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#genshin impact reader insert
mayaree-darling · 5 months
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who's to say what's real or fake// Genshin SAGAU
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from aree: impostor au but you actually are the impostor? but ofcourse theres a twist. I think i'll call this FakeGrace!Reader. This was just going to be a headcannon post but ended up a whole fic plot
warnings: themes that all come with the sagau tag (yandere, lots of religious talk, cult, etc.)
word count: 2k~
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You end up on Teyvat and immediately the characters recognize you as their Creator; of course you're their Creator - you have the same face, name, and voice. You go through the ordeal of getting to know all the characters all over again and they in turn love you as the god they’ve been waiting for all this time.
You decide that well, this is the world and characters I spent blood, sweat, and tears building (even if it was behind a screen) so might as well help out and do what needs to be done. The people come to you for their problems and you find that they're not as difficult as when you were simply a player. Maybe a minor dispute here and there between the NPCs, but now the vision holders and the Archons ask for your thoughts on how to go about political matters concerning their nations. Even Snezhnaya has signed a peace treaty with the other nations as a show of good faith to the Creator (even if you know for a fact its a temporary one).
All has never been better.
Until another Creator appears in Teyvat, and this one bleeds gold the way their stories foretold. In a way you do not.
The vision holders are torn. Yes, you are an impostor, and they want to hate you for tricking them, but at the same time haven’t you only shown them love? Haven’t you been patient with them and understanding despite being thrown into a world you’re unfamiliar with?
But with careful coercion from the other god, they have to choose to follow their true Creator. You decide to take pity on them and step down from your position yourself, choosing to live with the Aranara who have gladly taken you under their wing (fake god you may be, you are still a friend of the forest, and the forest always remembers its friends).
The Archons tell their new Creator that you are no more. They pretend to not hear when the Creator says they should have brought your head with them, maybe just a bitter reaction for finding out that they have been serving an impostor all this time (the Archons are lying when they say they do not feel sickened at the idea of hurting you, and disgusted at this new God's words)
It soon becomes clear to the people of Teyvat that this new Creator is not you - none of the patience or kindness you had showed them. This new one thinks helping their people is below them, even laughs at some of their problems. They chuck their duties as a god to the vision holders and spend their days leisurely, wining and dining on the best food, expecting to be waited on hand and foot. And at first it was fine, the characters understood. Maybe their Creator was just enjoying the fruits of their labor for once (although in the back of their mind, they can't help but compare you - you who worked tirelessly to attend to everyone even when they’d almost beg you to take a break). The characters tell themselves that they just need to get used to this new god, their true Creator. It will all right itself in time. Even as the Creator acted more like a child by the day, calling for the punishment of characters for the simplest of things. It’s fine. It’s fine.
It didn't take long for their will to break.
The God of Wisdom is called as such for a reason. Nahida may be younger compared to the rest, but she is braver than most. She simply tried to impart a fraction of her wisdom, softly suggesting to the Creator to show mercy for their people who were gravely punished for things they did not do.
This Creator was not you. They did not have a drop of patience that you had, nor any love for their creations. Their god saw this as nothing but an act of treason. How dare a mere Archon tell them what to do? She dares to question who the Creator can and cannot punish?
The silence is deafening in the throne room as the Creator calls for the death of Lesser Lord Kusanali and the destruction of Sumeru. If it is mercy she asks for then it is the last thing she and her people will receive. The other Archons agree past gritted teeth, the sin of Khaenri’ah weighing heavy over their shoulders still.
Nahida had been banished to Sumeru before the order was given, so the Archons make their way to the Nation of Wisdom to tell her of her sentencing, hoping to beg her to ask the Creator for their forgiveness.
This can't be how it ends. Are they to spend their lives in fear of the god they so revered?
They enter a forest emitting divine energy in search of their friend, hearts heavy, but they found something else.
They found you. They found the Creator they loved once upon a time.
They seemed to have caught you mid-conversation with Nahida, and to their surprise (and resentment) the Tsaritsa; they can only assume that the god of Snezhnaya has informed you first of Nahida's fate. The Wanderer catches sight of them and stands in front of you in protection. You don't even bat an eye. You swallow hard and stand, Nahida's hand enveloped in yours, and the other gods would be lying if they say they did not feel jealousy strangling their lungs.
With a steady voice, you tell them that should they take one step against Nahida, you will meet them halfway. If they decide to send Sumeru to hell, they will have to go through you first. You will do everything you can to stop them, and if Sumeru falls then you fall with them.
They don't have to look at the others to make up their mind. There's a beat of silence but first it's Morax, and Beelzebul and Barbatos and then Focalor, and they are on their knees, heads bowed low.
It is only right to show respect to their god, after all. How could they be so blind?
Validation of their actions comes soon after as you let go of Nahida's hand and tell the Wanderer to stand aside. You do something that tyrant of a Creator that sits on a glass throne would never - you kneel before them and hold out your hand.
"Why are you all kneeling? Stand up. I am no longer your god. But I hope you will have me as a friend. Will that be alright?"
There are tears in their eyes as they let out stuttering laughter. Yes, this is their god. Their god with so much love and compassion and a heart that does nothing but bleed for them. A heart that does not ask for them to bleed.
You are their god. You are their true Creator. Golden blood be damned. All that gold has done nothing but blind them.
Eventually, you all end up on the forest floor. You accept the role of a friend as promised, and catch up with them. The Archons are almost in tears as you listen to their stories earnestly, squeezing their hands in sympathy as you listen to the pain they've been through under the rule of their so called Creator (they really should find a new title for you, the god that sits on your throne has sullied your rightful name). At one point they stop telling you stories of their mistreatment, unable to see your face be any sadder than it already was. They take to retelling your stories together, reminiscing better days - because is that not what they have done all this time? Think about the lovely you for every wrongdoing the other god had done in your name?
As you laugh and smile with them and their stories and their company, the idea burrows through their mind without your knowledge, taking root, and they refuse to let it go. Wouldn't it be so much better if it was always like this? Seeing your smiling face with them, a person that deserves to be called a god even more so than all of them combined. Knowing you were safe from harm, not having to defend yourself, especially from them under orders from a tyrant. Knowing you loved them the way they loved you.
It was all better with you.
When you weren't looking, the Archons gave each other knowing looks and curt nods in understanding.
You are their beloved Creator.
As a peaceful silence falls over you, they watch as you smile sadly, their hearts breaking to see such an expression on your face. In a soft voice, you apologize for not being able to do much to help them. When you lift your head, golden resolute eyes meet yours.
"You’ve done enough, Your Grace. Let us handle the rest."
You may have laughed at the old title, but the Archons are hell bent in returning it to you. Although it hurts them to say goodbye, they know it’s only for the moment. Soon, you will be with them. Back in your rightful throne, as you have always deserved.
Nahida is the youngest, and so they decide to spare her the carnage. The rest know she is no fool, they don't need to tell her what they had planned for her to know what happens next. She does not fully agree in the others' decision, yet she stays in Sumeru, promising to make sure you do not find out. Word travels fast to the other vision holders in the form of a breeze from Barbatos. Barely anyone had disagreed with the notion of removing the rejected god from the throne, and those who were hesitant at first changed their mind after hearing how you were ready to go down with Sumeru. Morax and the Tsaritsa lead the rebellion.
A god is only as powerful as the people who worship them. By the time the Archons arrived in the throne room, the Creator had no one to hide behind.
They made it a spectacle. They spin a tale for the people that the god they so worshiped was an impostor who had switched bodies with their rightful god, which explains the gold blood that should be yours. They say you were patiently waiting for them all to come back to you, to remove this impostor from your throne. You were ready to accept them all, they just needed to get rid of this filth that dared destroy your name. The Creator - no, the Impostor - is horrified when the people accept this story so easily, but they only have themselves to blame. Who cares what they have to say to defend themselves, although it’s not like they can anyway - how can they when their tongue was cut off?
Teyvat was silent as gold painted the streets of Liyue Harbor. Teyvat no longer cares for golden blood, not after all the blood and tears it had taken from its people. After all, a golden soul stands ready to take back their rightful place.
Your followers thought it had all been worth it - the pain, the hardships, the blood - to see you smile the first time you set foot outside Sumeru after what felt like years to them. And yet, despite the joyous occasion, you hesitantly turn to them and ask a question not even Irminsul would answer you.
"What happened to the Creator?"
You would be lying if you said the soft smiles each of them gave did not unnerve you as they all said the same thing, like a joke everyone knew all except you.
"We simply removed the Impostor from Your Grace's presence."
They are thankful that you are blinded by your love for them to see the gold shine on their hands. You do not ask about the shimmering streets either. Liyue was the city of gold after all, was it not?
For now, their biggest concern is your acceptance that they are your equal, but that can easily be fixed. You are their friend now, but someday you’ll be their god again. Slowly but surely. They will sit you back in your throne. They will kneel before you again. They will give you the reverence you so deserved.
It will all be yours.
You're their wonderful Creator, after all. Maybe not to you right now. But you always have been for them.
They’ll start from calling you Your Grace. You’d be too kind to tell them off over and over.
You always had been good at adapting.
You had gotten used to it then, you’ll get used to it again.
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✨ Masterlist ✨ 
Taglist: 💛@anime-allover  💛@faeriessky  💛 @prksolon 💛 @dai-tsukki-desu
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.
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the-original-skipps · 6 months
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If you know what this picture is you’ll know what this is about
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spy!scaramouche when he leaves for "work" he disappears for a couple of days only to reappear again without notice. You could just have gotten back from your job, only to see your boyfriend dressed casually lounging on the couch in your living room. "Oh, you're back." He says nonchalantly to you without looking up from his phone.
"I can say the same thing about you."
spy!scaramouche who moves around without any sound. He often surprises you by suddenly appearing behind you, as if he teleports. He does it on purpose so he can see your startled face. Your reaction is too cute. He can't help himself.
spy!scaramouche who may have installed cameras throughout your shared home. Due to his occupation he's gotta be careful of who might come after him or even you. He can also make sure you're safe when he's away. He installed them for purely security purposes; he's not a "pervert" or so he claims but sometimes he just likes to see what you're up to.
spy!scaramouche who is essentially like your bodyguard. A trip to the supermarket? Just wanna grab a drink at the cafe? He's going with you, it doesn't matter how small the errand is. He complains but he still goes along with you, even though you didn't even ask him too.
spy!scaramouche who may or not have installed location tracking on your phone. What? He's gotta keep you safe, what you don't know won't hurt you. One day, he just strolls in casually at the cafe you're sitting at and you wonder how he managed to find you.
“What? It’s just a coincidence.”
spy!scaramouche has a lot of weapons hidden in your home. Just don't go looking in the wrong place or else you might find a sniper rifle. He's gonna have a hard time coming up with an excuse for that.
spy!scaramouche secretly knows all about the people you’re associated with not just that he seems to know quite a few things about everyone. A man bumps into you causing you to wince. Scara’s face turns cold before immediately grabbing the arm of the man who bumped into you his grip tight enough to bruise.
“Pallad, watch where you’re going.”
“H-How do you kno-“
“Scram.”
The man could only yelp in fear before running away.
spy!scaramouche who teaches you self defense because "You're weak as hell and I won't always be there to protect you…" He tells you mumbling out the last part so you couldn't hear him. He gets to be up and personal with you, his hand lingering a little longer on your waist. His face too close to yours that you can feel his breathe fan your face. This is supposed to be a part of the self defense lesson too right? Though his eyes tell a different story.
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> spy? more like yandere
> ask box is always open for simping
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sarahsartistportfolio · 3 months
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SAGAU: A Rumor Spreads
Forewarns: Female reader, real self indulgent shit, not cult au, reader is a virgin, Kazuha having a bittt of a corruption kink, Wanderer having dubious intentions, this bit isn't 18+ but the following chapters will be, Cyno on his knees for us👀, Xiao yearning hard,
AO3
Kazuha - Cyno - Xiao - Heizou - Zhongli - Childe - Wanderer
“Ei I’m thinking of planning a girls only getaway at an Inazuma hot springs? Would you and Yae Miko like to help me out?” 
The two are immediately beaming and receptive to the idea. Any chance for you to spend more time in Inazuma is quickly snatched up. As you sit with the two lovely ladies, planning out who to invite, where to host the outing, you explain to them that you’d rather keep this event private. If word got around(especially to the other nations) that you were holding an exclusive get together in Inazuma(at an hot springs no less) you’re afraid some nosy guests might try to peep in on the conversation. The two swear to you they’ll keep their lips shut but as your invites go out rumors just tend to spread. Now every woman in the nation of eternity would love to attend this private get away, just to get an opportunity to speak to you their goddess one on one. And of course there are those with a little more devious intentions of seeing their beloved goddess in such an exposed state. 
Oh and of course once the word gets around to the boys, the absolute disappointment on their faces plus the swirling curiosity. A trip with just the girls? What will you speak about that you don't want any male ears to hear? Is it about them? Are you going to speak about them in private?
(Heizou not so subtly asking Sara what was said on this trip. Thoma sneakily listens in to conversations any of the women have on the estate that even mention your name. Itto loudly and desperately begging Shinobu to tell him where you are holding this outing so he can just, you know, not subtly spy on your conversations.) 
Despite the rumors still floating around, you follow through with this little getaway plan. With extra reassurance from Yae Miko that if she catches any peeping toms she'll be sure to zap them. 
And despite some of the girls being more nervous to be so up close and personal with you, others are just jumping at the chance to see you so laid back and vulnerable. And the steam from the hot springs just seems to melt away your walls, as the night goes on you find the conversation drifting to…romance. You tell Yae Miko how you love to write sappy cheesy romance novels and she’s more than happy to give some of your rough drafts a read. You playfully start to run your hands through Kirara’s damp hair just to hear her purr and now suddenly Yoimiya is asking “Me next! Me next!”
It isn't until you sheepishly say “Ah well despite writing about romance a lot I’ve never actually been in love or slept with anybody.” that an audible pause washes over the group. The deer scare making a loud echoing “clink”.
Now they all begin to coo and question you. 
“There’s no way no one hasn’t fallen head over heels for your Grace yet?! You must be like thousands of years old, surely you’ve stolen someone’s heart” Yomiya loudly proclaims.
“Aww so you’re saving yourself for your one true love, how cute.” Yae Miko insinuated.
“When you say it out loud its embarrassing-”
“Has anyone caught your eye yet your Grace?” Sara asks a bit too calmly as she and Ei eye you down with anticipation. 
The girls continue to grill you with nosy questions “What’s your ideal type?” “Do you prefer men or women more?” 
And you answer them with giddiness, happy to spill your life long dreams of getting married and having a family of your own one day.
“Ah, so you desire to get married and become a mother?...” Yae Miko vocalized aloud, wondering what this would mean for the whole of Tayvet. 
“I know it's a silly little dream of mine…”
“It's not silly at all, your Grace!” Yomiya cheerfully chimes in. “If you have your heart set on someone let me know and maybe I can set up a huge fireworks display that spells out I love you.” She giggles and Kirara nods in agreement.
Thanks but I don't really want anyone to play matchmaker…
The rest of the night goes on with laughter and drinks. The women feeling blessed to see this vulnerable side of you. You assume the conversations you had with the ladies will remain private but…it seems like someone has loose lips.
Soon days after the trip, rumors start to pop up.
“Ah didn't you hear our dear goddess is still a virgin, as pure as a lily kissing the sun’s rays for the first time.” “I aspire to have the same chastity as her.” “I heard she’s specifically looking for a husband because she wants to have kids.” “Surely if she chooses a man from our nation that means she’ll permanently reside here right?”
When you meet up with Venti again he’s a little more gleeful than usual. And when you part to say goodbye he leans in, eyes close but you abruptly stop him with a hand covering his mouth.
“What are you doing?”
“I wanted to kiss you before anyone else does.” He says with disappointed eyes, voice still muffled by your hand. When you allow him to speak more it's then that you know. Somebody in at that hot springs squealed. 
And there’s no stopping these nosy rumors once they start going. What happens when they reach the ear of...?
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kunikuma · 3 months
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relationship | wriothesley x gn!reader
synposis | the journey of self-worth is a long one, but wriothesley is a patient man. content | fluff cw | heavily implied low self-worth reader, high-level journey of findin' yaself pooks a/n | this one goes out to my fellow pookies in chat who apologize too much. i remembered reading an inspo quote somewhere about taking up space and taking up as much space as you can. came to mind at work... if someone knows what i'm talking about, pls lmk! it's haunting me and i want you all to read it for yourself. i just wanted to write more "good bf wrio" fics.
masterlist
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“listen to me, sweetheart.”
wriothesley’s firm words fought against the cloud of self-doubt accumulating tumultuously in your brain. when you met his strong gaze, it was like the true warden of the fortress had taken over. he was peering into your very being, his eyes waltzing around to scrutinize your teary visage. 
before you can utter a retort about how you were listening loud and clear, he presses a dark-clothed hand against the warmth of your cheek. the discerning gaze of the warden softens into his usual simpering hues. his lips part to deliver words he prayed clung to your mind. 
“gentle reminder,” he starts with a tender smile, “it’s okay to take up space in people’s lives. that doesn’t make you a burden.”
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it was a slow, slow, slow process of getting you to become comfortable being your own person.
it took a while for you to build the confidence to stop apologizing when someone bumped into you on the busy streets of fontaine.
it took even longer not to feel guilt when your belongings took up extra space on the aquabus.
it took even longer than that to not fluster and apologize to the handsome man at your side when you awkwardly explained you were dying for his attention. 
in the chilly prison under the sea, evidence of your efforts began to sprinkle themselves around. 
you had rightfully started to take up space in people’s lives. 
one day, he noted that a cliche book he would never claim to read sat on his desk. 
months later, your nightly clothes found solace in an unoccupied drawer in his office.
even a little bit after that, you asked if he’d like to read his own books while you did the same at his side.
after a year and a half, the duke felt a need to refurnish his office, so he put in an order for a petite couch for two. 
when you had hastily bit your tongue to prevent yourself from insisting otherwise, he grinned with unrepressed pride. you had begrudgingly grumbled and hugged him in thanks. 
during this, he pressed his smiling face into the side of your neck and breathed happily.
“‘m so proud of you, sweetheart. you’ve come a long way.”
in the bright nation of fontaine, you were slowly but surely claiming space. though, to wriothesley, you always had claim to the previously empty space in his life and his heart.
you laughed when his fluffy hair tickled your neck during his nuzzle. you mumbled about how the journey to establishing self-worth was taking a little longer than you thought. his scoff was muffled, but his love in his words was loud and clear.
"well, aren’t you lucky? i'll be stuck by your side every step of the way." 
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ddollipop · 1 year
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I BLOOM JUST FOR YOU. . . ! — ( TIGHNARI. )
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#. synopsis! — the reader comes into contact with a peculiar flower in avidya forest that has some even more peculiar affects. tighnari steps in to clean up the mess.
#. contains! — explicitly nsfw content , multiple positions , multiple orgasms , oral sex , cunnilingus , sex pollen , overstimulation , light squirting , vaginal sex , mentor x underling , tighnari calls the reader "good girl" , slight praise .
#. word count! — 4.1k .
#. a/n! — happy kinktober, we'll see how many times i post this month lolol. this isn't proofread bc i'm lazy & just finished up midterms yesterday, so pls ignore any mistakes for the time being n enjoy.
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Don’t judge a book by its cover. As a well-educated scholar, you were well beyond aware of that advice. You’ve heard it more times than you’ll ever care to repeat it, and before now, you would have even ventured to say that you were quite good at following it. And yet, despite that, you’ve been left stumbling your way through the forest, an unquenched thirst lapping at every inch of you from the inside out, —and all of this over a few samples of some strange flower’s pollen? Really?
It’s embarrassing, to say the very least of it. There are a million and one ways you know you should have done better, should have been more careful, more cautious. . . But now is hardly the time to be giving yourself some sort of incoherent lecture. After all, Tighnari will likely have that covered anyway, and certainly in a much more concise manner. You can practically hear him now, going on and on as he helps you deal with whatever the hell this stuff has done to you. It’s hard not to kick yourself for such a novice level mistake, but it’s just as equally difficult to imagine taking any criticism well, from yourself or from Tighnari, in this admittedly sorry state of yours.
It’s an incredible feat within itself that you were able to find your way back to Tighnari’s woodland workshop. The forest is dense and full of twists and turns, —ones that you find yourself turned around in on even the best of days. Maybe after two months you’re finally getting used to it.
Whatever the case, you slink your way inside to the tempo of the rapidly setting sun. Your knees all but clink together as you fumble about, using the wall to keep yourself steady. Tighnari’s ears twitch at the sudden sounds of struggle, head popping up along with the perked ears atop it. Observant as he always is, he quickly realizes that something is wrong. What that something is, he’s not so sure yet, but he rushes to your side nonetheless.
“Y/n?” He questions, reaching a warm, gentle hand out to you. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Just the brush of his fingertips against the plane of your shoulder is enough to leave you stiffened and hissing under your breath. These reactions aren’t inherently unfamiliar to you, —but under such circumstances? They’re unheard of.
“I feel weird,” you say, inhibitions lowered, leaving you more honest than you normally would have been if everything weren’t buzzing so loud in your veins.
Your heartbeat is hammering away, legs squeezing together involuntarily. The heat between your legs is pulsing and you can feel arousal slicking you up. But why?
“Weird?” Tighnari parrots, “—weird how? As in. . .”
He cuts himself off mid-sentence, then pauses. His nose crinkles a bit, and you hear him suck in a sharp breath. When his eyes widen in an expression of realization, you can’t help but fear that this isn’t going to end very well. 
“Describe your symptoms,” he says finally, but it seems to you that he may well already know what you’re going to answer with.
Through the haze clouding your mind and the heat swimming through your body, you manage to list off a sizable index, excluding your dripping cunt. Weakness in the knees, racing heartbeat, shortness of breath. . .
“I know this smell,” he says, emphasizing his words with another quick breath in, nose scrunching up on the inhale. “The samples you collected today, —where are they?”
“The satchel,” you answer, vaguely directing your chin in the right direction as you shift your position, hoping that it might relieve you of some of the tension eating away at your core. (It doesn’t.)
Tighnari follows your gesture and scoops the brown bag up off the ground. You’d dropped it somewhere along the line as you’d stumbled in through the entrance, but the details are already much too blurry to work out, so you refuse to even try. The last thing you need now is more strain on your feeble little mind. He digs his way into the various pockets, rifling through your decent number of plant-life samples. One of the tiny containers has a selection of poisonous berries in it, but Tighnari is fairly certain you wouldn’t have been foolish enough to eat them without knowledge of them.
He asks anyway, —just to be sure. It’s better to be safe than sorry.
“You didn’t swallow any of these, right?”
Through the subtle arch of your back, you give him an offended glance. He takes that as his answer.
“No, no, no,” he mumbles, quickly but carefully carding through the rest of the samples, excluding non-toxic plant matter and otherwise harmless collections.
And then it hits him. Spread between two hands, he holds three containers of the same off-white, powder-like pollen. The sickeningly sweet smell sticking to your skin makes too much sense now. He knew that he’d smelled it before, but couldn’t place it. Now that two and two have been put together, Tighnari feels a pit grow in his gut.
“You collected this without gloves, didn’t you?” He questions, and you hate that even through your stupor, you can hear the disappointment ebbing along the edge of his words.
The least this feverish karma could do is offer you some sanctuary from your mentor’s subtle wrath.
“I. . .” You begin, but can’t bring yourself to admit it, instead settling for a nod.
It’s getting worse now. You’re shocked that you’re not sitting in a pool of your own arousal by this point, but fear you might be teetering on the cusp of it. The whine that escapes between your lips from the back of your throat is humiliating in spite of Tighnari’s indifference to it all.
