#genshin dainsleif x fem!reader

[cloudfox42]

Imagine your fictional crush kissing and cuddling all the parts of your body that you hate. Worshipping all your body image problems into oblivion.

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

How they Propose (Xiao, Dainsleif, Zhongli)

Thanks to @stygianoir for requesting and giving me some ideas. But I won’t blabber any more

Characters: Xiao, Dain, and Zhongli

Fluff, Fem!reader (no pronouns used) under the cut

Xiao

Let’s go with the hardest first

It is so hard to imagine Xiao proposing, if I’m honest. He’s not the kind to do research on human traditions and rituals

But if he did it was because Zhongli mentioned it or because you did

Once it came up and once he gave it some thought (and probably consulted someone more knowledgeable), he’d propose

His proposal would be something super simple. Even though he would totally want to do right by you, the guy is pretty direct and his proposal would reflect that

Maybe on a warm summer’s night he’d take your hand a slip the ring on your finger while asking. He totally blushes and definitely stumbles over his words but is visibly happy when you agree

Dainsleif

Dain is also a hard one

You had to bring it up and when you did he kinda tilted his head and was like “huh? marriage? What for?”

I mean, he’s been alone long enough he’d be the kind to really not think about it until someone else mentioned it

You weren’t mad at the reaction per se, but you walked off to let him think it over

And he did. He spent a lot of time thinking over it, trying to figure out where to get a ring--it’s not like he can ask an abyss herald or anything-- and working through how people do the marriage thing this many years after the downfall of Khaenri’ah

When he proposes, you’ve all but forgotten about the conversation, so you’re pleasantly surprised when he takes a knee and asks you to marry him

Unlike Xiao he’s super formal about it. As the Twilight sword, he’s no stranger to ceremony and formality and as direct as he is, you’re worth it

He’s actually scared when you don’t reply immediately, but gives you a rare wide smile when you accept

Zhongli

This guy has his shit together

Like, I still don’t entirely how his “those who renege on their contracts face the wrath of the rock” thing  works in a relationship but he’s not nearly as... inexperienced with people as Dain and Xiao are

100% done according to Liyue tradition. What that tradition is, I have no idea, but I can imagine it being  a warm spring evening

The two of you are on a walk enjoying the wonderful weather when he leads you to a less visible place (Can’t see him letting others see what should be an intimate moment)

When he’s sure that the two of you won’t be disturbed, he gets down on one knee and pops the question

When you say yes he gives you one of his amazing close-eyed smiles

He’s lived for 6000 years, but this is going to be one off the memories he treasures most

[jessamine-rose]

⋆˚♱ଘ Phantom Pain ଓ♱˚⋆

When I wrote the first fic of my Yandere Church AU, I never expected it to expand into a whole series. Now it’s time for Cartaphilus! Dainsleif x Yandere! Demon! Reader………and yes, Dain is the darling in this fic ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ

I hope y’all enjoy their twisted story and the cameos to my previous fics!! Special thanks to my beta-reader @diodellet, @brynn-lear who helped me with Dain’s characterization, and all of my mutuals who listened to my brainrot~

Tw:: YANDERE, psychological trauma, blood, graphic violence, death, stalking, dubcon, noncon, mention of nsfw, MDNI, please take note of all of these warnings

Notes:: Female reader, FICTIONAL depictions of religion, inspired by Cartaphilus from The Ancient Magus’ Bride, I’m sorry Dain (*´꒳`*)

♡ 7.3k words under the cut ♡

♡ Among God’s creations, His favorite is granted a special fate. Though all lives end in death, only humanity is blessed with salvation and afterlife. Those who live righteously may thus ascend to Heaven, whereas sinners are condemned to eternal suffering in Hell. There is, however, one exception—a fragment of humanity whose sins may never be forgiven.

♡ Legends speak of Khaenri’ah, the nation of sinners. Once the pride of humankind, its citizens challenged God through their creations in alchemy and technology—and the entire nation was subsequently destroyed in a sea of flames. In the wake of the Cataclysm, pollen from the Tree of Life rained down upon the survivors, afflicting them with their final punishment, immortality.

♡ Since then, Khaenri’ahns have roamed the mortal plane in a perpetual state of living. Denied a place in Heaven and Hell, they are cursed to live forever no matter what harm befalls their body and psyche. Due to their wicked reputation, they must also live in fear of their once-fellow humans, lest they face persecution. For this reason, eternity differs among Khaenri’ahns.

♡ After the Cataclysm, the survivors scattered across Teyvat. Many established secret communities to preserve their culture and find solace in companionship. Others settled in foreign nations, periodically assuming new identities to evade suspicion. And a few became travelers, moving from place to place with no home to call their own.

♡ One such traveler is Dainsleif. After failing to prevent the destruction of his nation, he began an endless journey around Teyvat. His initial goal was to protect his fellow survivors and seek a cure for their curse. But as Khaenri’ah faded from memory, so did its people. Many succumbed to pain, madness, violence—and despite his best efforts, Dainsleif was unable to save any of them. In the perpetual meantime of a cruel eternity, all he could do was travel onwards, clinging to a thread of hope.

♡ That all changes when he wanders into the ruins of an ancient temple, 300 years after the Cataclysm. Had he known it was a place of worship, Dainsleif would have camped outside. But the structure is abandoned, inconspicuous, a perfect shelter against the ongoing storm. So he goes inside, lighting the way with his Khaenri’ahn sorcery. And only when he meets you does he realize he’d set foot in unholy ground.

♡ A pattern glows on the floor—a summoning circle he’d unknowingly stepped into, concealed with splatters of dried blood. From it, a winged figure emerges in a burst of light and slams him against the cracked tiles. Dizzily, he registers a strong hand pressing down on his neck, an aura of overwhelming divinity, a brilliant glare that strikes fear into his very soul.

˖⋆‧˚✦

“Ah, let’s see. Just when I thought this place had succumbed to the elements, who has the insolence to summon me?”

In your divine presence, Dainsleif can only look up and take in your inhuman features. Sharp talons. Four wings with silvery black-and-gray feathers, resembling an eagle’s plumage. A single horn jutting from the left side of your head. Eyes as bright as miniature suns.

A demon. How in the world did he summon a demon?

He glances at the sigil etched on the floor. From what he knows of these rituals, they are only successful if specific instructions are followed and the demon’s true name is uttered. Was it because he used Khaenri’ahn sorcery within the summoning circle?

He meets your gaze. “I never intended—”

Your eyes widen. “Oh?”

Still gripping his neck, you lift him up and brush the loose strands of hair away from his face. The action uncovers his eyes, bright blue with pupils shaped like four-pointed stars.

“A Khaenri’ahn?”

At this point, Dainsleif doesn’t know what to do. He struggles in your grasp, only to stop when your talons dig into his skin. Your gaze remains locked onto his.

Slowly, your lips curve into a fanged smile.

“And such a pretty one at that.”

˖⋆‧˚✦

♡ Somehow, Dainsleif’s curse has saved him from your wrath. Still, he remains vigilant as you put him down and demand to hear his life story—why, when you have already glimpsed his soul? Reluctantly, he tells you everything from his previous life to the circumstances that brought him to your temple. Once he is finished, you allow him to stay in your temple until the storm ends.

♡ As you move, he notices a trio of jagged scars on your body—one on each shoulder, another one between your first pair of wings. He makes no mention of it, however, and instead asks for your identity. In response to that, you give him an enigmatic smile, whisper your true name, and promptly disappear. The only proof of your encounter is the dark bruise around Dainsleif’s neck.

♡ He doesn’t sleep well. At the crack of dawn, he gets up and does a quick exploration of the temple ruins. From the looks of it, it could be thousands of years old. There are sculpted images of suns, beasts, and paradises. The bloodstained floor implies a violent end for the previous intruders—or was it from your official summoning rituals? At any rate, one thing is clear: You are a powerful demon, one who was previously worshiped as a false god.

♡ He leaves after sunrise, relieved to have survived the ordeal…only for your paths to cross a few days later. And the week after that. Again and again. Most of the time, you appear out of nowhere, invisible to everyone except for Dainsleif. Other times, your presence manifests in a stray feather, inhuman shadows, the persistent feeling that he is being watched.

˖⋆‧˚✦

“Oh, hello, Dain. Did you enjoy your drink?”

“...What have you done?”

In the dark alley, your bloody visage is a terrifying sight. A human is passed out at your feet, their arm covered in deep scratches and blackened veins.

Dainsleif takes a step back. That person…isn’t that the drunkard who tried to start a fight with him at the tavern?

A sinister smile appears on your face. “Don’t worry, I just cast a little curse on them.”

˖⋆‧˚✦

♡ He doesn’t know what to make of his situation. In Khaenri’ah, demons were perceived as wicked creatures that lead humanity down the path of sin. You have yet to harm him, unless your plan is to lull him into a false sense of security first. It would certainly explain your frequent visits, your honeyed words, your cheerful demeanor around him.

♡ During your encounters, he asks you questions. As it turns out, it is difficult to find information on you. Humans usually refer to a specific demon by their title, so your true name is only useful when he is addressing you. You don’t reveal much about yourself, apart from the fact that your current role in Hell is torturing the souls of deceased sinners.

♡ The answer is found in the Sumeru Akademiya. The House of Daena has a forbidden archive that includes grimoires, research on spiritual beings, as well as related literature. It doesn’t take long for him to find the hidden room. As he examines the bookshelves, he notices a few written records of Khaenri’ah, all of which depict his people in a negative light.

♡ He begins with a book about the celestial hierarchy. According to the writer, there are nine ranks of angels and only the Second Order, the Cherubim, have two pairs of eagle wings. They also have four heads—human, lion, ox, eagle…and in the accompanying illustration, the animal heads are located in the exact same place as your scars.

♡ Next is the grimoire of Il Dottore. He flips through the section dedicated to demons, skimming the notes and sigils. There is the Puppeteer, the Fair Lady, the Seeker of Forbidden Knowledge whom Dottore formed a pact with, and so on. Finally, he comes across a familiar sigil.

The Beheaded Cherub

-True name: ______

-Created in the ███ Era, fell from grace in the ██████ Era

-Basic status: 1 head (human), 1 set of fangs (lion), 1 horn (ox), 2 pairs of wings and 10 talons (harpy eagle)

-One of the most powerful demons in Hell by virtue of her previous rank and her prominence in human cognizance. She was once venerated as a false god by the Temple of Light.

-Prior to her descent, she was called “the Beast of Beatitude.” █████ says her divine punishment was the loss of her animal heads and the development of her beastly traits.

-A unique specimen. It is a pity that I could not obtain a sample of her. If we meet again, more insight can be gained into the mental faculties of a fallen Cherub.

♡ The next page has an illustration drawn from memory. It’s you. An ornate choker protects your neck, and your expression is one of wrath. There is also a report of Dottore’s encounter with you: He’d trapped the Puppeteer via exorcism and obtained one of his wings. Before he could do worse, you suddenly appeared and rescued Scaramouche. Dottore theorized that you left without attacking him because you saw the Cherub’s skeleton in his laboratory.

♡ That book leads Dainsleif down a rabbit hole of texts. Historical records of the Temple of Light. Literary depictions of “the Beheaded Cherub.” The sketchbook of an artist whose muses were demons. Reports of mysterious curses that manifested in pain and disfigurement. All of those sources point to you.

♡ Well, one thing is clear: He is doomed. It’s bad enough that he is dealing with a spiritual being, what more a powerful one. It is at this moment that he senses your presence behind him.

˖⋆‧˚✦

“Hello, Dain. I see you’ve figured out who I am.”

This time, he doesn’t look at you. “You never told me of your appetite for humans. Just how many were sacrificed for the Temple of Light’s offerings?”

Silence. Dainsleif continues to face the desk, closing the book in his hands.

Finally, you answer him. “That was not my command. The Temple of Light was founded by one of my earliest humans. Most of their beliefs and rituals were his own ideas, believe it or not.”

“And where is he now? Is he one of those sinners that you are so fond of torturing?”

He can imagine the sight behind him: You, in all of your demonic glory, casting large shadows against the walls. It is easy to reconcile your image with your sinister depictions.

“No,” you reply. “Once a human dies, all of their pacts are broken. As such, I have no reason to maintain ties with my former humans, especially the one who gave me such a wretched title. I let my coworkers handle their punishments.”

“And do you intend to make a deal with me as well?”

It is the only rational explanation he can think of.

“Wrong again. As a matter of fact, demons cannot form pacts with Khaenri’ahns, hence our indifference to your kind. What use is there for a soul that will never enter Hell?”

Dainsleif glances at the Lesser Key of Deshret. According to that source, most humans sought you out for the purpose of cursing their enemies.

He turns around. “Let me ask you this. Why are you following me?”

In the candlelight, your gaze has never looked more intense. “Is it not enough to say that I am mesmerized by you?”

The look he gives you is one of pure doubt.

You stand in front of him, touching his half-mask.

“I saw it all, Dainsleif,” you tell him, “when I looked into your soul. Your righteousness as the Twilight Sword, your perseverance after the Cataclysm, the hope you’ve clung to for all these centuries…I find it all so fascinating.”

He pulls away, glaring. “Is that all? A mere sense of curiosity?”

You smile at him. “Well, there is also your beauty. When I look at you, I can almost understand why humanity is the only creation which God deemed perfect.”

“Your flattery is as banal as it is unwarranted,” he scoffs. Stepping aside, he tidies up the desk and returns the books to their shelves. “I have never received the favor of God in the past. I don't see any reason I would need yours now or in the future, either.”

That is when you burst into laughter.

“Are you sure about that? Believe me, Dain, I have a lot to offer.”

As you push him against the wall, your expression becomes deathly serious.

“Two centuries ago,” you whisper, “a Khaenri’ahn was burned at the stake in Fontaine. She survived, of course, but was left with scars that will never heal. Another one encountered the wrong group of heretics and, to this day, his body is being used for their rituals.”

“I…” Dread pools up in his stomach. Does he know those individuals?

“And just last year, I heard the Church of Snezhnaya discovered a community of Khaenri’ahns and buried everyone alive. They’re all trapped underground, barely conscious. But even if they are freed, I doubt their bodies could still function after being deprived of nutrients for so long.”

Snezhnaya…are you talking about the one led by Pierro?

“Oh, and how could I forget?” You lean closer, your eyes reflecting Dainsleif’s agonized face. “Long before the Cataclysm, the Tree of Life disappeared from the human realm. Nobody, not even the angels, knows if it still exists. What more for the Khaenri’ahns who dedicated their eternity to searching for it?”

No.

If the Tree of Life is gone…

Does that mean there is truly no way to break the curse?

At this point, Dainsleif is trembling. “______, please tell me you are—mph!”

There is nothing gentle about your kiss. The back of his head hits the wall, and his mask falls to the floor. When he tries to resist, you capture his wrists in an iron grip.

It’s too much. Panicking, he resorts to his Khaenri’ahn sorcery but the galaxy-like aura is easily extinguished by your radiant light. You spread your wings, caging him in silvery feathers. Sharp fangs graze his bottom lip. He can’t do anything. He has to call for help—

Footsteps echo outside the room.

Just as quickly as the idea comes to mind, Dainsleif falls silent. What is he thinking? What if the scholar sees his cursed marks and realizes he is a Khaenri’ahn?

He stays still, praying the door remains locked. When the footsteps recede, he slumps against the wall.

His relief isn’t lost on you. Pulling away, you trace the blue veins and black marks on his face. A sinful smile plays on your lips.

“Do you understand, darling? No one, not even God, will save you.”

˖⋆‧˚✦

♡ After that revelation, Dainsleif continues to wander Teyvat. But he does so aimlessly, in your company. There are attempts to ward you off—religious objects, carefully-worded negotiations, a few hours spent inside a church—but all end in your amused reactions. It becomes routine for you to meet him every few days, providing Mora for his expenses and information on the places he visits.

