#cynsbadbadnsfw

[cynettic]

toxic traits (genshin men x gn!reader)

summary - toxic relationships with genshin men

pairings - diluc / albedo / zhongli x gn!reader

warning - minors dni, slight nsfw implications 

a/n - i haven’t written genshin in such a long time, the first thing i end up writing? dirty prompts at a library listening to mozart, lovely.

Diluc loves like fire. A smoldering heat that burns to the touch, calloused hands that grip the lengths of your arm to hold you closer, and tighter still. Diluc cannot get enough of you, burying your face into the collar of his waist coat until oxygen is no longer taken for granted. There’s no use in struggling with fire, a flame that enraptured you whole, tinging the hems of your shirt, of your skin, of your heart. Diluc loves like an inferno, and you will be unable to escape when he nuzzles his nose into your neck and calls you his. 

Albedo loves like an addict. An obsessive touch that lingers and pauses on your hip, but never strays. Albedo breathes you like a drug, hands smoothening the wrinkles on your vest, hands helping unbutton your blouse. There is no getting in between his urges, his desires, for Albedo has no self restraint when it comes to this placebo. To this addiction. You will have to succumb to his soft words when he tells you to close your eyes, when his hands rest on your hips and he orders you to feel. When he submits to the daily dose of temptation called you.

Zhongli loves like a disciple. An unwavering pledge to you and you only. Zhongli loves like the action is a worship and you are his god, like hands and knees buried to the ground will never suffice to the gracious things you have offered him. Until his hands take hold of your calves and he can press a kiss to your thigh and prove to you just how much he loves you. Your mewls of satisfaction are commands from his supreme being. Your word is law, and Zhongli will do anything in his power to surrender to you.

[cynettic]

consequences (zhongli x gn!reader) NSFW

summary - you had never considered zhongli to be that kind of man, always polite and respectful you hadn’t known what he would be like in bed.

pairings - gn!reader x zhongli

warning - NSFW (smut, overstimulation, etc.)

a/n - damn i haven’t written genshin in a while and the first thing i deliver is smut :’)

There were things about Zhongli you had never considered before. How he woke up in the mornings, how he’d be in a relationship, how he would fuck. Trivial things. Yet his gentleman composure had been all you’d seen, and you were oh so wrong to think that it was all there was to him.

But everyone makes mistakes.

Some more grave than others, but the similarity in all of them were that you could not turn back and change your decision. These miscalculations were in the past, and you’d have to deal with the consequences.

But fuck, you weren’t prepared to deal with the repercussions of this mistake.

Large hands grabbed at the flesh of your hips, thumbs rubbing smooth circles up and down as you were forcefully lifted up and down. Manhandled with only the mind to grab onto the broad shoulders of the man in front of you and hold on for your dear life. Because the sensations that wracked your body with every motion of his length inside you left you a bubbling mindless mess.

“Zhongli,” You managed to gasp, nails digging into the skin of his back. “Zhon- mmm slow d-down…”

But all you were met with was his stone cold stare, hands tightening on your shaking form, trembling hands that threatened to cave in. You couldn’t get him to understand that this was too much, left to bare with his fast thrusts and strong arms that refused to let you go. Forcing you down on him again and again till your overstimulated sex trembled and grew numb with sensitivity. Till you were a moaning mess that could only utter his name.

But you had made the mistake.

And you had to deal with the consequences, whether you liked it or not.

[cynettic]

revenge is dish served cold (childe x gn!reader NSFW)

summary - you greet childe with a morning surprise that he doesn’t quite like, and the harbinger knows just how to get his revenge.

pairings - gn!reader x childe

warning - NSFW (smut, edging, teasing, degrading)

a/n - wrote this during socials class, while watching a french documentary about ww1, so yknow :,)

You remembered clearly how sensitive he’d been, hands gripping the bedsheets and thighs rubbing against each other to create more friction on his lower half. You had nothing against your boyfriend, but to see him needy to this extent had been far too tempting with his form sprawled along the length of the bed, vulnerable and whining.

It was rare to wake up before Childe, and even more rare to wake up to the sight of him moaning. Asleep.

He was saying your name.

So who were to blame you when your hands glided along his hard length, fingertips running up and down to see his reactions. A chain of mews and cries as he bucked his hips for your hand, begging for more.

Childe never begged.

That’s why you let yourself enjoy the moment, the way his face constricted in pure desire at the beck of your hands. The way he shuddered when he got close to the high he chased so feverishly, the way his face scrunched up when you pulled away. Refusing him his climax.

The harbinger woke up soon after, lurching out of bed wet and sore. Needy. With only blurry sensations for memories, and the nagging suspicion that you were the cause of it.

“I’ll see you later Childe!” He heard you call out soon after, the familiar rustle of coats and clacking of shoes as you got ready to leave. But he could also hear the shrill giggle that followed the sound of the door closing.

That had given him all the confirmation he needed.

Revenge, he then decided, was a dish best served cold.

“I’m sorry-“ those were the words Childe had wanted to hear. “I’m sorry!” Although hearing them now was a tad bit too late… “ C-Childe!”

“Hmm? I didn’t quite hear you, come again?”

Words were hard to form when sprawled along the dining room counter, chest and stomach pressed to the surface of the smooth marble, hands gripping the edge to not fall off. But most of all, it was the hands that gripped your hips, the contact as something rubbed up and down your clothed sex that made it so hard to focus. The lower half of your clothes had been ripped off when you entered the house.

You’d known from the moment you entered the apartment that there was a danger to your boyfriend being home. A risk that you had overlooked when planning to grab a snack from the kitchen and head to bed to sleep.

You hadn’t considered him to be waiting, nor for him to grab you without a word and push you against the kitchen counter.

But you had no other option but to cry out what he wanted in hopes it would lessen how rough he would be. You were exhausted after work, and the friction of his cock against your barely clothed core had you shaking. Trembling in need but of someone who was worn out and too drained to fight back. Childe knew this, and perhaps that’s why he chose now to have his revenge.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, breathe hitching when he rose your hips higher.

“I’m sure you are,” he hummed, “But that won’t make me any less gentle or lenient.” He leaned in close, warm breath fanning your neck. “You get what you deserve.”

[cynettic]

Reader x Genshin Boys NSFW

Summary - You wear their shirt that’s too big for you the morning after a steamy night ;)

Pairings - Fem!Reader x Xiao/Aether/Diluc

Warnings - NSFW, yknow what that means folks, no minors

A/N - I plan to do a part 2 with more characters after, idk which ones tho

Xiao

He will stare.

Right after you walk out of your bedroom doors, heading over to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee. Xiao will probably be on the coach, enjoying a plate of Almond Tofu for breakfast that you prepared for him in the fridge.

Easy to say that he will leave the plate on the counter to stand up and walk towards you.

At this stage of your relationship, the two of you were quite comfortable with physical contact, after all the two of you literally fucked last night. So he’ll slowly wrap his arms around your waist, noting that it was indeed his shirt, that it was quite big on you ( to his satisfaction ), and that you looked damn well in it.

“Is that my shirt?”

He will still ask, and when you reply that yes, it is indeed his shirt, he will bury his head against the crook of your neck.

“It smells like you.”

It also smells like what happened last night, but Xiao wont comment that, leaning against you with slightly tinted cheeks. Its enough to turn him on, much to his embarrassment, and he’ll press a few kisses to the back of your neck to distract himself.

By the time you finish making your coffee, you pour an extra cup for him, turning around to quickly peck him on the lips. But the extra shade of red on his face and the hard sensation below doesnt go missed by you, and with a chuckle you pull him closer.

“After last night?” You tease, pressing yourself further against him just to hear him grunt, rubbing against him slightly.

Xiao has his limits.

And you… well you asked for it.

He’ll sit you up on the counter, right beside the long forgotten coffee that’ll probably go by unmissed and grow cold by the time hes done with you.

He will start slow, torturous because you teased him first, and hes going to make you pay for it. Not too long though, cause he doesnt want to delay his need either.

Pressing a few butterfly kisses on your stomach, he will slip his head under his big oversized shirt.

“X-Xiao! Hey-”

He will quickly move up, just until his lips reach your breasts, and he toys with the nipples, nipping and biting them with his tongue and teeth. He’s still under the shirt, and all you can do is press his head closer to your chest while soft whimpers escape your lips.

The sound is music to his ears.

By the time he makes it to your lips, the shirt you were wearing is thrown off, strewn somewhere in the kitchen, you cant remember where.

“Y/n, this is what you want right?” Xiao will always ask for consent, and especially after wearing you off last night, he wants to make sure not to hurt you.

When you respond with a yes, he wont waste his time rubbing against you, instead shoving off the shorts he had on for the day, and pressing himself deep inside you until you’re yelping and clenching his shoulders desperately. Writhing at every thrust and calling out his name. He obviously has the stamina and strength to not be tired from last night, but you’re a different story.

Safe to say that you arent going places after that.

Aether

He will try to be more inconspicuous, but yeah, hes staring at you.

You cant blame him, after last night, you’re wearing his ‘shirt.’ If that isnt a turn on he doesnt know what is. He’ll definitely try to hide it though, shift uncomfortably and move his head away so you cant see him completely flushed red.

