#lynette's love for desserts
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"Lynette!" Lyney bursts into the living room with uncharacteristic clumsiness. Leaning against the door frame, Lyney looks like the perfect image of chaos. Little streamers erupt from his pockets and tiny fireworks explode, crackling from under hat and sleeve as he stumbles through the doorway.
The ominous smell of smoke begins to taint the air.
"Lyney, you know what the rules are about magic props inside the house," Lynette chides, blowing on her tea meticulously without looking at her brother.
"Is something wrong...Lyney?" Freminet asks hesitantly, unsure of how to breach the topic.
His older brother huffs dramatically, staggering over to the couch with comically elongated steps. Freminet has to remind himself that this is his older brother, Lyney the Magician, the responsible team leader they all look up to and admire.
He takes another look at Lyney's frazzled expression and decides that now might not be one of those times.
“Oh it’s horrid!” Lyney whines, “the show’s all falling to pieces now!” He exclaims, shoving his face into a cushion. Freminent glances at Lynette, who’s determinedly ignoring Lyney and eyeing a slice of cake on the table.
“Leave him be,” she says when she notices Freminent’s silent cry of help, “he’s just being dramatic. Lyney pull yourself together,” she scolds, carefully slicing through the cake with a fork, “you’re making Freminent worry.”
“Oh my dearest little brother! I had no idea, please forgive me for causing you grief!” Lyney monologues, in a manner not very different to how Lady Furina would deliver speeches, “but this is a matter of utmost importance, I’m really in a pickle.”
“Lynette, maybe…” Freminent begins, watching as his sister’s tail flicks, “hm? Oh alright,” she says in an exasperated voice, “Lyney, use your words. What. Is. It?”
“I,” Lyney begins, delighted to have an audience, “have a problem!”
“I’m delighted to know that you have gained self-awareness,” Lynette replies dryly, reaching for another slice of cake, Freminent watches her and knows that a scolding from Lyney is imminent, but keeps his mouth shut.
“Oh Lynette, how could you be so cold to your dear brother?” Lyney continues to complain, he rests his cheek on the cushion and sighs.
“Are you going to talk about your problem or not?”
“All in due time, there’s no need to be impatient,” Lyney retorts, Freminent blinks, clutching Pers a little tighter as he gets comfortable.
“See, it goes a little like this,” Lyney begins wistfully, “I’ve been experiencing something quite phenomenal you see,” he says, eye turning round, “my hands have been sweating a lot, and it’s like my heart is about to go–” Lyney snaps his fingers and miraculously, a shower of blue coloured butterflies erupt from his fingertips.
“Like that!” He waves his hands.
Freminet nods, “I see,” he says, absorbing himself in the storytelling.
“Just get on with it,” Lynette says, delicately pouring herself another cup of tea, her ears pricked in a very satisfied manner.
“Well!” Lyney continues unoffended, “my brain has also been going fuzzy and I’m finding it hard to focus…no matter what happens, I just keep thinking about the same thing. But sometimes I’m giddy and all mushy like–”
“Please don’t,” Lynette interrupts, “it’ll be a hassle to clean up later.”
“Oh just this once, please Lynette, please?”
Lynette sighs, “fine.” She says, with unamused eyes.
Lyney grins and melts himself onto the couch, “I’m melting like sugar, or one of those chocolates that dissolve in your mouth!” He proclaims, and throws a sweet at Freminet who catches it, “Caramel Melts; nothing like a melt to give you a little help,” he says slowly, reading the cursive print on the wrapper.
“Where did you get this from?” Freminet asks curiously.
“Unimportant,” Lyney says dismissively, “I’ll get you some more if you like them though, but anyways, all of the symptoms listed above,” Lyney unravels a scroll and unrolls it with a flourish.
Freminet should be used to Lyney’s tricks by now, but he’s still amazed at the fountain pen that begins writing by itself, “sweaty hands, strange emotions; mushiness, unreasonable amounts of joy…” he stops reading.
“All of these,” Lyney points at the scroll, “are what I believe are symptoms of…” he pauses for dramatic effect.
“That’s right! These are none other than…signs of heart stroke!” Lyney says proudly.
There is a long, fat silence.
The floor is very interesting, Freminet decides, and these shoes have a spectacular shine, I should really polish them some more, he thinks to himself.
“Lyney,” Lynette says, breaking the heavy silence, “you’re not going through heart stroke.”
Thank archons, Lynette is here! Freminet doesn’t think he’d have the courage to say that to Lyney’s face, in a manner that wouldn’t make Lyney even more melodramatic.
“What!? Then what is it?” Lyney asks, rising from the clutches of the plush couch for the first time.
“My diagnosis is…” Lynette pauses for dramatic effect, and Freminet swears Pers is listening attentively too.
They all hold their breaths.
“You’re in love, Lyney.” Lynette announces, taking a long sip of her tea. Freminet’s eyes widen, but it doesn’t compare to the heavy thud he hears and the long, loud shriek of, “WHAT?!” That echoes well and truly wonderfully throughout Hotel Bouffes d'ete. From then on, the urban legends of Fontaine often speculated about a most inhuman ghoul or perhaps, troll that was being kept hidden in the Hotel basement.
Not that such rumours could ever be proven.
“Let them imagine,” Lynette would say, sipping her tea nonchalantly, “a little shock has never hurt anyone,” she glances at Lyney, who’s been sitting on his chair with a stunned expression on his face. Indeed, Lynette helps herself to a macaroon, perhaps the next step is to give Lyney a little push, after all, a gentle nudge has never hurt anyone either.
#lyney#lynette#freminet#fontaine#lyney is in love#lyney the sap TM#god he's so cringe but i love him#misunderstandings galore#nothing like a good old realisation to kick off a fanfiction#lyney x reader#lynette is so very done#freminet is very concerned#pers as moral support#starring my oc as the reader insert (will be introduced later)#love#lynette's love for desserts#honestly same girl#the funny is the dramatic concerned and exasperated trio#lynette has no time for your bullshit#comedy#i should sleep#this is a cry for help#sincerely lynette
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PLEASE ( DON’T ) BE MY WINGWOMAN !
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 his female best friend tries to help him win your love, but knowing her, it all goes wrong
feat. lyney, neuvillette, ayato ( separate )
note. gn reader, features : lynette, furina, ayaka. hello i am officially back and also officially 21 !! :]
LYNEY.
“Oh, woe is me! Please assist, my dearest sister!” The magician sat sprawled atop the couch quite dramatically, backhand over his forehead feigning feverish feelings. “Whatever shall I do when the God of Romance is plotting against a hopeless romantic, such as I?”
“What’s wrong this time?” By contrast, his sister’s voice proved no fluctuations, tone lacking the honeyed sound he needed for sympathy. Instead of catering to his sorrows, she instead sipped lightly at her tea, for it was far more relaxing than her brother’s ‘woes.’
Still, Lyney sighed. “The love of my life—my soulmate!” he cried out. “How should I win the affections of my other half, when I can’t even grasp the scale of romantic favor?”
“Desserts.”
Lyney sat up. “I beg your pardon?”
“Give desserts,” Lynette shrugged. “Everyone likes desserts.” This reasoning totally made the most sense to her.
She watched as Lyney started at her blankly for just a moment, and then he inhaled sharply. “So I should… use desserts as my gift…” With each passing word, Lynette watched as a staggering excitement in his voice grew tenfold. “And then, if I keep giving their favorite treats”—Lyney gasped—“they’ll start to associate the sweetness with me! Oh, Lynette, you’re a genius!”
Lynette blinked at him. That strategy explanation was not what she said at all, but whatever. Not her problem.
But when Lyney dragged her by the hand to go purchase desserts, and then forced her to sit down at the cafe just to watch him gift treats to you, then maybe it was her problem.
“A very special dessert!” he presented, and Lynette sat with disinterest as she watched your eyes light up at his cheap old appearance trick. “For a very special person.” And now came her own eye roll—caused by the way Lyney giggled to himself at the end of his own sentence.
Maybe it was charming ( but personally Lynette didn’t see the appeal ), because there was a sparkle that appeared in your eyes in admiration of him. And suddenly, Lynette didn’t understand why he was trying to win your love at all, because it’s clear to her that he’s already won it.
“This is for me?” she heard you say. “This is actually my favorite! Oh, Lyney, you shouldn’t have!”
“Don’t even worry,” she watched Lyney wave off. “It was given to me for free at the shop”—Huh?—“and I have no space for it”—What was he…?—“so I thought you might like it!”
Lynette blinked to herself. Then she blinked to herself again. And then one more time, and now Lyney was back to her spot with you no longer in sight. “How did I do?” Lyney excitedly questioned her. “A good start, right? Step one of your idea to get my crush to become obsessed with me is complete!”
Okay first of all, that was literally not her idea, but maybe she should’ve communicated it better. And second, “Why did you lie? That dessert wasn’t free—You specifically bought it to give to them.”
Lyney immediately raised a finger with that confident smirk of his. “Because, my dear sister,” he began, “it’s called playing hard to get.”
If she could sigh, she would. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am! And I’m taking this game very seriously, too. Do you know how hard it is to keep my cool when I’m around the love of my life?!”
“Playing hard to get just makes it harder to get someone, Lyney. They might lose interest and move on.” But still, Lyney insisted. And still, Lynette just silently rolled her eyes.
The next time this happened was literally only a day later. So much for playing “hard to get,” she supposes. Perhaps Lyney didn’t quite fully understand the scope of how suspicious it was to offer you another “free dessert” only a day later. Or, he was just so lovestruck he absolutely could not wait to talk to you again.
Lynette decided the answer to be the latter option.
And once again, he claimed not to buy this dessert on his own, and Lynette did not miss the obvious eyebrow raise you gave her brother this time. You were still grateful since it was your favorite, of course, but it was rather clear you were beginning to question this. Lynette sighed to herself.
“Lynette!” Lyney called excitedly once he left you. “Oh, dear sister, did you see it this time? She stayed with me a bit longer—grabbing the plate much more slowly. She must have been at the start of falling in love with—!” Lyney stopped when he saw the empty seat. “Uh, Lynette?”
Farther away, you suddenly yelped in surprise, almost dropping the plated dessert in your hands.
“Sorry,” Lynette mumbled. Oops, she didn’t mean to scare you. But… maybe appearing in your field of sighs so suddenly once you turned a corner and coming from a darkened alleyway was not the most subtle.
“It’s alright,” you brushed of. “Oh, you must be Lynette, right? Lyney’s sister!”
“Correct.” Ah, how would she bring this up? She was never really the best with words… And definitely not when she had to use a lot of them. “Um, my brother,” she started. “Don’t mind him being weird.”
At the mention of her brother being weird ( perhaps she should defend him, but whatever, he was being weird. ), you seemed to relax. “Yeah…” you trailed off. “He’s been giving me these desserts lately—didn’t seem too coincidental that he keeps getting them for ‘free’… Especially since they’re, um, not even having a promotion right now.”
Again, if Lynette could wack her brother on the head right now, she would.
“He likes you.”
The sudden shock on your face tells Lynette that maybe she shouldn’t have said that so bluntly. Or that she shouldn’t have said that. At all.
“You’re a very dear friend to him,” she correct. Oh, wait, but she didn’t want to completely shut off the idea of romance. Correct it again, quick. “Or, very dear person… Yeah.”
You stayed quiet for a moment, probably trying to process the amount of confessions and corrections she just shot at you. Archons, you probably thought her and her brother were so weird. Unfortunately, she couldn’t blame you.
“Thanks, Lynette,” you said, and she noticed your feet shift to walk away. “Actually, I think I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
Well, Lyney certainly hoped you would. She just silently watched as you walked off. But she wasn’t worried, no. As long as you spoke of this “next time,” Lynette was sure her brother would eventually succeed with you, even if he was being weird at this game.
NEUVILLETTE.
The thing that gets Furina the most excited—absolutely elated, much shown in the way she kicks her feet and patters her fingers—is the fact that her dear Iudex has no idea he’s so in love with you.
To not only her, but also the rest of Fontaine, word is quick to spread with the simple way his feet always end up turned in your direction, or how lips curve a slight upwards motion when he speaks to you. Or, the way his feelings of admiration brings out the colors in his eyes, and the shyer tone in which he laughs along with you.
And Furina, being the bestest of friends she certainly is, only wants what’s best for the Chief Justice, truly! It’s such a downer seeing him be a quiet, unsociable, hard-to-get-along-with loner all the time. And so, the moment she catches wind of his feelings, she is more than quick to come up with a way to loop the two of you together.
She pats herself in the back. She’s confident that he’ll totally thank her for all her efforts later.
This confidence still yet remains even when she has you standing up nervously on trial, wide eyes a bit scared to be accused of a crime by the Hydro Archon herself. And Neuvillette atop his seat looks exasperated, much so in a way the audience is always eyeing him with fluttering eyes and chattering whispers—because the Iudex is looking at you with such a public display of concern that he has never been known to show another on trial.
Oh, she could already see the Steambird’s morning headlines! Chief Justice Neuvillette casts eyefuls of worry towards the accused?! Or, The Iudex’s rumored lover: Accused by Lady Furina?! —Oh, oh! She was so excited!
Amidst her internal giggles was when Neuvillette’s cane came hammered down on the wooden floor of his balcony seat, silencing every voice in the Opera Epiclese. “Furina,” his voice scatters as firm as ever, though the Archon could some people gasp to themselves—Ah, she could always trust her people to spot even the slightest difference in his voice; He was clearly angrier today! “I believe you have some explaining to do.”
“Is it not obvious, my dear Iudex?” she loudly proclaimed as if acting in a performance. Her voice was playful and teasing as always, and she could tell Neuvillette was much more annoyed by it than usual today. “I am pressing charges against a darling citizen, yet a criminal over here…!”
And that was when she threw the back of her hand over her forehead for dramatic effect, making you only more nervous upon your stand. Such an increase in your fear was clearly noticeable to the Iudex, of course, as he immediately spoke to silence the Archon accusing you.
“And what would those charges entail, Furina?”
There was a sudden glare in his eyes, almost threatening. But oh well, nothing he could do—She knew he would stick by the law and allow her to make her claim anyways. This was so easy, she could almost laugh to herself!
“For…”
Oh, celebration was already at the back of her mind!
“Murder!”
…Holy shit. Oh Archons. She was supposed to say theft. “Theft,” for stealing Neuvillette’s heart. But instead she slipped up and said murder.
Oh, she can’t take that back now. But… But no worries! She was the beloved Archon that had absolutely no issues performing for her people—ergo, she could totally come up with a new plan! Certainly, a single-word slip-up will surely not mess up her entire pickup line here.
“Yes, you heard me,” she played along, hands balling to fists and dramatically sitting at her hips. “Murder!”
“Furina!” Neuvillette silenced from his place below on the podium. Never before has she seen his facial expression this angered. There was a furrow between his brows that betrayed his usually calm and emotionless look—and aw, she thought it was so romantic for him to show these emotions so outwardly just for you! The audience must love his display of passion right now—all to defend your honor! “What is the meaning of this?” his voice boomed.
Furina cleared her throat. “Murder…” she began to make her case against you. You, who looked up at her so fearfully. She almost felt bad. “For… For breathing…!” Wait, that’s not what she meant. “No, no, like murder… of breath— of my breath— no, of Neuvillette’s breath, I mean—” Okay, at this point, she just needed to spit something out. And that was when she raised a finger, pointing it accusingly down at you and making her claim: “You killed Neuvillette!”
The next instance was filled with a silence so deafeningly powerful that she felt her own stomach churn and her knees grow shaky. Well, this was definitely an embarrassment she hopes to never feel again.
Surely, this silence wasn’t awkward enough for her land the finishing blow…?
“Like, you stole his breath away…” she tried. “So you technically killed him.”
Okay maybe it was time for her to shut up.
Neuvillette’s face; oh, he looked absolutely furious. This was not the picture-perfect sight of cherry tomato blushing she was hoping for here. And you: a horror-stricken disbelief. Your mind looked like it was racing to comprehend both being charged with such a serious crime, and having the Chief Justice just randomly outed in public for… having a crush on you…?
Meanwhile Furina stood still in her usual place, just about ready to curl up and die from her failed attempt at a love confession. But before that, perhaps Celestia heard her prayers.
The audience pretty much erupted in girlish screams and whispers—all those watchful citizens of Fontaine who treated your relationship with Neuvillette like the hottest topic of the century, like the storybook romance they were reading obsessively. And now, Furina watched—watched as your expression contorted to slow realization that maybe your Archon wasn’t exactly lying about Neuvillette’s feelings, and that maybe almost the entire nation was already romanticizing you two.
And then, there: that was when Furina watched as your face blew up an expression of pure embarrassment, all the fear being completely wiped away. Then Furina could almost die when she turned her gaze to Neuvillette—who was still watching you very intently—and how the ends of his ears turned a blushing red.
Oh, this view was priceless. Once again, perfect Focalors saves the day!
KAMISATO AYATO.
Thoma clicked his tongue. “Tall and awkward.” He squinted his eyes. “Practically unrecognizable in Inazuma despite your status.” Then, he tilted his head. “Absolutely terrible at small talk.”
Finally, Thoma nodded his head. “Yep, you don’t have a chance, my Lord.”
Thoma yelped as a paper fan hit his shoulder, and that was when Ayaka slid at the seat next to him. He made a quick apology to her, but when Ayaka looked across the table, she saw how her older brother didn’t seem quite phased at Thoma’s mean evaluation at all.
Instead, he seemed to be really considering what was told to him.
“Oh, brother,” Ayaka caught his attention. “Don’t listen to Thoma, he was only being mean. Personally, I think you have a good chance at winning this date!”