♡ Your threats are no laughing matter. Thankfully, your violence never exceeds the severity of your first meeting. A strong grip on his hand. Talons playfully tracing his cursed marks. There is that time you swooped in, picked him up, and threatened to drop him off a cliff for trying to hide from you…then you later brushed it off as an empty threat.

♡ You’re also very affectionate, if such a word can be used to describe a demon. At one point, you begin leaving gifts for him—a new cloak, bejeweled hairpins, gems in the same shade of blue as his eyes. He tries to decline your gifts on the basis of practicality but you’re difficult to persuade. Moreover, he keeps finding your stray feathers on his clothes.

♡ Then there is the matter of your physical intimacy. By now, Dainsleif is used to your kisses and cuddles. The worst part is when your hands wander, when you defile his body after sundown, when his resistance crumbles into moans and tears. Those nights always end in his skin tainted with love bites, teeth marks, light scratches. Thankfully, you are unable to brand him with your sigil though that doesn’t stop you from longingly biting the back of his neck.

˖⋆‧˚✦

“______, that’s enough.”

“Hmm?” You press another kiss to his shoulder. “What did you say?”

He gives you a tired look. “I need to sleep.”

Just how unending is a demon’s stamina? It’s past midnight, and he doubts he will be able to leave the bed later. Perhaps he can ask the innkeeper for an extension.

“All right.” You pull the blankets over the two of you. Then you wrap your arms around him, keeping him close. “I’ll give you enough Mora for a week’s stay.”

He lies on his side, staring at the wall. “You don’t have to.”

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep. In a few minutes, your grip loosens and all Dainsleif can hear is his own breathing. Carefully, he turns over to face you.

…He never knows how to deal with you after your depravity has been exhausted. You’re always gentle as you clean him up and cuddle him in bed. When you sleep, you are no different from a corpse. No sounds, no movements, a neutral expression on your face.

Sighing, he shifts to a more comfortable position and closes his eyes.

When he wakes up, you are gone. Your side of the bed is still warm.

˖⋆‧˚✦

♡ A few years later, you decide to accompany Dainsleif in a different form. It all starts when he meets a fellow traveler in Mondstadt. They’d camped in the same forest and it was hard to ignore them, especially when they asked for his help. In the end, Dainsleif relented and they explored the forest together. He thought it would be safe since you never visit him on Sundays.

♡ He leaves the forest the next morning, after agreeing to lunch at a nearby tavern. But when he arrives, he finds his acquaintance being restrained and dragged into a medical vehicle. They are absolutely feral, but most alarming are the wounds on their face. Before they pass out, Dainsleif makes eye contact with them and notices an indigo glint in their eyes.

♡ A waiter fills him in on what happened: His acquaintance suddenly went mad, made a mess in the tavern, and ran straight into a mirror. When Dainsleif visits them at the clinic, they are visibly disoriented, claiming they didn’t know what came over them. They are escorted home a few days later, their face covered in scars, and Dainsleif never sees them again.

♡ The next day, he is strolling around Mondstadt City when a familiar pair of arms wraps around him. He muffles a gasp and turns around to give you a subtle glare—have you forgotten that he is in public?—only to stop when he sees you. Your demonic features are gone, and you are wearing traveler’s attire. Moreover, the surrounding humans can also see you.

˖⋆‧˚✦

“So, darling, do you like my human guise?”

The smile hasn’t left your face. It’s natural, considering the fact that Dainsleif is the one holding your hand and leading you to a secluded spot.

He lets go of you. “What are you planning now?”

You frown, placing the same hand over your chest. “I just wanted to spend more time with you. It’s no fun when you ignore me in the presence of humans.”

“______.” Your name leaves his lips in an exasperated voice. “How can I be sure that you won’t draw more attention to me?”

“Hey, have more faith in me,” you pout. In this form, you look significantly less imposing. “I’ve used this guise many times in the past. And isn’t it easier for you to interact with me this way, rather than pretend I’m not right in front of you?”

It’s not like any amount of persuasion would work on you.

He sighs. “Well, that’s as good a reason as any. Follow me, then.”

With that, the two of you return to the Market District. Dainsleif orders two chicken-mushroom skewers, not missing the way your eyes sparkle when he asks you if you want anything else.

A few feet away, a Mondstadter casts a flirtatious glance at him. But before they can approach him, you wrap your arm around his waist and scare them off with a fervent glare.

˖⋆‧˚✦

♡ Your human guise brings about more changes in Dainsleif’s journey, from couple promos to less strangers bothering him. At times, you break away from him to pet wild animals or purchase items for yourself. In those moments, he can’t help but watch you from a distance. Your face is capable of many expressions, he observes, some of which are actually quite nice to look at.

♡ You also continue to share valuable information with him. Once, Dainsleif picks up a book entitled Molten Moment. In the foreword, the author claimed that it was based on the life of a demon they’d formed a pact with. Not only did you confirm the truth to their story, you also stop at a certain chapter. In it, the protagonist spoke to a Power whose true name was of Khaenri’ahn origin.

♡ That is how Dainsleif learns there are angels who look like Khaenri’ahns. They have the same starry eyes and facial features as his people, though God stopped creating them a long time ago. Many of them became demons for opposing the Cataclysm out of personal attachment to Khaenri’ah. And those who remained as angels rarely use their human guise in the present.

♡ And when Dainsleif asks about the Power featured in the book, you give him a sad smile. Then you say something about a fight you lost, sparring sessions, and regular conversations. In the present, however, your encounters with Il Capitano are only a painful reminder that you are “no longer at full strength.”

♡ You also explain that unlike angels, demons typically aren’t close with one another. Though you do mention a pair of younger demons that you took in after their descent. There is a soft look in your eyes every time you talk about Scaramouche and Pantalone, and you like to buy souvenirs for them. In times like this, Dainsleif is reminded of the family he lost, the home he can never return to.

˖⋆‧˚✦

Bright. It’s too bright.

Dainsleif looks up. The sky is crimson, reflecting the sea of flames consuming his homeland.

Beneath him, the ground shatters into fragments. Screams of terror echo in the distance. All around him, he is greeted with chaos and destruction.

Where is Halfdan? What happened to the Royal Guards? How many more people are going to meet their end?

Suddenly, a ray of light shines upon his nation, so bright that it hurts his eyes. What are those particles raining down from the sky?

It burns.

He falls to his knees, coughing. Something is wrong. His body…he raises his right hand and watches in horror as the skin becomes corrupted.

Amidst his pain, all he can think of are the people he failed to protect.

-

“Dain? Dain, wake up!”

The holy light disappears.

Blearily, Dainsleif opens his eyes to darkness. A hand is on his shoulder, shaking him awake.

“What…?”

“Shh, it’s okay.” Your face comes into view. Gently, you pull him into a sitting position and rub soothing circles on his back. “It was just a dream.”

Another nightmare.

He glances at the window. The night sky is cloudy.

“Take deep breaths,” you continue. Your eyes, shining with a soft radiance, are the only source of light in the room. The tip of your wing brushes against his cheek—was he crying in his sleep?

For once, Dainsleif doesn’t back away from your touch. He leans against you, trying to steady himself, his gaze still fixed on the starless sky.

Hesitantly, you ask, “It was about the Cataclysm, wasn’t it? Do you want to talk about it?”

“...There is no need,” he mumbles. “My dreams are a rarity. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s fine.”

He draws back, taking note of your worried expression. “Did I startle you?”

“Ah, not really,” you reply. Strands of hair are tangled around your horn, and you comb them out with your fingers. “....Though if I’m going to be honest, a part of me was curious.”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

Your wings twitch. “It’s nothing, really. It’s just…I’ve always wondered what a nightmare feels like, since I am incapable of dreaming.”

“I see…is that a common trait amongst demons?”

You shake your head. “No. In fact, it’s one of the first abilities a demon gains after their descent. But in the millennia since I’ve been cast out of Heaven, I haven’t had a single dream.”

His gaze drifts to your scars. “Does it have something to do with your divine punishment?”

As soon as you look away, he realizes it was a correct guess.

“Say, darling,” you mutter. “Can you stand the sight of your cursed marks?”

He looks at his right hand. “At one point, I stopped dwelling on it.”

“Well, at least those marks are easy to cover up.”

This time, Dainsleif is the one staring at you.

This isn’t his first time seeing cracks in your demeanor. He has noticed many over the years, from the occasional headache to your wistful gaze directed at eagles flying overhead. Once, you suddenly flinched and touched one of your scars, only to brush it off when he asked about it.

Even if you take pride in your demonic visage, it doesn’t erase the scars of your past.

“Do you believe your god to have punished you fairly?”

You meet his gaze, frowning. “What did you say?”

“Forgive me for being direct,” he tells you. “You do not pry into my secrets, so I never pried into yours…but if you would like to tell me, I will listen.”

For a few seconds, you just stare back at him. Are you glimpsing his soul again? From his end, all he can see is your gaze turning dim.

“My answer is no.”

Your expression turns bitter. Dainsleif lets you elaborate.

“When I was an angel,” you whisper, “I used all four of my heads. Seeing the world from every angle, speaking in different sounds, expressing multiple emotions at once…those abilities are what set the Cherubim apart from the rest of God’s creations.”

Your jewelry glitters on the nightstand. Earlier today, you’d worn an esclavage necklace with three cameo pendants. Each pendant bears the image of an animal—a lion, an ox, an eagle.

“So you can imagine how difficult it was to lose them,” you continue. You grip your upper arms, talons digging into your skin. “My beastly heads, all reduced to dust before my remaining eyes. And even then, our creator did not spare what was left of my body.”

A mirror hangs on the wall. It perfectly reflects Dainsleif’s cursed marks and your sorrowful countenance.

“This face was perfectly human until I grew fangs. My talons will always be in my line of sight. And don’t even get me started on the differences between halos and horns. It’s not…!”

Your voice cracks. At the same time, Dainsleif scoots closer to you.

In the dark, your expression looks tired. Resigned.

“So who cares if I looked down on humanity?” you mumble. “Why couldn’t I be forgiven? By now, I’ve lived over half of my life as a demon and yet…it still hurts.”

That ends your confession. You stare at your lap, wings lowered.

What is he supposed to say in this scenario?

From the beginning, Dainsleif knew it would be meaningless to believe in baseless depictions of demons. Still, it’s perplexing to see this side of you, to feel sympathy for the present source of his vexation and anxiety.

Yet in this moment, he finds himself reaching out to you. He copies your soothing gesture from earlier, placing his hand on the area between your wings.

You allow it, resting your head on his shoulder. After a few minutes, you break the silence.

“You know, darling, I’ve always wondered…why do you remain unchanged? Why do you still choose to live righteously when you will never be rewarded with a place in Heaven?”

He looks you in the eye. “That was never my goal. All I’ve ever dreamed of was peace. So even if there is no more hope for me…there must be for my fellow humans.”

At that, you hold his cursed hand and give him a pitying look.

“But darling…at this point, can you even call yourself human?”

˖⋆‧˚✦

♡ Decades pass. Dainsleif continues to wander Teyvat, with you as his sole companion. By now, he has long grown tolerant of your presence…and he has even begun to crave it on the days when you are busy in Hell. But he keeps it a secret, along with the sparks of attraction that he is beginning to feel towards you. Instead, he chalks it up to loneliness. That must be it.

♡ Despite that, his affection reveals itself in subtle gestures. Mint brew for your headaches. Practical gifts such as gloves and weapons. Once, the two of you were exploring Dragonspine when he noticed that your scarf had loosened. He adjusted it for you, careful not to touch your scars; and after your initial shock, you stared ahead and quietly thanked him.

♡ These days, he can’t find any Khaenri’ahns apart from a few descendants. In those cases, he has a short conversation with them then leaves without divulging their ancestry. It’s enough to know that those individuals are spared from the curse and able to live ordinary lives, though he wonders if their ancestors are doing well. He can’t make any new friends, either, due to your possessive nature though he does get acquainted with your “family.”

♡ One day, he wanders Liyue on his own and encounters a bespectacled local. He introduces himself as Pantalone and commissions Dainsleif to collect Noctilucous Jade for him. With nothing else to do, Dainsleif accepts the job but is later paid a much higher price than the 500 Mora he’d charged. But when he objects, Pantalone gives him a saccharine smile and tells him that he is “merely showing generosity towards his Jiejie’s pet.” Then he disappears.

♡ A year after that encounter, you attend the concert of a Snezhnayan singer. The Balladeer has an emotional voice, but Dainsleif is distracted by a familiar glint in their eyes. After the performance, you bring him to the dressing room. The Balladeer is slumped over a chair, their eyes branded with a sigil, and an indigo-eyed demon looms over them. As you congratulate Scaramouche on “another excellent possession,” Dainsleif dreadfully recalls the traveler he met in Mondstadt.

♡ He confronts you about it in your hotel room. A part of him did suspect your involvement in his acquaintance’s disfigurement, but it’s different when you are guiltlessly confirming it. After a fiery argument, Dainsleif goes to sleep and coldly ignores you for the remainder of his stay in Snezhnaya. It was foolish of him to forget about your sinister nature.

♡ Not long after, he realizes that he hasn’t seen you in days. That is odd—usually, you inform him in advance if you have to stay in Hell for an extended period. Or did his outrage finally have its desired effect on you? He continues his journey, nonetheless, but it feels…different. Since meeting you, he had the assurance that his solitariness is only short-lived, that you’d always come back to bother him. But now? He isn’t so sure.

♡ He stops finding molted feathers on his clothes. When he looks in the mirror, he notices that your love bites have all but faded completely from his body. At the sight of his cursed marks, he recalls the nights you’d spend lovingly tracing the corrupted skin. You once told him that the luminous veins compliment his blue eyes, and his response had been a withering look.

♡ He goes to Sumeru. The House of Daena has undergone multiple renovations, and the secret archive has been moved to a new room. He rereads the texts about you and Khaenri’ah, taking note of each inaccuracy. How many years ago was his last visit? Has it really been 200 years since the day he crossed paths with you? So much has changed since then.

♡ Afterwards, Dainsleif finds himself wandering the area near Khaenri’ah. He hasn’t set foot in his homeland ever since the Cataclysm, but memory is a dangerous temptation. Just as he is about to walk away, he hears a loud sob and runs into the ruins.

♡  He finds a young person kneeling in a patch of Inteyvat flowers, hands clasped in prayer. When he calls out to them, they lift their head to reveal tears and star-shaped pupils in their eyes. Their face, however, is pristine. Are their cursed marks concealed with makeup? Or are they just a descendant of Khaenri’ah? Dainsleif crouches in front of them, offering his help…and that is when the person’s destitute expression twists into an eerie grin.

♡ Suddenly, the Inteyvat wrap around his limbs, restraining him. A heavy weight strikes the back of his head—the blunt side of a sword? Through his blurry vision, he watches as a celestial halo and a pair of glittery wings emerge from the body of the “Khaenri’ahn.” Two similar silhouettes appear near them, one in bronze armor and the other adorned with flowers. Everything goes dark.

♡ When he wakes up, he is in what seems to be a church. His body is chained to the altar and he feels dizzy, fading in and out of consciousness. From the looks of the stained-glass windows, it is already night. Beside him is a wounded figure, also restrained, more skeleton than flesh. They blankly stare ahead, unresponsive to his questions, and…is that Halfdan?

♡ The horrifying revelation is worsened by the presence of his attackers. From what Dainsleif can recall of the books he’d read, they are angels from the Second Sphere. The Dominion’s starry gaze is full of hatred as they narrate his comrade’s life after the Cataclysm. Halfdan had stayed behind to search for survivors, up until the angels took over their home. And in the decades since, he had been starved, tortured, kept alive only by the curse.

♡ By the end of their speech, all hope has left Dainsleif. Already, he is on the brink of passing out again and the chains have neutralized his Khaen’riahn sorcery. How can fate be so cruel to him? As the Dominion flies over to him, their multiple eyes blazing with cruelty, he whispers an apology to Halfdan and braces himself for a new world of suffering.

