phoenix-tails

[phoenix-tails]

No Rush~ | Venti 2025 Birthday fic 🍃

Venti x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff

Word count: ~1.2k

Warnings: Alcohol

Based on the new birthday letter! A picnic in the woods by the lake, made perfect by good company.

You notice the letter only because you were sure you shut that window just moments ago.

The breeze slips through now, light and perfumed with the early scent of summer blooms. You inch closer and find a folded piece of parchment sitting on the sill, sealed with a simple emerald green ribbon and the faint imprint of an anemo sigil pressed into teal wax. The ribbons flutter as if brought to life, tugged gently by the wind.

Curiously, you break the seal and unfold it.

"When you receive this letter, hold it in your hands and stand by the window."

You glance outwards, the parchment crinkling faintly between your fingers. Beyond Mondstadt's high walls, the sun hangs low and lazy in the sky, casting long golden sun rays over terracotta roofs and cobbled streets. The wind brushes your back, soft and persistent, and you swear you can almost hear a laugh carried on it. It’s a familiar sound to you.

Smiling, you reach for your cloak.

…

Outside, the city hums with life.

Down below the steps of your living quarters by the plaza, you pass by Sara at Good Hunter. She gives you a wave, midways through an order to a customer. The smell of seared meat and baked bread clings to the air, comforting and warm. Around the fountain plaza, kids chase pigeons, much to Timmie's dismay. Flora's flowers bloom bright and full in her shop, and she’s already organizing tomorrow’s bundles into neatly woven baskets.

You catch sight of Lawrence and Swan posted near the gate, alert despite the peaceful day. The two of them nod as you pass, though Swan’s eyes flick briefly toward the leaf that flutters ahead of you, light as a feather and drifting purposefully through the open archway.

The moment your feet touch the path outside Mondstadt’s gates, the wind tugs more eagerly..

The hum and buzz of the city fades, replaced by serene bird’s chattering and the low murmur of the wind as it weaves through trees and over hills. Cider Lake glistens around you as you cross the bridge, glassy and blue, and the familiar scent of dandelions, pine, and sun-warmed stone fills your lungs. Wildflowers sway beside the road. Dandelions, windwheel asters, and sweet mint nods along in the gentle wind.

The breeze pulls at your light cloak like an eager hand, encouraging but never rushing. You let it guide you through the crossroads, down a shaded path through the whispering woods, until the sound of your footsteps softens into grass.

And then you see it.

A checkered picnic blanket is spread beneath a sturdy tree by the lake’s edge, its canopy fluttering with green. A small basket sits at its center, half open, with the scent of sweet cider and sunsettias drifting lazily from within. There’s a lyre propped beside it.

And just a few steps away, you see him.

Venti turns at the sound of your approach, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun. His smile is instant, soft and charming.

“You came,” he says, like a verse finally finishing its line.

You let your steps carry you the last few feet, ignoring the way your heart beats just a tad louder.

“You sent the wind to fetch me. I couldn’t exactly ignore it.”

Venti laughs, and it’s a sound that fits the day perfectly. Light, bright, and just a little mischievous. “She does tend to be persuasive.”

You settle onto the blanket beside him. He tosses you a chilled bottle of apple cider and reclines beside you, arms tucked behind his head. His eyes are half-lidded as he gazes up at the sky, lashes catching the sunlight.

“I thought you might like this spot,” he murmurs. “It’s where the wind plays her softest songs.”

You pour the two of you a glass each before sipping the cider and glancing at him over the rim of your cup. “You mean it’s where you write yours.”

His eyes crinkle in a smile. “Well, maybe we work together on occasion.”

You both fall into a quiet rhythm then. The sound of the lake gently lapping the shore, birds chirping lazily from the trees, and Venti’s fingers idly plucking his lyre in between sips of cider and nibbles of sticky honey roast. A dandelion seed floats past, and he watches it go, humming under his breath.

You turn toward him. “You planned this just for me?”

“Of course,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “The wind told me you needed a day just like this. One where the city couldn’t find you. One with a lake and a song and… me.”

You’re quiet for a moment. Then…

“And you?”

His voice softens. “I needed it, too.”

He rolls onto his side, propping himself up with one elbow. The breeze catches his hair, making the braids sway gently. His gaze holds yours, uncharacteristically steady, completely unguarded.

“I like when you follow the wind,” he says. “But I love it when you follow it to me.”

You don’t answer, not with words, at least. You shift closer, letting your hand find his. His fingers curl easily around yours, warm and familiar. A content sigh escapes him, and he leans in until your foreheads brush, eyes slipping closed.

The breeze hushes, as if holding its breath.

You can feel the soft rhythm of his breath, his forehead resting against yours. Venti’s hand tightens around yours just slightly. Not possessive, not urgent. Just… sure. Grounded. Like the whole world has settled into place just for a little while.

His voice is barely a whisper. 

“You know, sometimes I sing for crowds. Sometimes for the gods. But this… this song in me right now…? It’s only for you.”

You chuckle slightly, heart fluttering like the rustling leaves around you. “Then sing it,” you suggest, voice low and warm.

He smiles, that rare kind of smile that doesn’t dance or tease, the kind that lingers. And instead of reaching for his lyre, he leans closer, letting his nose brush against yours.

“No need,” he whispers. “You’re already hearing it.”

And then, he kisses you.

It’s gentle, feather-soft as expected. Like a note plucked in the silence after a long melody. There’s no rush, just the press of his lips, light and warm, like the sunlight filtered through the canopy above. The hand not holding yours comes up to cradle your cheek, fingers cool from the breeze but trembling just slightly, like he can hardly believe you’re real and here and choosing him.

