sonhosndreams
sonhos's writing (currently on pause for uni đ)
yeehaw, just wanted to throw some of my writing out there / she/her, bi, 19 / sideblog
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please write your reader insert however you want to. unabashedly!! write fat reader. black reader. asexual. masculine. tall. trans. disabled. youâre allowed to see yourself reflected in these spaces!!! sometimes your fic wonât be for everyoneâit will be for all the people who look, think, love and experience life the way you do and thatâs ok! itâs wonderful, actually.
it is not your job to make sure the shoe comfortably fits every single person out there. your only job is to tag it, and if anyone tells you otherwise Iâll personally come out swinging lol
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WHAT THE WATER GAVE ME â MIDORIYA IZUKU
synopsis: when your sailboat is caught in a vicious storm you are saved by a whale sized mer that cannot keep his curiosityânor his affectionsâat bay.
tags: GN reader, suggestive, merfolk au, giant mer deku, storms + boating accidents, language barrier, a little angst, fluff, near drowning + mild injury (no detailed desc), courting behaviours, modern fantasy, macro/micro, manhandling (literally), hopeful ending
wc: 6.4K
âł for the mermay collab hosted by the teahouse server! â°
Thereâs little you remember. A breeze carrying the taste of sea salt grew bitter and cutting. The gentle lull of the waves slowly grew treacherous. Freezing sheets of grey rain blurred visibility, ocean foaming at the mouth. You lurched as the boat tipped, taking a hit to the head on the main mast. Grappling with consciousness, you recall how your body had been flung into the depths, a sharp and endless cradle; cold enough, kind enough, that you quickly lost all sensation.
Then youâre gasping desperately. When your lungs fill with cool night air relief floods your system. An ache wracks your being, muscles seizing and bones rattling, but the only thing you can think is: Iâm alive. Iâm alive. Iâm alive.
Everything comes back in small pieces. You slump back and clutch at your soaked shirt, wincing at the bruising around your lungs with each breath. Above is a wide open sky littered with stars and the moon hangs high. You notice that youâre floating then; not on the surface of the water but in a steep puddle that stops above your waist, clothes entirely soaked. Surrounding you are⌠walls?
Adjusted to the darkness, your eyes drag cautiously across them. They are curved like a bowl, and seem oddly shelved, quite similar to a cupped human hand except much bigger. As that thought crosses your mind the upper shelf moves, and the two walls turn inward, opening a small crevice underneath you to let the water spill back into the sea.
And then a soft lucid croon vibrates through the air. You feel it deep in your chest; the sound is soothing, like a motherâs hum, pressing on an old, innate need for comfort.
Gravity swoops through your belly as the structure moves. Down come the walls. They lay slightly flat, though still keeping you in a shallow divot. Your eyes squeeze shut and sting. The storm must have killed you because what is plain to see could only be conjured in a dream.
The size of a small blue whaleâ neither blue nor whale. A soft jaw and a pale face, cheeked covered in what appeared to be sunspots. Full lips parted to warble in quiet wonder, revealing a set of large sharp teeth. Either side of the creature's neck are diaphanous slits. Gills. Smatterings of luminescent green scales trail beautifully from the throat to the shoulders. You notice a glow on the oceanâs surface, the rest of his form hidden below.
Rocked off balance as their head dips, dark tendrils of hair clinging to skin, you are met with a pair of large pupil-less eyes. Vibrant green speckled with white, full of curiosity. A few clicks and a whistle echoes into the night. Your tongue feels like a slab of lead, cloven to the roof of your mouth, frozen by unadulterated fear.
It's a mer. It must be. Mer sightings are incredibly rare. Youâre in the palm of a legend. A giant one at that.
What you now presume to be the merâs thumb passes over you cautiously. You flinch despite his obvious attempt at telegraphing the movement. To someone your size it still happens a little too fast. The sinew in your neck hurts, wrung with tension as the thumb stops an inch short of your crown. Seconds elapse. Thereâs a light pressure, liquid streaming down your face, a back and forth motion, a low warbling.
The mer is petting you.
âWhaâ?â your voice comes out rasped, painful as it scratches the inside of your throat. Dissolving into a violent coughing fit, you curl forward with arms crossed over your stomach as you vomit, crying out through the sharp stabs in your ribs. Overhead, the mer whines, and youâre prepared this time as his hands move.
âIâm⌠Iâm okay, I think,â you croaked, mostly to yourself, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. The acrid taste of blood and salt lingers in your teeth. Suddenly, a warm gust of air knocks the wind out of youâ the tremors too. The soft hair on your arms prickles at the sudden chill as the warmth retreats, but youâre grateful to be a little dryer.
When you glance up the mer is much closer. His face has gentled into sadness. He'd huffed a breath over you the same way one might do to keep their hands warm. You are struck by the thoughtfulness. Unlike the old stories this mer seemed intent on keeping you alive. So far he has treated you softly, albeit clumsily, and tried to comfort you. Understanding settles over you accompanied by a sense of helplessness. To this mer you are probably nothing more than an injured baby bird.
âDidâŚâ you try to speak louder, the words strained. âDid you save me?â
The moonlight kisses him just right. His expression blooms when you speak, a reflexive trill building in his throat to verbalise happiness. Beneath the mass of curls on his head there are two fin shaped ears fluttering. Giant as he may be, the mer is⌠cute, as well as devastating.
You swallow and wince. It feels like sandpaper. âCan you understand me?â you ask, purposefully slow. Any local information gathered about merfolk was either a lie or rumour. Some say they can understand spoken word and others donât. Perhaps this mer had migrated from far away where the human tongue is different. Or maybe it was his first time meeting a person. That would explain the enthusiasm.
Youâre given a plaintive blink. Membranous lids first, outer lids after. The muted roll of the waves fills the silence as you gaze at one another, nearly forgetting your question all together as youâre pulled inâ wading through sea glass depths. Two pulsing clicks ripple across the open water and you startle out of your reverie.
He tips to meet you halfway. You steel yourself, unsteady as you try to stand, and choke a laugh when the creature nudges his nose into your middle. He rumbles a purr, as though pleased by the proximity. You shudder when it resonates pleasantly through your body.
âOkay thatâsâdangerous,â you strain a laugh, bracing against his nose. Fatigue threads its way into your muscles. The adrenaline is beginning to wear off and giving way to a harsh headache. Your eyes close, the only mercy being that it is dark out. The mer exhales another hot breath against your lap.
âGuess you wonât be talking anytime soon,â you continue aloud. A weak smile curls at your lips as you recline to look at him better, âSorry if I donât make good companyâ.
Seeing him cross eyed makes you laugh, even through the tenderness, and you stroke your hand against his cheek; so contrivedly real looking that it seems like it must be a trick. Licking the salt water from your lips, you drag your palms from freckle to freckle, forming patterns and constellations. His skin is deceptively soft. Smooth and slipperyâ like blubber, you can only assume.
âYouâre so gorgeous,â you lean into the hum he is emitting, low and supple. You reach with fingertips stretched to skim along his lower lashes. Closer now you see the green hues in his hair where the light reflects. Though he might not be able to understand the language you hoped your reverence would carry through in your tone. You think perhaps it does; a faint red glow stains his fin tipped ears and happy whistles quake through your bones.
The saccharine moment is cut short by something splashing nearby. It sounds big. You startle with a yelp, cowering back into the safety of the merâs hand. Glancing back over his shoulder, face crinkled and lips thin, you thought he looked almost petulant. How unsettlingly human it is.
Collapsing into a puddle of vertigo, you clutch your head as he suddenly turns. A sad trill reverberates in your skull and youâre sliding, the too-corporeal ground rising to meet you. You land with a thump on damp wood where he puts you down, forcing a pained wheeze from your throat.
Another splash. This time it is followed by a stern wailing call that forces a frantic urgency into the merâs movements. From above he looks between you and the black horizon, eyes wide and beseeching, as though he wanted to impress his intentions with his gaze. You think you get it.
Iâll be back soon, heâs saying. âGo,â you try to smile and gesture to your surroundings. âItâs not like I can go anywhere anytime soonâ.
Relief colours his features. Then heâs gone. Sinking into the ocean like a stone, frighteningly silent. The boat rolls over a passing wave and nausea churns in your stomach. You squint through the moonlight, dizzy, and make out the limp flapping material of the sail, now torn and strewn across the deck. Good enough.
You gather strength and stretch to pull it over your form. If drowning didnât take you then hypothermia would. Dark spots gather in your vision, closing in as you curl into yourself. The ocean rocks you gently in her arms. You can only lie backâon what you now know to be remains of the boatâlisten to the rasp in your breathing, watch the flickering stars blur together, and think of how small you really are.
When you wake the sky is bleeding into dawn with the quieting rays of light. Soft enough that you can look directly at the sun and see the blushing canvas it paints. Sitting up with a wounded groan, you stare at the far off horizon. You cannot discern where reality began and your dreams ended, only that at some point you walked between them.
Tugging the tarp close to your chest you survey the surroundings. Pinpricks of seawater spray up the hull. The mast has been snapped in half and the main sails are gone along with the helm. Below the cabin is flooded. Most of the resources you brought, along with the VHF radio, have seemingly gone overboard.
Your lips are unbearably dry. Skin splits, iron mixing with salt. You inhale deeply, lungs bloating with crisp air, and exhale raggedly through the soreness. First priority is water. Like a newborn calf you amble over to the hatch. There are coolers fixed to the floors under the cockpit that you hope survivedâ
One broken and empty. One mostly undamaged.
âCâmon⌠PleaseâŚâ opening the lock is more strenuous than it should be. Your fingers tremble and slip, still numb. A sob wracks your body. Relief buckles you at the knees and you brace against the counter. Inside is an emergency flare gun and an assortment of non perishables, including biscuits and bottled water.