“No, no, Thoma might be right,” Ayato pondered. Aw, Ayaka didnt like it when he doubted himself. “All of those traits may make this date go horribly wrong—I might end up appearing as undesirable…”
Ayaka frowned. She may not have a love life of her own, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t watching her brother’s love life like an Inazuman drama act or like a romantic storybook. And the fact that Ayato has downright fallen tremendously hard for you—who Ayaka also loved dearly, and who she admired so much—makes her pray to the Archons every night for your relationship to set sail.
So Ayato scoring this first date with you was already a big deal on its own. Only… He wasn’t quite sure what date plan would make him the most appealing man to be courting you.
Of course, who else could he turn to, other than his darling best friend and sister? Ayaka certainly had no expertise in this, but if there was one thing…
“Brother, please take this!” Across the table, she shoved a stack of just a few papers, slightly faded and lightly wrinkled, into his hands. He blinked in surprise at them for a moment before squinting at the rushed handwriting that clearly did not belong to his sister. “The Traveler gave this to me; It’s a recipe for a pizza dish from Mondstadt!
And that was how she ended up here, watching with Thoma from the sidelines of the estate as Ayato gives you the friendliest smile can force upon himself as he offers to make the both of you food. Now, the last time Ayaka tried this, she blew up the oven with the Traveler in earshot. But surely, she knew her brother had much better survival skills than she did, and there was no way he would ruin a perfectly easy pizza recipe.
But then Thoma almost burst out laughing from their secluded hiding spot, and that was when she noticed her brother bringing out not one, but instead two platters of pizza. A rather odd aroma in the air. Oh.
“I thought we’d spice things up!” they heard Ayato say to you, clasping his gloved hands together and regaining his weird, excited smile and that equally weird, excited tone in his voice. Oh brother… “One pizza is normal, and the other pizza has random toppings I threw on it—as a taste test!”
And when he set the two down, it was… quite interesting. One was a normal mushroom pizza, cooked based on Traveler’s recipe: Ayato certainly made it much better than Ayaka could’ve attempted. But the second pizza was topped with a rather colorful palette: lavender melons, sea grass, and what looked like Sea Ganoderma. Ayaka and Thoma already found themselves gagging at the smell.
When Ayaka glanced at her blonde companion, he was furiously shaking his head at her, running a thumb straight across his throat as if saying “It’s over for him.” And honestly, Ayaka might have to agree this time. Maybe she should’ve never given him that pizza recipe or that cooking idea.
“A ‘taste test’…” you echoed. The two eavesdroppers heard shifts from your side do the table, meaning you reached forward to grab a slice—they quite obviously guessed you picked the regular mushroom pizza. “The host should go first, don’t you think?”
Oh? Did that mean you were interested in this game of two after all? Ayaka’s eyes practically lit up—She was so excited for her brother!
“I’ll take up that offer of yours,” Ayato chuckled lowly. And with no gag or hesitance at all, he takes a large bite with a whole unsavory mixture of the ingredients entering the cave of his mouth. “Mm, not bad at all.”
You were visibly surprised by his calmness, now reaching out to grab a slice of your own and biting it just as he did.
But almost immediately, that bite was spat right back out onto a napkin at the mere taste of this weird concoction. “Bleh, Lord Commissioner! How did you manage to eat a whole slice?!”
The first thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed: The way you said this was amidst laughter. You were laughing, and it even sounded like you were smiling. Because whenever Ayato tried this sort of gross mixing method with Thoma or Ayaka, they would also say the same line of disgust, but in an unfavorable way. But, no—You sounded genuinely lighthearted?
The second thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed ( from even the slightest of peeks ): The big, bona fide grin on Ayato’s face at your reaction. Oh, he was absolutely eating this up, as no one ever showed a positive reaction to his weird little hobby before. And of course, being partnered with the fact he was ( not-so ) secretly in love with you, only made it so much better for him.
“It was alright, I’d say!” he spoke excitedly, a hint of an uncontrollable laughter and uncontrollable smile laced in his voice. “It had the most memorable texture, and the taste felt like I was in touch with mother nature.”
You only scoffed at him in a joking manner, “None of those ‘compliments’ of yours weren’t inherently positive, Commissioner.”
To that, he gave you another big grin before silently reaching to eat yet another slice of this suspicious pizza. Well, Ayaka supposed her brother’s weirdness landing a perfect date with you, after all. And then she pat herself on the back—because maybe, giving him that recipe was the best mistake she could make.
// not proofread ;; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNIER THAN INTENDED. BUT IM BAD AT BEING FUNNY :(
#neuvillette x reader#ayato x reader#lyney x reader#kamisato ayato x reader#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#genshin x gender neutral reader#lyney fluff#neuvillette x you
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✦ how can you tell? (of how easily i fall at your feet.)
⎯ oh, how love bleeds from just one gesture. ( some telltale signs that they might've fallen for you. )
#STARRING. neuvillette, wriothesley & lyney ft. gn!reader. { 2.4k words }
#TAGS. sfw, fluff & crack, major pining (!!!). more: neuvi has 1 extra part bcs i realized too late, wrio is a rascal /aff, lynette is a professional wingwoman here (everyone, applaud!!), mentions of various fontaine npc's.
#P/S. pardon my rusty writing and ideas but alas, may i entice you with some fontaine gentlemen on this fine day?? (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) ੭
★ 〜 masterlist.
© seelestia on tumblr, apr 2024. please do not repost to another platform, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.
⎯ neuvillette's love is subtle, hidden behind a veil of formal courtesy. the iudex is the nation's symbol of impartiality; personal relationships, a common factor of inciting bias in one's judgement, are to be sifted through wisely. he can choose which he ends up keeping, yet he cannot choose which he ends up wanting. what of a relationship he desires but cannot keep? a conundrum but still, his affections for you seep through the crevices.
it's in the way. . . your name becomes a beloved among the melusines, you wonder why?
it goes without saying that every citizen of fontaine acknowledges melusines to be friendly creatures. all of them are sweethearts! ...but is it you or is there some form of hidden favoritism here?
for some reason, they always seem to go out of their ways to greet you on the streets. a “hello, mx. [name]!” from the right then a “good day, mx. [name]!” from the left. maybe a “stay safe, mx. [name]!” on days when it's crowded too... you're starting to think the quota of greetings you receive is much bigger than everyone else.
before long, even your arms are getting piled up with favors. one ticket for a seat in the opera epiclese from aeife, a slice of cake from sedene, some high-quality butter from muirne, a free beverage from menthe — you lost count of the freebies you've received already.
what's going on? it is as if there's a badge of approval from someone just hanging over your head. visible to a melusine's eyes, but not to yours. (you've heard that melusines perceive things differently than humans, though.)
but who are you to complain? you're not immune to their contagious smiles each time you pass by. on some days, you even entertain the thought that they are more familiar with you than you are with them. all in a humorous sense, of course.
ironically enough, this theory wouldn't take long to ring true: having received a bouquet of your favorite dessert from café lutece on your birthday from kiara, this coincidence only feeds into your suspicion even more.
a considerate gesture but surely, they don't do this for everyone? you don't recall ever telling your usual order and birthdate to a melusine before. your mind scrambles around for a memory you might've missed. who could've—
“oh, yes... i almost forgot,” kiara holds her chin in thought. “monsieur neuvillette says to send you his regards,” she nods, relieved that the message did not make its narrow escape from her mind. but blissfully unaware of the impact her words have left on you.
“goodbye, mx. [name]!” the melusine bids you farewell with a cheery wave. you murmur back a response but it comes out incoherent at best — you are simply too dumbfounded by the realization.
...so, that's who.
(wait a second, is arouet in on this too?!)
it's in the way. . . he begins to take longer breaks, hoping to run into you in front of the palais.
taking quiet strolls just outside the palais is, more often than not, neuvillette's idea of rest from work. although some might expect the iudex to have chosen a more 'creative' or luxurious location, but he digresses.
this place is near his office so less time is wasted on the journey back, liath also patrols here so he has the opportunity to inquire about her well-being — and occasionally, he stumbles upon you as well.
'occasionally' is the keyword: neuvillette has always preferred order and routine above chances and coincidences. but something about this idiosyncrasy — the tendency to linger beyond his usual duration, the act of stalling to hold onto hope that you might pass by today — is a indication of hypocrisy he wishes not to comment on.
sometimes, he closes his eyes so that his ears may be more attuned to the sound of your voice. sometimes, he opens his eyes so that they may look around for a glimpse of your face. who's to say if he'll ever be graced by your presence? it is all in fate's hands.
call it an odd method of manifestation, a childish one that even neuvillette scoffs at himself for. sometimes, it doesn't work, of course. not that he ever expects it to — but oh, when it does.
“...monsieur?” your voice cuts through the silence in his mind. he takes the sight of you in; a polite greeting on your tongue, several grocery bags in your arms and that beam on your face as you say, “what a coincidence to see you here.”
the iudex finds that he doesn't mind having his privacy briefly interrupted. not at all. not when it's like this, not when it's by you. alas, it seems that fate has smiled down on him today.
“yes, hello. what a serendipitous coincidence indeed.”
neuvillette smiles, he can't help it. perhaps, he might grow a soft spot for coincidences, after all.
(you sneak a brief glance at the sky with a squint. ...is it just you or are the clouds clearing up a little?)
⎯ wriothesley's love is beguiling, the kind of adventure that keeps you on your toes. a forthright gentleman; he is the type to know what he wants and he wants you. with him, you'll taste whiplash like never before. butterflies in your stomach, the urge to throw a shoe at him, you'll get it all. but an adventure isn't an adventure without breaks in between and it's at that very moment where you'll find you adore him the most... when he rests his head on your lap, momentarily free from worldly titles, breathing like the man who longs for warmth that he has always been.
it's in the way. . . he always offers you tea when really, he just wants you to stay.
everyone knows that wriothesley enjoys his tea — but that's only because he sees no need to hide his preferences; not his craving for a cup of tea when afternoon arrives nor his fondness for you either.
he doesn't conceal it, but doesn't bring attention to it either. wriothesley likes to think that only those with discerning eyes can pick up on the miniscule (???) hints he drops. that is, if saying “why not stay for some tea?” is even considered a subtle clue at all... maybe, he's mixing up polite courtesy with flirting a bit too much.
but who cares? in the grand scheme of things, the fun is seeing whether you'll figure it out or not. and let's be frank here; wriothesley is a patient man in all aspects, able to play the long game like no other.
don't worry, you may take as long as you want to — ironic since you're technically the only player in this 'game' — but hey, he has faith in your abilities! besides, you get to enjoy a cup of free tea (and with his company, preferably). surely, you can't complain about that? ...hah, he's just teasing you.
tick-tock! tick-tock!
the clock strikes twelve in the afternoon.
“ah, finally a well-deserved break.” the tone in which wriothesley pairs with that grin on his face is nothing less than devious. the glance he throws your way as he set aside the documents on his desk is something. or rather, it's suggesting something.
and frankly, you've experienced this many times enough to know what the underlying meaning is. “let me guess...” you let out a sigh, “you're asking me to have tea with you again?”
the emphasis on the last word is definitely, wholly intentional. you're sure wriothesley knows that too — “bingo,” he hums at you, sounds almost like a whistle. “you're getting more and more clever. must be all the tea i made you.”
“don't flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes at his attempted jest but you take a seat on his office couch, anyway. your own unique and adorable way of saying yes, he learned. still, wriothesley thinks that exasperated look on your face is an absolute marvel... and maybe, that little smile tugging on your lips you're trying to fight, too.
“same as usual?” he asks, pushing back his chair with a proud grin still plastered on his face that you wish you can wipe off.
but instead, you shake your head fondly at his antics. “mhm,” and rest a cheek on your fist. watching him tiredly, you realize you could get used to this. maybe.
wriothesley smiles to himself. looks like you figured out the tea has always been an excuse, after all.
(you've won the game, congrats! a subsidiary reward is a comment from sigewinne about how this tea routine between the two of you bears a resemblance to an elderly human couple's. she means it, innocently sincere.)
⎯ lyney's love can be faceted at first, one with such a smooth surface that you never imagined there would be so many layers underneath. joy and bliss, sorrow and burdens; all cramped and stuffed together behind his mask of perfection on the stage, a mask akin to a child's treasure chest almost bursting at the seams. you can unravel him if you tried, you can take off that mask if you reached out. and when you do, you'll find beautiful violet eyes staring right back at you, thankful, imploring you to go further.
it's in the way. . . his bravado dissipates around you, nerves scattering like confetti that bursts from his hat on stage.
they say that the first impression is the best impression — or at least, lyney hopes that's the case with all of the interesting impressions he has left on you so far. his instinct by nature is to impress, to bedazzle and that hasn't stopped since meeting you for the first time.
trying doesn't always lead to success, however. you stuttered in front of them twice, lynette pointed out after the first time he spoke to you. that fact spooked the poor magician so much he stayed up rethinking the conversation under the cover of his blanket. lynette isn't wrong per se, but lyney firmly believes that he will leave a better impression... one day, somehow, no matter how many times it takes!
he is a magician; charisma and charms should have or rather, already have come easily to him. his persona on the stage is no lie — just a tiny concerted exaggeration, maybe — but you've been among his audience before. you've seen what he is capable of. so surely, you'd know that lyney isn't really as demure and easily flustered as you might think he is... because no punches held back, he acts like that every time you talk to him.
he can't help it and that, exactly, is what makes it worse.
how many times have he cupped his face and mumbled nonsense into his hands for failing to impress you yet again? you're so wonderful and he's just so... miserable. this is unlike him. he has to wonder why you still look for him after each performance when you know you'll be greeted by his being a wreck.
maybe they like you that way, freminet tried to help. or maybe they like you no matter what, lynette chipped in. that had lyney pondering for a long, long, long time which translates into weeks.
will the day come where he presents you with a rainbow rose and professes his feelings for you without losing his nerves? he can only hope (and try, one day).
it never gets old.
when his feet step off the stage and the curtains have fallen, the satisfaction that spreads all the way to his fingertips never fails to disappoint. but with that, also comes the imminent feeling of anticipation.
for each performance he delivers, a visitor is bound to linger. when all members in the audience would head to the entrance of the opera epiclese to leave, one of them would stay. waiting patiently to be beckoned to the backstage. it's been a routine for so long, after all.
“lyney?”
right on cue.
your voice greets his ears, a sound that he can admit he misses only to himself. he exhales, a placating act to shush his beating heart from growing any louder.
“ah, [name]!” the magician enunciates your name with a certain type of fanfare. “here to lend a hand again, i assume?” he tries to shoot you a confident grin, but you aren't gullible enough to not see the tint of red blooming on his cheeks.
you stifle a chuckle at his (attempt at a) bold opening. “of course,“ said with a nod and a silly thought along the lines of: he's cute.
your honest and calm response takes him by surprise. he blinks a tad. oh, it seems the thrill from the show a few minutes prior still hasn't worn off. perhaps, he's still all too used to the crowd's shouts and cheers... not that he expects you to start yelling, of course!
“i see,” lyney feigns a cough to recollect his composure. now that he is cognizant of the fact it's just the two of you, he shrinks down into a more casual version of himself with a nervous chuckle.
“will you... be staying for long?” he asks, bashful. the question sounds more genuine than just a mere pleasantry. his eyes look hopeful, twinkling at the thought of having your presence around. his fingers have even come up to scratch at the side of his neck, you don't think lyney even realizes he is doing that.
who are you to say no? you smile. “well, my schedule's pretty empty today.”
his lips instantly break into a grin, brighter than one he usually has onstage. “that's actually marv—” he starts.
“that's great,” a familiar monotonous voice cuts in. lynette peers from behind you with a hum, “we could use more hands to pack up the new props.” oh, and that brief glint of mischief in her feline eyes as she watches how lyney gapes at her sudden intrusion.
“sure!” you glance back at her, oblivious to it all. “thanks for letting me in, lynette. i'll try my best to help.” even if you admit that one of the reasons you're here is for lyney, but you can't discredit his twin sister for allowing you to enter here in the first place. a free backstage pass in exchange for free labor, quite a fair deal.
with your back turned to him, lyney takes the chance to mouth his own words of disbelief to lynette. incomprehensible except for that one i can't believe you're doing this! that she manages to catch.
“no problem,” she observes her brother over your shoulder with keen interest, “everyone knows how fond lyney is of you.”
there is a series of spluttering noises behind you. a certain magician finds himself at the verge of choking on mere oxygen.
“lynette!”
but really, she has no doubt that lyney has fallen head over heels for you. hook, line and sinker.
— thank you for reading! reblogs and comments are most appreciated. ♡
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#neuvillette x reader#wriothesley x reader#lyney x reader#neuvillette x you#wriothesley x you#lyney x you#genshin fluff#genshin impact hcs#genshin impact x you#genshin imagines#seelestial.inks
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『♡』 Besotted
♡ featuring: yandere!ajax x f!reader
♡ summary: the love of your life knows you without asking, selfless and caring. however, you're slowly starting to realize the man you loved was a mask of the truth hiding underneath. wc: 12.5k+
♡ cw/tw: modern au, mentions of violence/blood, mentions of suicide, stalking, obsession, possessiveness, manipulation, rough sex, sideways sex, cockwarming, mating press, cunnilingus, drugging, overstimulation, praise, pet names (lots of them tbh)
notes: im so sorry i know it took me a long time but my time has been consumed by exams and its finals week soon so ahhhh. it's going to take me a little longer than usual until my semester is over, forgive me!! art by jam8366_dday on ig! <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!