♡ Except they never lay a hand on him. In a burst of light, a taloned hand grabs the Dominion by the halo and slams them against the marble tiles. The other angels scream and cower in fear, a familiar name leaving their lips. Halfdan remains catatonic. As for Dainsleif, all he feels is pure relief at the sight of his savior.

♡ At this moment, you have never looked scarier. Your face is twisted in an expression of animalistic rage, and your glare could outshine the sun. You curse the Dominion this time, followed by the Virtue and the Power, before flying over to Dainsleif and breaking his chains. Before he faints again, he manages to point at Halfdan and beg you to help him as well.

♡ How long was he asleep? When he wakes up, the stained-glass windows are all shattered to reveal a sky the color of twilight. He and Halfdan have been moved to a corner of the church, kept warm by a blanket. And when he looks around the holy sanctuary, all he can see is carnage.

♡ Pieces of armor and flesh are scattered across the floor—the Power, brutally dismembered. Slumped against the double doors is the body of the Virtue, flowers and wings ripped off their cursed body. A rhythmic pattern of thuds directs his attention to the altar, where you are torturing the Dominion.

♡ They’re still alive, but barely. The eyes on their wings have been gouged out, and their halo has been reduced to fragments. You are bashing their face against the altar repeatedly—for how long? They have been disfigured beyond recognition. You ignore their desperate cries for forgiveness, only stopping when Dainsleif calls out to you.

♡ And just like that, your demeanor shifts from ferocity to concern. A loud crack echoes in the church as you finish off the Dominion and leave their corpse on the altar. Then you go over to Dainsleif, reassuring him that he is safe. But in the warmth of your embrace, he can only look at Halfdan.

♡ It’s too late for him. Irreparable damage has already been done to his body, what more for his psyche. Still, Dainsleif finds himself speaking to Halfdan, staring into his blank eyes, asking you if anything can be done to alleviate his pain. And when you ask him how badly he wants to put his comrade out of his misery…he understands the implication. And he tells you to do it.

♡ He doesn’t know if Halfdan can hear him. Nonetheless, Dainsleif forces a smile on his face, thanks him for faithfully doing his duty, and lies about the fate of Khaenri’ah. Then he moves aside, allowing him to crouch in front of Halfdan. Gently, you touch his face and whisper something to him. Then you spread your wings, blocking Dainsleif’s view.

♡ There is another crack. When you fold your wings, Halfdan’s head has been crushed and you are staring into his blank eyes. Glimpsing his soul, you confirm his comatose state and comfort Dainsleif. The rest of the day is spent preparing a makeshift grave and burying Halfdan in it. When you finally leave Khaenri’ah, Dainsleif turns back to face the ruins of his homeland. He hopes that his comrade is having a nice dream.

 ˖⋆‧˚✦

“I can do this by myself, you know.”

“I know. Now stay still, won’t you?”

“Right now, your health is more important.”

“And who are you to decide that?”

“______.” He gives you an exasperated look in the mirror and takes the comb out of your hands. “I am perfectly capable of brushing my own hair.”

The mirror reflects your stubborn expression. “But Dain—”

“I insist.” His gaze drifts to your bandaged shoulder, followed by the bruises near your neck. “Get some rest.”

“Oh, fine.” Shaking your head, you walk away from the vanity table.

Dainsleif faces his reflection. Aside from a bruise on the back of his head, his body is unharmed by the angel attack. To think it has only been a few hours since he left Khaenri’ah and returned to Shapur Hotel with you. He doesn’t know how he managed to get through dinner in his grief-stricken state.

At least his physical pain has subsided. And he feels better after taking a bath, though you were insistent on joining him. You wouldn’t even let him hold the hairdryer.

“Where on earth are my feathers?”

The facade of normalcy is broken by your sudden outburst. When Dainsleif turns to you, he sees you sifting through the clothes he’d just worn.

You give him an indignant look. “No wonder those angels didn’t know—What were you even doing in Khaenri’ah? Couldn’t you have at least waited for me to accompany you?!”

“...I kept them in my bag,” he answers. He walks over to the desk, where he’d placed his mask and the satchel you’d gifted him ten years ago. “I never knew there was a rational purpose to your feathers. I thought it was merely a sign of ownership.”

“Huh? Were you blind to the feathers on my brothers’ clothes?”

“That, I believed to be your equivalent of a family symbol.”

“In the past two centuries, did you even think of asking me about it?!”

He did try, at the start of your companionship, and you only said that he’d regret wasting your feathers. But Dainsleif knows better than to say that right now.

So instead, he yields to your embrace. This close, he can feel your body shaking.

“Do you know how frightened I was when I realized what happened to you?” you whisper.

“Now I do,” he mumbles. He hugs you back, positioning his hands below your lower wings. “Thank you for saving me.”

After a few minutes, he is the one to break the silence.

“Where were you these past weeks? I wondered if we’d ever meet again.”

“Oh, that? I just had a lot on my plate. Another headache, a new batch of sinners…and I figured you’d want some time to yourself. Ah, and I almost forgot!”

This time, you pick up your bloodstained clothes and take something out of your pocket.

“Here.” Facing him, you open the velvet box in your hands.

His eyes widen. “Oh, that’s…”

A ring. This isn’t the first one he has received from you, but it looks special. The gold band is engraved with intricate stars. The stone in the center is smooth, lustrous, with a radiant glow.

“What mineral is this?” he asks.

You tilt your head, and that is when he notices your horn. It looks normal at first glance, but it is shorter by a single inch.

“I commissioned one of the best craftsmen in Hell,” you explain. “How’s this? It should be easier to wear than my feathers, don’t you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” he admits, but his gaze hasn’t left your horn. “Was it—”

“It’s fine.” It sounds like the reassurance isn’t only for him. But he can tell that your smile is genuine. “It’ll grow back.”

“All right, then.” He allows you to lift his cursed hand and slip the ring onto his finger. “…Thank you for the gift.”

“Now, why don’t we get some sleep? It’s been a long day.”

With that, Dainsleif follows you to the bed. As always, you wrap your arms around him, pressing your torso against his back. Your wings also hug him, caging him in silvery feathers.

You press a kiss to his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

He stares ahead. “If you insist.”

The window showcases the second twilight of the day. You continue speaking.

“Tomorrow, do you want to have dinner at Lambad’s Tavern? It’s been a while since we enjoyed a drink together.”

“Sure,” he says. Already, he can feel the temptation of sleep. “And afterwards?”

A taloned fingertip traces the blue veins on his palm. “We can go wherever you want. There are a lot of new places to visit in Sumeru. I’ve heard of a new resort that opened in Inazuma. Oh, and if we leave for Liyue next week, we can get there in time for the Lantern Rite Festival.”

He intertwines your fingers. “I see. That sounds nice.”

He turns his head, facing you. Your eyes are bright, reflecting the stars in his own gaze.

“We can make our decision tomorrow.” With that, you give him a soft smile and close your eyes. “Sweet dreams, Dain.”

“Good night.”

He remains awake, however, long after the sky has turned dark. His hand is still in yours, his new ring glowing brighter than his cursed marks.

…He doesn’t know what to do, honestly. In two days, he has experienced so much, felt so many emotions, and he has yet to process it all. And there is still the winding road of eternity ahead of him, a future that promises anything but salvation. But tonight…

Tonight, he shall close his eyes and accept his fate.

Perhaps he will even dream of you.

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Capitano ๑ Arlecchino ๑ Pantalone ๑ Pierro

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving characters or dynamics not included in my masterlist.

At long last…..Dain’s fic has been written. This has been in my drafts since April, and I’m really happy with how it turned out!! Also, if the first few bullet points look very familiar, that’s because Pierro’s fic also begins with my worldbuilding for Church AU! Khaenri’ah~

Aahhh I had a lot of fun with Darling! Dainsleif and his demon wife. I rlly enjoyed writing their dynamic, so this definitely isn’t the last time I write for them. Who knows?? Maybe I’ll spare Dain and give him less suffering (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Tag a Dainsleif enjoyer!! @leftdestiny-posts @naraven @pranabefall @navxry @teabutmakeitazure @mochinon-yah @harmonysanreads @stickyspeckledlight

[anantaru]

icanf stop thinking abt dainsleif and choking T_T his pretty hands around your throat while he fucks u… rough actions but words filled with praise and as sweet as honey!!! telling u he loves you and how pretty you look like thattt 💕

cw. rough, choking, fem! reader

a/n. currently very busy travelling to different countries due to my work, so enjoy this little drabble i wrote on my notes app while flying 🩷

dainsleif loves how you feel under his roughened palm— how he can recognize your hard gulps and swallows while he‘s pressing his digits into your neck just a little bit more, not too much but also not too faint, so he could notice and experience each flex and hiccup you’d do— in a certain manner, you could state that it‘s the perfect amount of pressure as he saw it.

"fuck— i love you." he pants and fully jerks himself into you, hips spent but determined to push you towards a curling climax— until you feel all bubbly and warm while blissfully crowded with his erect cock. it's almost shameful, how the pearly drops of pebbles threatened to slip from under your sticky lashes at the stimulating stir on your lower region, "you’re so- so pretty." he whimpers above your lips, exhaling the swelling air from his lungs when he feels you more.

"so pretty like this."

dainsleif angles his head towards your direction, winding over your jaw and lips to muffle your like saccharine tasting sobs as the nauseating air surrounding you was beginning to pitch heavier and thicker— cloying, the lack of breathing control teleported you towards bottomless bliss and spirals as your nostrils nose over the penetrating smell of filth and sex, mind overcasted with clouded pleasure.

his hips were relentlessly brushing past the tight ring of your hole and limitless of stamina— slapping erratically into your softness over and over while leaving it to your pretty perfect cunt to gnaw and clench down on his girth to keep him in, languidly stroking him with your spongy insides.

"i love— love you too." you somehow manage to choke out, by how drunk on his cock you appeared to be it was a clear miracle that you were able to squeeze something out at all. your eyes were turning glassy at the stern grip on your neck as his fingers still served as your most dearest necklace— you flutter your lashes open to peevishly admire your lover; how his biceps were wholly tensed and his wet lips widened, his brows eagerly scrunched together as his hips worked in keeping with your own small needy ruts up into his length.

while this alone was almost too much for dainsleif to properly function anymore— he's so terribly addicted and in love with you, it's comical, almost. how you cannot stop drifting your eyes off him, petulantly blinking and pouting at him from under your splashed lashes, all pseudo shy and stimulated, pleased by him and him alone.

even for a man with his level of self restraint, he needed to cum now, all over you— and mark you from the inside out, until you‘re gushing and guzzling up all he gives you, until his heavy cum webs further into your skin and fills your womb with nothing but his whites.

your cunt helplessly pulses around his girth and he nudges his cock closer to you, most prominently deeper until ghosting on to the deepest pleasuring spots in your puffy pussy, settling all the sloppy mess of his seed and your liquids inside of you while the overflow coated him up entirely, leaving nothing untouched.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[glassrowboat]

How about "I promise I'll keep you safe, no matter what" with Dainsleif (if that's okay)?

Emerald Sea. Dainsleif.

Author's note: I'm not sorry. Also the amount of times I had to double check I didn't spell Dain's name wrong was...fun...

Word count: 2,100+

Red was everywhere.

It painted the sky in a sunset hue that had your head turning up to catch a glimpse of the coming dawn only to draw back in horror rather than delight, you could find it in a wet sock splayed across a broken stone, a coin purse spilling its contents, and an arm that hung from a windowsill Dainsleif barely caught as his eyes scanned the scene before him.

This was a play picturing the most beautiful tragedy you could ever imagine. Romeo and Juliet paled in comparison, for what could compare to the most beautiful rose that pricked at your skin and drew your very own blood for it to taste? To delight in your suffering as your hand draws back in misery.

A play of the Archons making.

A breeze brushed his cheek, whistled in his one good ear, and Dainsleif could have sworn that was Celestia itself clapping at the show they deigned to put on. He wanted to shout at them to stop, to cease using them, his people, as puppets on their makeshift stage, but the words ‘protect the people of Khaenri’ah at all costs’ stilled his tongue. Weighed it down until it was nothing but led. The taste of iron danced on his tongue.

Halfdan, who he had only briefly come across to bark orders at, was undoubtedly at the palace by now; a sword still held between his hands. That is, if they haven't already fallen still.

Loyal to the end, just like he was supposed to be, yet Dainsleif couldn't help but feel like the oath he had pledged, sworn himself to all those years ago, suddenly felt incomplete. Broken, like he hadn't taken a knee before King Irmin's watchful eyes and laid a hand to his chest in reverence.

For how could a royal guard keep his oath to a nation falling apart before him?

In the flames that burned his home, Dainsleif recounted exactly what he said that day, but somehow they fell flat compared to the ones he made to you.

On another much sweeter day where there was no ash in his nose but instead the scent of flowers. White and blue petals shaking as your hands trembled in what he could only have guessed, or perhaps hoped, was pure excitement for the years to come.

In white and lace you walked down the aisle.

His brother, Vedrfolnir, had jabbed at Dainsleif's back and told him not to mess this up, and it had only proved to stoke his nerves. Poking at them with a well placed finger rather than a cast iron stick kicking up embers still alight.

When you finally stood before him, Dainsleif swore he could hear his own mind sizzling away as he took you in. Even as you teased him. “I'm glad to see you're not wearing your uniform.” Whispered under your breath so only you, him, and the officiant could hear.

Not that the old man with a raised brow ready to get on with the whole ceremony had stopped him from saying back: “Will you ever let that go?”

“You shouldn't have worn your uniform on our first date.” You shrugged. “Though, you do look good in a suit.”

And no swan, no matter how pure its feathers, could compare to you.

Taking your hands then had been easier, easier than the swordsmanship he had practiced for years on end. Each movement had been ingrained into his skull, his brain, his very being, as he held a weapon that left him with callouses you had taken the time to kiss once upon a time. Holding you that day was like nature itself was guiding Dainsleif as he took another vow.

"I promise I'll keep you safe, I'll love you, no matter what.”

“Til death do us part,” you had sworn as golden rings slid on both your fingers, and your lips fell upon each other.

That day, he hadn't been the Twilight Sword, Captain of the guards, or even the little brother of a highly esteemed man, but himself. And now your husband, too.

Another sizzle as Dainsief's boot met the burning remains of a stall, and he was forced back into the present. A curse on his tongue as Dainsleif nearly tripped over the fabric that had once hung from the wooden beams of another piece of the shabby flea market he had spent hours in.

Vegetables he had once spent his afternoons picking out now strayed across the road. Some stepped on, some bruised, and one- only one- in decent condition.

With a groan, Dainsleif adjusted you on his back.

Even with his right ear still ringing from the blast, Dainsleif had been caught in when the first attack struck he could still pick up your groan. Quiet, barely there, but it was there nonetheless. The smallest noise was all he could cling onto, for hope had no place in war.

“Hold on a little longer.” He told you the same words he had told the knights by his side when the first nail dropped. And another. And another.

Not a single man had laid his weapon down as they all faced their end.

Dainsleif held back his plea, his need to ask you if you were alright as he trudged on. Your fingers twitching with every movement he made was enough to tell him you were still there. The shine of your ring reflected back his own face, scarred with something he couldn't take the time to stop and try to recognize.

A dark black against his blond hair and fair skin.

Another step.

Somewhere far off, he could just barely make out the creeping sun peeking in from the surface, shining through two wide open doors. For where there was shadow, there was light. His home had been cast over with darkness.

Rubbing at his eye, trying to clear the blood threatening to fall into it and block his vision, Dainsleif took another step. Another and another. Your weight shifted on his back all the while as he made his way towards one of the many things the gods of this world had gifted to humanity but denied Khaenri'ah.

The warmth of the fire that had licked at his cape, tried to devour it whole, was replaced by the warmth of the sky above as rays shone on an emerald sea.