You fumble with the bottle cap, shaking as you bring it to your mouth. It immediately soothes your throat and you begin to gulp mouthfuls, pulling off only for breath. Tearing the biscuit packet open with your teeth you settle back in the spot you slept on. It crumbles, dry enough to stick to the roof of your mouth, but food is food.
Two things are certain. Youâre stuck here, and you have no idea how far off course the storm threw you. You shoot the first flare, a bright red vein soaring into the sky, leaving you with nothing to do but wait. The gun had at least three more rounds. Would anybody see it out here?
Another streak of light flares as the sun rises and casts an orange shimmer across the ocean surface. The giant mer crosses your thoughts as your eyes drag over the large indent pressed into the side of the boat. Though unsure if he existed at all you miss the security of his hands.
You lose focus listening to the sea exhale. Barely cognisant of the formless blur spreading like ink in the distance, growing in size the closer it gets. It slows a few feet away and the momentum has waves jolting through the water. Scrambling to grab the side of the boat as it jerks, ice grips at your heart when you notice the huge shadow lingering nearby.
When it rises the blur sharpens and takes shape. Features distort, rippling under the tide, and you darenât blink. Eyes of sea glass stare back with equal hesitance. Cool morning light reflects off dark green curls, strands laid to a pale forehead, flat and reminiscent of wet seaweed. The surface breaks dramatically, water rushing down his head and fizzling into foam.
You release a staggered breath, realising youâd been holding it. A mer really had saved you. In daylight you can appreciate the sheer size of him. Shoulders near the width of your boat, covered in opalescent scales and dark scars.
Emboldened by your silence a careful hum vibrates in his throat. His gills pulse and flutter as he comes in closer. The sun is eclipsed by his hand, shadows looming across the deck where his fingers come to rest. Careful, retreating quickly when the structure groans, and then returning again, gentler.
âYou⌠came back,â you whisper. Disbelief bleeds into your voice. A needling sensation flows to your legs as you stand. You grasp his fingertip and the mer smilesâ a trill behind his lips, stretched warmly across his face, enough to lift the swell of his freckled cheeks. Light undulates brightly in his eyes, swaying like patterns you see on the seafloor.
âItâs good to know I didnât lose my mind,â a wave of uncertainty washes over you as the mer watches you expectantly. Thereâs a clear intelligence in his gaze, rapt inquisitiveness, but you canât yet be sure he really understands. Equally, you know precisely nothing about mer social etiquette. âDoes this make us friends? Youâre friendly, right? I hope so. I probably taste like shit, you knowâ.
Ignoring his curious hum you brace against his hand and lean toward the edge of the deck. Illuminated by the sunlit hues, more of his upper body is visible to you. Waves lap placidly up a strong chest, smooth muscled pecs glistening. The scales spanning his flanks are notably larger and thicker.
You wonder the science behind his existence, if it was simply work of the Gods, or there was some reason for him to be so egregiously large. Merfolk have always been depicted as human sized or close enough to it. â...Guess I should give you a name. Youâre pretty green. Midori? Too simple. How about Midoriya?â
His finger wiggles slightly with a playful whistle, happy about the name. It bends to curl around you. Even a slight shift causes the boat to dip. What must be an imperceptible movement for him nearly knocks you on your feet. âAhâSteady!â your yelp scratches at the inside of your throat and nausea pulses hot in your stomach. âOh, fuck. That suckedâ.
Midoriyaâs head tilts and he croons. It sounds apologetic. âJust go easy with me, alright? You could probably squash me like a bug,â you squint at the folds in his finger, and further at the gossamer webbing in the spaces between each knuckle as your stomach twists uncomfortably in hunger. Asking him to bring you fish would probably be futile.
Patting the firm heel you move away from his hand and dismiss his solemn whine. For a creature his size he sure was a bundle of nerves. âDonât panic. I just need to eat something,â you pick the bottled water up once more and sip, keeping it held in your mouth for a few precious seconds. The sun flares as the giant creature moves silently, leaning in closer. He huffs through his nose at the food packets.
âNu-uh, you canât have these. Theyâre mine,â the biscuit falls apart, sodden between your damp fingers. Tasteless and yet not so insipid now that youâre with company. Swallowing thickly, you watch the large body bob and dither beside the boat, scrutinising your every move.
Hell, youâre not even doing anything particularly interesting. This must be how animals feel in zoos.
Dragging your gaze to the skies your thoughts turn toward getting home. There is nothing for miles. Laid out before you is a near seamless horizon, planes blurring together the longer you look. âHey, Midoriya. Are you the only one out here, or are there more?â Whales were your first thought. They traveled in pods, to your knowledge. âIs that who called out to you last night?â
Midoriyaâs answer comes in wide eyed blinks. A self deprecating smile thins across your lips. The lack of response is expected, though you are struck by the quick flash of emotion crossing his expression as you say, âNevermind. As long as nothing comes around to eat me before I die on this stupid boatâ.
Midoriya pouts. Shakes his head and makes it rain. He clicks firmly before descending into the depths again. You panic and scramble closer to the edge, wondering if youâd upset him, but find that he is lazily circling the area back and forth. His hair moves in soft tendrils around his face, dancing along the current. Your eyes widen, mouth open in awe as he dives lower and suddenlyâ
Opalescent hues of green and red. Breaching the surface Midoriya arcs his body into the air and twists his torso in your direction, arms splayed out in joy. There isnât enough time to appreciate him all. His lower half is longer than his upper body, thicker at his waist bordered by wispy iridescent pelvic fins that flare in the breeze, another running the length of his spine. The tail tapers, narrowing toward a large fork ending with two broad fins.
He lands with a great splash. Exhilarated laughter shakes your shoulders as you cling to the nearest fixture, swaying clumsily over the oncoming waves. You squint through the thin spray. White sea foam ripples out in wide rings, sparkling softly under the sun and dissolving in the calm.
âHoly shit,â adrenaline numbs the tenderness throbbing in your gullet. Midoriya jumps again as he draws closer to you, this time with less height, and you cup your hands around your mouth to cheer for him. His beaming grin is all sharp teeth when he resurfaces, finned ears vibrating. He looks happy that youâre happy.
Part of you remains one foot in disbelief. You expect that anytime now you will wake up washed up on an old forgotten beach. Another cannot discount how real the mer feels under your palms as you reach for him, the vibration of his pleased hum shaking your bones and warming your belly. Midoriya rises up into the insignificant touch like a pampered feline and forces your arms wider to accept more of him.
A strong briney smell fills your senses. âThat was incredible. Were you trying to cheer me up?â plastered to his cheek in some poor imitation of a hug, you press an exaggerated kiss to his cheek. A glow spreads across his skin like circuitry, crossing over his nose bridge, flushed red. It makes the air taste metallic. You feel another warm exhale billowing where his own mouth pouts, pushing against your lap. Tears prickle behind your eyes and you blink them away as the anxiety in your chest recedes, âThanks, big guyâ.
Midoriya keeps you company well into the day, never straying too far. You acclimate to his presence and feel at ease with him by your side. Hair half dry in the softening light of the afternoon sun he lets you coil his waves around your arm with eyes crinkled at the corners. He doesnât appear to be bored in the slightest.
Youâre kept under his watchful eyes as you amble around what remains of the boat for something, anything, that might help you get home. At one point you wade into the flooded cabin and search for the HF radio again only to be bombarded by a cornucopia of concerned wailing. Lesson learned: Midoriya does not like when youâre out of sight. You come up empty handed, vexed and dizzy.
There are a few instances youâre almost tipped over despite Midoriyaâs determination to be careful. One by one, you are gifted with more current-smoothed stones and rusted trinkets than you know how to carry. His curious hand pokes at the broken equipment strewn around. You end up rambling for hours, explaining each gifted object to him to keep yourself conscious. Itâs not as if the mer is an unwilling participant. You might be unable to understand him but the stuttered clicking and whistles he responds with are as close to conversation as you're going to get. Plusâ itâs cute.
Noon elapses and no vessels in sight. Now laid beside the indent left in the hull, your vision rises and falls as the ocean shifts. Midoriya lies parallel to you, on his back, buoyed on the surface and sunning himself. He looks a lot more vibrant than before, as though he had really soaked up the daylight. A true picture of serenity. His eyes are closed for the first time; an opportunity to observe him candidly.
There are deep scars on his arms, and elsewhere too. Healed pink on skin and pallid white where his scales would be. Your gaze drags lower, over his bare front, appreciating the defined peaks of his abdomen. Down to a toned navel where scales climb over his hip bones, pale skin gradually blending into rich green. Further, to the powerful muscled tail elevated in the water. You absentmindedly lick your lips and wonder where his diâ
You halt. Heat flashes through his body in a strange mix of shame and arousal and you violently shake your head as if to throw away the thought.
Midoriya hums. Snapping back you meet that drowsy half lidded stare, caught red handed. You gulp and offer a sheepish grin, âSorry. I just wanted a closer lookâ.
At that the mer turns noiselessly and broad ripples fan out into the distance. Cautious, you push up onto your forearms as Midoriya proffered his hand, indicating that you jump onto his palm. Your spine straightens with a frisson of excitement.
âYouâll let me see?â you gestures to yourself and then to the others' languid repose. Midoriyaâs eyelids blink. He tilts expectantly. âFuck. Okay. Promise to catch me?â
Click, click, whistle. Itâs as good a âyesâ as any.
Weak in the knees, you feel your thighs ache as you move. A rush of wind blows over, sharp and chilly. Your pulse throbs and knocks around your skull. Itâs more strenuous than it should be to climb down, a deep instinct unwilling to part with the railings, fighting fear as you hang your lower body over the depths.