He can act as composed and sure of himself as he wants… But you know how to make him buckle.

You lean into him, tilting your head, deepening the kiss just enough that he exhales, not from surprise, but relief. It feels like something you’ve both been circling around for a long time, and now you’ve finally landed in it, safe and sound.

When you part, your foreheads rest together again, the edges of your smiles touching like they never left.

“Don’t tell the wind,” Venti says, breathless and giddy, “but that felt better than flying.”

You laugh, eyes glimmering with mirth. “I won’t… if you promise not to write a whole ballad about it.”

He lifts a brow, already humming a few suspicious notes. “...Too late.”

You shove him playfully, and he tumbles back onto the blanket, laughing freely and joyfully and completely at peace. You follow, resting beside him once more, your fingers still laced in his.

And above you, the breeze swirls again, content, mischievous, and full of songs.

[phoenix-tails]

WAIT! ONE MORE REQUEST AND I'M DONE I PROMISE-

So how about Sagau Zhongli, Venti, and Childe be like when their god, who has been known to be a single pringle ever since they came into existence, is suddenly announcing they are finding a consort among their acolytes?

word count. 2k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, sagau + cult au shit, religious themes, g/n reader.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. i had to go back and reread my childe fic to remember how i characterized him fuck my baka chungus life. anyway im sorry it's been a while but as it turns out if you sit down to write something you'll actually write, so here's this!!

zhongli

Despite himself, Zhongli is unable to quell the dim light of hope that swells in his chest.

It's one he's instantly ashamed of. Zhongli is, as one so aged and so familiar with you, intrinsically aware of how little he compares. Where you step, he follows; his mind beckons even if his body resists. To think of himself as somehow worthy of you would be his greatest folly.

Yet he does so anyway, no matter how desperately he tries to kill his arrogance.

The fear is overwhelming, but the acerbic aftertaste at the thought of you with anyone else is worse.

The shame at his own hubris gnaws away at him, but Zhongli can't find it in himself to entirely let it go, to better himself as he should. If bettering himself comes at the cost of losing the opportunity to be entirely yours, he would rather be consumed by his pride.

He knows he should be disgusted by himself. To want is a terrible sin. It's one thing to worship you, and another to see himself kissing your skin every time he closes his eyes.

When Zhongli is beside himself, alone with only his thoughts to keep him company, he wonders what it would be like to be yours. His mind supplies every possibility with no incentive. He aches, and wants, and feels so vividly and impudently that he thinks his thoughts must be some kind of punishment.

You're everything, he thinks. There is nothing in this world that is comparable to you.

What would it be like, to feel you? Would you give him that honor? Has he done enough to deserve it? Or do you torture him so, filling his mind with images— things he should never think, things he should never imagine— because he dares to think himself worthy of calling himself yours, in a manner no one else has before?

Zhongli's greatest failure is that he's unable to stop himself from wanting.

He's ached before. He ached for the thousands of years he spent without you. He ached when he saw you for the first time, enraptured, unable to understand how a form could be so perfect. He ached when he let his fingers linger on your skin for longer than he should at every opportunity, he ached when he wondered if you found his achievements worthy of praise, and he aches every time he has to leave your side.

This hurts more, somehow. To want for something he knows he could never receive. To want for something he knows he isn’t worthy of. But knowing doesn’t ease it, when he follows after you every day like an old, obedient dog; when your back is as familiar as the sky overhead, as commonplace a view; when he imagines what it must feel like to have your fingers run along his skin, touching and prodding, pressing long enough against his skin to leave imprints in their wake.

He wonders how heavenly it would be, to be yours. He imagines it so frequently it begins to become difficult to differentiate reality and fantasy. Your skin, his skin. His warmth, your warmth. Your touch, your touch, your touch.

You.

Zhongli doesn’t realize that he’s said anything at all until you’re staring at him, a certain look on your face that makes him stammer. It’s only the two of you, and suddenly the room feels much smaller than it is; every uniform pattern underfoot suddenly holding him still, the air suddenly dry, and his body suddenly tense and taut.

Zhongli wonders if this is fear. He wonders why it feels so cold. Why suddenly all he can see is you— why suddenly, nothing else matters.

His heart is tumultuous in his chest, aching and creaking and so, so loud. He can feel it in a way he’s never felt it before, and he wonders if this is how every mortal who’s ever knelt before him felt. Did they, too, feel their throat tighten by a phantasmal hand? Did they, too, feel so tiny and insignificant; like their lives were in the center of another’s palm, to be lauded or ignored?

Did they, too, wonder if they were enough?

You’re smiling, he realizes, but he doesn’t know if you’re smiling because you find it all amusing, or because you wish to comfort him.

Your smile is a thing of wonder. He finds it doesn’t matter if you’re doing so because you find him funny or pathetic; his fingers tremble either way.

“I was waiting for you,” you say, and you speak the words so softly he wonders if he misheard.

venti

Venti is aware he's too selfish for his own good.

He knows he shouldn't be as needy as he is. Ideally, he would rise at your call and simper at your demand; and he does, except he does it even when you haven't spoken a word.

Watching you with others feels like a brand on his skin. A strange, terrible emotion that he knows must be some sort of blasphemy. Venti washes it down with whiskey and wine and tries his best to mask it with mirth. You wouldn't like him if he was anything but the blithe bard who worships you.

He worships you. That's the problem, he thinks.

