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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

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Not-So-Scary Moments With The Yan. Genshin Boys (Sumeru + Fontaine Edition).

Characters: Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Kaveh, Tighnari, Cyno, and Wriothesley.

Word Count: 2.7k.

TW: Borderline Shitposting, Prolonged Imprisonment, Varying Levels of Emotional and Physical Abuse, Codependency, Mentions of Stalking, and Unhealthy Relationships.

Alhaitham

It took Alhaitham about ten minutes to drag himself out of bed, his staggered footsteps audible through the thin walls of his apartment.

It took twenty for him to haul himself through his morning routine – water running somewhere in the distance and porcelain clattering against marble countertops as he washed his face and tried to work some life into himself. Alhaitham usually wasn’t so lethargic, but he’d had a rough week. There’d been a sudden influx of paperwork for the Akademiya’s sole scribe, and every second he didn’t spend buried under new legislation and requests for increased budging was, instead, dedicated to one of his many personal research projects. By the time he’d gotten home last night, it’d been all he could do to make sure you hadn’t starved to death and drag himself to bed.

He usually would’ve kept you waiting for a few more minutes, but an agitated grunt marked an end to his normal patterns. In a moment, he was braced against the doorway to his own study, his eyes narrowed half-hearted towards where you sat in his leather-padded chair, your feet propped on his desk. There was an book open in your lap – one of his, something about metaphysics and ley line abnormalities and how both tied into the Inazuman politics. He eyed it wearily before speaking, his voice still deep with exhaustion. “Where did you put my hearing aids?”

His tone was accusatory, his irritation visible. You put on your sweetest smile. “Where did you put my novellas?” you signed, thinking for a moment before adding, “Bitch?”

“They aren’t ‘novellas’, they’re—” He cut himself off with a scoff. “They’re filth. I don’t want you rotting your brain with smut.”

“The plots are very—”

“The plots are half-baked excuses for paper-thin characters to fondle each other in locations you can tell the author didn’t take the time to properly research and—” His gaze flickered to you, his frown deepening. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“You’ve read them?”

There was a long beat of silence.

Finally, he let out a labored sigh. “The dozen or so I couldn’t be bothered to throw away are in a cabinet underneath the kitchen sink. It’s locked – the code is your birthday. Now, where are my aids?”

“You fell asleep with them on last night,” you said aloud, abandoning his glorified textbook and pushing yourself to your feet. His hand shot to the side of his head, finding the metallic cuff only slightly displaced by having spent the better half of the night on his head. As you passed him, you paused, pressing a kiss into the corner of his scowl and pretending to ignore the muffled groan he let out in response.

Neuvillette

Of all the sights you thought you might see after arriving in your wonderous new nation, the Iudex of Fontaine standing over your drained bathtub with a look of potent remorse written across his expression was not one of them.

You’d imagined yourself strolling through the walls of the Opera Epiclese in vivid detail, been able to picture exactly what you might’ve seen standing below the Tower of Ipsissimus or above the bottomless pit that was the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, but even after you’d found yourself in the smothering care of Monsieur Neuvillette, you never would’ve been able to conjure this sight. He usually insisted that you bathe together, going so far as to have an in-ground tub that could’ve easily been mistaken for a hot spring installed in his (until recently neglected) personal residence to better indulge the habit. Thankfully, the trial he’d been presiding over had run long today, and you’d been able to save yourself an hour of his calloused hands running over your body, of his eyes burning into your skin with a nearly inhuman focus. You knew he’d be disappointed. Irate, even, depending on how his trial swung.

You hadn’t expected him to be so… sulky about it.

Half-lidded eyes, a slight pout tugging at the corner of his lips as he lingered idly in the doorway between your shared bedroom and the in-suite bathroom. Steam and silence laid heavy in the air – the latter you were eventually forced to break as you fiddled with the hem of your robe. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, hoping more to break the tension than to make him think you were genuinely apologetic. “It was getting late, and I didn’t know when you were coming home. I didn’t think you’d take it so personally.” When he didn’t respond, you braced yourself for the worst. “If you’re angry, please say so. I… I’d rather get this over with now, if it’s all the same to you.”