Midoriya scoops you up delicately. Your stomach rolls at the sudden change in direction, gravity bearing down on you. You land in the shallow of his palm on hands and knees. Head lifted, you lock eyes, and a sonorous trill thrums through your veins.
âWhat did I say about being carefâHey!â
He brings you to his chest. Legs unfurl from under your hips as you slide down onto his collar and land feet first in the ankle deep water covering his body, soaking your pants through. Midoriya is safe, solid ground beneath you, buoyed on the ocean surface, yet still uniquely soft in the way relaxed muscle often is.
You keep tension in your abdomen for balance and give a cursory glance, first seeking permission before wading toward the cluster of green curling around his shoulders. A webwork glow blooms quietly across his skin and hems the edge of his scales red.
Midoriyaâs pleased face takes up most of your peripheral vision. A plump mouth filled with pointed teeth that could swallow you whole juxtaposed by the wobbly smile playing on his lips. You crouch, knees wet, and brush your fingers against the hard plates decorating his skin. Theyâre slightly slimy and the smallest ones are the size of your hand.
âTheyâre beautiful, Midoriya,â you tell him earnestly, grinning. The kaleidoscopic patterns in his irises appear as though theyâre dancing. Flecks of white and gold gleam amidst the green. Humming in dulcet tones, heavy streams of seawater rain down on you as his thumb comes to rest atop your head once again. Thereâs barely any pressureâ seems you no longer need to worry that he might accidentally break your neck.
You squeezed your eyes shut, exhaling harshly as the thick rivulets trickled over your face and glaring the second you looked back at him. âYouâre lucky youâre so cute,â your nose wrinkles, brine lingering unpleasantly in his nostrils. You think you can taste it in the back of your throat. Deku is busy preening, turned into the crook of his arm and creating waves, flustered by such a simple compliment.
A cherry blush follows the path of your thumb as it returns to smoothing over the tiny ridges impressed into each individual scale; retaining your heat for a few seconds before fading into green. They flash luridly at your wordsâspecifically your praise. Knowing you had such an effect on a mer of his magnitude stokes something in you, possessive and fond, a feeling youâre not sure youâll ever be able to replicate. But it also confirmed what you had been suspecting for most of the day.
âI knew it. You can understand me,â you accuse breathlessly. It isnât a question. âYouâve been pretending this entire timeâ.
Midoriyaâs expression wanes. His brows pinch into a doleful frown, eyes crossing to tentatively watch you stand and trudge toward his tucked chin, almost losing balance where his collarbones dip and the water suddenly deepens.
Fingers nudged under your thighs to act as a seat. You startle at the sudden elevation; itâs still surreal to feel the ground collapse beneath your feet, your knees collapsing against the pressure. Midoriya brings you up to his face, letting his tail sink into an upright position. Gasp caught in your throat you frantically hang onto the end of his nose. The large mer whistles quietly. Low and forlorn like an apology.
From up here youâre all too aware of up and downâ endless in every direction, surrounded by a flat canvas of blue. Heâs the only thing you can see for miles. Bottom low caught between your teeth you turn inward, squashing your cheek against him.
âYou know I canât stay here, right?â you tell him. Midoriya listens attentively. Youâre close enough to hear the soft slide of lids drawing across his eyes, stained gills venting as he breathes, the waves crashing against his back. You point to the far horizon, âI need to go home, or close to it. Think you can help me one more time, hero?â
You arenât prepared for the mer to sulk. The lower half of his face slips beneath the water and youâre face to face with a freckled forehead. Looking up at you now, eyes big and round like a puppy, he blows air out from his mouth to create a sad burst of bubbles. You had vastly underestimated his attachment to you; and your own fast-grown affection for him.
But he nods anyway, setting you back on the worn deck and righting his posture. Unfounded guilt squirms in your chest, tightening as you relays the plan in simple terms, knowing that these would probably be your final moments with him.
Get nearer to the shore and fire a flare. That was the plan. He pointed in a specific direction when you asked if he knew where the land was. Unable to understand his complex vocalisations you simply needed to trust he could do it. Easyâ the day will darken so the flare will be more visible against the gloaming. You could play the fool and claim the tide brought you in. Most importantly there was no risk of Midoriya being seen and put in danger.
As the sky dims the sun begins to sheath itself below the horizon. The numbness spreading through your limbs at least meant you couldnât feel the cold.
âWe donât need to get too close,â you kneel over the edge of the bow to speak to him. Hands that held you delicately are now wrapped around the hull, ready to push. âYour kind stays hidden for a reason, right? I donât want people trying to come after youâ.
You consider the gleam in his gaze. Appreciative and amused, as though he found it endearing that you would be worried about him. âThat confident, huh?â
Receiving a toothy grinâeyes closing and smiling with himâ you find youâre no longer nervous.
Consistently gentle, Midoriya guides the boat. The ocean parts around the oncoming obstruction and leaves behind a long trail of foam. That red network of veins returns, glowing across his upper body as the velocity increases, his powerfully muscled tail working to propel you forward and glinting in the warm evening light.
You call for him to stop when the distant skyline becomes uneven, the familiar bumps and divots of mountains near your port town and the islands surrounding it. The mer brakes abruptly, tall waves crashing up over the deck as your body is thrown backward, narrowly missing the broken mast. You can hear the various gifts he gave you rolling into one another over his frantic stuttered clicks as Midoriya tries to get a look in.
âIâm okay! Iâm alive,â barely, you think. Thereâs a worrisome pain in your rib you canât let yourself think about. The ground beneath you tips as his fingers come to rest on the boat's edge. You begin to slide on your ass, unceremoniously careening toward him, vertigo flooding your senses.
Midoriya catches you, murmuring at your spluttered curses. Abruptly, you cover his mouth and swallow the acrid bile crawling up your throat, mustering up a tired glare. Heart palpitating, it echoes harshly through your body. The muscles in your legs are heavy like wet sand and your vision doubles, overlaps, and then rights itself.
âStarting to think you like manhandling me,â you croaked teasingly. Itâs a testament to Midoriyaâs attentiveness that he hasnât accidentally killed you yet. Though you wouldnât be surprised if most of your organs had completely rearranged themselves given how youâve been thrown around in the past few hours.
The playful air dwindles when reality rears it's head. ââŚI guess this is it, heroâ.
Thereâs that sad sorry sound again. Melancholy bleeds into the atmosphere as silence befalls the two of you. Staring intently at one another, committing faces to memory; kiss curls tucked behind ears, faint sunspots, scales of green and honeydew, the luminescence that belies his true emotions. You wondered what Midoriya saw as he looked back at you. Just a silly lost human.
âThank you, Midoriya,â your palm cups his cheek, thumb stroking beneath his eye, a touch that probably feels like an itch. He leans into it anyway. âYou saved me twice now. Iâll never forget thisâ.
A mellifluous song thrummed in his throat. You feel the vibrations under your hand and it seeps honeyed and sweet into your bones. Outlined in soft evening light against a dusky sky, Midoriya nuzzles you one last time.
Youâre anchored by unexpected grief when he sets you down. The hull rocks as the tide rolls. Water cascades down his scarred forearm as he lifts it up, fist unfurling to reveal a single scale. His scale.
You gape. âYouâre giving me thisâŚ?â
He suddenly looks painfully bashful you scrambled to take it; a scale still wrought with luminescent colour, alive, still connected to him in ways he may never understand. Having it, holding him. Even after you were home Midoriya would be with you.
Emotion swells within you, struck by the trust youâve been given. Merfolk remain a mystery for a reason. Human greed knows no bounds and money would be no object if you decided to sell him out.
âThank you, IâI promise Iâll keep it safe. And you, Midoriya. I won't tell anyone,â you vowed, cradling the scale close.
Shadows widen across the bow as he then rises up ever so slightly. Midoriya dipped his chin. Your eyes reflexively clenched shut at the wet pillowy press of his lips taking up the entire left side of your face. A kiss. Seawater rivulets drop down to your collar, soaking into the fabric. Before you can speak he does it again, lower this time. Mouth pressed to your front, beginning at your chest and ending at your navel. A purr rumbles in his throat. You shudder, thighs clenching as the titillating vibrations reverberate between them.
When Midoriya pulls back his finned ears are vibrating earnestly and his scales flush red. The surface of the water is suddenly displaced and the waves are forced in every direction as he darts away from the boat with a trill, resurfacing a few feet away. âI see how it is. The type to hit and quit, eh?â your voice grows louder, lips twitching into a besotted smile. Egregiously lightheaded and giddy, you yell out, âIâll miss you, Midoriya! Donât forget about me!â
Midoriya responds in kind. He waves coylyâunderstanding more than he lets onâyet remains at a distance until the flare is lit. It arced far into the darkened sky with a quiet hiss, casting a spotlight over your stranded vessel, and only when lights blink in the distance does he disappear from view.
You tuck the scale into your waistband, concealed beneath your shirt. The rescue boat approaches at high speeds. Garish red with a v-shaped hull, cutting through the sea to reach you. Thereâs a five person squad sidling up at your side, immediately tending to any major injuries and tightly strapping a thick orange life jacket around your upper half.
âWhat happened?â
âGot caught in the storm last night. Was stranded until the tide brought me inâ.
âDo you know your name?â You give it in full along with your birthday. âAre you dizzy? Nauseous?â More than they can imagine.
Concussion, they tell you. Fractures, probably.
âWhatâs all this?â
âOh, thatâŚâ you turned to gaze at the collection of things Midoriya brought to you throughout the afternoon. âThat was there when I woke up hereâ.
âStrange. Maybe a mer took a liking to ya,â the man, Oda, grins. His mouth is crooked, speaking in a tone meant to be playful.