His mind is definitely going places.

He doesnt want to push you after last night, and even though he isnt really tired in the slightest, he knows you’re probably still sore, even though he was gentle.

You’re oblivious to whatever’s going on in his head, that is, until you go sit on his lap.

“Uhm… Aether?”

He’ll blame it and say its just ‘morning wood’, to which you dont believe him at all. But not wanting to embarrass him further, you sit beside him and instead pull him into a kiss. This he can handle, but a few kisses end up going farther than just a makeout session, and clothes fly off, especially his shirt around your shoulders.

By the time Aether realizes that this was what he was trying to avoid, it was too late. He will ask if youd like to proceed with it, and you laugh and tell him you’re alright, and to continue.

When he enters you, he will be slow, too slow. You push against him to encourage him to go faster, grinding your hips against his member until hes fully entered. It wont take long for him to start pumping in and out, pressing soft kisses to your lips when you whine and scratch his back.

By the time you both finish, Aether will carry your tired form back to bed. Wrapping you in the blankets and letting you rest there for the remainder of the day. Its his free day off, so you’ll get a breakfast in bed.

The boy is just too sweet and precious <3

Diluc

This man will choke on whatever hes eating.

Diluc absolutely sucks at hiding the surprise when watching you stride in so confidently wearing ‘his’ shirt. Which is oversized by the way, and drifts down to your knees while still slightly exposing your figure. He covers his stare with a cough, greeting you a goodmorning.

You don’t notice, mumbling a goodmorning and pressing a kiss against his forehead. When you lean down though, he gets a good look at your cleavage, and he swears hes going to lose it. But Diluc is known for being a man of patience and self control.

Until he isnt.

It starts with a kiss, it always starts with a kiss. Slow and passionate, until you’re in his lap and he cant take it anymore. Until all he wants to hear are the whimpers that escape your throat and the soft breathless calls of his name begging for you.

“Ill make you feel good Y/n.”

And he does.

Its your fault, you shouldnt have worn his shirt, shouldnt have provoked him after such a long night. But you dont say no, dont object as he picks you up and takes you to the bed, slowly draping you down.

The lower half of your body is hanging off the bedside, bare as he lowers himself to level his lips to your thighs. You dont move against the contact against your legs, his kisses drifting further up, higher and higher.

When he reaches your wet pussy, he rubs his lips against the cloth of your panties, moving his lips to kiss and suck. You clench your inner thighs against his head, hands coming to tousle his hair.

“D-Diluc…”

He wastes no time to pull your panties down, sliding them down your legs torturously slow before gazing at your dripping wet lips. You squirm and try to press your legs together as if you can feel his gaze on your cunt, but he holds your thighs wide open for him with his large calloused hands. His thumbs rubbing over the soft delicate skin of your hips.

The contact of his lips sucking on your clit sends you on overdrive, and you’re quivering. When his tongue slides into your wet hole, your legs are rubbing against his shoulders, back and forth as you writhe against the pleasure climbing up your body.

He knows exactly the effect he has on you.

Its not too long until you cum, muffling your cries into the sheets as your hands clench the blankets on the side. He licks all of it off your pussy, and you dont have enough energy to moan against the continuous blissful contact on your sensitive cunt.

Pulling you up and under the covers, he lays beside you, pressing your face against his chest. You fall asleep in no time, tired after a second round.

[cynettic]

Hey! Can I request the "You wear their shirt that's too big for you the morning after a steamy night "but with childe, kaeya ,albedo and zhongli! Thank you

Reader x Genshin NSFW

Summary - You wear their oversized shirt after a steamy night.

Pairings - Fem!Reader x Childe / Zhongli / Kaeya

Warnings - NSFW so no minors plsss

A/N - Someone else asked for Albedo, so I’ll do that one soon! Hope you liked these ones though :) They’re a bit more descriptive than the last ones I did tho- so be careful if you’re not into that.

Childe

Often busy, the one instance where he has a bit of time before work passes by, and you walk out in his large shirt after a steamy night.

At this time in the morning, he’s sipping his morning coffee, eyeing the newspaper or whatever’s on the table.

That all changes when you walk in.

Of course he notices, and resting his elbow on the couch arm, he simply stares. Doesn’t attempt to hide his flirtatious smile and just waits till you notice his very persisting gaze.

When you turn to him, his eyes give you the sensation you might as well be bare naked.

��When did I ever say you could wear my shirt?”

He says this teasingly ofc, you wearing his shirt is the hottest thing he could’ve seen all day. Makes him very happy.

But you deciding to tease him right back, you pout, tugging at the hem of it. “You dont want me to wear it?” He tries to protest and say it was a joke and not to take it personal, but before he can even start, you pull the shirt off.

You have nothing under the shirt.

Nothing.

Flinging the shirt back into his lap, you turn back to the bedroom. “There you go, I’ll find something else to wear.” You make sure to strut, hips swaying from side to side as you touch the doorframe.

You don’t make it to the bedroom.

Childe’s hand glides down your pelvis, wrapping around your waist as the other pulls your hair back so he can give you a kiss on the neck. You’ve captured his full attention, and even though he has work soon, your antics stirred him up.

God… now all he wants to see is you ‘begging’ for him.

Childe has the awful tendency to turn almost everything into a competition, and you struck a nerve. He will waste no time in letting you know who is in control of who.

He pins your arms above your head, holding your wrists in one hand with ease. But holding you so tightly up, your back is arched, posture straight and breasts perked outwards with the awkward position.

“That was awfully bold of you Y/n~”

His other hand cups your breast, molding it in his hand. Index finger pressing down on your nipple while the rest of his hand rubs your tits in a down and up motion. You sink into the feeling, a content sigh leaving your lips as you lean into his touch.

Still sore from yesterday, Childe certainly wasnt gentle or merciful, and this contact is softly blissful compared to yesterday.

Till he pinches your little nipple in his hand, twisting it slowly and hearing you whine in annoyance.

Instead of moving onto the next breast, his hand moves down, gloves brushing against your stomach and your hips. Until its rested on your inner thighs, and he’s just caressing and stroking the skin of your thigh.

His black gloves are everything.

You unconsciously press your legs together, mewling at the sensation so close to your heat. You try to lean further into his hand so he can rub against your throbbing core, but his hand capturing your wrists keeps you firm, not letting you move an inch.

Childe moves teasingly slow.

His gloved finger rubs against your clit ever so softly, pressing deeper against it and then pulling away completely.

“C-Childe…”

“Hmm? Speak up Y/n.”

He adds a second finger, but continues only to rub your pussy. A torturous sensation that makes you buck your hips in desperation to feel his fingers sliding in.

“Childe… please.”

You speak louder this time, and he rubs harder.

“Please what? You’ve got to be more specific Y/n.”

He loves the way he has complete and utter control over you, your reactions, the noises and expressions you make. That even if you’d had the audacity to expose yourself and strut away, he still had control. That in this battle, he’d won.

“Stick your fingers into me,” you groaned out, louder than the previous sentence. “Please- please…”

His gloved finger poked at the tip of your needy hole, rubbing around the edge just until your eyes watered with frustration, and you tried to grind against the sensation. Again unable to with his hold on your wrists.

“P-please!”

It was only when you were begging that he shoved his finger in ruthlessly, pushing in and out. Your legs rubbed together, thighs pressing tightly around his hand as he added a second finger, and you were left gasping and moaning out his name.

When he added a third finger, your knees were trembling and it was only his grip on your wrists and the hand buried in your pussy that kept you standing. He leaned into your neck, his breath fanning your ear when he asked you who you belonged to.

“Y-you…” you breathlessly answered, coming close to your climax with every thrust of his gloved fingers. Pumping up into that G spot so hard that it left you crying out.

And then he pulled out his fingers, loosening the grip on your wrists.

“Good.”

Trembling and writhing just for him, he’d leave you bare and needy. Not letting you climax with him until he came back home from work.

Punishment for trying to tempt him earlier.

He licked your juices from his gloves, sucking on them and lapping them with his tongue. Just for you of course, laying on the ground whining and wet, so close to your climax yet stopped at the heat of the moment.

With a big wide grin, he waves his hand in a goodbye, grabbing his bag from the corner of the room before heading to the door. Fulfilled, watching you beg for him and shamelessly admit that you were his was the perfect start to his morning, and of course your revenge for teasing him earlier.

“See you after work Y/n~!” And with a wink he’s off.

Zhongli

For some reason, after a steamy night with Zhongli, the morning left you sensitive.

Not only physically, but especially mentally. To a point where getting up with the aching throb of your thighs was just enough to send you over the edge and sobbing.

You head to the kitchen, Zhongli’s shirt draped over your figure. He’s of course sitting in his rocking chair, reading glasses on as he scans something that he’s reading. Probably one of Liyue’s historical books.

You heat up some pancakes, planning on making the two of you a nice breakfast to start the day off. But grabbing the maple syrup, after opening the lid and stepping forward to spread it on the pancakes, your foot slid on something slippery on the floor, and you’re sent tumbling back.

Zhongli is leaning over you in seconds.