“That was a poor decision,” he tells you. “The pollen of the flower you collected these samples from is genetically modified. It was designed to stimulate the sexual drive of mammals in the area due to a sudden population drop that was offsetting the forest’s ecosystem.”
“This,” Tighnari says sharply, holding one of your samples up for emphasis, “is a heightened aphrodisiac, and from the looks of it,” he pauses, taking your shivering form in with a scrutinizing gaze, “—you’re quite sensitive to it.”
That seems like an understatement, even to you and your staggering thoughts. Being sensitive was one thing, but this was on a completely different plane of reality. Every move you make sends a tantalizing mixture of shivers and shockwaves across your body, both inside and out, limiting your options for relief. It didn’t stop at the swelling heat festering and bubbling in your groin, —it spread to every part of you imaginable, from the dry hum in your clenched toes to the ringing in your ears. 
“How do I fix it?” You question breathlessly, hips dipping and rising to the catastrophic drum of your libido.
Tighnari’s ears flatten a bit in embarrassment as his cheeks dust themselves a light pink. It hardly dawns on you that he might be feeling some semblance of shame in this scenario as well.
“Well, you’ll have to. . .” He stops, as if preparing himself to say whatever’s coming next.
You’ve got a bad feeling about it now, even if it doesn’t register above the quiver in your thighs.
“Satisfy the drive.”
He turns away to put the pollen samples out of harm's way, busying his hands so as to not have to meet your eyes.
The broken “huh?” that falls from your lips sounds more like a moan of pleasure than it does a noise of inquiry, but it’s the best you can do given the circumstances. Tighnari is not proud of the way his cock twitches upon hearing it, but supposes that it can’t be helped. It’s undeniable that you’re attractive, both in general and to him. . . Especially to him.
Unable to force it down any longer, your hand travels between your thighs and you cup yourself roughly, begging for the warmth and friction it provides. Just that alone has a tattered moan rising to the back of your throat, head falling back against the wall that steadies the small bed in Tighnari’s workshop. It’s seen many bodies over the years, most of them ill or injured, but never like this. Your mentor thinks to himself that he’s glad it’s you before anyone else. He turns to you once more, eyes raking over your frame in this embarrassing state.
“T-Tighnari,” you sputter a bit, attempting to hold yourself in place long enough to escape the humiliation. “Can you please look away?”
Before he can filter it, (though he’s not sure he would have truly known how in the first place,) Tighnari’s lips part and words tumble from his tongue like heavy rainfall.
“I can help.”
It sounds more like a question than an assertion, but either way, you’re in no position to refuse.
“Please,” you whimper, desperation clinging to every letter.
Maybe some of the pollen has affected him too. Maybe Tighnari just wants to dive deeper into this moment to see just what’ll happen, like some kind of very hands-on experiment. Whatever the case, he nods, ears twitching rapidly as he leans over you, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss that leaves you gasping into his mouth. Somehow, you hadn’t expected that to be his mode of aid, but whatever he thinks is best, you’re more than willing to give it a try. For someone so consistently calm and collected, his tongue slides into your mouth in a matter of seconds, sliding smoothly against your own. There is no fight for dominance, —you’re far too gone to even think about being in control. Whatever Tighnari can offer, you’re ready and willing to accept with open arms.
Or, an open mouth and open legs, rather. . .
Your saliva is overwhelmingly sweet, and the quizzical side of Tighnari wonders if it’s always like that, or if the pollen’s effects have slithered into even the most crude of places. Not that he minds it, especially in the moment.
You mumble something against his lips that he doesn’t catch through the hum in his veins and his pounding heartbeat, but his guess hits the mark as he clumsily falls to his knees at the edge of the bed. Pulling the shoes from your feet with ease, he has a bit more difficult of a time pulling the bottom layers of your clothing from your body. It dawns on him then that he isn’t well-educated or well-experienced in this department. Thankfully, you’re so blissed out having only kissed him sloppily for a minute that he assumes you’ll take just about anything, and he’s free to make mistakes along the way.
He pauses for a moment, much to your displeasure, and you sit forward using the bulk of your strength.Your fingers split his ears apart, raking through his neatly groomed hair, and Tighnari shivers. Admittedly, you’ve wanted to touch his ears for a long time now, ever since you first met him. . . But it seemed inappropriate to ask given his station as your mentor, and even more than that, you could always tell he became quite agitated when others would request such a thing to his face. This isn’t how you thought such a thing would come to pass, but the dominos have fallen, and it is what it is.
Frankly, you’re more concerned with the way he slits you open: —first with his tongue, offering a small prodding with barely more than the tip to get a grasp on your flavor. The arousal slicking you up is sweet, maybe sweeter than your saliva had been, but even so, Tighnari isn’t certain if it’s just your natural secretion or if that pollen really does have something to do with it. The second time is with his fingers, separating the lips to catch a glimpse of the silken folds they cover. 
You’re glistening in the last rays of dying sunlight, legs perched on either side of yourself, and Tighnari wonders if this is all some strange fever dream. Every part of him feels as if it’s been consumed by you; lost to your tempo and your rhythm. He’s drowning in your ocean.
His second taste is brought about through a long, deliberate lick that uses the full flat of his tongue. It brushes past your swollen clit, dips into the needy opening, and lingers just below your mound before he pulls away and does it again. There’s something about the way you squirm and pant from so little that has him less than threads away from going feral. Your entire body is hotter than it’s ever been, temperature spiking more the longer he has his way between your thighs. Tighnari may well be a forest-dwelling man, but he certainly could have fooled you with this display of primal thirst. The way he works his tongue against every sweet spot it can reach is enough to make you see stars.
In the moment, he seems something more akin to a prowler of the desert than anything else.
You draw one of your stabilizing hands up, pressing the fingers firmly over your lips, keeping them sealed. Every inch of you is throbbing with need, even as Tighnari satisfies what urges he can with his mouth. Observant as ever, he notices the way your lone arm shakes under the pressure of it all, and after a moment of admiring the way your muscles quiver just under your skin, he pulls away and seeks a different position.
Even when riled up beyond any shred of comprehension, Tighnari is a gentleman at heart.
“Lay back,” he suggests, and you do: right against the top of the bed that’s houses but a single pillow.
He wastes no time positioning himself back between your legs, pushing your knees to the side and then up just a bit for ample access. This time, Tighnari skips the inquisitive gestures, spitting right onto your slit before suctioning his mouth around you. From above, your moans and the way you writhe around every so often encourages him to keep going as saliva bubbles up around his lips.
You claw at the thin sheets spread across the bed’s equally thin mattress, hips eventually bucking up into his mouth. He loves the way your pussy grinds against the flat of his tongue, moving with him as he pulls you closer and closer to orgasm. Pulling your knees nearer to your core, Tighnari matches your stride. Once more, he latches onto your sensitive clit, relishing in the little yelp you let out as he slides his tongue across it roughly. Above your own noises and the suckling sounds between your thighs, you can hear Tighnari’s sharp breaths. As your fingers find their way between his ears again, clutching and pulling at his hair, he draws little shapes along your clit with his tongue until you’re left cumming against his mouth.
Whether it’s Tighnari’s skill or the ever-present impact of the pollen, your eyes roll back and your fingernails dig into the flat of your palms even through the fabric of the sheets clutched between them. Somehow, though. . . It’s not enough.
“Better?” He asks, —but is secretly hoping for the answer to be a resounding “no.”
He’s embarrassingly elated when you shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip in the process. It’s not that he wants to take advantage of the situation, but what else is a man to do? You’re in desperate need, and he can offer you the assistance you require.
That, and he really wants to fuck you.
“It’ll be okay,” he says, extending his back as he sits on his knees to reach up and cup your cheek. “I’ll take care of it.”
Every cell inside you is on fire as you watch Tighnari undress. The sun has mostly finished setting, leaving the both of you in the care of torchlight from the entrance of the workshop. The warm glow of the fire accentuates his lean muscle and the subtle pigment of his skin. Without thinking, your hand travels to the heat between your legs, rubbing circles against yourself as Tighnari had done with his tongue. Just the sight of you masturbating to him undressing is enough to make pre-cum pool along the slit of his cock.
“I don’t even think you realize how hot you are right now,” he breathes out, as if unable to keep that sentiment holed up inside any longer.
You really didn’t have a clue.
He returns to the bed, tugging you up to position you on his lap. Your dripping cunt hangs just over the reddened tip of his cock, and Tighnari holds your hips steady as he coaxes you down on it. Albeit average in girth, he was surprisingly long, —at least longer than you’d been expecting. It takes you a few moments to slink down completely, but when you do, he reaches up to pull you into another sloppy kiss. He was hoping it would distract you from any sting of pain.
“Good,” he mumbles against your lips, “that’s a good girl.”
Tighnari does away with the rest of your clothing, tossing your blouse and bra. . . Somewhere. You were far too preoccupied to check on the location. His lithe fingers trail their way up your exposed spine. You’re so warm and wet, your walls suckling on the hard cock of his buried deep within your needy snatch. He doesn’t want to rush you, but he’s aching too by now.
“Go on,” he whispers softly, encouraging you to ride him for the both of your sakes.
You do.
Overly sensitive and shaky from the get-go, your moves aren’t clean nor crisp, but Tighnari loves the rogueness of every motion. You’re left squelching around his length each time your desperate cunt swallows him up again, clit throbbing from the friction. Moans fall continuously from your lips, ringing in Tighnari’s ears like a melody the moment you rest your forehead against his bare shoulder as you ride him. Eventually, his hands find their way to your ass, helping you find a natural rhythm that suits your capabilities in the moment.
He can feel you quivering against him, and he thinks it’s cute.
“Good job,” he praises in a breathy voice, mumbling the words right into your ear. “Just keep it up and we’ll get all of this out of your system.”
Tighnari is by no means stingy with compliments. Now that he’d settled in, he was more than glad to whisper sweet nothings in your pink-tipped ear, mumbling about how nice it feels to be inside you and how beautiful you look speared on his cock like this. And every last word of it is painfully true.
You bounce and grind to your heart’s content on his member, digging your nails into his supple skin in the process. The little twinges of pain paired with the heat of your drooling pussy leaking arousal all over him is well past the point of blissing him out.
When he reaches between your bodies to slide the tip of his thumb over your clit, it doesn’t take long before you’ve been pushed over the edge. That first orgasm really loosened your nerves, making you that much more sensitive, which was somehow possible in spite of your skepticism. Tighnari loves the way your back arches when you cum, chest pressing right up against him. He’s yet to chase his own release with your body. That will undoubtedly come with time, —but this is about you, and Tighnari is nothing if not willing to put your pleasure before his own.
It just so happens that his coincides very much with yours, in this instance.
He doesn’t even rush you as your second orgasm wears off, instead waiting until your cunt stops periodically clenching around him before he suggests another position change.
This time, Tighnari wants you on your side; which offers you a welcome rest. His front matches the curve of your back as he wraps a single arm around your neck, pulling you close to him. With his free hand, he reaches out to grab hold of your leg, pulling it up to offer himself better access to your entrance. With both of his hands full, it’s up to you to guide him inside, and when you do it feels like heaven. There’s something special about the angle of this position that lets him poke and prod at all the right places, and when he cranes his neck forward, sticking his tongue out for you to suck, you waste no time in latching on to lap at his mouth.
The frantic desperation in your every move is somehow angelic, despite the lewdness of it all. Tighnari thinks to himself that he could sit here just like this, watching you wiggle and writhe against him, for an eternity or two.
Tighnari cants his hips, slapping himself against the flesh of your ass every time he slams back in. The head of his long cock eventually angles just right, and you squeal just a bit when he brushes against the sweetest spot inside you. A smirk pulls at Tighnari’s lips.
“That’s the spot, hm?” He asks, slowing his pace deliberately in order to offer you a series of slow, delicious hammerings that hit just right.
You slur something out through the fog on your brain that somewhat sounds like “yes” before bringing your hand down to play with yourself. Between your shaky fingertips swirling around your clit and the head of Tighnari’s cock slowly pumping against your g-spot, it’s less than sixty seconds before you’re cumming for the third time, pussy convulsing around your mentor. This time, liquid seeps out uncontrollably from the hole Tighnari is stuffed in. It’s not a lot, but it’s incredibly warm, and it dribbles down your thighs before soaking into the sheets.
He loves the way it feels as it trickles down his shaft when he finally decides to pull out.
“One more time, just for good measure,” Tighnari mumbles, pressing both your shoulders to the mattress. 
He’s yet to cum himself, and this time, he’ll be seeking his own release in tandem with yours. His thumb presses against your tongue for a moment as he waits for your breathing to even out. When it does, he pushes your legs apart once more and stations himself between your thighs. It’s an easy entrance, of course, but your walls still grip him just right. Cum slicks him up further and strings itself between your cunt and his length, as if emphasizing his every move.
He likes the way you bite down on the side of your hand, eyes half-lidded from pleasure. The trust you place in him is both sincere and incredibly stimulating for your fox-eared lover.
This position is simple, yet fulfilling all the same. Tighnari listens to your little noises, watches your eyes dance about in your skull, and has an equally thirst-quenching view of his own reddened cock shifting in and out of your cunt. His mouth waters from just the sight of it alone.
“This is an important lesson,” he says, emphasizing that with a particularly rough thrust that leaves your spine arching off the bed. “These are the things that happen when you collect unknown plant matter without gloves.”
Your body burns both from the shame of having disappointed him, and from the way his length fills you up.
Tighnari doesn’t say it, but he knows that you understand you don’t have to go and send your body into hyperdrive to garner his attention. You’re a smart girl, after all. . . All you have to do is ask.
With just a few more pumps in and out, Tighnari feels his own orgasm bubbling just under his skin. Your body mourns the loss when he pulls out for the final time, resting the tip of himself against your slit. As he rubs the head of his cock against your swollen clit, the both of you climax, your cunt throbbing and convulsing as he spills his seed between the lips of your pussy. It dribbles down so beautifully, like sticky sap from a tall tree.
Surprisingly composed given the circumstances and Tighnari’s rather conservative demeanor, he allows himself a bit of calming down before sliding off the bed and redressing. It’s a quick process, one that makes your head spin.
“Clean yourself up while I’m gone,” he tells you, seemingly back to his typical self. “I’ll dispose of the pollen before you find yourself in an even worse predicament.”
But, at least you were spared the majority of the lecture.
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genshinirrelevance · 2 months
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Records of a Little Noodle
Quick notes: This blog is a blog with two(2) writers. Happy Lunar New Year! Year of the Dragon means more silly noodle content! Or at least that's my hope. Zhongli and the small dragon are two different entities. You can read it as platonic relationship with Zhongli. I'm probably never going to explain why the little chonk exists, I just think it's funny that way and it fits with how silly Zhongli is. -Fungyi
Zhongli being in his small chunky noodle dragon form. Except it’s a separate entity and Zhongli won’t elaborate why it exists as he stands there in his human form ignoring its attempts to get his attention.
“Zhongli!” You called out as you tried to find the key to his house.
You were a frequent visitor whenever you were done with your commissions, so Zhongli gave you a copy of his key to his house in case he wasn’t home. He didn’t want you sitting outside while waiting for him, something you did no matter how much he told you not to.
Whenever you came back to Liyue you always wanted to converse with Zhongli no matter what. It just made the day a little better regardless if it was good or bad. Plus you usually had a gift for him anyways. More often than not you would bring him a souvenir of somesort. Whether it was a pretty rock you found or a bag of tea you found on sale, he always accepted them happily.
The items in your pocket jingled until you felt the little keychain he gifted you. It was a simple cor lapis polished into a round and shiny pocket sized gem. You pulled it out and attached to it was the copy of his key. It slotted into the keyhole with ease and clicked open as it turned.
“Zhongli!” You shoved the door open with a smile. “Zhongli! Guess what! I went to Fontaine this time and there was this tea--”
There it sat. A chonky little brown potato. It stared at you in shock with its beady little eyes with its stubbed paws curled into itself. The little golden horns glowed a little where it sat on the table and its fluffy yellow tuff of a tail stood upright. With its yellow accents on its brown body, you only thought of one thing.
“Zhongli?”
“Mrrrr?”
It tilted its head as it let out a noise.
You slowly backed up and slowly swung the door to your side. In a flash your vision was filled with brown and you were knocked off your feet. You screamed. You flailed around as the little creature flailed its little paws on your head. Whether it was attacking you or not was a mystery considering how it didn’t hurt, it was just surprising how this little chonker decided to jump you.
Not a moment later the chonk was lifted from your head, dragging a few strands of your hair with it. “Are you all right?”
You shook your head and looked up. Zhongli stood there staring at you with concern as he held the potato by its neck. It crawled upwards, kicking its little stubby feet at Zhongli’s hand. He combed your hair back to its usual style and offered you a hand.
You grabbed his hand and he lifted you with ease. “I’m sorry about this little one. I didn’t think it would jump at you.” Zhongli picked up your bag that you had dropped and brought it over by the couch.
“Zhongli, what is that chonker,” you asked as you closed the front door.
“Chonker?” He lifted the little creature to his eye level. “This? No need to worry about it, it’s not dangerous.” He smiled at you.
“It just attacked me.”
“Worry not, it has no claws.”
“It still counts as an attack.”
“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt you.”
“Zhongli--”
“Let me brew you some tea.” He walked over to the corner and placed the creature in a box before heading to the kitchen. It whined as it popped its head out, watching Zhongli walk away. You swear you saw its beady eyes shimmer a little as if it was going to cry.
“Oh, speaking of tea,” you said half heartedly, “I brought some tea from Fontaine…” You side stepped towards the couch, watching the sad potato sit in the box. It turned its head towards you and you ducked behind the couch, blindly reaching for your bag.
The sounds of running water came from the kitchen as Zhongli prepared the pot. “What tea did you bring? Fontaine’s tea is quite different from Liyue’s…” he rambled over the sounds of running water as you were hiding and staring down at the potato.
Zhongli called out to you. You weren’t responding to his usual rambling. He walked to see you behind the couch still trying to grab your bag and staring at the creature in the box. He let out a chuckle, “Don’t worry, the little critter is what’s known as a “time out box”. It’s well behaved, it won’t jump at you again.”
You grumbled, not believing him. “What is it though? Why does it look like a miniature version of that exuvia form you had at those Rite of Descensions.” You finally obtained your bag and looked for the tea.
He hummed and placed a hand to his chin. “I suppose you can say that’s an accurate description. It is in a way, the miniature version of that form.”
You pulled out the tea package. “You haven’t answered my question…”
“Is that the tea?” Zhongli walked over to grab the tea. With his long legs he was at one end of the room and disappeared into the kitchen in an instant. 
“Zhongli…”
Zhongli was rambling on about tea and some other topic that you stopped listening to. Your curiosity of the little potato got the better of you. You crawled over slowly as it watched you. At some point you were just petting and scratching its little head as purred in delight. It sat in the little box happily wagging its little tail with its paws resting on the edge of the box.
“Zhongli, does the potato have a name?”
“No, it doesn’t. That reminds me, I heard there was a drink that was recently trending in Fontaine…”
You booped its nose. “Zhongli, is this chonker like, your relative?”
“No.” The soft thuds of tea cups were being placed on the table. “The tea is ready. Come, it’s best to drink it fresh.”
“Can I bring the chonker?”
“Just mere minutes ago you were staring at it like one of those spectors you hated so much and now you want to play with it?” He looked at you with wide eyes filled with confusion.
“It’s cuter than the spectors. Aren’t you cute, little potato?” You gave it more head scratches. Your words started muffling into baby talk. “A very rude potato that attacked me. But a very cute potato. So chonky.~”
Zhongli watched you in disbelief. With you booping its nose and baby talking, it almost looked like you were the one bullying it. It let out squeals of amusement as it tried swatting your finger. He mumbled, “If it apologizes for jumping you then I suppose you can bring it over to the table.”
The little creature perked up and gave you the cutest puppy eyes possible in the entirety of the universe. You squealed a little at how cute it was and scooped it into your arms. 
“You’re totally forgiven, you cute little noodle doodle!” You gave it little kisses as you cooed at it. “Mwah! Cutie patootie!”
Zhongli called out to you.
“Mwah! Whittle itty bitty noodle! Mwah!”
Zhongli stared at you.
“Mwah! I’ll call you Noodle-li! Just like Zhongli!”
“Don’t."
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fanfictwins · 3 months
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SAGAU Mondstadt - Holiday Special 2023
Summary: “When you told the Spark Knight about holidays from your home world, you never expected it to turn into such a big deal. But who are you to argue with having a holly, jolly time?”
Word Count: ~9.8k
“Master Jean! Master Jean!”
The door to the Grand Master’s office was shoved open, almost slamming into the wall, as the Spark Knight burst into the room, excitement radiating off of her form like heat off of flames. She came to a stop in the middle of the office, almost toppling over from the weight of her backpack.
“Can we please have a “Christmas” festival? Pretty please?”
“Klee…!” Jean looked up from her desk, her eyes widened. “You shouldn’t be-”
Her words were cut off at the sight of you appearing in the doorway to the office, your demeanor a lot more calm than Klee’s. You entered the room, an apologetic smile displayed on your lips.
“Oh, Your Grace!”
“Sorry for the intrusion, Jean.” You looked at the Acting Grand Master for only a moment before you shifted your attention down at Klee. “Hey, I know you’re excited, but you shouldn’t just barge into Jean’s office without knocking first, Klee. Remember what I told you about good behavior?”
“Oops. That’s right… sorry, Master Jean.” Klee looked down at her feet for a moment, before a smile returned to her face as she looked up at Jean. “Klee’s just super excited about Christmas!”
Jean furrowed her eyebrows, confusion appearing in her frown. “Christ… mas?”
“Mmm-hmm!” Klee nodded her head. “It’s something Their Grace just told Klee about!”
Your smile shifted into something more sheepish when Jean looked towards you again. “I was just talking to Klee about some… winter festivities from where I’m from, and she seems to have gotten a bit excited about Christmas, in particular. I honestly should’ve expected this, heh…”
“It sounds really, really fun!” Klee began bouncing on the balls of her feet. “There’s a big tree, and lots of presents under it, and this old man named Shanty Cloths who likes eating cookies!”
“His name is Santa Claus, Klee.” You stifled a chuckle at the excitement on Klee’s face, before looking over at Jean again. “But, yeah, she wants to experience the magical joys of it herself.”
The Spark Knight took a step closer to the desk, looking up at Jean with hopeful eyes.
“Oh, can we please have a Christmas festival, Master Jean? It’ll be so amazing, and fun!”
Jean blinked a few times, an unsure frown on her face, before she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Klee, but we can’t just put on a whole new festival that we know nothing about, especially with such short notice. It’d likely be a complete disaster, and I’ve already got a lot on my plate as is.”
The smile on Klee’s face slowly vanished, her form appearing to deflate. “Oh…”
You looked between the Spark Knight and the Acting Grand Master, your own smile fading as you focused on Klee — her crushed enthusiasm didn’t sit well with you — before you spoke.
“...you know, it’s not impossible. You can still experience Christmas, Klee.”
Jean looked at you with confusion. “Your Grace…?”
“Can Klee really?” The Spark Knight perked up as she turned towards you, her eyes widening with hope again. “It sounds so fun! And I want all of my friends to experience Christmas too!”
“Your Grace, I don’t mean to doubt you, but…”
Jean placed a hand on her chest, looking at you with worry in her gaze.
“It really would be near-impossible to put on a festival like this.”
“It’s okay.” You chuckled, and shrugged your shoulders. “Christmas is actually just a one-day holiday. Sure, there’s usually a build-up of festive energy a few weeks before it, but it doesn’t actually last more than a single day. While Klee keeps calling it a festival, it’s not really one.”
“Oh…?”
