#sorry no comfort this time

[lycheedr3ams]

angst no comfort drabble that no one asked for

1.2k words

EmotionallyUnavailable!könig x sad!reader

TW: smut, feelings of loneliness, desperation, low self-esteem, fem!reader just wanting to feel loved, some mentions of predator/prey, slight mentions of canon-typical violence

i'm in my feels rn and this idea came to mind actually scratch that, i don't have emotions

part 1 of Relapse

being the new and pretty member of the task force wasn't as easy as everyone thought it was.

your friends would just swoon over the thought of you being surrounded constantly by tall and muscular soldiers whom they were convinced just fell to their knees at your feet.

it couldn't have been farther from the truth.

yes, you were an incredibly skilled member of the team. you were undoubtedly an essential asset, and everyone respected you. but being surrounded by men so often, even though you were definitely a woman with soft curves and plush breasts, you were usually seen as "one of the guys." it didn't matter how pretty you looked when the mission was over, with your perfume on for once, clean hair, and your favorite outfit. yes, you were pretty, but that didn't seem to really get you anywhere.

if anything, you'd been told that you were intimidating. most men had never met such a strong and determined woman such as yourself, a woman who could kill just about anyone she wanted. men wanted someone easy to manipulate, someone soft and pliable who wouldn't question them. you were the opposite of that.

sure, men on base would certainly stare at you when you wore comfy skirts when you weren't on duty, or when you'd put on makeup when you and the task force went to the bar, but that was it: just stares. no secret love letters tucked under your door, no bouquets of flowers mysteriously appearing in your locker, no advances or conversations that made you feel like a woman again. most of the time, you would pretend not to hear as the men around you constantly engaged in locker-room talk about other women on base. it was easier that way, to pretend like you didn't hear it rather than argue with these pigs until you were seeing red.

that was, until könig joined the team. he always looked at you differently than the other men on base would. he would stare at you, but it didn't always feel like that stare that men give when they're undressing you with their eyes. no, his stare was more one of quiet admiration mixed with desire. but like the others, könig never approached you, opting instead to admire you from afar. but you were growing desperate for a man's touch, having had enough of everyone saying "it'll come when you least expect it." so, you decided to try and approach könig every once in a while, trying to strike up an amiable conversation or two. on the surface, it looked like you two were just engaging in social niceties in order to work better on the task force. that was, until one night, that casual conversation led to you lying naked on his bed, with him staring at you like a hungry animal as his breathing grew heavy.

you didn't want to sleep with someone on your team, until könig. you always wanted to keep your relationships with your coworkers professional, but könig was, as cliche as it sounds, irresistible. especially with the way you felt so desired and wanted when his rough hands pawed at your soft breasts, and the way he'd just tremble in excitement when he saw your wet pussy spread and willing for him. it was the way he'd gently touch your waist when he passed you in the hallway, his nonverbal signal saying everything his mouth couldn't. you'd follow him to his room as inconspicuously as possible, your heart pounding with anticipation, knowing that within 5 seconds of stepping into his room, you would feel desired again.

könig would never kiss you though. that accursed sniper hood always stayed on, and he would never budge about that. the only time you felt his lips or his tongue was when he ate out your pussy like a starved man. sometimes, he would lick your neck or your breasts when he was feeling especially needy, but those times were rare. you never pushed him on it, but you knew the desperate look in your eyes betrayed you. but he never budged.

those nights spent under his sweaty, grunting body as he brought you to heaven and back was like a drug that you always needed more of. his hands on your skin made you feel wanted, his hard cock in your warm pussy made you feel desired, and the way he'd gently clean you with a warm, wet towel afterwards made you feel loved. but don't be mistaken: könig did not love you.

there were a fair share of nights when könig would pass you in the hallway without so much as a glance, nights he preferred to spend by himself. you'd watch him walk past you with wide eyes when you didn't feel his touch, and you wondered if maybe he had gotten tired of you. maybe you forgot to shave that day, you wondered, or maybe you didn't put on enough perfume, or maybe your outfit wasn't cute enough or maybe, worst of all, that könig was finding solace in the arms of another woman that night. you never knew what the reason was, but you always knew that on those nights, you would shed a few tears as you lay alone in your bed and just wanted, needed to feel valued.