âWhat makes you say that?â
He blinks, expression dimming. âNever heard the stories?â You shake your head. âSailors used to say finding gifts anâ sea stones on board was an omen. Especially the shiny ones. Meant a mer wanted to seduce youâ.
Another voice, their name escapes you, interrupts. âEh? I thought they did that whole singing thing?â
Oda yanks a blanket around your shoulders with more force than necessary as he shoots his crew mate an exasperated glare. âThatâs sirens, idiotâ.
âWhatâs the difference?â
You tune out their bickering, acutely aware of all the polished stones in the pile. Of the scale hidden flat to your back. You look to the calm dark surface, throat swelling at the implication. Hand held to your left cheek you feel the plush impression of Midoriyaâs lips like a phantom. Accepting his offeringsâ what had that meant? To him, to you?
The muffled voices come back into focus as Oda rounds on you once more, encouraging you onto the rescue vessel. âCâmon, letâs getâcha home. And donât stress the big stuff, weâll tow your boat inâ.
You canât take your eyes off the ocean, aching. The distinct feeling that you have misplaced something incredibly important sits poignantly in the recesses of your mind. It sees you to the dock, strong-armed into an ambulance because your legs have forgotten what solid earth is, and when the doors slam shut to obstruct the view your chest hollows out.
The hour is past midnight and the streets are empty. Miraculously you're mostly unharmed. You make it home with bruising, hairline fractures and a bad concussion. Your body looked a bit like a pollock painting if you squinted, blue and black converging on one another around your skin, vascular threads of purple hemming your ribcage. Painkillers dulled the pain enough that movement was tolerable.
Oda kept his word, decent enough to salvage your things. They are lumped together in a crate hidden in the doorway, an ever present reminder that what happened was real, not a figment of your concussed imagination. The scale remained awkwardly concealed under your shirt. You peel off your clothes, taking it between your hands. Vision adjusted to the darkness, you see a fleeting shimmer passing through the ridges, reflecting on your bedroom walls before dimming.
You climb into bed, plagued by thoughts of Midoriya. His plaintive farewell song, the reverent stars in his eyes whenever you spoke, the affectionate lean into your every touch. You should leave it alone. Let it be. A sane person would allow the memory age naturally and change into a story to recite over sake for years to come. After all, sometimes things just happened to you, like gravity or griefâ or being the object of affection for a mer about the size of two school buses.
Scale cuddled to your front, the memory of his mouth laid itself against your sternum. It pins you to the mattress and begin to hum. The notes are almost tangible, echoing through skin, close-lipped and soothing. A final thought bleeds into your consciousness as it slips:
You hope you can find him again.
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THREEâS A CROWD â TODOROKI SHOUTO
tags: GN reader, coworkers/friends to lovers, mutual pining, pro hero shouto, fluff + silliness, a very jealous shouto, PR agent reader, social media, workplace romance, first kisses, getting together
wc: 3k
As he grows older Shouto sometimes regrets picking his given name for heroics.
Call it adolescent laziness, but when he was a teenager it felt like rebellion; carelessly giving away that part of himself just to hear how different it sounded in other people's mouths. If repeated enough he thought the tragic lacquer might chip away piece by piece until his name was anew and no longer an echo of his fathers voice.
But now his bones ache and his work follows him absolutely everywhere. The hours he spends at the agency and at home bleed together, diluted into a single muddied memory. Officially adopting the moniker âIcyhotâ has never been so tempting. It would be nice to actually have skin to shed.
These instances of regret are infrequent, though. It may be jarring to have strangers call out to him so casually but he counts it as adequate payoff for his name making a home in your mouth. Who knew a sound could feel like an embrace?
âShouto!â
When itâs you, hearing his name can only be a good thing. Usually.
Heâs helpless to the small smile pulling at his lips as your contagious enthusiasm filters into the otherwise dim room like sunlight. You appear in the doorway to his office, remaining half hidden behind the frame, arms held behind your back and wearing an excited grin of your own.
Having you on the PR team has done wonders for his image, apparently. Employees loved throwing around puns about his cold demeanor being âthawedâ. Shouto was never intentionally aloof, but he was perceived that way all the same.
When you donât immediately flounce into his office to bother him he grows suspicious. âWhat is it?â
Shifting your weight between each foot restlessly, his eyes fall to the soft bottom lip caught between your teeth. You inhale deeply as if bracing for impact before stepping forward, bringing your arms out from behind your back.
And now cradled against your front is⌠him?
The plushie is atrocious. Two large desolate eyes stare back at him from beneath a bi-coloured felt fringe. Not only is it wearing a tiny version of the UA uniform, there is a pair of pointed cat ears on top of its head â one white and one red. Atleast the scar is on the correct side.
Amidst his judgment you have closed the distance, standing in front of his desk, squeezing the thing tight to your stomach. Shouto swallows down his immediate displeasure and feels ridiculous for it.
Voice tempered, he prompts, âA plush toy?â
Your shoulders relax, thumb rubbing back and forth over the soft fabric in slow, idle motions, âYesâ well, heâs actually a knock off. Technically I shouldnât have bought it, but I couldnât resist!â
âItâs uglyâ.
âDonât say that! Just look at him,â brought to your face, squashed cutely against your cheek, the toy seems to mock him. You laugh warmly, âIsnât he cute? His head is so bigâ.
Shouto quickly delegates his attention to the report on his computer screen and begins to highlight random words to distract from the urge to pout. Thereâs a twisted petulance bubbling in his chest, at odds with the pitter patter of his heart. Ugly as it was, the plush still had his likeness, and youâd called it cute.
âWhat exactly did you buy it for?â
You shy away from the question slightly with a sudden air of embarrassment, gaze flickering toward his tall office windows to avoid his eyes.
âWell IâŚâ thereâs the quiet clearing of your throat, and then stronger, âI thought he would be a fun mascot for the agency. Your supporters would love seeing him in the background of your posts. It might be fun!â
Shouto was no stranger to social media. While he preferred to leave it up to your team and his manager it was a good occasional cure for boredom. Though the concept of having fans is still somewhat foreign to him, his supporters are amusing and vocal in their support; your suggestion is innocent compared to some of the things theyâve sent him. But he canât disagree â they would have a field day.
There is a pregnant pause before he speaks and it sets you on edge. A pout to your lips, fingers guided to the small UA tie around his counterpart's neck, fiddling with the knot. Youâre still avoiding his gaze, giving ample opportunity for him to glare at the toy, who only stares back with empty eyes.
âIf Abe-san gives it the okay then I donât see any harm in it,â he says. Your disposition sparks back to life, hiding your pleased smile behind the oversized head. Football shaped, he thinks blithely. He wants to kick it across Tokyo. And then he wants you to cradle his face instead.
âThank you Shouto,â you murmur. Unable to see your mouth, the smile is still bright in your eyes. Steeped in honey-thick affection, Shouto resigns himself to fate. Saying no to you was never his strong suit.
He can only hope itâll be a passing fad.
Those hopes are immediately quashed the following morning. His personal phone pings with a group chat notification on his way to work. Kaminari has sent a link to a twitter poll, along with a series of laughing emojis. Listed are various cat related versions of his name, each battling for the most votes.
Todoneko. Todopurrki. Shoucat? He huffs a quiet laugh. Nekoroki and Catoroki seemed neck and neck, barely a few percentages apart.
Notifications continue to flood in at the top of his screen. He ignores them in favour of clicking onto the profile. Sitting smug in the accountâs picture is the plush of him. The image is a close up, taken from below, a purposefully unflattering angle to show the feline ears on itâs head.
Itâs clear the page is new. Created today, if he had to guess. The bio reads: âemployee of the month at Frostfire Agencyâ and not much else. There is only one postâ a picture taken today in a very familiar place.
??? VOTE â @PawAndOrder : 33 minutes ago
[IMAGE ID: Pro Hero Dynamight angrily baring his teeth at the camera, skin flushed pink and hair pressed damp to his forehead. The Todoroki plush stands precariously on one of many benches in the agency gym behind him, a trademarked red and blue Shouto sweatband stretched over itâs head, school blazer discarded by the weights].
1K replies â 12K likes
Shouto snorts and presses the like button. A cute burst of confetti flits around the heart symbol as he imagines you surreptitiously trying to set up the thing behind a volatile pre-workout Bakugo without being chased out of the gym.
He decides against replying. Abe-san has yet to tell him about it and heâd rather not incur his mangers wrath so early in the day.
The agency is abuzz upon his arrival. Not outwardly, though. A hushed cacophony of tittering and whispers. The sidekicks greet him as usual as he walks through the main control room towards his office, poorly feigning normalcy. Itâs as though the entire agency has gathered; an acting audience to whatever stunt awaits him.
Shouto refuses the urge to bristle. Memories of not quite grasping the interactions around him in those earlier years can sometimes unearth feelings of defensiveness. They mean well. Most people do.
Finding the source of their collective amusement comes sooner rather than later. You havenât noticed him yet, the roles now reversed. Shouto stands in the doorway, having stepped back to silently watch you work while your guard is down. Youâre crouched by his office chair, tongue tucked into the corner of your mouth in concentration, adjusting something currently obstructed from view by his desk.
Shouto never truly learned his own personal touch â he always fell back on tradition. Those habits are reflected around you. The space hadnât changed much since his predecessor retired; not until you came along. You have the uncanny ability to imbue life wherever you go. Now there were fresh flowers to be replaced every other week. What was once a display case for awards to collect dust in now held digital picture frames. Things nobody would think twice about. Thereâs even a napkin folded into the shape of a swan that he stole from a gala the night he won the Hero Trailblazer award.