Right then and there, Dainsleif dropped to the ground with a thud.

Everything turned black.

Judgment day had come and gone.

Grass tickled his legs as Dainsleif settled down, one leg tucked up to his chest and the other stretched out; the heel of his boot almost hitting a rock. By now, the plant life that had withered in the wake of Khaenri’ah's fall had grown anew. The brown, dead blades that turned to kindling for a flame before him had now come to match the lush green the rest of the world had to offer.

Besides the door, there was no trace of the tragedy that occurred. All of it had been forgotten with time. Yet he could still remember just where the line between emerald and enstatite had been, for it was right where he had collapsed.

You had followed with him as you both plummeted into the arms of another nation: Sumeru.

The Sumeru that had been spared from any tragedy. Not even the life of a stray bird had been claimed. When all those who lived in his own nation had been twisted into something grotesque. Monstrous. To the point they hide behind masks and growl at you to run the moment you get too close.

“Ljúfr.” Beloved. Dainsleif called as he looked down at the leaves of climbing ivy. Claiming, unabashedly, what it clung to. “My day, just like all the rest, has been long.”

Tiring to a fault for he's carrying the burden of memories that slip like sand from his grasp every passing day, but he still knows to tell you of his day just like always. To let you listen to him even if this time you weren't running around the kitchen with an apron on. There were no plates hitting an old (and slightly wobbly) table his father had made as a wedding gift or even the sound of his sheathed sword falling into the umbrella stand beside the front door.

You had always said “it's rude to just bring your weapon indoors and leave it about the place, Ást min,“ when he forgot and put it anywhere else.

My love. How he relished in that sobriquet when it was uttered in such a sweet cadence. Dainsleif could still hear it now in the ear that rang, rang, and rang with the screams of dead men.

Reaching forward, Dainsleif plucked one of the ivy leaves, letting his eyes trail over each vein. A life cut short in an instant, all from tugging on something so frail it snapped under his grasp. For a moment, the thought: is this how Celestia felt that day passed his mind, but just as quickly, Dainsleif pushed it aside with a sigh.

He'd need to cut the ivy back.

With a short knife already in his aching hand, for the curse had taken each and every one of his joints and lit them ablaze, Dainsleif's blade cut through the vines with ease. It took as little effort as stepping on a roach. With each cut, he spoke. Looked up at you and refrained from making a tasteless joke as you basked in the sun you both were still getting used to despite all the years that had passed since living in Khaenri'ah.

Even after all these years in the light, his eyes were still more accustomed to a life underground. To the darkness of the Abyss.

As his knife cut through the last vine, breaking it apart and leaving a sticky residue on his gloves Dainsleif will have to wash the next time they stop at a stream or, if they're lucky enough, a small inn that will take them in for tonight, her voice broke through his thoughts. Halting the endless trampling of muddied boots kicking up mess after mess in his head.

“We should leave soon.”

Dainsleif looked up to see gold shining down on him, a half-hearted smile stretching across her face as she held a hand out to him. Palm unturned, waiting for him to take it.

“We can always come back.”

Dainsleif's grip on the blade tightened, letting the shape of the hilt press into his hand. “Of course, we still have somewhere to be.”

Lumine watched silently as he pocketed the knife away, tucked it in the robes he wore, all without a word. This was nothing new to them, standing silently as the world passed them by with each step on their journey. The sky could change from day to night, all with only shared glances that told more than words ever could, but here? She found Dainsleif always talked freely.

“We should return in the near future.” Dainsleif's hand brushed off the dirt and dust from the stone before him, wiping it as clean as he could with only a well worn glove. “Lest I have more ivy to cut back.”

Just like his sword, waxing at the metal, cleaning it to perfection after every day of use (a habit formed from his time as a knight), he was tedious with what lay before him.

Who lays before him.

Lumine bites back her comment, wanting to remark how Dainseilf must have truly loved the woman buried under grass and dirt, six feet deep and marked with only a makeshift gravestone that had been replaced once, and only once, with something that had your name carved into its gray face.

There was no need to make a comment when she already knew what he would say: Just like his oath to serve, to protect his nation, he failed his promise to you too.

But the golden ring on his finger shined nonetheless.

“I brought flowers this time.” Lumine whispered, hesitant to break his moment of reverie as Dainsleif stared down at the marker. In his eyes, it was clear to see it was the most precious thing this world had to offer and the most precious thing the world had taken from him.

Pulling a single flower from her bag, Lumine held up an inteyvat. The very same white and blue petals he could still imagine next to lace.

There was no thank you uttered as Dainsleif plucked the flower from her hold, but there was no need to when it was said with how delicate he was as he placed it down before you. For while he would make no offerings to the gods, you were another story as he stood there in an emerald sea.

Soon, they would start off on their journey again. All it would take was another step.

[seelestia]

A Blessed Imperfection [1/3]

(submitted by: @/hermosacolibri. all credits go to them, this work isn't mine!)

SYNOPSIS: Many consider your disability as a burden, but he finds a way to make it a blessing in disguise. What makes us flawed is what makes us unique, and that is what he considers the most beautiful thing about you—an imperfection he dearly adores. Nevertheless, he knows of your lingering sorrows and thus seeks a way to support you in the best way he could.

WARNING(S): symptoms of chronic/terminal illness, implications of mental instability, mentions of past trauma resulting to severe injury, possible triggers, panic attacks, sleep paralysis, hallucinations, etc…

CHARACTER(S):

Aether (as Traveler & Abyss Prince), Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Venti, Dainsleif

NOTE: I copy-pasted this from my Quotev so if the format turns bad, that’s why lmao. Part 2 will have the Zhongli and Ayato version I submitted with some other characters from the same nations. Part 3 will be Sumeru boys and Harbingers. I will submit them at a later date lol. Anyway, I would like to leave a shameless promo here for those interested in my writing. HERE is my Quotev. For those who wish to read about my collab story here on Tumblr, it is posted by my co-writer: @intothegenshinworld

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AETHER is like a star in the abyssal sky, constantly in sight yet far out of mortal reach. He carries the wishes of others, granting them in acts of what shall be seen as miracles or blessings. When time arrives for departure, he shoots across the cosmos with a trail of light that leaves witnesses mesmerized. Alas, he whom was born half of a whole, the name of this Traveler is forever bound to that of another—his dear sister, Lumine. Due to these same ties, he undergoes a quest across Teyvat to find her. The promise of a reunion always uttered by his lips, hopeful and eager yet never taking for granted the steps he took.

The lonely young man is at odds with the world. He could barely trust anyone after some god caused him to separate from his younger sibling. However, this humble Viator continues to treat others amiably in hopes to be treated the same way. From nation to nation, the blond adolescent sought answers from this peculiar world that felt so nostalgic yet still so foreign to him. There are trying moments of grief and frustration, but also blissful days of celebration.

Throughout this path, it was entirely unexpected for him to develop an intimate attachment.

Aether was not a stranger to bittersweet partings, as someone whom has always hopped from one world to another. For this same reason, he and Lumine try not to get too invested in any realm they visit. It was better for them as well as for everyone else that welcome them so affectionately. There must always be a particular distance to maintain, since there can be no guarantee of their stay or return. A deeper tragedy is the knowledge they can easily outlive the dwellers of any world. Witnessing the birth and death of many stars since their youth, the twins have grown rather desensitized to friendships that would not last as long as their lifespan.

That is why this separation hits them where it hurts enough to leave a scar.

Then, there was you.

As a mere mortal in a world governed by gods, you are content to live your life the best way you know. It is a lifestyle that can change at your will. One day, you can be exploring as an adventurer. The next, you are a seamstress earning your keep for the week you plan to stay with the spinsters. Every other month, you do a variety of odd jobs that you have learned throughout your lifetime. As a human, you are most hyperaware that everything can be ephemeral…

…and someday, even your soul shall be relinquished to the judgment of Celestia.

Until then, it is yours to do as you see fit.

For this reason, you felt torn by the Pyro Vision that had been bestowed upon you. While most of your peers seek the blessing of the divine gaze, you have subconsciously sought to avoid it. Many saw it as a gift but you were raised under the notion that most presents come with strings. Earning the “eye of god” meant that you are under Celestia’s watchful gaze, thus binding you to the Heavenly Principles. Their elemental blessings taunt mortals to dare reaching for the stars, and gain a place amongst the divine if they are deemed worthy of it.

Well, you personally believe that only thineself can determine one’s worth—no other, not even the gods.

Nevertheless, you move forward. Keep going on a quest without a destination, as you always do, until this fleeting life comes to its inevitable end.

Needless to say, there is one thing you genuinely did not see coming—

“I am so sorry, Miss!”

—and that was meeting your soulmate.

“It’s fine.” You replied.

Aether scrambles to collect your things while you do the same at a more relaxed pace. Your satchel had become so worn that it took a small bump to finally snap the strap. Now, all your possessions have been scattered across the ground. Fortunately, the blond stranger is a very kind and considerate young man.

Once you got everything, said stranger wasted no time apologizing profusely again.

“I should have been looking where I was walking! It was my fault.”

You tilt your head, “You could just make it up to me and we can call it even.”

His aureate eyes beamed as he nodded with an eager smile. At that moment, you wonder if he is the personification of the sun.

You smiled serenely, “I’m [Name].”

He pauses, a flicker of doubt passing through his gaze. Quick as it came, it disappeared as he smiled back—a tad softer.

“Just call me Aether.”

That day, he bought you a new satchel.

When you were younger, your parents always said that one moment is the same as a thousand—you only need one. It was a proverb that both confused and unnerved you. After they died together due to sickness, the words were haunting as you buried them before leaving your village. Every moment was cherished by you, each one unique in the best and worst of ways. However, as both you and Aether keep crossing each other’s paths after one meeting, a part of you finally thrums to life in understanding.

At one point, Aether even sought you out for a joint commission together.

“Don’t you have a travelling partner?” You asked.

He laughs sheepishly, “He’s a bit busy doing other things. Also…”

A light blush colored his cheeks, looking away as he scratched his nape lightly.

“…I wanted to spend some time with you.”

You found him cute so you agreed.

On that particular day, Aether learned something new about you. It was the little things he had been noting every time you met. The way you sometimes slur even though not a drop of alcohol can be traced from your scent, how you try so hard to keep your emotions under a certain level of control, how your eyes randomly droop even when you always look so adequately well-rested, and the pills he saw you sneak into your meals/drinks—you were ill. Perhaps, it was not the traditional ailment that left you weak and bedridden. The scariest symptom has been the occasional hallucinations that distract you, since the more vivid ones tend to set off your Vision. Anything within a meter radius is either set aflame, or rises up in temperature. It is why you always remind him to keep a certain distance whenever you tend to space out. He never prodded because you gave him the same respect of privacy by never prying into his life, even if he saw the incessant curiosity he adored about you. Still, he looks after you because he had to admit he truly grew fond of you.

Then, on your way home, you just abruptly collapsed as if your entire body went boneless.

“[Name]—!!!”

Aether caught you just in time before your head hit the ground. He checks your temperature for a fever, and then searches for some wounds you might have missed. You have a high pain tolerance, which can sometimes be a disadvantage whenever an injury goes unnoticed. There was a time a scratch almost got infected, or even when you nearly bled out because a poison prevented coagulation.

When he saw no signs, the outlander lifts you up in his arms and calls for the nearest doctor.

Thankfully, nothing was amiss and you just needed to rest while adjusting your diet.

Aether witnessed the true horror of your condition when you abruptly woke up half past midnight. He was already passed out on your bedside, sat on the ground and his head resting on his forearms. The chaise lounge would have been practical, but the blond felt the urge to be near you. At some point, he just dozed off.

On the other hand, you jolted awake with a choked gasp and widened eyes of terror. It was not due to any frightening nightmare. This is just how it always goes every time you wake up: frozen stiff, terrified, and barely breathing. Your pupils dilate as your iris moved wildly to make sense of your surroundings, pointedly ignoring the shadows manifesting into something monstrous. The candle on the nightstand was unfortunately almost fully spent, flickering to its last embers of light. With every dance, the shadows seem to get closer and slithering to get their clawed hands on you.

Alas, the candlelight spares you one last hope of salvation amidst this merciless night.

Sunshine golden hair glowed, emitting a silver halo as moonlight peeked from the half-open blinds. As much as you are able, you desperately crane your neck to see your companion. Tears blur your sight but the silhouette is unmistakable to you. His warm breath blew against your fingers, centimeters away from his lips as he breathed. Chilling goosebumps ran across your skin yet you welcomed it, hoping to regain mobility from this nightmarish paralysis. Your hand twitched, wishing to get ahold of this precious little sun—uncaring if it burns.

If you are to be like Icarus, then you would prefer an end embraced by warmth and light…

…instead of ice and darkness.

Perhaps, pyro suited you for this reason.

Your lips purse, crying in anguish to speak.

“A…Ae…A-Aether…”

To your relief, that seems to be enough to awaken the young man. However, respite is all to brief as your chest seizes up. The mere act of breathing gets difficult, and your heartbeat grew alarmingly slow as it echoed alongside the tinnitus in your ears.

Aether blinks awake, expecting the grace of morning light. Instead, he was met with your agonized gaze in a darkening room. In an instant, he snaps into full attention as he cups your face. You cannot hear him but you can guess that he must be firing questions out of concern.

“[Name], what’s wrong?! Are you in pain? What can I do? How can I help?” He exclaimed.

You gasped and hoarsely coughed.

“C-Can’t…breathe…I…”

The blond quickly thinks back to whenever Lumine experienced minor panic attacks. He assumes this is relatively similar, so he hopes his next actions will help rather than harm. Gently and carefully, he takes you into his arms. Back against the headboard, the new position situates you comfortably on his lap as one arm is secured around your waist. He takes both of your trembling hands with his free one, directing them to rest against his sternum.

“[Name],” he says softly yet firmly, “I need you to focus on me, okay? Focus for me. Hey—”

He catches your frantic gaze around the room and mindfully tilts your head back to meet his stare. They are brimming with steadfast reassurance, not at all deterred by the dark beasts. Your head rests against his shoulder, as you do as he told—closing your eyes to only relish his warmth, consume his scent, and listen to his voice.

“Breathe with me. Inhale, exhale…”

His chest rises and falls, to which you mimic the rhythm in return.

“Feel my pulse, and use it as your center.”

One hand keeps hold of his and the other seeks his heart, obeying the instructions.

The hand connected to the arm securing your back drift to your hair. At that moment, you realize that Aether’s hands are ungloved. Wandering fingers comb through your strands, calming you down with a soothing pet. Little by little, you regain movement in your limbs yet you rest limply—content.

“That’s it.” Aether whispered, “You’re doing great. Just keep repeating the exercise with me.”

“Aether…”

“I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You wept and sobbed, “Aether…”

“I know.” He murmurs as he cries with you, “You’ve been so strong, [Name]. Everything’s fine. You’re not alone anymore.”

You look up, “Promise?”

He looks back, “I promise.”

The hand on his chest reaches for his white scarf as you pull him down. He obliges as his grip on you tightened, holding you close while your free hands adjust to interlace with each other.

That was the first kiss of many.

Day or night, Aether stood by you. Every battle was fought together. Every quest was finished together, sometimes with his elusive partner named Dainsleif whom was later introduced to you. On the journey to search for his sister, he even renewed his vows.

“When we find her, you can come with us.”

You smile teasingly, “I don’t have world-hopping powers.”

He narrows his eyes at you, unyieldingly headstrong and determined.

“I’ll find a way to bring you with us anyway.”

He raises your hand to his lips with a sly grin.

“You’re not getting rid of me~!”

Aether cradled you in adoration as if you were an endless summer amidst the cold loneliness of his sister’s absence. You beheld him as if he was the sun bringing life to the paradise of your evanescent mortality. The pair of you were thriving happily, hand in hand, even after discovering the truth of this world—and dictating the journey’s end.