könig never treated you any differently during work hours, which you supposed you should be grateful for. he didn't give you preferential treatment, and he also was not mean to you. he had a surprising ability to treat you like nothing ever happened between you two on most nights. he knew that he was your drug, but he never took advantage of that. könig was so professional that it made your head spin. how could he look and treat you the same way the next day after being fully sheathed inside you the night before, trembling and praising your pussy in his native tongue? you could've kissed the ground he walked on if he so asked, but he simply acted like you were nothing more than a coworker when you weren't in his bed.

something that always bothered you was that könig always wore a condom. you never got to feel the smooth, warm skin of his hard cock, except for when it was in your mouth. you knew he could see the disappointment in your eyes whenever he wrapped his cock in that accursed plastic, but he pretended not to. despite being inside you in the most intimate way possible, könig always made sure that there was a boundary between you: a boundary of pliable plastic and the fabric of his hood.

you were addicted to the way his hands and cock made you feel desired, wanted, and valued. he took you animalistically most nights and treated you as politely as ever during the day. you finally felt a woman on the nights he took you in his bed. you finally felt like someone saw you as more than a soldier, as just a human woman needing connection. maybe könig did see you like that, or maybe he didn't. you two never talked much in the bedroom. you were too scared to break whatever unspoken agreement there was between you.

despite your unspoken devotion to him, könig never budged with his boundaries or behavior. so you grew accustomed to feeling the drug of his affection only on the nights he decided to graze your waist in the hallway as he passed, and you always pretended like you were truly wanted during those precious moments.

[dirt-mccracken]

As much as I want to be a wholly joyous about the fact that Henry Kissinger is finally fucking dead, as he deserves... There's a lot of me that can't help being upset with. With the fact that he lived to 100 years old. He got better medical care, better housing, and a better, more stable life for those 100 years than billions on this planet ever going to see and he did it specifically through exploitation, state sanctioned murder, and lies. He lived to 100 years comfortably on a legacy of violence that rarely threatened his personal comfort. I want to be joyous that he's finally dead, because the world IS better with him dead, but the reality is he won a long time ago.

[notbrucewayne48]

"aphobia doesn't exist"

bitch literally not that long ago an aroace youtuber animator was insulted by almost half of its community for being it

[pseudophan]

anthony is dead: the funeral roast (paid content)

[shmaroace]

don't get me wrong, i love all the positivity around being aro, like "be proud of being aro!! love who you are!!", but we never talk about how hard it is to reach that spot. so here's to the aros who are still trying to understand themselves, who aren't proud of who they are yet, who are still coming to terms with their new identity.

[intotheelliwoods]

Today I remembered shells exist

[miiukkaa]

i wanna hear him give absolutely horrible speeches (everyone would go apeshit nonetheless)

[starryluminary]

♪ Last Man in the World ♪

The Band CAMINO

╾━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╼

◃◃ II ▹▹

Now we’re really getting into canon divergence. The nitty gritty, if you will. This episodes pretty much the same; Noah calls Alejandro an eel and gets called out for it, Courtney and Gwen find Duncan and he joins Team Chris, you know how it goes. What changes is that Team Chris ends up winning the challenge (like they should of in the first place but I digress) and get Duncan as their prize. I’m gonna say Gwen lets it slip that she has feelings for Duncan and Courtney gets incredibly upset, getting Sierra and Heather to vote for Gwen. Cody’s all out of sorts after Noah was at risk of being kicked off, though he wont say that out loud. He doesn’t have to, anyway. Tyler also gains a massive weight on his shoulders but it’s fine he’ll be fine

[hazelnutnebula]

🌸💾 and she had the bubblegum hair with the angelic flair

[narnour-momo-007]

"Uh oh, you found the toothpaste.."

[fafrogke]

I was trying some pencils and I made these to see if I like them

He's fine don't worry

Ren what are you doing there

skrunkly

[egoarc4de]

homecoming

[akiiame-blog]

Me: *watching something Mario related on YouTube*

Content creator out of the blue: "Haha why is Luigi so much better than Mario?? Mario sucks, who even likes him, his brother is so much better in every single way—"

Me:

[m1d-45]

second chances

summary: baizhu knows he isn’t your favorite, but he still finds himself hoping for the impossible. maybe, with enough prayer, he’ll get it.

word count: ~2k

-> warnings: major spoilers for baizhu story quest + lore + liyue archon quest, based on me and my experience (vaguely disliked baizhu at first due to partial information, immediately changed my mind w his quest and now adores him, doesn’t have kirara)

-> gn reader (you/yours) and unspecified traveller (they/them)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr

< masterlist >

baizhu knows he isn’t the most favored.