You don't even have to do anything specific for his skin to feel like it's not his own. You glanced away from him. You smiled at someone else. You laughed at something that wasn't him. You exchanged this look with someone else and it almost felt like there was something there in your eyes, something he could never have—

Venti stops the thoughts there. It's always been like this. He's demanding when he shouldn't be.

He's not ungrateful. He chokes on how intensely he loves you. It's so suffocating it hurts.

Venti wishes he could worship you properly.

He wishes he could have you all to himself. He wishes you'd never look at anyone else. He wishes he could have some sort of assurance that you love him past your words. He wishes he could stay by your side always, that he could stick himself to you, that he could intertwine your nerves and bodies until everything he is becomes all of you.

Selfish.

What you give him should be enough. But it's not.

You say you're looking for a consort. Venti's heart twists with a sickening flutter.

He imagines it so sweetly it's painful. He dreams of loving you purely. He writhes with restless agony every night. He wants to hold your hand and feel your warm palm against his. He wants to rest his head on your shoulder. He wants to touch you, delicately and softly, until he knows every part of you. He wants to know you, enough that it's a semblance of how much you know him.

That sort of intimacy is something he doesn't deserve. He wants it anyway.

Venti knows his thoughts are some sort of sacrilege. He doesn't care. All he wants is for you to hold him closer than you have before.

You'd be warm, he thinks, and his fingers twitch imagining it. He'd be safe with you.

He would be yours.

Selfish to want and arrogant to believe he has any place so close to you. Neither matter.

Venti lies his head on your lap, trying to appear as small as possible. Love me, he wants to whisper. Love me.

He doesn't. Instead, he says: "choose me."

Venti doesn't look at you. He tries to project confidence in his voice, but all that comes out is a weak tremble. It's still a plea, after all. He's still only begging you, even if he tries to paint it as something else.

You card your fingers through his hair, pinning his hair behind his ear. The softness hurts. It hurts more than the fact you haven't said anything yet.

He braces himself, hugging his arms to his chest.

"Okay," you say, voice warm and so, so soft.

Venti's chest heaves.

childe

Childe knows his thoughts are wrong.

His desires aren't what they should be. He should be happy you glanced at him at all, and for the brief, blissful moment where everything is you and you're all he knows, he is.

You look at him, and the world is right. The euphoria feels like it might break him each time, but he somehow manages to stay standing. A testament to his worship, he thinks, that he can hold on just long enough for you to look at him some more.

Then you look away, and suddenly it feels like you've just gouged out his heart and gutted him.

It's not your fault. You breathed life into his body, but you can't shoulder each of his mistakes.

A mistake, he tells himself. Something he needs to fix. You wouldn't like him if he showed you that part of himself.

It becomes harder to fix when you announce you're looking for a consort.

Suddenly, everyone looks more disgusting than they did before. They're not just people who are demented enough to believe they have any right to your time or attention. They're people who now believe they're worthy of you, and it's that thought that makes him sick.

There is nothing in this world that comes close to you. There is nobody in this world that could hope to be truly worthy of sitting by your side.

He feels his stomach twist because of the hope that dwells within it.

Childe remembers when you were all he had. Your whispers were his only company in the abyss. When he's with you, he's reminded of it, and every time you look away from him, he's reminded of how many times he called for you and was met with dead air.

People think he was saved when he was ripped from the abyss. Childe thinks anyone who believes that are fools. The day he was ripped from you felt more like a death than a miracle.

He doesn't blame you. You saved him and that should be enough. You look at him and that should be enough. You breathe in his presence and he should be euphoric to share your air. And he is, but so neatly tucked along the inseams of his soul are thoughts of how much better it would be if he didn't have to share you at all.

Childe tells himself the thoughts aren't his. The dreams aren't his. The will to make them into reality isn't his own. The urge and the turmoil aren't of his own making.

You're not his. Your gaze isn't his. Your attention doesn't belong to him. Your love is not uniquely his own. It can't be, he tells himself, but then you smile so sweetly in his direction, and he wonders if it could.

He knows he's pathetic and needy and sick. He knows the burning in the back of his eyelids every time he sees you with another is far from holy and far from what you deserve.

Childe's disgusted by the fervor and desperation of those around him. He's disgusted far more by his own desires. He's disgusted that he begins to lean into them as time goes on.

You smile, and he buzzes. You laugh, and his world tips. You look at him and he wonders if the affection he sees in your gaze could be anything more.

"Ajax," you murmur, petting his hair.

Childe kneels before you like a loyal hound. He doesn't move, hunching his shoulders. He wishes he could make himself smaller. Maybe he'd be more palatable. Maybe you'd like him more like that.

"Pick me," he says.

He doesn't realize he's spoken until your fingers stop threading through his hair.

Childe freezes, an apology on his lips, but he can't bring himself to speak. He can't bring himself to look up at you, either, his copper lashes trembling.

"I have," you say, your fingers resuming their ministrations as if you'd said the most obvious thing in the world.

Childe shivers, nestling closer, hiding his face so you don't see him break. You rub his trembling back despite it, shushing him gently as his tears wet your clothes.

[phoenix-tails]

Happy Birthday, Lyney!

Before we dive into an amazing magic performance, let's first enjoy a little activity that's just as full of surprises—

Yep, you guessed it! Unwrapping gifts! I'd love to share this joy with you.

Lynette and Freminet's gifts! Haha, they always stay true to their unique styles.

My wise and clever friend, could you help me think of an appropriate gift to give them in return?

