, and whenever Childe does get the upper hand and cages you in, leaning close… you realise that maybe sparring is one of your love languages too — not that you’d ever admit it. You’re still in disbelief over the last time you arrested him as a joke:

’Oh? What’ll you do with me now that my hands are tied?’

…Next time, you’ll throw him off the building. There’s no way this ginger has that much of a grip on you!

Albedo

You were bitten by a radioactive spider that escaped from Rhinedottir’s lab! Rhinedottir is a super-genius scientist who specializes in creating synthetic life, who only realized the connection after Albedo did a sweep of their lab and found a test-subject missing.

So of course, Rhinedottir assigns him to investigate who you are. This is a great opportunity to study how the spider’s changed your biology, after all!

It takes about a month for Albedo to figure out that Spiderman is none other than his own classmate in high school — he may be a synthetic human, but has been living more or less like a regular person since his body functions the same (needing to eat, breathe, and age).

With his heightened intelligence and senses, Albedo does act a little inhuman sometimes — but that’s mostly because Rhinedottir was his main parent figure and less to do with his genetic makeup.

You guys never interacted before because of how big the school cohort is, but this year you were sorted into the same class! Shortly after Albedo sussed you out, you started to sense that eyes were on you via your spidey-sense, but couldn’t figure out who it was. Eventually, Rhinedottir formally invites you to her lab and an agreement is struck: you’d visit biweekly for check-ups and tests, while Albedo will assist you if anything unusual happens due to your spider traits.

Said tests range from sitting in a scanner to doing crazy stunts, but at least Albedo is there as a cute lab assistant!

He’s generally kind and understanding to you (which you later realize is only directed to those he’s interested in, due to his aloofness at school despite his delicate looks,) and you both build a rapport through mutual secret-knowing (you find out about his synthetic makeup, too, after Rhinedottir explains that this lab is top secret and that no one should know it exists.)

Albedo didn’t immediately try to hang out with you outside of the lab, but eventually you grow close enough to admit that being a superhero makes it hard for you to maintain friendships. You have to bail if a villain appears, and can’t really explain where you disappear to — which makes Albedo suggest:

’In that case, I could keep you company.’ ‘Wait— Really?’ ‘Of course. But I must warn that my hobbies aren’t as exciting as your usual work.’

Despite this, you learn that genius scientists aren’t also dubbed as crazy for nothing. During missions or lazy afternoons where you declare your boredom, Albedo suggestions on what you could do always manages to surprise you. ‘...Hm, too much?’ ‘I’m starting to wonder if I’ll have to arrest you one day.’ ‘If that day comes, I’d look forward to our fight.’

You went from thinking Albedo would be just a cool, calculated friend into wondering if you’re the only thing keeping him from running morally-questionable experiments. On the other hand, this makes him very objective when you’re struggling on what to do during a fight — and your values of saving the most people possible pushes Albedo to consider other ways to resolve situations. Sometimes he’d handle the rescuing, so that you can pursue the villain who’s getting away.

However— his quiet, ethereal charm is very much still there. And there’s just something disarming about spending golden afternoons with someone that knows the biggest secret in your life; sketching flowers and working on assignments as if you’re just human.

Albedo also does a bit of research based on his own curiosities; such as… to what extent do your senses try to protect you from harm? Does it register flusteredness as a state of vulnerability, like when he gains a sudden boldness and traces his fingers over your skin?

Sometimes, you can’t process how he plays both sides of himself so well; an effortless student with a thoughtful smile and clever glint in his eyes, then a lab assistant who coyly asks about your day, knowing full-well that he spent the entirety of it testing your reflexes. But the biggest debuff you have is how you feel some part of you melt, or shrink, or burn whenever Albedo fixes his gaze on you like that. As if he’s drinking in every little detail and cares for nothing else but you.

You tell yourself it’s for science, but even Rhinedottir knows Albedo’s invested much further than that. He’s never had this much pursuing a line of enquiry, before. Maybe it helps that he has a cute partner?

On a regular day where you’re testing out a new gadget Albedo’s designed (he appreciates how tools of potential destruction become acceptably used in your hands), your world is thrown off-kilter when a lookalike appears on the street. An earlier product of Rhinedottir’s research, who now goes by the name Rubedo, or Ruby for short.

Scaramouche

The spider-hero Scaramouche is otherwise known as Kuni in his civilian form, known for his sharp tongue but otherwise perfect track record as Inazuma’s local hero. He has a somewhat strained relationship with Ei (his mother who owns a giant tech company, that everyone expects him to inherit) and tries to keep people behind a ten feet pole. But of course, being a hero makes him soften up a little bit, swallowing his pride to help a lost tourist or explain an assignment to a peer.

His canon event was losing Niwa, which he blames himself for (if only he’d decided to be a superhero earlier, he may have been able to save his friend.) However, he does find the strength to persevere after he saves a young boy from an accident, who then requested to be swung around the city a little more so that he can experience what it’s like to fly (Scaramouche tells the kid that he can’t fly. But the kid is not picky about specifics.)

The young boy has an unknown illness, and isn’t expected to live past adulthood — but is somewhat doing fine while Kuni visits him on occasion (normally as Scaramouche, to cheer him up.)

Kuni’s also put some of his savings into being an anonymous sponsor for the illness’ research, which did catch Ei’s eye but she knows better than to pry. There’s a little moment of connection where she pats his head and tells him the funding will go to good use, and he huffs before leaving to sketch out new gadget designs in his room.

Being flawless for most of his life (skills come easy to him), Kuni does fear deep down that when there’s something he finally cares for — something big — he may fail in a manner that is unsalvageable to him.

That’s why being a hero has helped a little, as even saving a person from a road accident helps him realize that that’s a life saved, regardless of the scope. His suit and powers are electro themed, with the ability to collect static and store it in his body, enough to prompt lightning-fast dashes mid air or shock an unconscious person back to life.

You attend the same school as Kuni and caught his eye because of your big aspirations! The thing is, you’ve never been vocal about that and always chased them quietly (what aspiration/hobby is up to you) — working on your projects during your spare time, sometimes in the less frequented spots on campus or the library. Both of which Kuni is familiar with

There’s just something about the focused pinch in your brow and little smiles — it’s cute, and endearing, and maybe he’s projecting a little but whatever — you’ve just charmed him without even realising he’s been crushing on you. And eventually, Kuni takes some chances to interact with you more, both as a student and Scaramouche.

He’s often reading, listening to music, or sketching tech ideas in his notebook (it has a lock on it courtesy of his paranoia) — borrowing you his pen whenever yours runs out of ink or offering to show you a quieter corner when the noisy kids have taken over the main hall. Then as a hero, he’s saved you a couple of times from normal-human nuisances and swinging you to campus when you’re late and frazzled!

Scaramouche is more mellowed out around you because the mask helps him be less self conscious, while Kuni is reluctantly nice (still prickly). But once you find out about his identity, you'll be one of the only people that know of just how much good he's done for the world. He’ll start to openly shift between ‘both sides’ of his personality, which is kinda hilarious whenever his civilian sassiness comes through during his patrols (he’s very much a smart-mouthed spiderman).

Your romance does develop, but there's sort of an odd love triangle before you found out his secret (his fault for approaching you in both forms). The breaking point is when you’re gazing out of your bedroom window (can’t sleep) and Scaramouche knocks on the glass. A short late-night rendezvous occurs, where you vent (without too much detail) to the stars.) And that’s when Kuni realizes that he really can’t screw this up.

Once you’re official, you’ll start to see parts of Scaramouche in Kuni and vice versa. LIke when he rescued Childe once and you could tell he really didn’t like the idea of bridal carrying the guy to the infirmary, so you volunteered to make sure Childe survives, instead. Or when a stray baseball almost hits you and Kuni effortlessly pulls you out of the way without a flinch.

People say you've changed him but really you just made him comfortable enough to reveal the other sides of himself. The upside-down kiss trope also happened during one of your night-time escapes (yes it’s an ongoing theme) and it still lives rent free in his head!! He's a romantic deep down and now spends part of his time thinking of other date activities (he finds a match in you)

You’ve helped him on missions a few times (desperate moments where he can’t do everything alone), but the fact that you’re the first person he goes to for help — not Ei, not the police, not even Aether — is very telling of how much trust he places in you. All that echoes in his mind is the thought of you: resulting in ‘I need your help’ and your prompt ‘Just tell me what you need.’ (Yes you’re a little reverse of that Anna/Kristoff moment!)

In the past, this may have been a moment where he feels his vulnerability threatened… but the idea of that isn’t even on his mind. He knows you — that just shows how far you’ve both grown!