from the first moment the traveller set foot in his office, he knew. he wasn’t met with anything special, no big flair from his god when you first saw him. it was to be expected, with how much time he spent praying—could gods have regulars?

it was simple. a quick ‘oh, the snake talks?’ thrown his way, a comment or two about his choice of outfit or the jade pendant hanging off his vision, and that was that. mostly, you seemed preoccupied with qiqi and the funeral parlor’s consultant, something to be expected. he was a quick stop on your journey, a note in the margins about the doctor you met at the pharmacy. it made sense, of course, that you’d be occupied with the death of rex lapis during the failed rite of descension, and the return of osial and beisht surely took priority over him. he offered little, only a dialogue or two actually shared between him and the traveller when you were present. he’d gathered as much of his energy, saved it for your arrival to make a good impression, so… it made sense you’d fret over qiqi, constantly forgetful as she was.

it made sense. he’d… made his peace. he had more to worry about, surely, what with orders to fulfill and his own condition to manage. maybe not more important—never, not maybe, what was he thinking?—but certainly more.

when your attention on qiqi flared, spurred by some unknown whim, he delighted a bit in being close to her, even if your thoughts on him weren’t entirely positive.

it was fair. you liked qiqi, and were concerned. it made sense you didn’t know every detail of teyvat, and since he’s never had the chance to come to you and spell out his story directly, it made sense you’d make some assumptions.

“i guess that makes sense, but still… qiqi deserves better.”

she probably did, in truth, but hearing it from you…

he’s had his vision for years by this point. he’s hd it for as long as he’d had changsheng, to be exact, and she was always able to remind him of exactly how long that had been.

“ssseven yearsss, four monthsss, thirteen daysss, and counting…”

“ah… thank you, changsheng.”

he knew he wasn’t special. out of the thousands of vision wielders across teyvat, only a handful have started having their constellations appear in the sky. just under a hundred, by his approximation, but he tried not to count. if he sought out the proper numbers, tried to pin down a percentage of those with a vision that had a chance to hold their god’s attention, then he’d start trying to find patterns. he was a doctor, patterns and rhythms were his literal job, but he knew that wouldn’t end well.

(a librarian, an alchemist, a lawyer: did you perhaps favor more studious types? a bartender, an exorcist, a detective: or those with a drive in their lives? a nobody, a traveller, a wandering samurai: or those seeking one out for themselves?)

there wasn’t a pattern. it was random. and part of him hated it.

baizhu had had his vision for seven years, eight months, and thirteen (was it fourteen? the sky was growing dark) days, and had never once seen his stars in the sky.

he had one. he had a constellation, something he knew was rare among vision wielders, but it didn’t guarantee him a spot in the sky any time soon. kirara had hers long before she had her chance in the heavens—they’d spoken about that, both hesitant to show the other their divine gift, but willing to speak of its existence.

and now kirara’s turn had passed. though her vision didn’t shine any brighter, he could see the pride in her smile when she dropped off another delivery at the pharmacy. sign here, check these, make sure this is what you ordered, goodbye have a good day, pretend like yours doesn’t weigh more after seeing hers.

it wasn’t as if he was unremarkable. a perfectly healthy man who had thrown himself into illness to find the cure for all of them? surely that was interesting, wasn’t it? but it wasn’t his time, he was being impatient, slipping back to the same mindset he condemned his patients for.

“patience. medicine doesn’t work in an instant, and you’ll need to be taking this for the next week at minimum.”

“but it’s so bitter!”

“then tell me, what tastes worse: bile, or this pill? if you want to stop being sick, you need to take it.”

patience.

qiqi was blessed with a place in the stars near instantly after she’d gotten her vision, but she was not the norm. perhaps his expectations were weighted, then? or maybe you disliked his work entirely? he didn’t like entertaining what ifs, but when various aches kept him up, there was little else he could do while he waited for his medication to take effect. patience, he tried to remind himself, counting his breaths. be patient. wait, be calm, don’t agitate yourself. count in, count out, are your breaths getting shorter? just stay calm, be patient…

the first time he saw you, he knew you were coming. he’d saved as much energy as he could, doing his best to make a good impression. but now, with changsheng nudging him awake urgently, pushing him into his shoes and putting his glasses on for him, the first thing he’d expected was the millelith, maybe, or perhaps the ministry of civil affairs. maybe he was needed urgently, maybe something had happened to qiqi, maybe he was late for his medication and he’d get terrible headaches if he wasn’t quick- oh, but then why would she bother to coil around his shoulders?

and yet, out of all those possibilities, none were correct.