“So, Klee, do you think this would work for you?” You looked down at the Spark Knight, a smile on your lips. “We take part in a few traditional Christmas activities together over the next couple of weeks, and then finish it all off with a big ol’ Christmas party at the end. What do you think?”
“Yay! That sounds perfect!” Klee smiled brightly. “Klee can’t wait! There’s so much to do!”
You turned your attention over towards Jean. “Would that be okay, Jean?”
“That… should be fine, yes.”
“Great!” You clapped your hands together as you looked at Klee. “Then let’s get started!”
- - - - -
There were crayons littering the table as Klee readied herself, the young girl in red practically vibrating with excitement where she sat, and she held a crayon tightly in one hand with a piece of paper laying in front of her. She looked up at you, her eyes wide and sparkling with pure joy.
“Okay, first things first… I suppose we need to actually figure out what to do.” You looked down at Klee with a smile. “And who to include. As fun as it would be to have the entire city celebrate Christmas this time, it’s not very realistic, so… we’ll need to figure out a smaller list of people.”
“Oh! All of Klee’s friends have to experience Christmas!” Klee began to draw, switching crayons when in need of a different color.  “Like Big Brother Albedo, and Master Jean, and Kaeya, and-”
Klee continued to list people as she drew on the paper, before she lifted it up to show it to you.
“Is this okay, Your Grace?”
It was a cluttered drawing, filled with Klee’s artistic interpretations of people you knew well: the playable characters of Mondstadt — your “vessels”, as they often described themselves to be.
You nodded. “That seems good. Those are the people that I’m also closest to in Mondstadt.”
Klee set the drawing aside, before she grabbed another piece of paper and one of the crayons closest to her on the table. She tilted her head to continue looking up at you with a bright smile.
“Okay, but… what do people do for Christmas, Your Grace?”
“People do a lot of things. There’s no one right way to celebrate Christmas, Klee.” You grabbed a piece of paper and a crayon for yourself. “I’m pretty sure that you’re already familiar with some winter activities that align with Christmas, such as playing in the snow and making sweets, eh?”
Klee nodded and turned her attention to her paper, beginning to draw some winter scenes.
You twirled the crayon in your fingers a bit, before you chuckled. “And, since you’re helping to bring the joy of Christmas to everyone, I suppose that would make you Santa’s Helper, Klee.”
“Santa’s… Helper?” Klee blinked, curiosity flooding her widened eyes. “What’s that?”
“Well… it’s a person who helps Santa Claus spread Christmas cheer. Santa’s only one person, and he has the big job of delivering gifts to all the good children of the world, so he relies on his helpers to make sure that everyone is having fun during the weeks leading up to the big day. As this is the first time Christmas is being celebrated in Teyvat, Santa’ll appreciate all of your help.”
Klee let a wide smile appear on her face. “Whoa! So Klee gets to help Santa?”
“Yeah! And I just know you’ll do a great job, Klee!”
“Oh! And Dodoco too, right? She can also be Santa’s Helper?”
“Of course! The more, the merrier!”
“Yay!”
The Spark Knight clapped her hands in delight before she continued drawing, and you found yourself glancing at her pointed ears, your smile softening, before you started to draw as well.
Ah.
How fitting.
- - - - -
It felt crowded, having so many people in one area.
The playable members of the Knights of Favonius — from the Acting Grand Master to the Knights’ maid — lined up before you inside of the Knights’ headquarters; most had a look of curiosity or confusion on their face, and some even had concern painting their facial features.
But Klee was bouncing on the balls of her feet, standing next to you with a big smile on her face.
“Oh, Klee?” Albedo looked at the Spark Knight as he noticed her behavior, the curiosity in his eyes growing just slightly as he did. “You seem to be in rather high spirits about something…”
Klee nodded. “Uh-huh! ‘Cause it’s time for “Secret Santa”!”
The concern present in the audience was fully replaced with confusion and curiosity.
“...”Secret… Santa”?”
“Yeah! It’s gonna be part one for celebrating Christmas!”
Noelle put a finger to her chin. “Oh? I’ve never heard of “Christmas” before…”
“If it’s something to celebrate-” Amber looked up at Eula. “-then it’s gotta be a holiday, right?”
Eula nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yes, it must be some kind of festivity.”
“So…” Mika placed a hand on his chest in relief. “...it’s not an emergency? Thank goodness…”
Lisa let out a hum as she looked over to Jean, who had a lack of surprise on her face unlike almost everyone else present. The librarian let her lips turn up into a subtle smile. “Well, you seem to have an idea of what Klee’s talking about, Jean. Mind enlightening the rest of us?”
Jean looked from the Knights towards Klee, and then looked at you. She looked a little stressed out — which was, unfortunately, normal — so you decided to explain the situation in her stead.
“Amber, Eula, you’re both right!” You smiled as you looked over all the Knights. “Christmas is a holiday from another world. I told Klee about it, she wanted to celebrate it, and so here we are!”
“A holiday from another world…” Kaeya had a look of interest in his eye. “How intriguing.”
Amber raised her hand, bringing attention to herself as you looked at her. “What’s it like, Your Grace? It’s probably different from any of the holidays that we have here in Mondstadt, isn’t it?”
“Eh…” You thought for a moment, putting a finger up to your chin. “...Christmas is mainly just a time to gather with loved ones to give gifts, eat good food, and… well, just spend time with one another. That’s the simplest way I can explain it, at least; does that make sense to everybody?”
Lisa chuckled, the smile on her lips softening. “Sounds like it shares quite a few similarities with some festivities we have. I think everyone here gets the picture that you set up, Your Grace.”
“Good! So, as Klee said earlier, she wanted to do something called “Secret Santa” with you guys.” You looked over the group of Knights, taking in all of their faces. “It’s an activity some workplaces do around Christmas, so having the Knights — well, the Knights that’re vessels — participate in this particular one seemed pretty obvious, especially when I told Klee about it.”
“What kind of activity is it, Your Grace?” Jean still looked a bit frazzled. “As much as I’d like to help Klee and you celebrate Christmas, having so many Knights occupied at once would be…”
“Don’t worry, Jean.” You sent a smile to her, hoping to reassure her worries and sooth her stress even a little. “This activity won’t take long. Basically, everyone participating will have to pull out a name from a hat — all the names of the participants will be written on slips of paper — and have to get them a present before the Christmas party that’ll take place in a couple of weeks. Oh, and you can’t tell anyone else the name that you pulled. That’s the “Secret” part of “Secret Santa”.”
“We…” Mika averted his gaze nervously. “...need to get a present for someone else?”
Sucrose fiddled with her fingers. “Based on a random drawing…?”
Amber smiled, her hands clenched in front of her. “Oh, that sounds like it could be fun!”
“Yes, but it could also be quite a difficult task-” Eula glanced around at the other Knights before looking at Amber. “-if you happen to draw someone that you’re not that well-acquainted with.”
“Well… I know that I just said you can’t tell anyone else who you pulled, but since I won’t be participating in the actual activity, you can come and ask me for gift ideas if you struggle with coming up with your own. I’ll be able to keep the secret.” You scanned the Knights with your eyes, a smile still on your lips. “So… is everybody in? You don’t have to participate if you don’t want to, but the more people that do, the more fun it’ll be. Just don’t feel pressured to, okay?”
The Knights glanced around at each other briefly before looking at you and Klee again.
Albedo nodded. “Very well. I see no reason not to, especially if Klee wants us to participate.”
Sucrose glanced at Albedo, before giving a short nod towards you as well. “O-Okay…”
“You can count on Eula and me to join too!” Amber smiled at Eula, the Spindrift Knight giving a slight nod, before she looked at you again. “It sounds like a lot of fun, so we couldn’t miss out!”
Lisa hummed. “...I have no objections either. This doesn’t seem like it’ll be too much work…”
Noelle straightened her posture when your gaze traveled over to her, her hands folded politely in front of her. “If that’s what you desire, then I’ll join as well. It… does sound like fun, I admit.”
“A-Ah…” Mika still looked a bit nervous as he nodded. “Alright, I can do it. I’ll try my best…”
“I suppose that if everyone else is joining, it’d be a downer if I didn’t.” Kaeya had a smile on his lips, a glimmer of amusement in his eye. “So you can include me as a participant, Your Grace.”
Jean let out a sigh. “...okay, I’m in too.”
“Yay!” Klee clapped in delight, smiling brightly. “All of Klee’s friends are joining!”
It took no time at all for the slips of paper bearing all of the Knights’ names to be created, all of which were then dumped into Klee’s hat, the Spark Knight having offered it to you happily. You tossed it like a salad for a few seconds, mixing them together, before handing it back to Klee.
“Alright, everyone. Make sure to choose one slip of paper, and keep the name a secret.”
The sight of Klee going around to each of the Knights, each one reaching a hand into her hat and grabbing a slip of paper, was heartwarming, in a way; the young girl in red was giggling as she received smile after smile from the Knights when she offered her hat to them, and the air in the room felt lighthearted as everyone received their targets for the activity. Some of the Knights were quite good at keeping who they got a secret — looking straight ahead with poker faces or a casual smile — while you noticed some of the others glancing around, likely at their targets.
“Everyone has a slip?” You saw everyone nod in response to you, a piece of paper in one of their hands that they put away safely. “Good. Then you’ve all got until the party to get a gift for whoever you pulled, and don’t be afraid to ask me for help if you need it. You’re all dismissed!”
Your attention was pulled away from Klee putting her hat back on by two figures you noticed approaching in your peripheral vision, and you looked up to see they were Mika and Sucrose.
“...need help, you two?”
Mika and Sucrose looked at each other for a moment before focusing on you.
“Yes, please, if you will.” Sucrose adjusted her glasses as she averted her eyes from you, her ears twitching a bit. “I’m afraid that I’m… not quite sure what to get for who I pulled, s-so…”
“Neither am I.” Mika rubbed the back of his head, also averting his gaze from you. “I’ve never really interacted too much with the person I pulled, and I’m afraid I might make a bad choice…”
“It’s okay.” You smiled and glanced between the both of them. “We’ve got plenty of time before the party, and I’ll make sure to help the both of you pick out good gifts for your respective pulls.”
Sucrose let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks so much, Your Grace. I’m sorry if this is a bother…”
“Yes, thank you very much.” Mika smiled slightly. “I hope that I’m not being a bother, either…”
You let out a chuckle, placing your hands on your hips. “Don’t worry, you two will never be a bother to me, and I offered to help with picking out gifts for a reason. It’s what I’m here for.”
The sensation of someone tugging on your sleeve caught your attention, and you looked down to see Klee looking up at you. You smiled at her before you looked at Mika and Sucrose again.
“I’ll meet up with you guys later to pick out gifts, okay? Just try and give it some thought by yourselves first, and then I’ll go over it individually with each of you in a few days’ time, okay?”
Mika and Sucrose nodded, looking a little relieved, as you let Klee drag you to the next activity.
- - - - -
“J-Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle… all the… way…?”
“It’s okay, Barbara. There’s no need to get so stressed.”
You were both amused yet concerned as you watched Barbara try to memorize the Christmas carols you told her about; you could see how tense her shoulders were, and could hear how her voice shook ever so slightly as she gave the carols a go, the melody enchanting yet unsteady.
“Your singing’s the best, Miss Barbara!” Klee sent a bright smile up towards the shining idol of Mondstadt, her eyes sparkling. “The Christmas carols sound so pretty when you sing them!”
“Ah, do they…? I feel like I’m singing them all wrong…”
“Don’t worry, you only just learned them.” You smiled at Barbara, trying to reassure her, even just a bit. “And caroling is going to be a group activity. You won’t have to sing them alone, ‘kay?”
Barbara blinked a few times, her eyes widened with surprise. “Huh?”
“Yeah! Like me, for example. I’ll be singing with you!”
“...h-huh?!”
That somehow seemed to be the wrong thing to say, as evidenced by how Barbara clasped her hands together, the nervous aura around her only growing instead of lessening. Her form began to tremble a bit where she stood, your smile faltering as her breathing began to quicken as well.
Klee tugged on the deaconess’s frock. “It’ll be okay, Miss Barbara! Klee will be singing too!”
Barbara snapped out of it as she looked down at Klee. “Oh, you’ll be singing as well?”
“Mmm-hmm!” Klee nodded, letting go of Barbara’s frock and instead placing her hands on her hips. “And all of our friends are going to too! So you don’t have to be scared, Miss Barbara!”
“...you make it seem so easy.” Barbara’s eyes flickered towards you for a second, before she closed her eyes and let out a breath. “I can’t help but feel nervous, but I’ll try to get it together.”
Klee giggled before turning towards you. “How many Christmas carols are you gonna teach us, Your Grace? Klee isn’t sure how many everyone’ll be able to learn before we have the party…”
The Spark Knight had a point that you thought about for a moment; there was only so much time before the Christmas party, and everyone had a limit to how many carols they would be able to memorize before then. It would be best for you to just stick to a few of the simpler ones this year, especially since you were the one who had to teach them to all of the party guests.
“About… three or four, I think.” You nodded to yourself, and refocused your gaze down on Klee, who was still smiling up at you. “I’ve taught you guys “Jingle Bells”, so… maybe I can also teach you guys “Deck the Halls”, “We Wish You a Merry Christmas”, and… also “The Twelve Days of Christmas”. I think that’d be a good selection for Mondstadt’s first official Christmas celebration.”
You looked over at Barbara, who appeared to be a little calmer now as she did a few breathing exercises. “They’re all on the simple and repetitive side, so learning them should be very easy.”
“That sounds fine.” Barbara nodded, determination in her gaze. “I’ll do my best, Your Grace.”
Klee bounced on the balls of her feet happily, her hands raised. “Yeah, we’ll do our best!”
“Ah, keep your voice down, Klee.” You chuckled. “We’re outside, but still near the Church.”
“O-Oh, right, hehe.”
- - - - -
The kitchen smelled like heaven, the countertop covered in several types of Christmas goodies of varying quality; it was like a dessert buffet with all kinds of cookies, cakes, candies, and more.
“Thanks again for helping us, Noelle.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure, Your Grace.”
Klee overlooked the counter from the step-stool that she stood on, an excited glimmer in her eyes. “Wow…! There’s so many treats! Do people really get to have all of this for Christmas?”
“Of course!” You picked up a chocolate chip cookie, which was still warm. “Sweets are a huge part of Christmas, like leaving out milk and cookies for Santa on the night before Christmas.”
“Is that like sharing wine with Barbatos during Weinlesefest?”
You paused for a moment, taking a bite of the cookie in your hand before you shrugged, a smile on your face. “Yeah, I guess it’s similar to that. Santa loves cookies like Barbatos loves wine.”
“Your Grace, will this be satisfactory?” Noelle’s soft voice guided your attention back over to her, her posture being straightened just slightly when your gaze landed on her form. Her hands were politely folded in front of her, bringing some of your focus to her apron, which was unsurprisingly as clean as it had been at the start of this baking session. “I can continue baking if you’d like.”
“No, no… this’ll be good for now. I just wanted Klee to see what some Christmas goodies were like.” You finished the chocolate chip cookie in your hand, and wiped your hands on your apron, dusting off some of the flour that was on it. “But, since we’ll definitely need these sorts of treats at the Christmas party later this month, would you be up to make more when the time comes?”
“Anything for you, Your Grace.”
Noelle gave a small bow, before she turned her attention to cleaning the kitchen.
“Hey, Klee… do you think we should build gingerbread houses at the party?”
“They make houses out of gingerbread for Christmas?” Klee looked up at you with wide eyes, her mouth open in awe. “Wow, that must take a lot of gingerbread. Do people live in them?”
You held a hand up to your mouth, stifling a laugh and taking a moment to compose yourself before you shook your head. “No, Klee, they don’t. Gingerbread houses are small, kind of like dollhouses, and decorated with icing and candy. Building them is half of the fun, and then eating them afterwards is the other half of the fun. Oh, showing off your house to others is also fun…!”
Klee turned to look at the wide array of handmade candies on the counter, clearly contemplating how she could use them as decorations. Her focus was only broken when you began picking up plates of the goodies you made with Noelle, her gaze moving to the smile you kept on your face.
“Come on, Klee. Let’s clean up. We don’t want to make Noelle do all the work, right?”
“Okay!”
“H-Huh? Ah, Your Grace! That’s not necessary!”
- - - - -
“So, you’re saying that I’m supposed to write a letter to some strange old man that I don’t even know and just… get what I want?” Diona scoffed, placing her hands on her hips and turning her head away. “That sounds totally ridiculous, like some scam that a boozehound would fall for.”
“Aw… no, it’s really true!” Klee clenched her hands in front of her chest. “Their Grace said so!”
Diona looked at you from the corner of her eye for a moment, before she let out a “hmph”, and turned her head to face you and Klee. “Well… I guess that Their Grace wouldn’t lie, so… fine.”
The sounds of cats lazing about and cards being shuffled surrounded you and the two children as your group settled at one of the tables in the Cat’s Tail, though it was considerably less lively than normal due to it being around noon. Klee and Diona both had paper and crayons sitting in front of them, as well as an envelope for each of them to seal their letter when they were done.
“So…” Diona furrowed her eyebrows. “...what exactly are we supposed to do?”
You looked between the two young girls, chuckling with a smile on your lips. “Writing a letter to Santa is easy. All you have to do is write down what you want; just… list it all out on the paper.”
“And this “Santa” guy will make it happen?”
“...eh, try to keep it small-scale, Diona. Santa gives gifts, he doesn’t destroy anything.”
Diona grumbled to herself, her tail thumping against the cushion of her seat in annoyance, but she eventually started to write on the paper in front of her. The Spark Knight also got to work on her own letter, filling her paper with color as she scribbled out what she wanted for Christmas.
And, after they were done, they folded their letters and put them into their envelopes.
“Alright, now you just need to address them to the North Pole.”
Diona and Klee looked at you, curiosity in their eyes, before Diona raised an eyebrow.
“...to where?”
“The North Pole. That’s where Santa Claus lives, and where his workshop is located.”
Klee began to write the address on her envelope — simply “The North Pole”, in big bold letters — while Diona continued to stare at you, an unconvinced frown making its way onto her face.
“How exactly are these gonna get to Santa, anyway? He’s in a completely different world.”
“I’ll deliver them myself.” You carefully took Klee’s letter once she handed it to you, your fingers clasped around the envelope. “No postal service in Teyvat could get there, but I can handle it.”
“...okay.” Diona scribbled on her envelope and handed it to you. “But I still have my doubts.”
You held the two letters carefully, and chuckled again as you looked between the two kids.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Santa will deliver!”
- - - - -
The gloves on your hands did little to keep out the cold, already covered in a layer of snow as you patted the icy substance thoroughly in your quest to form the base of your future snowman.
Dragonspine was a scary place — you would never traverse it alone in your current state — but the scenery at its edges was just the right amount of “winter wonderland” for you, and the sound of the younger Mondstadtian characters in the surrounding area only bettered that atmosphere.
“Your Grace, you should be careful. Sheer cold can be harmful, even to you.”
Albedo was standing by your side, completely unfazed by the cold; this place was pretty much his natural habitat at this point. His voice held slight concern, though his face remained calm.
“Huh? Nonsense, I’m fine. I ate some goulash before coming here; it’ll keep me warm.”
“You’re shivering, Your Grace.”
“...okay, fine.”
You moved over to the small fire that was built nearby, noticing that Bennett and Fischl were already there; the former was completely drenched and shivering as he huddled close to the fire, while the latter and her night raven familiar were completely fine. You reached your hands out to the fire to warm yourself, your fingers feeling a bit better, and looked over at Bennett.
“What happened to you?”
“Ah…” Bennett smiled, a hint of embarrassment laced within it. “Well… I just, uh…”
“He who has been born the most unfortunate suffered a great moment of slither-” Fischl caught your attention, her tone of voice confident. “-and was plunged into the beck of this biting berg.”
You stared at Fischl for a moment before shifting your gaze over to Oz.
“...the unlucky fellow had slipped on the snow and fell into the river.”
“Oh…!” You raised a hand to your mouth, covering the growing smile on your lips as you stifled a laugh. “Yeah… I guess your bad luck would spring up like that. Are you having fun, though?”
“Huh?” The adventurer tilted his head. “I… guess so?”
“Then that’s all that matters!”
Your attention shifted to Klee and Razor when you noticed them approaching the fire, sticks and stones in their arms. You even spotted some pinecones sitting within Razor’s stash of materials.
“We got the things for the snowman, Your Grace!” Klee bounced with each step, only coming to a stop in front of you. Her feet slid a bit from the snow. “And I found this really cool stick! Look!”
Klee adjusted the items in her arms, before holding up a stick with one hand.
You had to admit: it was a really cool stick.
“This good?” Razor held out his stash of materials to you, allowing you to look over all of it; he had a lot more in his arms than Klee did. “We hunt for what you said, and… this is what we find.”
“Of course!” You nodded, looking up at Razor with a smile. “You both did great!”
“Ah… good.”
Razor looked pleased with your praise; if he had a tail, it would definitely be wagging right now.
With a supply of materials now at your disposal, you began to work with the others to decorate the snowman; the base was all your doing, so you stepped back to let the others take the lead.
“Ore of the darkest night shall make quite a pair of eyes, would it not, my dear companion?”
“Klee’s stick can make a good arm! Oh, it’s hard to reach…”
“Let me, Klee. And this other stick can complete the pair.”
“I… do like this?”
“A pinecone for the nose? Neat! Gah, the rocks for the buttons keep slipping out of my fingers.”
The smile on your face grew as you watched the others work together to form a masterpiece.
“Wow… it looks amazing, everyone!”
It was a jumbled mess, but it was a real product of togetherness; each part was placed on by a different person to make a whole creation — small chunks of iron for the eyes, a pinecone as a nose, sticks for the arms, and rocks for the buttons. It was a shame that you didn’t think to bring any clothes for the snowman to wear, though, but that didn’t hinder the final masterpiece at all.
You and the others took in your combined creation in silent glory for a bit, and then you spoke.
“...so, has everybody had enough snow for today?”
There was a resounding “yes” from the group, and you shifted your gaze over to take note of their current conditions: Bennett had icicles starting to form on his damp clothes, Razor kept his arms close to his body as he shivered like a wolf pup, Fischl denied feeling cold — although Oz pointed out that she had complained earlier about not bringing warmer clothing to this outing — and Klee mentioned that the snow dampened the effect of her bombs. Albedo just appeared to be ready to go whenever everyone else was; he was clearly the one least affected by the cold.
“Then let’s head back to the city for some hot cocoa! Who wants whipped cream and sprinkles?”
“Oh! Oh! Klee does!”
- - - - -
“I’ll take a Gray Valley Sunset, Master Diluc!”
“You… do not need to address me as “Master”, Your Grace…”
“Aw, why not? Everybody else does!”
You planted yourself onto one of the barstools as you watched Diluc get to work behind the counter, the tavern being just as lively as it was most nights; luckily, most of the Angel’s Share patrons were too drunk to pay any attention to you, granting you a rare moment to just relax.
“My, you look rather tired, Your Grace.” Kaeya was sitting on a barstool next to you, leaning on his elbow. “I assume Klee has been dragging you around in her excitement this past week?”
“Yep!” You nodded, immediately grabbing your drink when Diluc placed it in front of you on the counter. “But I don’t regret telling her about Christmas. I’ve been having a lot of fun with all of it.”
The barstool on your other side squeaked as someone sat upon it, and you noticed a bard clad in green leaning into your peripheral vision, a smile set on his lips and a twinkle within his eyes.
“Oh? “Christmas”? What might that be, Your Grace?”
“A holiday from another world. I told Klee about it, and she’s been absolutely obsessed.”
“Ah, so that’s what you’ve been doing these past few days.” Rosaria was sitting on the other side of Kaeya, an alcoholic beverage already securely in her hand. Her expression was set in her usual disinterested frown, though the way she kept her eyes on you showed otherwise. “I heard that Barbara almost passed out when you requested her to sing… “Christmas carols”?”