Dahlia

Note: very brief biblical and church themes used, mentions of you as a type of monster/demon as perceived by the public. Feel free to skip Dahlia’s entire part if you aren't comfortable with these!

In a gothic medieval city without much tech and a strong Cathedral vibe… You're a vigilante hero who solves crimes in morally questionable ways (by the public's strict standards, at least).

You're a vampire-spider with the ability to paralyse people with your venom! No other side effects exist, for now, but you do have an increased appetite for foods high in iron, and the change in your physical features (fangs and unnatural color of your eyes) are becoming harder to hide.

At first, they’d only appear whenever you were using your powers. But as you get used to swinging around and climbing on walls, they’ve been appearing whenever your spidey-senses kicked in. And you have a bad feeling that if nothing is done, they may be on display forever.

You haven't committed any actual crimes, but the nature of your vigilantism and blatant disregard for the local police puts you on a general ‘wanted’ list. Open-minded folk thank you for your help while others call you a monster that needs to be caught by the Church. Deacon Dahlia is an important person in said Church but he doesn't really think there's a need to start a hunt; true to Barbatos’ ideals, he’s one of the more carefree and understanding figures amongst his peers, well-liked for his graceful demeanor and ability to keep calm under any and all pressures.

…That is, until you break into the Cathedral’s gardens and kidnap him one day, out of desperation when your spidey-traits don’t seem to be turning back like they should. Your fangs and eyes won’t be possible to hide from your friends and family — which will either land them in a tight spot as they try to keep your secret or land you immediately behind bars!

Your intent was to ask for his help in a way that hopefully keeps your identity secret. Dahlia and the other deacons and deaconess’ have the ability to heal people from illnesses (small miracles enabled by Barbatos through their prayer), so surely he can do something! Fix your features, or take away your ‘curse’ altogether — anything works! (At this point you’ve been trying to do good as a hero, but it was mostly prompted by just horrible things happening in front of you that you couldn’t ignore. You’re still very early into your career.)

But, of course, Dahlia accesses your strange demeanor, request, and mode of approach (next time don’t commit borderline blasphemy by kidnapping Barbatos’ Herald) and finally tells you that he doesn’t have the answers you’re looking for. Blessings are for regular, small sicknesses — not exorcisms or curses like you described.

It’s not anger or frustration that fills you, but instead a hollow sense of helplessness. ‘...What am I going to do?’

Dahlia was just going to leave, now that you don’t seem intent on keeping him on the Cathedral’s rooftop — but pauses. He looks at the way you’ve lowered yourself onto the ground and buried your face against your knees, and asks:

‘What did you need my healing for?’

The dam breaks. You tell him everything — the day you got turned, poisoned by some animal in the woods, to the first time you used your powers to this morning, when your features transitioned fully. It all spills out without mentions of your personal background, but Dahlia gets the idea and decides to help you.

You look at him warily, your surprise strong enough for him to sense even with your disguise. ‘Really?’

‘Yes. So long as you help me with a matter of my own…’

Thus begins an odd dynamic of you using a spare room in Dahlia’s private quarters (being Barbatos’ Herald does have its perks of extra living space), in an almost beauty and the beast type of way (except the only thing making you the beast is your spider-powers, and Dahlia is only a little surprised — mostly intrigued — by how your eyes have turned into an unnatural variant of its original color, while your fangs seem to be made for delivering venom, but not exactly for eating meat like carnivores do.)

He’s a lot more laid back about this than you expected, helping you get basic necessities and food without letting any of the others in the Church know. It helps that you can hide and crawl outside pretty easily if needed, to hide — and you start to grow curious about Dahlia yourself when he finally gives you your mission brief — to investigate some small crimes around the city that he suspects are connected, based on Rosaria’s reports.

The mystery quickly proves to be bigger than either of you imagined, and it becomes a battle to keep the peace in Mondstadt while nefarious forces linger in the shadows. Meanwhile: What will the public think when they find out Deacon Dahlia has enlisted the help of a monster, of all things? A person whose powers (in a world with only blessings from gods or curses from demons) is most likely from a dangerous, nefarious source?

Because of how close you’re working together, you discover sides of Dahlia that even the longest term Sisters haven't seen before (mostly because he works with them in a professional setting).

“You're less pious than I thought you'd be.” “Well, no point doing that in front of the person who decimated Barbatos’ statue.” “...Touché.” “You’re helping with the repairs, by the way.” “How many jobs are you having one person do?!”

And the first time you hear a genuine, happy laugh fall off his lips? You know that deep down, even if Dahlia was to turn against you someday… You may never be able to truly cut yourself off from the friendship you’ve built. Even if it was only you visiting the remnants of it, chasing after phantoms in the courtyard where bloody flowers bloomed — you’d stand there and wait, eyes angled away from the shadows swarming beneath your steps.

#i also had ideas for kazuha and kaeya but this post is already way too long #childe x reader #albedo x reader #scaramouche x reader #dahlia x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin x reader #genshin reader insert #genshin impact imagines #genshin x you #genshin dahlia #albedo genshin impact #childe ajax tartaglia #traveler wishes #genshin headcanons

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luc1enn · 7 days ago

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B E G U I L E —> V. not the worst

a genshin smau | xiao x fem!reader

prev | masterlist | next

SYNOPSIS: [alatus just sent you a text!]

user mao and user alatus are online best friends of 3 years, playing games and texting for hours without having shared a phone call once. y/n and xiao on the other hand? mortal enemies who refuse to talk to each other, despite their potential bond. but who would’ve known they were actually the same people?

beguile ; enchant someone, often in a deceptive way

TAGLIST: @kitsuvil @trannyctophiliac @fangygf @ghostalzacx @akagism2 @scarammouch @simpingpangirl @eimuros @duckyyyx @elebeleb @turtl3-warr1or @luvstivalll @ferumie @mellowknightcolorfarm @sakiimeo @sxiaoul @layla240 @lovelyiez @miaoxi @erosdevil @daninaninani @shrslair @richxelle @scaraapologist @soupious-mysteries @vinkiesz @meigalaxy @venteas @enviouspeanut @st0pthatsgay @rougemon @kkzuh4 @gojoandelsalovechilde @diestheticu @fiannee @moonbunny-fl @rifran @aecidas @vqazx @wonderful-worlds @dazaiswifenicole @lemontum @candy-purple-cyanide @blackrabb1t @exhaustedcommunist @certaindreampost @sammybeefangirls @grxmgrxy @mave-in @maxineryx @lordbugs @lazy-sanns @aludicpoet

if your name is highlighted that means I cannot tag you, tell me if you changed ur user or wanna be removed from the taglist. [taglist is open.]

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sheep-from-rad · 8 months ago

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Note: This is just an Idea. I don’t know if I’m going to make a full fic or incorporate this into future fics.

You know what’s not always talked about? Alfred’s angst potential in the neglected!reader fics. We know Alfred left his life behind to work for Martha and Thomas Wayne and then later on becoming the adoptive father to Bruce. Along with his old life, he had to leave his daughter Julia behind (I don’t remember which timeline but i think this is flashpoint)

I would love to see a fanfic where the reader realizes that Alfred sticks with them not because of familial love or duty, he stayed because of guilt. Reader realizes that Alfred doesn’t see them at all, he sees Julia and what it’s like if he raised Julia.

Bonus angst if Alfred started pushing the reader towards the things he remembered Julia likes: her favourite colour, her preferences in clothes, food, the things she hates, etc. Bonus angst (2x) if Alfred once accidentally called reader as ‘Julia’

masterlist

#ngl I just want to see Julia Pennyworth in fics #batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #neglected reader #batfam x neglected reader #alfred pennyworth #reader angst #genshin reader insert #reader insert #platonic batman x reader #yandere platonic dc

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affableramen · 1 year ago

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You fell asleep on their groin (accidentally) ~ Genshin Impact men x You, the reader

Featured characters: Pantalone, Alhaitham, Wriothesley

Note: you turned them into a mess.

Pantalone

He wakes up to some tingling sensation on his privates. His vision is quite blurry, so as soon as he puts his glasses on and comes to senses, he hisses at the sight he sees: you accidentally fell asleep on top of his groin. Your head is gently laying on top of his special area, and there is a dreamy expression on your face while you’re asleep. Pantalone freaks out as soon as he understands. He covers his mouth with his hand, praying to archons you won’t stir while on top of him. Comfortable, eh? Your face is pure tenderness and innocence, and seeing you like this he just cannot be mad at you. Pantalone is not telling you about this uncomfortable situation under any circumstance so he tries hard to not make any sound. He gently moves your head slightly to the side so you do not make contact with his crotch anymore. Once you are laying just beside him, he sighs in relief and wipes sweat off his forehead. Goodness, that was close…

Alhaitham

Alhaitham usually wakes up as soon as something disturbs him. He is sensitive to sounds and other distractions, especially during the night time. Upon seeing you sprawled out on his lap, while being on your back, Alhaitham is quite perplexed for sure. He doesn’t want to disturb an innocent creature like you even if you inconvenience him slightly. He runs his hand through your hair brushing your strands with his fingers. He sighs wearily. He is sensitive down there especially right now but as he endures the most awkward moment in his life, he starts reciting passages from the latest books he read in order to distract. He might also put on his headphones. However he won’t ever wake you up, he doesn’t want you to feel bad about it. Perhaps soon you will shift your body and everything’s settled then?