[phoenix-tails]

Sickened Comforts w/ Venti -Venti Oneshot x Sick Reader- Modern AU

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You’re staying in bed due to a painful stomachache and your lover decides to come take care of you in the meantime. <3

It was just another boring day for you, minus the aching in your stomach and the nagging thoughts in your mind but having no motivation to do anything else at the time. Instead, you decided to rest and hope to feel better tomorrow, snuggling into your pillows and blankets and sighing while scrolling through messages on your phone in silence.

However, this silence was short lived as you felt a swift breeze, softly blowing in your hair before it stopped at suddenly as it started. Your eyes fluttered open, sitting up with a slight shiver as you glanced at the door.

“Hey, Windblume~” a familiar voice rang through your ears as bright turquoise eyes met yours. That sneaky bard.

“V…Venti.?! How did you get in here?” You ask, though your tone sounded a little more accusatory than you meant it. Truth was, your mood was instantly lifted when you saw him, as per usual. He laughed, raising his hand to nervously scratch behind his neck.

“Ahah.. wellll… I may have slipped through a window. You haven’t been responding to my messages so I figured maybe something was wrong?” He walked closer, gentle footsteps as he sat next to you on the bed with his legs over the side and feet on the floor of your bedroom. His braids silently shifted over his shoulders as his eyes were solely focused on you. “I was worried, I’ll admit.”

You sat up a little more, opening your phone to find over 10 messages from him, asking how your day had been, that he missed you, if you were okay, etc. You accidentally turned off notifications and didn’t get any of them.

“Ah! I’m sorry, Venti. I didn’t get any alerts or anything… I didn’t mean to make you worry-“ you were interrupted by a little kiss on your forehead.

“It’s okay, Windblume. Ehe.. that just gave me the excuse to come to you in person~!” He tucked a strand of loose hair back behind your ear with a sweet smile. “Now, what’s wrong? Not feeling well?”

You nodded, explaining your stomachache and lack of motivation to do anything that day. It was one of those days where it was too exhausting to even think, let alone doing anything productive for yourself.

“Have you been drinking enough water today?” He asked you with a smile, pulling out his water bottle for you to use. He already knew the answer, he was just waiting for you to admit it. And you did, reluctantly taking the water he offered. The both of you were very stubborn, but he was more adamant about your wellbeing that you were so it was always a losing game. Still, you wanting to wipe that smug smirk off his face as you swallowed a bit of water every so often.

“So…~ did you miss me~?” He giggled like a schoolgirl when you blushed.

“Of course I did, Venti. Always do.” He grabbed your hand and lifted it up, kissing the back of your palm.

“Good, otherwise I might have to annoy you to death.” He chuckled. “Do you need anything to help the pain? Medicine, food?” You smiled this time, scooting over to make room.

“Maybe a bit of warmth?” He looked happy at that, wasting no time to cuddle up beside you and let you rest on him. He hear him sigh and hook his arm around your back to bring you closer, or to make sure you didn’t pull away- one of the two.

After a while, he makes you put your phone down and turns it off, setting it aside and watching as you got tired while in the comfort of his arms. He kisses your forehead one more time, smiling.

“Sleep well, Windblume.” You closed your eyes.

-Written by Booh. ^^

Notes; A little gift for a friend and for anyone feeling a little off today and in need of our sweet bard. <3

[phoenix-tails]

Fucking Venti slow and passionate but he keeps arching his back, moaning like a whore and trying to get himself off. Leaving a trail of kisses around his neck, down his spine, and all the way down to his ass. He has to fight himself not to cum just from that little sensation. He is gone. Any question you ask him will be met with mumbling and incoherent sentences as answers. It's not like he isn't trying to answer you. He's trying soo hard to be a good boy for you. He's trying so hard not to cum he can't think about anything else. Your name is on repeat in his head. He wants you to praise him. Tell him he's been a good boy. Tell him he's your little slut. Tell him he's pretty when he cries.

[phoenix-tails]

You Turn my Shield on Me

Venti x gn!reader

Genre: i don't know i just write. no more questions

Word count: ~ 1.2k

Warnings: Mentions of a battle, weaponry

Summary:

He always asked if you'd protect him on your excursions. Turns out, he never needed to be protected after all.

The setting sun is doing little to warm you as you push yourself up from the cold, muddy ground. Your heart hammers wildly in your chest, chasing that rush of adrenaline as the sound of battle stills. Your weapon, dropped a distance away from you in the fray, glimmers mockingly at you as the light catches it. You had stumbled and fallen, but… that hardly matters right now. No, there are much more pressing matters at hand.

You look up at the man standing in front of you. His back still turned your way, an arm reaching out ready to draw another arrow at a moment’s notice. His moves are careful and practiced, practically perfectly honed. You’ve only ever seen aristocrats fight with such elegance and precision before…

Which is why this makes no sense.

“You’ll promise to protect me, right?”

It’s what he always says when you two go out exploring together. Or, rather when you go exploring and he tags along out of boredom. And you had always assured him that you’d never let harm befall him, always promised that you’d be his shield. After all, he was a novice at archery, he claimed. A bow was a difficult weapon to defend oneself with in the heat of battle without exceptional mastery of it.

Arrows still surging with Anemo energy litter the now desolate grounds turned battlefields. Each and every one of them had hit its target. Clean, lethal blows. As you finally catch your breath, remembering to breathe properly amidst your confusion, you see him turn to cautiously check on you.

“Are you alright…?”

…

There are so many things you want to say. So many things you want to ask. Your jaw drops open a few times over, you sputter and stutter and mumble out half-baked words and jumbled sentences until you give up, closing your mouth, and give him a slow, cautious nod. You are unharmed. And it was no thanks to yourself.