You let out a short nervous laugh, before starting to drink your juice; it was cold and sweet.
“Oho?” Venti’s interest peaked as he leaned closer to you, the twinkle in his eyes having grown at the mere mention of your musical exploits. “If you need someone to sing for you, Your Grace, you’ve got the three-time winner of the “Most Popular Bard of Mondstadt'” title at your service.”
“If you want to carol with us, you’re totally free to, Venti!” You smiled at the bard before letting out a sigh, and you set your drink on the counter. “But, even though it’s been fun, we’ve still got to tackle the issue of preparing the Christmas party. Klee’s been looking forward to it since day one of our festivities, but I’m not sure where to begin with it. We’d need a place big enough for all of the guests, and we’d need to decorate it. Then there’s the food too. It'll be a lot of work.”
“So you need a place for the party?” Kaeya took a hold of his own drink, bringing the cup up to his mouth. “I’m sure the Knights would let you use their headquarters for the party, no problem.”
“The Knights of Favonius Headquarters…?” You thought for a moment, before you shook your head. “No, that wouldn’t work. Plus, I’d feel like it’d be… distracting to the Knights not invited.”
Rosaria sipped her drink. “Perhaps the Church, then? I doubt the Sisters would refuse you.”
“Absolutely not.” You hardly hesitated as you answered, and shook your head again. “The idea of having a Christmas party in the Favonius Cathedral… doesn’t exactly feel all that right to me.”
“Agreed. The Church is a bit too serious a location for such an occasion.” Venti nodded, placing his empty cup on the counter; if you were keeping count correctly, he had just downed his fourth drink. “I’d say this tavern is home to a much more suitable atmosphere for a joyous celebration!”
“...well, while Angel’s Share would be able to serve as a good space for the party-” You let your gaze wander around the tavern, taking in the sight of the many customers already drunk at their tables. “-it’s not really the type of place for a Christmas party to be held. I mean, maybe it would work if it was an adult-only event, but this party is gonna have people of all ages in attendance.”
The sound of Diluc clearing his throat caught your attention, and you looked towards him.
“Your Grace… if you’d so like, you may use Dawn Winery’s manor for your party.”
You perked up as you listened to Diluc, your lips turning up into a bright smile.
“Oh, that’ll be perfect! I love you, Master Diluc!”
The sound of glass shattering rang out from behind the counter, the remains of a glass on the floor as alcohol seeped into the wood. Diluc stood by the mess, a cleaning rag held in one hand and emptiness in the other; the warm tavern lights made you uncertain of the flush on his face.
“A-Ah! I’m sorry, Master Diluc!”
You continued to apologize to Diluc as he bent down to clean up the broken glass, his face now hidden by his bangs as he kept his head tilted down. Kaeya was trying — and failing — to hold back a chuckle, and Rosaria just silently sipped on her drink, her gaze averted from everything.
Venti let out a whine, his hand tightly gripping your sleeve as he tugged it. “Oh, that’s just not fair, Your Grace. You can’t say something like that without blessing me with such words too…”
“I-I just got excited by what Diluc said!” You glanced at Venti briefly, your eyes widened, before you looked at Diluc again, your face warm. “It’s just… thanks for letting me use the manor…?”
“It’s fine, Your Grace.”
Diluc stood up after he finished cleaning, his head turned away from you as if to allow him to continue hiding his face; even so, it was still obvious to you that he must still be embarrassed.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but just be more careful next time.”
You let out a relieved sigh and nodded, smiling at him.
“Will do, Master Diluc!”
- - - - -
You couldn’t help but take in a deep breath as the pine tree was set up in the manor, your hands on your hips as your chest expanded. You took a moment before you finally released the breath.
“Ah, the sweet smell of nature…”
It was a few days before the Christmas party was scheduled to take place, and you were doing some early decorating — namely, the big stuff that couldn’t wait until just before the big event.
And that included the tree.
“So…” You looked over at Diluc, who stood beside you. “I’m assuming that there aren’t already ornaments available to decorate with, but we can make do. Oh! Maybe we could have everyone make ornaments at the party and then decorate the tree together? That’d be super festive! But, in the meantime, we could at least put some popcorn on it right now to start, so it isn’t just bare.”
You were met with nothing but silence as Diluc looked from the tree to you.
“People put… popcorn… on trees for Christmas?”
“Wow! It’s so tall!”
Klee ran up to the tree, her head tilted all the way back as she looked up at it.
“Of course! The bigger, the better!” You walked up to Klee and gently nudged the Spark Knight away from the tree. “We’ll have to keep any and all fire hazards away from it, though. Okay?”
“Okay! Klee will be super careful!”
You looked back at Diluc. “Thanks again for letting us have the party here. It’s really so perfect!”
“It’s no problem, Your Grace. Just let me know if you need anything else.”
You felt as if you were a kid again as you ran around with Klee and got things set up, sharing the experience of choosing what should go where and what looked best with the young girl in red. You even decorated some of the exterior of the manor, not just the interior, though, due to the size of the building, you and Klee could only really work with the entrance outside the door.
In lieu of strings of Christmas lights, lanterns and Crystalflies were used to light up the desired area. The lanterns hung up on the wall, blending into the natural look of the manor — when the daylight faded, they would definitely stand out more — and the Crystalflies were caught in the vineyard, just to be gently guided to rest on the poles near the front door, their wings fluttering.
“...we’ll probably need to guide these little guys back here just before the party.” You watched as the Crystalflies fluttered their wings again, unable to stay still for long where you placed them. “I don’t think they’ll just… stay here for the next few days. They’re itching to fly again, that’s clear.”
There was a Crystalfly resting on Klee’s cap, only flying away as she tilted her head up.
“Do you think we’ll be able to find them again?”
You nodded. “Of course we will! These Crystalflies like Dawn Winery as much as the people of Mondstadt do. You can always find them around here somewhere, fluttering about the grapes.”
The Crystalflies resting on the wooden poles flew off into the vineyard, one by one, as you and Klee continued decorating. You wrapped ribbons of different colors — red, green, and white — around the poles, and draped some down from the balcony above, trying to make it coherent.
“...this place definitely says, “there’s a party here”, at least.”
“It looks great! And it’s so pretty!” Klee bounced on the balls of her feet as she looked up at the ribbons, before she looked at you. “Is there anything else to do before the party, Your Grace?”
You thought for a moment.
“Well… I think we’ve done everything we can right now. The tree’s main decorations can wait until the party, and the popcorn will be prepared tomorrow, but, besides that, everything else is ready. The manor’s staff are helping to take care of the food — and being compensated for their time by Diluc, of course — and Noelle will take care of the desserts for the party later. We’ll help her with that when the time comes, but, for now, we’re done. Why, still want to decorate more?”
Klee put a finger to her chin, before she began walking around to inspect the work you and her had done. The Spark Knight took in the sight of all the decorations you had put up, everything in the interior and the exterior of the manor, and her eyes sparkled as her gaze scanned over all of it. The decorations were a bit generic to be honest, only the presence of the — currently bare — pine tree making it clear that Christmas was what was being celebrated, but it was a good effort.
You worked with what you had, and during the party, it was sure to come together fully.
“Klee thinks it’s perfect, Your Grace! …but, um… maybe we could hang up more ribbons?”
Yeah.
This would all come together nicely.
- - - - -
“I’m so sorry I’m late! I had some trouble getting here…”
Bennett had an embarrassed look on his face, his form slumped over as he stood in front of you. His hair was ruffled up, some sticks and leaves poking out, and his clothes were slightly burnt, which made the water dripping off of him to form a puddle under him more noteworthy.
You smiled slightly at him. “I can see that… but, don’t worry, you’re not late at all.”
“H-Huh?”
“Ah, the man cursed with misfortune has arrived before the Prinzessin?”
You and Bennett turned to look at Fischl as she approached, Oz and Mona accompanying her.
“Hmph, this is truly a most unexpected eventuality, though not one unwelcome.”
Mona looked at Bennett with interest, her gaze scanning everything from his singed clothing to the water at his feet. “I must admit, it’s very unusual. I’d say you had a rare stroke of luck, but…”
“...what?”
Bennett looked between them and you, before rubbing the back of his head with his hand.
“I’m so confused… my invitation said that the party started an hour ago.”
The adventurer dug through his pockets until he eventually pulled out his invitation; the paper was completely drenched, though the ink was just legible enough to still be able to be read.
“But our invitations say the party will start soon.” Mona pulled out her own invitation, and took Bennett’s to compare the times. “See? Your invitation shows it starting a whole hour early.”
Bennett took his invitation back. “That doesn’t make any sense, I…”
You gained a slight sense of pressure as everyone turned to look at you. “Oh… I put an earlier time on Bennett’s invitation to account for his bad luck. You know… so he’d get here on time.”
There was a slight pause, everyone staring at you as you stared back at them.
And then Bennett let out a groan.
“Ugh, that’s so embarrassing…!”
“But it’s also quite smart.” Mona smiled at the unlucky adventurer. “You’d likely be suffering out in the wilderness right now if Their Grace kept the correct time on your invitation, wouldn’t you?”
“...y-yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Hey, I’m just glad you’re here on time, Benny.” You smiled and gestured towards the manor’s entrance. “Why don’t you all head on inside? There’s some refreshments set out already, and it seems like everyone else will be arriving soon enough. I’ll be out here greeting them, of course.”
Fischl looked at Bennett, whose embarrassment was still cooling off. “Let us continue forward, accursed companion. It would be wise to preen thyself before the rest of the due guests arrive.”
“Right.”
The two members of the Adventurer’s Guild headed inside the manor with Oz following behind them closely, the familiar taking care when he flew past the ribbons that adorned the entrance.
“Um, Your Grace?” Mona caught your attention, a hesitant look in her eyes. “If there… happens to be any… leftovers at the end of the party, will the guests be permitted to take some home?”
“You can take as much as you can carry.”
“Oh, thank you ever so much, Your Grace!”
- - - - -
“A party held at Dawn Winery… with no alcohol? You’re so cruel, Your Grace.”
Venti had slight disbelief on his face, even with his lips turned up into a smile, while Diona had hers turned up into a smug grin, her hands on her hips in triumph as she stood next to the bard.
“Well, I think Their Grace is only showing how great They are by keeping that stuff away. Why do you boozehounds always need alcohol to have a good time, anyway? It’s funner without it!”
“Diona’s right. At least, when it comes to this occasion.”
The bartender let out a chuckle at your approval, her smug grin growing towards the bard.
“Besides, this’ll be the first Christmas you’ll experience. You should experience it sober.”
“...not even a drop, Your Grace?”
“You’re gonna have to go dry tonight, Venti.”
Diona walked into the manor with a proud gait, her tail and head held up to the sky, as Venti let out a whine, his shoulders dropping. He only lasted like that for a second before he perked up.
“Alright, Your Grace. I suppose going through a party without wine won’t be so bad…”
“Oh, is this a “no alcohol” kind of festivity?”
You turned to see Kaeya making his way up the path leading to the manor, a trio of his fellow knights — Albedo, Klee, and Sucrose — walking right behind him until they stopped near you.
“Yep. There’s non-alcoholic apple cider and grape juice instead.” Your gaze wandered down to the wrapped gifts in each of the Knights’ arms. “You can go and put the presents under the tree for later. The gift-giving will happen after everyone arrives and gets settled into the jolly vibes.”
Venti eyed the gifts. “Oh-ho? I wasn’t aware that there’d be presents at this party.”
“It’s for “Secret Santa”!” Klee held her gift up for Venti to see. “All the Knights are doing it!”
“And, don’t worry, all the non-Knights will also be getting gifts too-” You put a hand to your chest and smiled. “-courtesy of me. It wouldn’t be fair for some to get presents here and others to not.”
Sucrose adjusted the wrapped box in her arms. “W-Wow…”
Albedo hummed. “A gift from the Divine Creator would be quite an honor. I’m almost jealous…”
“Oh, there’s no reason to feel that way.” You shook your head slightly at him, the smile on your lips softening. “All the gifts you’ll find under the tree are labeled from “Santa”, not me, so nobody is really getting a gift from the “Divine Creator”, okay? Now get on inside and enjoy yourselves.”
- - - - -
There were a few more greetings you got through — Barbara and Rosaria who arrived together, and Razor who arrived alone — before the last guests arrived: the other invited members of the Knights of Favonius — sans Noelle, who arrived hours before the party began to help prepare.
“I hope you’re all feeling merry!” You greeted them at the entrance to the manor, a smile still on your lips. “Because with all of you here, the party can finally start! Oh, it’s gonna be so fun…!”
“Apologies for taking so long, Your Grace.” Jean shifted the presents she carried in her arms, putting a hand to her chest. “I had some last minute duties that I had to attend to before being able to leave for the evening, due to so many of the Knights having to attend this party tonight.”
“It’s fine, no biggie.” You waved Jean’s concerns off. “I’m just glad you’re all here at all!”
Amber held up the wrapped gift she was holding to bring attention to it. “And we brought our “Secret Santa” gifts with us. Is there someplace that we should put them for now, Your Grace?”
“Under the tree.”
“Under the…” Eula raised an eyebrow in question. “...tree?”
You nodded. “There’s a pine tree set up inside; it’s called a “Christmas tree”. You put gifts under it until it’s time to hand them out and open them. It’s a classic Christmas tradition, a real staple.”
“Oh my, how quaint.” Lisa didn’t have a gift in her hand, which explained why Jean was carrying two in her arms. “Everything you say about Christmas just makes it more and more interesting.”
“I’m glad!”
Jean, Lisa, Amber, and Eula went inside at your gesture, with Mika tailing them.
Mika looked at you with a bashful smile, his present held carefully in his arms, and he glanced between you and it before his gaze settled on it. “T-Thanks again, for helping me, Your Grace.”
“Of course.” You lightly patted Mika on the back. “Now, come on. Let’s join the others.”
- - - - -
‘Twas the night of the party And all through the manor, The atmosphere was hearty And it was quite banner.
…and that was enough rhyming for now.
Though it took everyone a quick moment to familiarize themselves with what a Christmas party was like, it didn’t take long for the party to really start. Klee’s enthusiasm was a driving force for everyone else’s, especially anyone who might still have been hesitant about the whole thing.
The tree was finally decorated aside from strings of popcorn, the ornaments the product of a group activity where you helped everyone make their own; the branches were filled to the brim with unique creations that would last to the next time that a tree would need to be decorated.
You could hardly compliment Noelle and the manor’s staff enough for all their work on the food, and neither could anyone else. You swore Noelle would faint from how red her face had gotten from the praise, the Knights’ maid continuing to be modest about all the effort she had put in.
The various gingerbread houses were fun to see; everyone had varying ideas on what it meant to build a gingerbread house — some went with a more “normal” appearance with their designs, while others took more creative liberties with their edible materials. Diona had even based her’s on her own house, with little gingerbread people of herself and her dad put on the frosting lawn.
And then caroling was an experience.
Barbara and Klee helped you teach everyone else the carols you had picked out. Venti picked them up quickly — which you expected — and Rosaria opted out of caroling altogether — which you also expected. Diluc also preferred not to sing, as did Mika and Sucrose, but everyone else laughed their way through the carols, the sound of their voices together being not too shabby.
The most anticipated event of the party, the gift exchange, happened when everyone was finally settled in, and the Knights went around to give each other their gifts. The anonymous part of the identities of the givers fell apart during that part, the receivers gaining surprise at learning about who had served as their Secret Santa alongside the gifts themselves, though the biggest of the surprises had to be Mika’s and Sucrose’s when they realized that they were each other’s Santa.
The remaining party guests got a gift handpicked by you.
You kept your mouth shut as they all tried to figure out who had actually gotten them the gift — Kaeya, Albedo, Klee, Sucrose, and Venti also keeping quiet about it for you — and just let them question each other. The joy among the confusion was what really made it feel special to you.
When the gift-giving came to a close, you surprised the younger Mondstadtians with stockings to hang over the fireplace. Klee, Diona, Razor, and Fischl each got to put up their own stocking, but you helped Bennett with his, as having it accidentally get caught on fire would be a downer.
You still had extras, though… just in case.
And when the sun began to set in the distance, the party soon came to a quiet end… kind of.
“We gotta leave milk and cookies out for Santa.” Klee guided the other younger characters to the table that had been set up near the fireplace, where they set down a plate of cookies and a glass of milk upon the wooden surface. “It’s sorta like sharing wine with the Anemo Archon.”
“And then our hosiery hung above the embers shall be filled with his largesse on the morrow?”
“Yep!” Klee nodded towards Fischl, a smile on her face. “That’s what Their Grace told Klee.”
“But it won’t happen unless you’re all asleep.” You looked between the five youngsters. “Santa doesn’t come when you’re awake. He only comes to leave presents in the middle of the night.”
Diona’s tail flicked behind her. “That sounds kind of fishy, but if that’s what you say, then okay.”
“So…” Razor thought for a moment. “...Razor and friends go to sleep now?”
“That should be easy.” Bennett rubbed the back of his head before he stretched his arms out above his head, a smile on his face. “It’s been pretty exciting all day, so I’m a bit tuckered out.”
“Diluc’s been kind enough to have prepared rooms for you guys tonight.” You gestured towards the staircase and towards the second floor of the manor. “So feel free to get settled in, okay?”
“Yay!” Klee clapped her hands together. “Let’s go to sleep so Santa will come!”
You watched as the younger characters headed upstairs, disappearing from your sight, before you turned your attention to the other guests. The adults were all getting ready to leave, either gathering up the presents that they had gotten or grabbing leftovers to take home with them.
“I’d say have a safe trip, but I’m sure your group is the safest it could possibly be.”
The characters not staying at the manor — meaning everyone but the youngsters who were staying the night, Diluc who lived here, and Noelle who was staying to help clean up — were going to be heading back to the city, the majority of the group being comprised of vessels that were members of the Knights of Favonius. You knew anybody would feel safe with all of them.
Jean looked at you, her eyes tired despite her smile. “Apologies for not staying for longer.”
“It’s okay. I know you guys can’t just all be away from the city for long at the same time.”
“But we should definitely do this again sometime!” Amber had a smile on her face, still full of energy despite how late it was. “It was so much fun, Your Grace! This holiday was a blast!”
“I agree.” Eula held both her and Amber’s gifts in her arms. “It was quite the get-together.”
You waved to the group as you watched them leave the manor and start their journey towards the city, the Knights forming the edges of the group. Barbara was within the protective circle of the group with Mona right by her side, the astrologist carrying much more than she arrived with in terms of food. The only one not in the group was Rosaria, who left a bit earlier on her own.
The group soon vanished into the dark of night, the manor now much quieter than before.
You let out a small sigh as Venti approached you, and briefly glanced at Noelle and Diluc as they — and the manor’s staff — got busy cleaning up the party before focusing on the bard.
“Well, Your Grace, I’d say this party of yours was a huge success!”
“I’m glad it was!” You gestured for Venti to follow you. “Now, mind helping me fill the stockings?”
“Oh?” Venti raised an eyebrow as he followed you over to the fireplace, an interested glimmer in his eyes. “I thought Santa was supposed to be the one to fill those once everyone was asleep?”
“Spoiler alert: Santa is more of an… idea, rather than a real person. Don’t tell the kids, though.”
“So, that’s how it is, huh…?”
Noelle handed you the bag of prepared goodies as she passed by, the action of it exchanging hands seeming like more of an instinct as she focused on gathering discarded wrapping paper.
The bag was like a smaller version of Santa’s bags in your eyes, and you sifted through it to begin sorting the items into each stocking, taking great care to divide everything in it equally.
“Of course. The magic of Christmas is all about children’s hopes and beliefs… oh!”
You grabbed a cookie from the plate near the fireplace and stuffed it into Venti’s mouth.
“Here, eat a few. It’s “proof” that Santa visited.”
Venti grabbed the cookie out of his mouth, coughing a bit before he chuckled. “Thank you for this honor, Your Grace. Though you could be a bit more gentle when feeding me, you know.”
“Less talking, more eating, Venti.”
It didn’t take you too long to fill the stockings with treats and items tailored to each youngster’s interests, and along with the Christmas tree, the stuffed stockings hung over the fireplace made the perfect little holiday scene, something that felt so foreign in this world yet so familiar to you.
So the party was done, with the kids into bed, And the Creator’s smile was on their face, spread. For a spoken last joy, with the bard to their right— “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
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genshin-scenarios · 5 months
Text
android au - detective droids
Summary: In a modern-futuristic world, it is possible to create androids that are so advanced, they’re more or less human. There will be 5 android au posts total, each focusing on a different group! 
The Sumeru collection was created specially for detective and investigation workplaces.
Characters: Tighnari, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Cyno
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Tighnari specializes in evidence collection on sites and processes them in the lab. You have no idea why they made him so pretty (don’t the designers know that it might distract you from work?), but paired with his underlying snark and the little smiles he only sends to you, you’re quite sure you have a favorite droid to visit during your breaks.
As a field agent, you’re no stranger to minor injuries and a few scrapes here and there, but Tighnari always chides you about being more careful. He often ends up treating you and patching up the androids when nurses weren’t around, tail swishing absentmindedly as he focuses on applying salves to your skin. 
Tighnari is rather careful when it comes to you - or perhaps more gentle might be the better word, considering how he just pushes the others around, giving them a ‘told you so’ while rolling his eyes. You don’t realize this, but his gaze always drifts to you at these times, ears picking up on the little giggle that escapes your lips.
His ears and tail increase his sensitivity to his surroundings, meaning Tighnari notices details about a crime scene that regular people wouldn’t. The same goes for changes in his co-workers, be it burnt-out employees or ones that seem to have their loyalties switched… he never admits it, but Tighnari sends this information to Cyno or Alhaitham if he suspects it might bring harm to the agency, in terms of catching double-agents.
Once, the final straw was when he saw said double-agent trying to approach you. You were on a rather sensitive case and had tight lips, which led to them trying to attach a bugging device on your attire. Thankfully, Tighnari was quick to remove it, telling you that there was dust on your coat.
…Level headed as he is, Tighnari is quite protective of those he considers his close friends. He’s quite popular around the workplace anyways, so he does use this to keep tabs on people. No one said his work ended with just forensics, right?
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A data collection droid, Alhaitham is often known as a ‘witness’ of sorts that records everything he deems useful to a case. Due to his personality however, sometimes he just stands there and judges people, silently making comprehensive notes about their speech, body language, and any suspicions he may have.
These transcripts then go to you. Alhaitham highlights what is most relevant and enjoys seeing what you think before sharing his own theories. Some people say that the both of you sound like masterminds cooking up a concerning plan in the office, catching snippets of your conversation that sound like: 
‘you did say he bought copious amounts of gasoline…’ ‘so it’s legal to blow up the factory?’ ‘i’ll check through my database, but i’m sure we can find a loophole’
People that aren’t close to Alhaitham might think he’s stoic and a stickler for the rules, but you’re more than aware of the chaotic-neutral methods he has a penchant for. In a sense, data collection really suited Alhaitham, who enjoyed seeing people squirm at the idea that he could psychoanalyze their deepest darkest thoughts. 
As much of a dramatic he is, Alhaitham doesn’t tolerate uncooperative people or those that lash out against your team. Once, you were interviewing people for a case when an aggressive bystander attempted to attack you, only for Alhaitham to surprise everyone by knocking him out with one blow.
He says he controlled his strength, so there wouldn’t be any lasting injuries… but suffice to say the rest of your interviewees were very obedient after that.
Alhaitham also enjoys annoying (pissing off) certain people as a way to get ‘extra data’. You let it slide only because you’re aware he always has a reason for his actions. 