His expression softened. He let out an airy sigh and, with only a moment of hesitation, closed the space between you. “I’m not angry.” A pair of lean arms wrapped around your waist, his face soon buried in the crook of your neck. You heard him inhale, and did what you could to suppress the shudder that ran up your spine at the thought of him basking in your scent. “I’ve just been… looking forward to it, I suppose. Your taste relaxes me.”

Immediately, you went rigid. “My… taste?”

“Mhm.”

“Neuvillette,” you started, very slowly, giving your own mind time to catch up to the dread slowly building in the pit of your stomach. “Have you been drinking my bathwater?”

He was quiet for a not inconsiderable amount of time.

Finally, he pulled away from you just far enough to speak. “…no?”

For your own sake, you decided to believe him.

Kaveh

“Kaveh.”

“Not now, treasure.”

“Go to bed.”

“I will, in another hour.”

“You need to get some sleep.”

“I’ve already told you – I’m fine.” He narrowed his eyes, expression contorted by concentration. “Knight to B4.”

“Kaveh,” you repeated, leaning across the table. “You were showing me your blueprints.”

“Oh.” He blinked several times, looking over the sheet of blue paper marked with chalk drawings and near indecipherable hand-writing. “Were you impressed?”

Your frown irked, but you swallowed back your exasperation and pushed yourself to your feet. Slowly, you took him by the hand and, when he failed to protest, guided him out of his own seat and towards the room you were usually restrained to, when he wasn’t home. He’d kept himself awake for the past two nights, every moment of the past forty-eight hours devoted to finishing his proposal for a wealthy commissioner’s summer mansion before its upcoming deadline and, now that the coffee had been drained from his system and his adrenaline had been given time to fade, he was practically a shell of a man – all dark circles and hunched posture and disheveled blonde hair.

Sleep deprivation was, by far, the worst thing he could inflict on himself. At least he was happy after he drunk himself into oblivion. This was just depressing; as miserable for him as it was for you.

With a dutifulness you shouldn’t have had to show to your lover-turned-stalker-turned-captor, you brought him to his bed and watched as he collapsed onto it, what little strength he had to hold himself up immediately dissolving. With a sigh, a roll of your eyes, you turned to leave, but a hand lashed out from the crumpled heap and caught you by the wrist. “Stay with me?” His voice was muffled by layers of sheets and blankets, but clear enough. “Please?”

Usually, his bids for affection were met with bitter neutrality or, on your worse days, spiteful condensation. Usually, you would’ve torn yourself out of his hold and made sure he knew that he’d ruined any chance of living out his little domestic fantasy the second he decided his obsession was worth more than your happiness. Usually, you would’ve hated him that much more for daring to ask.

But, he could barely hold his eyes open and when you failed to immediately recoil, the sloppiest, most lovesick smile you’d ever seen plastered itself across his lips. It was his turn to pull you forward, this time; to drag you onto his bed and into his chest. With a satisfied sigh, he slotted his chin against the dip of your shoulder and draped his arms around your waist – an old position. A relic of better times you’d never been strong enough to completely dicard. “When it’s time to draw up the plans for our home,” he mumbled, only half-audible. “I won’t so much as breathe until its perfect.”

You opened your mouth, but didn’t say anything.

He’d already fallen asleep.

Tighnari

He glanced once at the thick packet of ink-marked parchment you’d slammed in front of him before looking back to you, his expression disparaging. “And this is supposed to be…?”

“A custody agreement,” you answered, grinning. “Alhaitham put it together during his last visit.”

“We don’t have any kids.”

“It’s for Collei. If I ever leave you,” and, to be clear, you would be leaving him, as soon as you figured out how to get away from a man who poisoned your tea whenever you so much as suggested entertaining a future that didn’t include him, “I want weekends and summers.”

“She’s nineteen.”

“Which is why we’re letting her pick who she wants to spend holidays with.” You tapped the front page with your knuckles. “Honestly, dear, if you weren’t going to so much as read the documents, we could’ve scheduled this for another day.”

His ears twitched, his tail sweeping across the floor in irritation. “Even if this was legally binding – which, by the way, something assembled by a scribe would not be – I would never give you weekends. That’d be too much travelling for a girl in her condition, and I don’t want her to feel like she comes from a broken home. Moreover, according to Regulation #531 as passed by the Grand Sage last year, you would have to get Collei’s signature before—”

“Check page twenty-seven.”