âThis is supposed to be your home away from home,â you told him. âYou work hard, Shouto! Harder than anyone I know. Allow yourself a little comfort. This place is tooâŚ?â
And then you had made a broad, vague gesture with your hands, struggling to find the words, hoping he would fill in the blanks. That was the first time you made Shouto laugh, and the initial push that tipped his heart over the crest, starting an inexorable roll into the unknown. He has yet to find out if youâd be waiting at the bottom.
Your satisfied hum breaks the delicate quiet. The sound makes him smile. Trinkets aside, a room was brighter with you in it.
Lifting his hand, his knuckles rap gently against his open door. You startle, reflexively ducking forward to hide, then peering over the top of his desk. Your eyes meet and he lifts a brow.
âWhat are you doing?â
Four strides, maybe three. That is all the distance between you and him. Shouto wants to reach down and kiss away that false wide eyed innocence. Part of him wondered if you were aware of it â the profound cord you struck within him. Your fingers always seemed to find it.
âNothing,â you rise to your feet with phone in hand, you brush off the non existent dirt from your knees and straighten the creases in your shirt. Noticing his deadpan stare, you breathlessly insist, âI wasnât doing anything weirdâ this is for work!â
Shouto ducks his chin as he snorts, outgrown bangs slipping forward from behind his ears over his eyes; at an awkward length that never seems to do as he tells it to. âIâm not sure thatâs entirelyâŚâ he moves to the centre of the room, voice losing strength when he sees his chair. ââŚTrueâ
Todoroki Shouto doesnât pout.
âSee?â you cross your arms over your chest, looking gratified with his hesitance. âCatoroki is work related. I took a photo for his next postâ.
The ugly plush toy is sitting in his seat. Gone is the sweatband and the UA uniform. In the short time between last night and now, youâve managed to find a doll sized version of his hero costume. Youâve sat it upright on a small cushion facing his computer and placed a pen and an empty pad of paper in itâs lap to make it look as though it is working.
Upon closer inspection, he realises that youâve even thought to include tiny versions of the first aid equipment hung on his belt.
âCatoroki?â he repeats.
Nodding, you bend to pat it between the ears. âThat or âNekorokiâ. We arenât sure which name will win yet. Did you see the poll?â
âMy phone hasnât stopped vibrating since I got here,â Shouto answers amusedly, stuck on the gentle stroke of your hand to Catorokiâs grotesque head.
âOh shit, sorry. Shouldâve called before I posted it. I forgot you donât read your emails in the morning,â you puff up your cheeks apologetically. Itâs sweet when youâre sheepish. The pull is a little too strong and he finds himself on the other side of his desk, close enough to poke the swell. Air pushes through puckered lips as it deflates.
âDoesnât matter,â unable to resist, he subtly activates his ice, breathing a chill into the air, coaxing you into his warm touch for a minute longer than is appropriate. âYou were right though. People seemed to like itâ.
âDo you?â
âHm?â
Shouto frowns when you turn away to pick the plush up from his chair. The beady eyes laugh at him from the comfortable spot on your chest. You hold it to him as if it were a baby, asking with playful cadence, âDo you like him?â
Like him?
His nose wrinkles. You donât seem to appreciate that Shouto is a restrained person. If he werenât, that plush would have been acquainted with the Earthâs atmosphere the very first time you kissed its ugly velveteen hair.
What is he supposed to say hereâ âI donât like him. Apparently Iâm jealous of a stuffed toyâ?
He drags his discontentment from Catoroki back to your face and feels his heart seize. The corners of your mouth are slightly downturned, plush bottom lip held between teeth, laughter gleaming in your eyes. Your expression is indelibly fond.
Your finger pokes at his chest, firm and accusing. It restarts his heart, which only seems to quicken. âI knew itâ.
Playing dumb is a skill Shouto has refined since early adolescenceâ
He blinks and intones monotonously, âKnew what?â
âBut this is you; who sees through every facade and hears every note. You know him better than most, more than you realise. With you he feels gossamer thin, light like a hollow marrowed bird. Itâs equal parts frightening and comforting.
So when you grin at him and say, âYouâre jealous of Catoroki, arenât you?â the panic dwindles into gentle sea foam hemming his ribs.
Heat crawls up his neck and into his cheeks, the innate prickling of his quirk rising to the surface as his emotions swell. âNo,â he lies, unconvincingly. Itâs about the principle of it.
âAh,â you walk your fingers up his sternum with a disappointed hum. âThatâs too bad thenâ.
You have never touched him this casually before, with such intent. The air around you distorts. Shouto exhales a breath of steam and spine tingling laughter spills from your lips. Drawn to the sound, his movement pushes you back against his desk, and you lean on the edge with your legs parted to allow him closer.
âShouto,â you murmur, and it feels incipient. It feels like youâre at the bottom of a steep drop waiting to catch him. His hands settle on your hips. Your nose bumps his cheek, nuzzling at the scar tissue below his eye, breathing in each other in a moment of eager suspension.
When he kisses you he can taste your toothpaste, and it reminds him that the day has barely started. He smoothes over your waist as your fingers thread into the hair at his nape, enamoured by how soft you feel. Shouto shivers, dissolves like spun sugar, parting the seam of his lips to gently lick into your mouth, kept tethered by the top-corporeal cotton lump lodged between your bodies.
âI lied,â he rasps desperately as you pull away all too soon, like he hoped admitting it would bring you back. You meet his eyes, pupils dilating in the yawning sunlight as it stretches across his office. âI was jealousâ.
âYeah, I know,â you kiss his lips again, once, with some finality; itâs all teeth, both of you unable to keep from smiling.
âYou were obviousâ.
Catoroki <;ÎŚĎÎŚ>! â @PawAndOrder : 1 minute ago
[IMAGE ID: Pro Hero Deku holding the Todoroki plush, staring at it tearfully with a beaming grin. Beside him is Pro Hero Ingenium, who is squinting thoughtfully at the plush toy with his helmet held under his arm. Sitting petulantly in the back is Pro Hero Shouto, hunched over a bowl of cold soba and pouting].
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tags/warnings: dabi x reader, runaway prince touya au, ambiguously established relationship, some violence, slightly yandere at the end
length: 1k
"You're him," you breathe, a strange kind of terror zinging through your veins. "You're the missing crown prince."
DabiâTouya, that is nowâjust arches a brow at you in that dismissive way he has.
"Thought you said you didn't care about my past, sweetheart. Walking that back now?" he drawls.
His voice is the same smoky rasp as always, tinged with an undercurrent of boredom, as though there is nothing about this revelation that has discomfited him.
"Why join a league of antimonarchists if you're quite literally a future monarch?" you ask, drawing back. Unconsciously, your hand goes to the knife pouch at your waist.
Touya's eyes follow the motion, and a smirk cuts across his mouth. "Why might a wolf creep into a sheep's pen, you mean?" he asks.
Your hands ball into fists at your side. You can feel your muscles shivering with the barely-restrained need to do something. You're certain what you want most is to punch himâa bold move on a good day, considering he's one of the League's most dangerous assetsâbut now the idea carries new weight.
He might be here, in antimonarchist headquarters. But if you punched him, you'd be punching the future sovereign of your countryâan offense that carries a death sentence.
"Have you been spying on us?" you demand.
Touya laughs, leaning in like he's delighted with the question. "Oh noâI've been using you. There's a difference."
With his face this close to yours, you can pick out the changes this new information has wrought on his features. He's always been an arresting sightâhis face full of stitches and metal, the skin under his eyes and mouth the purple bruise of old burns. But he's also always been darkly handsomeâthe damage to his face not enough to disguise the careful, sensuous lines of his features.
You see now that he looks so much like Prince Shoutoâwhich makes sense. They're brothers.
"I'm going to have to take you in," you tell him. "Whatever your reasons, you're a liability now. Leadership will figure out what to do with you."
Touya's laugh is dry and crackling. "You? You're going to take me in, sweetheart?"
You scowl. You know you're not nearly equipped to fight himâyou're more of a logician, and he's a brawler. He's got years of swordsmanship under his belt, and molten hot stores of fire magic at his disposal. He's also undoubtedly taller, broader, and stronger than you.
The odds don't look good, but you know he can't walk free after this.
You don't have a choice.
"You could come quietly," you tell him.
Touya snorts. "Doesn't sound much like me."
Your hand is back at your knife pouch, and you watch Touya closely for any sign of his magicâyou've seen it before, an instantaneous inferno of blue flame impossible to escape at close range. Your best chance is to back away to safer distance and try to pin him with your daggers.
You will have to be fast.
But Touya is faster.
Quick as a viper, he strikes first. Blue flames rage into existence just past your shoulder blade, a line of fire shooting along the side of the room. It's so hot it feels you can feel the burn of it through your shirt, though it hasn't touched you yet.
You yank your dagger from your belt, lunging for Touya's ribs. Fire blazes to life in his fingers, roaring out in a hungry wave, and you're forced to stumble back to dodge it.
Blindly, you fling your dagger towards his shoulder, but Touya lunges through the flames feet away, and you hear the metallic clatter of your knife on the ground.
More fire pours from Touya's hands, lashing around the room in a sapphire wave. It feels like all the oxygen has been sucked from the room, the air thick and burning in your throat. The air shimmers with the heat, and your eyes water.
Too late, you realize Touya's burned a circle around you, cutting off any route of escape. You grasp your remaining dagger, warily eyeing the growing blaze.
Touya steps through his own flames just in front of you, grinning. He's always liked a fight, has always come out of them invigoratedâand even this measly matchup has clearly pleased him.
"Touya, please, I'll ask you again to come quietly," you say, though you know very well your odds of besting him have just plunged to zero. You can't get a safe distance away, nowâhe could light you up in an instant.
But he doesn't make a move to. Instead, he looks thoughtful, those burning blue eyes flickering over you. "It sounds even better in your mouth," he says.