Venti watches you for another long moment. His eyes, much more focused than usual, scan you for injuries regardless of your insisting that you are fine. He knows you well. Quickly, that look is replaced by the familiar one you are so accustomed to. One you now doubt the sincerity of, just  a little bit. His shoulders relax and he exhales in relief for a moment before his posture straightens back up, his bow lowering to his side.

“Well, that’s a relief… We sure were lucky these monsters were on the easier side!”

Those words sting a lot more than you expected, though you can’t quite pinpoint why. Perhaps it’s because you know it’s not quite true. Perhaps It’s because you know those enemies hit hard. Fast. Ruthlessly.

And they certainly don’t stall for long enough for an inexperienced archer to pluck them off one by one like that.

And yet…

“You were incredible back there.” The words slip out before you can think to stop them. You’re not quite sure if it’s words of praise or an accusation. His mastery of the bow, the precision in his strikes… You couldn’t wrap your head around it. He said he wasn’t capable of that. That he needed your protection.

He blinks, and for a moment, his eyes shy away from yours, his lips pressed together a bit firmer than usual. Maybe this is what guilt looks like on him. But then he smirks, the easygoing, almost careless expression you’ve grown so accustomed to returning as if it had never left in the first place.

“Really, now? Praise from my most dearest muse, is it? I must fetch my pen at once, lest I mistake it for a dream!”

You’re not sure what comes over you. His words were nothing out of the ordinary from him, he’d tease and poke fun all the time. But… For him to act so casually, so normal after a display like that…

It irritates you.

“You said you were a novice,” you practically snap. “That it was just a hobby.”

“And you don’t believe me?” His tone is light, teasing, but there’s something guarded in his eyes. He steps closer, offering a hand to help you up. You hesitate for just a moment, but you take his hand, only now realizing that those delicate hands that pen the most beautiful prose you’ve ever read are firmer, sturdier than you could recall. Or perhaps you were only noticing now that you knew to look for it. He pulls you up to your feet with ease.

“I… No! Why should I?” you demand, brushing dirt from your roughed up clothes. “I’ve never seen you fight like that before..! Or, at all, for that matter! What was all that?” You gesture to the field littered with arrows and fallen enemies, your eyes never leaving his.

He tilts his head innocently to the side, his smirk fading slightly.

“Does it… matter that much?”

“Yes, it matters!!!” you exclaim, the words spilling out before you have the time or restraint to stop them. “It matters because I trusted you to rely on me! And now I find out you didn’t need me at all?”

There it is. The heart of your frustrations, the reason your chest aches as much as your bruised body. You’ve always been the protector, the shield, someone you wanted him to rely on. To feel safe with. And he’d let you believe he needed you, too. But now that picture in your mind breaks into a thousand pieces, and you both know very well you won’t be able to put it back together, no matter how much you try. You were too smart to believe his words, his deflections.

You hang your head, your gaze falling down to the muddy grounds beneath you. Though you can’t see his face, you can practically hear his emotions in the tone of his voice. It’s… raw. A bit more intimate than you think he intended.

“I never said I didn’t need you,” he whispers, his voice low and even as he takes a step closer. “I just don’t want to stand in the way of your talent…”

He seems almost unsatisfied with his own choice of words. Slowly, his hand reaches out, searching for yours, taking hold of and wrapping around your fingers so delicately as if he’s asking permission.

“...My warrior, you would have had this in the box, regardless if I stepped in or not. I just… didn’t want to see you hurt. You don’t need my protection, but… you have it.”

It’s not quite an answer, and it certainly doesn’t answer as many questions as you would have liked. But, there’s an honesty in his tender voice that makes your heart hammer again. Your lips part, intending by all means to press him further, to demand answers about his skills, his lies…but the words die on your lips as your shoulders sag to match the dejected feeling of reluctant acceptance. You knew better than anyone how avoidant Venti could be when faced with such a direct accusation. You knew better than to press further to achieve nothing.

“...Okay. Let’s go home.”

His grip on your hand tightens, bringing your attention back to the moment. And as you walk home, he doesn’t let go of you even once. His grip is gentle, apologetic, begging for understanding and time to explain what happened today. And, albeit reluctantly, you grant him that grace as your fingers interlace with his.

[phoenix-tails]

[phoenix-tails]

i love drawing him

[phoenix-tails]

Lyney stimboard

🎩 🔥 🎩

🪄 🌹 🪄

🎩 🔥 🎩

[phoenix-tails]

Hoyofair Lyney!

[phoenix-tails]

hello hello!!! as for the event can i ask lyney (if you write for him, ofc!!) with "making them perfom tricks" plus "begging"? i thought about him right when i read the first prompt. 😭

hope you have a nice day!!! :D

Thank you :] I was a little lost on what to do as ‘tricks’ but @illustrious-ia helped me brainstorm

Dom!reader x sub!lyney - reader is GN

Warning: strip tease, anal play, dildo & bullet vibrator, teasing, voyeur (?)

Anniversary event

The click of the door, loud footsteps as he walks up the stairs, a heavy sigh before he enters your room, all blushy already when you two locked eyes. “How did your performance go?” You stared up from the bed, sitting up, smiling softly. “Everything went well, you’d expect nothing less from the greatest magician.” Lyney said, ruffling one hand through his dirty-blond hair. “A shame you weren’t there to watch me.”