Wriothesley

The duke wakes up to the strange feeling of something pressing against his crotch and involuntarily moans. What the fuck—! You’re laying on the bottom side of the bed with your hand positioned on his groin! Fuck! He tries to recollect himself by taking deep breaths for a few seconds. The shock was inevitable and he gotta do something about it. Wriothesley carefully takes your hand and places it beside his leg so it does not make contact with his genitalia, however you draw it back. Holding for dear life Wriothesley gulps and taking your shoulders moves you around the bed. Apparently he should have done it even more gently because you wake up as soon as appear next to him. “What is it, baby?” you ask him. The duke covers his red face and turns away. “It’s nothing! Just… just go back to sleeping.” “Huh? You’re silly”, you answer wearily but upon tiredness you go back to sleep. He attempts to not dive into what happened cause he is already so very flustered.

#genshin impact #pantalone #pantalone x reader #pantalone x you #genshin impact x you #genshin reader insert #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley #wriothesely x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #wriothesley x you #alhaitham

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ordowrites · 3 months ago

Note

Hey there. I really enjoy your works. I've been feeling really depressed, lonely and hated lately so I need some happy fics. Can I request a fic in which characters try to prove how much they care about the reader by making love to them and fucking them real deep? (My fav is Diluc but I'm happy with any male chara you write.) (If possible, no reader with a vagina. It kinda breaks immersion for me bc my body has a different anatomy.)

No pressure of course! ❤️ I hope you are having a good day

Hey anon, I hope this helps and I hope things start to feel better<3

cw: smut, slight bondage, body worship. diluc is slightly possessive and likes to bite, please forgive him. pet names ("baby", "darling", "my love", "my flame"), some angst, some fluff. hurt/comfort.

amab reader! minors dni, mdni. empty and blank blogs will be blocked.

divider by @/enchanthings!

"Too tight?" His voice is warm as he looms over you, a gloved hand running over your torso - making all the mental notes of fading hickies from the last time you two had made love, and he bends down and gives a soft bite to your chest, his hair tickling you a bit and you wiggle.

"'s fine," you mumble and he hums his approval as he starts to pepper kisses along your chest and lower abdomen. "You overthink these things." Or maybe, you think, I don't want to be showered in such tenderness. The feeling like you don't deserve such gentle touches and warm looks settles in the pit of your stomach again, a feeling you haven't been able to shake off for some time now, and you feel guilty for it - especially when he looks at you with those red eyes you always get lost in. It's automatic for you to pull at the silk bindings, always marveling in how soft they are and for a brief moment, your wedding ring catches the light of the candle and you're reminded that he married you of all people.

And there's that feeling again - it makes your stomach lurch and settles in a space between sadness and warmth. He keeps you warm and burning, always but you're not sure what you do for him. Most days, you often wonder if he loves you or if he's playing some long con game. Diluc always says he loves you, showers you with expensive gifts that you do adore - truly you do - and once gifted you a sword he commissioned from a very well known blacksmith in Fontaine. He also commissioned you a polearm - having taken notice that you had gotten interested in learning how use one. (And yet, you still wonder...)

Diluc gives a little hum. "Perhaps I just want to make sure the man I love isn't in any pain." Despite his words, he still pinches a nipple relishing in the soft gasp you give. "Is that so wrong of me, my love?" He sighs a little bit. "Baby, look at me." He grips your chin now, and you feel something rush through you and down to your cock that you can't help but arch upward a little bit to silently tell him what you want. For someone who claims to want to be sweet and loving, Diluc sure is not listening. Finally, your eyes meet his - your face a bit more red and he smiles, pleased. "Good boy."

With those two words, he captures your lips - a bit rougher this time as long as he possibly can while he fumbles to remove his own clothes.

You two break apart. You breathe hard, swallowing a bit.

"I love you," he says, firmly.

"I love you too." You answer, easily - watching as he removes his gloves slowly and you bite back a groan as you grind upward. A hand presses against your belly, forcing you down and still. "Diluc, you're taking too long."

"I'm enjoying what's mine," Diluc responds, easily. You fluster more. "Is that so wrong? Last I checked, I am allowed to enjoy my husband and how handsome he looks when he's red and needy." He bends down and bites your neck now, this time, it does cause you pain and you groan. "Do you know why, darling?"

You don't trust yourself to answer that and instead, you look away - to the mirror that sits close by. It dawns on you that you should really move that stupid thing when you have a moment as it keeps startling you in the middle of the night (and Diluc's decorative choices are honestly quite subpar for a man with wealth).

"Look at me," he commands and you snap your gaze back to him. Something about Diluc being so demanding of your attention turns you on more than you'd like to admit. "I asked you a question, my flame. Do you know why I like to take my time with you?"

You should answer - you know you should, but your voice catches in your throat as he starts to bite more at your skin, leaving blossoming purples and blues in his wake, teeth marks - all of these things that remind you of who your lover is. His Vision sits on the bedside table and it glows. You can feel the slightest touch of his flame your skin, but it doesn't burn and it feels good.

His mouth ghosts over your cock for a brief moment, and he grips it - not too firmly - and starts to pepper tender kisses along the hard skin. Diluc worships your cock the way he worships your body, reverence and as if you were a god sent for him to worship. Admittedly, you used to dislike receiving blowjobs from him because he always edges you, always takes his time until you merely a mess beneath him. You pull at your bindings when you feel his throat constrict around your cock and moan as he continues to tease, stroke, suck.

"Ah - Diluc-"

There's a brief moment where you're sure he's going to push you over the edge, but he finally pulls off - lips a mess with saliva and precum and you stare at him with need.

He bites your thigh and you moan even louder. Honestly, whenever you two have sex, you look like you've taken some weird tumble that has teeth. You remember asking him once about it and Diluc didn't seem to quite have answer, except that he simply enjoys marking you up so you remember that he loves you. He had offered to stop but you had told him, no, you don't mind.

Lube is squirted on his fingers liberally and he reaches down, pressing his fingers against your entrance.

"You never answered my question." You can't really apologize for being unable to talk while he was giving you a blowjob.

"My mind was pre-occupied." You quip. "Hard to think when you're the messiest person I met when it comes to oral."

There's a faint smile on his lips and he snorts. "That doesn't sound like a complaint." Diluc muses and you gasp as a finger slips in. "As far as I can tell, you quite enjoy when I get messy." He's not wrong. "Are you ready for me, my darling?"

Your breath catches in your throat as he removes his fingers and you nod. Diluc smiles and presses a kiss to your lips, tender and sweet as he pushes your knees to your chest. He presses the head of his cock to your entrance and you draw in a breath, bracing yourself for his size.

"By the way, I expect you to have answer to my question." The least sexiest thing Diluc can say, but you appreciate his attempt at alleviating how tense you feel as he slowly pushes in.

"I didn't realize sex with you came with homework and reports." You manage to quip out and Diluc laughs, and butterflies flutter in your stomach as you blush. He only ever laughs like that with you, deep, genuine - mirth on his face. "Do I have to also cite my sources?"

"So long as your only source is me." He nips at your lips again before fully hilting himself inside of you. You tug harder at the bindings, feeling as if your breath had been forced out of you. He groans. "So perfect for me." He frees your wrists from their bindings and you immediately wrap your arms around his shoulders, clinging for dear life as he starts to move.

At first, he's gentle with you - like he always starts off, as though he doesn't want to break you. Though he never does, no matter how rough he gets.

It doesn't take long for you to become a mess beneath him, cock aching to be touched as he fucks you as thoroughly as he can - hitting your prostate over and over again. Your cock twitches and you reach down to start stroking yourself off, but his hand pushes yours away and grips your wrists, pinning them above your head.

"Don't make me tie you up again." he groans as he grinds his cock inside of you and you let out a debauched moan, tears pricking at your eyes. "Look how beautiful you are. All for me."

"Nng, Diluc, please-" You gasp out as he hits your prostate again and he is pleased, moving the one hand that had been pinning you wrists above your head down to your twitching, leaking cock. His calloused hand wraps around your cock again and he starts to stroke in time with his thrusts, that hit you deep and make your eyes roll back.