For a wild moment, you wonder what he's on about. But then you realize you've said it out loudâhis birth name, where before he was only ever Dabi to you. The tips of your ears burn, independent of the fire blazing around you.
"But I won't be coming with you, sweetheart," Touya continues, stepping even closer. "No, even better. You'll be coming with me."
You swipe out at him as he comes within range, but his hand snaps out to catch your wrist, twisting expertly until you've dropped your knife. You grunt in pain.
"Let go," you gasp, kicking out at him. He easily wrangles you closer, until you're pressed against his with your arms twisted behind your back.
He's inhumanly warm, and this close he smells like ashes and smoke, with that rich, dark undercurrent like cinnamon you've always associated with him. You tell yourself you don't like it as much as you thought.
But Touya just grins, pressing his mouth to your ear, much closer than he needs to to deliver his pronouncement.
"Not ever," he says, low and raspy, before huffing a laugh. He bites the shell of your ear, a sudden flash of sharp teeth. Despite yourself, a shiver wracks your body. Touya shifts you, angling you closer against him.
"Now hold still, sweetheart," he says.
Before you can beg him not to do it, in a sudden flare of pain at the base of your skull, the world goes dim.
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HOW TO GET A S/O â A GUIDE BY YOURS TRULY.
âi hereby declare that i am opening s/o applications! i can offer a poem, a brownie and my unconditional love. if youâre interested, please fill out this form!â
(platonic/romantic) ayato, albedo, childe, kazuha, an anonymous sender x gn!reader, chiscara cameo lmao
comedy, fluff, modern!au, high school!au (?)
for valentineâs dayâŚ. i love valentineâs day i LOVE PEOPLE IN LOVE!!!!!
âthis is so dumb,â your best friend xiao mutters under his nose. âiâm not even talking about the fact that you came up with the whole significant other form thing or the fact that it actually worked,â he looks with an indescribable look in his eyes at your phone, âi canât believe you used google forms to make it. really? google forms?â
âwhat else was i supposed to use, genius,â you retort while opening the submitted applications. âiâm more impressed that i actually got so many answers. i think my brownie has bewitched them, their body and soul,â you say jokingly while stretching.
xiao looks at you with a blank face and you only shrug. he looks like heâs mere seconds from a breakdown. you wonder why.
âwell, iâve gotta say this is perfect! valentineâs day just around the corner, yâknow? would be nice to have a partner even if they would break up with me like two days later. i canât keep pestering you to be my valentine every single year.â he simply sighs and rubs his eyes. he seems annoyed. youâre not sure why though but you know heâs not annoyed at you. he never is.
âalright, enough talking, letâs get to it! time to see whose application was the best!â you declare enthusiastically and start scrolling.
APPLICATION NR. 1
NAME: KAMISATO AYATO
TELL ME SOMETHING ABOUT YOURSELF: iâm not particularly sure what contents should be placed here.
TELL ME ABOUT YOUR PERFECT DATE: a meeting in the park sounds quite nice. obviously, it would depend on the weather. however, if it would be nice, strolling and talking while walking between trees and flower seems quite lovely. iâve always wanted to try it.
TELL ME THE REASON FOR YOUR APPLICATION: you seem like a very nice and competent person. weâve worked on a couple projects before and even if we wouldnât end up dating, i would still appreciate becoming friends.
TELL ME A FUN FACT: oh my, iâm really bad this. iâm sorry. could i perhaps ask you a question though? do you know if i perhaps did anything to offend your friend? heâs been glaring at me since the time we first teamed up for a project.
â
â˘â
â°âââ˝ŕźâžâââąâ
â˘â
[âŚdo you think thoma and ayaka put him up to it?]
[that is quite possible.]
[aish, thatâs too bad. do you think heâd still like to meet up though? iâd like to get closer to him.]
[what? why on earth would you like to do that?]
[why not? it could be fun. also, addressing his concern, do you have anything against him?]
[âŚno, not in particular.]
[alright, if you say soâŚ]
APPLICATION NR. 2
NAME: ALBEDO
TELL ME SOMETHING ABOUT YOURSELF: oh come on, weâve known each other for so long. iâm sure you already know it but but when i was a child i accidentally dyed my hair black â my mother was terrified. on the other hand, i was quite thrilled. maybe i should do it again.
TELL ME ABOUT YOUR PERFECT DATE: a study date? perhaps. iâm sorry, this probably sounds quite boring. in my defense, i am quite a boring person. iâm open to anything though.
TELL ME THE REASON FOR YOUR APPLICATION: weâve been lab partners since the beginning of high school, havenât we? iâd like to think we get along quite well PLUS i donât have a valentine this year either and if iâll have to listen to my motherâs nagging again i will lose it. if you want to, i can give you extra chemistry lessons â an agreement with mutual benefit, if i can put it that way.
TELL ME A FUN FACT: did you know ajax screamed when he saw that you put out the forms? iâm not particularly sure why but i felt as if my eardrums were about to explode. even my noise canceling headphones didnât work.
â
â˘â
â°âââ˝ŕźâžâââąâ
â˘â
[canât believe heâd try to use me again to get rid of his motherâs talking his ear off.]
[if it annoys you, i can take care of it.]
[your definition of taking care of something is quite doubtful, if iâm being honest. and no, you donât have to. i love helping him anyways. heâs a good friend and he explains chemistry perfectly.]
[i could also give you some extra lessons from it.]
[xiao, you are literally failing the subject.]
[and?]
APPLICATION NR. 3
NAME: AJAX AKA CHILDE
TELL ME SOMETHING ABOUT YOURSELF: iâm good at sports, obviously. iâm also fantastic at learning. iâm also handsome. generally speaking, iâm perfect (and taken).
TELL ME ABOUT YOUR PERFECT DATE: simply spending time with my lovely boyfriend (if heâd hear me call him that heâd slap me in the face).
TELL ME AND THE REASON FOR YOUR APPLICATION: iâm trying to help my friend but iâm not sure if he wonât murder me in exchange if he does please put forget-me-nots at my grave i beg!!
TELL ME A FUN FACT: i once put a lightbulb in my mouth because i didn't believe it when they said you wonât be able to get it out. had to go to the hospital and shit â oh and by the way did you know there is someone close to you that HAS A CRUSH ON YOU PLEASE OPEN YOUR EYES I CANâT KEEP ON ENDURING IT ANYMORE
â
â˘â
â°âââ˝ŕźâžâââąâ
â˘â
[a crush? on me, out of all people?]
[why are you so surprised?]
[why would i be not? itâs not like iâm popular or anything. considering you, who has been my friend for the longest time never developed one, how could a completely random person do it?]
[âŚwho knows.]
APPLICATION NR. 4
NAME: KAEDEHARA KAZUHA
TELL ME SOMETHING ABOUT YOURSELF: i think you know everything you should already, considering youâve seen most of my poetry.
TELL ME ABOUT YOUR PERFECT DATE: finding a place the both of us have never been to before and exploring it together. making memories with a person you like is always pleasant.
TELL ME THE REASON FOR YOUR APPLICATION: i just want to get closer to you. and who knows where it will lead us.
TELL ME A FUN FACT: did you know they opened a new cafĂŠ just around the corner? perhaps that could be our destination.
â
â˘â
â°âââ˝ŕźâžâââąâ
â˘â
[kazuha is as sweet as ever. straight to the point too.]
[âŚtoo straight to the point.]
[did you say something?]
[no?]
[oh.]
[well, you do remember youâre supposed to visit the cafĂŠ with me though, right? weâre supposed to do it tomorrow.]
[of course i do.]
APPLICATION NR. 5
NAME: ANONYMOUS
TELL ME SOMETHING ABOUT YOURSELF: what would be the point of me submitting myself as anonymous if iâd describe myself in great detail here
TELL ME ABOUT YOUR PERFECT DATE: same one as yours
TELL ME REASON FOR YOUR APPLICATION: iâve liked you since that one time where you reached out my hand to me in kindergarten and asked if we could become friends. iâve kept on liking you when you went through your first breakup. iâve kept on liking you when we were spending valentineâs day together every single year. iâve always liked you. i still do. and i donât think iâll stop
TELL ME A FUN FACT: would you believe me if i told you that out of all the possible people ajax was the one that made me do this. iâve threatened him that if this fails iâll tell scara that heâs had a crush on him since sixth grade
â
â˘â
â°âââ˝ŕźâžâââąâ
â˘â
[xiao?]
[âŚyes?]
[is this you?]
[âŚ]
[silent as ever, huh.]
[what if it is me?]
[because if it is, i like you too. iâve liked you for a very long time now.]
[âŚyes, it is me.]
[oh, thank the stars. i canât believe i had to do this whole thing to see if my feelings were one-sided.]
[huh? what did you say?]
[âŚnothing! so, how would you like to spend our first valentineâs day together as an official couple?]
[official?]
[what, you donât want it?]
[âŚ]
[wait, xiao, did you just blush?]
[âŚwe can visit that cafĂŠ.]
[whatever you want, my dear boyfriend.]
[âŚstop talking.]
[you blushed again!]
[whatever you want, my dear boyfriend.]
[âŚstop talking.]
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have been wanting to write, help
#sonho's tag#idk im working on a zhongli fic but idk where im going with it and kinda want it to be long#also i feel like i describe things too much ough#but i will write and then edit and then post and eventually ill get better
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â itâs the small things with you that matter most
just some day-to-day snippets depicting how itâs like to be in a relationship with alhaitham.