“hey! who’s talking about me behind my back?”

“changsheng, qiqi meant that as a compliment. there’s no need to be upset.”

it had been so long since he’d felt your light, far longer since he’d been properly healthy. he’d forgotten how it felt to walk without the dull ache in his joints, and yet here he was. standing by gui and a familiar looking child, speaking with your traveller. it was easy to say words he didn’t choose, his throat not getting dry despite the lack of his morning tea.

the quest was long, and by the end he should have been exhausted. between taking on jialiang’s sickness to turning him into a zombie, he should have been out of commission for the next few days. as it was he had a nasty cough, his breath coming shorter than typical… but that was it. he took his regular medication at the dinner with your traveller, the linger of your aura on them still seeming to dull his pains. how curious, that you could cure ailments even he couldn’t name anymore…

“baizhu, are you alright?” idly, he wondered if the traveller noticed the change in their voice when they were speaking for you. it always sounded a bit lighter, a bit of your emotions bleeding through… a pity he’d never know why. “today must have been taxing for you…”

all eyes were on him now, even qiqi’s. “i’m doing fine,” he said simply, taking another sip of his tea. “better than normal, if anything, which i have to owe to our guest.”

paimon still seemed nervous. “but what about when we leave? what if everything hits you all at once? normally you stay at the pharmacy, and using your power so much…”

a fair assessment. while he was no stranger to combat, to be thrown in the middle of a pack of such vicious hilichurls was a shock. still, he had made it through—even if, privately, he doubted it would have been so clean without you there. “i will be fine. even if my condition declines, i am well equipped to handle flare ups.”

it seemed the whole group was hesitant to let him go. changsheng insisted he stay up until three hours had past since the traveller left, when his limbs again felt heavy and his head began to hurt. something odd was stirring in his chest, and he was eager to get to bed before it sparked into anything more. it was reasonable, he knew, but there were only so many prescriptions to prepare before he had nothing left to do. gui had long since went to bed, leaving just him in the lobby of the pharmacy, quietly double checking his stock of herbs.

eventually, he stood from his seat, returning the sweet flowers to their proper place. he held up an hand to let changsheng climb up his arm, closing up the pharmacy. she curled around his shoulders twice, a familiar weight. the night was cool, a slight breeze bumping the chain of his glasses against his cheek. it had been a long few days, and he was happy that everything was settled. he’d done all he could for jialiang, and he and his family hopefully wouldn’t be coming back for quite some time. back to routine…

“…baizhu?”

he checked the lock with a quick tug, “yes? what is it?”

“the ssstarsss… they’re due, aren’t they?”

ah. the cycles of constellations, switching through the sky. if he thought about it.. yes, they were, weren’t they?

“by my memory, they are. why?”

her head was turned, looking off to the part of the sky not obscured by the roof of the pharmacy.

“…changsheng-“

“look.”

“it’s late.” his heart began to pick up, false hopes being raised. patience, he chided himself, but what follower did not wish for acknowledgment from their god? “we should go to sleep before we fall too far out of schedule.”

“baizhu! i know you have better sssenses than that.”

perhaps he did. his vision burned where it was clipped to his side, invisible vines creeping up toward his heart. “don’t be too hasty,” he said quietly, the words tasting as bitter as his pills.

don’t be too hasty. you could still be wrong. don’t get your hopes up. be patient.

one hand went to his hip, undoing the clasp of his vision, the other settling on the railing. a few clouds dotted the sky, but he lifted his vision anyway, searching for any stars tinted green.

everything happened at once. the terrace was replaced with an ocean of skies, the slight mumble of “i do have a guaranteed…” getting lost in the whirlwind around him. he was weightless, trapped in by an invisible box, only dimly aware of the fact that his pain had once again disappeared. he was floating, dressed in the attire he normally saved for formal events—dressed in what he’d put on when you’d first arrived—with no sight of the pharmacy below him. it was just him and changsheng, him and changsheng and the bright light that came from everywhere, lifting him from his unseen prison.

a laugh, a smile, a rush of power flooding through him, and when he next set foot in front of the pharmacy, he did so with a new gleam to his vision. he could hear a door open behind him—qiqi, if he had to guess, as why wouldn’t she be drawn to the power the adepti could only hope to imitate?—but couldn’t turn, breathless.

“welcome home, doc.. it’s good to see you.”

it had taken seven years, four months, and 25 days, but he was here. and it was more than he could have ever asked for.

[archrui]

雨下再大又怎样  干脆开心地淋一场

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

I lovea him