Soon, you're releasing over his hand and your stomach, whining his name again. Diluc follows you not long after, releasing inside of you - but his cock remains, plugging you up.

Tender kisses are peppered along your face, slowly bringing you back down to him.

"Are you okay, my flame?" He murmurs as you slowly open your eyes. You draw in a few deep breath. Diluc's expression is one of love and worship

"Yeah, I'm...I'm fine." you murmur.

He slowly pulls out, some of his cum spilling as he does so. You almost whine at the loss of his cock and his body heat.

"My beloved," he murmurs. "Do you understand now?"

You do have answer, but you can't help but let a little grin form on your lips.

"I'm afraid I need to study a bit longer." you tell him. Diluc's gaze darkens with lust as he grips your hips and forces you on your hands and knees.

"Then I suppose I can help you," he says as he gives your ass a light smack. "I'll show you over and over again until you get it." Diluc's body encases your own, erection pressed against your ass again. "Make sure you know how much I love you and what I love about you until you never doubt me again."

And that is a promise.

#genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #diluc x male reader #genshin x male reader #ordo.txt #diluc.txt #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin.txt #genshin reader insert

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pen-observing · 9 months ago

Text

beauty and curiosity

synopsis: As Dottore's research assistant, you had to keep your curiosity on par with what he expected. You never thought that what sparked it after so much time would be Capitano himself

word count: 3k pairing: capitano x gn! reader (slight dottore if you wish to imagine it so, I did)

The door that greets your open eyes is the same like always. Brown wood that someone else picked before you. You can't say that they had bad taste, the door is placed nicely to the right corner and you little friend from last night - the spider- greets you even with this dawn. You wonder if he stayed there the whole night while you were sleeping as a thank you to the mercy you extended him. You did not kill him, and he did not move to make a new web. maybe he saw that as an equal trade? You probably would have left him alive anyway. Someone told you long before that seeing a spider was like a hint that you will get lucky in the following few days. So, even as your feet touch the cold wooden floor, you decide to still have mercy and to open the door without killing him to get breakfast.

Maybe they are lucky omens, maybe they are not. But it is not like killing him or carrying him out the window would change much for you. Your eyes would see the same door tomorrow. The floor would feel cold again and you would pick the same mug off the drying dishes in your kitchen to start the day with.

These routines did not bother you themselves, no. What was bothersome was the fact that you realized how, eventually, everyone develops to have them as creatures of habit. It was inevitable to turn into someone who repeats the same things over and over again. Even the harbinger you serve - one with multiple bodies, had his own routines. His younger clones had far more rebellion towards them but even they still had a need to keep a specific space, to prioritize one thing over the other like second nature.

Truth be told - you were not asked to pick who you would serve. Dottore ended up being the harbinger you would serve as an assistant. and you were not the only one picked for that role. He liked to keep plenty of staff. Part of it was that he needed an audience to showcase his own talents and immense intelligence to, while another part of him was a bit less selfish. Dottore was willing to teach those who had true curiosity and spirit according to his own criteria and for whatever reason, you managed to remain as one of the few assistants he kept close at hand. As close as he would allow that is and with a man like him that still meant millions of lightyears away.

You do not mind that in the slightest. What kept you around despite your failures and 'shortcomings' of having a moral compass in his lab was that he deemed your curiosity the highest out of anyone he had met. He once told you that if you were not serving him, the abyss would have swallowed you whole because you would wonder about its properties the same way you wondered about colors when you were younger.

"Why are apples red and why is the sky blue? from your childhood would just turn into questions about the inside shapes of the abyss and you would be swallowed by curiosity." Were his exact words.

Dottore believed that true curiosity could not be fabricated even at his own hands so while you were the not best person for experiments at the start, you were the one who suited his own curious nature.

'What good is a doctor who cures a disease without wondering about the cause? Without wondering about its transformations? What good is an engineer who cannot disassemble parts at the same speed he would assemble them at? And what good is a person who cannot see beyond the usual?"

He said you could see beyond the usual but in all honesty, sometimes it feels like you can't see past this mug. Or this window looking out into the street next to your breakfast table. Sometimes you felt like you could not see beyond the speck of dust or the peel of a citrus fruit.

Maybe that is why when he gave you a choice to leave, you decided to stay. While every Dottore clone had his own routines, they managed to keep a constant cycle of novelty. Working at his lab eventually brought more interesting things than you could have found yourself.

Was beauty in the new? Or was it in the old?

You were deeply unsure.

Dottore was not above punishing you despite keeping you around. For a few days, Dottore did not hear you utter a singular question in his lab and he found it so offensive you would dare to become ignorant to his breakthroughs. It seemed like you were bored of him and his research and he decided that a proper punishment would be to have you spend a whole month in the city farthest away from the main fatui base and from the tsaritsa.

if you were so bored of constant novelty - you might as well experience true boredom by residing in his abandoned lab in a peaceful town where everyone with something exciting to offer already moved away. The worst part? You did not feel like anything changed.

Numbness even touches curiosity. So, what if your door is now on the right instead of the left? What if the mug is pink instead of white? What if you were there or here? Differences are miniscule and nothing could make your curiosity perk up. If you were still like this when he summoned you back - you would be sent home and that is all there was to it. Or, he would further punish you by extending your stay. He could laugh at you when you mixed the things in the wrong way or when you failed to fix a core and it would explode. But what he absolutely refused is to have your curiosity dim down. If it did, you would be useless.

And it isn't like you have not tried to find something interesting. While you were on the trip to get to here, you tried to find something interesting. Perhaps some plants that would show something new or an animal that would make for a good study case. You did want to try and see how many generations it would take for animals to break a trauma response their parents exhibited alone but even that went out of the window after a few seconds.

If you could not find anything worthwhile in this town - you would be doomed to feel this way forever. Black and white thinking but not without basis. Stubborn curiosity and stubborn numbness started to go hand in hand for you. Maybe if you closed your eyes and prayed, your spark of curiosity would find an object for it to love and latch onto?

In the next moment, your spoon made a small noise. It moved from one side of your mug to the other. Nothing unusual, right? You just wanted to make the tea and honey come together but when you looked down you realized that your hands did not make it move. You already finished doing that around three minutes ago. To prove to yourself what it feels like, your hands moved to make the same motion and the fog over your brain lifted as you felt that danger was near. Somehow this spoon moved and it was not your doing.

With all your senses, you tried to pinpoint what exactly had happened but you were unsuccessful. Even if something was here, it masked its presence so well that a ghost would be ashamed. You did not feel a void, but you did not feel any warmth either. Unnerving. Unusual. Interest could be found in fear but you were unsure where to search.

Luckily for you, the presence had decided to make itself know. With a slight thud, footsteps approached you without your door ever opening. Was this mercy extended towards you in the same way you treated your spider? It sure felt that way.

"My sincere apologies for startling you." Now you had to look up from the mug to search for the stranger. But, with his deep voice and polite manner of speaking, you knew who it belonged to already. Capitano, the first of the eleven fatui harbingers. Your own Lord always said he did not care much for rankings but a certain sour taste would be in his words whenever he spoke of this man. You had not made contact with him previously but in a way, you felt that it was cruel fate that only one number separated you from the most noble and righteous harbinger and a heretic.

"Based on my previous visits to this abandoned small lab, I never encountered another soul here. When I felt your presence, I had to judge if you were sent here or if you were trying to steal information that belongs to our organisation."

You stood up and saluted him. It comes like second nature. "Lord harbinger, you were doing your duty. No need for apologies."

"Nonsense. I felt that I had startled you and should have thought of Dottore sending his own forces to abandoned labs before I made such a move."

Talking to other lords never came quite easy to you. Dottore enjoyed much of questioning and random rambles but other Lords were known to punish just for being asked a question by wretched vermin. But suddenly, you felt that Capitano filled the room with a presence. It seemed like he could choose to be a void or actually have spiritual warmth. How many years had he taken to perfect this?

In fact, how many years has he been alive? Did your lord simply hate him because he was branded with number two? Why did he always wear a mask?

You had heard so many rumours in bars and gatherings of other servants and soldiers but Capitano's own men never gossiped. Not even when they were at their most drunk. That is - they never spoke of their own lord with anything other than praise.

Where did that admiration come from? Had anyone seen him without a mask or cry perhaps?

"Your silence makes for a rather awkward companion. But I can tell you have questions."

"I have been called curious before, but it has been a while since I was curious about anything deeply."

Capitano moved a few steps to open a drawer with syringes in it.

"Are you not a researcher and is this not a lab of your famed lord?"

"Yes is my answer to both of those questions."