Then, your Vision broke mysteriously, and you were condemned to an enchanted sleep.

Aether cursed the divine and all of Teyvat for it. He figured this was his price for learning the truth, but taking you will be their gravest mistake. He severes his ties with Dainsleif, whom tried to console him into taking the righteous path. He viewed you as his friend as well, and he knew you would not want this for your lover.

Now, the Abyss Prince sits by your bed—waiting in forlorn hope. His ungloved knuckles caress your cheek lovingly. You were dressed in a nightgown with abyss colors, outlined by satin ribbons of silver and gold. A crown of inteyvat rested on your head, petals scattered across your spread locks draped over silk pillows. They have grown after the past centuries but he dutifully trims them to an acceptable length.

“Your Highness,” the Abyss Herald called, “it is time.”

Aether paused. His honey gaze hardens and his aura turns cold. He breathes deeply, eyes closed to lean down and leave a chaste kiss on your brow.

“I will return shortly, my love.”

He puts on his gloves, taking leave resolutely.

Even if the sun turns black, you will both find your way back to each other. Even as the moon is painted red, goodbye shall never be an option. Every star in the sky—false or otherwise—shall bear witness to a union that even the Heavenly Principles would dare not destroy. Should this world be torn asunder, the reckoning cannot spell departure for either you or Aether. This is the eclipse that will pave the way to a new world, as the Abyss Order entails.

For if fate can only be accepted, thy vows shath be sworn by royal decree—

“You are my predestined person, the one I will always choose.”

ALBEDO discovered that there is beauty in what the heart perceives which the eyes cannot see. As an artist, he can grasp onto the concept yet is unable to truly understand it since he heavily relies upon his sight. As an alchemist, whatever eludes him may come into being by his own hands and thus enable him to attain it. The pursuit of truth is a mere matter of time and place, preordained even if hidden. As the most prized creation of Rhinedottir, he was given the task of uncovering the truth of this world for himself as a purpose in life. Even if to exist is a sin in the eyes of Celestia, he must endure and keep moving forward to reach his answers.

Amidst such dedicated research, there was little time and effort to be spared for attachments. The Chief Alchemist of Ordo Favonius finds it much too difficult to maintain. Of course, exceptions has been made throughout the years. Aside from his master, he had bonded with Alice and Klee as family. He had also made friendships with his colleagues amongst the Knights of Favonius and his subordinates, whom he taught the art of alchemy. Alas, as an artificial human created by a sinner, he feels as if he can never belong anywhere. Regardless of these bonds, the Kreideprinz feels as if a part of his heart remains hollow. 

It came to him that this place was reserved for you, the apple of his eye.

Ever since Albedo met you, a new muse began to live within his heart. People consider it as seeing the world through rosy lenses; but for him, it felt as if everything appeared clearer than facts…

…and it was beautiful.

The sun shines brighter. The wind blows cooler. The grass looks greener. Therefore, life is that much greater and sweeter. He is still in pursuit of truth, yet he felt as if the magnum opus was already in his hands—molded in the shape of you.

His only lament was that you could not see it alongside him.

You were not born blind. It happened from an act of jealousy and unkindness. Before you came to the City of Freedom, you were a noblewoman dwelling in Fontaine and worked as an artist. Much like him, you love to paint and draw but Albedo always argues that you were better at it. He had seen your works long ago, and every single piece has never failed to inspire him. It was as if each painting can bequeath aspirations, letting it blossom from the hearts of the people that view it.

Then, news spread that your entire atelier was set on fire while you were still in it…

…and then, you lost your eyes.

The Hydro Vision in your hand may have been the sole reason you even survived. Many speculated that you can never make art the same way again.

You came to Mondstadt, wishing to break free from the suffocating experience. You struggled to regain your passion, overcome your sorrows.

Then, you met Albedo; and one thing led to another.

It started when you were taking a stroll in Springvale with your guide dog, Vincent. He is a very spirited Golden Retriever, protective and responsible. You both stumble upon a young girl named Klee, whom was busy fighting a bunch of hilichurls. You opted to stand aside and calm your snarling canine friend, petting his head. When your keen hearing detected irregular breathing and racing heartbeat, you realize that the little girl was getting overwhelmed. She must have fought other hoards before your arrival, and now you hear slimes joining the fray. Thus, you order Vincent to keep his distance and engaged.

Sword unsheathed from your walking cane, you attack the ones behind Klee. Her bombs startled you when they exploded too close, but your hydro shield easily deflected any friendly fire. Vapor damage is then redirected to the monsters, tempering the girl’s mines and lasers so your skin will not be singed by the building heat. Vincent was barking wildly like a supportive cheerleader, growling whenever you get nicked or whenever the other girl yelped.

Soon, the fight was over.

The pitter-patters of tiny feet went towards you, and stopped at an arm’s length. You look down, smiling kindly yet not sheathing your blade.

“Thank you for helping Klee!” She chirped.

You chuckle, “You’re welcome.”

Vincent came running towards you, shamelessly  nuzzling your legs. He then licks Klee’s hand in his own way of befriending her, causing the girl to giggle from the ticklish sensation. She hugs him around the neck, and you can only tilt your head in amusement.

“What’s your name, Miss?”

“You may call me [Name].”

The hairs at your nape rose. Although you can see nothing else but darkness, your eyes also snapped open with a dark glower. By instinct, you swung your sword to strike whomever snuck behind you.

A resounding clang echoed in your ears, as metal struck against metal. Another sword has parried yours skillfully yet makes no move to counter.

“Brother Albedo…!” Klee exclaims.

Upon realization that this is no stranger, you swiftly disengaged with a soft apology. The gesture was returned as the man apologized for startling you. To your amazement, Vincent did not seem to be wary of this newcomer. The dog merely barked gruffly, a bit admonishing, instead of growling defensively like he always did.

“You dropped this.” Albedo said.

You hesitantly presented your hand to receive whatever he was giving. A familiar cloth is placed on your palm. You belatedly realized that it was your blindfold. It is a durable silk fabric that kept your burn scars from showing. Your disfigured face has been exposed all this time for Klee to see.

It must have been a horrifying sight—

“Your eyes are very pretty, Miss [Name]!”

Your breath hitched at the unexpected compliment, turning away shyly. As you wore the blindfold again, Klee notices Albedo smiling in awe at you. She put up her hands to cover her mouth and muffle her mischievous giggles.

“I agree.” He murmured.

You nodded, “Many thanks.”

Albedo never told you, but for him, it was love at first sight the moment his eyes met yours. There have been solitary days spent in Dragonspine where he wondered tirelessly:

Would it have been a mutual feeling if you could have seen him back then too?

From then onwards, the mysterious alchemist had turned into a close friend. He acted as a personal pillar of support in unexpected ways. The little ball of sunshine that is Klee turned into a source of lighthearted joy for you as well. They tend to visit your home in the city together, offering gifts and knick-knacks. The habitual meetings resulted into some new friends who helped you settle down in Mondstadt, especially Eula. Her own aristocratic lineage helped you two bond about a lot of things, even when she vehemently rejects hers—which is frankly for understandable reasons. You both share the sentiment that genuine nobility upholds the belief of noblesse oblige above all.

Albedo, most of all, enabled you to regain the love you thought had been lost forever with your sight.

Although life still hit hard with how you struggle to create art, your appreciation for it was reborn and you are experiencing everything all over again as something new. Regardless of the burns and scars that made you insecure, the Kreideprinz made you feel nothing less than desirable and deserving of love. Though the blankness of your gaze saddens him, and sometimes even angers him due to the injustice you were dealt—he saw beauty in all that is you, and everything that blossoms from your hands.

Just for a moment, he wanted to show you what he sees the only way he knew: to create.

Vincent guided you into Albedo’s personal art studio in Mondstadt. The canine looked more excited than you. He nipped at the alchemist's white coat, tail wagging as he sat by your feet but paid attention to your lover. Charming eyes swept between you two as if awaiting praise and treats for a job well done.

For a moment, Albedo was reminded of Klee and it made him smile. He kneels down before the dog, patting his head. After a few minutes of petting, he relinquishes the promised treat.

Vincent then ran to his corner, satisfied. Usually, he is very protective and ends up hovering next to you; but with Albedo, he knows you are safe.

You giggled amusedly.

“Sometimes,” your lover sighed, “I think he only likes me to get treats and headpats. He also only comes to me by whining to play.”

You smirked teasingly, “Sounds familiar.”

Albedo paused before giving you a scolding look, yet the twitching smile betrayed him. He was then taken aback when you presented him a small gift bag and a bouquet of cecilia flowers.

“Happy Anniversary~!” You said.

He smiles, accepting your gifts to greet you back.

“Happy Anniversary, [Name].”

Per usual greeting, Albedo takes your hands in his to let them settle. Then, you let go to just feel as they glide across his skin. He closes his eyes to relish your caresses, nuzzling when you reach his face and touched his cheeks. From there, you felt his smile and it spurned yours.

However, as the alchemist opened his eyes, he had witnessed the spark of sadness in yours.

On your first anniversary together, Albedo crafted a special gift. A wooden easel held a blank canvas, or so it seems. If not for the colorful palette and wet brushes, nobody would spare it any glance or even thought. He guides you in front of him, encasing you in his arms and pressing his chest to your back. His lips whispered instructions almost seductively, soft and sensual as he lifted your hands to move them forward.

“Go ahead.” He implored your touch.

Fingertips make contact with what seems to be a canvas, but with bumps on it that definitely felt like braille. Your brows furrowed in confusion, unable to interpret it as anything. You can decipher some sort of pattern, but nothing in the braille alphabet comes to mind that makes sense.

“Don’t think in words, love.” Albedo advised, “Imagine it as you would paint a landscape.”

He is familiar with your art technique. After all, he has always been a fan since he first purchased your work at an auction. His keen observation noticed that the colors bloom from the center. Then, multiple layers come to refine the structure and control the shades. Once the painting is complete, the basic foundations are harder to notice but details never escape Albedo. To him, it felt like he was seeing two images in a single painting: one perceived by sight, and another perceived by heart—dual masterpieces for the price of one.

You follow his words and thus you begin to deduce a work of something.

The braille patterns made you think of Mondstadt’s flower meadows, petals of cecilia and seedheads of dandelions fluttering in the breeze. An orb that seems to be the sun is raised eastward with what appeared to be outlines of birds, aflight in the cloudy horizon. There are faint marks connoting mountains in the distance, and flowing swirls that felt like wave patterns along the coast. To further understand his message, you sought the center much like how you used to paint.

Albedo detects your newfound focus, aware that an image has been imprinted upon your mind.

“[Name],” he murmured tenderly, “I need you to keep your hands on the canvas. I will guide you in this next step. Do you trust me?”

You smiled meaningfully, “Always.”

A loving caress upon your skin is accompanied by a chaste kiss on your crown.

“I cannot give you the world—”

Then, the brailles moved.

“—but I can leave a piece of it in your hands.”

You quickly realize that the brailles were not made of ordinary material. Days and nights of listening to your lover’s random alchemy ramblings allowed you to learn a thing or two. This braille painting has been constructed with special elemental crystals. From the feel of it, they respond strongly to elemental energy—particularly yours and Albedo’s combined, both currently being channeled. Depending on the crystal, it can resonate with other elements.

Beneath your hands, the patterns moved in looping motion to signify that it was animated. Furthermore, the energy that resonated from every shard is almost alive. Anemo can be felt from the swaying of the dandelions, and dendro amplified the scent of the scattered cecilia across the grassland. Even the painted sun emits a comforting warmth due to hints of pyro, as if bathing the scenery with its light. The waves along the shoreline felt moist due to hydro, which resonated strongly with you—and for a short second, you actually miss Fontaine. The mountains are the familiar cold of cryo, which then registered for you that it was likely a reference of Dragonspine.

Just from this, your mind’s eyes can almost envision the outline of a city—one founded by Barbatos.

In Albedo’s eyes, the special formula for the paint which Sucrose helped him concoct had finally revealed itself. To outsiders, the canvas is nothing more but a lumpy surface. In truth, the blind will see its true form; and when given life via elemental energy, the rest will be unveiled. To you whom once knew the colors of the world, the simple animations of the image form a kaleidoscope that provides you melancholic nostalgia. By your fingertips, it certainly felt as if Albedo had given you a piece of the world that only you can see.

For this one moment, he and you can perceive the same world.

Tears gathered in your eyes yet a heartfelt smile radiantly shone upon your face. A sob of genuine happiness wracked your throat. As your knees begin to weaken, you leaned on the man that helped you see again—

—even if only a few seconds.

Albedo also smiled in relief, fully embracing you around the shoulders in support. He let you take in the moment while he basked under the blessing of your presence.

“If there is anything else you wish to see again,” he solemnly swore, “I will be your eyes and shall piously present its sights to you.”

At his oath, you abruptly let go of the painting and turned. Cupping his face in your hands, your lips eagerly meet his. Albedo returns your passionate amor with fervor, ever delighted to please you. He wishes to someday discover the truth of this world, as his master bade him to do. His one desire is that you would be there beside him when he does.

Even if destruction came by his hand, he already knows one truth by heart—

“The beauty of this world forever pales in comparison to you.”

DILUC RAGNVINDR is an uncrowned king raised as a noble gentleman of chivalry and gallantry. From the fiery red of his hair to his stern crimson glare, he upholds his aristocratic lineage with dignity. The cumbersome title of lord dictates the gravity of his obligations to Mondstadt. Whether as a nocturnal vigilante or as master of Dawn Winery, those who dare to threaten his home will face the wrath of his flames. Sinners who refuse penance shall have their blood paint the mighty blade of his claymore, as a furious firebird sends the wicked to retribution.

As a man coveted by many, he keeps his circle small and tightly knit. An outsider’s only chance to ever earn his favor is to either make themselves useful to Mondstadt, or by earning the approval of his more compassionate wife.

That woman is none other than you.

Diluc met you as a playmate in his childhood. His father, Master Crepus, was both a close friend and trusted business partner of your parents. Like the Ragnvindrs, your family specializes in the wine industry—specifically the medicinal values that are incorporated in liquor. Although your own father is from Mondstadt, he settled down in Liyue upon marrying your mother. Secretly, you and Diluc were arranged to be married. Everything worked out well since you both actually liked each other a lot. He was a very protective yet supportive friend, while you were a tactful and encouraging listener. When Kaeya had joined the family, the three of you became quite the inseparable trio.

Then, Crepus Ragnvindr died.

Everything happened so fast. Before you knew it, your fiancé chose to disappear and left only a single note for you as goodbye. It was not even a proper farewell, at least not the kind he made sure to give you every time. Even if there was little to no sincere romance in your engagement, you both respected each other as equals. However, his final note had completely staggered you.

“Don’t wait for me.” It said.

Such a heavy message in merely four words…

You understand what he means by it. He has made a decision wherein he would prefer to not involve you, and thus opting to let you go. The contract regarding the engagement was never too binding. Crepus had assured that either of you can break it off if you both reach such a consensus. However, the former head of the Ragnvindr Clan did not just choose any girl to be paired with his son. He specifically took interest in you because he always knew—if any woman can ever match his son and heir in terms of headstrong stubbornness, it can only be you.

With the patience of a saint, you graciously accepted Diluc’s decision. However, it did not mean you would back down so easily.

Honestly, you see it as poor manners to just leave things with a note. You have to just wait in the Dawn Winery so you can give him a proper scolding upon his inevitable return. Until then, you were more than willing to manage everything else on his behalf. The servants are ecstatic to find out you meant to stay despite their young master’s wishes. Your parents are also very considerate, only ever wishing for your happiness since then and now.

Under your supervision, Dawn Winery flourished and maintained dignity after the loss of its masters. You hold the cunning and integrity of any businessman worth their salt. Adelinde, Elzer, and the entire staff can attest that you are more strict than even the late Lady Ragnvindr—wife of Master Crepus.