“Caramel macchiato for… Katheryne?” Your quiet voice deadens among the bustling crowd of businessmen, secretaries, and construction workers alike conversing through their morning wake-up. It’s incomparable to the serene appeal of a corner coffee shop—piled high with board games and books, the nooks and crannies decorated with some sort of trinket or knickknack you collected along the way, baubles that brought you joy and spread some to anyone that entered the cozy hole in the wall—“The Mad Hatter”. People are free to add stickers to the cash register, so convoluted with color similar to graffiti, including the pink-hatted cat Lyney glued to the top. Coffee tables share space with buoyant sofas, opposite of the display case viewing a multitude of extra sweet desserts and breakfast sandwiches. At night, the fairy lights bordering the wide veiled windows glimmered a dim hue that made feathery snow sparkle like stars during winter. You set the coffee under warm lights dotting the ceiling, emanating above the wooden interior. No one is finicky for your tastes; you are happy to see the familiar cheerful or grumpy faces entering the shop. You remember names, faces, and minute personal details they’d forgotten they shared over a steaming cup of latte left to warm because the art was too pretty to drink. They’re busy, but patient; they've acquainted you long enough to not be angry at the wait, and most times come to your defense against unruly customers.
It's the worst—or for you, the best—in the afternoons, swarming crowds waiting for an afternoon pick-me-up. You and Lyney work to the best of your ability, serving up group orders with a quickness unparalleled by nearby chain coffeehouse’s. You regard it as your passion, although your parents were disappointed when you told them you and Lyney would be buying and renovating an abandoned property states over all for coffee; your delectable drinks have the potential to form long lasting relationships between you and other customers, and there’s a certain creative merit you relish whenever a guest takes pictures of the swan-like artistry foaming on the surface. The taste of bitter beans sparks moments of merriment, longing, and love—in some cases, it’s the best form of intimacy.
Your best memories live in this shop; the ground powder that scattered everywhere and painted Lyney like a chocolate sculpture when he tried to push the inventory to the highest shelf or staying up after close in the middle of a blizzard to make flimsy homemade decorations for the grand opening with help from Lynette.
It’s extra special that the very place you stand is where you found the love of your life. You met him at the register, loose curls dipped in autumn tones spilling over his long lashes. The void in his eyes motionless like the ocean before a low tide. You both stared at each other for a moment, taking in the lines and details of your flustering faces. You must’ve been staring for too long, as Lyney tapped your shoulder with a side eye that alerted you to the awkward silence and line heading out the door. You fumbled for apologies and took his order; the ginger boy chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck—Ajax—such a rugged name for a pretty guy. You prepared the Frappuccino with a drizzle of affection bespoken for him. When you gave him the drink, his hand grazed against yours, a kiss without lips. It left you breathless, and with an airy coyness he said, “I didn’t get your name?” You told him, and he tried out the sound on his tongue. You wished he’d say it over and over. With a rosy wash across his cheeks, “A fitting name for your beauty. Have a good day, (Y/N)” was all he said before he walked away, leaving you stunned and smitten. Lyney was the unfortunate victim that dealt with your wearisome fantasizing about Ajax.
But Ajax already knew your name. And address, and friends.
How could he not? When he saw you hanging lights in the windows on a particularly sunny morning that made your glowing face shine with pure radiance unrivaled by deities, he sunk endlessly. He vowed to walk at a distance at that same time every day to ogle your lustrous hair, your soft skin that didn’t break a sweat, the curve of your lips. You soon became an itch he couldn’t scratch, a plaguing thought that wiggled in the wrinkles of his brain and made it hard to sleep or work. You, you, you. Is your laugh a heavy snort or more lighthearted, do you have the same sense of humor as him? You’ll like what he likes, think what he thinks.
You were constantly on his mind, he wondered if you were eating when he ate or how good you were sleeping as he drifted off to his. It’s not his fault that he snapped discrete pictures of your smiling face, you were too adorable to ignore. He valued coming home to kneel at the little shrine he made of your printed gaiety, surrounded by consistently fresh roses and citrus candles he thought you’d smell like. If he stood close enough, it was like you were right in front of him. The apron tied around your waist was a vibrant crimson—his favorite color. It's fate, the way the stars aligned and sent angels down to bless you with a pinafore of his approval. You had to know he was out there; he was already imagining returning to a cheerful home, and your swaying hips as you whipped up a glacé delight. He’d kiss you on the cheek, and you’d pop a tart blueberry in his mouth. Yes—it had to be this way, it must be what you wanted, too.
Ajax coincidentally found himself rummaging through trash cans in the vicinity for an inkling of receipts from the shop. He stumbled upon it, of course—it’s not like he waited out until nightfall right before garbage day to have the highest chances of finding identification. The jagged fragment of a receipt led to your family, social media, and blogs you dedicated to your baking progress. And he’d monitor the sites on different screens with multiple tabs, an infatuated glaze over those dull eyes that kept him glued to the updates for hours. He made many accounts, liking your posts fervently with flimsy justifications of encouragement. You became reachable day by day.
The day Ajax decided to pursue you upfront, it was a dream he hoped never to wake. He’d rehearsed it obsessively until the moment he stood in front of the glass door, a tremble in his restless legs at the thought of looking ridiculous. Seeing you up close felt like a special occasion. His heart was beating off-kilter in his quaking chest, as if jumping free fall out of a plane, and he held his breath until it opened. The confidence he mustered up before he got to the register did little to suppress the giddiness rolling in his veins. His pulse paced the closer he got. Two more orders and there you were; the center of his universe, and you didn’t know it yet. Pictures didn’t do you justice—no, he needed to see your grace preserved in museums depicted in rich Renaissance paintings onlookers could only fantasize holding or loving, but you’d be for him, and him alone. He drew a blank. “May I get your name for the order?” His eyes flickered with a brand-new luster, it melded certainty and delusion.
She wants...my name.
My name.
The sweet harmony of your words lulled Ajax to an addicting turbid spiral that swept fondness through the tempest and scattered infatuation in its aftermath. A feeling too tenacious, it must be love. The incessant burn urged him to protect and guide you to him. You need him. Now he watched compulsively with a winded jaw, your smile to other men who couldn't compare to his devotion. They don’t know you like he does. He could map out the corners of your house from the slim backgrounds of your blog posts or name every club you’ve participated in since middle school. Hunger spread where his fists craved contact, like sunfire corroding the taught skin on his knuckles. They’ve breathed your air and existed in your presence. It’s undeserved, they’re unworthy.
How fucking dare they.
How lost you must be without him, led astray by intruding greed; he selflessly assumed his responsibility. You are his, after all. So, he stalked behind cars shadowed by harsh streetlamps to ensure you got home safe and intercepted your packages to check for threatening substances. The accomplishment he felt whenever he completed his—in his words, “duties”—instilled exultation beyond any memory. Within the envelopes, he’d leave an elegant note embellished with hearts hinting at his infatuation and the care he put in to maintain your safety. One letter turned to two, then five, to the point where you’d receive a sleeve stuffed with increasingly unhinged letters from your secret admirer that fanned out when you tipped it.
On Christmas Eve, a limitless cloak of frozen stardust decided to flurry right before your shift ended. You covered Lyney’s shift so he’d have time to spend with Lynette and Freminent; it wasn’t like you had anything to do afterwards. You counted the flakes of the storm through frosted glass, thinking about the wellbeing of your family back home. Mailed gifts couldn't console the grief you felt during the holidays. A knock on the door turned your attention to the silhouette of a man wearing a slouched beanie with a pompom on top. You unlocked the door, and it swung open from the whirling heft of wind and smattered white across the wood from empty streets.
“Sorry, we just closed-” You looked up, no time to register the freckled face from months ago, that stole your heart with a smile. Icy grains kissed his cheeks, as red as apples, and fused to the wool scarf draped around his trench coat. “Oh! Hello, again.” You tried to play it off, but the crack in your voice teetered. You were suddenly nervous. Ajax grinned hard and shuffled slightly inwards to escape the chill.
“Hi (Y/N)! I was really hoping you weren’t closed, it’s a good day to grab a hot chocolate, y’know?”
“It is. You’re probably freezing, please come in.” You should’ve been home by now, but for Ajax, you could spare a few minutes. He unraveled his winter attire to reveal a tightly fitted turtleneck and took a seat at the chair closest to you. You wrap around the counter and start the kettle, struggling with what to do next at the gaze gripping your mind. “One hot chocolate, coming up.”
“How much I owe ya?” he chirped, arms resting on the table while he watched you grab two mugs. “No worries, it’s on the house. Consider it your Christmas present.”
“I appreciate that, thank you. You really are kind...Lyney left you by yourself tonight?” You wondered how he knew Lyney’s name when they hadn’t met, but quickly brushed it off.
“Yeah, I wanted him to spend time with his family.”
“And you don’t have any here?” You didn’t retain your usual weariness towards acquaintances. On this lonely night Ajax didn’t feel like much of a stranger.
“Nah, moved away to start this.” Your hands gestured to the quaint interior. Ajax scanned his surroundings, marveling at the scenery before he spoke. “What you’ve done with this, it’s lovely. Your ambition and dedication are apparent from the way you treat the customers, I can tell you’re passionate about what you do.” Your body flared like summer and succeeded in hushing the breeze. You poured a cup full of thick cocoa and plopped a dollop of whipped cream on both. “It’s not much, but-” the mugs settled on the table, and you sat across from him. “It smells amazing, (Y/N). You’re an expert at this” he interrupted. You traced the rim with your finger and rested your head on the other hand.
“Thanks...I assume you don’t have family here, either? Think you’d be ripping open gifts by now if you did.” He took another sip. “Yup, they live in a different country. I should visit them soon” he sighed and glanced at the jumbled wool scarf. “Did a sibling make that for you?” you asked.
“Yeah, my sister. A parting gift.”
“It’s beautiful, she’s very talented” you remarked, admiring the delicate fleece. The bittersweet smile in response stuck to your heartstrings. “She is.”
You both drank in silence and occasionally met each other's eyes, only to turn away. Something unsaid hung in the air. "Winter has a way of making us reminisce. It’s so depressing” you confided. You hadn’t told Lyney, but you were terribly lonely these past months. You replaced your emotions with extra shifts, but they came crashing down in the darkness of your bedroom. Ajax gazed at you like he could see through you.
“The sky appears magnificent under the snow's embrace. Its purity is like the moon's gentle radiance. I don’t think there’s anything like a world covered in snow" he soothed. His words flustered you, and you homed in on the white trails dancing in your lukewarm cup.
“I’ve never thought of it like that. I used to hate snow. It feels...intruding, I guess.”
“But if we don’t allow ourselves to be intruded, how will we love?” he blurted. It was comforting to hear in the moment, and you returned his smile.
“Is the hot chocolate good?” you asked.
“It’s perfect.... you’re perfect.” You chuckled at the notion, mistaking it for pity. “I’m not perfect.”
“But you are. The way you carry yourself, your intelligence, your courtesy. You’re flawless, gorgeous inside and out and you don’t even notice.” The way Ajax looked at you, on the verge of his seat and studying your face, lips, and hair. You couldn’t deny the flattery that drowned you and dragged you the more he persisted. “How would you know from one encounter?” His mouth fixed to say it, the truth, but he tight-lipped and reached into his coat pocket instead. He grabbed a blue velvet box and slid it to you.
“I wanted to give you this. Ever since I saw you.” It felt expensive under your fingertips. You unclasped the front, and it opened to a twinkling pendant. It was a cable chain dangling an oval sapphire gem, with 18 karat white-gold halo sunbursts surrounding it. It’s breathtaking, as if stolen from the tomb of a goddess.
“Wow, this is...stunning. Ajax, I can’t accept this; it’s too much” you pressured. You’ve never received a gift of this caliber from anyone, it didn’t feel right to look at it.
“Consider it your Christmas present” he repeated. You shook your head and held up the box to hand it back to him. “I can’t, I shouldn’t-”
“Please” he pleaded. He clasped your hands, a reassuring thumb gently caressing yours. You were so focused on its extravagance that you didn’t notice the note stuck to the roof of the box. Refined script dotted with hearts; the same style as the hundreds in your closet. Your mouth gaped.
“This letter...you...have you been the one sending me all those love letters?” You should've had your suspicions, or the urge to back away, but you weren’t afraid. You tried to string together his ability to find your address or mail, or how he knew Lyney, but your brain couldn’t clear the fog of feeling loved after so many years. It’s a warm hug to the blood that instinctively ran cold. Your heartbeat’s fast, half with anxiety and the other with desire.
Ajax solemnly hung his head and retracted his hands. He fidgeted with his thumbs. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you, I thought about being upfront, but I was so scared of your response and I didn’t want you to hate me, so I thought maybe if I sent them anonymously you could start liking the person behind it or if I played my cards right you’d find out who it was...but that doesn’t make any sense now that I’m thinking about it, I just wanted to be near you. You’re so amazing and smart and beautiful, I just...s-sorry…I’m rambling. I hope you can understand; I-I didn’t mean to harm I just want to make sure you’re safe” he choked. The strained words tumbled over one another and broke in places, where they traveled off at the end. Ajax averted your eyes, pools of tears threatening to fall from the corners. The sudden mood change took you off guard, and you reached for his guilty hands. You were on the verge of divulging your entirety for him, be it the isolation of the big city or lack of attention. He didn’t seem like a bad guy; he might have been misguided. What’s the harm in giving him a chance?
“It’s okay, Ajax. I’m not upset, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered” you giggled. “The letters are sweet, I read all of them. They make me feel a little better about living in a shithole apartment. Thank you.” He looked at you, bottomless intensity searching for more. “I’m interested in you, too” you added.
“Then you’ll be my girlfriend?” It was phrased as a question but arrived as a proclamation. “...I would love that.”
Ajax moved around the table. You rose to wrap your arms around his neck while he squeezed your waist with his head lying on your shoulder. The duping tears vanished like they didn’t exist, and his shameful expression morphed into a conniving smirk stretching unnaturally in his triumph. Your authentic touch, the smell of perfume wafting in his nose. It’s not citrus, but it’s you. You, everything is you. This is how things were meant to be. His eyes curved like arches from sheer elation, biting his lip to stifle the cackle. You’re together, at last.
The snow stopped some time ago, but the blizzard was just beginning.
Your relationship with Ajax progressed fast after that day. A weariness dulled within you after you came to your senses from your prior confession, and you weren’t sure about the stability of his neurotic nature. However, when Ajax showed up with a bouquet of the loveliest flowers you’ve ever laid eyes on during an exhausting shift, it shined above all else. He showers you with consistent love and attention and worships the ground you walk on with doting devotion. He's clingy and somewhat suffocating, but his sick adoration blesses you with rose-colored glasses; you’re divinity on a golden pedestal in his eyes, and if he fell hard, you fell harder. The considerate, caring, good listener he is makes the small hiccups go over your head. In the first few months you were unequivocally enamored, the kind that tied your universe to his. You patter about him to Lynette, who gives you half-concerned approval at the story of how you met and the “little things” you cherish.
Like when he allowed you to move in without a second thought. The paint chipped around dodgy windowsills and fraying carpets, and your landlord wouldn’t pay for the fixes. Unfortunately, you needed a place to stay and couldn’t afford to speak up about the horrible conditions. You were used to your slumlord at that point, but the absence of working heat and busted appliances led you to the arms of your boyfriend, sobbing about the stress your landlord subjected you to. He scooped you like fragile glass as you faltered through shaky breaths grating your lungs and hushed your distress. Kissing your head, he rubbed your back and mumbled into your hair. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of it...I’ll take care of everything.”
A week later you’d found out that your landlord died from a gruesome suicide, and all tenants had to leave the auctioned duplex. Ajax took you in, and you began adapting to his midtown townhouse. Though you felt like a mooch at first, the welcoming interior had you snuggling between his downy bedding in no time. He shouldered your burden, accepted your genuine self and lavished generous replacements of the items you couldn’t carry. You don’t lift a finger around him, and he readily cooks and cleans for your comfort.
You’ve gotten accustomed to his presence. When you wake, he’s either watching you sleep silently or preparing food for you to take to work. Ajax follows you around like an obedient pet, smoothing your hair and highlighting how beautiful you look in your rough post-morning wake-up state. He’ll try to kiss you before toothpaste, and you playfully mush his disappointed face off to get dressed. He compensates by kissing in other places, your clothed knee as he ties your shoes or your hands when they interlock. Prior to departing, he attaches that sapphire elegance to your neck. You grab your tidy lunchbox and stroll together in the early hours of the morning for your opening shift. “Have a good day, baby” he says, and places sugary smooches from your lips to your forehead and back again. You’d stand there forever, embracing his warmth if your alarm didn’t notify you to start prepping.
When Ajax isn’t around, and you’re busy piping frosting onto cakes, there’s a profound hole in your happiness that can’t be filled with buttercream. The way his nose scrunches when he laughs hard, and those hot honey strands tickling your cheeks when you sleep because his face is directly on top of yours make you crave his sight and touch. Sometimes you ponder what you’ve done to deserve someone so over the moon for you. Hell, you’d give him the moon if that’s what he wanted; it’d barely cover a fraction of the benevolence he’s evinced. For now, you blink distraction away, and there's spread sloppily piled over the cakes and countertop. You simper to yourself; such a handsome, tender handful.
Your daydreams carry you through close, and you and Lyney remain as you wipe down tacky tables with rags lathered in disinfectant. You’re circling surfaces with vigor, quick to move to the next. You hear him laugh from another table. “Okay, speed cleaner. Missing your house husband?” he teases. You roll your eyes and pretend to throw the rag at him. “Hurry up, I wanna go home.” He fake cowers and throws his hands up in surrender. “Yes ma’am. Don’t waste all your strength, Lynette will be upset if you can’t dance with her tomorrow.”