But the fall isnt the issue, and with the maple syrup in your hand, the bottle had tipped into the inside of Zhongli’s shirt, the one you were wearing, dripping into his shirt and onto your body. You’d managed to set it straight, but not after maple syrup was sent streaming down your chest and down your stomach.

“Im sorry…”

Tears gather at your eyes, and you try to wipe them away before Zhongli can see. Nothing was going right today, and you just wanted a distraction, something to keep your mind off of your emotional state.

“Itrs alright dear… would you like me to prepare a bath for you?” Zhongli is so soft and kind as he offers his help, thumb stroking your cheek as he stares into your eyes.

You dont want a bath.

Even with maple syrup everywhere on your body, sticky, you don’t want to leave the floor. A sob breaks past your lips, and you shake your head. “No… I just want it to go away…” your hands are shaking, and you slowly remove Zhongli’s shirt from your body, the maple syrup clinging to your form.

His eyes trail over the gooey mess you seem to be in, and he takes his shirt back, unsure of what to do. As the geo archon, theres not much he can do about the maple syrup, and his insides twist when hearing you sob.

He presses a kiss to your forehead and slowly trails it to your lips, satisfied when it seems to calm you down. You push him closer, until his head is on the same level of your chest, and the maple syrup dripping down your breasts.

Without thinking, he goes to lick it, the sweet taste of maple syrup in his mouth.

He backs away instantly, afraid that the action only saddened you further. But it was the opposite, and you stared at him wide eyed, tears threatening to spill. With a sniff, you wiped the tears away again, “That… didnt feel bad.” Was all you said.

Zhongli wasnt sure what to make of it, and leaning closer, he only licked the sticky liquid off your cleavage again, listening to the intake of breathing. When he glanced up, you were staring straight at him.

“It felt… nice.”

You were no longer crying, which meant that to Zhongli, he’d done something right. He didnt stop licking there, and dedicating his tongue to wiping every spot of maple syrup on your body, the two of you stayed draped there for a while.

His mouth completely engulfed your breast, tongue swirling around the lengh of it as he sucked in the sticky liquid. Your breathing grew erratic, but every time he’d look up to ask you if you were alright, you’d simply say that it was fine.

Zhongli began to realize that you were really turned on by the time he reached your core, and the maple syrup wasnt the only liquid drenched there. He didnt waste any time in pressing his head into your thighs, knowing from experience that you liked it. And that instead of pain, his tongue gave you pleasure.

So thats what he did, sucking, nipping, and licking every part of your cunt until you were shaking, and your inner thighs were tight against his head.

He would’ve pulled back, but no matter how much he licked your pussy, the sweet taste still coated his tongue everytime, meaning that there was still some maple syrup. It was until his tongue dug into your needy hole that he realized where the sweet taste was coming from.

It only motivated him to get rid of it.

He’d seen your tears, seen how shamed and embarrassed you were to have the sticky liquid all over you. He knew he couldnt get rid of it with his tongue, but if it made you feel better enough to take a bath after, it was worth it.

His hands grabbed the balls of your ass, slowly massaging them against his fingers before using them to thrust his tongue deeper into your wet cunt. Pushing your ass and hips with his large hands and thrusting them towards his head in rhythm with the lapping of his tongue sent you on overdrive.

Your legs were shaking, and instead of gasps, little mewls of pleasure sputtered out of your mouth. Hands tangled in his hair, you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head.

It felt like orgasm after orgasm, Zhongli still pressing his face against your pussy and licking every sweet spot. But there was always more, and you were going numb by the time he pulled away, your body sore and writhing after the intense feeling of pleasure.

“Theres too much,” Zhongli said softly, wiping the sides of his mouth as he stared at your fatigued face. “I could keep going if you’d like-? “

Your mood instantly boosted up, and with a chuckle at the poor archons innocent stare, you shrugged. “A-alright, a little bit more I guess…” Even as your core felt numb and your thighs still shook at how tightly you’d been clenching them around Zhongli’s head, the sensation was too good.

With a small smirk, Zhongli dug back down, hands groping your ass again as he sunk into the sensation of your pussy.

Kaeya

You woke up horny.

By the time you walked out of the bedroom with Kaeya’s shirt on, your intentions were very clear. Your boyfriend was sitting on the couch, reading over something that looked like a report for work. You didnt give him the time to think as you plopped down on his lap.

Directly facing him, he seemed surprised as you wore his shirt, sliding in closer to him inch by inch until you could feel the firmness of his dick against you. It was then that he chuckled, realizing what you were getting at.

“Oh? My my Y/n, so daring~”

He only leaned back, setting the report down and putting his hands against the couch to sit back and watch you.

“Now now, dont feel deterred, I want to see you take charge for a change.”

And so you tried.

Grinding your core against his throbbing member, he winced, the ever so calm smirk never leaving his face. So he simply watched, watched as you slowly took his shirt off your body, revealing the form he loved so much. It took all his control not to take you by the arm and carry you to the bed, a second round after last night.

But watching you struggle was oh so much better.

You fumbled with his jean buttons, hands trembling as you slowly slid them down his legs to reveal his giant member. You always had trouble fitting him in, but he always took control and made sure you were ready for him before he thrust into you.

Sliding down his boxers, you gulped, thighs trembling as you positioned his dick above your pussy.

Kaeya only chuckled as you slowly sank down into him, only taking in the tip of him before you whimpered. Your hands came to clench around the buttons of his vest, breaths coming ragged as you tried your best to lower deeper into him.

“Having trouble?”

You wanted to wipe that arrogant look off his face, fill him with pleasure and send him into the same ecstasy youd felt last night. So that he couldnt tease you about it, so that he could look at you evenly and admit that you were just as good as it as he was.

But god he was too big…

You could barely lower yourself any deeper, only reaching quarter way before the your legs shook and your inner thighs squeezed with need. But he was too much, and every little movement sent you into a fit of squeaks and whimpers.

Kaeya’s hands groped your ass, and with a sigh he slowly began to tug you further down. Slow, achingly painfully slow. You grabbed at his wrists, begging him to stop.

“Kaeya… it hurts…” you nearly sobbed, tears threatening to spilled onto your cheeks.

“Alright, I’ll leave it up to you then.”

He removed his hands, but you were now halfway through and pulling out would be just as excruciating as fully embracing him. You were stuck, thighs shaking so badly you had no option but to sink lower, legs threatening to give out on you from the sheer effort.

You mewed and whined when you couldnt stop the slow motion of your cunt taking in Kaeya’s dick. And no matter how you tried to resist and keep your thighs from taking any more of him, they always collapsed and you were back to slowly leaning deeper into him.

Finally, when you’d sank to the bottom and had fully engulfed his dick, your face was tear stained, sniffles escaping your lips. But Kaeya didnt move, staying still and refusing to help you. It took everything you had to slide up his length and collapse back on him.

Up and down, up and down, the process was torturous but you could feel the pleasure building up in your chest everytime you took him in. Even Kaeya started to enjoy it as your pace quickened, your breasts bouncing up everytime you fell down back into him.

“Kaeya…” you whimpered through lidded lashes as your hands gripped his chest. “K-Kaeya…”

He came at the same time you did, and you were left sitting on his cock more tired than before. Inner thighs trembling, your walls clenched around him. Holding back a moan, you tried to lift yourself off of him, finding yourself unable to do so.

“K-Kaeya…”

With a chuckle, he finally leaned forward. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips, and rubbing the swollen bruises of your inner thighs, he lifted you up, only to send you back down into him.

“My turn Y/n~”

[cynettic]

Just a Bet (childe x reader)

Summary - You and Childe make a little bet to see who could resist each other the longest.

Pairing - gn!reader x Childe ( was written thinking of a fem reader but no real indications )

Warnings - Mentions of desire / sex, suggestive touching

A/N - I wanna make a pt. 2 with the actual smut lol, should I?

It was just a game.

Satin slid against your bare skin, cold to the goosebumps that prickled along your skin. A lacy material that covered both too much and nothing at all. So thin that it would seem to break at the barest touch, but enough to hide your body. Not its curves.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Childe stood, ginger hair slicked back to expose the jagged edge of his jawline. The curve of his cheekbones that led to his dark eyes, a bright baby blue that was hidden under his lashes. Widening only the slightest when landing on you, trailing up and down your body before his lips tilted up. Similarly to you, Childe was dressed in fancy garments and silk. White gloves in contrast to the black suit and dress pants.

A game.

Thats what you reminded yourself when walking over to him, steps dragging out before you placed your palm on his chest. Fingers resting on the folds of his black jacket before you slowly turned your gaze to meet his. Fluttering your lashes before trailing your hand down lower, until you could grasp his.

“We have to hurry up darling,” you hummed when pulling him closer towards you. “I dont want to stay out too late tonight.”

He brought your hand to his lips, gentle when pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand. A gentleman first, but you could see the mischief in his eyes. “And whats so wrong about staying out late?”

You leaned in closer at this, an opportunity perhaps to win this little game of yours. “It gets harder to resist you,” you shamelessly admitted, lips brushing near his ear. “I don’t lose.”

His grip on your hand tightened before completely slacking. A competition, to see how long you both would be able to resist each other. Love was a battle between you and Childe, adrenaline coursing through your veins at every touch; every kiss. Childe liked to win, to reign superior when knowing his opponent was equally as strong, maybe even stronger.