Kaeya never confided to you whatever caused the fallout between him and his brother. However, he seemed so relieved and touched when you did not treat him differently. If anything, you seem to dote on him even more now—like a real older sister. He thus returns your kind and loving care equally, a bout of protectiveness that rivals your absent fiancé.

Years later, tragedy struck once again.

You were mistaken as the official Lady Ragnvindr by whichever enemies Diluc had made. They aimed to lure him out by means of threatening his supposed wife, taking you hostage. Despite being Visionless, you were far from a pushover. You did not go down without a fight and worked to plan your escape.

In the end, your captors thought you to be more trouble than your worth…

…and so, they aimed to kill you.

It is only due to Kaeya’s timely arrival this instance that you did not follow Crepus.

However, you did not get out of the incident perfectly unscathed. The brutality you suffered had caused a critical and permanent injury on your spine. It is with heavy hearts that the doctors informed you of the grim situation: you can never walk again.

Diluc promptly returned to Mondstadt when Kaeya relayed the news to him via letter. He had been so devastated to realize that you almost died because of him. He wanted to protect you by letting you go, but he underestimated your resolve. In his mind, he knew the only way to truly get you far away from him is to make you hate him. Upon finding courage to visit you, he doubled down on his determination when he left you years ago. You deserve better, and the life he could give you as Lady Ragnvindr will only be a disappointment. You deserve so much better than waking up to a cold, empty bed and waiting on late nights.

He opened the door to your room in his manor, ready to break your heart so you can leave him.

However, his hardened goal fell short.

You sat by the window, as beautiful as the day he last saw you. Even confined to a wheelchair, you remain smiling so warmly. Your enchanting gaze meets his crimson pair, and he melted at the sheer adoration you bestowed upon him. Your cheeks took a rosy glow, and your smile widened—lips moving to utter words of welcoming him back home, yet he cannot hear a thing. His only thoughts revolved on how badly he wanted to kiss you right now.

Diluc missed you so much, and hence he realized that he really is a fool.

How can he ever survive if he truly broke your heart, the most precious thing you entrusted to him?

“Marry me.” He said.

Much to his surprise, you only laughed and accepted—as if you always believed he would return to you.

It was truly laughable how easily you can weaken his resolve with a mere smile.

“It took you long enough, Master Diluc~!”

You winked at him as you laughed. Despite your lighthearted cheer, the redhead can see that the years apart took a toll on you. He crossed the room in graceful strides and he saw you more vividly. The bags under your eyes did little to dull their sparkle; the hollowness of your cheeks worried him but the rosy hue amplified their glamor; and your pallor was a little too pale for his liking, yet the freckles across your nose reassured him that you get enough sun on a daily basis.

Then, he bends down to hold you close and buries his face at the crook of your neck.

Your heart skipped lightly.

Then, you hugged him back—more tightly.

Diluc said nothing as he felt his shoulder get wet, and you did not make a sound as yours trembled.

“Welcome home.” You whispered.

He grits his teeth to fight against the tears.

“I’m home.” He murmurs.

The marriage started a little awkwardly. Three years had been a long time, and you both had changed in ways that put a strain on your dynamic. However, as you both learned to trust each other the way you did as kids, everything else flowed smoothly. You relied on him as he relied on you. Thanks to your endless patience, you managed to help your dear husband in anything that troubled his heart. At times, it is only by your gentle interventions that his overprotective tendencies can be quelled. It had become norm for the people of Mondstadt to see you at a cozy corner of Angel’s Share—beside the bar, whenever your husband took a shift. Any shenanigans are put to a stop by a warning glare that seemed more scathing than any other nights. None of the patrons—drunk or otherwise—dare to start any ruckus as long as you were present in the tavern.

There is nothing that Diluc kept from you anymore, as he claimed no more secrets. Although, he was curious when you steered clear if the topic is Kaeya.

“It’s not just your secret to share.” You reasoned.

The redhead felt his love and respect for you deepen at the claim.

Now, you sat in your husband’s office. While he was busy doing paperwork, you did embroidery on a silk pillow that got torn. However, there was a stifling air in the room that bothered him.

“What is it?” Diluc asked.

You raise a brow, “What do you mean?”

He stared back knowingly, “You have been redoing the same stitch for the past half hour. That only happens when you’re distracted; and you’re only ever distracted when something is troubling you.”

The redhead leans back on his chair, dropping his quill to cross his arms.

“So,” he continued, “what is it?”

You blushed at the fact you were caught so easily, but also flattered by how he is so attentive to you.

Diluc is then worried by your prolonged hesitance, gradually standing up from his chair. He walks up to you leisurely, kneeling by your side. His gloved hands take yours, mindful of your needlework as he placed it on the table. His vibrant eyes implore you to share your burdens, waiting and encouraging.

“I lied to you.”

He frowns at your blunt confession but said nothing, tilting his head to let you continue.

“On our wedding,” you reminisced, “you asked me what I wanted most so you could provide it. I replied that there was nothing more I could ever want since you asked me to marry you for real.”

Your right hand carefully broke free from his, rising to tuck his fringe away. Your palm rests on his cheek and your husband savored it with fondness. He then recalls being ready to arrange a grandiose wedding that day, remembering how much you rambled about being like a princess in your shared childhood. As a young boy, it used to grate on his nerves; but as your fiancé, Diluc found it necessary to pay attention.

Back then, he did not question it when you asked for a simpler celebration. After all, a lot has changed between him and you—for better and for worse.

“However,” you murmured, “there was one thing I had truly wished to experience with you.”

Your eyes stray away from his, drifting towards the unfinished embroidery pillow. His own eyes follow, and he immediately understands. The picture’s basic design depicts a pair of lovers dancing under the moonlit night. A gazebo frames their silhouettes while lampgrass grew around its base structure.

A wedding dance.

Diluc looks back up to you, smiling in exasperated affection. He then leans forward, taking you into his arms as he stood up. A mild squeak escapes your lips as your own arms clung to his neck, caught off guard by his sudden movement. Your husband steps out of the room while carrying you, yet offers no explanation whatsoever. Although you felt confused, it did not stop you from relaxing in his embrace and just leaning against him.

The redhead took you to the main foyer, and headed straight towards a small library corner. He dismisses the maid stationed to clean it, leaving you both in privacy. First, you were placed on the recliner near the fireplace. Then, he walked towards the old yet pristine gramophone. It belonged to his mother, he vaguely remembers. His father told him that she always loved to collect vinyls, a bittersweet sheen of unconditional love shining in his eyes.

The young lord wonders if the two of you would also remain as in love when you get older together.

“Diluc, what is this all about—”

You trailed off as waltz music began to play.

“When my wife wishes to dance,” he says, “what kind of husband am I to refuse?”

A suave smirk on his handsome face leaves you so utterly breathless. Your heart races, bursting with an unspeakable joy to call this man yours. Captivated by the sight of him, you can only watch as he strides back to you—charming as a prince straight out of a fairy tale book. His gloved hand is presented with a chivalrous bow, his rare theatric side being shown only for you—always only for you.

“May I have this dance, Milady?” He asks.

You gape speechlessly for a minute. A part of you was reluctant. How can you possibly dance in this circumstance? Nonetheless, you trust Diluc more than anything so you accepted.

“You may.”

Diluc gives a dazzling smile at your faith in him, and gently pulls you up. He expertly places your feet on his shoes, carrying your weight as you swayed. One of your hands is on his shoulder while one of his arms is wrapped firmly around your waist, holding you close. Your respective free hands are entwined, inseparable and perfectly at ease.

The marital couple moved fluidly and gracefully. You entrusted your body completely, to be moved in this dance he led confidently. Your patience and trust are returned by his warmth and protection, cradling you in a chrysalis that hopes to let you flourish. He even dares to help you twirl, making the skirt of your dress flutter like the petals of a wild rose in bloom.

The dreamlike sequence ends as he dips you into an intimate position. Heartbeats skip in sync, never of fear but of exhilaration.

Your hands leave his, believing he would never let you fall even if you let go. His grip transferred to your back and your nape, eager to be your support. You caress his face and pull him down for a searingly passionate kiss. He indulges you wholly, taking all that you have willingly given him. Your fingers shook as they entangle with his red mane. With the ease of a man who wields a claymore, he lifts you up. Your arms held tight around his neck, tilting into a new angle to not break the kiss. The fervor is returned a hundred fold, as if Diluc wishes nothing more than to fuse his soul with yours.

You are the one who empowers his flames, igniting his heart as your chosen Ifrit.

He made a vow at the altar, and not even death can do you part anymore—

“The privilege to call you mine is an honor I cannot surrender to fate.”

KAEYA ALBERICH is someone painfully aware of the power in words, and uses it to his advantage. He is as mysterious as he is efficient at being the Cavalry Captain of Ordo Favonius. The charisma he exudes can be as menacing as the frigid coldness of his Cryo Vision. The swiftness of his blade can be more merciful than the secrets he ruthlessly exploits. As much as he is admired by his peers, everyone can unanimously agree that his enigmatic ways leave them a little wary to trust him entirely. Nevertheless, the cunning of a flightless bird is just as deadly as the venom of a pit viper. A reluctance to comply is merely a sign to delve deeper.

In the carefree city of Mondstadt, only one has squared up to his level and defeated him—

—in every sense of the word.

You are the dainty little assistant of Lisa Minci, the resident librarian of Mondstadt. She slyly evades all attempts of divulging how and from where she met you. It is rumored she just found you sewing some of her worn books one day, and then decided that she has to have you as her assistant. The only other thing known about your relationship with her is that she can be extremely protective to the point of territorial. Similarly, nobody can fully understand the eccentricities demonstrated by the Witch of Purple Rose as much as you do. Since your employment, a peaceful synergy can be observed in the workings of the library and even the Knights of Favonius HQ.

The most notable thing about you is how you never limit your goodwill to work. Anyone you can reach is always on the receiving end of compassion. As such examples, Lisa has proudly introduced you to many of her prestigious friends. Since then, it had become a norm for them to see you.

Jean always ends up a little more relaxed with the cups of coffee you brew for her. You serve her tea as a silent insistence when it was time to rest. Albedo and Sucrose now have a habit of asking your referral in finding the best locations for any ingredients they would need. At random times, you appear around the corner to help Noelle in the most menial tasks and labors. Whenever Amber returns from her daily outriding, she would find you welcoming her by the gates with some food and water. Lastly, even Eula has begun picking you up to join her for lunch on weekends. You are the only civilian that never treats her differently, and actually seems to like her very much as a friend.

In a bout of poetic irony, the only one that seems to rarely receive your kindness was Kaeya.

Of course, you were far from unkind or cruel. You still greet him amicably every time you cross paths in the hallways or city streets. However, his shrewd gaze can detect your hesitance to interact with him for prolonged periods of time. Politely asking you about it did him no good as well. You only stared at him skeptically before shrugging, as if he should know the answer. A part of him questioned why it even bothered him so much, but perhaps it was a matter of ego. He knows himself well enough to be aware that it could be the reason he kept persisting on gaining your favor.

When Kaeya decided to tell Lisa about his situation, she had the gall to laugh at him.

“It’s because she sees right through you.”

Kaeya raises a brow, “I beg your pardon?”

Lisa smiles sharply, “My darling [Name] is an astute judge of character. It’s one of the reasons I adore her so much. Like you, she also knows her way with words. The more you talk while she listens, the more she compares the character she sees in your eyes and the persona that speaks with your lips. If they don’t match up, she will consider you to be too dangerous.”

For a moment, the Cavalry Captain felt his eyes darken defensively. A second later, they return to being detachedly bemused.

The Witch of Purple Rose catches the slip but does not comment about it. In fact, she willingly closes her eyes to let the man have his moment. However, she did continue to speak her piece.

“You’re not a bad guy,” she states, “and she knows that well. However, [Name] is the type who does not like to converse with people that refuse to respect the weight of the words they speak.”

A beaming smile is given by the librarian as she pats her colleague on his shoulder.

“Try speaking a little more honestly! It might earn you some brownie points.” She said.

Kaeya wanted to claim he is not going to bother and that he will just leave it at that. Alas, it seems he had found his match and could not resist your allure. In the end, he nodded before taking his leave.

To Lisa’s credit, her advice worked.

Obviously, Kaeya did not lay everything out in the open; but he became more sincere in his efforts to befriend you. To his pleasant surprise, you may be taciturn and reserved but it did not make you shy at all. If anything, you were quite bold for a pretty little damsel. He playfully flirted with you a few times and you were barely fazed. You even flirted back with teasing glances and fleeting touches that—he was impressed to admit—flustered him in shock. Your dollface can be deceiving as well. He had seen you pettily tattle to Lisa about patrons that give you a hard time. In turn, the mage trusts you to be the one to remind her of anyone who is late on their book returns. Thus, he watched you just peacefully sip tea while your employer terrorized the poor souls that earned her wrath with an innocent smile.

You rewarded the Cavalry Captain’s honest efforts by opening up to him a little.

It is here that Kaeya learned you were mute.

The cause was a very unfortunate birth defect when you were born prematurely. Your vocal chords did not grow correctly and almost suffocated you. The doctors were forced to remove it entirely via surgery so you can survive. Growing up, you became quite the bookworm because of this disability. You found solace in the immersion of reading the words you can never speak. It gradually turned you into a very talented scholar worthy of Lisa’s attention. Your nurturing ways with books and your preservation of comfort amidst the silence certainly gained merits.

Of course, your reserved nature did not mean you are to be underestimated.

The Witch of Purple Rose chose you as her personal assistant and sole substitute for a reason. It can be argued that you are potentially more frightening. You are the calm before the storm; and when you strike, no one ever sees it coming. Whenever hooligans think they can just steal books from the restricted section, every single one will be found hogtied and gagged on the Knights of Favonius’ doorsteps. A damsel you may appear but the only distress that can be felt is by the drunkards, who think they can harrass you without direct consequences. In fact, you made it your personal vendetta to discipline every member of Barbara’s fanclub and their stalker tendencies. A failure to comply forces them into public humiliation by wearing nun attires, and then prostrating themselves in front of Barbatos to beg for forgiveness.

Venti had an interesting view when he woke up from his nap on the statue’s hands.

The job of Cavalry Captain became that much more entertaining, and easier too.

Public ordinance is now easy to handle for all the patrolling knights, whom often need to tread lightly just to appease the common folks. Although the Acting Grandmaster would never say it outloud due to her soft nature, she was thankful for this subtle measures you have been making—especially in regards to her sister’s privacy and safety. Even the stoic Master Diluc seems to respect you since he actually makes effort to greet you more than he does any other stranger in the streets. Your drinks in Angel’s Share are discounted too, which is always a plus after a long day of work. Lisa took advantage of this perk just to tease.

As he got to know you, Kaeya finally arrived to a profoundly frightening conclusion.

He was falling in love with you.

No, he may have already fallen the moment you had turned into his newest fixation. The icy captain can recall Lisa’s words—how you judge people based on the character in their eyes, if it matches the persona that speaks. You actually looked at him and saw him with just a single glance; and when his words blurred the truth, his facade was already unraveling before your piercing gaze. You rejected him because he was denying the lost boy you see, and you embraced him when the charismatic captain found felicity in your companionship. You accepted both sides even if you knew nothing about either of them.

However, for all his clever ways in manipulating the feelings of others, Kaeya is powerless at the face of his own emotions.

Hence, the reasonable thing in his perspective is to simply run away from you.

It hurt you but it was something you also understood quite well. As mentioned, you were aware of Kaeya’s true character from the get-go. It was fine if this is really what he wants. You both lived your lives just fine when keeping your respective secrets. That should not change just because romantic feelings are now involved.

Lisa and your friends firmly believed otherwise.

Your doting older sister figure tells you one day that the elusive captain left a message. He says to meet him in Windrise, where Jean had put him on patrol for suspicious activity of the Abyss Order. In a twist of fate nobody expected, they even managed to get Diluc involved to make the information appear to be legitimate. The redhead claims he was getting sick of Kaeya's face brooding over you in Angel’s Share.