“I’m not some old woman, Lyn. I can party.” You force away the memory of sleeping on Lyney’s shoulder in the lounge area of a booming club.
“Sure, grandma. Don’t forget your cane when I pick you up” he jokes. You chortle, and actually throw the rag this time. Too bad his agile form dodges it. “I gotta let Ajax know.”
“...Right.” Lyney loses momentum and stares at the steaming bucket for a pregnant pause, stirring the rag to buy time. You glance towards him, and he shifts a peccant look. You turn on your heels and lean on the back of a chair.
“Spill it” you demand.
“Spill what?”
“What you actually wanna say.” Lyney bites the inside of his cheek to physically restrain the itch that vents brutal honesty. “I don’t think you’ll like what I have to say.”
You narrow your brows and sigh in disbelief. “So what? We’ve been friends since high school, just tell me.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and gulps a deep breath. “Lyney.”
“It’s about Ajax” he exhales. “Oh.”
“I’m worried about you.” You weren’t expecting the serious air, it sounds like an intervention. It's unnatural coming from your easygoing friend.
“Really? Why?” you question. He blinks for a few moments, dumbfounded at the innocent audacity, or willful ignorance.
“Some of the stuff you say about him...it creeps me out. How is it not creeping you out?” he stresses, gawking at the exorbitant gem.
“Hmm, I’m not sure what you mean.” To you, Ajax isn’t the scary type. Mysterious maybe, but his affection prevents you from seeing him as anything but the missing half of your soul.
“Okay. You don’t remember telling me how he kept that rotting coffee cup from when you guys first met? Or how he watches you sleep? He made your favorite meal first try and called it a ‘lucky guess?’” The more he goes on, the more disbelieved he becomes.
“I think it’s romantic” you chide. He expels his frustration.
“(Y/N), I'm not saying any of this to be a hater, but all of this is unhealthy. Unhealthy might be an understatement. I mean, the man acts like he can't live without you. What if you were to break up, can you be sure he won't lose his fucking mind?” The hypothetical calamity of separation sinks seeds in puddles of doubt. It’s not possible.
“We love each other. That won’t happen.”
“It’s been over a year, and you know nothing about him. He comes out of nowhere, sweeps you off your feet, love bombs you, and you take it at face value. Maybe he truly is the one and it’s love at first sight, but this whole situation is...odd. I care about you, (Y/N), and this guy scares me. He’s hiding something.” You attempt to formulate a fact you’ve learned about him, a detail to prove how close you’ve gotten, and come to realize there’s none in your reservoir. You know naught of his friends or family or wealth. Ajax tells you safe verities, like his favorite food and hobby. You don’t thirst for personal space or secrets when it comes to Ajax, and the stygian plunge in his eyes gives you no hints, but you believe the pleasing words that escape his lips either way.
You glance at the empty Tupperware on the counter, that was once packed with a hefty sandwich and strawberries carved into hearts. He's effortlessly adorable, a small berry-stained note with a simple phrase: "you'll do great today <3". Your dream man, he wouldn't hide things from you, you won’t fathom the thought. “I-”
Ding
That dazzling toothy gapped grin spreads warmth across your chest and the room instantly feels a bit brighter. Ajax saunters like he owns the place, engulfing your frame in his stature and placing a kiss on your head. Lyney freezes though Ajax ignored his existence. “I’m getting ready to leave” you muffle into the musky denim jacket. He nods, but his action won’t follow his hands sturdy on your waist as you shimmy out. You make haste to the back room, past the pantry dry goods and collect your sweater and bag.
You’re about to push open the swinging door when you pause, catching a glimpse of Ajax and Lyney through the oval window. They don’t normally interact in the same space, and you thought it best to respect their boundaries. Ajax is turned away from you, but you can see Lyney clear as day, a stone solid unease skipping on his skin that makes calculated breaths too obvious. It’s silent enough to hear a pin drop. His arms are stuck to the sides, and you observe the apron jumbled in his clutches shaking ever so slightly. He’s trained to the hickory grain of the floor, and from a small portion of Ajax’s visible face, it’s a dreadful expression unbeknownst to you.
There’s an almost tenebrous loom towering over Lyney, and you feel an alarming shiver settle in your lower spine. Were his eyes normally this gloomy? Your heart rate palpitates when it shouldn’t. You want to look away from the swirling dark depths possessing your soulmate, shooting daggers at your friend. His jaw is clenched to popping, veins on his neck and hands chasing bone. He has a lethal grip on Lyney’s shoulder, and the rough tension pulls at the wrinkling undershirt. But he sneers—a twisted, coiling kind that doesn’t match his glare—an impersonation of affability.
“Ajax” you mutter softly as you sway the door. He turns sharply, and it’s like a flipped switch. The rage decays to ash swiftly and he’s yours again, your adoring admirer. “I'm ready.” He waits for your approach and tangles your hands. You make your way out, freeing Lyney from capitivity. He holds the door open for you to leave, and you shout “Bye, Lyn! I’ll see you tomorrow.” A shell-shocked cast on his face, he doesn’t say a word.
You sit at the dining table, feeling disconnected from reality while the kitchen rises with a clatter of pans and glass. You scroll through posts on your phone and occasionally peek over at the corridor to watch Ajax work. His passion shows when he cooks, rocking the skillet to upturn the veggies sizzling within. His broad back flexes with skillful movements, and he looks at you, winking with a teasing pucker on his glossy lips. You giggle. I was just imagining things.
He slides the plates on the table and sits across from you. Ajax sits like a giddy child waiting for you to try their creation, and you take the first bite. The bountiful flavor dances on your tongue. “It’s really good!” you muffle through bites. A tinge of pink sets on his cheeks. “I’m glad you like it.”
You chew haphazardly out of focus. You can’t help but notice how quiet your phone has been since you’ve moved in, it feels foreign in your possession. Not a single call from your friends came through, forgotten and invisible. You contemplate apologizing to Lyney tomorrow, it was wrong to get defensive towards compassion. Ajax interrupts his eating to track your fork picking at the meal.
“You okay, sweetheart? You aren’t eating.”
You awake from your trance. “Huh? Oh, nothing. Just feels kinda off.” Ajax’s back straightens, and he tenses throughout at a semblance of negative diction. “What does? The food? I’ll remake it” he stumbles.
“No no, the food is great. It’s, I don’t know. I haven’t got a call from Tiggy in a while.” The corners of Ajax’s mouth contort.
“Really...I heard he’s been hangin’ out with some new people.” His tone is dry, it strives to be nonchalant. His elbows rest on the table, and he carves his knife into bloody steak like struggling living bone.
“So, I guess that means he can’t message me anymore, huh” you chuckle. He twists the knife deeper, as if it’s digging in his back. “He’s just a bad friend honestly. Not consistent, you even said he missed your birthday last year. Who needs a friend like that?”
“I guess.” Meanwhile, you flip through your contacts searching for Tighnari’s name; come to find out he’s nowhere in your phone. In fact, a lot of messages and numbers seemed to have dwindled over time. Your own parents, vanished. Perhaps you were so overworked you’d forgotten they deleted. You start scouring for his profile, but it doesn’t come up. You can’t imagine Tighnari wiping out his entire presence, and it’s not just him. Outside him are the piles of male friends you seldom locate, and you become flustered at your blindness. You look at Ajax, and his eyebrows quirk up to inquire about your confusion.
“That’s so weird. I should try calling him-”
“Don't.” It’s not suggestive, its one note, stern demand. It rings in your ears, and when that mask slips for a terrifying moment, you hold your breath until it recurs. “’S not that I don’t want you to, honey. He clearly doesn’t care in the first place, that’s not a sign of a good friend. I’m just trying to help; you know I always have ou- your best interest.” There’s an unrelenting pit in your stomach telling you it’s wrong. “You seem tense since we left, Ajax. Are you alright?” He stops, it leaves you on edge when a formidable shadow casts over his eyes from his bangs that make them look as endless as the bottom of the sea.
“I feel like...you’re straying away from me. You’re becoming more secretive. Have I done something to violate your trust?” You don’t consider how Ajax knew Tighnari, let alone how he’d find the password to your phone. It was your fault, it had to be. The solemn quiver of his lips clears your suspicion. You’d forget it all to see him happy again. You stand and sway to his side of the table, sitting on his lap to take his face in your hands. “Not at all, babe. My phone’s been acting up, I didn’t mean to accuse you. I just asked because you and Lyney looked high-strung. ‘M sorry.” You kiss him softly with reassurance, and he melts in your touch. The foggy residue shows on his blushing face, and you introduce another to his cheek. “I’m going to a party with Lyney and Lynette tomorrow, so I wanted to see if Tiggy would come.”
“Ah...okay. Don’t worry, darling, it was a short conversation.” Vague and unassuming, but it didn’t matter now. Ajax can’t deceive you.
The state you drifted off—lying on Ajax’s chest with his arms embracing your lax figure—is not how you awake. A piercing scream rises, and you jump out of bed in a drowsy stupor. “Ajax?” you addle. Metal clangs to the floor, and the sheets hang low on your hips before you dart down the stairs and through the dining room to discover the cause of the noise.
He’s kneeling on the kitchen tile, compressing his forearm. Vermillion overflows between his fingers and palm and spatters his shirt. The knife, along with a clumsily chopped apple, is muddy with blood. “Oh my god!” You sprint for a towel and first aid kit crammed underneath the kitchen sink. When you return, Ajax is hissing from the sting, salty tears smeared on his eyelashes. You accompany him on the floor, ignoring the crime scene peppering the cabinets and gently glide his hands to get free view of the wound. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, now that you’re here.” It’s a nasty cut, not a gash but painful, nonetheless. You bring him to wash the excess blood, and pat it dry carefully. The fizz from disinfectant makes his arm jolt, but you hold him steady to apply. As you bandage his arm, he blinks away the twinge.
“I’m sorry, baby. You have work in a few minutes, and you’re here taking care of me. Go ahead and get ready, I’ll do it.”
“No way in hell am I leaving you like this. Don’t apologize” you insist, the end of your wrap stuffed to secure. You can’t conceive clocking in or partying tonight while Ajax suffers at home. “I’m gonna call out for a couple days so I know you’re well. Relax, I’ll be right back, okay?” He nods, and you rush to the bedroom to retrieve your phone. Ajax wipes his face on his sleeve, streaking insincere sorrow near the serpentine smirk.
You spent the day cleaning the home, wiping the kitchen top to bottom and making dinner for Ajax. He rests in bed, and you often check in on him. Treating him like an intensive care patient might’ve been excessive, but he accepts your gentle touch and hand fed meals nursing him back to health. You’re lying in bed with him, and the load of his brawny chest forces yours into the mattress with your legs on either side. You massage the pads of your fingers into his scalp, and your breathing weighted blanket emits a groan. Dazed and fully lax, lulling from the rise and fall of your chest.
The second day is the same, but the lack of pressure divides your dreary lids. It’s midnight, and it casts a fluorescent glow that permeates the room. You feel your way from walls to banister, and as you’re about to step down the stairs to get water, you pause before the living room. Crouched, peeking through the bars of the banister, you see Ajax on the couch in absolute quiet. Shade stands in place of his facial features, obscured besides the hazy veneer in his iris that bores into the journal in front of him. The collage catches moonbeams on the coffee table, crowded with tiny notes that peak out the uniform pages, and polaroid pictures glued to each sheet, stacked so thick it can’t close. He uses the pen you thought you’d lost moving in, running his tongue over the older bite marks on its base. Squinting your eyes fails at registering the specifics.
You suck in a breath and take another step, hoping the unreliable foundation won’t give way to whining wood. He skims across the words as if they’re memorized, and crows to himself. Eeeeir. It conforms, and the minute you press into it and that haunting sound whispers through the house, Ajax cracks his neck to your position. You stiffen, a deer in headlights. He puts down the pen.
“Oh, darling. I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he coos. You shoot to a stand, and Ajax meets you at the bottom of the staircase. “I-I just wanna get some water.” You feel meek and small, fairly avoiding his gaze. He enfolds your jaw with his bad arm like it doesn’t hurt, and pecks you on your forehead, light with anxious sweat. “I can get that for you, dear.” Before he can go, you interrupt.
“Ajax.”
“Hm?”
“The book over there, did you make it?” He alternates between you and the book and glisters his pearly whites. He delicately hauls it to you, “I was going to wait for it to be done, but you can read it now if you want.” You hesitate. You aren’t sure if you want to read it. Regardless, you ferry it in your arms, hefty despite being incomplete.
You unfurl the cover.
Page after page, your pulse pumps sonorously in your ears, uncontrollable where goosebumps surge through ebbing limbs. Without a doubt, you’re frightened. Aghast, gaping mouth with eyes the size of dinner plates. Dating from your first encounter, poems and chaotic paragraphs of infatuation. Your sleeping silhouette, columns of reverence, strands of your hair taped like art—pictures of you you’ve never seen taken behind cars and lamp posts.
The lengthy muddled captions emphasize how beautiful you are, how gracious you must be, because he hadn’t met you yet. On top of it all, written repeatedly in red and smothered in hearts, “I love you (Y/N)”. You don’t want to hold it. It’s broiling on your palms; you want it thrown in fire and scorched to shriveling. It almost reads as a manifesto, with jumbled threats sprinkled above overriding ink. Brutal crimes he’d commit if you were ever harmed, the gory actions he envisioned doing to your male customers. It’s incoherent and unorganized. The last page you flip to etches drought in your throat; A dried scrap of the towel you used to tend to his injury is taped inside. A new entry:
“ (Y/N) takes care of me! without her I am nothing
my sun and star ♡
my blood and bone ♡
♡ my goddess, my angel,
the very essence of my existence ♡
♡ my love is infinite and eternal
you are destined to be mine ♡
♡ forever, forever she is mine ”
You peek up from the book, not prepared to face the source. Ajax ogles you with heart eyes that can’t contemplate the absurdity. They surround you, limit you from speaking undulating panic. Part of you is fearful, the other reserves pure love you still have for him.
“Do you like it, honey?” No, you hate it. It’s scary and not the man you fell in love with. But those sonnets and odes dripping in honey—descriptions that trickle raw vulnerability and expose his truest intentions—are hard to detest when he treasures you earnestly. His expression, he’ll shatter to flecks if you devastate him. So, you scrape back the bile and oblige a strained smile.
“I love it, Ajax. Thank you.”
You’re excited to be at work, and relieved to see Lyney. His banter distracts you from the overbearing air at home. Ajax proceeds like nothing happened, or at least nothing for him. It’s fresh in your mind, torments your thoughts as you get ready for the day. His bare chest hugs you from behind while your brush your teeth and he trails groggy kisses from your shoulder to your jaw. It leaves heat on your ears, and dread in your stomach. The necklace going around you is a cage.
Closing arrives, and you start wrapping things up.
“Could you get the dark roast box?” Lyney asks from the bookshelf.
“Heard” you reply, strolling to storage to find that unnamed box squeezed beside larger product. Balancing the contents, you swing open the door, and let out a gasp to your shock.
“(Y/N)!” Hollers from the dining area. Collei, Tighnari, and astoundingly, Zhongli swarm near Lynette and Freminent. They’re removing their sweaters, but you don’t give Collei or Tighnari time before you charge at them with an immovable hug.
“Tiggy, Collei! Oh my god!” She welcomes your embrace, and you hear a labored sigh from Tighnari as he tries to pry your arms. “You might fracture my ribs if you keep hugging so tight.” Collei chuckles, and you break the reunion. “I missed you so much!” she bubbles, practically doing happy feet to exert her enthusiasm. You move to Zhongli and greet him with a lukewarm “Hello.”
Zhongli, your college boyfriend. The terms you ended on were neither good nor bad. He was a cold selfish player, who wanted to have his cake and eat it too. Unfortunately, he got clumsy with the surplus of women he juggled, and you found out you were a number among many. You shed misery in front of his dorm room, and he stilled a detached glare whilst you shouted through its paper-thin halls with unfiltered rage. It was one of the worst moments of your life. A couple years down the line, and you’ve learned to forgive him for his disrespectful, arrogant attitude.
“You look well” he charms with silky bass. “I am.”
The couple hours you spend catching up and playing board games goes fluently. Tighnari, Lynette, and Freminent rib about the rules they established mid-way through their card game, and you and Collei sit enchanted by the cozy villager simulation on her handheld console. One of her legs is on top of yours, and you’re leaning in her space. Zhongli can’t catch your sight, purposely projecting louder than usual as he enjoyed a drink made by Lyney.
“She’s so cute! What’s that one called?”
“Merengue, she’s my favorite.”
“Hope Merengue helps you with your PhD thesis” Tighnari intrudes, followed by an annoyed sigh at the “+2” card Freminent puts down.
“Ugh, don’t remind me!”
“I didn’t know you were going for a PhD, that’s great” you praise.
“I guess you wouldn’t know, since you don’t bother to call. Had to find out how you’re doing from Lyney” he jokes. You tilt your head. “Me? You have me blocked on everything.”
“You don’t come up for me either. I’ve tried calling you a few times, but it went to voicemail. I assumed you had a new phone” Collei supports. You reply with a dry chuckle, and navigate accounts you blocked, evidence they were restricted. It concludes with blank lists where their names should appear. Nothing, not even a way to add them again. This whole ordeal makes you feel like you’re going crazy. You feel bile filling the chambers of your throat, accompanied by a distinct unsettling swell on your temples. Collei notices your furrowed brows and rubs your back.
“Is everything alright?” Her voice is removed from static hammering your eardrums.
“Uh, y-yes. I need some water.” You move to the register, where Lyney is wiping down the counter. He slides you a water bottle from the mini fridge. “Don’t throw up, I just cleaned this.”