But you liked winning too.

You didn't mask your desire when tugging at his hand, leading him to the sleek black sports car. Opening the passenger's seat and gesturing him in, flashing him a grin when you walked to the driver's seat.. Childe realized that he was in for a long ride when you stepped on the gas, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on his thigh.

You were three shots in.

The drink burned down your throat, the mindless freedom that it brought threatening to take over you completely. Not enough to do so, you were careful with your consumption, especially when there was so much on the line.

Childe was down on his fifth, looking as casual as ever when tilting his head back to take a sixth. When he set the glass down and turned to face you, “You’re not going to drink that one?” He gestured to the shot perched on the counter. You were about to tell him to go for it before it occurred to you that you could do something else.

“Nope, that one's mine.” You held your hand up to grab it, bringing it up your face before accidentally letting it slip from your fingers. “Oops.”

The ginger flinched at the sudden cold contact, eyes pensive when noting the stains on his dress pants. He only sighed comically, unaffected when reaching for one of the napkins on the side.

But you were faster.

“I’m so sorry,” you genuinely began, hiding your snicker with a cough. “Babe I’ll clean this up for you, don't worry, just stand still.” With napkins bunched up in your hand, you began wiping at the black fabric, straying dangerously to his crotch.

You heard his breath hitch almost instantly, taking that as a sign to continue. You dragged the cloth against the blemished areas, bringing it closer to his inner thighs and rubbing it much more sensually when you could.

He cursed, mumbling something incoherent while tensing up. You felt one of his hands on your shoulder before you were tugged up to face him. “You win,” he whispered, strained when his hand curled around your waist. In only a few seconds, you were hoisted to his shoulder and being carried out the bar.

[cynettic]

A/N - Quick Albedo drabble, I’m swamped in so much homework so I couldnt finish up anything ;-;

Warning - NSFW ( mentions of smut and yandere behavior )

He was gentle.

Gloves hands held you in place, the black sleek fabric rubbing against your hips as he gripped you tight. Possessive, his clutch didn’t hurt, rather it was unrelenting in a way that said he wouldn’t let go.

He would never let go of you.

Not when your breath hitched at his lips against your neck, spine arching as his fingers slid up your back. His face backed away, observing your reaction with those pensive eyes of his before he leaned into you again. Every contact sent a rush of heat through your body, and you unconsciously squeezed your legs shut, face hanging low when he stared at you.

It was unnerving to know his hands roamed wherever they pleased, eyes fixed on you and you only. The way your skin bloomed red where he touched, body reacting for him.

You were his.

A reminder when he kissed you, a reminder when he swung your legs over his shoulders. Until his nose was pressed against your heat, until he could take his time to slowly, slowly worship you.

You were his.

When he marked you, teeth sinking into the plush of your thighs. He hated hearing you cry out in pain, but tracing the scar was worth it, knowing that no one, no one could do the same. And if they thought otherwise he’d teach them, because no one could meddle with what was his. His experiments, his journal, you. Because no one could hear your cries, the way you begged or the way you called his name. 

His name only, because he’d engrave it into you as many times as he needed to make sure no one else's name would utter from your lips.

[cynettic]

Dead Wish, Dead Kiss ( genshin x reader ) #2

Summary - Teyvat, a world where those who were blessed by the archons could obtain an elemental ability to aid them in their goals. But a corrupted disease took route, plaguing all seven nations with monsterous populations that far succeeded the power in which archons bestowed. 

A world in which now, the few visions that remained untainted by vampires were used for survival. 

But survival isn’t what you use your vision for, nor is it what the rest of the Fatui do. Take down each archon, is what is said on the list. Take down the ones who upheld the propaganda and tarnish the world of its evil.

Starting with the Tsaritsa.

Ending with archons from Monstadt and Liyue.

The fate of the world depends on you and your fellow Harbingers, the ones who remain alive and untouched. Very few.

Pairings -  gn!reader x various (may end up straying to a f!reader with intimate scenes)

Warnings -  Swearing, NSFW, suggestive content

A/N - In this chapter I wanted to prioritize showing how they bond- cause afterwards reader is on their own for a bit :’) 

Taglist - @fullconstellation , @melkxsh

Blog Introduction has old/recent chapters

“A coin toss?”

It was a pitiful sight, three harbingers kneeling down on wooden planks of a sailboat. One gold coin of mora grasped tightly in Childe’s hand as he dimly stared at the ground. You nodded at Scaramouche’s question, surprised not to hear a sarcastic retort from him.

“Heads means you go to Monstadt, tails for Liyue.”

The fight to eliminate archons had taken far too long, and with the remnants of the Fatui huddled in the confines of a sailboat, you couldnt waste your time. Nor could you be rash, that had been proved tonight when Signora persisted to accompany you in eliminating the Raiden Shogun. Even if becoming a vampire weakened them, they were not to be overlooked.

However, Scaramouche did laugh. A wry chuckle that sent him leaning against the ship's rails as his chest rose and fell in heaps. Childe didnt react, only sighing and putting a hand over his head, you let the two be.

“A coin toss…” The dark haired boy repeated himself, “We are settling the matter of who’s killing an archon with a coin toss?” The giggles died off, the topic no longer seemed amusing when he put it like that. “Have we truly sunk so low as to determine someone’s death with one mora?”

“Yes,” you responded absentmindedly. “How else would you like to do it?”

No answer from either of them.

To have sunk so low…

His words hit your mental shield like bricks, and it took all your might not to be affected by them when you could clearly remember so much blood on your hands. Archons falling at your feet, sobs wracking their body as they tried to beg. But the tainted could not be pured, vampires were corrupted to their very soul.

After all, once bitten, your morality slowly slipped away from you. It was impossible to know right from wrong, an animal driven by its primal instincts.

Scaramouche adjusted himself back to sit, face growing solom to rival Childes. The ginger had been the least motivated during the trip, the entirety of it. After being the one to end the Tsaritsa and his family, he’d been rendered into a depressive state, moving when necessary, speaking when necessary. 

You remembered his tears vividly, the corpse of a girl cradled in his arms as he sobbed.

An animal driven by its primal instincts. Vampires aren’t humans.

“Childe,” you handed the coin to him. “You go first.”

He reached out without saying a word, gloves pinching the metal before letting it drop aimlessly to the ground. His eyes did not widen at the side in which it had turned to, tails, Liyue.

“How lucky,” the harbinger beside him snarkily mumbled. “Isn't Morax your friend? You can skewer him just like you did with-” Scaramouche stopped mid sentence, eyes glaring down at the waterblade now positioned right at his throat. The tip drawing just the teensiest bit of blood, you knew by Scaramouche’s wide eyes and maniacal smile that he planned to return the gesture. Tenfold.

One of the most tedious things in the trip had been to play babysitter for them both, always being a step in between just in case they decided to go at it. They were more than capable of beating each other to the brink of death, but you had no intention of eliminating the rest of the archons on your own.

Rather, you didnt want to be the last one left.

You had all lost and gained, experienced things being taken away, being the one that robbed others. On this trip Scaramouche had gained a sense of humanity, learned through the death of those he had faith in, that there was more than bloodshed. Perhaps thats why he’d asked you not to partake in the death of the Raiden Shogun. Childe had lost his family, a vivid fear that now plagued his thoughts for those he kept close. But he was a fighter, he would die as one.

And you...

You neither lost nor gained, time simply passed.

“Childe,” you spoke firmly, your deadly tone making him flinch almost immediately. “I dont want to deal with any casualties while we are in the middle of the ocean.” Your gaze drifted to Scaramouche, “And you, stop acting like a brat.” 

The ginger drew back his blade, tossing the mora coin to Scaramouche who caught it in one hand, scowling at you. Yet as always he obeyed, shutting up and tossing the coin to the ground. Tails. Liyue.

“If you end up on Liyue, we all go together right?”

Your ears perked up at the sound of Childes voice, hoarse. “I suppose so…” You responded, “That would be ideal, but unnecessary if we plan to get it over with fast.”

“This whole coin toss was stupid to begin with.”

Ignoring Scaramouches comment, you snatched the mora from the wooden planks of the ship, throwing it up and high. In previous years, such big decisions would’ve had you on your toes, anticipation. Yet now you felt empty, succumbing to Celestia and its fate. Acceptance was something you’d learned after witnessing the death of your family and friends, a trait that numbed out everything and let you slaughter without regret.

You stared at the coin, unmoving at the figure of heads.

Monstadt.

“You’ll be all alone,” Scaramouche mocked tears, one of his feet nudging your knees. “Monstadt has great wine though, I’m sure you’ll be alright.”

“I’m not sure what to be happy about.” But your tone was monotone. “The fact that Monstadt sells good wine, or that you’ve just spoken words of encouragement.”

Childe was staring down at the coin, “He’s trying to jinx it.”

“Figures.”

Still, the tension took hold of the sailboat, all three of you quiet. These were odds that fell in no ones favour, but there would be no changing it. That itself would speak of insecurity and vulnerability to the two harbingers beside you, and as the leader of your huddled group, that was not an option. You had to be a prime example of strength, confident enough to inspire them to keep going.