Slowly, he got closer to you, kneeling down at the bed post, looking at you with such adoration. “You are right, so, won’t you give me a private performance?” His eyes lit up at that, and he smirked mischievously, “my pleasure.” Afterward, he stood up again, undressing himself with a teasingly slow pace, feeling your gaze on his body. “Please watch me carefully.” The boy mumbled, untying every single ribbon on his body. This was a game he enjoyed to play, to test your patience and to egg you on.

“You shouldn’t let your audience wait so long, they might get bored and leave you know?” You said, hinting at something, though you knew he wouldn’t fall for that. “I have no need for an audience who can’t appreciate the art of waiting.” Lyney answered you confidently, now taking off his gloves and peeling off his leg wear. The way he did it was provoking, wriggling his hips around, doing his best to show you his chocolate side. Seeing how much effort he was putting in, you decided to give up, “mhm, is that so? Fine, I’ll wait.”

Once he was entirely stripped of his clothes, he did a little twirl as if to showcase a pretty dress, though he wasn’t wearing one. He let you take a good look at his body, not an ounce of shame present in his actions. You clapped sarcastically, saying, “oh lyney, our greatest magician, please show us a worthwhile trick~” he bowed at your two faced compliment, replying with, “why of course, I’m sure the next act will be splendid!”

Then, to your surprise, he grabbed a nearby chair and put it in front of you, so that you’d have a good view of the object. After that, he grabbed his black hat and continued his little show. “Next, my lovely audience, I’ll pull an item out of my hat~” he kept going with this persona of his, acting as if he was searching for something with an arm completely buried in that hat of his. “Ahh, my apologies, it seems it’s quite cramped in here.” You waited with bated breath, staring at him intensely as he pulled out… some cards, some tape, a plushy, a rose bouquet that he drew at you, some vibrators and a suction dildo.

“Haha, sorry for the long wait, there it is, what I was looking for.” Now he was grinning all excited, pressing the toy against the chair, strapping the vibrators to his chest and already fully erect member. Once he was done, he hovered above the silicon toy, using the tip to poke at his entrance, before slowly taking the gland in. He didn’t use lube nor did he prepare himself, and with one swift motion he sat down completely. “Nghh~ w-what do you think, y/n? Pretty impressive, huh?” Finally he broke his facade, one hand clenching the edge of the chair, the other one holding a book.

You caught the bouquet with a confused look, wondering if it was a part of the shoe. It must be, considering he doesn’t do useless things. When you looked closely at the bouquet, you found remotes in it, which were probably for the vibrators on his nipples. With a big grin, you turned it on, listening to the low vibration sound and his lustful gasps. He was withering, an aroused look across his features as his insides tightened around the toy. You stared at the way his small body eagerly swallowed the huge toy, clenching around it with such fever. “Yes, I am enjoying myself. Go on, mr. Magician.”

He took a while until he could maintain eye contact with you, then declared with a shaky voice, “n-now, I’ll read you a s-story, hnnGggh.. while riding this, ah, toy.” So, basically he was saying, ‘watch me while I become a needy bitch for you’. You wanted to comment on it, to maybe stand up and ‘help him’ as an assistant, but he continued his speech with, “p-please stay seated until the end. When I’m done, we can gladly do some fan meetings ♥︎”

[phoenix-tails]

Furina stimboard

🫧 🎭 🫧

💙 🌊 💙

🫧 🎭 🫧

[phoenix-tails]

DEVOTED TO YOU , FEM READER , venti drabble , NSFW

- you were a mortal, a being of pure and unfiltered humanity it almost reeked from the cracks and crevices of your bones; something so fragile and easily breakable.

- and he was shackled down with the title of a god, the manifestation of freedom itself bound by the strings of celestia. his godhood loomed over his shoulders for every waking moment, breathing down his neck.

-the relationship was taboo. if it were common knowledge the god of freedom found themself completely and utterly enthralled by the grace of a human, he was sure the title would be stripped from him within an instant.

-how pathetic would it be for someone to be bound by another, starstruck by even the mention of their name? concepts such as freedom and freewill held no place within the nature of his devotion to you, almost too eager to spend the rest of his life tied to you.

-he worshipped you as if you were the god, and he were your precious little devotee. eager to please and provide for his creator.

-this worship, ever so gracefully, seeped into the satin sheets of your bedroom rendezvous.

-he’s a gentle lover. soft kisses of adoration, feathery whispers of exaltation and fleeting touches to the soft of your skin.

-time begins to slip away from his mind as he peppers your body with praise, the only notion within his mind a need to please his beloved.

-lost within the moment, he utters out a tender “i love you” as his nimble fingers slip between the heat of your thighs.

-hes a bard; when it comes to hand coordination, its listed within the job description to be skilled with your fingers.

-and he indulges within his talent, much to your satisfaction.

-once you’ve been intimate a few times, he mentally maps the ways to make you squirm and writhe under his touch. everything you thought you’d kept hidden documented and stored within his mental cabinet.

-your his first—it’s something he doesn’t keep hidden. yet, with the way his fingers are so deliciously curling within you, it almost seems like a bluff. a way to undermine your expectations, only to completely and utterly trod all over them later on.

-while his two fingers slip in and out of you, which he makes sure to comment on how well you’re taking him, he graciously laps up anything that spills from you.

-you taste so sweet, he cleans you up as if it were his first meal in millennia. flattening his tongue against your folds and nibbling on your bud, all while his fingers prudently delve within you.

-he licks his lips and smiles, whispering how thankful he is for you to bestow such a blessing upon someone like him. dirt like him being the cause as to why your cheeks flush and eyes roll back, biting your lip just the way he likes as your hands rip at the bedsheets.