“I’ll do my best” you retort. He slants to you, whispering, “Sorry about Zhongli, they didn’t tell me he was tagging along.” You wave it off and take a swig.
“We gotta talk later. You were right...he’s hiding something.” He gives a comforting nod, and a slender hand enters your peripheral vision.
“You mind making another, Lyney?”
“God, you’re insatiable” he complains, and takes Zhongli’s cup for a refill.
“You both did an outstanding job with the café. It’s homely.” You snort, head resting on your hand. “Is that your way of saying it’s shit?”
Zhongli frowns, “I’m being serious, I’m proud of what you’ve done here.”
“Interesting. I’m surprised this isn’t a downgrade to you.”
“Anything you contribute to is an automatic upgrade.” That sad attempt at flirtation makes you scoff. “Guess your post-college affairs aren’t as frequent if you’re stooping this low.” Maybe you weren’t over it completely.
“How many times must I apologize?”
“Until you die.”
“I’m willing to do that, as many times as it takes.”
You huff, “It doesn’t matter, Zhongli. I’m in a relationship.”
“Are you happy?” You don’t have a quip for that question, and it rains on your emotions when you consider it. A flower struggles to bloom through intense downpours.
“Of course I am.” His smile is frail, and he places a mellow hand on your shoulder. “Then he has all he could ever ask for.”
The door abruptly opens. Collei’s holding it, and behind it, is Ajax. Dire tension hangs in the air, arid like the anticipation of disaster. Faint smirk and murky glower; the swirling spiral coaxes the same fear you felt last night, and the previous days. His face can’t decide what demeanor to convey, it forces gladness where darkness veils his stare. You tread away from Zhongli, praying he didn’t see the hand that was on you moments ago. Your friend's wave, but he doesn’t return the friendly gesture, instead firing a shaded cast of disgust. He saunters to you with wrenched posture, and each step makes your heart race.
“Sweetheart, you didn’t answer the phone. I was worried.” He guides you to him by your lower waist. Zhongli watches as Ajax kisses the corner of your mouth, and you beam from the one that tickles your nose. “’M sorry, not feeling so good.”
“You didn’t tell me you’d be at a party.”
“It was a surprise.”
“Ah, I see. These are your friends?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know.
“Yeah, from back home.”
“Hello” Zhongli chimes in, holding out his hand to shake. Ajax methodically turns his head to him. You swear you see a vein popping out of his forehead, a splitting stress on his teeth. “Who are you.”
“Zhongli, I’m an old friend of hers from college. We had a few classes together.”
“...Friend” he mocks with rictus, “I’ve never heard your name before.”
“Emphasis on '’old’. I figured I’d stop by since everyone else was here, it’d be a shame to waste such lovely weather-”
“You talk a lot” he states monotone. Zhongli sneers, “Some may say. I’m quite talkative during social gath-”
“So shut the fuck up.” The room hushes. You feel the witnesses shrinking themselves at the crushing tension.
“Excuse me?”
“Why were you touching her.” He’s jittery, suppressing the turbulent urge shredding through him.
“I didn’t realize she was your ‘property’” Zhongli scolds.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You put yourself between them, splaying your fingers across Ajax’s chest. His mood switches easily at your expecting gaze. “Ajax, baby, I’m tired. Can we go home now?” He pauses for a final glare at Zhongli.
“Of course. Let’s go.”
You breathe a sigh of relief and hold onto his arm as you storm out of the coffeehouse, no time for goodbyes from your friends. You center on leashing Ajax home. Blocks down, you hear the far-off patter of footsteps on stone getting louder. It’s too dinning to ignore, and as you turn around your free arm is snatched by Zhongli. You shriek, “(Y/N), wait, don’t go yet-”
Whack! His head flies back and pushes him off balance before his feet find stability. It happens so fast, and you look at Ajax, who has a most terrifying dusk pouring on his livid features. Blood gushes from Zhongli’s nose, but he straightens up tall with his fists held in front of him. Ajax cackles, and jabs between the fists that barely have time to block. His movements are fluid, swinging effortlessly after they fall to his sides. Zhongli paces back, and Ajax charges towards him with quick solid blows that make his loafers scratch on the pavement. He plants a mean gut punch to his torso, and Zhongli doubles over until Ajax punches him in the eye with steel knuckles. He collapses, but his fighting hands linger, any chance to defend himself against your merciless boyfriend. That is, until Ajax sits above him, and begins beating him to a pulp.
Whack! Whack! Whack! His hits are thundering and vicious, tracking blood to his skin from the momentum. You feel lost to time, lost on what to do to save this situation. It sounds like bone swimming in curdling clots and makes you sick. You dive to Ajax, gone by the dead visage. You snake your arms around his waist.
“Ajax! Please stop!” you scream at the top of your lungs. It falls on deaf ears, but you continue to scream. You’re sobbing into his back and yelling to a hoarse end, when suddenly the punches stop. He gets off Zhongli mechanically and braces your faint legs to rise. It’d be wholesome if not for the blood splattering his hands. He notices your tears and wipes them away, streaking faint blood across your cheek. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m here now.”
The entire walk home, he’s silent. You hate it when he’s silent. There are cuts spread over his hands and blood steadily runs from the top lip to his swollen bottom lip. He stares off in the distance, concentrated on something—rage, anger—stirring in his cotton-filled brain. You can't read him, and you wonder if you ever had that privilege.
The pieces come together themselves in a puzzle you unconsciously rejected. You can’t recall the last time you spoke to your parents. His ability to know your favorite meals without talking or gifting you outstanding presents that surfaced memories you’d long forgotten. Collei, Tighnari, Lyney, it’s unmistakable. You beg to be naïve again, hopelessly in love and enraptured.
You’d rather keep your eyes shut. The sinister rampage spilling out of him is miles apart from the Ajax who serves you breakfast in bed every day and places soft kisses on your body from head to toe. Love is enough, and you know how much he does to show it. Was there another way? Is it your fault this happened? You can’t focus either or organize your jumbled thoughts, and find yourself searching for reassurance within him, any inkling of affection to prove he still loves you. When you sheepishly reach out to grab his wounded hand, he curls around it, and the thump in your heart reignites. A pulse loud enough to subside the dread clamoring in your feet, warning you to run.
You make it home, and Ajax goes to the kitchen sink to wash away his crimes. He watches red cyclone down the drain, and you lean on a counter close to him.
“Ajax?”
“Yea?” he chirps.
“Zhongli...will he be okay?” you meek.
“Mhm. I didn’t kill him.” The matter-of-fact reply renders a shudder in your bones.
“Is something wrong?” The kitchen is small, and from the way you’re standing you’ve closed yourself off to him.
“No baby, nothings….nothings wrong” he says, that convincing tone, smooth like satin.
“But I’m worried. You’ve never acted like this before, tell me what’s on your mind.” He shuts off the water, and the cylindrical pull seeps a guttural groan. He grips the granite, and even that seems to deform. He finally turns to you, a hurt expression colliding with fiendish somber eyes and taut lips.
“Am I not good enough for you?”
“You are more than enough” you hearten. Ajax rebuttals a bitter laugh and spouts the candor he’d been gnawing on.
“I tried. I tried ignoring your kindness. I tried being pitiful, hurting myself so that your eyes were only on me”, he creeps towards you, and your feet move on their own backpedaling. The echo of his self-inflicted scar produces beads of sweat, distracting so that the back of the wooden chair presses into your back and you almost topple over. Nowhere to go, and now he overshadows you with delicate fingertips slithering across your paling cheeks and behind your jaw, “but you’re surrounded by love. People love you.”
His words drag and descend further, “Ohh, and it’s not fair at all.”
“Why are they allowed your attention. It should be me. Only me. Don’t you want me?” Laced with love, but you can’t taste it. His dilated orbs ping-pong as they scan your face for confirmation. You bring your palms over his and muster fading courage in timid waves.
“I love you Ajax. So, so much. But the way you’re acting scares me. It’s my fault and I could’ve gone home, but I haven’t seen them in a long time. I didn’t think things would end up like this.” He pauses, and engulfs you in an ardent embrace, his hand on the back of your head and another on your lower back. Oh, sweetie muffles through strands of your hair as he sways your bodies. You’re mannequin-like in his stifling sight.
“Nononono, it’s not your fault honeypot. You’re too pure for this world, so kind without thinking. So perfect” he mumbles, absurd drivel seeping through the coherent parts in formidable notes—how he loves you, needs you, can’t live without you— “but they’re leeches. They try to taint you, show you horrible, disgusting things. That piece of shit was looking at me, he was asking for a fight. And he tried to put you in the middle. You could’ve gotten hurt, or God know what. I’ll protect you, my sweet, at any cost."
“Ajax, I don’t need your protection.” It’s silent, profound when he retracts. You forget how to breathe or talk as he slides to your shoulders and holds them in place. His voice lowers.
“You don’t need…me?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying-”
“So let me help, let me be yours” he pleads. You don’t respond—you can’t. Each explanation you formulate sticks to the roof of your mouth and swells like a spell drunk in your throat. Ajax tenses, clinging to your skin. He reflects on a thought, and it blooms with a twinkle.
“What if I just...lock you up?”
“...What?” you say, hardly above a whisper. It’s arid to swallow, and shivers ripple under sweltering heat prickling your limbs.
“I wouldn’t put you anywhere bad. It’d be a pretty place; I’ll take good care of you like I always do. Wouldn’t you like that?” He has a hopeful grin on his face, and when he lets you go for a second you jerk away from his reach. Your back hits the opposite wall, nauseous and lightheaded, shaking your head aggressively to push away the existence of the idea. He wrenches his neck, and you glimpse the deluded flush on his face. “No... I’m not gonna do that.”
“Ah, sweetheart, I know it sounds scary. Can we try it first?”
“You’re not gonna put me in some fucking cage like an animal” you assert. His eyebrows furrow, offended at your assumption that he’d trap you somewhere unpleasant.
“I’d never do that to you. I love you.” He inches towards you, and you inch farther. The keys are in front of him, you can’t leave on your own. The steps you take feel critical.
“Let’s sleep on it, we can discuss in the morning.” No. No no no no. You pan to the staircase, and Ajax curiously watches your paranoid glances. Before he can grab you, you sprint for the stairs. Wind travels in your ears and settles at your graceless movement catching hold of the banister, leverage used to leap. Adrenaline flows steadily in your veins, and your senses feel muddled to mush, focused on pushing your legs to proceed. There’s no room for thinking past the will of your body. You hear airy tsks coming from the dining room, and a singsong “Don’t make me chase you, baby.”
Suddenly, the creaking floorboards succeed at a roaring parade marching behind you. Closer and closer, a sound you didn’t know he possessed. You don’t dare turn around; the squeak waltzes with your deafening heartbeat. You change direction, making haste to the peaceful bedroom you share, now eroding under his hearty stomps. You clash with the door, and barge in. Slamming it shut, your shaky hands promptly lock the knob. Ajax stops in front of the door and lets his fingertips dance along the wood, “Open the door, please.”
The knob shakes aggressively, rattling in the socket and threatening to pop. It’s pulling against the edges of the door that rive at his harsh yanks. He perpetually pulls and twists it, “Darling, c’mon open the door, my sweet.” You’re sure if you don’t, he’ll axe his way through instead.
“Please let me in, baby. Please, I’m dying without you.”
“I don’t wanna fight anymore... please”, his tone barely lifts above the depth of wood, but you hear the faulty voice keeling in cracks. You know you shouldn’t open the door, but his sorrow beckons you as it often does. He wails so hopelessly, as if you’re punishing him for an unavoidable inevitable. It’s an innocent sob peerless to the ruthless violence he displayed hours before; the harrowing glare of the man you thought you knew was all too terrifying. But he’d never do that to you, would he? You’re his darling sweetheart, his infinity now and forever. You filled his divergent heart and sutured it anew. He needs you.
Though your hands fidget to stay at their sides from common sense tucked in a forgone crevice of your headache, you force your hand up, and turn the knob. Maybe you should’ve never let him into the shop on that cold night, instead bidding him farewell and trudging in the snow to your crumby apartment. You’d continue running the shop as usual with Lyney. Things would’ve been different, wouldn’t have been so complicated to cut loose from tangling lies knotting the more he consumed you.
But no, that couldn’t have happened. He would find you, it’s destiny that you’d never part. Stalking in bushes and narrow alleyways until the perfect moment he could walk towards you and catch your eye again, and you’d fall for another pass of courting words.
Ajax stands there with sparkling sadness streaming down his cheeks that mingle with his quivering lips. He drops to his knees instantly in prayer and looks up at you with doey puffy eye bags that nearly make you overlook everything, about Zhongli, about the red flags that grow green the more you squint. It’s just you and him, that’s all it had to be. In times like these you reminisce about the sweet boy you cuddled and confided in, and things feel as they were. The messy-haired Ajax you remember pulls your lower half close to him with large hands that latch onto your waist the more you adjust. His face is mushed to merging in your stomach, and he sighs heavily, taking in your scent like the last breath he’ll ever have. They snake around you, and you meet eyes again. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I love you angel. So much I’d rip my heart out and put it in your hands…. you control me” Desperation clings to Ajax, and you urge to console him. You intertwine your fingers through his hair.
“Ajax, this can’t happen again. Okay?” you caution, a warning dripping with compassion.
“Mhm. Okay.” Unexpected warmth blooms over his cold aura, but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. His hands travel the contours of your hips and thighs, occasionally squeezing with an appreciative huff. He parts your legs and dips to your inner thighs to mold the doughy fat as his lips traverse your lower abdomen, decorating it with wanton kisses. “Love you so much” he utters. His touch is impassioned and fluid, he softens underneath your bottom and circles his thumb like a masseur. Ajax takes his time navigating your sensitive points, and switches between fluffy and solid pressure that licks down your back. Skin to skin contact wasn’t enough, he wanted to crawl in your ribcage and live in your lungs so he could sense your steady breaths. He wanted to bask in your existence, feel the radiance of your touch and ethereal voice curl and melt into him, to make him nothing and all in your eyes.
Your digits tangle in his hair, and when he nips your tummy, you tug his scalp. “Fuck” Ajax groans, strained through his lips. The peachy wash draping his cheeks is cherubic, appeased by the rhythmic kneading. One hand slinks under your shirt and guides a fingertip vertically on your spine, the other sculpts your rear. It’s dizzying how easy it is for Ajax to captivate you, a trance that turns your knees to jelly and leaves you at his mercy. You ignored the impulse igniting your muscles to push him off. You want him closer, suffocating you so deep the clouds of his scent dismantle your fear. You take his chin and redirect his attention, and he waits for order like a loyal dog.
“Ajax.”
“Whatever you want, princess” he toys, that boyish simper releasing butterflies through your body.
“I want you.” He hoists you up without a word and carries you to the bed. He brings you down, a priceless vase above the pillowy cushioned bedding. “You comfortable?” You nod, blushing from the way Ajax gawks at your half-hiked shirt, and shorts hanging low on your hips. “Good.” He’s breathless, restraining his impulse to pounce and devour you. No matter how restive he was, Ajax usually prevented himself from indulging beyond your comfort; but tonight is different. It's starving while a succulent meal taunts you, only satiated by the sight of it. He hastily removes his shirt and pants, freckled muscles flexing as he discards them to the floor. It’s hard to avoid the growing spot staining his stretched white briefs. Spreading your legs, he crawls between them. He regards you for a second, but when you reach behind his head he plunges into a longing kiss.
A longing kiss followed by hungrier ones. It’s abruptly rough and needy against your bruising lips, some skimming the corner of your mouth and tracking to the main course. He frees you for a breather, but the space doesn’t subdue the dull ache thrumming in your core. His nose brushes against yours, and you pull his flyaways back to get the full scale of his feral demeanor, sweating and reddening in the unshakable heat.
You collide again, hands behind your head through the wild exchange. You can’t keep up; he bites your bottom lip and relieves it with the glide of his tongue. Your slow and steady lover begs for entry with a ravenous push, and you allow it to ruin you. The wet appendage invades your senses, explores your mouth in nonsensical shapes and withdraws with a filthy sound before returning. “So. Fucking. Good” he exhales through your intertwining tongues. You’re moaning into each other, lasting in the moment, forgetting everything. His hips start to grind against you, practically dry humping your clothed lower half. You wrap your legs around him and steer his twitching length to roll into you, nudging the inseam of your shorts to your neglected clit. He engulfs your moans, and retreats with strings of spit connecting your tumid lips.
Ajax descends to your neck, and places damp and eager kisses along it. You feel the piercing remnant of a bite accompanied by sucking. His fangs pinch and snag and make you whimper. A budding purple and blue blend blotches to your collarbone--draining you like a vampire. His hands stay busy committing your curves to memory in greedy gropes. Ajax doesn’t notice his low rambling, “yea, you’d never leave me, right? I’m all you need”, to “you're mine.” It’s overstimulating, and so is the hammering pulse in your clit.
Your abused neck is exposed to the delicious sweep of cold air, and he hurries to your shirt. In one swoop, it comes off with the impatient unclasp of your bra. He submerges a stiff peak in warmth while he works the other. His tongue swirls around the nipple, pushing in with a stiff tip and trading it for sucking. It elicits a moan where teeth graze and tweak the bud. “My pretty girl” he murmurs and delivers attention to the next. Ajax massages your spit-soaked tits firmly and diligently in fondling motions. His passion renders him shameless, and it encourages you to fold. You find yourself swerving your hips to his bulge to goad his thirst. He responds with languid nudging, and glances at the space inside your shorts, coated with slick film from your panties. Whine caught in his throat, he salivates and unconciously holds your legs apart. You impel him downwards, and he nuzzles the line to the hem of your shorts.