CONTAINS : gn!reader, 4.4k wc, fluff, (attempts at) humour, slight crack, established relationship, idiots in love
A/N : HAPPY BDAY BELOVED HAITHAM !! smitten clingy sappy menace haitham is my lifeline huhu ăâ˝ă (this is also just me once again advocating cute/energetic readers with haitham TăT)
(can be read as a standalone or viewed as the post-happenings of [how to woo the acting grand sage 101] ^^)
Navigating through a relationship with Alhaitham isnât as hard as one might think.
The transition from friends-who-pined-for-years to lovers was a lot easier than youâd like to admit. While there were some significant changes to adjust to (read: Alhaithamâs sudden surge in displays of affection), your dynamic pretty much remained the same.
And while youâve had your fair share of ups and downs, most of your more serious fights happened before you got together. Considering how long you both have known one another, it wouldnât be an understatement to say you know the other like the back of your hand â understanding minuscule hints and mannerisms anyone else wouldnât notice â and so, most disputes are settled before they can even surface.
Most of your fights wouldnât drag on for long as youâre both pretty open to discussing the root cause and where you both were in the wrong. That and the fact itâs hard to be apart from each other under bad terms, as youâve come to realise after the particularly bad argument you had two months ago (Kaveh demanded you both stay at your house so that he didnât have to witness your intensified displays of affection after reconciling).
More often than not, your subject of disagreements are petty, typically resulting in revoked privileges of affection from the victim. That usually results in both sides being depraved and cranky (well, more so than usual in Alhaithamâs case) until the revoked privilege is, uh, unrevoked,
Well, itâs a good thing you both rarely argue!
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@bnhapolls
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video version made courtesy of @moodorbs
#YAHRGWJHSUEHRGBAURNWHDBDUWHRHKDHBDMWHRUWHDUWHDUWHD#god sometimes i forget how good kokichi is . i love him
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â
liyue boysâ voicelines about you!
feat.childe, zhongli, xiao
tags. headcanons, fluff, gender neutral reader, established relationships (for childe and zhongli)
word count. 1.9k
tw. mentions of fights on childeâs part and light injuries on xiaoâs part.
synopsis. genshin impact boys and their in-game voicelines about you!
childe/tartaglia
About You (Friendship Lv. 4)
(Y/N)? You mean my assistant? Are they finishing up the paperwork I assigned them? Tell me comrade, what might they be doing on this fine day? Itâs been such a long time since Iâve last seen them! What do you mean you saw us together by the harbor just last night? Well, arenât you quite keen⌠To tell you the truth, theyâre one of my most formidable opponents. Theyâre quite adept at the bow- not as adept as me of course. As for why we spend so much time together⌠heh, they just so happen to be a close ally of mine.
More About Tartaglia: Closest Companion (Friendship Lv. 5)
There isnât many you can trust while working in an organization like the Fatui, *sigh* especially when most your coworkers are cunning Harbingers. Aside from being my assistant, (Y/N) is one of the only few people I can trust wholeheartedly. Theyâve accompanied me throughout the many battles Iâve fought, and though they might not be as great of a warrior as me- a given, theyâre quite the entertaining sparring buddy⌠when they start getting serious, I canât help but feel a few tingles crawl my back when I see their malicious eyes directed at me.
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hmmmm have been super busy but. the brain rot.... it's awakening
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quick learner (izuku midoriya x gn!reader)
notes: thanks goes to @/phen0l for beta-reading this and taking responsibility for putting the idea of izuku canât fucking kiss in my head. :D i low-key wish i coulda pushed the demonic corruption a little more but maybe another time.Â
warning: aged up characters (not explicitly stated but implied), pro-hero au, fluff, kissing, sorry deku sucks at it
The first time you kiss Izuku, it is abundantly clear that he is completely and wholly out of his element. Itâs not particularly surprising, not like lip locking is required learning when one becomes a pro-hero. But the way his body goes entirely rigid, his mouth a hard line, makes you wonder if he is trying to ward off demonic possession rather than engage in an act of intimacy.Â
Or it could be that youâve caught him entirely off guard, another feat in and of itself.Â
You pull back and eye Izukuâs reddened face curiously as you tilt your head to the side. âShould I not haveâŚ?â
He blinks at you, eyes widened like a deer in headlights, taking a second to process your words before he shakes his head fervently. âN-no! I mean⌠I just⌠I didnât mean toâŚ"Â
You smile with angelic patience and a devilish glint in your eyes as you move back toward him. The thought of asking him if itâs alright occurs, but you think youâll wait, just a little. You openly telegraph your movements, your intents, as your bodies draw closer. Izukuâs breath loudly and clearly hitches as you reach your hands for him, gently caressing his face, his neck, as you pull him closer, closer, closer.
Just as your lips are about to touch once more, you finally release your queued question, a sultry seduction. "Can I?â
He gasps, sharp and quiet before nodding once.Â
You smirk, the movement causing your mouths to just barely graze one another, but thatâs it.Â
After a full moment, Izuku twitches. Anxious maybe? Or even impatient. But you continue to hold still, waiting.Â
He shifts, mouth opening to say something, but you donât know what, because thatâs when you make your move.Â
It might be foul play, you think, waiting for a moment like this to close the distance, but itâs better this way. He is looser and more open to the corruptive power of a kiss. You feel his hands hover hesitantly behind you, aimless apparitions unsure of where to go or even maybe how to get there.Â
You pull back after a few seconds again and finally come clean. âYou kinda suck at this.â
Izukuâs face grows impossibly red, you feel bad, but he needs to hear the truth. âI⌠Iâm sorry!â
The apology earns him a laugh. âItâs okay. Not everyone is a natural born kisser.â
Your words donât seem to quite placate him.Â
âYou just need practice,â you say, not thinking too much about it.Â
âOkay.â Izukuâs hands finally find their way to you, his touch decisiveâeager, even. This time he draws closer, as he says, âAgain.â
He mimics your earlier movements, leaning in so that your lips just barely brush against one another, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. âIâm a quick learner, you knowâŚ"Â
Izukuâs voice is an alluring spell that makes you think he must be right as he presses his lips to yours this time.Â
He still needs practice, though.
A lot of it.
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tags: GN reader, ambiguous romantic relationship, kissing, light angst, dabi smokes in this (heâs also a flaky weirdo that breaks into ur bedroom when he wants to see you)
wc: 1.1k
Youâre roused by a sharp chill, still weighed by the lingering dregs of sleep. Instinctively curling into yourself to preserve the warmth of your body, your bleary eyes open above the bed sheet.
There is something familiar about this. Enough that a part of your mind itches, but too long since youâd last experienced it. Straddling your open window is a distinct silhouette, one booted foot flat on your bedroom carpet, the other swinging idly above the street.
The hard lines that make up his form expand and lift as he inhales deeply, a cigarette nestled in between two lithe fingers. He takes a long drag, the tip glowing through the dark. Limp wristed, he leans back against the window frame and exhales the smoke into the cold night.
Amidst the haze it is difficult to place the last time you'd seen him. Disappearances were routine with Dabi, but this time the period of absence felt like it wouldnât end. You presumed you would never see him again â in a moment of grief youâd even imagined him dead.
Youâve missed him so much that it supersedes the anger of being abandoned. As his presence registers your body jolts up into sitting position, abruptly rustling the sheets where theyâre tangled around your legs.
No acknowledgement. You exhale shakily, throwing off the blankets and hooking your legs over the edge of the bed, ââŚDabi?â
Bare feet touch the floor. The air immediately engulfs you into a cool embrace. You shiver, the soft hair on your arms lifting where your skin pimples. You are afforded a low hum and a sidelong glance over his shoulder as you approach.
The moonlight pierces through his irises, illuminated in a way that is haunting. Dabiâs eyes have always been clear, not unlike a tropical ocean surface â no flecks of yellow or green, no varying shades of blue. Theyâre beautiful, and yet despite that clarity, have always been paradoxically clouded.
You could look for hours, toeing through the sediment, and find nothing. You got whatever he gave, which was never much; but what little you held you knew the significance of.
âYouâre here,â you mumble.
The shadow of his tongue swipes quickly across his bottom lip. Dabi takes another drag of his cigarette and holds the smoke in his lungs. An arm reaches for you, wrapping around your lower back when you step forward. You watch his lashes flutter, head tipping back to expose the column of his throat as he breathes it out nice and slow.
âIâm here,â he repeats. His voice is low and rasped, amused in a way you had been longing for. You lean into his side, sliding your hand along his jawline as his thumb strokes back and forth against your hip. His muscles slack into your warmth like the tension was all that held him together.
Sometimes Dabi would squirm if you handled him with care. Tonight there is no distant look of discomfort at your affections. You trace your fingers lightly over the swell of his cheek, touching the cold metal of his rings. Under the moonlight you can see that the scarring has progressed further, mottling above the sutures.
âWhatâs the frown for?â he murmurs, tapping the ash from the tip of his cigarette onto the street below. Then he pauses, contemplating it between his knuckles. âAre you mad I started smoking again?â
âLogically I should be mad that you ghosted me for nearly three months,â you reply dryly, applying pressure to the fresh burn and releasing at the sound of his soft hiss. âYour skin got worse againâ.
It isnât a question but it still begs for an answer. He kneads idly at your waist and takes a final puff of smoke, likely to stall for time. The end glows red, smouldering as the heat eats away at the rolled paper.
You wait, trailing your fingers into his hair to scratch his scalp. He shudders, palm reflexively heating up through your clothes. Itâs obvious he doesnât want to talk about it.
âYou wanna come in?â you ask, setting the topic aside for now. âYou must be coldâ.
Dabi doesnât care about the cold, he spends most of his days numb to it. The excuse is flimsy and terribly transparent and he knows it. He flicks away the cigarette butt, mouth curved into a knowing grin, pulling at the skin of his cheek.