At one point you asked Alhaitham why he manages to get along well with you, despite usually keeping to himself at the office. He merely shrugs, saying that it’s only natural to have good relations with someone he’s often partnered with.
That, and… if he was with you, he wouldn’t be accused of slacking off.
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Kaveh often works as an informant or undercover agent. His job relies more on his ability to pass off as a human, and his empathetic nature helps with that whenever he’s on the field. You’re his partner on these missions, either watching from the hidden cameras in his system or working by his side. 
Kaveh does get a little annoyed however if people attempt to flirt with you during these, even if you were letting them because it was a way to gain information. He reasons that because he’s an android, he should do those tasks instead - Kaveh doesn’t want to burden you with that kind of work if possible. You’re the same; you may not be a saint, but it’s easy to want to treat Kaveh well.
Kaveh also has a legendary reputation as an escape artist. He claims it was just a stroke of luck, but he undoubtedly is good at navigating through even the most fortified buildings and picking the best spots to place explosives to knock it down.
He often gets embarrassed when people praise his skill, but only you’re aware of the work that Kaveh puts in, memorizing blueprints and guessing where hidden floors may be. Seeing him get the recognition he deserves always fills you with pride.
Once, you were on a mission alone and trapped within the workings of an underground fortress. To say that Kaveh appearing out of nowhere felt like an angel came to save you wouldn’t be too far off. With worry plastered on his face as he checked if you were alright, he quickly led you through the building with the distractions he had in place. Kaveh explains that once he heard backup was needed at your location, he’d quickly volunteered himself for the task.
‘Ah… not that I’m expecting your thanks for anything like that! …Um, I’m about to deactivate the lights, so could you hold onto my hand? I’ll lead us to the exit.’
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Cyno is an android designed for combat. Oftentimes he’s dispatched as a hitman or to guard important places and people. This time around, he’s been assigned to protect you.
Seeing as you’re being targeted by an unknown mastermind, the agency appointed Cyno to stay with you 24/7. He tries his best to simply be a ‘shadow’ at first so that you wouldn’t have to adjust your lifestyle for him, but after a while you told Cyno that you didn’t mind.
‘After all, I can just treat it as having a bodyguard or friend!’
Cyno can come off as intimidating to people, so he’s surprised by how friendly you are to him; asking him if he’d like to join in the activities you were doing, or what he likes to do in his free time.
Nowadays it’s hard to imagine going around without seeing him nearby, and once he even pretended to be your boyfriend when your acquaintances asked why you were always together.
‘Are you sure you’re alright with that? Your friends will think I really am dating you.’ ‘Well… I can’t really complain about having such a reliable “boyfriend”, can I?’ 
It becomes easier once you settle on this as a cover story, though Cyno doesn’t really do anything extra with the role besides holding the door more often and giving you fleeting smiles, unsure if he really looked the part with how serious his expression is otherwise. People think it’s cute. You find it more endearing when you pass by a collectives shop, and notice he’s glancing at the TCG cards on display.
One day, perhaps you’d order a custom card based on Cyno? From your chats with his friends, you think he might find it amusing at the very least.
Because of how he is with you, you forget that Cyno is normally feared amongst the enemies of their agency. He rarely misses his mark, nor does his targets escape his judgment without a price.
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ellitx · 3 months
Note
elli...!! i dont know if someone has already done this so feel free to ignore but... what if...
venti is a sex worker and he was hired by y/n. usually his customers would be more experienced, and would lean more on doing rougher stuff, so he was surprised when he met y/n in her house, being inexperienced and kind of shy, asking for just a kiss. her reason being, she never had a boyfriend before and her peers are teasing her for being a virgin and not getting her first kiss yet... so she hired venti for.. experience and practice¿ >/////< then of course things will escalate from there since venti gets attracted to her, so he'll seduce her into giving in to him... hehe... then maybe after that they'll meet more and get to know each other better o/////o
masterlist
fem!reader
word count: 2.3k
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It was unexpected.
Really. What are the chances that the sex worker you hired would be someone you know? Especially if it’s a close friend of yours. Sure, Venti throws dirty jokes here and there for fun, but to discover this was his actual job?
You’re not one to judge but it was really unexpected. Never in your life would you ever possibly think he would be your practice partner in experiencing sexual intercourse when you’re a beginner yourself. And you can’t really blame the company when practically Venti was assigned to fulfill your commission.
You sat at the edge of your bed idly, hands over your knees clenched into a fist as you tried your best to quiet your heavy anxious breaths. You really hope you’re not breathing too loudly lest it’ll make more things awkward with him.
You could feel he was gazing at you occasionally but averted when you caught him. How long has it been since you’ve invited him to your room? 5 minutes? Or more than that? Honestly, you don’t know when all your head was fussing about was how to handle this awkward tension.
It’s not like Venti hadn’t been here. He only visited once and that’s it. You pretty much bond outdoors more than indoors. Ah, if only you could talk to him casually like an afternoon Tuesday and it’ll be an easy breeze.
But that’s easier said than done.
You shifted, fiddling with your hands, trying to find the right words for a starting conversation. But Venti was quick to start before you could even open your lips.
“Hey, we don’t need to do it if you don’t want to alright? We prioritize your comfort over the actual thing.”
Oh no.
This doesn’t sound good at all. Does he want to stop it because he doesn’t want to disappoint you or himself?
Your voice came out so nervously.
“I-I don’t mind at all, please don’t stop it because I also feel nervous. If anything…”
You paused, trying to pick up your nerve again. “If anything we should try our best to get through this!”
Wow…
You really made things more awkward than ever, huh?
‘Try our best to get through’? Really? Was that the best you could think of?
Archons, you just want to hide yourself, drown in the abyss of the sea, and never show your face to him ever again.
Your frenzied thoughts were interrupted by a small laughter. Venti was laughing but it was obvious he was holding back from bursting out out of courtesy.
“Haha! That’s so like you! I still can’t believe you’d be so interested in this kind of thing, [Name].”
Well, in the end, he did burst out into a hearty laugh after all. And he wasn’t holding back his tears either. Your face warmed up, the embarrassment becoming a shame, and the shame turned to a playful anger. You huffed, cheeks puffed out with your lips pursed.
“Yae keeps on teasing me how I’m still a virgin...” You mumbled under your breath.
Maybe you should be thanking him instead? Even though you’re mad at him for teasing you at least it eased the awkwardness, somewhat.
He gave you a soft look as he replied, “Are you sure you’re alright with this? With me being your partner?”
You quieted down as you gazed at him. His eyes were soft and comforting, as there was also a dash of reassurance. With Venti, someone who you know very well, being your partner to experience within the world of lust, it’s a safe choice.
You could even ask him questions if you have any concerns which makes contact much easier. You didn’t hesitate anymore as you smiled reassuringly at him.
A simple nod from you was enough to confirm and wash away his doubts and worries.
“Alright. Can you close your eyes?” He requested.
You nodded and waited patiently for his instruction. His finger traced along your brow, making you giggle lightly. His gentle touch left warmth running down your spine. No more than a later, something soft and warm made contact upon your cheeks.
You opened your eyes to see what was it that brushed onto you but Venti’s hand softly covered them, making your vision return to its dark state.
“Sorry, I wasn’t being clear.” His voice was now soft and breathy and you shivered from how his breath was fanning your cheeks. “You can open them once I tell you so. In the meantime, keep them close for me, okay?”
You gave a shy nod as you bit your lower lip. Not knowing what was happening made you so anxious, but with how gentle and caring he holds you against him felt so safe and reassuring.
It seems he understood your situation. So you decided to relax a little, closing your eyes and slowly exhaling while he moved his arms around you.
Soon after, he began to nuzzle at your ear, gently caressing the flesh of your neck with the tips of his fingers. The warmth from his hands slowly traveled towards your body, raising your body temperature up.
Then his fingers stopped over to your lips. He traced them slowly and lightly, caressing them as if memorizing every contour of your lips. A few moments passed by before his fingers touched your lower lip and you let out a gasp of pleasure. Then, the pad of his thumb slowly grazed your bottom lip, causing you to suckle on them unconsciously.
You heard a soft groan and your heart raced, your stomach tightening and your core beginning to become warm. You heard him faintly curse under his breath, and the creaking of the bed signified he was searching for a comfortable position.
Because a second later, one hand was on your hips holding you close to him while the other was parting your lips.
“Can I…?” He asked.
It was obvious what he was asking, and your heart beat faster and faster from his short yet heart-throbbing question. It was racing through the roof, chasing the highs of your adrenaline.
You nodded again. The urge to open your eyes was strong but you resisted, scolding yourself to follow Venti’s words.
It felt so sensual, the feel of his rough fingers pressed against your skin, almost tickling it. And that caused another gasp to come from you, however, something slightly warm and soft was pressing onto your pink lips.
Venti moved his head forward, softly kissing your lips, nibbling and sucking the soft flesh of your mouth. You were unsure on what to do and how to reciprocate the kiss. Should you lean? Tilt your head? Or open your lips a bit? You decided the latter option is the safest one.
Slowly parting them, you moaned when he gently bit on your lower lip. You clutched onto his shirt, your brows digging deeply into your temple as you calmed the heat running through you. The kiss felt so good that you almost forgot what you were supposed to be doing. When Venti broke the kiss you whined and you heard him chuckling. Even with your eyes closed, you can sense he had that teasing smile painting on his face.
"Venti?" You called when he didn't make any sounds or movements. The said male hummed then the bed shifted. Were you supposed to open your eyes now? But Venti hadn't given you any signals yet. You opted to keep them close and it was good that you did because your face was beet red as you fiddled with your fingers.
"Can we continue the kiss, please?" You asked in a small voice. Venti chuckled at your shy plea.
"Of course."
It didn't take any longer for him to return his lips to yours. You hummed lightly, relaxing against him. He hugged your waist, carefully holding you close. With his hand cupping your cheeks, you wonder if your shyness was being dissolved because of his comforting presence. 
The kisses were short and sweet and Venti would break away for a second and then return to you immediately. Perhaps so you can breathe effectively, but you paid no mind to it because you'd chase after him every time he parts.
This time it lasted longer. You were beginning to adjust to such intimacy that your breathing began to accelerate along with the increasing warmth and tingly sensation in your stomach. The flush in your cheeks deepened when you felt something prodding at your mouth's entrance. 
You fell onto your bed with a soft landing and Venti planted one hand beside your head while still cupping your cheek. He licked your lips, asking for permission, and when you granted him he wasted no time to taste you deeper into the sweet nectar. He tilted his head, kissing you again and again and again but with passion.
Softly moaning against him, you returned his kisses. You clutched, gripped, and held onto his shoulder as you fought back against the orgasmic pleasure. This has been going on for a while and yet, he hadn’t given up yet. You enjoyed each kiss and bite from his tongue and teeth, not stopping until he earned another moan from you.
He kissed you deeper, this time pushing his tongue into you and you gasped. Your legs squirmed, reaching out for something until they locked onto his hips. Venti grunted, one hand moving over to cover your eyes while the other kept your hips against the mattress as he lightly bucked his hips to yours.
Oh god…
For your first kiss, this man feels so good… You whimpered beneath him. A low sound escaped your lips. He chuckled. He doesn’t mind at all, does he?
“Cute,” He murmured, brushing some hair off your face and tilting his head up to look at you with lustful eyes. You blushed again and averted your gaze down. His lips curled upwards. It must be something about you that made you so sweet, like sugar and honey mixed together.
You shook your head and looked back at him. “I-I’m sorry… I’ve never been with anyone… So this isn’t… I don’t—“
As you were rumbling, you were cut off by the same pair of lips that had you instantly melting. You gasped as he took your lips with his, aggressively making you gasp again and causing more goosebumps to pop up on your body.
With one hand wrapped around the nape of your neck, the other still holding your face to his, you heard him whisper. “I told you to close your eyes, didn’t I? Just relax and enjoy, [Name].”
The warmth in his voice caused you to nod, relaxing and feeling his hands glide from your face to your shoulder blades.
His fingers spread over your skin and then glided lower, gliding across your lower back and dipping under the hem of your shirt.
And he kissed you again, deep and soft. The tip of his tongue flicked against the roof of your mouth, sending shivers down your spine.
You whimpered louder, unable to suppress the shy excitement bubbling within you. Your hips begin to squirm again, craving more friction and movement.
His tongue continues to dance between your lips, making you shudder against him. Slowly, he lets go of your lips, kissing down your chin and neck. His lips met the spot where your jawline meets your collarbone and you felt his hot breath on your skin. He nuzzled against you, quietly admiring how pink you were just from a long kiss. You turned your head, keeping his hair from tickling your skin.
A moment passed before his lips started to lick and suck at the area, sending another wave of bliss rushing throughout your entire body. God, is this what making out feels like?
Your entirety was burning hot, your nerves receiving one shock to another, and you felt so wet between your legs. All of these, all of what Venti is doing to you is making you feel an immeasurable pleasure of bliss.
You don’t know what you were doing except to moan and whimper his name out from your pretty mouth.
“Hmm… Venti…”
The said man grunted, his teeth grazing your flesh before biting and sucking your skin. You muffled your screams with your hands. With the darkness and bites combining with each other, it’s difficult to grasp what Venti will do next.
Because by the time you were thinking of it, his lips traveled to your neck and returned to kissing you. After giving you a good long and deep kiss he parted, a small string of saliva following after him.
He gulped his heavy breaths and permitted you to open your eyes. Your whole face was red and sweaty, your lips once coated with balm were now gone and replaced with the dripping of saliva, and your clothes were slightly disarray.
But you’re not complaining.
“You can open your eyes,”
As you obliged his words, Venti was gazing at you deeply. His green optics swirled with a great amount of lust. He hovered over you, his hands slipping beneath your shirt to caress your soft and warm skin so he could remember all areas of your body from his palm alone. 
Through your hazy vision, you can faintly make out some of your tinted balms were all over his lips. It'd be nice to paint his face with your lipstick...
But maybe on another day.
Putting his temple against yours, his breathy voice gave you shivers. “Continue or stop?” He asked.
You too were panting, so occupied by those delicious kisses he fed you that you eventually forgot to answer him.
“Yes or no? If you don’t answer I’ll take that as a no, [Name].” He kissed your jaw, his palm so dangerously close to your breasts that he was already fiddling with the underband of your bra.
Without hesitation, you replied, “Continue, please.”
193 notes · View notes
pochipop · 1 year
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#GENSHIN IMPACT !! ♡ — LITTLE DOMESTIC MOMENTS (KISSES).
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#. synopsis! — sweet, domestic moments involving various kisses .
#. characters! — zhongli, tighnari, alhaitham, childe, diluc, dehya, thoma .
#. warnings! — none .
#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .
#. others! — navigation & masterlist .
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𖦹. ━ ZHONGLI !!
Zhongli, who presses his lips to your knuckles, letting his mouth form to the dips and peaks. His kiss is warm and tender, stirring butterflies in your stomach. He's so gentlemanly that it catches you off-guard every once in a while, no matter how long you've been together. It doesn't hurt that his princely gesture is more-often-than-not accompanied by a loving stare, his gaze catching yours in time with your pounding heartbeat. He mumbles something that you don't quite catch, peppering a few more pecks to the same spot, as if doing so for good measure. Upon leading your hand away, he's sure to lace his long, slender fingers in between your own; letting his thumb smooth over the edge of your hand in slow, repetitive strokes.
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𖦹. ━ TIGHNARI !!
Tighnari, who places feather-light kisses on the tip of your nose just to hear you giggle and see your eyes crinkle into little crescent moons. Your soft laughter in those moments is like music to his ears, —stirring his heart in ways he never thought to be possible before he met you. He matches your lovesick grin with one of his own, unable to control the smile that pulls at the corners of his lips. If you're lucky, he might just pepper a few more kisses along your face, brushing his way across your cheeks and the bridge of your nose. Though it's a bit silly in practice, it means the world to you. It's Tighnari's way of being casually affectionate, —a skill he hasn't quite mastered yet (according to himself.) He's working on it! But really, you're content with things as they are now, and if it's any consolation to him, you don't think he needs to change a thing.
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𖦹. ━ ALHAITHAM !!
Alhaitham, who is all too skilled at making your heart skip beats as he places the side of his index finger just below your chin, the pad of his thumb just below your bottom lip, —guiding you into a sweet kiss. He can't stay for long; there's almost always somewhere he has to be during daylight hours, someone who needs his attention for matters far outside your area of expertise, —but he never fails to make the most of fleeting moments when they involve you. Even if it's little more than seeing you in passing, you can always expect to be led around the nearest corner, only for him to remind you that although he's a busy man, his thoughts are never void of you. His kisses are deep and passionate, lingering for a little longer than he knows they should for the settings they often take place in. There's definitely more where that came from, but alas, it'll have to wait just a bit into the future.
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𖦹. ━ CHILDE !!
Childe, who takes every opportunity to press his warm lips to the back of your neck, sending shivers along your spine. His hand smooths along your shoulder, fingertips all but dancing over you as he dots kisses all around as if mapping out new constellations on your skin. He loves the way you hum in content, making his way to the place just below your lobe, offering a few pecks there before he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. You love the way his gentle breath fans ever so softly against the shell of your ear, reminding you that though Childe can be much too reckless and wild, he knows when to wind himself down and put his position as your lover first. In truth, he'd kill for this to be his every waking moment, if only the spirit inside him didn't yearn for exploration and destruction.
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𖦹. ━ DILUC !!
Diluc, who will seemingly never tire of taking you into his arms after a long day, —pressing his lips to the crown of your head. There is never a time when you feel safer than when you're here in his warm embrace, wrapped in his loving arms. A hard day's worth of weariness clings to his bones, but he dare not lie down to rest until this deed has been done. He looks forward to this, —to coming home and pulling you in, sharing in your comfort. He mumbles little things about how he hopes your day went well or about how you smell nice. His large hand finds its way to the small of your back, lithe fingers rubbing gentle circles there. If you say anything, you may just need to repeat it on account of how disengaged he is from everything else; focusing solely on the way your warmth seeps into him, offering healing that he wasn't even aware he was in need of.
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𖦹. ━ DEHYA !!
Dehya, who all but stumbles in after an annoyingly long day, quiet desperation weaving through each move she makes to pull you close and place an affectionate kiss to the apple of your cheek. You give her a typical greeting, —albeit one she only acknowledges with an equally as typical hum before burying her face in the crook of your neck. Her even breaths ghost along your skin in heated tufts as she drops her guard completely. To her, this is the safest place she can imagine. There's no one to impress, no one to micro-manage, and she lets herself relax fully into your loving embrace, nuzzling into your neck even further. Bonus points for later if you play with her hair while she's there with you, —and even more bonus points if you place a few kisses of your own to her head while she recharges her energy in your arms.
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𖦹. ━ THOMA !!
Thoma, who never fails to greet you with a bright, happy smile and a kiss on your forehead. As a housekeeper, he's known for being meticulous, and that extends far into his relationship with you. There has not once been a time when it slipped his mind to give you his version of a "proper" greeting, —which always includes that much-needed forehead kiss and that signature smile full of genuine cheer. No matter the struggles of his day beforehand, seeing you never fails to brighten his mood and give him something positive to focus on. When it comes down to it, Thoma is always genuine about his hardships with you, but much prefers to start things off on the best note possible, and your heart always beats a little faster the moment his lips touch your cheek.
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1K notes · View notes
arlecchno · 7 months
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everything has changed (alhaitham x gn!reader)
ONE. i just wanna know you better
masterlist next
SUMMARY - alhaitham was positive that he was not worthy of anyone's love, nor was anyone worthy of his. but after bumping into you on a random wednesday morning, he was ought to be wrong in many ways. also; in which you attempt on asking alhaitham out a grand total of three times; three different ways, three different places, and three different situations, in hopes of him reciprocating your so called love— people do say that third time's the charm, right?
A/N - i have delayed this for far too long. i have maybe slept while editing this draft for around 4 times. i was supposed to post this last week. forgive me pls
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“three times.”
“pardon?”
you smiled at the gray-haired man at his desk, holding up three fingers as you repeated yourself once more. “i'll only ask you out three times, and if you decline all three of them, i won't ever bother you again. you can trust me on that.”
if there's one thing about you that alhaitham could describe, it's that you are… maybe a tad bit weird.
no, scratch that, you're insanely weird.
it's silly, he thinks. you're a well-known and respected scholar slash biologist from the amurta darshan. there's no one in the akademiya who doesn't know you, not when you're widely known for your eccentric researches and experiments. no, alhaitham definitely did not look into your work profile after that little incident. and even if he did, it was purely for work purposes, he was mainly doing his duty to report about it to the higher ups, lest he craves punishment or a lecture from grand sage azar.
anyway, frankly speaking, you should be professional, at the very least. hell, you have a doctorate. the title itself should be written all over you.
so why are you speaking to him like… well, he doesn't know. like you're a fool? a desperate moron in love? whatever it is, it's anything but professional to him.
see, this all started due to that sudden incident from a few weeks ago.