“Can I taste you, princess?” It had to be hypothetical, since he was already unbuttoning them with his teeth and tearing them off. “Please?” he pants, a half-lidded mess itching to immerse in your desire. Before you can answer, a rrrip shreds through the room; the culprit of your mangled underwear remains, and you shriek. “Ajax!” you scold, but he’s not bothered when he rips the rest of it to display your arousal. “I’ll get you new ones, I’ll buy you the whole store” he sighs, forcing your thighs rearwards with his hands. He angles himself like a sniper and submerses in your pussy.
Ajax doesn’t rush, he lazily trails his tongue around the outside and plays with the folds shlicking against him. He outlines the clit and meticulously weaves his skillful tongue, caring for the spots that make your back arch; paying special attention to your entrance, as he teasingly delves in just enough to coax a moan, then laps a flat tongue over your wetness. Ajax’s ministrations are torturous, rapturing all while ignoring your release. He parts the labia and plashes the juices covering his chin and glossy lips. Your heart is in your ears, winding and coiling at the flicks of his tongue, his fingertips forging red indents on your thighs. Ajax begins to rock himself into the mattress, a fleeting friction comforting his sore erection. His leisurely grinding matches the pace of his mouth making out with your pussy. Mmmf he groans, and the vibrations oscillate. He gently slurps your lips, gasping for another mouthful and lapping at your clit. Your back levitates, and you tug his scalp. It only earns another growl, and faster swipes over the sensitive bud.
“O-oh fuck” you moan, watching Ajax lose his composure and rut himself into the bed like an animal. He’s panting with a quiver, whimpering some rendition of your name until he sputters. He jolts from the material emptying his balls and soaking the sheets, but his energy doesn’t deplete—It seems to motivate him as he hoists you to his mouth. Ajax always prioritizes your pleasure, but it’s difficult to stop him once he’s invested. And he isn’t done feasting, sloppily eating you up with little concern for your fluttering senses. He rides out his orgasm and brings you to yours, and you hardly realize the intoxicating slide over your clit spelling his name. Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, marked into you; It brings you to a chant as you come undone. Ajax doesn’t waste a drop, avidly cleaning up the juices pulsating out. “Thank you, fuck, thank you so much” he whispers. He swills the bud, and you spasm and squirm from ecstasy in his iron grip. “Ajax, p-please.”
“I got you.” He gives one last French kiss before exiting tranquility. A combination of spit and arousal blankets his mouth, and he smiles like the happiest man alive. “You okay?” Not a thought in fruition, tender mellowness smothering you. You wince from the prolonged position, and he immediately puts you on your side.
“Need to feel you.” He wrings his underwear down, and reveals his pulsing shaft adorned with beads of come dribbling down the rosy pale tip. He’s above you, trapping one leg over his shoulder, and aligns himself with your sex. “Perfect tits, perfect pussy. You’re so beautiful, all for me.” The bulb slips in effortlessly, and he sighs at the muscle clenching around him. Each inch drives seamlessly into you, stretching your unadjusted frame. He lulls on your ankle, absorbed by the coziness enveloping the base until he bottoms out. Then it’s unmoving. Agonizing, even, the way you feel him twitch inside. “Y-you can move now.”
“Let’s just stay like this for a little.” He rubs your leg, savoring the serene patter of rain smacking the wide windows and toasty light dusting your dazed appearance. It’s intimate and placid minus the rise and fall of your bodies, and you’re surprisingly shy. You rush to cover your face, but Ajax grabs you. “Don't hide, pretty girl. You’re stunning” he flirts, kissing your hand.
“Do you love me?” His blinks are exaggerated, confused that you’d ask such an obvious question.
“Of course.”
“What do you love about us?” He brings your hand to his cheek. “You complete me. You’ve forgiven me, loved me, and accepted me for who I am. I can be open around you.” He kisses your wrist, silken as to quell the trivial thoughts resurfacing.
“I’ll love you until the end. I’ll find you in the next life and start all over, even when this universe collapses. I won’t let anyone get in our way, so love me forever.” Ajax pulls out to the tip, and you whine at the loss of wholeness. Then, he drives his sticky cock unhurriedly to the hilt. You mewl, and he palms your chest. “Shh, ‘s okay.” The milky translucent trail links you and erupts obscene syrupy noises. “What are you thinking for baby names?” You can’t focus, the swinging strokes graze your g-spot. You’d say anything to him at this point; you need him deeper. He casually thumbs your clit and continues at a sluggish tempo. “I really like the name Aleksei” In and out, veins embellishing your walls. You meet his thrusts and shudder, though he stops occasionally to redirect the sopping length.
“A-ahn, you’re so wet, it keeps slipping out” he moans. He picks up the speed, squelching stirring with whimpers. “I love you, honeypot. Sosososo fucking much, just wanna breed this pretty pussy every second of the day. Ah- you wanna be a mommy, yeah? We can have a big family, hah, just you me and the kids. Wouldn’t you like that, darling?” He’s drilling into you, stuffed to bursting. You feel yourself approaching and seize his wrist. “’M close!”
“Give it to me, fuck, please” Ajax whines, and you climax under him, juices saturating his balls. You don’t get time to recover; he fucks you through your orgasm. You’re reeling, clawing at his forearm when he puts you flat on your back. “Wanna come inside. Can I, please? I want it so bad” he pleads. He adjusts you to a mating press with brute force, and plummets inside.
It’s vicious, staggering plap’s and squelching audible from outside. The headboard bangs on the wall while he pummels your pussy. A sheen of lust shrouds his eyes, and his heavy balls smack against your ass as he wrecks you. More, more, more drowns him in senseless fucking, precome frothing at the base. You convulse around him, and he burrows full throttle. When his tongue finds yours, you interweave through the sloppy pumps. His balls tighten, and he chases his high frenetically bobbing. “O-oh, fuck, you’re gonna make me come.” Harsher, meaner strokes hit you quick, and Ajax melts into endless whimpers striking his climax. Ropes of thick white paint your insides, teeming to globs where they crowd your pussy and leak to your ass. Ajax bucks into you, and you milk him dry. The shakes eventually stop, and he goes limp on top of you. You feel him softening, his steady inhale. He smiles at you, showering you with affection you couldn’t resist.
“I should use the bathroom” you suggest, patting his back as a signal to get off. “Sure. Wait here, I’ll get you cleaned up.” He returns after an eternity, with cloudy water and a tepid towel.
“Here, drink this.” You take the cup and sip. Ajax tips it a bit, urging you to gulp. He wipes you down lovingly while you swallow the contents. He disregards your vulva, however, collecting the come on his fingers and pushing it in. Oddly, you’re leaden—insanely leaden, so much so that your head tilts to one side and threatens to give up entirely. Your knees are wobbly, and your bones are lost in a dreamlike state. Ajax passes the towel under your chest.
“You know, I didn’t feel bad about it, when I strung his guts across the wall. I only thought of you.”
No. It can’t be true.
You can’t scream or fight, and simply gape at the words hulking through your numbed rationale. The towel cools your sweat, but the fear persists.
“I met him behind your complex. He was bitching about rent, sleazy fucking scum. I asked him if you live there, and he went on a rant about it. Saying nasty stuff no one should ever say about you. I couldn't help it, (Y/N), I had to see his organs carved out of his body.” Your jackhammering heart doesn’t compare to your sloth behavior. You want to run, move in with your parents again and pretend; pretend like your life hasn’t been propelled into disarray, pretend that the ginger boy caressing your face didn’t butcher a man.
“Ajax, let me go” you cried, a teardrop coursing across your temple. He wipes it, “I’m not holding you, dear. You can’t stand on your own right now, but the effect will wear off after you sleep. Rest for now, okay sweetie?”
“What did you put...in my...” You’re swooning, ferried by the effect of the unknown medicine sprinkled in your cup. With no will to combat, your eyes reluctantly close. His pupils are desolate and obscure, the night of a severe blizzard.
“I’m sorry, but I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
tags: @zhochikennugget (if anyone else would like to be tagged, dm and i'll tag you on the next one :)
#genshin smut#genshin x reader#genshin au#ajax smut#ajax x reader#tartaglia smut#tartaglia x reader#childe tartaglia ajax#childe smut#childe x reader#genshin impact#genshin tartagalia#i need ajax BAD#so sorry about the wait this time
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i. summary it was not your intention to seduce lyney, really, he was just already so very weak for you.
lyney being a sucker for you: the drabble
ii. warnings wc 700, this drabble has been in my drafts since i finished sleight of hand LOL. A Little Steamy, but nothing happens, I LOVE FLUSTERED LYNEY!!
“And that’s a wrap! Thank you, everyone; it all went smoothly as planned. Pat yourselves on the back.”
A chorus of exhausted yet elated cheers rings backstage, not enough to rival the crowd outside, yet it is still much more satisfying to hear. Some of the crew went up to Lyney to pat his shoulder, congratulating him for once again another successful show. Lyney takes it all with a dazzling grin and unwavering confidence. Why, of course. We’ve been working day and night for this.
You ceremoniously step forward and give his side a gentle nudge. Lyney responds with a grin as he reciprocates the gesture. “That was a new one. Did you and Lynette practice that secretly to surprise us?”
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Lyney says, ironically knowing that he’d have to teach his crew about this as you mustn’t repeat the same trick twice.
Lyney spots his sister resting against a wall a few feet later. “You still want to buy that dessert, Lynette?”
Lynette’s eyes flicker to Lyney, then to you. “I’ll just meet you two there,” she tells Lyney, then walks off without waiting for goodbye.
“Huh, well.” People continue to filter out of the backstage, leaving you and Lyney alone in a dimly lit room, with props scattered all around and taking up enough space to have you and Lyney pressed against each other to not stumble over any of them. “Mon amour, how’d you enjoy the show?”
“It was splendid, of course. I especially liked the part where Lynette stole the spotlight—my favorite part of every show.”
“I understand, but be more nice to the star of the show, will you?” He’s deflated like a popped balloon. “I know you know how much work I put in to perfect everything.”
You laugh, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face. “You think I pay attention to you that much?”
Lyney huffs. “You don’t have to be so coy. It’s my job to steal your attention, isn’t it? You’re also my assistant; surely you’ve learned a thing or two about magic tricks?”
“Of course I have,” you cede. “I’ve been watching it all, Lyney, don’t be teased so easily.”
“Well, it just seems to me you haven’t really been paying attention at all,” he feigns a pout.
“Really? Is this a test?” Lyney casts you a sly glance, and you return it with a scoff. “I’ve seen how you deceive them with your actions, distract them with your hands.” You nudge his chest with two fingers, and in the silence, you can hear how Lyney swallows air at the proximity. “You’ve got quite the skill with them.”
“You’ve been watching them pretty closely,” Lyney says quietly.
“Isn’t that the point? It just proves how talented of a magician you are.”
His face is a comical shade of red. He’s weak like that.
“What I learned while being part of your troupe, however, is that I could be saying anything, and my audience wouldn’t really care.” You trail your fingers up, and up, slowly, and Lyney’s breath all but hitches once you reach his neck. “Because I’m making you watch my hands—bring all your attention to what I do and not what I say.”
“Yeah,” Lyney agrees absentmindedly, like a hypnotized man—the irony.
And it’s then you realize that he isn’t looking at your hand at all. His eyes are gazing intensely right below your nose—entranced by how your lips move to mouth your words. You suppose that it still counts as a distraction.
Your fingers reach out to cup his chin, leveling him with a look of disbelief. “Lyney?”
His entire face is a tomato, and half-words are caught in the back of his throat. He gapes at you and looks as if he’s at war with himself.
You hold back a laugh. “I’m surprised you weren’t so critical to a newbie. Did I do that well?”
“That wasn’t fair, and you know it,” he replied weakly after a moment of finding his voice. He then hides his face behind his fingers. “Don’t go around doing that. You can’t try to captivate an audience already so enamored with you.”
“Ah…” Now you feel flustered. “Let’s—Let’s just go meet up with Lynette.” You can’t handle staying in this room for another minute.
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#lyney x reader#lyney x you#lyney x y/n#genshin x you#x reader
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Your First Date-Genshin pt 3
Characters: Lyney, Freminet, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Alhaitham x gn reader
Summary: Your first date with them,
Warnings: lyney flirting, tea
Note: omg im finally done, i really liked writing these tho, ye thats all i have to say school literally destroyed my brain, love you
Lyney
he would definitely preform a TON of magic tricks during your first date, both romantic, some are just pretty to look at and then there´s the brother-you're-just-embarrassing-yourself magic tricks
: said ever so kindly by Lynette
wouldn't make your date as public as his shows, since he wants to share the moments and magic tricks with you only
(+ Lynette, Fremi and "father" if she asked him so, but yk, they're only made for you)
after he had given you more rainbow roses than you could ever count to, he set out some homemade goods, like cookies, a cake, cupcakes(whatever you lik)
(in which he definitely didn´t spend a few days learning to make)
overall 10/10 (if you dont ask lynette, she had to leave bc of the amount of secondhand embarrassment(she was there at the start)) and it was enjoyable for u.
Freminet
yes, you would be underwater for your first date, but if you really don´t like it(yet)he can just take you some other time
^^but he would prefer to show take you on your first
[and yes, Lyney and Lynette (+his other siblings at home)did bet on when he would finally confesses and take you on a date]
he would let you wear his diving helmet if you really wanted to, but he would also just wear it if he felt embarrassed, or wanted to tell you a story (most likely abt pers)
he aslo ended up showing you a few of his mechanics(robots?)
and showed you some works in progresses other people haven´t seen, other than him and pers ofc
Wriothesley
he would drink tea with you in his office
^^maybe Sigewinne baked you something too,
but you mainly drank tea and just talked the whole time
(bro likes tea so much, someone pls make him shut up abt it)
well other than showing you and talking about his (absolutely massive) tea collection (and cake/bakery(sry))
if he´ll ever let you talk, ofc he will(its a very unfunny joke), he´ll listen to you for as long as you´d want to talk
you also laughed a little when he told about how melusines and stickers dont work well
and he liked seeing and hearing your laugh, so he might go for a date number two
Neuvillette
he would take you out to a fancy restaurant or he would just sit and talk with you somewhere more private
but maybe include a Melusine passing by here and there, checking on you both or for some work-related reasons (that they then put off, just a little, when seeing you both together)
i imagine that you would try some different types of water with him, by his request, and tried your dam best to find a difference.
but he would also get you any kind of drink, dessert or food you´d like
all in all its pretty easy bonding with him, and he just likes being beside you and spending time with you
Alhaitham
he would take you to a quiet cafe where you could sit in peace, since he doesn´t like loud places and want you two to be alone for the most part
he would pay 100% he doesn't even give you a chance to try and pay for anything (he´s nice when he wants to be)
he definitely brought a book with him to read(+ one for you) and would either let you talk while he reads a "little", or he would just read out loud so you know what kind of books he likes
he´s not good at doing any kind of romantic things, but he did try and do something
that including:
taking you out on the date later in the evening so he later could show you the stars, and point out some constellations
asking your friends (and maybe family) what you like food-wise, so he knows what kind of place he should have in mind when picking the place of your date
thank you for reading i don´t think i´ll make any more of these, but if you want it i´ll do it, luv ya-Masterlist
You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts
#genshin x reader#genshin impact#gn reader#noelle´s maiden#noellefan101#noellefan#lyney x reader#freminet x reader#freminet#lyney#lynette#lyney and lynette#neuvillette#neuvillete x reader#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley#gender neutral reader#genshin impact x reader#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham
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SISTER's SUPPORT
Summary: A sister has gotta do what she gotta do. Slight dark undertones, implied stalking, very mild yandere behavior? But could be read as fluff or dark comedy, but questionable. Kinda dumb-
Why do I imagine Lynette being the pushy and bickering sister-in-law in support of her dear brother who hasn't cared to mention that you are partially still a stranger? And he hasn't gotten the chance to even introduce himself? But, he's a little shy and head over heels and implementing subtle tactics to bring you in.
"Do you care for a trick?"
You've heard it before, and though you never believed in magic or magicians you turned around to see the young man bowing his hat, a hand behind his back, and an elegant posture.
Magicians are but clever in deceiving and trickery, concealment, and whatnot. You could list a few more.
However, in favor of answering his voice, you speak up, "Oh no, thank you." The least you could do was smile and walk away, and you were going to until he stepped an inch and insisted, "Please just one trick?" he pleaded with his eyes this time.
You looked away, dealing with persistent people never went well in your case so you nodded, and he grinned big. Sighing and whining internally, you fold your arms and watch him reveal the insides of his hat, you've seen it done many times.
"Don't blink!" he playfully cautioned.
You dare not.
He examined you for a brief moment then pulled out a picture from the empty hat, and quickly handed it to you with a wide smile. You had been expecting a rose or something that symbolizes passion, or love. But not what you were seeing.
A hazy picture of black and white with a figure whose face resembled a ghost. It was an eerie sight to witness first thing in the morning.
"What... What is this?"
"Oh, did I hand you the wrong one?" he feigned innocence leaning over and taking a peek, "Oops!! My apologies, even magicians make mistakes!!" he exclaimed, stealing the picture out of her hand and replacing it with a ticket instead.
"As an apology, please accept this free ticket to my magic show this evening, I would love to see you there!" and then, he vanished into the alleyway.
You did not give much thought to the incident and went on your day, the ticket at the bottom of your pocket forgotten and missed. Cruel or sad may it be, you had no business being someplace you didn't want to.
It would have stopped there normally.
But it didn't...
"Oh!! Hello there!" It was his voice again you heard on the streets, he wasn't alone this time, "I must have freaked you out with my wrong trick, I figured that's why you didn't come to my show." Faking ignorance seemed harsh so you ceased your doing and glanced at the twins, you wanted it to be swift and stress-free.