You watched him scowl as he thumbed through the pages. A second later, his ears flattened against his scalp, and he took to muttering under his breath. “Traitor.”

“If you don’t want your aggression towards the dependent party used against you in court, I’d suggest you sign on page four, seventeen, and thirty-two.”

You left his villa half an hour later with a with a new imprint of his fangs on the side of your throat and a signed document in-hand.

Cyno

“You have kidnapped me.”

“Technically, I was only—”

“You’ve blackmailed me, imprisoned me, and tortured me.”

“You can’t still be hung up on—”

“You’ve branded me with your name, forced me into your bed, and made me play out all your delusional, fucked-up fantasies—” You took a deep breath, pursed your lips. “—but if you show up to a black-tie event wearing that, it will be the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”

He looked down, as if considering his attire for the first time. He was in his usual uniform – which was to say, shirtless and barefoot, his hair windblown and a fine layer of sand still coating what little he was wearing. You could only be thankful his polearm wasn’t slung across his back, but you knew he’d make it past the door without it. “The way I dress has never been a problem before.”

“There’s a difference between hunting down rouge scholars and going to a banquet being held by a literal god. Archons, Lesser Lord Kusanali herself might be there.” You gasped, dragged your hands over your face. “Everyone who’s ever gone to the Akademiya will absolutely be there.”

For all his many faults, he could never stand to see you in pain. There was a brief delay, a moment of unsure shuffling, then his arms were wrapping around you, his chest slotting against your back has he pulled you against him. “It’ll be alright,” he muttered, speaking into your shoulder. “If anyone so much as attempts to insult you—no, if anyone tries to talk to you at all, I’ll strike them down in the blink of an eyes.”

His comfort was stale, but you forced yourself to relax. At least enough to speak. “You know,” you mumbled, letting your hands drift to your temples. “Dehya was hired by an up-and-coming scholar, a few weeks ago. I’m not sure how long her contract was, but there’s a chance we’ll see her tonight.”

There was a beat of silence, then another.

“Cyno?”

“I’ll change.”

Wriothesley

You could hear him trudging up the metallic stairs to his office; his footsteps heavy enough to drown out the soft music flowing out of his century-old gramophone. His head emerged from the curving staircase, first – his hair somehow more disheveled than its usual state of barely-tamed chaos – then his chest, his tie undone and his collar terribly mangled, as if he’d spent all day indulging the worst of his nervous habits. He was baring his teeth, his pale cheeks flushed with anger and his eyes narrowed into a pointed glare. It wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for (in your wildest dreams, he would’ve managed to sink his beloved fortress before he ever reached you), but it was close enough.

You moved to stand, to greet him with the warm embrace he usually demanded, but he was already in front of you, already pinning you to the back of the lounge you’d been splayed across with a single fist planted less than a hair’s width above your shoulder. “You,” he growled, leaning in close enough for his breath to fan over your skin. “Do you know how many journalistsI had to deal with today? They were everywhere. I couldn’t go a step without tripping over some— over some glorified tabloid.”

“So, your meeting with Monsieur Neuvillette went well?” His scowl deepened, and you let out your most faux innocent laugh – a chiming, bubbling thing he’d never been able to stand. “You shouldn’t scowl like that, love. All those photographers will have to find a new model if you manage to give yourself frown lines.”

He jolted, but forced himself to shut his eyes, to let out a long, ragged breath. When he did face you again, he’d regained a degree of his composure – just enough to meet your smile with his own tight-lipped grin, more teeth than anything. “I’ll let you off easy if you tell me how you did it now. Before I decide it’d be faster to strangle an explanation out of you.”

“I didn’t break any rules, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You paused, folded your hands over your lap. “It was all thanks to our great and benevolent duke. Contacting people outside of the fortress has gotten so much more efficient ever since you decided prisoners should be able to send letters without administrative vetting.”

He buckled visibly, his shoulders falling as he lean towards you, his face soon buried in the dip of your shoulder. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” There was a raspy chuckle, a hand on your thigh, squeezing just hard enough for his anger to shine through the playfulness of the gesture. “I think I’ve earned the rest of the day off, and I think you’ve earned—”

The door to his office swung open before he could finish, a masculine voice calling up from the voice below only a moment later. “Your grace, t-there’s a reporter here to see you! She says she’s been told not to leave until she speaks to your partner!”