His gloved hands picked up two syringes and he did not look at you while he was doing so. You were not part of Dottore's team when he made them and their unique mix of colors piqued your interest. One of those colors looked like synth vaguely but the other one was similar to lava. Just how many experiments of Dottore's were you unaware of?

"And should this not be a prime place for you when the answer is yes to both. What have you been doing all this time?"

"Looking around this lab without actually touching anything for longer than a few seconds. I also kicked out a lot of spiders but last night I let one stay."

Capitano did not seem perplexed with your paradoxical answers. He could see your eyes eying his syringes with interest when you refused to take them apart and analyse the contents for however long you have been here. He felt no malice or dishonesty in your being, so he simply continued to move like you were not here. He had done this countless times before.

"I will not tell you what is inside of these syringes if that is one of your questions."

He sat down on a chair on the other side of your mug.

"I did have questions about the contents but I would have asked the syringes themselves not you. Even if it seems that I might melt or change shape from simply being exposed to them in any capacity.

"Hmm. You make a valid point. What keeps me a monster would make you disappear. I suggest you stay away from these unless you wish to meet a cruel fate."

"Lord first, you give me a kind warning but you speak of being a monster."

"And what is your observation meant to accomplish?"

"Nothing. Well, I could say it will help me keep my form too."

"You are an ordinary human." It didn't feel like an insult. It felt like he was praising such simpleness.

"What form do you speak of?"

This time he was looking at you. You could not see his eyes from his helmet but you could feel his gaze on you. Without flinching or moaning, all while keeping his eyes solely on you - Capitano stabbed his thigh and his heart with the two syringes he had prepared.

It seemed like he felt nothing but you felt both warmth and cold at once and in a second the overwhelming feeling was gone. It was so overwhelming that your curiosity made you run over and place your hands over his own to feel any remnants of energy. Touching any other harbinger so casually would have meant a number of different fates but Capitano was a kind man.

"If you are here to inspect me, there is no need. I know what I am doing and these will not kill me."

You helped him remove them even if he truly seemed like he did not need help. You could run towards the drawer he pulled them out from but the object of your interest were not the syringes themselves.

Your curiosity was this man himself. For the first time in a while, your brain started to race with questions and theories. Just who was he and what was he hiding.

"What is the reason you are so familiar with using these? Why are you here? Are you a monster?"

"Indeed. I belong to them."

"Beings? You speak of yourself as if you are not human. Just what is behind that mask of yours?"

Perhaps Dottore was right, the abyss would swallow you whole if it interested you. Maybe it still can? If you get out of this situation alive - if you survive removing the mask of the famed and powerful harbinger - you could go out to uncover new condensed abyssal energy.

You finally got your curiosity back and allowing it to run out would be a crime against yourself. Curiosity filled your whole body and Capitano felt cold to your touch as you looked at his face.

"You call yourself a monster because of this?"

"Are you perhaps about to call it beauty like that twisted doctor you serve?"

Maybe he expected a bigger reaction than this. Maybe you failed him, but you did not fail yourself.

"Beauty? There is nothing beautiful about it."

"At least you don't call rot beautiful like your own master."

"Your ice is above my head so I suppose your reputation proceeds you. You are kind enough to let me get my words out."

"Speak."

"There is nothing beautiful about the rot of skin. However, you are not a monster. You are undoubtedly human."

"Laughable."

But he did not laugh. He found you foolish. You dared to overstep twice. Removing his helmet was one thing but trying to comfort him was another.

"You are human, lord harbinger. Did you know that my own lord does not rot? Did you know he has made others unable to rot? In an odd way, this rot makes you more human than you believe."

You can't tell if your words caused a change or if they were comforting or insulting. This man has lived more lives than you ever will and he had seen and spilled more blood than you can imagine. He does not need comfort from you. That much is clear.

Still, as the ice descends, he makes it disappear with his hand and you emerge unharmed.

"Your curiosity saved you."

"I always thought it would eat me alive."

"It almost did. I never heard of anyone gaining a vision and immediately aiming at themselves."

A cryo vision had manifested in your lap without you even noticing. When you looked back up, Capitano had already pulled down his mask.

"Why didn't you stop me? You could have made me regret my choice the instant I tried to touch you."

"I had never seen anyone gain a vision in such a way. I suppose my own curiosity got the better of me."

He got up from the chair and you noticed just how much taller and imposing he was from such close proximity. You really were in the presence of danger and still chose risk instead of safety. Capitano was already moving towards the door and something compelled you to sit back down and finally drink the tea that had grown cold.

He was in the doorway now. You were thinking of what would happen to you now that you had a vision. Maybe you could try to boil it? You heard they were indestructible but surely something could dissolve it? Visions were not a completely natural thing in this world.

"Come. Bring that vision and follow me."

"I still do not have orders to leave this place."

"Since when were you allowed to refuse any orders from a harbinger? Dottore is not the only one you ought to listen to and I doubt he would be suitable to teach you how to use your new power."

You would be risking Dottore's wrath and plenty of unpredictable outcomes based on which clone greets you once you are back. But, losing the object of your curiosity would doom you to a worse fate in your own eyes.

Following Capitano would unlock a new world for you. Something told you that you would be able to find new beauty and curiosity if you took him up on his offer.

a/n: guess who is back !! after a year!! I hope my mutuals are around still to actually guess that it is me who is back. i realized the last time i wrote was in november and the new archon quest finally inspired me.

to give you a few updates: i changed two jobs and I became less creative I am afraid. I got into a situationship/delusionship with a narc for a few months but i did not cry. i am welcoming any thoughts because after so long this was vv hard to write.

i hope you are well and that you have enjoyed this at least a little bit

#genshin x reader #capitano x reader #genshin impact #genshin capitano #genshin fanfic #genshin x gn reader #genshin reader insert #genshin harbingers #not om #HI HI #my writing #oneshot #genshin oneshots #genshin dottore

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moondance-r · 10 months ago

Text

SAGAU-adjacent not-Creator Creator 1

Summary: You knew, viscerally down to your bones, that you did not create this world; Teyvat had no grand creator, no single hand designing its wonders. It did, however, have something of a catalytic agent, without which it would not exist.

You.

[Masterlist] [Next]

Godhood got boring after a while, so you wandered. You peeked into worlds and travelled from star to star -- one, dying and desperate, called out to you.

It might have been beautiful, once. You could see patches of greenery and remnants of grand structures littering the landscape, could sense life lingering on its surface and stubbornly refusing to fade. This was a world on the verge of destruction, you knew, and not just because of what its creatures did or didn’t do. No, this was something far grander than anything mortals -- or pseudo-immortals -- could ever achieve.

Its core was decaying inexorably, not on a time scale noticeable to any of its inhabitants but destined for demise nonetheless. You... pitied it, perhaps. You had no reason to -- you had watched countless worlds perish and this one should have been no different -- and yet you dove close and settled into the core of this world that called itself Teyvat.

You slept.

And Teyvat grew itself around you.

You awoke to darkness. This was strange because you had no physical form and should not have registered the lack of light as anything that would impact your senses. And yet it was dark and you could not see.

(With physical eyes, a corner of your mind whispered. How novel!)

Since you had eyes, you must have a body. You tried to move a limb; nothing happened, except for a brief sense of pressure. Then you heard -- with ears! -- muffled rumbling before light pierced the darkness as soil peeled itself back from where it buried you beneath the earth. You sat up. You were in a divot someone might call a grave, if not for it having no markers or headstones.

You didn’t know how long you sat there appreciating the dawn before a metaphysical humming caught your attention, and you turned to see some stone steps leading up to a circular portal. That, you knew instinctively, was a passage leading to the roots of this world where you had slumbered for the past... how long?

You didn’t know. You wanted to find out.

The first order of business: getting off this island. Unfortunately, it seemed as if you were stuck in your fleshy body, which didn’t even have the decency to transform into something capable of flight when it refused to allow you to revert into your nebulous spirit form. You considered just walking into the sea, but you only had this one body on hand and did not want to test its lung capacity for so little reward. Life was so fragile already.

Well, this may be a problem, you thought to yourself. Not even a single local solar cycle and your journey had already stopped in its tracks.

So you sat. And thought. And thought some more.

Before you could petrify into a statue, something big flew overhead, handily startling you out of contemplation. You rose to your feet as a winged four-legged creature covered in teal fur landed heavily in front of you and bowed. You assumed it bowed, anyway -- such gestures weren’t easy to do when one was a quadruped, but the way it drew back a foreleg and lowered its head was definitely deliberate.

You blinked at it, nonplussed. You’d barely taken more than a hundred steps on this land, there was no way you had done anything to deserve this bowing and scraping.