You move to stand between his thighs when he hooks his leg over the window sill, both feet now on steady ground. Smoothing over the back of your thighs, he coaxes you in. Tilted to look at you, his chin rests against your chest. âYou got a habit of letting strange guys into your apartment at night?â
âJust the one,â you murmur, cradling his face in your palms. âThough I probably shouldnâtâ.
He nods sagely and regards you with heavy eyes, âYou really shouldnâtâ.
The atmosphere shifts imperceptibly. You swallow. Itâs something you feel in your gut; a warm flame spreading to all the places his fingers touch. He must sense it, jaw tightening as he slowly slips his hands beneath your shirt to toy with the waistband of your shorts by the small of your back.
Dabi tastes like ash and smoke. His lips are always softer than they look, and he kisses you much in the same way. Gentle and unexpected. Blunt bitten nails sink into the fat of your hips and your arms slip loosely around his neck, mouth parting at the tentative lick of his tongue. He hums quietly, the sound of his satisfaction buzzing under your skin.
Your eyes flutter as he takes you between his teeth, pulling your lip and letting it snap back against your teeth. He kisses you again and again, uncharacteristically patient. Thereâs a sense of finality to his actions that you donât like â as if he were savouring you.
âDabi,â you whisper the name he gave you, drawing back to regain your bearings, connected by a thin line of spit that bends and breaks. Together, your panting breaths fill the anticipatory silence.
âCome to bedâ.
He stares back at you, expression carefully blank. Anxiety rears in your chest when that gaze slides over his shoulder, looking out into the night. But then, âAlrightâ.
âYou will?â
Dabi meets your eyes with a soft smirk. âYeah. Since you missed me so muchâ.
He pulls the window shut and you guide him toward the bed. Youâre sure heâll give you the chance to miss him again in the morning â your heart will be tender like a bruise and youâll berate yourself for ever having let him in.
But youâre certain youâll regret it more if you donât.
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drunk
characters: xiao, yanfei, zhongli, lumine
a/n: i wonder how long it'll take me to type this out as i correct the typos⌠it's already been about three or five of them in this short sentence. also, i'm writing all of these as i finish riding my drunk state.
anyways.
xiao is a quiet drunk. he's the type to try and pretend he's still sober, even though he very much isn't. you take his hand into yours and it's as warm as it is calloused. which is interesting.
he's usually so cool. almost cold. and now-
now, he's warm, and his drunk blush just intensifies as you peck the back of his hand and smile.
xiao tries not to look at you. he fails.
you are so, so beautiful, and it's almost magnetizing how you smile and giggle and look at him like he's everything, even though he doesn't deserve it.
(he takes pictures when you can't seem to focus- of you, smiling- of you, kissing some part of him- of you. beautiful, lovely, you.)
////
yanfei is⌠rambunctious. yanfei is as lovely as she always is, too, even as half her face turns red and the other half stays a shade of blush pink. she motions around as she explains (or- tries to-) some difficult concept to chongyun and xingqiu.
yelan gives her a glass of water and she pouts after downing it, noticing it's just water.
"yeeeelaaaaan, i want something sweet! like juice! or punch!"
yelan shakes her head. "it's all alcoholic, so water it is."
yanfei sulks a bit more, until she notices you watching and waves you over with a big smile. her usually lazy eyes look wide alive-
they shine like jade, only amplified by her red face.
her lips shine, especially as she licks them and you can't help but wonder what she tastes like- in more ways than one.
(you make your way over, smiling and happy. what more could you possibly want? she's all you ever need.)
////
zhongli sips his fine, aged wine. he sips gracefully.
you stare from a table, leaning your head on your arms, almost squinting at him as he converses with other fancy pants folks.
you're dizzy and clear headed at the same time. it doesn't matter much, because you keep getting distracted by the archon a few tables away, and he just finds new ways to make you dizzy all over again.
(sharp teeth nipping at your jaw, scales climbing up his neck under your hands and heavy breathing.)
your neck's still purple bruises- might explain the high collared outfit from today.
he meets your eyes for a brief moment or two and smirks, a look almost too cocky for the company- and then he smiles politely at someone else.
when your eyes meet again, you raise your glass in a gesture of toast and down it.
(all he can think about is pinning you to a wall, devouring you whole under that lovely high collared outfit and bare thighs.
when he does, he can't quite help the sharp teeth, the way the rocks beneath you mold to your shape or the scales engulfing his skin.
after all-
you're the only one who can make him go truly feral.)
/////////
the traveler doesn't drink.
when venti decides to treat everyone to drinks, you take it upon yourself to drink enough for the three of you, as she and paimon drink some juice.
it takes little time for you to get tipsy, a little more for you to start getting closer, and not much more for you to be laying on her thighs, a dizzy smile on your face as you take in her smell.
she smells nice- like the wind, like wind asters, likeâŚ
space. the universe. everything.
lumine sighs at you as your gaze turns unfocused in her lap, but says nothing.
after all, this feels like home. the only thing missing is a tipsy brother, and she'd have seen this a thousand times before. a tavern, a brother, and some fine company.
still- it's better now, because you're here too. she smiles, just slightly, but you catch it and grin up at her.
(you doubt she'll be here forever. you doubt she'll stay. but right now? it's good enough. it has to be.
and later, when you kiss her sweetly, it's more than enough.
you'll treasure the drunken memory for as long as you live.)
#sonho's tag#genshin impact#xiao#yanfei#zhongli#lumine#genshin x reader#x reader#yes i did write these while semi drunk#and im posting it now that im all good
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little drabble based on the scene where bosacius paints on alatus' (xiao's) face hehe
"who did this?" silence fell across the open space. all chatter died down as he stepped forward, glaring at each and every one of you gathered in a circle. golden eyes surveyed the area, lingering on each one for a second before his eyes narrowed and they fell upon you again.
"it was you, wasn't it?" alatus growled, holding up his hand to show smudged black ink. you bit your lip as you looked up to his face. a black circle surrounded his left eye and there were streaks across his left cheek.
"no! it wasn't me, i promise!" your voice sounded higher and you covered your mouth so as to not let him see the laughter that was bubbling up. it was no use. alatus lunged towards you as you scrambled backwards, laughter spilling out as he fell atop of you, his hands pinning you down as he scowled.
you could hear the others laughing at you and you couldn't help but join. "alatus, i swear, it wasn't me!" your faces were inches apart, and though he was glaring down at you, there was no hatred in those glowing golden eyes of his. he refused to move, even if he believed that it wasn't you, not wanting to push himself up and have to face the others who he was sure were already cooing at the position the two of you were in.
"i told you he would think it was them first." he hears bosacius snicker, so quietly he almost didn't hear it. "it was too easy for me." he narrows his eyes and turns his head slightly but his attention is brought back to you when you start laughing again and press your hands to his toned chest so you can sit back up. he lets you do so, waiting until bosacius opens his mouth again.
"aren't the two of you cute!" alatus ignores the heat on his cheeks as he pushes himself to stand and does his best to glare at the others. he knows there's no way for him to look intimidating with ink all over his face, but for the sake of his pride, he believes that he's scowling menacingly at them.
they're all struggling to hold in their laughter. indarias and bonanus lean in close together, whispering something he can't be bothered to hear. he knows its not them, they like to sit back and watch the trouble unfold. menogias is usually the level headed one, and though he too is trying to cover up his laughter, he wouldn't be the one to do this. which leaves bosacius, ever the troublemaker.
"it was you wasn't it." he directs his words at the purple yaksha, who sputters out nonsense. too easy.
"get back here!" even alatus can't stop the grin that begins to grow across his face. he'll deal with bosacius first, and then he'll come back to you.
reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3
a/n: this popped in my head and i just had to write it lol
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i've been busy with uni in general so that's why i'm posting less, but i'm definitely working on some stuff!
yan!genshin au yeehawww. some things are slightly to the left. the archons are a council with civilian forms too, which is how you meet them. the adepti, mystical beings like tengu, oni and the harbingers and stuff like that are kind of the generals and stuff of the archons, we don't know abt the other nations so this'll be outdated in a few years (or months) but anyways. i'll make this a series or smth with stuff for a bunch of the characters.
ofc, everyone is at least a little in love with you, even if not immediately y'know. the yandere part mostly applies to the archons.
more under the cut.
ok so in this, you're just a regular adventurer/traveler who loves discovering new places and... it's great. you love it, and it's like being a bird. you can fly to places, and feeling the wind flowing through your fingers is incredible. you're not actually a bird, but you have a glider, and it's good enough.
until you meet the archons. they each have a civilian form, to keep an eye on the situation for commoners and find stuff that the mortals won't tell them. and as you travel through teyvat, you meet them each in turn. it's not uncommon to never find out people's names in your travels, and sometimes you just forget to ask.
venti, the fun, alcohol loving bard, who regaled you with many a tale of the times gone by; zhongli, a consultant for a funerary in liyue, who you meet at a venue you visited to watch an opera; ei, a mysterious but kind figure at the shrine in inazuma, who was a bit clueless when it came to normal things but was very introspective, asking you about things you had never even comsidered.
perhaps, in retrospective, you should've known. the seven of them had stuck in your memory for far longer than regular folk, and rhey each carried a different sort of dignity to them.
and now, you're stuck in this beautiful abode up in the skies, unreachable but to the most powerful of the lands.
and after that first incident- wild fires spreading through the nations, floods and typhoons, earthquakes and decaying plant life, storms and lightning... well. this is your burden to bear. a caged bird. you may still have your wings, but is it worth the pain and death it'll cause the people?
so now, you content yourself with warm breezes and beautiful skies, luxury and the finest of silks. even if it makes bile come up your throat.
you swallow it down and keep living.
at least, you scoff to yourself, this cage is magnificent in its beauty.
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ok i'm gonna force myself to study and then i can write some genshin stuff. and play.
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