“That’ll be Charlotte,” you half-sung. “She seemed like such a nice girl in her letters. It’d be a shame to keep her waiting.”

When he failed to answer, you brought up both hands and cupped his face, cooing as you used your thumbs to quirk the corners of his mouth upward.

“Just remember to smile for the camera this time, alright?”

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ohnoitstbskyen · 10 months ago

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I know it would probably bring a lot of hate comments but I am begging you to roast the hazbin character designs because I'd love to have someone properly articulate why they don't work so I could send it to people who won't believe me when I tell them. 🫠 Understandable if you don't want to get into it though.

I don't think there's that much there to roast, honestly?

Those designs are clearly an extremely specific stylistic choice, and because that style is consistent throughout the show, it ultimately feels coherent with itself.

There are trade-offs being made. Because Hazbin's design style is SO stylized and so heavy on decoration and detailing, because it puts a lot of emphasis on costuming, it isn't as good at communicating specific character storytelling as a more grounded style could be (it's kind of the same tradeoff that stuff like Genshin Impact makes).

Like, why does Sir Pentious' hat have an eye and a mouth on it that makes its own expressions? Apparently not for very much reason at all, except that Pentious has a bit of an eyes-motif going on in his design and it was one more place to put an extra eye. And that's a valid criticism of his design, but also the entire show is designed like that, so frankly it would be weirder and more out of place if his design alone didn't have that kind of overelaborate decoration going on.

It does create a situation where I have a hard time "reading" the character designs sometimes. For example, Vox, Alastor and Pentious all wear a similar style of suit with upwards-turned shoulders, butterflies and pinstripes. Now, am I meant to read that as Vox imitating Alastor due to his crippling need to replace and outdo him, and Pentious imitating the style of powerful Overlords because he thinks that possessing their level of power will finally give him relief from his paranoia and self-loathing?

Or is it just a design fixation of the creator who keeps putting their characters in suits because that's just what they like? I can't really be sure, because sometimes design elements are used to intentionally tell stories about how characters relate to themselves, their world and one another, but plenty of other times designs look the way they do Because Of Vibes.

But again, that lack of clarity is clearly an intentional trade-off - and the benefit of that trade-off is a design style that is extremely varied, wild, expressive and memorable. Hazbin Hotel seems like a very easy show to draw fanart of, and a very fun show to draw fanart of. Those designs (especially the hyper-expressive faces) are begging to be the subjects of traumatic headcanons, unbearably cotton-candy soft fluff fantasies and weird, taboo, homoerotic power dynamics. Slaps roof of character design, this bad boy can express so much vicarious emotional intensity.

It's very exuberant, very excited about itself and very self-indulgent, it's a style that prioritizes visual impact and visual interest over readability (something which the animators of the show navigate with real skill, props to them) and individual aesthetics over worldbuilding.

And I don't blame anyone for being turned off by that (I certainly was the first time I started seeing those designs going around), but I would struggle to call the show's designs "bad" when they are clearly achieving exactly what they want to achieve.

I have some criticisms, especially re: how the show treats skinny bodies as an unquestioned, desirable default, and employs fatness as a means of alienating and abjecting the audience. That sucks very badly, and is a serious disappointment, and one of the few places where the show feels like it is being cowardly in its design philosophy. But I don't have it in me to do some kind of Hazbin Hotel Sucks And Here's Why takedown, its problems are not unique or extreme enough to warrant it, at least not as I currently understand them.

#tb answers #hazbin hotel #character design

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lxvebun · 11 months ago

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flurry of colours

synopsis: asking the genshin boyfriends what color they see you as

content: Alhaitham/Kazuha/Wriothesley x gender neutral reader. Fluff! Use of nickname darling/dove. Wrio is pretty short I wasn't entirely sure how to write him😭. English is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes♡

D*rk content blogs do not interact (*a)

Alhaitham

"It's not your problem if Kaveh's struggling with his color schemes, darling" he replies quickly, not even bothering to look up from the page in his book.