"Not really, I was busy with work and I'm not a fan of crowds, Sorry I couldn't attend it." his sister had been staring long and fiercely, an odd sibling you assumed and acted, "I hear it was marvelous, the show you put up, people are still talking about it."
"You liar." That's the first thing you heard from his sister standing by his side, glaring and throwing knives into your chest, not literally but your heart did skip a few beats.
And strangely, it seemed to agitate the magician more than you. "Ha-ahaha! She just likes to tell jokes, don't mind her!"
"Oh... Uh, I see."
The conversation had turned sour, and none of you spoke a word or met eyes if it hadn't been for the young man, you would have been stuck in the silence for much longer.
"Um... We were heading to get dessert, you should come with us." he offered, friendly-toned and cautious of how he was being viewed, Despite the kind suggestion, you would rather decline than take harmless risks.
"Thanks... But--"
"Just shut up and come with us already. You have nothing to do tonight we know."
"Lynette!!"
If the earlier comment hadn't affected you, it did now. Sadly for you, his sister wasn't done yet and took a step forward to point an accusing finger at you, as if you had gone and killed someone dear to her and laughed it off in her face.
"Do you even know how sad my brother was when you didn't come to his show? You should be sorry for what you're doing to him! Why are you causing him pain?!"
Perhaps, asking for no trouble invited it instead.
"You torment him with your moody strikes! And you have the guts to ignore him! How dare you tear apart my brother's heart and act as if you're this kind lady who doesn't hurt-"
"Lynette!!!" Confusion couldn't dare to describe how you were feeling, the scene looked like a family quarrel, and you weren't even a part of it.
You felt like a wife scolded by her sister-in-law. Would saying anything work to quell the tension brewing in the air or even the eyes watching them? If you had to make a bet, the people were having the time of their lives watching the drama unveil.
"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I follow... I've never really talked to your brother-"
"You're coming with us!!" The only thing left for her to do was drag you there herself, that would be humiliating.
"Alright."
You felt like a part of the family alright.
#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact imagine#genshin impact lyney#lyney x reader#lyney#lyney x y/n#genshin impact oneshots#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#lynette#sillyposting#Not really yandere
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Ok, but can you imagine getting caught putting stickers on your stoic girlfriends face?
Lyney, Lynette, and Freminette just standing there stunned when they walk into the room to find you in Arlecchino's lap, absolutely covering her nose and cheeks in bright sparkly pink stickers.
Ganyu dropping the papers she had been carrying in surprise when she finds you spelling "Cute" across Ningguang's forehead with mismatched colored letter stickers.
Sara is trying so hard to be professional, she really is, its taking so much effort. But of course, you laying across Ei's lap in the throne room is quite distracting in itself. But with you also covering the Shogun in dessert stickers? Yea Ei is fully distracted from any business going on, and none of the guards can decide what to do in this situation.
Dehya knows that its a game you like to play with Candace, to hide stickers on the woman and see how long it takes her to notice. Dehya knows, and tries her best not to spoil it when she finds the stickers first instead. But when her and Candace try to spare, and Dehya comes face to face with a matching pair of tiny smiley face stickers, one dead center between Candace's eyes, and the other perfectly centered on her shield. Dehya can't stop the laughter that falls from her, much to Candace's own confusion.
AWWWWHDJJDJSKJFF
I love how your girlfriend just complies with whatever you want and everyone around you (including your girlfriend) just has to put up with your shenanigans because you’re just “too cute” to say no to 😅
It’s even funnier if the women don’t even try to deny you wanting to put stickers on their face. Once you show up with a little paper of stickers and a pleading look in your eyes, your girlfriend just immediately folds and lets you do whatever you want to them. You’re their weakness after all, they can’t say no to you <3
Even funnier is when they let you do it at work. Like imagine Arlecchino at a Fatui Harbinger meeting, and everyone is watching as Arlecchino gives an important message while her lover is sitting in her lap plastering unicorn stickers on her face 💕 Columbina is definitely laughing her ass off while the Tsaritsa finds it mildly amusing…
Oh…to do this with my girlfriend 🥹
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Since you can do MMD stuff now I have a request!
The Fontaine gals with an S/O who likes to eat ice cream with them atop somewhere high while watching the sunset! (Inspired by Kingdom Hearts)
(Genshin Impact) Navia, Furina, and Lynette eating ice cream with their S/O
I'd throw my sea salt ice cream at Xion's head.
Navia prefers baked treats over cold ones, but she'll have no complaints about sharing either with her S/O!
And when it comes to their choice of their scenery, Navia absolutely loves it.
Watching the sunset with her lover at her side gets her heart racing.
Though with that being said, she only goes along if that evening is not particularly windy.
The last thing she wants is her hat flying off into the wind at that height.
Mostly because she'll go after it, which S/O would have to grab Navia and make sure she won't fall.
And with how strong she is, she's taking S/O with her.
She also tries to make sure the ice cream doesn't drip down onto her dress, but other than that, sitting next to them is one of her new favorite past times!
===
Navia smiled as she took a bite into the frozen treat, turning to S/O and raising her sunglasses.
S/O blushed at her bright expression, staring more at her than the sunset itself.
(S/O) "Sure thing! I'm sure you can make it taste better too!"
(Navia) "Aw, I can't make it without you, silly! Now, what did you call this again?"
(S/O) "Sea Salt Ice Cream."
(Navia) "Sea Salt, got it! There should be no shortage of that around here, I'm surprised no one's made this sooner!"
(S/O) "A friend of mine taught me the recipe. He liked sitting up here with his friends and eating the same thing."
Navia's sunglasses dropped back down as she moved closer to S/O, taking another bite from her ice cream.
(Navia) "Well...I'm glad you wanted to share this sight with me too!"
Furina is a woman of class, only enjoying the most delectable of desserts adorned with fancy decorations.
And their taste must be nothing short of sublime!
So when it comes to ice cream, admittedly, she finds them lacking, but sweets are sweets!
And the ones S/O had chosen to share with her passed her expectations!...When it comes to the taste, anyway.
But when it came to their choice of location, Furina was more than happy to watch the sunset in silence with S/O.
It was honestly a nice change of pace than the opera houses they'd frequent. This secluded place on the wall overlooking a large part of Fontaine felt like a special place, reserved only for them.
===
Furina examined the treat before her under close scrutiny. Appearance-wise, it was just a block of blue. Boring!
But, S/O had made this specially for her. The taste passed her inspection but it was admittedly bland. She would have to properly inform them how to make amazing treats!
(S/O) "Do you like it?"
(Furina) "The taste is adequate. But would it have killed you to put some flair onto this ice cream?"
(S/O) "Well, my friend never really taught me to do anything special with it."
(Furina) "Your friend?"
(S/O) "Oh, did I not tell you? He's the one who taught me how to make it! We all shared the ones he made at this very spot. Heh, everytime he showed us, he'd ask if we "got it memorized" every single time!"
While Furina was listening, she became enraptured by S/O's face as they recalled their fond memory, smiling as the sun was shining on them.
They had noticed she was staring and tilted their head curiously.
(S/O) "Is something wrong?"
Furina smiled and tasted her ice cream, then leaning the treat towards S/O.
Admittedly, Lynette did not try too many dishes that were either too hot or cold. The only exception for that being tea, and even then she had to wait for it to cool off.
Due to inheriting the cat-like traits, a very sensitive tongue was one of the things she had to learn to live with.
So, ice cream was something she did not have often, although she admittedly did enjoy it, but not to the same degree as other dessert aficionados.
But she won't say no to a free meal, especially one provided by her S/O.
And seeing how happy S/O was to give her the homemade ice cream, she couldn't refuse that smile.
Doubly so when she got to watch the sun set next to them, though feeling the heat directly made her want to take a nap more than anything.
===
Lynette looked at the ice cream in her hands, noticing how basic the shape was.
Shrugging, her tongue poked out from her lips as she gave the ice cream a lick, immediately recoiling.
S/O chuckled at her cute reaction.
(S/O) "I mean, it is ice cream, Lynette. How did it taste?"
Lynette stared blankly at S/O before failing to contain a small smile from growing. She waited for a few moments before taking another lick, noting the taste.
(Lynette) "Salty, but sweet at the same time. Surprisingly not too strong in either direction."
(S/O) "Okay, good! My friend would never let me live it down if I messed up the recipe for my girlfriend."
Now it was Lynettte's turn to quietly chuckle as she looked at the setting sun, feeling the warmth on her skin.
(Lynette) "I don't think Lyney would either. Speaking of which, do you mind making more for him as well?"
(S/O) "Sure. Want me to teach you as well? It's pretty simple."
Lynette paused for a moment, her ears twitching.
(Lynette) "I don't have to use any appliances, do I?"
(S/O) "The stovetop and freezer, mostly."
(Lynette) "I...think I'll watch, so that way I don't break it."
S/O laughed, almost dropping their own ice cream.
(S/O) "Okay. You'll at least eat them when I make them, right?"
Lynette smiled at them before getting back to slowly finishing up the ice cream.
(Lynette) "I won't eat one every day, but I will when you make them."
#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact headcanons#navia x reader#furina x reader#lynette x reader#navia genshin impact#furina genshin impact#lynette genshin impact
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hii!! can i request headcanons for a lyney x reader (gn or fem is preferred!) maybe just headcanons for, like, what he would do for you on a daily basis? just a mix of fluffy fluff fluff? i feel like his love language would be a mix of everything tbh. feel free to take your time!! no rush :>
HIII NONNIE !! and yes yes, of course ! i apologize for the delay, but it’s finally released from my drafts -
pairing : lyney x gn! reader
synopsis : lyney, your ever wonderful lover, loves you to bits. so what would he do for you on a daily basis ?
proofread : ⨯
cw : just fluffy fluff fluff, as requested !
author’s notes : actually kinda proud of this one - either ways, hope you enjoy the read, nonnie ! and this was actually a good warm up for that request my lovely wifey sent lmao - anygays, enjoy ! also, I apologize if it’s somewhat short
LYNEY would definitely, first and foremost, give you a dessert every day. no matter whether it's because you accomplished something, you made him fall for you even more ( if that was even possible at this point ), or you just being you and being there for him, he'll buy you your favorite dessert every day. you can't convince me otherwise. man loves you and wants to show it to you! you better accept it before you're having to deal with a sad and clingy lyney for the rest of the day lmao
LYNEY would also be the typa guy to be fine with PDA. he's a big fan of this one. like, you two will be holding hands as you take a relaxing stroll through the streets of fontaine, he'll give you side hugs while you two are out getting street food - you name it, it'll be on this list.
LYNEY would show you every magic trick that he and lynette practices beforehand - he wants to know your honest opinion on it! that is, if the trick isn’t a surprise for you, of course.
LYNEY would take you out on silly little dates whenever he has the time to! like, if he was feeling particularly happy after a show of his, spectacular as always, he’ll take you out to café lucerne to buy the both of y’all something to snack on and to chat your ear off about his happiness. if you feel like shutting him up, just kiss him. don’t worry, he’s only going to jump up and down in happiness.
LYNEY would, as soon as he knows what it is, give you your favorite flower every day! he wants to see you happy; if you decide to keep them all in a vase, he’ll be even happier. the flower’s not local to fontaine? not to worry! he’ll order it through romaritime harbor’s daily ships that come to the dock. just a quick chat with the sailors, a handful of mora, and boom - your beloved flower is there the very next day, still fresh, too.
LYNEY would give you kissies everywhere - he loves you, and much like two of the previous ones, he wants to show you a tiny bit of just how much he loves you. even if it can’t cover every little bit of how much he adores you, he supposes it’ll have to do until he finds something that can. or, at least, it can try to.
LYNEY will get you a vip ticket to every one of his shows. front row, free popcorn - the whole package. hey, it’s his show, and you’re his treasure - just you being there will pay for it. no need to worry!
LYNEY loves you, and will show it in many ways just how much he’s mesmerized by you <3
© ceneid 2024. please do not steal, repost or translate.
#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#⌜- èl writes !⌟#genshin impact#genshin#lyney and lynette#lyney x reader#lyney x you#lyney genshin#lyney x y/n#lynette#genshin lynette#genshin impact lyney#lyney#genshin lyney#lyney x gender neutral reader
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do clothes make the person? (lyney x gn reader)
Summary: …Lyney dresses up in a skirt and leotard, while practicing for another switch-up trick with Lynette. That’s the basic premise. Enjoy!
Notes: This is still SFW but uh… Rated teens and up, just to be safe (a lot of flirting)
Throughout his career, and for the purpose of pulling off impossible feats of magic onstage, Lyney has garnered quite a range of props and outfits to suit his purposes.
The first time you learn of him and Lynette swapping places, you’ve only seen his sister dressing up as him, and joked that perhaps you’d be whisked away by the more level-headed version of Lyney that stands before you (Lynette, still in disguise, looped her elbow with yours and said in deadpan to her brother that the two of you would be going now.)
Suffice to say she was hoping to escape from practice to go buy some desserts, and you were happy to oblige. Lyney hadn’t let either of you forget that betrayal ever since, ever one to play on dramatics just for an excuse to tug on your wrist and demand your attention. Behind those theatrics however is the relief of a brother who’s glad his very-important significant other gets along well with his very-important sister, even if it was at the expense of himself sometimes.
In today’s practice however, Lynette is the one who required a double, and so you found Lyney in their room still in a leotard and skirt. He noticed you entering, and with a quick decision made in the flicker of his eyes, settled into a monotone expression. Posture relaxed, lazily glancing over at you - in this moment, Lyney truly seemed like a cat.
“If you’re looking for my brother, he already left.”
“I already saw Lynette as I was coming in.” You inform, walking over to tidy the props left on the table. You look over at Lyney from over your shoulder, trying to control the quirk of your lips at the sight of his pout. “Were you hoping to get some secrets out of me? Asking how I really feel about you?”
“I didn’t think that far, but now when you put it like that… How could I not be curious?” Lyney makes his way over to you, capturing you in a hug from behind as he rests his head on your shoulder. He starts using his body weight to tilt the both of you towards the side, dangerously close to falling.
“Lyney.”
“Yes?”
“Please stop swaying around, we’re going to—”
Without letting you finish your sentence, Lyney suddenly pulls you against him as he makes the both of you fall towards the ground. Panic surges through you as you feel your feet slipping from under you, only for Lyney to cushion your fall with his body. He’s trying his best not to laugh at the shriek you let out earlier, while you try to resist the urge to strangle him there and then.
“You— Stop laughing!” You grab his wrists; connected to the offenders that pulled you down with him seconds ago, and drag Lyney into a sitting position. “We could’ve gotten hurt!”
“I wouldn’t have let you get hurt.” Lyney gives you an affectionate smile, which would’ve been sweet had it not been for his actions just moments before. “And look, I’ve got you on my lap now. Not quite as fun as hearing you divulge everything you love about me, but a close second.”
“Try saying that without the cat ears and tail.” Keeping the annoyance in your tone, you reach up to take them off his head. It’s just a cleverly hidden headband, but you remember Lyney mentioning how it’d start to hurt if he wore it for too long. “Are these clothes not uncomfortable?”
Lyney’s eyes are shut, leaning against your touch as you ruffle his hair out of its braid. The ash-blonde strands are soft beneath your fingers. “Mmm, not exactly. It’s not like men have never worn leotards, you know. There are appropriate clothes for it.” His lashes flutter open once you retract your hands, violet gaze soft. “Not going to help me rebraid it?”
“I might mess it up.” You say. Lyney hums at the rebuff, unbuckling the belt that holds his tail. He offhandedly tosses it to the side, and just as you let your guard down, he’s quick to pick you up from below your thighs and pull you even closer to him. By instinct, your legs wrap around his waist to get some balance, but immediately after, you realize your compromising position and freeze. “...You’re an absolute sadist.”
“I just want you near,” Lyney smiles innocently, cupping your face in his hands. Despite how his words sound, he honestly just likes physical affection. The horrible blush burning on your ears is just an added bonus. “I’ll let you go after a hug.”
“Promise?”
“Mmhm.”
Watching Lyney carefully, you finally let yourself rest your head in the crook of his neck, arms looping around him. He’s quick to melt into the gesture; at times, hugs could be seen as a test of trust. It was hard for one to see the expression on the other party’s face or be aware of their surroundings when positioned like this. Is it odd for Lyney to feel comfortable despite the slight feeling of anxiety that comes with it? He never lets hugs last for too long, though - lest something actually sneak up from the shadows and he’s too late to protect you both.
By the time he’s finally in his normal clothes, Lyney’s leading you through the streets of Fontaine with your hand in his, claiming there’s a really good restaurant he discovered lately. (In truth, it’s just another excuse to intertwine your fingers.)
You do have to admit - it is cute when he hooks your pinkies together while talking to a fan or acquaintance, swinging it between you both just subtly enough so that no one would notice. Just like how you hadn’t noticed the addition of a tiny magenta ribbon tied to a small lock of your hair. It sits comfortably at the back of your head, so Lyney doubts you’d notice unless you tried combing through it.
Not to mention, it matches his colors! Call him a hopeless romantic, but Lyney thinks the sight of you both together like this is quite endearing, if he says so himself.
#genshin x reader#lyney x reader#lyney genshin impact#lyney x you#lyney x gender neutral reader#genshin x you#genshin reader insert#genshin scenarios#genshin impact imagines#genshin writing#traveler wishes
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(Platonic Lyney anon) Alright then, I'll send my two asks separated so that you can answer the one you like the most. Take all the time you need!
How would Lyney (and Lynette too, she seems to have become interested as well) react if Reader ends up preferring Freminet? Like, they stay with him a lot and don't feel comfortable with the twins yet. Maybe it's because Freminet is more silent, and not forceful like Lynette can be.