Yet… you would’ve preferred to have gone to Liyue, the archon there was much stronger than the one in Monstadt. Scaramouche himself wasn’t fond of Childe either, how they would work together was something you would worry about later.

“Despite being weaker,” you found yourself saying to break the silence. “Morax is still incredibly powerful, I don’t want either of you underestimating him as a vampire.”

“When have any of the archons been easy to kill?” Scaramouche scoffed, “Some of them take days to plan, others weeks. Rex Lapis will be easier to lure out with Childe, and I have a knack for having things play out the way I want it to…”

It seems he was proving your point.

You repeated yourself, “Don’t underestimate him. He has completely changed, and despite his calm collected attitude before this… disaster.” You struggled to find words to suit it, “He can be as mindless as he lets himself be. Having Childe will make no difference.”

“Stop talking like I’m not here.”

“Then stop being angsty in a corner and interact like a normal human being.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, the breeze in the distance soft against your skin. You could hear the waves, the gentle thrum that made you tilt to the side ever so slowly. To sleep perhaps, rest and fully recuperate from restless nights with terrors that plagued your sleep.

They had begun after the murder of your family.

Blood stained walls, joyous laughter. All you could remember was an electricity that ran through your body, adrenaline. Flinging yourself at bloodshot red eyes and fangs, thrusting the kitchen knife in the monster again and again. Until it was reduced to nothing but a puddle of mush and blood. The sun peeked through window curtains, a beam of light that stroke right at the scene of the crime.

It was the first time you’d seen a body reduced to ashes.

It now remained as a vivid picture, and those who appeared in your dreams were burned to that same pile of flecked grey. Some nights were alright, you could handle watching those who were closer to you burn, you knew it wasn’t real. But when they screamed, when they begged only then did it make a difference. Hit a chord in your heart that you’d hoped so desperately would disappear.

“Sleep.”

There was a hand on your head that guided you down, gently so that you were now leaning on Childe’s shoulder. His bicep was too hard to provide much of a pillow, but the gesture was sweet. You dimly registered the feel of his fingers against your hair before sinking deeper and deeper, sinking into the noise of the waves crashing against the sailboat.

From across the wooden planks sat Scaramouche, eyes fixated on the way your face fell poised to slack. Chest rising up and down and leaving you angelically flushed to Childe’s side. There was no jealousy that shone on the shorter harbingers face.

“Morax,” he spoke softly. “The old man will know we are coming for him.”

Blue eyes met Scaramouche’s, unwavering. “Of course he will, news of the Raiden Shogun’s death has probably already reached him.”

“And Barbatos?”

Slender fingers halted at a lock of your hair, “A coward.” Was Childe’s response. “Monstadt hasn't seen their god in centuries, there's no guarantee he’s a vampire at all.”

“Y/n will have fun with that,” Scaramouche commented dryly. When there was no response from the other boy, he stood up. The ship tilted from side to side, the dark clouds out in the distance bringing a heavy demeanour to the journey ahead of them. He took one step, plopping down next to you. Just as you had done with Childe, he brought his head to rest against your shoulder. “Its hard to believe we’ve made it down to the last two.”

“We can talk about it after we’ve killed all of them.”

“Hm? Big talk, are you not worried about losing?”

There was a silence before Childe spoke again. “I swore to myself that I’d die fighting either way, whether I lose or win. That has not changed, it will not change. Zhongli… no Morax is just another enemy in my way, he’ll make quite the opponent.”

Scaramouche didn't reply, expression oddly complacent as he stared out into the side of the boat. He could hear the crackling of thunder far out north, waves sloshing and carrying the boat farther and farther along the murky sea. But Childe’s words troubled him, and the shorter harbinger let his fingers stray to the porcelain ornament near his torso. His fingers tingled at the contact of his vision against bare skin.

“You won't die, not with me by your side.”

[cynettic]

Flirty Reader x Genshin Boys

Summary - Flirty S/O whose main love language is physical contact and flustering their partner.

Pairings - Reader x Childe / Zhongli / Kaeya

Warnings - Not quite NSFW, but its bordering there, don't read if you’re a minor pls-

A/N - I make a couple headcanons with the height difference, don't take it too literally though, the situation won't change because of height lol

Childe

Can I start by saying that Childe is extremely competitive, so much to a point where he will think as everything as a competition. Of course, flirting is part of the equation.

Of course, neither of you back down from your shameless flirting, which ends up with the two of you in bed, or in a very heated makeout session.

But often, Childe goes overboard.

Please make sure to slap him, even if all he does is catch your hand and hold your wrist tight just to pull you closer. Even if he leans in close to your ear to whisper, “Wanna try that again sweetheart?”

He’s never mad though, a shameless flirty smile on his lips. Don't let him have it for too long though, someone needs to knock him down a notch, might as well be you.

Flirting won't really affect him, but whispering dirty notions in his ear does the trick. Murmuring what you plan to do tonight will earn you a flustered shocked little Childe, don't go too overboard though, he will keep your word for what you tell him.

If that doesn't work, just shove him around.

If you’re taller than him, pull him against something (wall, chair, bed, anything. You can get creative ;) ) Enjoy your little moment of superiority before Childe decides to get competitive.

If you’re shorter, give him a little kick on the ankles… or knees, don't mind his chuckle though, you can replace that little smirk of amusement with surprise when you press yourself again and give him a kiss worth the while.

Zhongli

As a flirty physical craving s/o… please be gentle with Zhongli.

Even if he can be rough at times, Zhongli will easily be taken by surprise when you pounce on him or whisper sly remarks in his ear. Confused even, he isn't very used to it at all, but he can adjust.

No matter how you approach him, you always end up on his lap. Even if you try to be dominant and attempt to make the geo archon flustered, he always gently sets you on his lap and then properly kisses you.

Zhongli legit doesn't get flustered.

You don't often see a blush on his cheeks at all. Other than those rare moments where he’s staring at you and softly caresses your cheeks. Zhongli likes to appreciate the moment and getting lost in your eyes and just realizing how lucky he is to have you is what gets him flustered, sappy and smiling.

That doesn't stop you from trying to get him hot and bothered by other methods though.

Not that it works anyway.

Zhongli is in complete control of his emotions, and he likes to remind you of it when he completely turns the tables on you and puts you in your place… gently.

If you’re taller than him, he will sit you on his lap facing away from him. From that angle he has the perfect angle to press little kisses against your shoulders and back. He will whisper soft promises and maybe even tell you a story while leaning his head on your shoulder, his warm breath fanning over the nape of your neck.

If you’re shorter, Zhongli might sit you on his lap facing towards him, leaning down to carefully press soft kisses to your lips. He will focus on your face, forehead kisses, little pecks against your red nose, on the sides of your neck just to hear you whine and ask him to kiss your lips, to which he will oblige with a smile.

Kaeya

This man is the master of flirting.

The two of you will go at it, and it can turn so dirty to the point that Diluc will personally kick your asses out of the tavern and threaten to ban you both if you scare off the customers like that.

It's often Kaeya that will have the last line, whispering it in your ear in such a hushed tone that it makes you stare in shock as your cheeks grow red. He’ll tease you about that too, pinch your plump little cheeks between his fingers and tell you how badly he wants to kiss you.

But sometimes you’re the one that leaves him speechless, surprise him with a few kisses. Kaeya is a switch, meaning that as dominant as he can be at times, he will let you take over ( unlike Zhongli and Childe- ). During this time, Kaeya will probably try to slip in a few cocky remarks, please put him in his place and shush him with a few kisses.

If you’re taller than him, when he’s feeling particularly dominant, he will lean you against something so he at the very least has the advantage of height. Since he might not completely reach your height, he will kiss your neck and collarbone, maybe even nibble your chest if he decides to go further down.

If you’re taller and he’s feeling particularly submissive that day, please pick him up. Let him wrap his legs around your waist and sling his arms around your neck to press your lips against his. He loves it when you pinch his sides, and he might let out a little whisper and gasps when you rub your fingers against his ass.

If you’re shorter and he’s feeling particularly dominant, prepare for quite the ride. He will pick you up and sit you on something tall so at the very least you can reach his lips. His hands will crawl up your shirt, so be prepared for him to tease you with his cryo vision or particularly cold hands as he pinches and rubs your back or chest. All the while distracting you with wherever his lips might be.

If you’re shorter and he’s feeling submissive, you’ll probably need to push him somewhere, straddle him, and lower yourself enough to capture his lips. He might make a noise or two if you whisper something ‘real’ dirty in his ear, so make sure to quiet him down if you’re in a public area ;)

[cynettic]

Dead Wish, Dead Kiss ( genshin x reader ) #4

Summary - Teyvat, a world where those who were blessed by the archons could obtain an elemental ability to aid them in their goals. But a corrupted disease took route, plaguing all seven nations with monsterous populations that far succeeded the power in which archons bestowed.

A world in which now, the few visions that remained untainted by vampires were used for survival.

But survival isn’t what you use your vision for, nor is it what the rest of the Fatui do. Take down each archon, is what is said on the list. Take down the ones who upheld the propaganda and tarnish the world of its evil.