"Archons, Haitham, it's not like that. Just look at me and imagine what color I radiate :)

he sighs a little, closing the book but keeping his fingers between the pages. Even if he thinks it's a bit of a silly question, he does take a moment to let his eyes trace over you, shamelessly letting them linger on your lips too. for a second you think he's actually going to answer your question but then you see him failing to suppress a smirk and his gaze meets yours with an expression you can only describe as Are you serious?

"Humor me Alhaitham"

Alright, let me think.. he completely closes his book this time, placing it in front of him on his desk and rests his head on his hand

"Colors can actually invoke a lot of thoughts and impressions. Most people associate red with warmth, and passion, but also with danger or fear depending on the context. A lot of people view black as a masking color be it clothes to hide certain parts of yourself or the shadows in your nightmares, but you can also see it as a protective color as it doesn't reflect. Blue is usually related to the sea, the lighter tones with sunny mornings walking along the shore, darker tones of blue can relate to the deep cold unknown depth that's hidden from prying eyes......if I had to describe you a color..it would be green. Not necessarily because of the associations with it, wisdom, calmness, and hope. which do apply to you don't get me wrong, but green is my favorite color, and you're my favorite person. Simple as that. Now, care to read with me for a bit?

*he's so annoying but he does it so well. Bites him*

Kazuha and wrio under the cut♡

Kazuha

kazuha has been a bit gloomy as of lately. His usual flowery words have lost their petals, His leatherbound notebook has not made an appearance in a while, neither have the little poems he writes for you to wake up to, and his fingers are clean, not covered with his usual, and at this point, you believed to be permanent, ink stains. It's clear he's been going through the infamous writers block. something that most artist go through and also get out of but it's nonetheless an infuriating part of being an creative individual. But since Kazuha has made you his muse as he told you many many times before, who are you to not try and help inspire your lovely boyfriend.

It takes you a while of bringing him to random locations for sunset walks or stargazing and asking him random questions until one finally hits the spot. His eyes immediately lighting up as he turns to you with such a warm expression of love and adoration you're pretty sure your heart skipped a beat

"That's a very beautiful question, dove"

He takes a moment to think about it, eyes lovingly tracing over every little detail of you, the backlight of the sun, the glimmer of the waves shining in your eyes

"I don't think describing you as one color does you justice. You shift hues as softly and gently as the day shifts into night, and the sun makes place for the moon in the sky. But if I do have to say just one, I see hints of purple in you, but that could also be because the color reminds me of my hometown and everytime I look at you, my soul feels at home" He answers with a new found excitement in his voice

"Actually, maybe I can use this for a poem-"

*i'm projecting can you tell?*

Wriothesley

You often come down into the fortress to spend some time with him on his break. With both of you living on different levels of Fontaine, you'll take any chance you can get to be around him and even when it's not officially his break time, he could never say no to you....or tea time

That's why you're here now sitting on the edge of his desk as he hastily discared the paperwork to make room for the teapot and biscuits. As quickly as the tea flows, the conversation passes from deep and meaningful, romantic ones, to terrible jokes and banter as both of you just talk about whatever comes to mind.

So he doesn't raise an eyebrow when you ask him what colors remind him of you. it's quite endearing how he just goes along with whatever silly questions or requests you throw at him without making you feel embarrassed about it

"Probably between a pearlescent white and a warm honey yellow."

"Interesting answer...why?"

"the colours remind me of the sun and the moon, and living at the bottom of the ocean here in the fortress we don't have either of those of course. You're the closest thing I have to feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin or experiencing calm atmosphere of the moonlight. And to be honest I prefer you over the real thing♡"

Hes so cute *cries*

Thank you for reading angels!♡

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesely x reader #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x reader #kazuha x reader #genshin impact x gn reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #alhaitham x gender neutral reader #kazuha x gender neutral reader #genshin fluff

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 5 months ago

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How about the nerdy girls of genshin (Lisa, Sucrose, Ayaka, Kokomi) with an S/O who's an even bigger nerd than she is?

(Genshin Impact) Lisa, Sucrose, Ayaka, and Kokomi's S/O being a NERD

Nerd? YOU WILL REFRAIN FROM SUCH UNSCIENTIFIC TERMINOLOGY IN MY PRESENCE.