“Mine Guiding Wind,” the dragon said in a deep, echoing voice, “it gladdens me to see thine holy visage. It would be of utmost honour if mine unworthy body might bear thy divine form through the skies.”

“...You can speak to me casually,” you said instead of getting into all of that. You wanted to be off this island before digging into the dragon’s delusions. “And yes, a ride would be appreciated.”

The dragon seemed to faintly shiver in delight. As you approached, they obligingly shuffled around and offered a foreleg so that you could climb onto their back. You forced your new limbs to cooperate as you clambered up and over to settle in front of their first pair of wings and gripped their ruff.

With a great beat of the dragon’s six wings, you ascended into the air. Despite your muffled senses, you could detect this world’s wind element assist in the dragon’s rise. Anemo, you remembered from the last time you were awake, one of this world’s seven elements. All worlds worked differently and this one fell on the more magical side of the scale. You wondered how Teyvat had changed since its near destruction -- if new civilisations had risen to replace the old, if these new peoples remembered old lessons. If they would be as welcoming as their world had been.

At least the last was promising if the dragon’s greeting was anything to go by, though who knew if that would persist once they realised you weren’t whoever they thought you were.

“What’s your name?” you called down to the dragon, trusting that Anemo would carry your voice.

Sure enough, the dragon replied, “I am Dvalin of Mondstadt, Sweeping Gale.”

“And is that our destination? Mondstadt?”

“It is, yes... unless You would prefer somewhere else?” Dvalin asked, suddenly hesitant.

You hummed thoughtfully. “No, Mondstadt is fine,” you said as you rolled the name around in your mind. You didn’t know enough about this world to have an opinion, though you wondered if this ‘Mondstadt’ was a city? A country? A continent? Or maybe it was merely a wild region uninhabited save for a territorial dragon. That would be interesting, you thought, though probably quite boring.

Sea eventually gave way to land beneath you, which quickly turned into soft rolling hills. People walked on clearly marked paths, and you watched a few turn and look up as you passed.

“It’s surprisingly peaceful,” you commented, thinking back to the scorched earth that had greeted you. “I’m glad.”

Dvalin vibrated beneath you, which you realised was a purr. “It has been many an age since you last descended, Pathfinder; that Mond may receive your praise for our efforts is the greatest reward of all,” they said.

Dvalin landed at the foot of a giant tree, in front of which was a stone statue of an androgynous figure that glowed brightly to your senses. Halfway in a daze, you slipped to the ground and stumbled to the statue, missing the way Dvalin lowered themselves in preparation to catch you should you fall. But even if you noticed you wouldn’t have cared, because the statue called to you like a beacon.

The instant you lay a hand on it, you could feel the world breathe a sigh as a portion of your power returned to you. A rush of air tinged with Anemo buffeted you and the tree joyously, and you chuckled and smiled into the wind.

“I’m back.”

“Your Grace!” A person dressed in fancy green and white clothes seemed to appear out of thin air from the speed he flew over, beaming all the while. “Your Grace, You’re finally here! The festival is all set up, we’re just missing You, O Holy Breeze!”

This person... You squinted slightly. There were remnants of your power within him, though less than the statue. Just what had Teyvat been up to while you were sleeping?

You raised your hands as if to fend him away. “Slow down, who exactly do you think I am?”

“Your Grace?” he asked in bewilderment.

“Answer me first.”

After a brief hesitation, he twirled and bowed with a flourish. “You are the First Breath, the Guiding Wind who accompanies all, the Creator of Teyvat and its every marvel! Every pebble, tree, and shrub was nourished under Your loving hands. You are the one worshipped above all, and we have been waiting most anxiously for Your return.”

What the hell, you thought pointedly at Teyvat.

In response, the wind whispered to you, Barbatos, wind sprite, Anemo Archon, a void where there was once god-heart-gnosis.

Putting aside how the world itself was being suspiciously helpful, you were now face to face with the dragon’s delusions which seemed to not be limited to the dragon. No, if you were understanding things correctly, this was something shared by large swathes of the population. Only one problem: you were not a Creator or creator, of Teyvat or otherwise. To give life was far beyond your abilities. No deity you knew of could do it either.

You could sort of understand how such a belief might have come to be, if you turned around and looked at it sideways. The process of saving this world from its slow march toward destruction had necessitated merging yourself with Teyvat to share your life force, and this had won you major brownie points with it. If an abstract version of that event was somehow passed down, then your power was extracted to fill things like the statue and this young man... If they could feel you as distinct from Teyvat itself, which you were, then you supposed that it wasn’t impossible for them to assume that you had more agency in their fate than you did. Still ridiculous, though.

This is the problem with magical worlds, you thought despairingly, cults everywhere.

“I didn’t create Teyvat,” you tried to explain, but Barbatos only tilted his head questioningly.

“What are you talking about, First Breath? If it is rejection You fear, please do not, for there is no need. Your return will only bring joy,” he said.

You gave up. This level of conviction wasn’t something that could be shaken in a single conversation. “Alright, fine,” you sighed, “let’s... let’s go to Mondstadt, then.”

“Oh You’ll love it, Your Eminence!” Barbatos chirped, bouncing on his toes with a grin. It appeared as if gravity had no hold on him. “The Church has covered the streets with flowers, flags, and everything they can get their hands on! The Knights of Favonius have set up stalls and shows and even a parade, while the noble families are also planning something, though they’re being quite secretive about it. And the wine! I’ve heard Master Diluc -- he’s the owner of Mondstadt’s biggest winery -- is going to break open his best vintage of dandelion wine, I’m looking forward to it...”

You let Barbatos’ chatter wash over you as the two of you walked northwest. Mondstadt the nation was a land of gentle breezes and temperate climate now, but you could see hints of a violent past in the landscape. Here, a dip between hills that was once a crater. There, a cliff face eroded until it was a shadow of its jagged former self. You wondered how many wars this world had suffered.

You wondered if Barbatos won his seat through conflict, as you did your godhood. You had been mortal once too, maybe a human, maybe some other creature, before you achieved great feats during a war and ascended beyond mortality. That was perhaps why you felt kinship at the sight of Teyvat’s ruin, despite the aeons you lived that left only faint impressions of your origin.

Did you have family that you left behind in your homeworld, or friends? Comrades? Almost certainly; it was a war, after all. You pushed the thought away.

[Masterlist] [Next]

#genshin impact #genshin impact oc #genshin sagau #my writing #sagau-adjacent verse #genshin reader insert

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sevenwishesonshootingstars · 19 days ago

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Stolen Light of a Fallen Star: Prologue

This has been sitting around forever and I haven't updated my other fic in awhile so I might as well post this. This is my take on a sagau imposter au that will hopefully have a reasonable enough explanation for the angsty stuff like being hunted.

Teyvat was made through contract, or at least yours was. A few years ago, you made an account for genshin impact. Though it was no more than a game at the time, it was an agreement about the world. The company gifted you a seed to grow a world in exchange for your agreement to nurture it. Upon the activation of your account, Teyvat, your Teyvat was born from the seed and, in this moment, you were its creator.

In the minutes the game was downloading, thousands of years went by to catch up to the moment the Traveler began their journey with you. Teyvat was far older than you, and yet you existed before it. In your relation to Teyvat, you were the energy that kept it going. It is stagnant without your gaze. Though time will pass, life stands still.

When the fruits of your labor brought down stars from the sky and the light changed, connections were formed. By design, the Traveler was their own person, but first and foremost a primary and initial vessel. Even when out of sight, when you guided others in their place, they were there in traces because you were. In this way they were almost you and the world was a gift that's yours.

Unable to see beyond the fake sky and past the coded stars, the people could not truly comprehend this experience past its warmth. They got hurt in battle, but you were always there to bring them back, uttering apologies they could feel even though they went unheard. You were a guide, and you wanted the best for Teyvat despite your frustrations. They felt this, and caution turned to friendship turned to idolization.

What was a connection through the stars if not a blessing?

You existed beyond them, but never treated them as beneath you. You knew so much without being there to witness, you poured strength into your vessels until they were ascended warriors blessed by your labor. Of course you were adored. You were the everything that was nowhere they could ever reach.

Of course, for all you could do, there was a limit. The deal could only let you do so much at a time and, for all the criticism it deserves in its methods, it worked. You had to have some obstacles and caps on your abilities lest you grow bored of the world and leave it behind.

It didn't matter to them that you couldn't do it all though. They didn't know that. Celestia wouldn't let them, having jumped on the opportunity…

The knowledge of you spread like gossip of a debuting idol group, and soon every NPC and their dog had heard of this being, a star above the heavens, shining down on Teyvat to shower them in nurturing light.