All else, as they say, was history when you were both given a chance to confront the truth together.

Now, Kaeya watches over your sleeping form on his bed—tuckered out from today’s work.

You are curled up to his chest, nuzzling his clavicle like a kitten. A delightful shiver ran through his spine every time your warm breaths hit his skin. Your left arm is draped over his waist while your right hand rested over his chest. His own arm cushions your head, bent by the elbow to poise himself up while he ran his fingers through your hair. The other one holds you close by the waist, legs intertwined so no space remains. The moonlight peeks through the curtains, basking you in afterglow that left him mesmerized every night. Leaning down, his lips tenderly kissed your brow as his embrace tightened possessively.

He grins as he felt your fingers move drowsily on his back, crumpling the blouse.

“Why are you watching me sleep?”

You drew special patterns to speak, blinking your eyes open to stare blankly at your lover.

He chuckles, bending down to give you an eskimo kiss while tracing words on your back as well.

“You look too beautiful to be true.”

You hummed in the form of a soft exhale, observing your beloved closely. Your hand leaves his back and reached up to his face, tucking his fringe behind his ear to see both of his eyes. It no longer concerns him to let you see his normally hidden eye, which flickered for a fraction of a second. He disclosed everything long ago. He has nothing else to hide, not from you at least—never again from you.

In fact, the language you were both using to silently communicate is from Khaenri'ah.

Kaeya invented the sign language of it and taught it to you. In public, people think it is just a cute secret between couples; but you knew better. There is a power in words, and Kaeya had entrusted you this in particular—a piece of his true self that only you can keep. Not even Diluc knew this much about him, as their bond of brotherhood shattered before he could make an attempt. Henceforth, you use this sign to talk with him privately and send messages only for your dear captain to decipher.

As you caressed his cheek, Kaeya sighed in perfect bliss. He leans towards your touch, turning his head to press a loving kiss on your palm. His own hand reached up to keep it in place. Delicately, his index finger traces another message on your knuckles.

“You’re not just a sweet dream, are you?”

Your eyes softened in understanding, smiling in hopes to alleviate his insecurities. Your hand directs his to your heart, much like how your other one stays above his own. Two hearts beat as one, delivering a mutual confession beknownst only to you and him.

Your lips moved and his unique eyes read them as if they held the meaning of life.

“I’m real, and I’m yours.”

Unable to help himself, Kaeya changes positions to loom over you. He pins your hands by the wrist on either sides of your head. You let him, locking eyes to wait until he regains his anchor to reality. As he straddles you, he leans down and his scarred eye glows with an unknown power. For a moment, the star in his misty blue orb sharpened into a slit. Then, his grip eventually loosens. Your arms soon take the chance to slither around his neck. You pull him down to your level, sensually slow to leave him in intense anticipation. Once he is a mere breath away, you lean up and forward.

Kaeya never fails to find sanctuary in your embrace, and salvation in your kiss. The taste of ambrosia is as addictive as the first time. He wanted more—needed more, even if it meant unequivocal demise.

One of his hands seeks one of yours, pressing against the mattress to interweave. A final message is traced as you both succumb to the passion that has waged wars since the dawn of creation.

“I love you.”

If the day of reckoning ever comes for him, the last hope of Khaenri'ah knows he does not stand alone.

Kaeya will always remember to seek out your light, and savor the hour of respite in your shadow. He holds faith in no god nor archon; but before you, he shall bend the knee in devoted worship.

This lost prince of sinners may be predestined for damnation, but he prays in your name—

“You are my northern star, the light that guides me back home.”

VENTI is a bard whose secrets are guarded by the lullabies of yesteryore and evermorrow. He holds the face of jubilant youth, yet his eyes tell a tale as old as time. While his voice mellifluously sings of tunes so spirited and free, his heart weighs heavy with the burden of an untold sacrilege. A couple thousand years can be a long time, yet the agony remains as fresh as the memories of a lucid dream. As he dons a smile that hopes to brighten the days and luminate the nights of Mondstadt, his soul belies the image of a nameless friend long gone. At times when the winds blew too coldly, he relies on the burning heat that drips down his throat—a taste so fine yet so bitter, like the freedom he idolizes.

Memories remind people what matters most, a life’s purpose to never forsake. However, more often than not, they come with the cruel regrets of what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. Henceforth, in tiresome days, the expense of living gets a little too much; and in sleepless nights, the weight of existing gets a little heavier.

Alas, when stars align just right, the wind will lead a pair of soulmates to find one another.

In Venti’s case, you found him.

It is actually very difficult to get him drunk, even if he acts otherwise. To be precise, he recovers quicker by getting sober minutes after he felt tipsy—and then, he would be downing another bottle. It is annoying for someone who just wants to forget his problems, but that is partially why he became accustomed to binge drinking. His rate of alcohol consumption would kill an average human, via alcohol poisoning, by the time he actually blacks out.

Amidst this cold and lonely night, the windborn bard was spared an ounce of warmth by a kind muse.

Venti woke up in a peculiar cottage that smelled of pollen and varnished wood. He heard the chirping of bluebirds, rousing him further away from his drowsy haze. A ray of sunshine peeks through the hanging cheap fabric used as curtains. He sits up, braids all messy with a very entangled bedhead.

As he stumbled out of the bedroom, the familiar sounds of Der Frühling beckoned him to the front porch. His veteran ears can attest that the notes are undoubtedly produced by a musician's hands, but a mere novice in the ways of the lyre. There was a harmonious flow in melody, yet the tone and pitch held little to no finesse in-between transitions. A sense of sheepish uncertainty distorts the song, but there was a certain charm in its dissonance.

He turns a corner, and there he saw you—

—a young dame sat upon a rickety swing, taming the bluebirds that sang for her strings.

The amused bard leaned against the doorway to watch the free show. His gleaming teal eyes stared blatantly, mesmerized by his supposed hostess. You wore an outfit that resembled his, but more modest and somewhat mismatched in color palette—an odd choice for a fellow bard. The only flashy thing about you is the Anemo Vision pinned onto your hair as it tied up your headband braid. It functioned as a hair ornament surrounded with cecilia and windwheel aster petals. A teal silk ribbon was mixed into your braid as its curled tail fluttered under your Vision ornament.

You seem to be inexperienced with the lyre, as Venti had confirmed upon seeing your performance; but you are still quite precise in your play. In theory, you hold enough knowledge to figure out which note works for a particular measure. Before he realized it, his own voice begins humming alongside the chirps of the gathered songbirds.

Alas, joining your small choir of avian creatures had startled them into flying away.

You also stiffened with a surprised jolt, practically snapping your head to look back at him. He does note that it was the birds’ exit that had shocked you, and not his soundly abrupt entrance.

“Ehe~!” Venti giggled nervously, “Sorry about that.”

You fumbled for a moment yet held the lyre firmly, careful to keep it steady. Standing up, you then walk over to him even though you shook in anxiety. Ever so tenderly, you returned his dearest Der Frühling as if handing over a precious baby.

Venti finds this heartwarming and endearing, having not met a fellow bard as considerate as you. He thus receives his lyre with gratitude, tracing its frame and plucking the strings. He marvels at the fact you even polished the instrument and retuned the strings.

“Many thanks, fellow bard~!” He chirped, “My name is Venti. May I know yours?”

You stared blankly at him for a moment, as if taking a few minutes to decipher his words. He spoke a little too quickly on purpose, patiently observing if you would prove his suspicions. As soon as you finally understood, you replied with some stutters in-between your syllables. It seemed more like a sound of uncertainty rather than a speech impediment.

“I-I am…[Name].”

A deaf virtuoso—the windborn bard believes you will make an interesting friend.

Ever since that day, Venti developed a habit of either visiting your abode or seeking you to hang out in the city. His consistent presence helped you be more comfortable in conversations. There was little to no stutters in-between your sentences now. As a bard whom prided himself in knowing all music of the past and future, the art of sign language is a helpful skill he utilized to pleasantly astound you.

The bard had never seen any mortal beam so bright when you smiled at him that day.

While you have gotten comfortable with him, Venti has also grown comfortable with you. There have been many incidents wherein his smiling mask just naturally came down around you. By your side, he felt more freedom than he has ever experienced in the past centuries. He knew it was dangerous to let this continue. The god in disguise has always been meticulously aware of his own feelings; and he was more than aware that he is falling for a mortal he will someday outlive.

However, he found you hard to resist.

Neither Venti nor Barbatos can hope to deny your profoundly unconditional love. What kind of god could reject such a heartfelt offering?

Despite your penchant for playing any available instrument, you preferred not to take center stage. In fact, your hidden knack for taming avian creatures is how you earn a daily living. Every songbird in the City of Freedom knows your tunes and can chirp them on command. This is due to your Anemo Vision, which has a unique ability that enables you to interact with the birds by means of frequency. Depending on how you control the vibrations in the breeze, they will follow like a choir does with a maestro.

You once dedicated a performance to Barbatos and the Four Winds. On that day, Venti heard his wisp brethren amongst the thousand winds croon at you in delight. He witnessed the silhouette of Vennessa’s falcon form hovering above you appraisingly, and a resounding roar can also be heard from Dvalin in his proclaimed lair. There were even the echoing howls of Andrius and his pack in Wolvendom.

This leads him to discover that your true talent lies in writing music. He had seen and read your musical compositions, grinning at every single one. With your permission, he even played a few in your home as payment for your gracious hospitality.

“You can negotiate with bards for this, you know.” He proposed, “I’m no businessman; but even I know letting other musicians play this will earn you a hefty sum of mora.”

You smiled sadly, “N-Nobody…w-would acknowledge music…composed by a deaf girl.” You confessed.

Venti turned solemn as he gazed at you. Although intimidating in its rarity, you are not perturbed by this abrupt change of mood. Your darling bard wears a mask on a daily basis that blurs truth and deceit.

You have become acquainted with them all.

He hummed playfully, “Now that just won’t do.”

You tilt your head confusedly, blinking in surprise when he suddenly takes hold of your hands.

“Ehe~!” He giggled, “Let me play…all of your music, [Name]. In fact, I’ll write…a lyrical ballad…for each of them. We’ll be the best duo…in Mondstadt!”

He had to slow down his speech a bit since he could not use his hands to help you keep up.

Thus, a new routine began for you two.

Venti kept his word. For the next few months, he only sang of the tunes you composed. A few of his regular listeners heard the slightest change in his playstyle. A part of him wished to smile bitterly as other bards and occasional playwrights praised his talent. He pettily made sure to charge thrice from them when he was requested for encores. These fools had rejected you just because of your disability yet they literally sing praises when he played your creations. Any artist worth their salt should have been able to see your potential at a glance.

Nevertheless, he ensured to always come home to you with bags full of mora whenever he plays your music in particular. You deserve nothing less than that, and he refuses to settle for anything else.

Regardless of this success, Venti recognized the melancholy in your eyes. You used to smile radiantly every time you watched him play. Your ears cannot hear the notes but you can feel the vibrations in the air. Your beguiling eyes relished the perfection of just watching Venti play to his heart’s content.

However, he was not blind to your inner turmoil and thus sought to relieve it.

“What’s wrong, Windblume?” He asked.

You hesitate, looking down at your feet. Gently, he props a finger under your chin to raise your head. A tender smile of encouragement implored you to speak your thoughts freely.

“I’m…frustrated.” You replied.

He says nothing but his smile does falter to a glaze of concern, waiting patiently to let you finish.

“I feel…so happy and grateful…when you play my songs.” You confided, “It’s finally being heard…and not just through the songbirds. People are now listening…to how it is supposed to be heard, and how I envisioned it to be played.”

Tears gather in your lovely eyes, overflowing with emotions too much for your heart. Your darling bard does not waver. He raises a hand to cup your cheek in his palm while his fingertips swept your sorrows.

“I want to…” you sobbed, “I want to hear you too!”

Venti held you protectively close, wishing more than anything else to shield you from this wild tempest of emotions. Alas, he was more than aware of the truth that the loveliest of rainbows can only come after the harshest storm. These are the feelings that must have festered for so long within you. People who can hear cruelly turn deaf to the ones whose worlds have been rendered silent. It was as if they do not deserve a voice if they knew not how it sounds. The thought infuriates the bard, reminding him of your beautiful songs discarded as nothing more than the passing chirps of songbirds.

He used his talents to let your ballads be heard.

Perhaps, he can use a different set of talents to let you hear his own?

You gripped onto Venti as if he was your lifeline, a part of you crumbling in sheer relief. He has always encouraged you to never be ashamed of what and how you feel. Whether it be deemed good or bad, all of it belonged to you. They make you human, the reason why he adores you above all. His gentle hand carded through your hair, skillful as when he plucks and strums the strings of Der Frühling. Pulling away slightly, his lips rested upon your temple and then your forehead. They stray towards your cheeks, a taste of salt from your tears.

Lastly, they hover above your own lips—centimeters apart, just a breath before they touch.

Teal eyes glow a shimmering green, both of you becoming enraptured by each other.

Venti needed you to say no more.

He takes you in his arms and spreads his wings. He delivers you to Windrise and its special tree, trusting him so wholly that you did not question him. Instead, you melted in his arms and enjoyed the warm breeze that wrapped around you like a blanket.

Once he sits you down beneath the tree, Venti sits in front of you to place one of your hands right above his heart. It beats steadily yet faintly, present yet not quite—like the wind he controls. He summons Der Frühling and smiles lovingly at you. The crystalflies illuminate his youthful features, providing a mystical glow that enthralls his dearest muse.

“Eyes on me, meine liebe.” He mouths.

Closing his eyes, he begins his private performance.

You frown, wondering what he means to prove with this. Still, you obliged his wishes and kept your eyes solely on him. Your hand remained where he placed it, right over the constant beating of his heart.

Then, you finally noticed the gathering streams of energy around yourself and your lover.

Your Anemo Vision began to glow alongside Venti’s iconic braids. The winds hummed together with him, united under his influence. It is an enchanting image, dazzling you into stunned admiration.

Then, you finally hear him—vocalizing the precious melody you dedicated to him alone. He sang of his past, his present, and his future which are now all intertwined by the whispers of you.

/Gales of song, please stay by my side/

He opens his eyes and releases his lyre. It plays as it floats, and you are mesmerized by how you can hear it all. By power of anemo, he merges your heart with his while enabling your psalm to be immortalized amongst the winds. He reaches up a hand to keep yours on his chest while its pair entangles with the other. His forehead leans on yours, gaze softening as you wept in bliss.

White feathers rained down on the landscape of green and blue. Floating lights illuminated the dark, be they stars or crystalflies. The Statue of the Seven sung in accompaniment to the intimate confessions of Barbatos—to you and for you.

/Winds of love, breathe into my life/

You can hear him so clearly—his regrets, his woes, his dreams, and his love. You hear it all through the song you composed at the thought of him, which he plays at the memory of you.

A fated parting shall occur someday, but he will love no other the way he loves you.

Therefore, with a passionate kiss, he makes you a promise—

“Come what may, you are the melody my heart will always sing.”

DAINSLEIF perseveres as a maverick shaped by his resolutions and driven by conviction. After enduring five centuries, he has earned a fair few titles as his new names. However, these remnants can never piece together his whole existence. As the Twilight Sword, there is no longer a Khaenri'ah to consider as his homeland to protect. As the Bough Keeper, there is no true grace to his purpose while burdened by a curse that shall someday rob him of his own mind and soul. In the eyes of Celestia, he is no more than a sinner doomed to a fate which can be argued as worse than death. As for the rest of the world, he is no more than a listless wanderer whom holds an obsession with stopping a disgrace known as the Abyss Order.

To honor those he had failed in his homeland, he can only move forward in the best way he knew—even if it is against those he had formerly served. Souls of the condemned hold no genuine hope of ascending to Celestia, for they amount to nothing more than heretics that do not worship any god. Therefore, for those who dare to remember, erosion will befall upon them as a final kiss of damnation. Before that day comes for him, this foolish score must be settled so he can meet his demise without regrets.