Lisa respected that S/O could actually hold an intelligent conversation that didn't devolve into something insane, like with Alice.

They could actually speak about their inventions, while mostly theoretical, could be made with current technology, and understandable enough for her.

Such as a machine that could clean the room by itself! Something that Lisa desperately wanted.

And seeing how excited they were to showcase a new prototype to her, Lisa can't help but admire their enthusiasm.

(Lisa) "S/O, what's this one called?"

(S/O) "Well, its actual name is the RX-03 Cleaner, but I just nicknamed it the Wiper."

(Lisa) "...But it doesn't wipe anything down, it just sweeps."

(S/O) sigh "Listen, names aren't exactly the most important thing for a machine."

Lisa teases S/O to make a machine that could clean and organize the books in the library for her, but S/O refuses to make Lisa somehow even lazier than before.

Sucrose was glad to have someone who could understand what she was talking about almost completely.

It put her at ease to just speak about experiments and concoctions without being given a strange look and actually getting a proper response.

Especially since it was with someone she loved, without worry of boring her S/O to death with the minute details of her experiment.

(Sucrose) "Hm...Do you feel any adverse side effects?"

(S/O) "Nothing seems to be different in response. I'll write it down for you in the log."

(Sucrose) "Hm...Perhaps we need to increase the strength of the mixture?"

Her usual shyness and hesitance is almost gone. As helpful and patient as Albedo was, it was nice to have someone on the same level of her, at the very least.

Ayaka appreciated how different S/O was compared to most people she had met in Inazuma.

They weren't afraid to show their interests or their intelligence.

Granted, Ayaka had no idea what her S/O was going on about sometimes until they had to dumb their explanations down.

But she still wanted to learn, because it was something S/O cared about, and at the very least, she'll make an effort to be engaged!

(Ayaka) "And these fossils are...What did you call them again?"

(S/O) "Part of the megafauna that used to live in Tevyat!...At least I think they are. They predate the Archon-War, and even this skull is the size of a house! But to answer your question, they were Alces."

Ayaka leaned in with a glint in her eye, looking at the skull.

(Ayaka) "I see. Do we know anything else about these creatures?"

She didn't always follow S/O, but Ayaka still loved to hear S/O speak, hearing how energetic they were in their findings.

Archons knows how liberating it is to finally speak about things that you love, and she wouldn't deny the person she loved that ability.

Truthfully, Kokomi could appreciate that S/O was as much of a bookworm as she was.

Perhaps even moreso, considering how often their eyes were locked onto the pages, brows furrowed in that cute way that Kokomi loved as they read.

Whether it be fiction, educational experiments, or even random pieces of literature, they read it with the upmost attention.

Which meant plenty of fun conversations with S/O about the stories they read.

(S/O) "It doesn't make any sense! Why in the world would the author write the character that way when it literally goes against everything that was established earlier?!"

(Kokomi) "Hah, it won't be the last time we see something like that, dear."

It did feel nice to hold an intelligent conversation instead of it usually veering off into something weird, like with Miko's book recommendations.

Though calling them "stories" was a bit kind, sometimes.

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #lisa minci x reader #sucrose x reader #ayaka kamisato x reader #kokomi x reader #lisa minci #sucrose #ayaka kamisato #kokomi sangonomiya

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mysumeow · 8 months ago

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. . . ꒰ IN MY DREAMS...

Warnings: afab body and breasts, reader is referred to with you/your only. PWP (plot what plot), handjob, cunnilingus. XIAO X READER

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: this was supposed to be for tomorrow hahafhfsahjs YES this was inspired by xiao's letter. its been a while since i last wrote something about xiao </3

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ 🌷 . . KOFI | GENSHIN MASTERLIST

Xiao’s dreams of you start with simplicity and indulging in idle moments of life. Moments he always thought were unreachable for him because of the karma he carries on his shoulders.

To saunter along the coast of Yaoguang Shoal as you collect those starconches that captures your attention, both his eyes and mind drifting off to the way you look with the sunset behind your back, casting its afterglow’s hues onto your hair.

He remembers your face with such vivacity, thanks to the longing in his heart. Your voice, your signature perfume, or the aroma of your shampoo—the mirage that you are in his dreams—all of it committed to the smallest detail. It’s like you were there.