Starting with the Tsaritsa.

Ending with archons from Monstadt and Liyue.

The fate of the world depends on you and your fellow Harbingers, the ones who remain alive and untouched. Very few.

Pairings - gn!reader x genshin

Warnings - cussing, violence, blood

A/N - Meet your roommate :3 

Taglist - @fullconstellation @melkxsh @whattaweeb​

Blog Introduction has recent/older chapters

The Favonius Knights of Monstadt were vampires.

The realization struck hard when seated in the headquarters, fingers instinctively seeking the sort of comfort only a weapon could bring. The hilt on your hip that etched for blood, the only ashes to remain of the figures in front of you.

“You’ve come here to simply travel around Monstadt?”

The question held suspicion, maintaining the intensity of their crimson eyes on you. Seated on a fancy gold outlined chair, your fingers absentmindedly tapped at the armrest. “Yes,” you replied, so casually that it put their wariness to shame. “The city of Freedom, I should at least hope to have ventured there once.” Oh if only they could note the sarcasm in your voice.

For what kind of freedom was one encased in vampires?

Jean was the name of the blonde haired vampire, red eyes contrasting her pale complex. She out of all the knights seemed the most responsible, the papers littering her desk falling in heaps. You could imagine dark shades under her eyes, an overworked no doubt, you did not pity her.

“I see,” was all she said before tapping her pen on the paper atop the desk. “I was hoping to make some sort of contract, one that would benefit us both, but…” She eyed you up and down, slowly. “If your only objective is to travel, I don’t think it would work out.”

“Well, I haven’t said no yet, have I?”

There was a snicker on the other side of the room, and leaning on the bookshelf stood the taller male you’d encountered earlier. Kaeya. He gave you the impression that in contrast to Jean, he was on the more irresponsible side. Either way, the vision latched to his hip deemed him dangerous right away, you wouldn't want to face him in a fight, none of them.

It was the first time you’d seen such an oligarchy, a group of individuals so strong that they ruled the entirety of a nation on their own. With enhanced speed, strength, and senses, these visions fell into the wrong hands. The Favonius Knights were not to be messed with, they’d been capable individuals before the plague, now corrupted.

Eliminate Barbatos, that was your sole objective.

“You see,” Jean began, adjusting herself on her seat to sit up straight. “While we have the duty to protect Monstadt, we cannot do so in the daytime, or rather, its more difficult. That was proven today when we arrived late to a battle at the front gates.”

It was still impressive to have arrived at all, you wanted to say. Most vampires wouldnt even bother stepping foot out with the risk of sun, even with the excessive clothing and hats that they had worn.

“So you’d like me to take care of your battles in the daytime?” 

“Yes, to report to the headquarters in the morning and attend to issues in Monstadt.” She was blunt with her words, you could tell she wasnt hiding how tedious any of it would be. “It would include some travelling, but you’d be aiding residents and masses of monsters for the majority of your time.”

“And what would I get out of it?”

“We have apartments, although you’d probably end up with a roommate, that's an adjustment we can make if you feel uncomfortable.” She held up fingers for everything she listed, “Food and water of course, there won't be any medical fees for injuries, and well… You’d be getting paid.”

“You’re trusting me in such short time?” You teased, elbows on your knees as you leaned forward. “We haven't known each other for more than an hour.”

Her face was dead serious, you again heard the taller male on the side mumble something to himself, he seemed to be laughing at you. “I am confident in my judgement,” was her only answer. “You have the option to take this responsibility or reject the offer, I won’t judge you there. But I am also confident in my ability to take you down if you take advantage of us.”

A threat.

You sank further into your seat, a grin on your lips. Ah, there it was, they were acting more like vampires now. 

“I do need a place to sleep,” you mused. “Perhaps I’ll consider your deal, although I find it would be hard to work with…” you let your sentence stretch, peering at both Jean and Kaeya, eyes still locked on yours.

“Scared?” The tall man teased, his fangs appearing sharper when his lips tugged into a smirk.

You held back a sarcastic retort, “I dont want to work with you,” you blatantly replied. “I’ll admit it, you make me uncomfortable, your group of knights,” the world felt bitter on your tongue. “You make me sick.”

Kaeya flinched.

“Understandable,” Jean replied smoothly, not looking fazed in the least. “Then if I could ensure that no members of the Favonius Knights would interrupt you with your work or rather, cross paths with you at all… you’d agree?”

It would make the ordeal of killing the anemo archon much, much easier.

“Yes, on those terms and the benefits you spoke of earlier, I would agree.”

She thought about it for a moment, pensive eyes blank on you. You were winning her over, you could tell. But something about the way she reacted to nearly nothing shook you, her mannerisms controlled to perfection and emotions so scarce that she rang of danger.

“Then its settled, you will become an addition to our knights for a short period of time while on your travels here in Monstadt. However… I must warn you, I don’t plan on taking back mny threat from earlier. I have eyes around Monstadt, past its borders.”

She didnt finish her sentence.

She didn't have to.

The air about her could rival an archon, and you knew the images of your blade on her neck would remain short lived fantasies. After all, she was not your target, and only when you deemed her truly worthwhile to eliminate would you put your lasting strength to kill once again.

An endless slaughter, it was tiring. 

But you killed monsters, and archon knows the souls that would drag as a burden if you ever killed a brethren.

The wood of the door creaked open, unveiling the mess that lay inside. Messy clothes strewn from couch to counter, garbage bags that littered wooden planks. There was a sole painting hung on the blue chipped walls, tipping to the side and on the verge of crashing to the ground in glass shards. Drawings of circles and shapes you’d seen before, names that stood alongside the symbols.

Zodiac… signs?

The knight beside you sighed, wallowing his head down in disappointment at the sight of the house. Jean had been thoughtful enough to send you with a human escort, you weren't sure what you would've done if it was a vampire.

“What's their name?”

Paper shuffled in his hands as the knight scanned through documents, the contract made for your stay here at this house, they'd been insistent on getting a signature.

How incredibly formal for bloodsucking beasts.

“Mona Megistus, a retired astrologist…” his eyes strayed farther down the page. “She hasn't paid rent in… months. No wonder they didn't get her permission beforehand, I’m surprised she hasn't been kicked out.”

As if on cue, footsteps resonated through the withering apartment. A guttural scream ripped out of a young girl's throat before a slim figure crashed against one of the wooden walls of the entrance. “Get out!!” She screamed, eyes wide and furious. “Leave me alone you monsters!” You noticed the glint of the kitchen knife in her hand before she held it up. “I’ve sliced you up before, and I’ll do it again.”

“They can't kick her out like this,” you hummed in reply to the knight's previous question. “She looks insane.”

“Who wouldn't be?” He mumbled back, you weren't sure if he was talking to himself or you. 

Mona, your new roommate, held the knife up higher, attempting to be more intimidating when her threat was ignored. “Dont fucking mess with me.”

Poor girl.

Your steps were slow, and you werent surprised when she struck wildly, the blade coming in close contact with your neck. But you caught it easily enough in your hand, raising an eye at her strength when she leaned forward to push her weight onto the knife. She was screaming when she pulled away, stumbling a few steps back before lunging back at you.

“Look into my eyes,” you stated when catching the knife right at your shoulder blade. 

Breaths coming out in gasps, her clear eyes met yours, widening only a fraction before she again pulled back. But this time without intention to pounce back on you, she instead looked to be in shock, the blade in her hand clambering to the ground.

“Human,” she mumbled, “You’re human.”

Poor girl.

You turned back to the knight who was also frozen in place. “I appreciate you bringing me here,” was your only comment as he stood in the doorway. He reacted immediately, looking around for a place to put the contract papers, and when finding none, settling them down on the ground and murmuring a soft goodbye before firmly shutting the door.

With no lights, the room was now darker with only a window at the doorway to provide vision. Slowly, Mona kneeled down to grasp her knife once again. She seemed composed when standing back up, “Who are you?”

“Your roommate.”

She didn't seem to like that, lip curling up into a snarl as she held the knife up once again. “I don't have a roommate.”

“Now you do.”

You slipped off the black jacket off your shoulders, taking a deep breath in and out when letting it drop to the floor. Mona flinched when you slipped off your shoes and trekked past the mess in the entrance.

“You still haven't answered my question,” her voice was weaker. “Who… who are you? Why are you suddenly moving in?”

“That's two questions,” you replied back when walking past her into the hallway. Again, chipped blue paint to lighten the walls, a mess. “But my name is Y/n, I’m currently aiding the Favonius Knights and was granted a place to sleep.”

Her demeanor changed completely, she was now back to being on full guard. “You work with vampires.”

“I kill vampires,” you corrected her. “But yes, unfortunately I have to work with them for now, I assure you its not something I will enjoy.” Perhaps you said the next line to gain her trust, or sanction her worry, but it still brought a smile to your face. “I’d have killed them now if there weren't so many.”

She went silent, and it was only when you looked back to gauge her reaction that she held out her hand. Small and frail, she looked like she hadn't eaten in days, haven't slept in days. “Mona Megistus.”

Ah finally, a proper introduction. 

You grabbed her hand, “Y/n.”