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nothing ever beats the rush hour in the akademiya on a wonderful wednesday morning, it seems.
as a full time worker at the prestigious institute, it was just another day for you and your overworked colleagues. however, getting errands done during this time around would be a death wish, everyone within the akademiya walls knew of that, and of course, you do too.
yet it seemed like you had just dug your own grave.
honestly— who wouldn't? you needed to head over to your lab immediately, the specimens in the crate you were currently carrying needed to be experimented on within the fifteen minute timeline you had mentally set up in your head, so it was obvious that you had no time to lose.
and to speak; the crowds in the house of daena honestly weren't that bad— maybe a little less spacious than usual, but still merely nothing for an experienced scholar like you. see, that's what you had initially thought before getting back to your private lab.
you just need to head on over to the biology section of the house of daena to retrieve a book titled ‘fungi and its extraordinary lives’, and you'll be set to continue conducting your ongoing research project. look— you did think of snatching the book way earlier before you even set out on an adventure of getting your crate of supplies, but it would've been too much work for you to go back and forth from your lab, as it was already close to the house of daena.
you figured it was best to do it on your way back instead, which, in full honesty— was not even a bad idea. it was just that things just had to escalate a whole lot differently than you had intended to.
see— your first mistake was keeping your eyes busy on your task instead of what's in front of you. which, in another sense, is what any other normal person would do. well, you know your way around the akademiya like the back of your hand. the shortcuts to aisle number thirty-six in the house of daena, the bathroom to the end of the hall on floor two, the shortest route to the archive room of the akademiya, you name it. so you thought you could just waltz your way through the library easily. again, your first mistake.
your second mistake was that you were clearly doing anything but walking, understandably so. you're well aware of the akademiya rules: no running in the institution, no careless mistakes, no idle chit chat and gossip— among many others. right, the handbooks weren't a stranger to you. there was even a point in your life where you were forced to memorise it from a to z by one of your professors because you were unfortunate enough to have unintentionally broken one of the many minuscule rules that one time, which in your opinion was quite the torture for a mere student like you back then. you may or may not still hold a grudge against the said professor.
as you were double checking your to-do list with a pencil and piece of paper on your beloved crate, you hadn't realized that you were walking towards someone. okay, maybe the correct word for your actions right now would be sprinting, but you'd hate to admit that you were in the wrong.
now, this is your last mistake. the person that is about to bump into you is not a mere scholar, whom you can't just apologize to once or a few more times and move on with your day.
next thing you knew, you collided into the person's chest that was so hard it felt you just crashed into a wall, and much to your dismay, caused you to harshly fall on the pristine floors from the impact, along with your precious, precious crate, which is now most likely a lost cause as your specimens and other important stuff you had worked so hard to look for earlier were all over you and the extravagant floors of the house of daena. disgusting, you know, but that was the least of your worries right now.
as if that wasn't already downright embarrassing enough, you're now covered in gooey fungi, you have totally made a fool out of yourself, and all eyes are currently on you, scholars and students alike whispering amongst themselves at the scene they were witnessing. a monstrosity, truly.
you were sure that you'd be the main topic of gossip for at least a week. maybe two weeks at best.
the house of daena was silent, with only the chit and chatter amongst the scholars as an exception. at first sight, you wondered why everyone would pay so much attention to you instead of continuing on with what they were doing just a fleeting second ago. surely this happens in the akademiya at least once, no?
you've made two revelations to this; one, you were so ungodly hideous that everyone just had to stare. or two, you had probably just bumped into some hot-shot akademiyan.
of course, the first thing any sane person would do is look up to the perpetrator who had cause you this much damage. (it was your fault to begin with.)
so you did.
and of course any normal person who had just been bumped into would have thought of the same thing: have every reason to be angry at the person who bumped into you, whether they were in the wrong or not.
so it was only natural that you too, had the same thought in mind.
but the second you laid your eyes on him, it's as if the whole world stopped, and you finally understand why everyone was so adamant on just standing there and whispering about your little incident instead of helping you out like any decent human being would. and the latter of your revelation was definitely on spot. you would've done a victory dance if you were in any other situation except this.
because the person you had just bump into is none other than the scribe of the akademiya, the one and only, alhaitham.
you've heard of him a few times— apparently he's quite the reserved man, yet would not hesitate to call you out on your wrongdoings or foolish mistakes. well, that's what you heard anyway; as a mere worker who is trying to make ends meet, you are in no position to judge people based on what your fellow juniors run their mouths about these days.
for as long as you've been both an alum and full-time employee at the akademiya, it's truly a wonder that you've never actually seen the scribe in person. right, that's also what you've heard people say— that the scribe can hardly be spotted, nor can he be found easily to begin with. he's never in his office, and it's not often that you'd find him within the akademiya walls; the man is anywhere but at his working place, and somehow gets away with it because he's the scribe, whose presence is not of importance unless he deems so.
and if you are granted the position to say this; it is mainly because the higher ups of the akademiya takes great pride in their respected positions, so it is not a shocker that someone with an official title like grand scribe can frequently get away with such things.
egocentric, blunt, unambitious and many more— those are the few descriptions you've heard over the past few years from scholars about the scribe.
but out of all of the mysterious things you've miraculously heard about the man, you've never seen or heard people point out how attractive he is.
how could they not? he’s got a broad frame that could actually knock the breath out of you (which in this case, quite literally did knock you down), a set of clothes that somehow just screams him, despite the fact that you know next to nothing about the guy, tuft of gray hair that bounces graciously and looks luscious enough it makes you envious how he even manages to take such great care of it, and lastly, a pair of turquoise eyes that looked like an oasis from the sumeru desert, one you could just stare into forever, ever and ever.
this man is a whole package.
it was like the gods had granted you the perfect opportunity to present yourself in front of an attractive man, like the gods have finally decided to fill a bit of colour into your hopeless romantic and workaholic life, and gave you this blessing— except for the fact that this, this might be the most embarrassing way possible in doing so.
oh how you want the ground to swallow you up right now.
after what seemed like forever (it was less than thirty seconds), the man of the hour finally speaks, startling you with his voice. “would you rather sit down there like a fool or will you stand up?” ouch. maybe it's safe to say that at least one of the things people say about him are, in fact, true.
you blinked, once, twice, before you could pick up on what what he said and hurriedly stand up, glass jars of your specimens that were previously all over you clinking to the floor a little too loud, some already having been broken and shattered, but you could care less when the man in front of you was currently glaring at you like you have committed one of the six cardinal sins.
before he could even jab you more with his next few blunt words, you decided to bow down to a complete ninety-degree and started profusely apologizing, all previous thoughts of wanting to blame everything on him for ruining your prolonged experiment were thrown out the window (again, it is your fault in the first place.)
sure, this might hurt your pride and ego, but you'd rather do this than having the possibility of listening to the scribe giving you a lifelong lecture on the basic rules of the akademiya, or yet even worse, you get sent to the grand sage and have your doctorate and title revoked for being unprofessional, unethical, or whatever nonsense grand sage azar would demote you for. call yourself dramatic and insane, but you'd rather not inflict any chances of ending up humiliated or jobless. or both.
a beat passes, and you're still mumbling out apologies, causing alhaitham to clear his throat in order to cut you off.
“you… you can stand upright now,” he said, and it takes you another few seconds before you reluctantly do as he says, and the first thing you see is him looking at you with a puzzled expression plastered on his face.
“i apologize once again, scribe. it was my fault, i wasn't looking,” you looked down as you spoke, staring at your ruined materials on the white tiles.
alhaitham all but sighs, and tells you to look where you're going next time. you couldn't help but only nod, not even glancing at him once out of embarrassment. “you are fully aware of the akademiya rules, are you not? act one-o-three; no running in the institution unless–”
“–an emergency occurs, or and if ordered to by either of the six sages, grand sage included,” you finished his sentence with the slight of an eye roll, before remembering that this was the scribe, not your annoying biology professor who countlessly had you memorise the five-hundred-page worth of akademiya rules. truthfully, there was no need for a teaching institution to have that many rules.
then, he prompts another question: “do you perhaps need any help…” he seemed to have trailed off, and you flickered your eyes to him just for a fleeting second to see what he was doing. “amurta scholar?” he finished his question as he stared at your lab coat, a small badge to your left with the amurta logo pinned on it, indicating which darshan you are from.
“uh… no– it's alright,” you say sheepishly as you quickly crouched down, already starting to pick up your glass jars and whatnot. “you should get going, scribe. you must have a lot of work to do here in the akademiya.”
alhaitham could only nod as you tell him that, not even minding the fact that you were not able to see him as of the moment. he merely tells you to watch where you're going next time and starts to walk away; which in your opinion was maybe just a tad bit rude— the least he could do was help you out. but knowing him, as per what people talk about, that'd be nigh impossible. also, you did say that you didn't need any help, so you couldn't blame him per se. honestly, if you were in his shoes you'd probably have done the same.
so you hurriedly finished cleaning up your mess and ran to your lab, all in your splattered–with–gooey–fungi glory. as you sighed behind closed doors, you prayed to the gods above that your project would go smoothly and peacefully. fingers crossed.
well, maybe after yet another exhausting trip to the avidya forest for another set of fungi, that is.
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but of course, it was only wishful thinking, there's not a lot to hope for when alhaitham pretty much occupied your mind the whole day. it has even gotten to the point where your fellow juniors had to snap you out of your daydream so that you could actually focus on your research.
sure, call yourself a hopeless romantic (maybe a crazy lunatic in this case), but who wouldn't fall for him at first sight? and who the hell cares about the things scholars gossip about him? a man with that sort of pretty privilege could run over your toe and you would gracefully thank him for it.
and, point in case— alhaitham isn't that bad. okay, sure, maybe a little too blunt and too uncaring for his own good, but he is not as bad as people make him seem.
maybe you should get to know alhaitham more, right? not because you're interested in him (you are, but that could be pushed aside for now), you merely want to debunk the bad rumors about him going around (they aren't even half as bad, just highly exaggerated and overall childish) and make sure that everyone knows that alhaitham is not just the egocentric and arrogant guy people always see (he probably is just exactly that, but it's worth the try).
you firmly believe there's more to the scribe than what meets the eye.
so, you make it your mission and goal to get to know alhaitham better, even if it may be the worst idea possible.
spoilers: it absolutely is the worst idea possible.
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after the minor incident you had, you tried your very best to encounter him during work hours, which honestly wasn't as challenging as you thought it was. sure, he's not around much, but after maybe a week or so of hanging around the house of daena (stalking would be the ideal word you're looking for), you finally got to know his routine— well, only for when he's around the humongous library, but that will suffice for now.
evidently, alhaitham would only visit the house of daena on wednesdays, and weirdly on saturdays, at ten in the morning sharp. for what reason you quite have no clue, but he's frequently around the linguistics section, reading a book or two about ancient runes and that sort of stuff, sometimes even seen squabbling with a certain architect from the kshahrewar darshan too. you don't know kaveh much— but apparently he's acquainted with alhaitham, of all people.
but now that you know a part of his routine, you can probably catch the opportunity to get to know him. so ever since then, you have been, quote unquote, “bumping„ into him nonstop.
the first few times you bumped into him, you had greeted him a couple of times, and after a bit of coaxing, you somehow managed to drag him into small talk. you've even gotten to the point where you're asking him when he's free— reason why? of course, you just want to take him out for a bit during lunch break to make up for the incident you two had just a few weeks ago, definitely no ulterior motives whatsoever; which unfortunately, alhaitham kept declining because he quotes that “it would be a waste of time,” and that “things should just be left in the past.”
but that clearly didn’t stop you from trying, again and again. your guardians clearly didn't raise a quitter.
one thing you did find out about alhaitham after a few conversations with him is that the man is anything but fond of small talk, which was expected. and after countless attempts on trying to get him into one, you eventually had to go on a different route to get his attention.
so, here you are now, somehow having managed to reach your way to his office— and miraculously enough, alhaitham just so happens to also be present at the time, which gives you the perfect opportunity to raise the deal that has been dying to escape from your throat.
look— there's no denying that you are here for work purposes; you were requesting for one of your documentations to be cited and reviewed, and although alhaitham is mainly responsible for documenting data regarding the akademiya and the six darshans, he offered a helping hand during one of your small talks you had successfully managed to coax out of him.
and you did come here for that, but you just couldn't help but blurt everything out.
and it doesn't really help that alhaitham is looking at you like you've submitted the worst thesis possible. you haven't even handed it to him yet.
alhaitham continues to frown. “would it not be a hassle to be asking me out that much? why would you even be interested in me?” he had asked, and he didn't bother waiting for your reply as he continued speaking. “you could use those three times right now and i'll decline all of them instantly. that way, you won't have to bother me again.”
“well aren't you quite rude, scribe,” you huffed, retracting your hand back to your side. talk about rude; you're here for the sole purpose of asking him out. “give me a chance, would you? i'm confident that you'd have changed your mind by the time i'm on my last chance,” you grinned as you quirked your eyebrows up and down, and alhaitham almost rolled his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest and leans back on his chair. almost.
“i highly doubt it,” he says.
you tucked your files closer to your chest. “have you ever heard of the saying ‘third time's the charm’, scribe?”
“i believe so, yes,” he nods, then adds: “you'll only ever hear obsessive gamblers say that sort of nonsense when they've lost their current gamble, in hopes of winning the next round.”
in an instant, your jaw drops. “are you implying that i am gambling my love life?” see, if you look closely— alhaitham was this close to smiling.
“i am just saying that there is no point in pursuing something, or someone, in this case, when you've already failed the first time, biologist,” well, now you understand why scholars say he is unambitious. “it would be a waste of time to be around me, or be with me, for that matter. i doubt that i could ever reciprocate your feelings.”
ouch. you'll probably have to double check your list of alhaitham's personality chart again.
“please?” you plead, and alhaitham stares at you for a little too long that you eventually had to break eye contact to avoid his intense gaze. “i promise you that i will never bother you again, you can trust me on that. you won't even see my face on the grounds of the akademiya.”
he looks at you confusedly. “are you not the famous biologist with fifteen awards on their name? i am bound to bump into you in the near future, in one way or another.” he says, tapping his finger on his forearm.
huh, how did he know that you have won fifteen akademiyan awards? as far as you know, this guy knows nothing about you, the fact that he had to check which darshan you are from during your incident was enough proof.
maybe you're not the only one who is interested in the other.
“that's not the point!” you groaned, rubbing your temple with your free hand. this may or may not be directed to both your thoughts and him.
okay, maybe this was a bad idea after all— alhaitham is an impossible man. you'd think that you were capable enough to break his façade, to see the true him after a bit of pestering, but nooo, you're pretty damn sure this is him. there's no such thing as a façade. he's just… alhaitham. which could either be a blessing or a curse, if you ever manage to steal his heart. that, or maybe both. but then again, it still doesn't change the fact that he is one tough nut to crack.
alhaitham sighs. “will you really leave me alone?”
“huh?”
“will you really stop bothering me once you're over with your… shenanigans?”
you blinked. then, you widen your eyes, nodding. “of course. i won't pursue you again, scribe. all i am asking is for you to lend me your time for the duration of— uh, actually, i'm not sure what i am supposed to call this,” you mumble the last few words, but still audible enough for the gray-haired man to hear.
“say, hypothetically, what would you do if i were to agree to one of your three chances of asking me out? what will you do then?”
“oh,” you shift from one foot to another, awkwardness coursing through your veins at the lack of answer you could think of at the top of your head. “i… i am not quite sure. that's for future me to worry about, i guess?”
alhaitham raises a brow, but doesn't question your uncertainty. instead, he says something else in return: “alright, then. i will indulge in your antics for as long as you'd have me as your… social experiment.”
social experiment is just an over exaggeration, right? it has to be. no rational person says it like that.
“what?”
“i'm saying that i will agree to the terms you have given me, but you will stop bothering once your chances are up. do you understand?” he enunciates his words carefully, and you almost dropped your files, right then and there.
gulping, you nod, a small grin tugging at your lips, and alhaitham already regrets his words when you say: “of course.”
well, be prepared for a rollercoaster ride.
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extra note - ok guys please keep me in your thoughts and prayers 🙏 writing slump is crazy this is the first work i’ve posted in over 2 months. that is ridonkulous. hope i don’t disappear again
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taglist is still open!! :D
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mayaree-darling · 4 months
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Water... Connoisseur?// Neuvillette
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synopsis: Neuvillette shares his love for water tasting with the Creator (ft. Paimon and the Traveler)
from aree: this was supposed to be a short funny little thing but as always i can’t keep my mouth shut and now this is 17 pages long
content: Creator!Reader; smol spoiler(?) for and inspired by Neuvillette's story quest and profile/voice over; Reader and the Traveler (and Paimon) have Siblings Energy; I headcanon that the Traveler can see their inventory the way us players can; Pure Crack; Probably OOC Neuvillette
fic length: ~5.3k 
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You are the Creator of Teyvat, spending time with the Traveler, Paimon, and Neuvillette. At one point, the Iudex offers for the four of you to take a break in his office and he'll fetch you some refreshments. Almost immediately, you see from the corner of your eye the Traveler and Paimon stutter out that they'll get the drinks themselves, but it's too late. You didn't see what was wrong with Neuvillette offering something to drink - if anything, you're curious to know what kind of drink he'd prepare for his guests. This was your first time tasting what Fontaine had to offer. So you let him go. 
When Neuvillette leaves the room, the traveling duo beside you share a heavy sigh. You turn to them and ask what's wrong. They share a meaningful look. You'll see, they say.
Eventually, Neuvillette comes back rolling a small food trolley in front of him. On top are four silver pitchers and four goblets. Paimon sheepishly laughs, "Here we go."
You step forward - because it's clear to you Traveler and Paimon have no plans on taking initiative - and Neuvillette motions to the pitchers. 
"Each one is from a different nation. I hope that you'll find at least one of them to your tastes, Your Grace. I assure you they are all of high quality, although I have no doubt of it since they are a part of your creation, after all. Personally, I can't say I favor one over the other. I find each one particularly special in its own way, so I must apologize if I cannot give you a recommendation." 
You frown. You... made them? You don't remember something about creating a drink for each nation. Was this a recipe from your old life that only a dragon sovereign could remember? The Traveler clears their throat and mumbles something under their breath. You turn to them questioningly and you watch bemused as their mouth ticks up at the corners.
"It's water." The Traveler looks at everything in the room before their eyes land on you.
You blink. "Excuse me?"
"Haha.. It's just water... The drinks..." If Paimon was standing on solid ground, you think she would be bouncing on the balls of her feet, her arms behind her. When she meets your eyes, she lets out a sheepish laugh. "That's what Neuvillette means by they're from every nation. They're... spring water from different places."
You slowly look at the Traveler and Paimon in turn, hoping for a deeper explanation or for them to tell you they were pulling your leg, but both of them refuse to look you in the eye. Your mouth is opened to a permanent gasp of understanding as you turn back to the food trolley in front of you.
Oh...
"Is there something wrong, Your Grace?" You almost regret looking at Neuvillette. Although he doesn't usually show his emotions, it's almost like he can't help but show you how dejected he looks. To put it simply, it felt like you kicked an otter to the curb, sad puppy eyes and everything. You half expect it to start raining outside that instant. "I can arrange for the Melusine to make something else, if you'd like. I'm sure they'd be honored to -"
"NO! No. It's okay. It's fine, Neuvillette. Thank you for the offer, but it's fine." You shoot a frown at the duo, who have taken to plastering themselves on one of the many sofas in the room, intent on letting you handle the water situation. You breathe in and take a step forward, taking one of the goblets. "You said each one is special, right? I'm sure they'll taste... nice..."
You pointedly ignore the Traveler as they grumble once more (you pretend you didn't just hear Paimon say "no it won't"). You look at each of the pitchers and pretend to be thinking hard about your choice. It's kind of hard to make a choice now that you know they're all just water. Your only saving grace is you know where they came from.
"I think I'll start off with... Sumeru!" Neuvillette all but beams at your decision and picks up the selected pitcher. You're glad he did because you didn't know which was which. You pray to Nahida that you didn't make a bad choice (the God of Wisdom has yet to fail you since your descent and you hope that she has your back this time, too.) Holding out your goblet, you watch as Neuvillette fills the cup half way, almost hoping there's a telltale sign of a difference (or it's a different drink altogether).
It's just water.
"A wonderful choice, Your Grace. This particular water comes from Apam Woods of Sumeru. You'll find the taste to be rich and complex. Despite usually having to take the time to savor it to fully appreciate it, I'm sure Your Grace will have no problem distinguishing its special flavor, which is unlike any other."
Did he have to put the pressure on you like that? 
You laugh sheepishly as you fight to give Neuvillette your best thankful smile. Taking back the goblet, you stare at your drink, deciding your best bet was to examine it if you were going to "savor" it. Maybe it was a different color? No, it's still translucent in nature. Swirling it a few times, it doesn't appear to have a thicker viscosity as it sloshes around your cup. As for the smell it was- 
Wait. Huh?
"It's fragrant," you mumble. Only when you hear yourself clearly do you realize the room is silent. Looking up, you see Neuvillette staring at you, and behind you, even the Traveler and Paimon have taken an interest in your exchange. All eyes are trained on you, watching your reaction. You look back to Neuvillette as he lets out a hum.
"It's... fragrant? I must say, even I have never thought to discern its smell. For a moment, please," Neuvillette steps forward and takes a goblet for himself, pouring water from the same pitcher. He pulls the goblet up to his nose. "Hmm. As I thought. It seems I am unable to smell this fragrance you speak of. How interesting."
"Wait. If you can smell it..." You turn to Paimon as she looks at the Traveler. When they look at you, their eyes are expectant.
Surely, you can...?
Looking at Neuvillette, he gives you an encouraging nod. You raise the goblet to your lips and take a tentative sip. And then another. And then... another? You lower the goblet, and then turn to the Traveler.
"It tastes like flowers." You know you and the Traveler share the same incredulous look. You can just feel the disbelief and confusion pulling at your face. Looking at Paimon, she's just as confused, head in her little hands. "When I focus on it, it's floral. Kind of like... tea? Like herbal tea, just less strong. It could even be perfume."
"Marvelous," you look at Neuvillette, and it's clear to you he does not sense the growing bewilderment you and the other two are going through. He smiles at you softly, and you don't have the heart to tell him that water isn't supposed to have a flavor. "I don't seem to recall anyone else sharing my taste for water. But I must say - even I am unable to perfectly put a name or a description to the flavor I experience. It's almost always a feeling."
"WAIT! Waitwaitwaitwait! I wanna try, too!" Paimon rushes to your side and takes your goblet in her hands, ready to drink it. You hear Neuvillette clear his throat and turn to him as he fills the other two goblets with Sumeru water. Paimon lets go of your goblet and goes to take one for herself. You see the Traveller stand up and grab one too. "Is it different from the one we had before? Wait, but it's from the Apam Woods, too..."
The Traveler and Paimon take a big gulp at the same time, licking their lips and savoring the taste before eventually they click their tongues in unison.
"Nope." The Traveler laughs, almost amused and defeated at the same time.
"Nothing's different. It's the same water as last time!" Paimon stomps her little feet in the air. "Are you pulling Paimon's leg?"
"Of course not. However, I am curious. If it is fine with Your Grace, I would love to hear more about what you can taste," If you were honest, you didn't want any more of the spotlight on you - being the Creator, you've had enough of that. But Neuvillette seemed so happy in the moment you couldn't possibly refuse him. 
"Well, besides smelling and tasting like flowers," you take a sip, letting it roll on your tongue. "It also has this sort of herby aftertaste? But only when I focus on it. Kind of like basils? Or rosemary? I can't tell you for sure what kind, but it kind of tastes like that."
When you turn back to them, you're surprised to see Neuvillette looking at you in confusion. Did you say something wrong?
"He doesn't know what those are, dummy," The Traveler sighs. You watch as they take a metal shaker out from their inventory and start preparing a drink of their own. Paimon watches on, excited of drinking something that wasn't just water. "They don't have those here in Teyvat, remember?"
"Traveler, I implore you to watch your words. Was it necessary to call Your Grace as such?" Neuvillette frowns. 
The Traveler shrugs and you both share a secretive smile. "They prefer that over 'Your Grace', though."
Neuvillette turns to you with concern. "Is-is that true, Your Grace? Why would you prefer that name? I can't quite say I agree with that decision but- "
"It's fine, Neuvillette. I forgot you didn't know any of those herbs, so I'm sorry for that. Just know the water tastes like it has a bit of herbs or spice to it." You shake your head with a laugh, thinking of a way to change the subject. "Anyway, can I taste the other ones?"
Neuvillette almost visibly lights up at that and takes another of the pitchers, filling your emptied goblet with more water.
"This one is from Inazuma's Konda Village. For its mouthfeel, I find it quite placid." Neuvillette looks at you expectantly. You're reminded again of a puppy, or in his case, an otter. A very cute otter. As you put the goblet to your lips, you have half a mind to gift him a seashell.
You take a sip and almost immediately spit it out. In an instant, Neuvillette is by your side, throwing the goblet halfway across the room. Before you realize it, you're in his arms and he has half a mind to bolt out the room to get you to a healer until you stop him.
"WAIT! Wait, Neuvi, just calm down-" you descend into a coughing fit.
"Your Grace! What's wrong? Is it poison? Were you poisoned?! Oh no, Paimon can't look-" 
"That's preposterous. I prepared the drinks myself," he says that, but Neuvillette talks like he's suddenly doubting himself. 
"You sure you don't need to get healed?" the Traveler frowns in concern, turning your face this way and that, looking for signs of poisoning.
You shake your head again and swallow down another cough, clearing your throat. "No, no, I don't need a healer. I wasn't poisoned. I just wasn't expecting to suddenly take a shot of sparkling water." 
The Traveler blinks, there's a pause as it sinks in, and suddenly they stand up and head back to the food trolley. They pick up the shaker they unceremoniously left when everyone panicked and resumed making their drink.
"Traveler, are you gonna make medicine for the Creator?" Paimon floats around you in concern. 
"You guys can stop panicking. They're not gonna die," the Traveler sighs and looks at you with a face that can only be described as 'Are you for reals.' "I think they were just surprised with how the water tasted."
You motion for Neuvillette to let you down, which he does albeit very hesitantly. You merely laugh at the concern on his face and give him a pat on the back to reassure him that no, the Creator was not going to die on his watch just because of a bad drink of water. 
The Iudex frowns hard looking at the pitcher of Inazuman water. "You called it... sparkling water? Pardon me if I'm wrong, but am I to assume water from Inazuma has different visual properties? Does Your Grace see something we are unable to? And if so, does this difference have an effect on the taste?" 