Somewhere along the line, Teyvat rewrote itself for you. You couldn't see the changes on the surface that you grazed in your gameplay, but it was there. You were everything, and so everything must include you. A change was made beyond even what Irmunsil could do. You had never been seen, never met in person, but you'd always been there. In their history, their culture, and their hearts.

Your “reappearance” through your vessels and the shifting of the stars was a sign, wasn't it? Soon you would be home. That's what they believed.

But through whispers, flickers, in the light, watching your guidance of the Traveler who would surely one day point their blade at Celestia’s neck with your support, they knew they couldn't let that happen. For all they used to be, Celestia had warped itself into chains of fate instead of shields of life, and you'd be damned to think they'd let you break those chains so easily. Even their own archons were turning against them. You'd surely be the death of them unless they were yours.

And so they made “you”. While the gods below made puppets to steer the fate of their nations, Celestia made a puppet to steal the fate of the world.

A gilded lie, a glittering illusion, the theft of your visage. Your face and body with a soul modelled in the image of Celestia's vision for the world. A beautiful poison to the mind. The fake descended, and Teyvat’s people rejoiced. Overexposure eroded the mind and forced them to believe so they did with all their hearts.

Teyvat rebelled but no one knew, led to believe this was the work of the Abyss. A warning, they knew, but of what they'd been given a lie. The “Creator” warned the people, and most of all the gods, of an imitation from the void. A weapon of the Abyss, a deceptive reflection of them whose very existence was a harbinger of the world's every evil.

But worry not, dear shining star, your fall is not the end.

This world will free from heaven’s chains. One day you shall ascend.

#genshin impact #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin sagau fanfic #self aware genshin #sagau x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #gender neutral reader #genshin isekai #sagau impostor au #sagau cult au #sagau stolen light fic #my writing #genshin fanfic #genshin reader insert #genshin au

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wistfulwilds · 1 year ago

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SETTING: you are a vahumana student trying to conduct your research and a certain haravatat scribe enjoys arguing with you.

RELATIONSHIPS: alhaitham x gn!reader

♥ — like his mother and father before him, alhaitham gravitates toward vahumana students despite the rivalry in darshans. when asked about it, he plainly states he enjoys the discussion.

♥ — you, in particular, put up a fair argument against him. while chastised by his roommate for going out of his way to pick arguments, alhaitham merely stated the following: "not everyone is as sensitive as you. some of us enjoy a good debate."

♥ — sure, maybe he finds himself watching you when you go about your normal research. he's curious what topic your studying — but not because he cares, no. it gives him a good starting point to argue why it would be better from a haravatat standpoint instead of vahumana.

♥ — yes, that is the only reason why he wants to know, kusanali. no amount of mind reading would say otherwise.

♥ — that's because alhaitham isn't one for feelings nor recognizing them. he finds it easy to identify things in the moment, such as enjoyment from annoying you and the way your face scrunches up to defend your argument being... cute, in his own inner monologuing. he wouldn't want to trade the relationship you two share in the brief moments you set aside to debate.

♥ — maybe debating is a love language for him. maybe he just likes to argue. regardless, he keeps finding new ways to engage with your field of study through his own for the chance to spend time with you.

♥ — when it comes time to present your finished work to be sent to the house of daena, you expect alhaitham to make some passing comment about how this would work better under this lens and how haravatat is better than vahumana.

♥ — instead, all alhaitham offers is a small smile he rarely wears and an "excellent work. you did a good job."

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #gender neutral reader #genshin reader insert #reader insert #x reader #♥ romantic // alhaitham x reader #ʚ “what's the hurry?” // headcanons ɞ #ʚ “don't tell me that's everything...” // self indulgent writing ɞ #{{ this was sitting in my drafts for soo long while i was busy i am so sorry </3

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graveantics · 5 months ago

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Move on bro 𖤓 Diluc. R [Discontinued]

y/n tries to move on from highschool crush diluc, but fate keeps pulling on those goddamn strings.

meet the cast !

⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊

warnings 𖤓 adult jokes, mischaracrerization, cringe but free, non native english, very innacurate depiction of college

status 𖤓 updating

taglist 𖤓 open

Chapters 𖤓

wife

pond | ✎

welcome to the family

smoke bomb

toilet milk

hopes up

sleepover

#masterlist #genshin smau #genshin impact smau #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin reader insert #Diluc x reader #diluc smau #diluc x you #diluc x y/n

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thomine · 3 months ago

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noceur - thoma

x reader | 2.6k words | general audiences

miraculously surviving a near death experience should be celebrated except everyone reminds you that you came back wrong. everyone except... the person doing laundry with you late at night. [ noceur: a person who stays up late at night. ]

tags: comes back wrong trope, brief mentions of skipping meals, human resource malpractice, hinted mentions of abuse, blood and injury, near death experience, requested, not proofread

links: read on ao3 ⁎ read on sqw ⁎ author's notes ⁎ prompt list (closed)

note: this was completed during ficwip's retreat weekend! :D

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The moment you open your eyes, memories of the previous night flood in.

Chinju Forest was shrouded in perpetual night as always. Luminous blue flowers decorated the river as tall trees let for a spectacular show of spotted moonlight. A beautiful scenery for a run, but you were not running for leisure. Your journey to find your missing father had turned into a chase.

Hilichurls loaded their bows and aimed as you fumbled your way deep into the forest. You tripped on a root and an arrow almost landed on your hand if not for your roll to the side. Before your escape, one of the monsters smashed your femur with its bat. It should have been fatal. It should warn you to return, but the adrenaline worked too well. When you fell, that pain shot through your body like the release of a tensed string. Whiz. Something cold pierced your right shoulder.

You didn't die immediately, of course. You wouldn't let yourself. Your father was still out there. Monsters were not match with his combat prowess, but it was useless against the tricks of the forest from curious bake-danuki or powerful yokai. You had to find him because he promised to tell you about your mother when the time was right. You had to find him because he would never abandon you either.

But even when the monsters left after having their fun, you stayed still. Not a single muscle could twitch.

As you laid, choking on blood and paralyzed by pain, the full moon shone on you like a limelight. You seemed to have drawn a presence, thick and soft fur covering your eyes like a mother's kiss. Accompanying the wind's timeless melody, a voice hums a familiar lullaby…

Beastly creature, no known keeper… Head to toe of fearful features… Plagued by longing like a fever… In solitude, world so blued, full of non-believers…

You sit upright, eyes squinting from the sunset. Raising your hand to block the light—

Wait… You have full rotation on your right shoulder. You can move your leg with no pain.

And the sun… You turn your head to see that you're not in Chinju Forest. Instead, you're a few centimeters beyond the toji gate guarding the entrance. A few hundred meters in is the rock where your search took a turn for the worse. It's surprisingly clear despite the foliage.

A shout runs across the sky. It is faint, but gets louder. The voice calls your name. Soon, you hear rushing footsteps—wooden sandals on cobblestone paths—but it's only after long minutes that a face emerges from the distance. When the lady notices your figure by the gate, you see the relief in her wrinkly smile as if she's standing in front of you. If you remember right, she's the head maid.

"You were missing for 3 days! Thank the shogun the guard on patrol found you," she cries, but as she nears, her light steps morphs into stomps. "Who do you think you are? Running off into the dangerous forest by yourself and making everyone worry? Your father already caused so much trouble with his disappearance, but they say you take after him so—"

She gasps, stepping back with wide eyes full of apprehension. Her hands cover her gaping mouth.

Is there something on your face? You tap your cheeks, your mouth and nose. Nothing stands out to you. Is it your teeth? Did you eat something disgusting and it's stuck in your teeth? Why does she look at you like you have an extra limb!

But her fear vanishes as rage takes over.

"You will compensate everyone for the work you abandoned. Quick, get on your feet." She grabs your wrist while her other hand covers her nose. You try to protest that your search was supposed to only be a day's affair, you definitely didn't plan to go missing, but your vocal chords are strangely strangled. "We have a lot to do before you meet the Lord. Taking a bath being the first."

Doing laundry was not the worse fate of a Kamisato servant, but it was proving to be just that.

The stench of aged bacteria freezes you in place and you still have a few meters to reach the basket of dirty clothes. Thankfully, the Kamisato Estate can afford strong detergent, so the broad pail of soapy water you've prepared fills the room in a clinical aroma peppered with artificial flora scents. You would have complained of its pungent scent if it was not the lesser of two evils.

No one liked laundry but it was an annoyance at most before your disappearance. This new experience was seriously shaking your sense of self. It didn't help that three days after your return, you bent a metal spoon while helping in the kitchen. Just yesterday, you freaked a colleague with your "glowing eyes". The room wasn't even that dark.

You hear your name. It is not said harshly. The surprise compels you to turn your head, apprehension on high.