Ooo Platonic Yandere Lyney is super family driven. He has a very intense desire to see his siblings get along. But when it comes to Reader having a clear favorite in Freminet, it really depends.
If you’re sticking besides Freminet because you see him as “safer”, asking to hang out with him in his workshop because it’s quiet and away from the other two, using him to limit your time with the twins, Lyney will allow it, coo over it (he melts when he sees you fallen asleep leaning against Freminet, snapping several pictures as quietly as possible. Ones that you might see framed in his room should you ever enter it), and have a private conversation with Freminet about doing more “family” activities (board games usually), in the hopes that with Freminet participating, you would overcome a bit of fear and do it too.
If you’re doing it to spite or avoid him, cuddling up to him and refusing to entertain Lyney’s brotherly whims (perhaps you stick your tongue out at him from over Freminet’s shoulder tauntingly), Lyney gets a bit upset. It’s obvious that you’re doing it to avoid him, and not even considering poor Freminet’s feelings about it! So you get grounded. Which, in a house you can leave, usually just means no dessert and having to sit through Lyney’s practice.
Lynette doesn’t mind either way. The idea of Freminet having a sibling he could be close to (they love him, but the twins are twins, perfectly in tune) is sweet to her, and defiance is a sign that you know acting out a reasonable amount won’t result in harm against you. If Lyney “grounds” you and refuses to give you dessert, she’ll sneak you some, don’t worry.
Bonus: Freminet’s brain short circuits every time you chose him over his siblings. He feels really bad that you prefer him over the twins, and doesn’t think it deserves it. He’ll try quietly to suggest you spend more time with them.
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Hello, I have seen some of your works and have enjoyed each of them, and after seeing that you are still accepting request I was wondering if you would consider a Yandere Arlecchino with a pastry Chef reader, a slight spoiler for the Archon Quest is that she seems to like sweets a great deal, perhaps the reader is oblivious to her yandere antics and simply enjoys making sweets for her and her children.
Or perhaps a Yandere Arlecchino with her children being platonic yanderes that want their "Father" and the one they love to be together, and as such they try and play matchmaker with her and the reader.
Either way, I hope you like the ideas, and that you stay safe and take care.
P.S. Here is just a brainrot for you, but imagine Platonic Yandere Arlecchino not only vetting Lynette's love interest, but also helping her get together with them once she starts to approve of them.
i could platonically put you in my mouth and crunch on you like a jolly rancher, thank you for this amazing idea, i could write about this endlessly but i didn't want to get too long <3333 pls request more of this so i can write more in the future
Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including implied stalking, intentional increase of Fatui members, delusional behaviors, implied trickery of reader, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!
Yandere!Arlecchino with a pastry chef beloved would be a very interesting concept! You, as the pasty maker, would notice a sudden influx of Fatui members in your once quaint little cafe. The upside is that sales had been through the roof and no trouble seemed to linger anymore, the downside was that most locals had been too nervous to stay around for long, often ordering and leaving or coming in for a pick-up before leaving. It was alright though, one delightful woman always seemed to stick around for a chat!
A sigh of content left your lips as you closed up shop for the night. It had been a long day with many desserts having been made but you managed it as always. It wasn’t until you were headed to the front of the store to lock the doors that you noticed her standing out front, patiently and politely. A pleasant smile crossed her face as she saw you, raising a delicate, gloved hand to offer you a polite smile. “I know you’re closed but I just wanted to come say hi. I had more work than I thought I would today and wasn’t able to make it before closing.” She was as polite and well-mannered as always, something you had admired about her. People around town spoke of her being part of the Fatui but you couldn’t really see it. Sure her outfit seemed a little strange but she was too kind to be evil. She was always so nice and polite, she spoke so well-mannered and always left a generous tip. It was hard to see someone so perfect being diabolical. She had simply come off as the perfect person to be around.
#genshin x reader#genshin x male reader#genshin x gender neutral reader#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin x male reader#yandere genshin x gender neutral reader#arlecchino x reader#arlecchino x male reader#arlecchino x gender neutral reader#yandere arlecchino x reader#yandere arlecchino x male reader#yandere arlecchino x gender neutral reader#yandere genshin#genshin yandere#yandere arlecchino#arlecchino yandere
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Básicamente un TN o YN que es como Malleus Draconia de Twisted Wonderland (Prácticamente la descripción más importante de Malleus, un ser amable y tranquilo pero muy peligroso y poderoso: por eso muchos le temen... por ese miedo muchos simplemente lo olvidan. (quiero invitarlos a fiestas, reuniones o eventos sociales porque su sola presencia molesta o incomoda a todos, simplemente algo triste)
¿Cómo reaccionarían las naciones de Teyvat al enterarse de que su YN prácticamente NUNCA ha recibido una invitación? Básicamente, están tan contentos con esta invitación que los han invitado a una fiesta.
Traduction:
Basically a TN or YN that is like Malleus Draconia of Twisted Wonderland (Practically the most important description of Malleus, a kind and quiet but very dangerous and powerful being: that is why many fear it… for that fear many simply forget it. (I want to invite you to parties, meetings or social events because your single presence bothers or bothers everyone, just a little sad)
How would the nations of Teyvat react when they discover that their YN has almost never received an invitation? Basically, they’re so happy with this invitation that they were invited to a party
I'm not quite sure how you wanted to put it, but I'll try!
Now, Y/N is hella strong, and I mean, creators are kind of strong. Move mountains, rise the seas, and create blood-turning rivers—ALL THE STAFF.
They have this aura around them—the one that could crash any kind of ego without even flinching a finger. And everyone knows that and fears that—to the point that they never guessed if they were actually happy in that situation.
The reader wasn't that fine with it. To be fair, it wasn't even something that they would enjoy; they felt just so lonely in their giant temple, waiting for someone or something.
Their first invitation came like a warm wind during the winter.
Freminet loved your place—so big, so quiet. He enjoyed that you let him stay at your place, minding him no business at all, just tending to your garden while he was wandering the small lakes in the Creator temple. When he sent them a small letter, an invitation, something clicked in the reader's mind.
"What is this?"
"An invitation to my sister's tea party...for you..."
They have never received any invitations since the day they came to Teyvat. It was so stressful, but they couldn't take away the happy smile on their faces.
When the day of the tea party came, finally Lynette and Lyney understood who their brother friend was that he used to talk about. That wasn't what they thought about. When the Creator himself appeared to them, with a small box full of dessert in their hands and an elegant smile on their faces, the two siblings were in pure shock.
What if they do something to upset the creator? What if Lyney says something wrong? What if... and there you and Freminet just started to enjoy the tea together?
Readre tried so hard to not make anyone feel uncomfortable, but everyone was so stiff, except Freminet; of course, he couldn't be bothered at all by them.
When Readre started to tell how happy they were after receiving that letter from Freminet, Lyney started to make a guess.
"How is it possible that you, the mighty creator, don't receive any invitation to party, even in your own honor?"
"Maybe it's for my jokes?"
Ajh, so the creator was just a big dumbass. What news!
After that, the information started to spread. And the archons started to feel some shame for themselves.
They genuinely believed that the Creator never had time for pitty little pèarty or small festivals; they never could imagine that they could feel so lonely. Things started to change—for the worst, maybe.
"Ooookay! Today we have lunch at Mondstadt with some wine tasting at the Ragnivndr Mansion, then dinner at the Akademiya. Very early, we must go, and I mean, fly, to Watatsumi Island and"
Lumine was just at the beginning of her daily report of the creator's activity. Only to find them half asleep on the table.
"Maybe being the center of attention, it's not so fanatical at all."
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TO YOU, MY WORLD.
premise. i assign them a oneus song based on what it’s like when they love you — ft. clorinde, lyney, navia, neuvillette
reader is gn, lowercase, written before the release of clorinde / navia / neuvillette, you don’t need to know oneus to understand ( but if you do please be my friend )
CLORINDE. champion duelist
you and i are in different conditions, it’s tiring approaching you cold — fragile
it’s almost frustrating—how incompatible you are, how suffocating the atmosphere is when she’s in the same room as you, how stiff the conversations feel when you force yourself to be cordial.
not to the fault of her, or even you for that matter. you are just so inexplicably difficult to grasp, like a sword just out of her reach and so close to the tips of her fingers.
but clorinde is an unstoppable force and is stubborn to a fault. and you are a cannon made of glass.
or maybe, you are the moon, pulling her in during the high tides and letting go once the sun begins to rise. a secret kept behind closed doors only when there are no prying eyes—the people of fontaine are notoriously known for their love of gossip.
maybe the truth isn’t that you aren’t incompatible, just opposite forces that are too powerful for their own good. because when she isn’t trailing behind your respective god or walking beside the chief justice, you find that clorinde the person and clorinde the champion duelist are rather different from each other. and much to your chagrin, just clorinde is regrettably more pleasant than you’ve led yourself to believe.
clorinde cannot afford to be emotional. it is nonnegotiable, a fundamental pillar that comes with her occupation—the one she swore her life to until her final breath.
still, she can’t help but want to be closer to you. stealing glances every so often during court trials, lingering near your home for just a second too long when she passes by on her patrols, stopping her hands from reaching out to you during the rare instances where you happen to cross paths.
clorinde has fought many battles and has come out of that same arena unscathed without a single imperfection on her skin. but when you stand before her face to face glaring daggers into her head with eyes that have long since put her in her grave, clorinde thinks this is one fight she does not know how to win.
LYNEY. spectacle of phantasmagoria
the long awaited curtains finally open, and the lights shine only on you — stand by
for lyney, it comes as easily as setting a stage. and luckily for him, he has had years of experience of entertainment to last him the next lifetime.
adjust the lights, load the sparklers, make sure all the props are perfectly prepared—because it has to be perfect, or it is not worth calling a show at all.
it has to be perfect because you’re sitting there in the center of his world, and he cannot handle the thought of disappointing you when your eyes twinkle and you have a smile that makes his heart flutter out of his chest. truly, he thinks you’ve been the one charming him and not the other way around.
and it’s your seat, nobody else’s. he’ll throw a fit if anyone else gets assigned that spot in the opera, lynette has seen it turn out so one too many times.
when did he become so lovesick, lyney tries to pinpoint where it started. it’s difficult to gauge, because even in his deepest memories, you were always there. in every corner of his heart, in all the gaps of his fingers. it all reminds him of you. the street performers sing choirs of love that make his heart melt, trinkets on display he wonder if you would like, desserts through the windows that he would love to try with you.
( correction: desserts that lyney would love to see you try. not because he particularly dislikes sweets, but because he fears his heart may just go into overdrive if exposed to both the melting flavors and your hypnotizing light. )
“how horrible, i’ve been ruined!” he falls dramatically into the cushions of his bed, face first into the pillows as lynette sits idly beside him with a cup of tea. the extravagant display is only two stops short of the truth. one that lyney is reluctant to accept for a number of regrettably selfish reasons.
the first: he buried the dull and boring pieces of himself and locked them away for no one else to see in favor of his charismatic prestige. it would not come so easily to let that go.
the second, and the more daunting: if he suddenly peeled back the facade, would you still love him? would you think him undesirable and remove yourself from his life? no, that would be just awful, he can’t have that happen.
of course, you’ve never had any explicit expectations for him. and of course, lyney doesn’t know if you love him. but he, as every other lovesick loser, truly hopes you do. because he isn’t sure if he can keep denying himself any longer.
but alas, he’s out of time—the stage lights flash and the curtains are drawn open. and lyney, of course, enters with the same dramatic flair. his eyes instantly find yours in the crowd. you’re in your spot, like you always are. your smile makes his chest pound, like it always does.
oh, he can only hope for you to stay once the show ends.
NAVIA. demoiselle of the spina di rosula
it’s like i’m crooked in front of you, my head is spinning round and round — zigzag
the world is moving so quickly, and navia can’t seem to see even two steps in front of her. the last she remembered, you were in front of her with a devilish grin. when she blinked, you were out of sight like she was never speaking to you in the first place.
oh, this is so embarrasing. spina di rosula’s big boss caught in a lovestruck daze, all because of an outsider with a pretty smile. melus asks if she’s feeling unwell when her faces runs red—to which navia only responds with a slam to the door of her private headquarters.
it’s all so black and white when it comes to you, like tunnel vision focusing only on the destination. as if you were the one thing she was looking for this entire time.
would you like this dress? or perhaps a matching suit would be better? would it be too over the top to get custom made matching outfits?
“demoiselle, it’s just a small banquet.”
navia almost has the nerve to look shocked. just a small banquet? impossible, nothing is small when it comes to you. everything has to be perfect. because you’re the greatest partner she’s ever had, her closest companion, her number one. of course it has to be perfect. how ridiculous people must be to think it otherwise.
regardless, it’s no secret to anyone that the two of you are most comfortable around each other. behind the flamboyant mask and an outfit with far too many buttons, your laughter rings through the open air and reaches her like a gust of wind—brushing past her hair and leaving her paused and dizzy.
this is absurd, is she tipsy? no—no, she is most definitely sober. sober and flustered and definitely staring far too obviously for her liking. but, if that sparkle in your eyes was any indication, then you didn’t seem to mind it much at all.
NEUVILLETTE. ordainer of inexorable judgement
i was always there just out of your orbit, if only i could tell you i love you — halley’s comet
‘when it rains in fontaine, the hydro dragon is in mourn.’
common knowledge to the people who hailed from the land of justice. and if that is to be treated as fact, then the emotional equivalent of the unforgiving weather must be grief.
but nothing has gone wrong in neuvillette’s life to warrant such a visceral reaction. surely, something is different, but each knob belongs to a door that does not open. an unusual—if not cruel—predicament.
the first time he saw you, it was raining. back then, you didn’t have any coverage and instead stood soaked down to the laces of your boots. what were you thinking about, he wonders. what are you thinking about now, where are you now?
in the moment, he thought you strange for standing out in the worst storm of the season. now, he likens that scene to a better time—cast in the shadow of your light when you turn with a bright grin and ask just what ‘monsieur neuvillette’ is doing out in the pouring rain.
he blinked, almost caught off guard. shouldn’t he be the one asking you that? there is no one else out in the city besides the two of you. any well-minded fontainian would know better than to frolic in the puddles and kick up water in the streets.
but neuvillette, while he does not know why, knows that you are a flame that cannot be doused.
you, always just out of reach from his fingertips when he opens himself with outstretched hands and eyes that don’t quite match his face. you, a searing comet that cuts through the sky without a second to spare, a trail of stardust left in your wake.
and if you were willing to wait for him, just this once. he would come to you open armed with his vulnerability exposed.
don’t talk to me about how lyney’s is so much longer than everyone else’s … i don’t know what happened also if you see me come back to this post to add the images don’t pay it any mind zzzz
#lyney x reader#clorinde x reader#navia x reader#neuvillette x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#clorinde x you#lyney x you#navia x you#neuvillette x you#genshin impact#🌊 — miyosei
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Dinner Dates
Lyney likes to take you out to eat once in a while. He wants it to be a proper date, so it will be one of the few times where you won’t see Lynette with him. Instead, it’s just you and him enjoying a nice meal together.
Lyney is very familiar with all sorts of restaurants and cafes in Fontaine, and although he could take you to eat at the restaurant of Hotel Bouffes d’ete, he instead chooses to bring you to a small yet cozy eatery. It may not be the most well-known place, but it has delicious food with a homecooked touch, a cozy ambiance, and it’s not as noisy as other cafes and restaurants in Fontaine. The perfect place for the two of you to relax and chat while sharing a delicious meal.
While dining, Lyney flirts with you, shooting you a charming smirk while teasing you about feeding him the way lovers do. Though his remark and that alluring look in his eye make your heart race, you’re not one to back down from a challenge. To Lyney’s surprise, you gather some of your food onto a fork and bring it up to the magician’s mouth with an adorable smile and a cute “Say ‘ahh’~”.
You can only watch in quiet amusement as you successfully turn the tables and cause the magician to blush and stammer awkwardly, finding himself suddenly tongue-tied. Your amused giggle deepens his blush, and he tries to hide it behind the rim of his hat.
However, the same trick won’t work on him twice. The next time you dine together, you try to tease him by offering your fork to him again, but Lyney smoothly accepts the food, eating it from the fork without hesitation. He even licks his lips in a seductive manner while crooning how delicious the food is, just to try and fluster you.
He beams and offers to feed you in return, holding up some of his own food for you to try. Though initially this mutual feeding started off as a means to tease one another, it helped to deepen your relationship and bring you closer as a result.
For anniversaries or romantic holidays like Valentine’s, Lyney will want to take you out to eat too, but he’ll want to make it memorable for his love. During one such occasion, Lyney plans an extravagant dinner on an airship in the late evening, complete with a bouquet of rainbow roses that he presents to you with a flourish and a deep bow, and a gorgeous view over Fontaine’s landscape.
He entertains you throughout dinner with some simple but unique magic tricks, such as making food appear or disappear, and pulling out more flowers from god-knows-where and threading them into your hair and clothes. He also presents an assortment of cards to you with various desserts depicted on them and tells you to pick one so he can guess what it is, only to give you the real dessert at the end.
The sparkle of delight in your pretty eyes, and your bright smile and laugh are a worthy reward for the long days of practice he put in to make these tricks work. Actually, scratch that. The kiss you pull him into as the two of you stand under the starry sky is the best reward ever. As much as Lyney tried to make this night unforgettable for you, he would be a liar if he said it wasn’t memorable for him as well. The feeling of the breeze weaving through your hair, your soft lips and sweet scent, and the city far below you will forever be etched into his memory, and he’ll often reminisce about it afterwards with a wide grin on his face.
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