[cynettic]

Dead Wish, Dead Kiss ( genshin x reader ) #3

Summary - Teyvat, a world where those who were blessed by the archons could obtain an elemental ability to aid them in their goals. But a corrupted disease took route, plaguing all seven nations with monsterous populations that far succeeded the power in which archons bestowed.

A world in which now, the few visions that remained untainted by vampires were used for survival.

But survival isn’t what you use your vision for, nor is it what the rest of the Fatui do. Take down each archon, is what is said on the list. Take down the ones who upheld the propaganda and tarnish the world of its evil.

Starting with the Tsaritsa.

Ending with archons from Monstadt and Liyue.

The fate of the world depends on you and your fellow Harbingers, the ones who remain alive and untouched. Very few.

Pairings - gn!reader x genshin

Warnings - cussing, violence, blood

A/N - Ahhh, finally to dive into the plot, reader has just met the characters that will lead their journey through Monstadt, hehe.

Tag list - @fullconstellation @melkxsh

Blog Introduction has recent/older chapters

“Tell me about your archon.”

The soft pitter patter of the rain outside filled the cathedral with a tension that stiffened the air. Wooden brooms dusting atop spotless floors and marble staircases, only the finest for their god. Yet the dark bags under eyes spoke of overworked, underpaid.

No one answered your question.

The normal routine passed in a flurry in front of your eyes, your words falling in silly heaps as you watched. It was no surprise, you’d seen lives eaten away at those who called themselves powerful, at those who called themselves vampires.

“Our archon?”

Your gaze dimly turned to the blonde beside you, a duster in her right hand as her left rest limply at her side. She was young, hair tousled in one low ponytail with strands falling at the side. Her complexion didn't suit her state, she could very well fit the persona of someone joyous, hair bouncing along with her actions, a smile painting her face.

Instead, she was blank.

“Yes,” you simply spoke in return. “Anything would be helpful.”

You knew better than to expect much from her saturated expression, drained of all its life and colour. She hesitated before speaking, as if considering it in earnest. “Barbatos… he saved this city for freedom.” She bowed her head down, “I wonder why he hasn't acted again, when all of us are chained up to these beasts. There's nothing to say, I am uncertain whether he continues to dwell in Monstadt at all.”

That would be unfortunate.

Your fingers drew up near her hair, instinctive to offer some sort of comfort, rid her of the expression on her face. You sighed before drawing back, nodding at her words. “Thank you.”

The melancholy effect dragged behind you like a pair of shackles, chaining you to the depressive air. It often did, and you recalled feeling the same way when asking around in other nations. The same expressions of desperation, a frustration at its finest. You soon learned that those who still cling onto hope were better off. Faces that were tired of all were beyond any help.

“What's your name?”

Her voice again stopped you at the cathedral doors, hand reaching for the silver knob. It was cool to your fingertips, smooth like the next words that slipped past your lips. You were tempted to speak of your Harbinger name, Nietzsche. “Y/n, and you?”

“Barbara,” she spoke back. When you tugged the doors opened, you could hear her shuffle in the robes she was dressed in. “May Barbatos be with you.”

The doors were firmly shut when you said, “I should hope not, that archon will be rotting in the pits of hell when I’m done with him.”

But your aggressive statement was met with the cold rain that lashed at your cloak, soaking the black in a deeper shade. It once again drove you to that melancholy hole, and your footsteps were hidden in the splatter of droplets on concrete.

“Our knights are nowhere to be found!” Someone yelled from just below the cathedral level, “There's too many monsters at the front gate!”

Finding yourself slowly dragging your feet down stone steps to the lower level where they spoke, your interest piqued just the slightest. The walk felt slow, and it was just until you found yourself in front of the voices that you truly considered the motivation to do anything at all.

“Open your mouth,” you spoke to the knight, an order. The two men who had been speaking turned to you, scowls on their faces. They didnt answer, so you took initiative and with one gloved hand, yanked one of their lips open. Their teeth were pearly white, flecked with food, but relatively smooth.

He reflexively took a step back, swatting your hand back and crying out in pain. The one beside him moved for his sword, but you turned too quickly, dashing down to the front gates of Monstadt.

Humans.

They were humans.

There was a thrill when you drew your sword, hand clenching around the handle as you blew past the rain. Adrenaline coursing through your veins as you sprinted across the outdated fountain in the middle of the town square, blood pumping when you ran down steps, void of people.

There was a flurry of blades at the gate, your eyes narrowing down on two soldiers you’d seen when first entering Monstadt. They knew how to wield their weapon, but their blows were not fatal strikes, feet pushing them back when faced with furry beasts who held shields and swords.

Monsters.

You missed this motivation, the energy that propelled you high in the air with your sword. Drawing blood and executing on your own judgement, clashing with fangs and bloodshot eyes. Until the revenge you seeked was quelled only slightly, a bloodthirsty craving indulging you with every kill.

Until you yourself became a murderous creature.

But only a monster could kill a monster.

Even if the adversaries in front of you werent vampires, hilichurls proved a worthwhile punching bag when it came to your rage. Knocking their shield away in one blow and driving your blood stained sword in the other. A dance of death.

The rain drained away the blood on the stone bridge. Till it was left spotless, no remainder of what had transpired save for the lifeless bodies of the horrors.

But you, cloak pulled back to reveal locks of hair that framed your face and the rain that darkened your roots and dribbled down your cheek. You, who were smiling so wide you might as well have been having the time of your life.

You were the real horror.

“Oh dear, it seems we’re late for the party~”

A voice too bittersweet for your liking did not awaken you from the serotonin rush, hand twitching only slightly at the footsteps that got closer. It wasn't until fingers grasped your shoulder that your breath hitched, a contact that brimmed with cold through the fabric of your cloak and white blouse.

Vampires.

“And who’s fault is that?” A much higher pitched voice asked in return, a child pouting. “Look at the sky! Not even an ounce of sun, I can't see why you wanted us to dress up at all,” a bell jingled, too close for your liking. “Look at this hat! It's horrid, even Eula thinks it's ugly!”

“Rather safe than sorry darling,” the figure beside you spoke. His hand tightened, and you were painfully aware of the way he lowered his head to reach the level of your neck.

Rather than a normal fight or flight reaction, you twisted the sword in your grip to point upwards towards the direction of the vampire just behind you. It would be easy, driving the blade up into its skull and ripping apart each and every monster behind you at that. You could sense several, the adrenaline that had faded off arose, your heartbeat thudding painfully against your chest.

“Kaeya, you know our laws with humans.”

It was a commanding voice that stopped you, the man behind you pausing. There was a dreadful silence before he pressed a soft kiss to the skin of your neck, drawing back just as quickly and unleashing his grip on you before you could consider skewering him once more.

You spun to face them, one hand instinctively rising to wipe off the kiss on your neck. There was no mark, yet it still sent icy goosebumps racing down your spine. Disgusting.

“I’d like to thank you for taking care of these monsters,” a blonde haired woman began. Her high ponytail reminded you of the young girl you’d met at the cathedral, and you narrowed your eyes when she offered her hand. “Personally.”

[cynettic]

Reap what you Sowed

Summary - There’s a reason why Venti drinks alcohol.

Warnings - Alcohol, angst, mentions of death and unstable thoughts, implications of self harm

A/N - Writing Venti angst on Albedo’s birthday. I’ve committed a sin.

“Why do you drink?”

The tavern was a warm orange, chatter a simple lyrical background to the mellow evening dim that peaked just past the windows. Some would find it to be busy, others to be just perfect. Enough to enjoy a drink, leaning into a counter or back into a chair. Until the alcohol spread like a warmth jittering along your veins, till you were shaking, till you were unstoppable.

Venti didn't feel unstoppable.

“Why I drink?” He hummed, voice verberating against his chest. The beauty of being drunk, movements so slow and foreign, it was impossible to tell if it was you acting on them or not. Mind nulled as the body acted on its own accord, the tiniest sliver of sanity clinging onto one detail. A small one that tethered on the path of the lost, blackout to the next morning, no reminisce to the dopamine rushing through your body. “I play a tune with only the bargain of a drink, I don’t need mora you see.”

He paid attention the way his chest buzzed with every breath, heartbeat sending a tremor down his legs and up his shoulders. Until it was impossible to ignore the beating heart that thumped wildly in his chest.

Venti didn't want it.

There were many things he didn't want, many things he would trade for his mind, body, soul. Stripped bare, taking once more the remnants of his pixied form and claiming it as his own. 

To reap what he sowed.

Because nothing could justify the pale skin smeared across him like a wolf in sheep's clothing. It didn't belong, didn't fit quite right. An unjustifiable layer that itched to be released, tugging and pulling. Pleading. 

Venti was no wolf.

Venti was tired.

Exhausted to take on a form that wasn't his, parading the streets of Monstadt with a grand smile. To pretend that it was. Just because he’d been naïve, too small and young to realize what taking up the corpse of his friend entailed. Naïve because there was no going back, the skin had melted into his form, into his being. And he could no longer reject it, scratching the skin along his arm, face, neck. 

It was not his.

Every look in the mirror was a vivid reminder, fingers rubbing the loose ends of blue that tainted black hair. A permanent stain that soiled the body, the very first sign of the filth that quelled within.