"Still doing laundry at this hour?" Thoma, the housekeeper and once your close friend, says.

The strong smells of the laundry room must have rendered your senses numb. Usually you'll notice someone sneaking up to you. Guess your empty stomach twisting like a child throwing a tantrum is also an issue.

"Sir Thoma," you greet, giving a quick bow. You try to hide your frown as you do. When the head maid instructed you to do laundry at night, you hoped it decreased your chances of bumping into him. Not that you had—this is the first meeting since your return—but you wanted to be cautious. So much for your efforts. "It shouldn't be strange to see someone washing clothes at the end of the day."

"End of the day?" Thoma chuckles, lightly shaking his head. "It was the end of the day a few minutes ago. I believe you should be asleep at this hour." he continued.

"Did the head maid report of my absence?"

"Surprisingly, she reported a full house."

"She must have saw me take a nap and counted me in," you say closer to a statement than a question. "Either way, you shouldn't fret over a humble servant's duties."

"Why be so formal? I know we haven't seen each other in weeks, but that wouldn't make us strangers."

He walks pass you to pick up the laundry basket. Some soiled pieces fall as he lifts it, but he effortlessly bends and places them back, uncaring for the way it grazes his clothes.

"Please, there is no need." You snatch the basket from him with both hands, pressing it against your body for extra support. You aren't at your full strength and you're not going to make a fool of yourself. "I rested well so I have enough energy to get this done."

However, the proximity send a blast of stench that threatens to burn your lungs. You can't help but free one hand to pinch your nose. The basket tilts. Thoma is the reason why nothing spills on the floor.

"See?" He's almost smug about it."I think my help is very reasonable."

With one tug, he brings the basket at an angle and the clothes drop into the pail with minimal splash. Then, he grabs a chair and a washboard to start scrubbing.

You grab another stool from the stack he took his, placing it on the other end of the pail. In the silence, or as quiet as a night with singing crickets can be, you and Thoma scrub each piece of cloth. To focus on the task, you try to narrow on his scent.

His shampoo is undoubtedly the one people of Inazuma are raving about. Lauded for its strong and lasting aroma, evident by how its mint can rival the smell of dirty laundry at this hour. Still, an earthly and musky odor lingers on him. It is the scent of other canines. It's a mix only Thoma can pull off—

Wait, so what? You dig your hands deeper into the pail of cold water, as if that can cool the warmth in your face.

20 minutes in and you start the feel the effects of hunger. Your hands are shaking. You barely scratch the cloths against the washboard, but that's better than tearing it.

Another 10 minutes and Thoma leaves to change the water. You take a nap, hoping that can help you pull through.

Briefly, you dream of tricolor dango. As you sink your teeth in the snack, you taste a hazy rendition of milk tangled with the unique sweetness from sakura blooms and snapdragons. It's Thoma's signature dango. Another bite can't hurt but you're ripped away, a rude awakening by something tapping your head—

You nearly jump at Thoma. Fear flashes across his face and for a second you're back to the incident of last week. Blood on your nails. A terrifying scream. You didn't know you held them that tightly. Ruckus and chaos before the head maid stepped in and declared a new law for you.

Your stomach grumbles. You deserve it.

After mumbling an apology, you dive into work. Now you have to avoid thinking about how you wish he wasn't here and how you smell the sweet snack from your dreams.

Finally, after an hour and a half, both of you see the bottom of the laundry basket.

"This can't be a normal day's wash," he leans back and groans, wiping his face with his upper arm. "It is making me reconsider bathing twice a day," he jokes, probably noticing your uncanny quietness.

You offer a reserved toothless smile. Some colleagues say your "fangs" make you look terrifying, and scaring Thoma again is the last thing you want.

"No wonder laundry is always done in teams," he adds.

"Sir Thoma," you slow your pace of washing, most of whatever little energy you have directed to thinking of how to phrase your concern. "Why aren't you asleep? I don't take you as a noceur with how you have to wake up at the crack of dawn. Are you here because you pity me?"

"I was on my way to the kitchen when I saw you."

"I didn't know you eat supper."

"I don't. I was going to make a meal for you."

You pause, head hanging low. Thoma was the only person you willingly avoided, and yet…

"I heard the chefs were told not to cook dinner for you, which explains why I didn't see you in the dining hall."

"For a good reason," you say as you resume washing, showing him a delicately wrung towel. "This is only possible because of the head maid's orders."

"Still, it shouldn't be the way to do things."

"So you do pity me."

He calls your name, lovingly yet firmly.

"I don't pity you. I care for you." Thoma places his hand on yours, gently lifting it out of the soapy waters. Your nails are to"I couldn't sleep properly ever since you disappeared. I'm really glad you're back."

You pull your hand away, tucking it behind your back, and look at the floor. Your sharp and odd looking nails are harder to ignore with his as a clear comparison.

It doesn’t make sense. Your colleagues are always giving excuses to the head maid to avoid working with you. What you see in the mirror is a familiar face, but everyone points at you to claim otherwise. How could Thoma look at you in the eye and say the exact opposite?

"Thoma, I don't know if the person you're searching for is in front of you."

His face is scrunched by deep thought. Anxiety squeezes your chest as you wait for his response. Despite your new senses, you still can't read minds.

"I have a few questions for you then," he starts. Your heart sinks, although you fully expect suspicions. "Your father was a guard of the Kamisato Estate, yes?"

"…Yes?"

"You have a very close relationship with him but hardly know anything about your mother."

"Yes."

"You lived and served the Kamisato clan since birth, yes?"

"More like since I was a baby."

"And you wouldn't say no to my tricolor dango, would you?"

"What?"

He dries his hands by wiping on his attire, then unwraps a square box and reveals pink, white, and green glutinous balls pack neatly in a grid. It's messy in presentation, each ball being of a different size. Some are deformed to make way for others. It can't ever pass standards to be served to the Kamisato siblings. Still, there is a waft of freshly melted sugar and you feel heat emanating from it. That's what matters to you.

"Sorry, it's a bit squashed—Don't give me that look. I know you smelled it."

"I thought I was crazy!"

He hands it over as you try not to drool. You excuse yourself to wash your hands before returning, ready to ravenously finish everything.

"I'd have you know I would be insulted that's your criteria of me as a person under normal circumstances ." You chomp on a ball, closing your eyes to indulge in it. It's better than your dream, the flavors richer than you remember it to be.

"So what makes this not a normal circumstance?"

"This is too delicious. More chewing, less talking."

"See?" This time he's smug about it. "You're still the same person I know."

He grabs the remaining clothes in the basket and dumps them in soapy water. He doesn't start immediately though, his eyes lingering on you enjoying his dish.

Is there something on your face? Maybe you have dango around your mouth. Do you look silly gobbling his food? Why does he look at you like that? Fondness in his bright green eyes pairing with a smile so genuine it makes you giddy.

You hope your erratic heartbeat is not echoing in the room like how it is in your head. The detergent is suddenly more manageable than Thoma's scent.

He finally returns to the laundry, splitting the remaining amount in half. That prompts you to share your last tricolor dango which he accepts. With his hands buried under the water, he opens his mouth for you to plop a ball. With the box emptied, you join him, able to scrub with newfound strength.

"I can cook you something tomorrow. What would you like to eat?" he asks after swallowing the sweet.

"You'll be going against the head maid's orders. I don't want to cause you trouble."

"It's more trouble to deal with a hungry and irritated you than an angry head maid."

You did almost hurt him today…

"I'll try to do the laundry earlier too," you comment when he yawns, throwing the last cloth into the pile of cleanliness. "I'll be in bed before you so you have no excuses to make midnight trips to the kitchen."

He smiles and you mirror him, teeth and all.

"Great. Then we can definitely get it done on time for a good night's sleep, right?"

You don't protest, an answer of itself. A warm fuzzy feeling tumbles in your chest at the thought of doing laundry with Thoma tomorrow.

Once everything has been cleaned and hung, you bid him goodbye.

As you pass by a window, the bright full moon catches your eye. In the distance is the canopy of Chinju Forest. You recall that terrifying night. Your eagerness to reunite with your father. The strange comforting presence just before you awoke.

The wind sings that lullaby.

The last verse creeps into your mind as a distant memory of your mother singing to you.

But the wait will not make you weaker… Dream a dream little dreamer… Soon you shall meet with your seeker

.　⁺ . 　 ˚　✦　.　　+ ⁺　　 . ✦

additional note: as you can tell i'm not the best songwriter out there... thank you so much for requesting this! i know it's deviant from what you requested, but i hope you like it nonetheless!

#genshin reader insert #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #thoma x y/n #thoma x reader #thoma x you #slo.w #oneshot:ff4f72

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