The dream keeps moving forward. With intertwining hands, you two make your way towards the abode. He’s looking at you while you chat, smiling at him and taking his other hand in yours. Inside the abode, the chatter fades into silence, and a shift in mood ensues. It’s soft, however. Like how you press a kiss on his lips.

Not only does he recall your face to the simplest detail, but so does your warmth. When you envelop his shoulders with your arms, lean into him and rest your head on his chest. Knowing that you can hear his heartbeats makes them fasten, but he doesn’t move away. He’s capable of maintaining some level of composure, and his hands relax on your hips. His touch is loving like he’s with you: malleable, allowing you to take the lead according to your heart’s whims.

You press a second kiss on his body. This time, on his neck. The underside. It tickles him. Then, you move onto a third one, a fourth one... It stopped tickling and instead stimulated other sorts of reactions in his body.

In the blink of an eye, he finds himself with his back against the mattress, your body looming over his. You were whispering something to him; he couldn’t decipher what it was, but it sounded sweet against his ear. Xiao closes his eyes and lets you continue, his hands obediently waiting by his side.

The longer you stay on his lap and the more you keep canting your hips forward and backwards, the harder it is for him to stay obedient, though. Likewise, the way you suckle and lick on those delicate spots on his neck doesn’t help his case. With a heaving chest, Xiao tries to warn you of that impending pleasure that’s going to burst; much to his dismay, he fails to warn you in time.

Despite the shame he feels, you don’t appear to be bothered by it. You laugh, endeared, and promise there’s nothing wrong and that you’ll relieve him more. Xiao tries to make sense of your words amidst the after waves of his climax, but you clear up what you meant the moment you pull his pants down.

And then…he woke up with a rapid heartbeat. His cheeks, neck, and the tip of his ears were tinted red.

He spent a while in silence, staring off into the starry sky in those couple of seconds.

And then he moved his head to a side—his gaze met your sleeping face. He had fallen asleep on your lap a couple of hours ago. At some point, you dozed off as well after him, he presumed. No wonder the warmth and aroma were so vivid.

Maybe his fixed gawk woke you up. You blinked a couple of times before mustering up a drowsy smile.

“Mm…” You rubbed your eyelids, shaking off some sleepiness. “You look like you had a nice dream. I’d like to hear about it.”

Despite it being a mere dream, somehow, Xiao felt tender all over. He woke up flustered and didn't know how to arrange his thoughts at first.

“We were...strolling the shore. While holding hands,” He scratched his cheek, avoiding your eyes.

“Aw,” You placed your palm on his forehead with the intention of brushing his bangs but found yourself rather surprised by how sweaty it was. Not that he was drenched in it; it was enough for you to notice it, however. “If you have some time, we can do that tomorrow. What else did you dream about?”

He hummed, thinking.

“You were collecting starconches until you were tired. We made our way home...” Xiao's resolution to seem unaffected by his fantasies was stable enough for his voice to not waver.

You leaned in closer, eager to hear more. “And what else?”

“...That's it.”

Mindlessly, you traced with your fingertip the side of his face down to his jawline as you heard him speak.

“Are you sure that was it?” You couldn't help but stifle a small giggle.

Other details you noticed besides his sweaty forehead was the prominent arousal evident behind his pants.

Xiao looked like he wanted to say something, to which you shut him up with a kiss. Little by little, you felt him relax into you more, pleasured sighs escaping from him on those short instances you would pull away. Those seconds of rest did nothing to cease the fire that burned up in him. Xiao tangled his hands in your hair to hurry you into needy kisses.

You slid your hand beneath the elastic of his pants to pull them down midway to his thighs and wrap it around his stiff cock. A small sound vibrated within his throat because he held it back, but that didn't deter you from continuing your touches. You swiped your thumb on the tip, smearing it with his pre. You stroked it, feeling the malleable skin harden and grow hotter with your attention. More beads of precum dripped on your hand, resulting in a smoother movement.

“C-Comin',” The obscene word with which he had grown familiar, it still caused some bashfulness to express it. “I don't want to get your hand dirty—”

You hurried your pace, the slick sounds coming from down there proving that it wasn't a difficult task to do. Xiao's brows furrowed, and he bit his lip hard when he came, spurts of it landing on your wrist and fingers.