You shake your head again for what seemed like the thousandth time, before you stop and think about it for a second. You head to the food trolley and pick up Paimon's empty cup. Pouring Inazuman water from the pitcher, you watch as normal looking water fills the goblet. The normal fizzle of bubbles you expect from a carbonated drink is not present, even as you swirl it around. 
Before Neuvillette can stop you, you take a sip of it again. You hear him stifle a gasp. His hand is on your shoulder, ready to bring you to Sigewinne at record speed if needed. But you weren't mistaken - it really does taste like sparkling water. Weird. You turn to Neuvillette and try to look as reassuring as possible.
"So, back from... where I came from, we have this drink called sparkling water. It's not that it was particularly, uh, sparkly, but it did have a lot of bubbles. The water from Inazuma here looks like regular water, but it does feel like sparkling water in your mouth," you explain slowly. The look of doubt doesn't leave Neuvillete's face. "It's also not deadly for us, just like how this water isn't. I mean, you like drinking it, right? That means it's fine for consumption." 
He visibly eases up at your words. He reluctantly lets go of your shoulder with a shaky exhale. You kinda feel bad for making him so worried. Eventually, you watch as he calms down from the panic earlier and suddenly he's back to his stoic self, unable to resist his interest in your water tasting experience.
"So this so-called sparkling water... what does it feel like? May you explain? I'm afraid I cannot quite imagine it." Neuvillette looks to be deep in thought and you laugh softly. He really was into water tasting. 
"Oh? Paimon thinks Mondstadt has something similar."
The Traveler pauses from taking a sip of their new drink - Boreal Watch, you remember it's called - before opening their inventory. They scroll through a list of ingredients before taking out a single bottle. The bubbling liquid is a familiar sight. "They call it Fizzy Water. I used it to make drinks at Angel's Share once. Feel free to drink this, Monsieur Neuvillette. Master Diluc gave it as a freebie."
Neuvillette takes the bottle with a nod of thanks. He examines the packaging for a moment, pops the bottle open and takes a swig. There's a pregnant pause before he turns his back to you, takes his goblet and spits out the drink into it out of your line of sight. The three of you don't have to look at each other to know the expression the others have; Paimon sounds like she's close to tears from holding in her laughter. 
When Neuvillette turns to you again, you give him a small smile, ready to comfort him, before he drops to his knee in front of you. You try to pull him up by his arms but he just holds on to your hands.
"Your Grace, please allow me to apologize for making you go through that."
"H-hey, I didn't mind you literally spitting it out, come on now, I basically did the same thing if not worse-"
"No. Not that, Your Grace. I also apologize for that, yes, but I refused to swallow that drink down no matter the cost." He's staring at you dead in the eyes and he looked so serious it was unnerving. "I'm apologizing for letting you drink the water from Inazuma. Had I known that is what you would experience, I would have skipped offering it to you as a refreshment." 
"Please stand up. Don't worry about it. It's not that big of a deal," you pull on his arms again and he doesn't resist, standing back up. "I told you it's a normal drink from where I'm from, right? I was just shocked because I wasn't expecting it."
"Do you mean..." Neuvillette visibly cringes, much to your amusement. "People from your old land... like? To drink it? How... eccentric."
"So do those from Mondstadt, Monsieur Neuvillette," you turn to the Traveler in disbelief that they'd say that right now, but all they give you back is a devious grin peeking from atop their cup as they take another sip. "Dawning Dew was a bestseller."
Paimon clears her throat as she collects herself. "It's kind of funny that Neuvillette can't feel the fizziness when he's drinking? He said that he can feel what he drinks, not taste it. Paimon wonders what's up with that."
"What's Konda Village water like for you, again?" you hum.
"If I had to put a word to it," Neuvillette thought about it for a second. "Placid."
"Placid? That's one way to describe something." Paimon shrugs. 
"Yes, that was how I would have described it," Neuvillette shoots a glare at the bottle of Fizzy Water and another concerned look at you. "After current events, I can't quite say the same."
Paimon was right, though. Placid was definitely a different way of describing things. Placid meant... calm? Or tranquil? You definitely didn't think that's how you'd describe Inazuma. Wait, Inazuma? And that feeling of sparkling water...
"Is it possible... You think it's 'placid'... because your mouth has gone numb?" you gape at Neuvillette.
He stares back at you blankly. The silence in the room is deafening. 
“Maybe… don’t drink that for a while. Not until you’re ready again,” you offer.
“Agreed.” Neuvillette nods stiffly. 
“Alright!” you clap your hands and turn back to the food trolley. “What’s next?” 
To your surprise, Neuvillette’s hand wraps around your wrist as you manage to grasp the next pitcher's handle. He looks just as surprised as you do that he’s holding on to you. 
“Neuvi…llette?” you blink at him.
“Forgive me, Your Grace,” he lets go like he was burned, but he doesn’t exactly move away. “But we can stop here if you so wish.” 
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean to say is,” Neuvillette coughs into his fist, thinking hard about his next words. “Although I wish to learn more about the different tastes Your Grace can experience, I must admit I am unable to guide you nor accompany you in your journey, per say. Should there be something wrong with the following water samples, I can only watch and listen like the others, but not help until much later.”
You nod slowly. 
“It means he’s concerned, dummy,” a voice calls out from behind you and you roll your eyes.
“Yeah, I kind of got that, thanks for the heads up,” you groan.
“If I am honest,” Neuvillette’s voice is soft, you’d even be confident to say it’s like he only wants you to hear. “I feel like a scientist watching my latest test subject. Fascinated, and yet should a problem arise, useless.”
“Hey, don’t say that,” you frown at him, but the expression easily slides off your face when he faces you (damn those sad otter eyes). Eventually, you offer him a soft smile. “If I really considered this as life threatening as you think, I would have stopped after the first pitcher. But I’m genuinely having fun, alright? So don’t worry too much about it.”
He doesn’t look quite convinced. You have been telling him to calm down a lot this entire time. When he opens his mouth to dissuade you, you beat him to it.
“I should thank you, you know.”
“Excuse me?” Neuvillette gapes at you. “I almost rushed you to a healer just a moment ago, Your Grace. I have done nothing to earn your gratitude.”
“That’s the thing, though, thank you for taking care of me this entire time, Neuvillette. You’ve been looking out for me every time we’re together, so thank you,” without thinking it over, you close the distance between you two and hug him. When you pull away, he’s intent on not looking you in the eye. “Thank you also for introducing me to water tasting. Never thought the day would come but here we are. It really is quite fun.”
“I see…” Neuvillette says, before abruptly turning around, giving you a clear view of his reddened ears. “Pardon me for a moment, Your Grace. I just… need to recollect for a moment.” 
Before you can say anything else, he leaves your side and goes to get your goblet he threw earlier in a panic. He kneels down and picks it up, but instead of heading back towards you, he just sort of holds it, turning it around in his hand mindlessly. You watch, jaw slightly open, until you feel a presence behind you. 
“I think you broke him.” 
You turn to the Traveler with concern. “Yeah I think so, too, should I be worried?” 
You both turn to Neuvillette, seeing he’s still busy with his goblet, before looking back to each other.
“I bet 500 mora he’ll go back to normal if you make yourself another drink.” 
“It’s not really a bet if we agree on the same thing, though?” 
You clear your throat, hoping to catch Neuvillette’s attention as you turn to Paimon. “Paimon, mind if I borrow your cup for now? We can share if you need it.”
“No, that’s okay. Paimon’s had enough of water. Paimon will share with the Traveler!” Almost on cue, the Traveler offers their drink to Paimon. 
The moment you lift the next pitcher, Neuvillette is by your side in an instant, your goblet and his safely set aside for washing later. “May I do the honors, Your Grace?” 
You offer your goblet as he holds up the pitcher. He pauses.
“Promise me we’ll stop if things get… awry.”
You smile. “You said it yourself, right? This is water prepared by the Iudex himself and made by the Creator themselves. I don’t doubt for a second that it’s not safe.” 
Neuvillette shares your smile softly before pouring the water into your goblet. Third time’s the charm, right? You take a sip and… raise an eyebrow.
“It’s salty. Huh.” you take another sip. “Sort of metallic, too. That’s pretty close to the same thing but, yeah, I’d say it’s rather salty.”
“Salty? That’s quite strange.” Neuvillette double checks that he’s holding the right pitcher. “This water is from Liyue, particularly from Qingce Village. I know of the water from Liyue to have an enduring aftertaste, but I must say I was not expecting it to be salty.”
“Me, too; for Liyue I was kind of expecting it to have an earthy kind of taste. Whatever that tastes like, I don’t know, but I was ready for anything besides this,” you take another sip. “Can’t say it’s all that bad, though. I feel like I’m at a beach.”
“Only if you’re actively drinking the sea water.” 
You don’t even bother looking behind you. “I said it ‘felt’ like. I didn’t say ‘taste’ like. Get your facts straight.”
Looking up at Neuvillette, you realize he’s only watching your reactions. He smiles softly when he finds your attention on him. Not wanting to be the only one “enjoying” the drink, you offer your goblet to him. He looks at you, slightly alarmed, but when you make no move to take the goblet back, he reluctantly takes it. He turns away from you as he drinks. 
You hear the Traveler clear their throat behind you. When you go to look, their eyebrows are raised at you. They look to Neuvillette and then to you before scoffing. Oh… was it that intimate an action?
“A-anyway,” you clear your throat as Neuvillette hands the goblet back to you. There’s a small pleased smile on his face. “What do you think of when you drink water from Liyue?” 
“For me,” Neuvillette closes his eyes for a few seconds, careful of what to say next. “I always thought it had a poignant touch to it.”
“Poignant?” What did you think of when you thought of poignant? Swirling the water around your cup, you recall a story quest. Liyue, salt, and water are key factors in its plot. A sad smile overtakes your features. “Ah. Yes, I guess poignant would be a good word for that. Salty is the right word, too.”
Neuvillette tilts his head to the side at your sudden change in demeanor. “Your Grace?”
“It’s nothing. Just thought I’d visit an old friend sometime.” you tilt your head back as you down the rest of the cup. “Anyways, I think I need something else to wash that off.” 
“Ah, yes. I suppose that does come with consuming salty foods.” Neuvillette nods. “Would you like a different drink? Something aside from water, I mean.”
“Actually, water is good for washing off salt, so I thought I’d ask for more water.”
He holds up the last silver pitcher. “We have Mondstadt left, if you would like to give it a try right now.”
“How would you describe it?” you ask, but you’re already holding out your goblet.
“This particular batch is from Cider Lake.” Neuvillette fills your goblet a little more than usual, most likely to fully cleanse the salt from your palate. “Besides having a crisp and clear feel, I also find that it warms the heart.”
“Oh, wow, guess Venti’s got it nice going for him,” you lift the goblet to your lips and drink.
“I’d be bold enough to say it’s the only thing nice going for him.”
You almost spit out your drink for the second time this day. You turn to look at the Traveler, but they’re busy having a debate with Paimon. That means that the person who said that was-
Neuvillette takes the goblet from your hands and drinks. When you look at him, jaw hanging open still from disbelief, you watch as the corners of his mouth tick up.
“Are you allowed to say that?” you whisper. The Traveler and Paimon don’t seem to have heard, but you sure as hell did.
“I just did, did I not?” He offers a small smile that borders on innocent if it wasn’t so conspiratorial. “I have faith that the Creator will not spread rumors about me, I hope.”
You don’t know if you’d still call it a rumor when he so blatantly did it in front of you, but you end up laughing. You put both hands up as a show of surrender. No way in hell were you telling on the dragon sovereign of Fontaine.
“So, as for our final drink,” Neuvillette offers the goblet back. “What do you make of water from Mondstadt?”
You make a show of finishing the cup all in one go. “Out of all the ones we tasted, I think this has got to be my favorite so far.” 
“Oh? Is it that good?” Neuvillette watches you keenly, awaiting for more details. 
“Yep. It tastes like water.”
Neuvillette chuckles softly, but when you simply offer him a smile, his smile drops. “You… are not joking?”
“Nah. It’s exactly as you say - it’s crisp and clean. It’s how water tasted like back from my world,” you hum in delight. “It doesn’t remind me of anything else but the pure taste of water. Can’t put my finger on whether it’s distilled, mineral, or tap water, all I know is that it’s water for me.” 
“Hmm. Although I want to say it’s rather an anticlimactic ending, I can’t say so. I leave today with the knowledge that there is still a water sample we can similarly taste.” Neuvillette smiles to himself once more. “But that’s enough of that. I believe I’ve put you through enough for today, Your Grace. Thank you for entertaining me and my hobbies.”
“I had fun! Make sure to call me next time you get a new sample, I’d love to have a taste.” You beam at him.
Neuvillette stares at you for a moment - was he waiting for you to tell him it was just a joke? Sure seemed like it - before his smile was back, relieved. You can almost see his little otter tail waving around. “Of course. I already look forward to it.” 
“Are you done now?” 
You take a step back as Paimon suddenly steps into the middle. Her little frown does little to make you feel bad. If anything, it has the opposite effect and you laugh. Her frown deepens at you as you rub her little head. 
“Yeah, yeah, we’re done. We can get a meal now.”
“Woohoo! We're getting meals, plural. Where are we going to eat? Paimon wants some Fontainian Foie Gras!” you follow the fairy as she heads out the door, excited for the prospect of food. And then you pause as you remember.
“Ah, wait. Before we leave. Just one more thing.”
You head back to the food trolley and grab Paimon’s goblet. You make a beeline for a corner in Neuvillette’s office. You noticed earlier there was a small drinking fountain. Gathering enough water into your cup, you take a sip. You turn to Neuvillette.
“Oh my gosh, it’s sweet.”
==✿==|✧••❀••✧|==✿== 
❀BONUS❀
The Traveler and Paimon share an exasperated sigh for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past week. Ever since the water tasting incident, the Creator and Neuvillette have taken to going around Teyvat, trying out different waters straight from the spring of each nation. 
"Why do we have to visit each nation? Paimon thought you could just have them delivered straight to your office!" Paimon leans on the Traveler's head, tired from floating around so much. 
"Appreciating the nation from which the drink came from is part of the experience, Paimon." Neuvillette swirls the water in his goblet, offering it to the floating fairy, who only takes a look at it before cringing away.
The Traveler and Paimon share another look. They know he just likes the opportunity to bond with the Creator over their appreciation of water.
"Are we going back home after this?" Paimon groans.
"I can make you some Sticky Honey Roast if you guide us to Snezhnaya?" You take another sip from your goblet, one made from pure magical ore.
("Your Grace deserves only the finest things, even if it's only dinnerware and the likes," said Neuvillette. "I may also add that a traveling merchant said that drinking from a crystal goblet highlights the taste of the refreshment, as it is free from the taste of metal usually found in a standard cup." You don't mention that you notice he has a matching goblet, right next to a pile of books on his desk. Embedded on it is a familiar seashell.)
In an instant, Paimon is by your side, eyes glittering with determination. "If you cook three Sticky Honey Roasts for Paimon, Paimon can take you to Kh'aenriah."
You lower your goblet and hold out a hand. "Two. And I'll throw in a Squirrel Fish if you find a lake where we can drink from."
"Deal." Paimon takes your hand and you shake on it.
The Traveller flops to the ground and sighs.
They knew they were going to be the one to look for that lake.
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✨ Masterlist ✨
Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.
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the-original-skipps · 6 months
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|| AN3MO BOYS WHEN YOU TRIP IN FRONT OF THEM. ||
I’m back to continue writing for my favorite anemo boys. The idea just struck me and so here I am.
Enjoy.
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❥ Heizou
"Are you hurt? Cause you look like you just fell in love with me."
You could frown in response, staring blankly at him from the ground. He lets out a small laugh as he grabs ahold of both your hands, slowly pulling you up to stand. You look anywhere else but him as you dust off your clothes for dirt. You let out a huff before walking ahead of him.
"I'm already in love with you."
Too bad you didn't look back as you would have seen his breath hitch with shock, his face warming at your words.
❥ Kazuha
"Oh dove, are you alright?"
Kazuha asks, his voice laced with concern as he crouches down to your level bringing his hands to your arms. He looks like he’s the one who tripped instead with how he's staring at you. You sheepishly smile as you return his question.
"I'm fine, Kazuha."
His face remained the same but relief flooded his eyes. He helps you stand up before dusting off your clothes, eyes raking over your body for potential wounds. Your breath hitches as he suddenly rests his forehead against yours placing his hand on your cheek.
"I'm glad you're alright my love."
❥ Venti
"Woahh! Oof-!"
You look to see Venti fall beside you. More like pretend as his timing was just after you tripped. You stare at him in confusion as he lets out an "embarrassed" giggle.
"Looks like we both tripped, ehe." He says as he slightly sticks his tongue out with a wink. You softly laugh at his words before you reach out for his hand pulling him to stand with you.
"I guess we both did."
"I suggest we hold hands to prevent further stumbling." Venti grins as his grip on your hand tightens.
❥ Xiao
The moment you fell to the ground Xiao quickly gathers you into his arms. Before you can protest in confusion you find yourself back to Wangshu Inn, your orbs meeting with with Verr Goldet as she stares at you both in shock.
"We request immediate assistance."
"Wait, Xia-"
"Now."
Verr shakes off her shock before rushing to prepare a room. You protest as you feel your cheeks heating up from the embassestment as onlookers look towards you both in curiosity. However, Xiao's grip on you only tightens as he stares down at you with a serious look on his face.
"You're hurt, stop moving."
You could only gulp in response before shyly trying to hide your face against his chest.
❥ Scaramouche/Wanderer
"Ouch"
You cry out in response as your knees scrape against the hard ground. Looking up your eyes meeting with Scaramouche's who just stares down at you blankly. Yet, is that a hint of a grin trying to creep on his face? Before you could comment he lets out a tired sigh.
"Get up"
You huff as you slowly stand up dusting off the dust that may have clung to your clothes, slightly wincing as your knees straighten. You see his indigo orbs flicker towards your knees as he reaches out to pull you by the arm slowly pulling you along towards a rock for you to sit.
"Sit, I'll see what I can do about them."
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rosepeta1z · 3 months
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A slice of sweets
A/N: this is a very very late happy birthday fic to Wanderer/Scaramouche. Fluff, you call him Scaramouche, small tiny tiny mention of throwing up and gagging. I think that’s it.
Word count: 853 words
Scaramouche hates sweets, but for you, he’s willing to suffer and try.
Today was Scaramouche birthday.
It was just another normal day for him. To him, there was no reason to celebrate his birthday. It was no big deal, especially to him. It was just a waste of his time. He had other things to do. If anything, he just wanted peace and quiet for the whole day.
That would be his birthday wish.
So, why were the students in the akademiya bothering him and trying to give him sweets and cake?
He almost gagged when a poor student went up to him when he was just hiding out in the wild and gave him a small sweet. Anyone could tell it was so sickeningly sweet. He simply gave the sweet a grimaced look and shook his head, giving her the small sweet back.
“I don’t do sweets. Take it for yourself, I don’t need or want it.”
The girl that was trying to be nice gave him a sad look, simply nodding her head and walking away seemingly embarrassed.
Maybe he was a bit too straightforward, but he just couldn’t stand sweets! There was nothing in the world that could make him eat them.
Hours passed by, and the same thing would happen over and over again. People from the akademiya would somehow find him and offer him the same thing over and over again.
Sweets, cake, sweet, cake. He felt like throwing up just by how many times he had to smell and look at the sugar filled stuff they gave him. That, and the fact it was starting to really annoy him now.
—-
After all of that, he finally found a place he could sit and just relax. It was a big tree that gave a nice shadow that cooled him down a bit. It was refreshing and relaxing. This, was his birthday wish.
….
Or was it really? He laid his hat on the side and stared at the sky in deep thoughts.
Were birthday wishes even true? I mean, sure, peace and quiet seem nice. But that’s not his actual wish.
His actual wish was to spend more time with you. You were one of the students in the akademiya, and he was quite fond of you. Unlike the others. You talked a lot, but you didn’t talk a lot where to the point you would blow his ear off from how much you’d talk. You talked the perfect amount, your choice of words fascinated him, the way you talk, the way you look when you talk. Everything about you was perfect to him.
He chuckled at his own thoughts. When did he start thinking about stuff like this? He wasn’t used to it.
Right when he was deep in thought, he heard a branch crack near him. He glanced around him before his eyes laid on a figure. It was you? How’d you find him? Before he could collect himself you walked up to him with a sweet smile on your face. The smile that he secretly loved to see everyday.
“Hey, Scaramouche! Happy birthday, I heard from the other students that you were around here so I thought I’d stop by to give you my own little gift for you!”
You presented him a small case of a slice of cake. It seemed sweet. Too sweet.
But how could he give up a cake you gave him? There’s no possible way that he could.
He stared at the cake, then at you, then at the cake once again. He cleared his throat and managed to crack a small smile before raising his hands to take the cake from you.
“Oh, cake? …Thanks. I’ll be sure to eat it. Though, you really didn’t need to do this much for my simple ‘birth’. It’s not necessary one bit.” He muttered, he bit back what he wanted to say about sweets and how much he hated them. But for you, he’ll accept it. But, don’t expect him to actually eat it. Nope.
“Nonsense, I did it because you’re my friend and I care about you! So much so that I made a cake for you. How about you try it? I wanna know what you think about it.” You happily said as you took a seat down right next to him. You seemed more happier than him for his birthday.
“Eat? This cake?” He so desperately wanted to say ‘absolutely not’, but…for you.. he guesses he could make an acceptation just to see you happy. Even though he hated sweets with a burning passion.
He didn’t want to waste any more time stalling, so he quickly took a bite of the cake and swallowed it as quickly as he could so he couldn’t get that taste of awfully sweet sugar. He almost gagged but put on a straight face for you.
Your eyes sparkled when you saw him try it and give a thumbs up. He knew it would be worth it.
At the end of the day, he did managed to spend more time with you and form a stronger bond. It turns out, birthday wishes do come true.
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kunikuma · 3 months
Text
bare minimum
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relationship | bff!wriothesley x gn!reader
synopsis | as your best friend who was quietly in love with you, wriothesley had opinions about your ex partner. he wasn't the type of man to openly berate your romances, but he did want you to understand you could do better (with him). content | fluff, quiet wriothesley pining cw | none, a/n | the tone of this is so… serious?? weird. i hc him as a great conversationalist. always probing for more details, always making you feel heard. short one, considering a kunikuma fic. im dusting the rust off of my hands and brain.
masterlist
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the duke of the fortress deep under the sea always listened to a specific guest with a coiled fist fused against the fat of his cheek. a curled smile and deepening dimple would grace his visage during this gesture. his other hand would occupy itself by bouncing a pen against the wooden table.
tap. tap. tap.
if he was occupied with drab documents, he would continue scribbling signatures across the sheets of paper; however, the duke would certainly hum or click his tongue in response to the emphatic words slipping from your lips. if the papers in front of him required more of his brain power, the warden would turn down the melody whistling from the gramophone so he could focus on your trill better. 
once, you had come down and danced through his foyer and up his steps, calling out to him about a cute dog that joined you during a picnic. when your words had died down after expelling the details of your tale, he would watched your rapid, excited breathing steady before he probed you for more details.
tap. tap. tap.
‘would you have taken it home?’
‘of course you would. what would you name the little guy?’
‘funny name. what color did you say its coat was?’
‘oh, i'd love a dog like that. you should bring it down so we can meet.’
‘what did you eat during your picnic? i hope you shared with your furry guest. or brought me some leftovers.’
he’d always return your energy in his own charming way, prodding you for more details.
today, you were nestled in the plush seat across his mahogany desk as you curled your digits around a warm cup of tea.
steam from the cup wafted from the delicate porcelain and you blew the floral haze away. your eyes fluttered at the heat rising into the air and he watched the way the sunlight shot through the seaglass to illuminate your flittering lashes.
your fingers drummed against the sides of the cup and he idly watched. his own teacup sat near his work, cooling as the seconds passed.