-it drives him insane—you drive him insane.

-every twitch of your hip, every whine from the puff of your lips, every desperate mewl of his name; its as if he were the one being pleasured.

-once you reach your peak, his freehand intertwines with your own as you release onto his tongue, in which he is so, so grateful for.

-a mantra of praise spills from his lips, his gratitude amplified by the way his pupils gawk at you with the same adoration a devotee would their god.

-your the object of his worship—the one he finds himself praying too each night, the one he abandons his morals for in favour of being on his knees in front of you.

-he loves you, basically.

[phoenix-tails]

Xingqiu stimboard

🗡️ 💧 🗡️

🖋️ 📖 🖋️

🗡️ 💧 🗡️

[phoenix-tails]

Furina summoning and hiding behind her 3 salon solitaire friends when she's scared is even more moving when you think they were her imaginary friends - and only friends - for hundreds of years of loneliness, brought to life by her newly acquired vision to protect her

She even looks relieved after they appeared, it's like they pop out as a defense mechanism when she's unwell and I love it

[phoenix-tails]

Neko Lyney.

neko lyney x fem.reader. Topic: you basically rub Lyney's ears and play with his tail, whatever... You just treat him like a kitty.

hope you guys enjoy! I made this 'cause I saw some fanarts on pinterest about him as a catboy, and I couldn't help to make a short oneshot about him!

Magic, applause, curtain closing, a show at the top! The perfect combination that every magician wants to have in their shows. Lyney, young and playful magician with some feline characteristics. Cat ears, a feline tail, and personality traits, like: he liked to sleep more in the mornings than at nights.

It was not surprising that in Teyvat there were people with different feline characteristics, like his sister: Lynette.

After an arduous day full of quests and problems, your energy was depleted to the point that you couldn't last long without feeling exhausted. You walked home, to your warm home in Fontaine, where you suddenly remembered a very important detail,

"I forgot I left the spare keys of my house in a easy spot to find, shit... I hope no one finds them and breaks in," you though, with some uncertainty.

Suddenly you speed up your pace towards your house and go up a long ramp until you reach your door. You reach into your pocket for your keys and insert them into the sockets, twisting it to open it. You push the door and enter, slowly. You close the door behind you and feel a presence, but you weren't sure who it might belong to.

You decide to gently leave your adventurer's equipment on the furniture in the entryway. You went up the stairs with a silent and cunning step like that of a feline. As soon as you got up, you walked into your room with a yawn, and that was when you closed the door behind you and a familiar voice echoed,

"Hello again, spectator!" He joyfully utters what you turn around, startled and confused. “It's a joy to see you arrive! I thought the sun outside was enough to illuminate the room, but I see that now that another star has set foot here, I find myself captivated by how radiant you look today."

"Why did you sneak into my room out of nowhere, Lyney?" you ask him and his tail just wags to the sides in a relaxed and gentle manner, smiling.

"A good magician never reveals his tricks!" he pauses dramatically to take a step towards you. "I guess I can make an exception for you... Since it's not a big deal."

You remain silent, looking at him, waiting for his answer even if it was very obvious, but for some reason you wanted to hear it said, confessed and explained in depth. You cross your arms and generate a feeling of authority in yourself.

Lyney's ear flicks. "You see... Today I had gone to your house to visit you, but when I saw that you were gone, I remembered that you normally leave a spare key outside your house, and it seemed to be the case that you left them in a very bad place... To prevent intruders from entering, I kindly offered to take the keys and go inside to look for you, but not seeing you, I was too lazy to go out and stayed inside."

"You are definitely not an intruder..." you tell him sarcastically, rolling your eyes with a playful smile.

"But don't be mean, you won't throw me out of your house, right?"

"Be aware that you are breaking a law, more specifically, article 202: Whoever, without living there, enters another's house or remains there against the will of its resident, will be punished with a prison sentence of 6 months to 2 years," you tell him, your tone firm, but maintaining a playful tone.

"Well, well... You have decided to become interested in human rights, right?" A sly grin appears on his lips. "I don't think you're stone-hearted enough to shove away a poor abandoned kitten..."

"Now that you're here, no... I won't kick you out, nor report you. You're lucky to be close to me."

"Well... Thank goodness you're not as bad a person as they say." As if it were his home, he avoids you and walks, sitting on your bed crossing his legs. Seeing your annoyed expression, he raises his hands in defeat. "Just kidding."

"You better be," you snort.

Walking towards him, you take a place on your bed, and lie down on one side, your head resting on the pillow and the rays of sunlight coming from the sun pass through your window gracefully and prostrate themselves on your figure. Today was a hard morning, but it's the only thing you could do. Your priority now was to rest.

An unusual silence forms in the environment with the singing of birds muffled by the closed windows. You try to close your eyes, to have a proper rest even though Lyney is still doing his thing. In a flash, the young boy does not hesitate to play a joke and approaches you, hesitating for a few seconds whether to do what he intended to do. He sits next to you, his body in contact with yours. A light breath coming from him, but his heart racing slightly. His tail lands on your face, just to bother you and take away the feeling that you were going to rest.

"Lyney... What are you doing? Let me rest," you say as you sit on the spot, you lightly rub your eyes and look at him, he just responds with a smile.

"You already know that cats have healing effects. That's why I'm committed to helping you relax," Lyney explains to you, one of his ears flicking before, without even giving you time, he places his head on your chest, his weight making you lay down again. "You know what to do, right?"

"Are you saying you want me to pet you?" you ask, and Lyney nods, even though he knows he'll probably fall asleep before you.