Xiao stared at your complacent smile; his bewilderment grew when he saw you lick your fingers clean.

He sat up with a new resolution. He grabbed your shoulders. “You haven't come yet. I... I’ll help you with that.”

“Oh, don't worry about it!”

“Not fair. I also want to taste you.”

It was not like he needed to beg for it more; his eagerness to please you was enough. It was Xiao’s turn to push you against the ground, get rid of your clothes, and, without missing a beat, went straight to what he desired.

This wasn’t the first time you shared an intimate night with him, and thus, Xiao had a solid idea of what to do to please you. He spread you open with his fingers, and his tongue delved between your folds, slurping and sucking. It gently thrusted inside, tasting, and swallowing you before his mouth sought your clit, repeating the suction and the licks there. The tremors in your body signaled to him of your impending orgasm, his soft lips and hot tongue stimulated you with more vigor.

When the inescapable happened, Xiao’s awaiting mouth opened to drink you up, licking the remnants of your slick on your thighs.

While you caught your breath, attention lost in the starry sky, Xiao loomed over your form. He was blushing, looking like he didn’t know what to do with himself, and with his dick poking at your entrance. Seeing you enjoy yourself that much aroused him again, ready for another round.

And you were, oh, sore and aching—yet you wanted it as much.

#genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #xiao smut

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tempests-bards-and-birds · 15 days ago

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i think that one of the most tragic aspects of venti's character is the fact that no matter how hard he tries, no replication that he can make of the bard will ever be perfect because for a single image or concept to be long-lasting and static goes entirely against the nature of the wind.

it has been consistently emphasised throughout the game that "seeds of stories brought by the wind" will be "cultivated" by time - in other words, they will grow, but they will never remain the same as they were when they were first told; to try to remove that element of warping and artistic interpretation that is inevitable as a story is passed on is like trying to bottle up a storm and hoping that'll stop it from damaging the surroundings - instead, no one will ever know about it, and the only thing that it will have left to destroy will be itself.

venti is basically doing exactly this by trying to preserve the bard's memory - the only way to stop it from being warped would be to remove it from any kind of environment where that could happen, which would require taking the story out of circulation, which then means that he is the only living being who knows it in its whole detail and entirety. he understands, however, the fallibility of his own memory, as can be seen in how reminders of it seem to shake him; in his story quest, he seems strangely unguarded after resolving the situation with hans (whose story is massively identical to venti's for a reason - having a mirror can be very useful for storytelling, and genshin relies on it perhaps a bit too much), describing the barbatos statue as "the usual place" despite the fact that for our traveler, it is not (this ties into another theory that i am Not going into here lol). we know that venti prizes being able to keep a certain level of anonymity, with him describing the traveler's high level of intuition as "scary", so for him to show even the slightest level of disregard for maintaining his façade suggests that being faced with the reality of the impossibility of his self-imposed purpose is something that did really bother him (which tbf makes sense now that i write it out).

comparisons have been made before between venti and zhongli wherein the irony of having a god of wind whose appearance is unchanging and a god of stone who is (supposedly, if we assume zhongli's teasing about his own past forms to be reflective of the truth) in contrast constantly shifting is often key, and in a lot of ways zhongli's situation does mirror venti's in many ways; he theoretically has the ability to accurately preserve history as one would by carving it into stone, and yet it is almost as if he lets it slip through his fingers instead - he finds humour in inaccurate historical accounts and allows himself to change, not just physically but in terms of attitude (the whole point of the liyue aq is for him to be able to do this; to live as a mortal after millenia spent overseeing as a god). in many ways venti and zhongli are polar opposites, but the theme of wanting to transcend one's physical constraints, of wanting a state of existence that the other already in theory has, is consistent throughout both.

venti, however, seems to be so much more uncomfortable with this than zhongli is, and this awareness of the issue while still being so bothered by it to the extent that he pushes it away even more, causing the pressure in that jar to by extension increase too, is where the true point of tragedy lies.

maybe, though, by deciding to share the bard's story with the traveler, he is beginning to accept the necessity for change.

#venti #zhongli #god i spent way too long writing this #it's probably incoherent as fuck but i can't bear to look at it for a second longer. don't be like me kids. actually proof read your essays #genshin

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