“But drinks can also make you feel good,” he continued, swirling the glass in his hands. Merely watching, because no matter how much he consumed, it would never be enough. He would never feel like he belonged, not in this body. “They can make you forget.”

Ironic.

God of freedom, one who encouraged and influenced others to take on a lifestyle of independence and liberty. 

Venti wondered when he’d be released from the captivity of this walking corpse.

He hoped it’d be soon.

Alcohol didn't last forever after all, and even if it subdued the itching for only a moment, it was the only freedom Venti had ever known. Burgundy liquid sloshing around the crystal like cup, prismed jarred edges bouncing off the light of the tavern. Head lolling to the side, Venti could dimly recognize the reflection of a face on the glass.

A Cecilia flower embedded on the side of a head, green hat propped on black ivory hair. It brought out the blue eyes, dim and shadowed by bags under their eyes. Drunk, lips adjusting from their usual smile, lowering to a frown. Until the bottom lip was trembling, tears bubbled up against glassy eyes and cheeks scrunching. Porcelain face, framed by two braids and soiled with their bright hue.

Venti didn't recognize him.

He didn't feel when his head drifted down, forehead digging into the counter edge and pinching against sensitive skin. He was numb to the way tears drifted down his face, numb to the way his nails clawed at his skin, asking for a way out. But the image was fresh in his mind, a slim complexion staring down at glass. Reflecting a sight too vivid, too painful.

Venti didn't want to recognize him.

Taglist - @cursedraiden @ohmykazuha @clouds-rambles ( its a venti one- a tad angsty tho ;-; )

[cynettic]

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[cynettic]

Red String of Fate

A/N - Not really genshin, its more of a quick vent drabble. Angsty and nsfw for triggering topics and gory stuff :’) I felt kinda proud of this one which is why I’m posting it, any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated!!

_-_-_-_-_

I’m a murderer.

Red string idly tied around my pinky, delicately swaying with every whisper from the wind. Caressed and woven into this world by fate. A gentle binding, thread spilling down to my foot and loosely littering the wooden panels of my floor with loops and twirls. Adorning the dust and encasing me whole in its meaning.

Its promise.

I’ve always hated being bound, held and grasped by an irrevocable hold. Ones I’ve put myself in, ones others have clutched me in. 

Pinching the red string that hung around my finger, I tugged at one of the loose ends of the knots. 

Ones that the red string of fate has tied me to. Several, tangling along the jagged ridges of my knuckles and slipping past the gaps between my fingers. A soft velvet against dry skin, the calloused pad of my thumb gentle when nimbly rolling it along the back of my palm. Silken texture brimming in abundance and pulsing in rhythm akin to one of heartbeat. Slow, steady, eternal.

Full of life.

The darkness in the cramped space of the apartment cages me in like an animal, body growing numb and sending a tingling sensation up my spine. Subduing aching muscles into a deep heavy sleep, complexion falling into well needed slumber. Till it was just the consistent thrum of the thread along my hand that held me awake, fate wrapping its hold on me once again.

Snip.

The motion is always slow, prolonged with the weight of the scissors in my hands. A spectator to the red thread as it slowly dissolves into ash, a ticking time bomb to the end of a life. Another. Seeping at their lifeline until the string finally dissolves at their fingertips, draining the last of their existence and sparing mine.

Greedy for comfort, I selfishly choose myself.

I can’t feel my elbows as I lean forward, ice prickling at my toes and cold slivers digging into my fingertips. Hazy, guilt eats me up like the snowstorm that enraptures my body in snow. Freezing me in place and biting at my mind, frosty reach clawing at my sanity.

But its my body thats numb, I wish my head was.

To be pliable with the nothingness that threatens to devour me, stained and greasy hands fervently scratching the fibers of my tunic. Dirty, I was oh so dirty. Contaminated with a bubbling hatred that quelled inside, pounding with deprecating fists that begged to get out. Pleading, because hands and knees dug for an eternity on the ground wouldnt be suffice to the lives I’d taken. But thread against skin arose an anxiety I could not thwart. Until I was no longer sure how long I’d spent sitting on this desk, staring into the pale grey walls of my apartment. Absent. Knives and scissors littering the corners of the wood, small chunks scraped with only the splinters in my nails to blame. Soiled hands incapable of holding life, a desperate cry to the heavens to spare me the responsibility, to let me go.

Because no matter how feather light the thread felt, the weight of a life pulled me under. Down into the depths of anxiety, because no matter how much I choked in the sea, I could not breathe. No matter how much my arms flailed, I could not rise. No matter how much I screamed, I couldn’t be heard. Not by others, not even myself.

String grows laden with water, a weight pulling me down to the bottom where I cannot rise.

I’m sinking.

The strand pulls me into a gentle hold of uncertainty, coaxing me into the decision to choose myself again and again. Until I’m hesitant to determine whether snipping the vibrant red cord is a punishment or a relief. To finally make it to the shore of the beach, form lifeless against grains of sand. Condemned in self pity, looking for the blood on my hands. 

My hands are clean.

I want to cry because they shouldnt be.

An endless cycle when the waves wash over my ragged form, snaking through my legs and under my arms. Sand letting the sea take me. The murky water is salty against my tongue, and I can only feel the dim sensation of something around my finger before I’m once again plummeting down.

But I always come back up.

Unable to rectify my crimes, I keep adding onto the list, nails slowly biting into the wood of my desk as I mark another one. Another death.

Snip.

I’m so cold.

But regret is like a spider, a horrid looking thing that scales up my leg, embedding sharp legs into the icy numbness of my shins. It leaves me petrified, the idea of swatting away leaving me with immense disgust. So does leaving it there. I don’t want to touch it, not when its on my thigh, on my stomach, up my shoulder blades. Not when it slowly makes its way across my arm, flexing its angular legs until it reaches my hand. Spiders terrify, they make people do things they dont mean to do. So does regret, reaching my frostbitten hands and sending a rush of warm blood. It's a spiking pain that hits, biting the soft skin of my palm and leaving ugly red flush in its wake.

Regret was my drive. My push when I decided to sever the digits that let fate take control.

It was easier to grasp the knife on the side when I was running on raw hatred and self loathing. When my hands were throbbing and I could picture the red string that held me captive, feel the thread palpitate against my finger.  Knowing with certainty that someone was on the other end of that string.

Bound to them.

The first few fingers were easy, blade sharp against unnourished and neglected skin. Soft ligaments and weakened bones posed no threat to my determination, body willing to my wishes. One by one, until the hilt was in my mouth and I was shaking my head back and forth with a strength I hadnt had for days. Wooden splinters buried themselves in the cracks of my teeth, gagging when the tail of the handle caught on the inside of my cheek and dug further into my mouth. I didnt stop, not until I was cutting the wood of the desk.

Until all ties to this wretched fate were cleaved.

 Hands all but circular blobs of discolouration, blue and purple tinting the tips of bumpy flesh and splintered bones. Blood coated pads that soaked into the rotten planks of wood, spilling over the desk and onto the floor. 

Finally. Finally my hands were stained in blood.

Not nearly as much as their ought, but it served its reminder perfectly. A pang of relief slipping through my body just like the crimson liquid that oozed down to the floor. Matting the hollow lines between floor panels with trickles of blood and soaking into my socks.

I was free.

Eyes fluttering closed, the sharp icy pain was gone, shock taking over my body and leaving me motionless. Solace was an odd little thing, consolation after actions of regret. But it was warm, and I could dimly register the ease that spread through my body like a drug. Bitter tasting but leaving me weightless, mind overdosing on the dopamine that pumped through my veins. Vasoconstriction quickening my pulse and leaving me breathless in the best way.

I was free.

Delusional satisfaction left my head buzzing and I didnt know if I was smiling or my face seemed to rise. Eyes rolling to the back of my head before returning to my sockets, head tilting forwards and nearly touching the puddle of blood on the desk. But I was happy, I was free.

Until I wasnt.

Till a bright red string settled once again, blurred vision transfixed on the way it slackened right above my collarbone, below my chin. 

Around my neck.

It was soft, warm as I struggled to realize it was someone elses heartbeat pressing against my jugular. Throbbing at an inconsistent pace and sending my thoughts into a whirlwind of activity. Till all I could think about was taking the scissors in my hand, grip firm and unrelenting to the viscous game destiny played.

Snip.

The realization came too late, palm on the base of the tool when it occurred to me I couldnt grab it. Simply watch as blood slipped through the gaps where my fingers shouldve been, pain seizing my wrist and presenting itself to me for the first time. It was electric, jolts of torment taking me by surprise and leaving me stunned. Shocked, but not enough to tip me off my high. Wretched grin widening across my face when I stared down at the red string, parched lips letting out a measly croak as I spoke. “You outplayed me.” Because at that moment it all felt strangely hilarious, pain building up in the nonexistent slim skin of my fingers. It was as if I could still feel them, and a feverish laugh spilled from the bosom of my throat as I sagged, shoulders shaking. 

The realization was bittersweet and brief before I leaned my forehead on the puddle of blood, baring with the pain of my actions. The consequences to my regrets. 

I cannot escape fate.