One of your hands goes to his head and you gently begin to caress him. A small, silent but adorable feline sound is heard as a sign of having received the sensation. While you caress him, Lyney tries not to make the moment uncomfortable with the occasional pleasant sound, and only limits himself to purring and warming you with his body.

You had forgotten for a moment that cats usually have sensitive areas, and that is why you decide to change the area and start massaging behind the ears. His ears slowly lowering, giving you more access to pet him without having to move your hand much.

You hear how the purrs intensify and your body feels cushioned, you can't help but smile and let out a light giggle, but you don't realize that your partner had already fallen asleep.

Your eyelids feel heavy and you close them, your hand resting on his head. You weren't expecting to fall asleep so quickly, but when you added his purrs and the fact that he was already exhausted, it made more sense.

A smile curls on Lyney's lips.

This one was quite rushed... Even so, I hope it was not too cringe to read ≽^•⩊•^≼

[phoenix-tails]

furina who has sex with a human first time…hm..

”What is this..?“

She points at the long object, pointing at the strap-on in the box of the toys you bought.

”It‘s uh..a strap on, also known as a dildo. It‘s a replacement for a penis which attaches to straps or a pair of knickers and can be used for vaginal or anal penetration of any gender identity.“

You get a little embarrassed for having to explain everything to Furina because she doesn‘t know how this all works. Poor baby never had done this before, and this is her first time with you.

You kept explaining the toys to her, toys such as all sorts of vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, nipple clamps, etc. You see the red blush forming on Furinas cheeks as she listens to you explaining everything.

You get even more embarrassed when she points at your clothed pussy. ”And..whats that? I have it too, right?“ How more pathetic can this precious woman be? Has she really missed out this much in the last 500 years? You give a quick nod, feeling visibly flustered as you try to process the information you just heard, then you reach down, unzipping your pants and letting them slide down your legs onto the bed. You place your hands on the waistband of your underwear, slowly and gently pulling it down over your hips, putting it on the bed next to you.

”Uh..where you pointed at, it‘s the..um..“

You let out a fake cough before continuing to talk. You get more embarrassed every second.

”..it‘s the vagina. it’s the elastic, muscular part of the female genital track, and it‘s where you put in the penis and where a baby descends during childbirth. And yes, yes, you have it.“

”Can I touch it?“ Furina looks down and reaches down to touch yours, not knowing that you’re sensitive down there, making you hiss so you quickly pull her hand away, flustered. ”Don‘t..don‘t do that, Furina.“

Shes so innocent during all of this that she even takes off her white shorts and pulls down her underwear to touch her own cunt back and forth slowly. You feel yourself flushed with excitement and arousal as you look at her touching herself so innocently..not even knowing what shes doing. You listen to her quiet noises, her damn noises that make you so wet.

Her eyes slightly widen when you took her wrist and guided her fingers to your wet cunt, guiding her fingers back and forth on your cunt as you start to let out noises as well, back arching slightly. You let her wrist go, and Furina does what you just guided her to do. Moving her fingers up and down your cunt before accidentally slipping one inside you. That took you by surprise.

“N—nhh..Furina…! Just like that..you‘re doing so good…just like that..in and out…“

You reach out to the box beside you and take out the strap-on you desperately want inside you and hand it over to Furina. You help her put on the strap and then position herself on top of you, between your legs before gripping the strap and slowly sliding it inside you, gripping her hips and helping her move back and forth until you let go of her hips, moaning softly as she gently thrusts inside you.

”Nnh..like..this? Am I doing good…?“

Such a baby…you love her so much. You nod weakly and she picks up speed, pounding in and out of you faster as she stares down at the strap in amazement and hunger, seeing it thrust into your pussy so easily, it makes her think how it would feel like when she puts her tongue inside you if that works. Precious girl doesn‘t know much about this all and just does what you tell her to do, and she just accepts it. You dug your nails into Furinas back making her whimper, but she doesn‘t mind, continuing to thrust into you.

You knew that you‘re going to cum, so you wrapped your legs around her waist, hoping to get the strap even more inside you as possible. Your moans and whimpers echoed through the whole room with her quiet grunts and other noises.

With one final thrust, lots of cum squirts out of you and on the strap while it drips down to the bed sheets, making it messy. Furina looks down at the white sticky liquid and is fantasized, reaching out to touch it, the liquid wrapping around her fingers before she puts her finger into her mouth, having a taste of it. The view makes you embarrassed and you quickly pull her arm away, looking at her with big embarrassment.

”Fuck…nnh…hah…I didn‘t know you are so good at this…“

”But I..never did this before. Also the taste of the liquid tastes good..can I have more? Can I stick my tongue down there…?“

Huh..? Did you hear that right? You pull on her cheeks and pout, getting her to whimper, and she pulls your hands away from her cheeks. Sighing, you answer her question with a fucked out face.

”Go on…but do you even know how it works? Here, let me help you.“

You help her lay down between your legs, gripping her hair gently. ”Take out your tongue, pretty girl,“ She complies, and you already let out a noise as you felt her tongue on your messy cunt ”Like this..?“

You nod and guide her head up and down, and she already kitty-licks your pussy with that shy face. Fuck, you just want to fuck her until she can‘t move anymore for at least a day, but you know you‘re too lazy to do that right now. Shes even licking all of your cum, taking it into her mouth before swallowing it all. Does she seriously love it so much already? God, she learns fast, you thought.

”Mmmh…! Just like that, good girl…you learn so fast…“

Maybe next time, she‘s going to be even much better. You‘re first going to show her how it all works today.