“okay, i knooow you don’t care, but i gotta tell you about my lil rendezvous with monsieur neuvillette!”
you’d preface most of your stories with the same words, but god you had no idea how wrong you were.
you assumed the tall man hunched over his desk didn’t care about the inane tales you rambled about. 
your introductory words only served as an mechanism to nip the conversation early. if he didn’t care, you graciously bestowed the opportunity to tell you that yes, he did not care about your words.
yet, he never once invoked a feeling of hesitancy before your mouth opened. when seated in this dreary room with the handsome man known as your best friend, comfort was the only thing you knew.
you always provided a way for him to cut you off. yet he never did, and he called you out on it today.
“i find it odd that you say that to start conversations,” he chuckles, watching you cock your head in mild confusion. “what makes you think i don’t care? what gives you that idea?” wriothesley finishes curiously, capping his pen and gingerly placing it on the surface. 
your curious smile had morphed into a purse of your lips as you mulled over your next words.
at your silence, the man teasingly replicates the tone of your voice with a grin. wriothesley hums as he raises his hands; his index and middle fingers bouncing into air quotes, “the ‘i knooow you don’t care, but–’ statement.”
your mouth parts into a teensy ‘o’ as you nod thoughtfully, “well, i’m used to saying that because my previous partner didn’t give me the same energy as you do. like, sometimes they didn’t seem too interested in my stories. so, i’m giving you an out if you’re not interested.”
a perturbed, low rumble erupts from wriothesley’s chest at your explanation.
“…interesting.”
your best friend’s hand falters as he rubs the stubble on his quiet grimace. the hairs catch on the fabric of his wraps, and he makes a note to freshen up.
“i’d hate for you to feel like you were stuck in a conversation with me.” you add with a bashful laugh, mindlessly thumbing the handle of your teacup.
he clears his throat in response to avoid alluding to too much. he had an inkling that’s how you felt, but he found your too-easy response off-putting and almost aggravating. 
at the conclusion of your relation, you ran to the fortress to cry on his shoulder about how little your old partner listened.
you sounded so casual as you smothered how depressing your rationale sounded. 
the duke never liked your old partner, but that was a clandestine topic only he and the iudex knew. he firmly believed he had no place to outwardly express those inner thoughts to you.
besides, your ex wasn’t awful.
just… subpar.
thus, rather than sharing his opinion with explicit words, he decided to show you how a proper partner should treat you.
truthfully, he believed he was just doing the bare minimum.
“huh. well, that truly was their loss,” he starts smoothly with a controlled exhale.
taptaptap.
after another beat, he reaches for his drink from the table as he presses the cool porcelain against his lips to hide a smile.
“you’re quite my little storyteller, and i’d say i’m quite the good listener. you deserve a real partner who listens.”
with the cooling teacup pressed against his lips, it was easy to restrain himself from mumbling additional words he might regret.
heat bloomed in your chest at the unsaid implications of his words. 
his simple words felt warm in your chest. 
so much warmer than the way your partner would respond when they (un)knowingly shut down your joy with their disinterested responses.
while his words were warm, confusion also tugged at your chest. wriothesley was right about being a good listener. he was probably your best person to talk to.
but why did he have to say it?
and why did he say it like that?
you could almost hear him explain his belief about how ‘love should be warm’.
you could almost feel the rough pads of his fingers wipe the rolling tears off of your face when you last wept on his shoulder.
you could almost feel the hesitant hug he gave in return after you wrapped your shaky arms around him.
before you, the duke calmly gathers his papers and tidies the pile with a loud crinkle. while his actions were slow and methodical, his hands shook as a result of his zealous attempt of sprinkling seeds in your head.
wriothesley folds his arms over his chest as he settles into his worn-down throne. 
it was time for a quick break anyway. 
he eyed the way you nervously scratched at the painted flower on his teacup, deep in thought. he watched the pretty gears in your head turn and crank as you mulled over his words.
he chuckles, thinking that he gave you plenty to think about late at night.
“alright, alright. back to business, huh? please proceed and tell me all about your tea party with our favorite monsieur neuvillette.” 
his lips finally curl at the way your inner turmoil seemed to dissipate, or at least pause, at his words. your fingers relaxed around the curve of the porcelain as life flushed your face once more. before you could continue, he chimes in with a little more.
“ah! and no skimping out on the details —especially about the new tea blend.”
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seakicker · 1 year
Note
hello i have returned w priest childe food
as ofc the reader is a naive nun, they had no idea what to do with this growing situation between their legs. in fact, reader believes that this was some sort of force was trying to tempt them away from their duties. considering how well they trust childe as he was the one who took them in, they go to him for help. little would they know, reader would end up bent over the podium, taking his massive cock over and over and over again while reciting a prayer of salvation that he deemed necessary for this ritual
yes yes yes, this indeed... it's easy to feed you lies when it comes to sex and intimacy when he's starting with a total blank slate. he doesn't have to go through the process of reversing or overriding what you already know when you don't know anything... he very well could convince you that children are made when two people who love each other hold hands lmfao
cw: afab + gn reader, reader is a nun and childe is the head priest. religious themes/talk, emotional manipulation, reader is Desperate for approval, dubious consent (reader consents but because of the idea of "i need to do this" rather than active sexual desire), abuse of power/authority, no foreplay/childe pushes into you when you're kinda dry
also crossposted to ao3 if you prefer to read content there.
It is not within a nun’s line of duty to indulge.
Your tiny little monastery bedroom is noticeably devoid of any furniture or decorations beyond your bed, desk, dresser, and bedside book compiling all of the church’s values and teachings in their service to the Tsaritsa. You get by with only what you must; you don’t waste your money on frivolous, unnecessary items to enhance your appearance or show off any sort of social standing. You sustain yourself with simple, basic foods like potato soup and bread; any food item more fanciful would be better either gifted to the homeless or to the Tsaritsa Herself as an offering. 
If you have the money to throw at purchases of expensive clothing, fine dining, or fancy interior decorations, then you have the money to donate to the church or otherwise put to better use than downright wasting it on yourself. 
Just as it is not their duty to indulge in the more tangible pleasures of mankind, a nun needn’t concern themselves with relationships outside of that of the one between them and the Tsaritsa. Needless to say, romantic and sexual relationships are explicitly forbidden— such depraved encounters only serve as distractions from your one true duty: your service to the Tsaritsa. 
Save for the Archon Herself, no figure has been more vital to the development and enhancement of your faith in the Tsaritsa and Her kindness, loyalty to the Greater Cathedral of Snezhnaya as a gesture of gratitude for all the kindness it has blessed you with, and insistence on always being the best representation of Her you can be than the monastery’s head priest Tartaglia. 
It’s hard to remember anything of note from your life prior to joining the Church— Tartaglia took you in about two years ago out of the goodness of his own heart as a member of the clergy; he mentioned that he is but a vessel for the Tsaritsa’s divine kindness and that it is his duty as a direct representative of her to pay that kindness forward. Turning his back on a destitute, helpless being, someone created in the Tsaritsa’s own image at that— you’re just as much a creation of Her as he is—like yourself at the time would have gone against everything the Church stands for. 
A whispered promise to deliver you from the vices and horrors of man and into the warm, loving embrace of the Tsaritsa was all it took for you to accept Tartaglia’s invitation to the Church. You would have accepted any offer of food and shelter at that time— whether or not it was simply luck or divine fate that it was Tartaglia who found you, cold and ill and alone, is beyond your comprehension. As far as you’re concerned, it’s both— who alive could show you more kindness than Tartaglia has throughout the past two years?
In addition to his otherworldly kindness, Tartaglia has shown you no shortage of patience since he took you in and insisted to personally teach you in the gospel of the Tsaritsa and personally train you in all the duties of a good, faithful nun. His affectionate nickname of “little lamb” has stuck with you ever since he first called you a lost one: a wayward, helpless, lost little lamb in dire need of the Tsaritsa’s— and his— guiding hand. He dressed you in the warm, soft dress and robes customary of all nuns, a massive upgrade from the tattered, worn clothes he found you in. When he had asked you if they fit your body comfortably, you didn’t tell him that they felt a little tight around your bust or your hips— beggars can’t be choosers, and all of his teachings of gratitude and thankfulness would go to waste were you to have the audacity to complain about a brand-new, clean, fresh outfit, wouldn’t they? Who on Tsaritsa’s green planet would even dream of complaining about anything when they previously had nothing?
You know better. Even if you didn’t know better before, you certainly do now— Tartaglia’s gentle guidance has taught you at least that much.
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“Little lamb,” Tartaglia calls, resting a hand over yours as you go to flip a page in the Scripture book you’re holding. A chronicle of the Tsaritsa’s historical feats and accomplishments in addition to her dream for all of Snezhnaya, rather all of Teyvat, serves as the basis for the Church’s teachings, and Tartaglia personally ensures that you don’t fall behind on your readings by meeting with you every Monday evening. The desolate silence of the Cathedral after hours serves as the location for these studies— it allows you to immerse yourself in the grandiosity and significance of the Cathedral while you read. 
He clears his throat and repeats himself. “Little lamb, stay focused.” 
You smile sheepishly like a child caught sneaking a treat. “I’m sorry,” you offer, glancing over at Tartaglia’s gloved hand resting on your bare one.
He hums. “Something on your mind?” 
Ah. He’s always been able to see right through you— whereas someone else may have just concluded that you were growing bored of reading after having done so for three hours straight, Tartaglia deduces that your mind is elsewhere. He deduces not that you’re bored of the Tsartisa’s divine accomplishments because you’re a good, dutiful, dignified nun who would never, ever tire of hearing of Her feats. He can confidently assert that you’re everything a nun representing the Tsaritsa should be because he personally taught you everything you know.
Your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. Allowing your mind to wander when you should be focusing on Her teachings is mortifying enough, but being caught daydreaming by Tartaglia is leagues more humiliating. “It’s nothing, I promise. Surely nothing more deserving of my attention than our studies.”
Tartaglia hums again as if he’s in thought then moves to close your book, resting his hand on the front cover. “Well, if it’s important enough to distract you from our readings, then it has to be worth hearing out, right?”
You didn’t think of it that way. Finally forcing yourself to make eye contact with him, you take a deep breath to steady yourself and begin speaking. “It’s embarrassing, really,” you force a shaky laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood… or maybe it’s to distract you from the fact that the useless, wasteful wandering of your mind just caused Tartaglia to end your lessons early. 
“It’s just that I…” Your voice grows quieter and quieter the more you attempt to speak. 
Tartaglia leans in closer, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You can say it, little lamb.” 
“It’s humiliating, truly,” you finally continue. “But recently I… I’ve been having thoughts in need of purging, sir. M-More frequently than usual— they’ve only grown in frequency and intensity since our last cleansing.”
Thoughts in need of purging or, in other words, sexual thoughts that you’ve been taught to never, ever indulge because nuns do not indulge in lust. At first, the thoughts were infrequent enough to the point where you could effortlessly ignore them— even just the slightest distraction buried these thoughts completely. You could opt to sweep the Cathedral or tidy up your quarters and the thoughts would be gone just like that. 
The timeline gets fuzzier the more you attempt to recall it, but you guess that those thoughts first appeared about three months or so following when Tartaglia first took you in. You didn’t actually confess them until about six months into your mentorship under him, and he was quick to offer you a method to truly purge— not just suppress— your mind and heart of these lustful thoughts. 
However, those thoughts have yet to be truly purged. You must be broken— the thoughts have only increased exponentially following each and every cleansing session; whenever you and Tartaglia finish, your thoughts only grow more intense than before and you find yourself caught between the shame of confessing your moral degradation and the guilt of living silently with your thoughts. The idea of confessing that despite all Tartaglia’s patience and kindness with you and the cleansing rituals, your thoughts have only grown lewder and darker and nastier… how would that make you look? How could you ever look him in the eye and tell him that you fear you’re getting worse despite all his attempts to help you get better? 
Despite your internal conflict, you always, always confessed— you’ve probably had about seven of your private cleansing sessions with Tartaglia now. He taught you to never keep sins a secret, whether you actually acted on them or not. 
He doesn’t say anything for a moment— the minute of silence feels like thirty years and you begin to brace yourself for the firm scolding you deserve rather than the warm understanding he continues to undeservingly spoil you with. You wouldn’t be upset if he were to reprimand you or punish you for your incessant sinning— it’s what you deserve more than you deserve even an ounce of his kindness. 
That scolding never comes, however, and once those metaphorical thirty years have passed, he clears his throat, removes his hand from yours, and leans back in his seat. “I understand, little lamb. I’m glad you’re being honest about it.”
“Hey, look at me,” he coaxes. You didn’t even really notice that your gaze fell down to your lap rather than looking up at him until this request; surely it would have been more polite and sincere of you to look him in the eye while confessing the depths of your sins. 
“I’m sorry,” you rasp, hesitantly (and finally) looking him in the eye per his request. “I’m so sorry, sir. You’ve been doing so much to help me curb these thoughts and they still… I still…” 
He shushes you with a soft shh, taking your hand in his once more and smoothing his thumb over the back of your hand. “Sweetheart, it’s my job to help you and guide you. You know that. If I were the type to give up on you for failing once or twice or even a hundred times, what kind of mentor would I be? Little lamb, our cleansing sessions are important to me because I can see that you’re improving.” 
His kindness knows no bounds. Whereas he could have chosen to curse you or damn you for your incessant lustful thoughts, he instead expressed patience and understanding. 
Because Tartaglia is a kind, patient, and understanding man. 
“I guess that means another session is in order, huh, little lamb?” Tartaglia prompts you, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “We’ll continue our readings tomorrow once you’re… less distracted.” 
You laugh hesitantly, having been reminded of the utter humiliation of interrupting your weekly readings before you finished them by being too busy having lustful thoughts instead. You slowly rise to your feet and make your way over to the center podium where Tartaglia conducts all of his sermons— your cleansing rituals always take place right here because it’s, in his words, the holiest place in the entire monastery. 
You’re mortified. Humiliated. Here you are, a stupid wench of a nun who can’t seem to learn how to properly behave despite all of Tartaglia’s attempts at helping you. How long will you continue to test his patience, reverse his efforts, and take advantage of his kindness? When will you ever, ever learn? 
The sound of Tartaglia’s chair sliding against the cool marble floor alerts you that he’s ready to begin as well. He makes his way over to you and stands just behind you, a strong hand settling reassuringly on your hip through the thin cotton of your floor-length standard dress. 
He chuckles in a manner you’ve never heard from him before. There’s an unsettling sort of darkness in the way he laughs, his right hand gripping your hip and the left seizing hold of your chin to turn your head slightly towards him. Were you in the position to even dream of questioning him, you would probably find yourself unnerved by the sound— but you are in no position to doubt the man who’s shown you nothing but kindness since the day he met you. When you’re a lowly, sinful, wasteful little nun, you don’t have the right to doubt a man leagues more powerful, wiser, and well-versed in the Tsaritsa’s teachings than you are. 
These are not the depraved cackles of a man outside of the Church’s influence staking claim on a pliant, unwitting toy. Tartaglia would never steer you wrong, he would never do anything outside of your best interests as an aspiring member of the Church, he would never hurt you. 
Because Tartaglia is a kind, patient, and understanding man. 
He caresses your chin and hums a hymn you recognize from his sermons. “I must admit,” he whispers, gazing at you with an expression you couldn’t begin to decipher— it’s some mix of rueful bitterness, anticipation, and sadism. “I’ve been guiding you for two years now, and to see progress this slow… it does make me wonder if you’ll ever learn,” Tartaglia breathes against your lips, grinning salaciously in a way wholly unbefitting of a priest. “It’d be wrong of me to deem one of the Tsaritsa’s subjects a lost cause, but…”
Chuckling again, he releases your chin from his grip and traces a thumb up the swell of your cheek. Is he checking for tears? “But you?” He finally continues. “I’m starting to wonder if you’re even able to be redeemed. If it’s gotten to the point where you can’t even focus on your usual readings… maybe you’re just not cut out for this sort of thing, huh?”
Practically immediately following the last syllable that leaves Tartaglia’s mouth, a pained gasp escapes you and your eyes go wide with a sort of frantic horror. “No! Please, no, I’ll do— I’ll do anything!” Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you beg him, plead him, implore him to help you— you really, truly would do anything to remain in the Tsaritsa’s— no, in his— good graces. 
He says nothing when you drop to your knees before him in a desperate display of submission, clumsily knocking one of your feet against the base of the podium. A tear falls from your eye and you don’t stop your body from throwing itself at his feet, clinging to the sweeping skirts of his robes like a lifeline. “Please, sir,” you wail pathetically, sobbing and sobbing and sobbing as if your filthy, self-victimizing tears will wash away the grime of your sins. 
While not undeserved even in the slightest nor totally unexpected, his sudden cruelty has you feeling more terrified than anything you’ve ever experienced in your life. Has he finally run out of patience? Has the dutiful, kind, intelligent Tartaglia who took you in when you didn’t have even a single mora to your name grown fed up with your stagnating progress? Have you gone backwards despite all the sessions you’ve gone through with him? Is he beginning to view his decision to take you in as a mistake? Is he going to brand your salvation a fruitless endeavor, forsake you, and throw you back out onto the streets of which he first plucked you from?
No. You won’t let that happen. He’s given you so much and you won’t let all of his time and efforts go to waste— you will improve. You will not simply indulge in his kindness while keeping it from changing your heart; you will take his teachings and allow yourself to be born anew as the spitting image of a follow of the Tsartisa. 
“Please forgive me,” you wail weakly, throat already feeling hoarse. With your mind gone and your desperation controlling your body’s autopilot feature, you bury your face in the fabric of his robe and continue to cry and cry and cry. 
Unbeknownst to you, Tartaglia smiles. 
“I forgive you,” he notes simply. “But you’re not trying to earn my forgiveness, are you? You’ll need to work for Her forgiveness if you’d like to really show me what a sweet, dutiful nun you can be. 
I forgive you, he said. You suck in a shaky breath and do your best to quiet your body-wracking sobs into tiny, pitiful hiccups and coughs instead. Tartaglia looks down at you with all the empathy of a stranger passing a wounded animal on the street and you buckle against him, your arms wrapping around his legs. 
“Let’s not waste any more time, alright?” Tartaglia says with a grin, prompting you to bashfully apologize again and clumsily rise to your feet. He doesn’t need to ask you to bend yourself over the podium because you know the process plenty well by now— the cleansing ritual involves partaking in behavior nuns are typically required to swear off, so if that fact alone doesn’t inform you of the desperation of the whole situation, nothing will. If Tartaglia deems it fit to break your vow of celibacy— and you would never even dream of questioning the logic behind this— in order to purge you of your sins, then you’ll accept no matter what. 
He hums in approval at your obedience. You catch on quickly… it’s a shame that you don’t truly internalize his teachings and learn quickly. 
“It’s okay, little lamb,” he reassures you, gently clutching your dress and lifting the fabric slowly until he’s exposed your ass to the cool Cathedral air. “You’ll do well tonight— just as you always do, right?”
You will. You’ll do so well tonight. You’ll behave and perform better than you ever have because you need to— it’s one thing to mess up your first time and a whole different thing to mess up your eighth time. You won’t let Tartaglia’s guidance go to waste, you won’t allow yourself to go to waste so long as he sees potential in you, and you won’t give up as long as Tartaglia continues to view you worthy of molding, changing, and shaping into the ideal nun. 
It’ll be okay. 
It’ll be okay. 
It’ll be okay. 
Slowly working your white panties down your thighs, Tartaglia gently parts your legs wider by knocking his foot against your ankles, all but kicking you open to give him some room to work with. You don’t feel as wet this time as you have in past sessions… does that mean your body’s ridding itself of all your sin and lust? He taught you that wetness is a sign of your body’s cravings, and if you’re no longer growing wet… that’s a good thing, right? The thought alone fills you with hope that you are not, in fact, a lost cause. 
The initial push of Tartaglia’s cock into your entrance hurts. You don’t deduce that it’s because you’re not all that wet this time— no, you decide that it’s because your sins are finally leaving your body and because nothing worth having ever comes easily. The pain is a sign that the ritual’s working as far as you’re concerned… and you breathe a shaky sigh of relief amidst your whimpers of pain as he continues to push inch after inch of himself into you. 
“Thank you,” you wheeze as your body attempts to relax around him. “Thank you for taking pity on me and… guiding me.” Just as you bent over his podium without being asked, you clasp your hands together in prayer before Tartaglia can ask you to— if you want to show him how obedient and receptive to his teachings you can be, it’s now or never. 
It hurts, but you don’t complain. Why would you ever complain when he’s trying to help you? Why would you complain when this is surely your body’s way of notifying you that your sins are leaving it?
“There you go,” Tartaglia grunts, cursing under his breath because you’re so fucking tight— he’ll have to remind himself that you’re not really one he can skip foreplay with, especially not when you’re this much of a wreck. “I knew you could do it, little lamb. I’ve always believed in you, you know. I’ve always thought that you’re special.” 
You barely have the mental capacity or rationality to compare these praises to his prior comments about you potentially being a lost cause. 
Your body adapts quickly enough— the stress of the somewhat dry entrance causes your body to quickly overcompensate, producing enough juices as possible in a limited timeframe in order to allow Tartaglia a relatively comfortable slide in and out of your pussy. He figures that nerves are to blame (or thank, in his case?) for your sudden insane tightness, your pussy squeezing up so tight he can barely manage to pull out. Oh sweet Tsaritsa, he thinks with a sleazy grin. This sort of nun is the best there is. 
“Your prayers, little lamb,” Tartaglia reminds you, grinning when you gasp out another apology for being so pitifully forgetful. It’s a prayer he himself wrote just for this occasion; just for you— that should prove the depths of his love and concern for you enough, right?
Nodding your head in understanding, you bow your head down to hang between your arms. “My Royal Highness, the divine Tsaritsa,” you begin quietly, crying out for Tartaglia when he blesses you with a thrust so deep you feel it all the way in your belly. “I plead for Your forgiveness. Forgive my transgressions and pardon my sins. Though I—” 
A moan of Tartaglia’s name falls from your lips and cuts your prayer short. Your priest seizes hold of your hips and all but jackhammers into you from behind, slaps resounding throughout the empty Cathedral as you pitifully attempt to complete your prayer amidst the sinful, sinful pleasure Tartaglia’s drowning you in. 
“Though I,” you repeat yourself, starting the sentence from the top. “Though I may be imperfect, and though I may act in ways unbefitting of a pupil of Yours, I beg for Your forgiveness.”
Another hard thrust has you faltering, and you fight off your instinct to unclasp your hands from their prayer position and grab at the podium for stability. Tartaglia’s hands grip your hips harder and harder to the point where you swear you can feel his fingernails through the fabric of his gloves.
“I vow to always act in a way befitting of Your image.” You squeeze your hands together so hard they begin to shake, your breath coming to you only in staccato gasps and strained whimpers. “Amen.” 
As you finish your prayer, Tartaglia hums in approval from behind you and rubs his hand over your ass in a soothing gesture. “There you go,” he praises. “You did such a wonderful job. I told you that you grow better and better the more sessions we have… perhaps we should make these part of our weekly routine rather than sticking to a case-by-case basis, hm?”
Whatever it takes to reach salvation and prove yourself to him. He’s such a busy, busy man and him taking time out of his schedule to read Scripture with you is already more than you deserve, and here he is, offering to cleanse you of your sins weekly and keep you at your absolute purest. 
Would it be sacrilegious to claim that Tartaglia’s kindness surpasses that of even the Tsaritsa Herself? 
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