There is no genuine reward at the end of this tedious and lonesome quest. He is aware.

Nonetheless, the accursed immortal human refuses to falter under the taunt of judgment. If damnation is what shall meet him at the end of this quest, then he shall do it on his own terms. For if he must also end without his resolve, then there will truly be nothing left of him and Khaenri'ah.

There had been instances aplenty wherein the divine is likened to the flowers blossoming across Teyvat; and as a lonesome wanderer, he has grown accustomed to these tragic folklores.

The God of Dust named Guizhong left behind a quiet legacy amongst the glaze lilies. Songs which keep them abloom become tributes to her name.

The Goddess of Flowers known as Nabu Malikata had left her remnants within the padisarahs. Even if not as they were anymore, they serve as a memoir.

Godless they may have been, the glorious nation of Khaenri'ah also held pride over a particular flower—the Inteyvat. Alas, nobody but the former Twilight Sword retains the awareness to recall whom they represent the most.

“My memory has all but faded completely,” a voice murmurs piously, “but I will always remember how much she too loved these flowers.”

Dainsleif spoke not of Lumine here, although she does remind him of the one he reminisces. He dares say travelling with her had been the closest to home, a feeling of warm comfort. However, it never was the same exact happiness he sought in another—a mere ghost in his past. The lost historical relics in Sumeru speak of her as the last Eclipse Princess, whom was hailed as the Heretic Saintess. However, to him, she was the woman he dearly cherishes to this day…

…and the one he laments most for failing to protect in the bout of cataclysmic calamity.

Indeed, the Bough Keeper realizes; this accursed immortality is a fitting punishment for what Celestia deems a sinner. For he can forsake everything, but anything he has left of her will vividly linger. The doomsday of his own reckoning shall be when that too is ripped away from him.

Until then, he will dream of her. Until then, he will foolishly hope for the day they meet again.

Then, like a prayer to a nonexistent god, answers came in the ethereal form of you.

You met Dainsleif on a stormy night. In fact, he just found your cabin in the woods to seek a temporary shelter—injured and knocked unconscious. He was already half-delirious from a high fever, and it did not take a genius to know the man had a rough week. It is not out of kindness that you nursed him back to health, but due to a selfish motive to figure him out.

“Who are you?” You mumbled.

It seems he was not entirely out of it since he still managed to respond clearly.

“Dain…sleif…”

As soon as he muttered back, he eventually fell limp in your arms. For those brief seconds, there was a swelling ache upon your chest—nostalgia. A chilling tingle ran through your spine, like the touch of an invasive ghost on your skin—melancholy. Then, it spreads as smoldering heat to your veins as if to ignite your bloodstream—passion.

“Dainsleif, huh?”

The name felt like velvet on your tongue. His clothes and features were all too familiar to you—a fellow kinsman from Khaenri'ah. However, your eidetic memory never once brought you to a conclusion about this man’s identity. Regardless, your body reacts as if begging for your mind to catch up in recognition.

Even as you tended to him, nothing clicked.

“Your Highness…”

His voice weakly called, raspy and strained as if to choke it out. Your star-shaped pupils dilate as they meet his own hazy glare. His hand was reaching out to you, looking yet not truly seeing.

Alas, you made no move to truly stop him and remained awkwardly staring back.

“You’re dreaming, Sir Dainsleif.”

As if hearing his name from you brought comfort, he settles down again. His eyes start to close but now his hand found yours resting by his bedside. You recoiled yet his grip was oddly firm for a deeply ill patient. Perhaps, you can allow this until he gets some real rest.

When he recovered, Dainsleif vanished as abruptly as he barged into your life.

The next time you met again, it was your turn to be the one in need.

Dainsleif finds you in a clearing of soot and frost, holding a young man desperately. It was as if a clash of fire and ice had occurred under the rain. You look up to him, stars in your eyes shimmering with panic and sorrow. Without a word, he aids you by carrying the unconscious male and leading you back to the cabin. You made no reaction other than grasping onto his cloak tightly, like a lost child.

Despite not wishing to overstay his welcome, the Bough Keeper chose to stay for the night. You were unresponsive to him, as if your mind had shut down completely. A vague memory of a person so similar to you made Dainsleif familiar to the situation. Thus, the task of healing your patient fell to him until you could regain your composure.

“Please be well, Kaeya.” You murmured.

Dainsleif did not pry about your business, giving you the same respect you had done for his privacy. It did, however, astonish him when you took hold of his wrist and dragged him outside with you the next day.

The man named Kaeya stirred awake.

Befuddled, the former Twilight Sword kept silent as he watched from afar with you. Kaeya ate the warm meal you prepared on the table, and mixed emotions flickered in his eyes as he did. His head turned to observe everything in the cabin, searching almost as desperately as you appeared last night. Numerous dreamcatchers and embroideries decorate the walls in a contradictingly systematic manner. The more he analyzed, the more he remembered his childhood—as if your crafts gave him pieces of long forgotten memories. Then, he slowly stood up and made his way to a periwinkle dreamcatcher designed with a pavo ocellus constellation.

A single silver-blue eye gazed out the window, nearly catching your own gaze—

—but you ducked down behind the huge boulders and pulled Dainsleif with you to hide.

Kaeya got his things back and left a small note of gratitude for your care. Wordlessly, he left the cabin with the dreamcatcher now hanging on his belt—right beside his Cryo Vision. He looked back over his shoulder only once to give a bittersweet smile.

“Farewell, sis.” He whispered.

A humming zephyr delivered his message, and then he went back to Mondstadt.

Dainsleif sat down beside you for an entire hour, a mix of pity and empathy. When clarity returned to your eyes, he rose to take his leave. Once again, he was halted on his tracks by your hand grabbing onto his own gloved one.

“Hey,” you said, “do you mind if I go with you?”

Against his better judgment, the cursed immortal agreed after a minute of contemplation.

This newfound journey together has a very tedious beginning, mostly attributed to you. Everything was strange and nothing felt safe, which was expected because you both never stayed in one place. You, whom sought solace in consistency, were always forced to adapt to something new. Sleeping became a chore because you felt every small pebble and thin blade of grass pressing against you. It is by the mere thoughtfulness of your companion that you got a semblance of rest. Dainsleif always covered you in his cape and was willing to hold you soothingly, as if he knows just how to calm you down. There has been moments wherein you had tantrums, and some meltdowns that delayed some plans. Other days, you shut down completely and only wake back up to reality after a day or two.

Dainsleif was shockingly very patient with you, never berating and ready to soothe whenever you are in distress. He never once pushed you to go back. Only once, he offered to take you somewhere to settle after a very bad episode.

“No, I can’t!” You exclaimed, “I have to keep moving. I have to…keep going. Make sure…nobody finds me.”

It was unspoken that you were specifically running away from the City of Freedom, all for avoiding your your younger brother. There is a destiny that kept you both apart even when you mutually wish to be reunited. As children of Khaenri'ah, the former knight can take a guess what that sort of fate presents.

Since then, your travel companion did not question your decision anymore.

Without prompting, Dainsleif seemed used to your symptoms. It was almost eerie how he knew exactly what to say and do in every situation that involved your condition. He makes effort to prepare the same meals that you wish to have every day, and only light fruit snacks at night because you get very restless otherwise. At times he wanted to keep going, he stops himself to make camp for you first on the same evening hour before scouting ahead. He only allows himself to be gone for exactly 45 minutes, which was your limit to being alone whenever you both decide to camp out rather than checking into an inn or hotel. Whenever a wave of unease hits, he keeps a bag of materials that either lets you weave dreamcatchers or tinker an antique you scavenged in the ruins you passed. Every time your mind begins to close off, he sits down with you and holds your hands to meditate. When you need space, he keeps his distance; and when you need companionship, he keeps you close.

“How?” You ask.

Dainsleif raises a brow as he looks down at you. It was in the middle of Lantern Rite as you both watch the festivities from a nearby hill. After indulging in a few stalls, you calmed by playing with his fingers as your head rested on his lap. He knows the meaning to your one-worded inquiry, and he wonders how to answer you truthfully.

“I knew someone similar to you.” He said.

You sat up before blankly staring into his eyes, stars meeting stars. Tilting your head, a flash of curiosity brought light to your emotionless gaze.

“The princess…?” You asked.

The Bough Keeper blinked in surprise.

“You dreamed of her a lot when we first met.”

Your statement made him look away bashfully, a bit embarrassed to be reminded.

“Was she important to you?” You asked.

At this, he looks at you in the eyes. His star-shaped pupils practically gleam with an emotion you could not read—or perhaps, could not comprehend.

“She is my dearest one.” He declared.

Normal people probably would have felt jealous at that confession. He even used a present tense to show that his feelings have not wavered.

You and Dainsleif never gave a label to this peculiar relationship, but you hold a mutual understanding that it had grown to more than just friends. It was a development nurtured by meaningful exchanges and secretive affections. The sentiments are far from platonic or familial, that much is sure.

That night, when you released a lantern, you made a fleeting wish—

—not to the gods, but to the princess.

“Please look after Dainsleif.”

Meanwhile, the Twilight Sword fondly gazes upon your form. The image of your past self overlaps with the present. He recalls the ever sleepless nights of guarding you in the tower. Starlight showered upon your figure leaning by the windowframe. Delicate hands reach out to set free artificial crystalflies that glow as wisps of moonlight. A breath of laughter is echoed in the lonely room, and then he is blessed by a smile more divine than Celestia.

The memory flickers as the silver starlights are replaced by golden lanterns, and your humble self stood in place of the estranged saintess—

—but that smile remains.

Morning welcomed Dainsleif with the strange sight of you looming over him. With practiced ease, he resumes calm as he let you do as you please like it was nothing unusual. He knows of your quirks just as you are aware of his boundaries. There is mutual trust of consent that tells which actions would be acceptable anytime. He did gulp a little nervously as his drowsy eyes analyzed you. His hands twitched but he willed them to stay in place despite his inner yearning.

Disheveled, you were straddling him while still in your nightgown. Your hair was messily draped over your shoulders, creating a curtain around the blond man beneath you. A glazed veil engulfs your eyes like a dreamy countenance of a faraway reverie.

“Dain…”

“What is it, [Name]?”

“I had a dream last night.”

“A dream, you say?”

You nod, leaning down almost conspirationally yet the expression on your face remains unreadable. A gasp hitched in his throat as your lips strayed to his ear, whispering shakily—

“I remember, Dain.”

Realization struck him.

Dainsleif switches positions with you yet he receives no protest. His ungloved hands cup your face in order to meet your eyes with his own beseeching pair. You see his visage, unmasked and vulnerable, that longingly wish for your approval.

You nodded.

Dainsleif claims your lips in ardent greed, and you responded in eager devotion.

Intertwined, redamancy is bliss for the reunited knight and his only princess—

“Your heart is the only other half that can ever complete mine.”

[thatonegenshinsimp]

Inteyvat (Dainsleif x fem!reader NSFW)

Notes: I may have enjoyed writing this one just a little too much...

Warnings: fem!reader, sub!reader, bulging, creampie, hair pulling, slight angst, slight spoilers for the Interlude chapters in the Archon quests

NSFW content below! By scrolling down past this point, you have decided to read the content below of your own accord!

It was rare for Dainsleif to fall asleep and stay asleep for so long, especially when there were matters in dealing with the Abyss Order that he needed to take care of. However, there was also you, his wife, that he needed to take care of, and he’d be damned a second time by Celestia before he let your needs go unfulfilled.

Even if those needs consisted of him making love to you until dawn just to prove that he still loved you.

You woke up slowly next to him in the bed you shared, one arm draped over your waist and the other beneath you. You were one of the few people he had left from his homeland, one of the precious few he could still trust and let his guard down around. You rolled over slowly to face him, being careful not to wake him up. Last night was filled with whispered confessions of love and adoration from both of you as his hips thrusted against yours slowly. You loved him dearly, and always made sure he knew that you cherished him. And even though your usually stoic husband could be a bit distant sometimes, he still reminded you every time that he loved you, whether that be with his words or with his body.

You cupped his face in your hands and gently pressed your lips against his, tangling your legs with his. He stirred slightly before settling down and going still again, causing you to smile. You saw his Abyss stained arm and hand, your own gently making its way up his bicep and to his face. He always looked so beautiful whenever he slept, tangled in the throes of dreams you could only hope were pleasant and peaceful. He rarely had any sort of peace of mind these days, with the Abyss Order constantly being a growing threat to the natural order of Teyvat. You ran your thumb over his cheek, before watching as the eye beside it slowly opened. “Good morning.” You whispered, pressing your lips against the tip of his nose, and then his cheeks, before finally pressing them against his own. He took a deep breath and sighed deeply, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he closed his eye again. “Morning.” He mumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep when he spoke. He reached out and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as his chest pressed against yours. “Did you sleep well?” He asked, opening his eyes fully this time. “Mhm.” You hummed, watching as he leaned into your hand and relaxed at the feel of your touch. “Did you sleep well?” You asked, your hands making their way downwards to his and intertwining. “I did, surprisingly enough. I haven’t slept this well in… in a long time.” He breathed, his gaze turning from peaceful and content to slightly melancholic. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, starting to get up when the cold air hit your back and made you shiver. You pulled the covers back up to your chin and laid back down, pressing yourself closer to him as his face reddened. “Stars above, it’s freezing!” You hissed, snuggling up to him in an attempt to get some more warmth. Dainsleif splayed his hands against your back, his warm palms giving you some relief from the cold. You sighed as he kissed you, eyes going half lidded as he let his hands wander over your soft skin. He was irresistible when he was like this, needy and craving your touch. It was so easy for you to let your mind wander when mornings like this happened, to think about how those big hands of his could do much more than just hold you. It was so easy to think about all the things those thick fingers of his alone could do to you.

You reached up and tangled your fingers in his soft blond hair, pressing your lips against his. “You mind if we continue from where we left off last night?” You asked. Dainsleif shook his head, before leaning in and gently kissing your neck. You tilted your head to the side to let him access your neck better. He pressed open mouthed kisses against your skin, his hands making their way down to your thighs. You gasped when he spread your legs and looked down at you, pinning them apart with his own as his hand made its way down your body. He gently grabbed your thigh with one of his hands, his blue abyss stained fingers digging into your skin gently to hold you still. The other went lower to your entrance, his thick fingers pressing against your slit as he looked up at your face. You gasped as he slid two fingers inside of you, scissoring them slowly to stretch you. You reached up and fisted the sheets beside your head, moaning softly as he curled his fingers and pushed them deeper. “NgAAh~! Th-there, right there- AhH~!” You cried out as his fingers grazed over your sweet spot, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing hard little circles against your bundle of nerves. “Let go, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” He whispered, moving his hand faster as he leaned in closer to you and pressed his lips against yours. Tears welled up in your eyes as you hovered on the edge of the release you craved, letting go of the sheets in favor of grabbing his broad shoulders. “HnAhhN~! Cumming- Dain~!” You wailed his name as you squirted on his fingers, gasping when he pulled them out.

You were still coming down from your high when you heard a deep chuckle from above you, and looked up to see your husband looking at the mess you made on his hand. “I want to see you do that again~” he said, reaching down and pumping himself a few times with the same hand. He then pulled back a little and slotted his hips against yours, pressing his tip against your slit. Before anything else, he looked back up into your eyes, gently cupping your face in his hands. "May I?" he asked, watching as you nodded quietly. He reached for your thighs and pressed them up against your chest as he slowly slid into you. You clenched around the fat tip of his cock tightly, squeezing around him as he kept pressing into you. The drag of his heavy shaft against the gummy walls of your cunt made you shudder beneath him as he made slow, jerky thrusts into you to fit himself inside of you. “Ngh~ Dain, you’re s’big, mnh~ feels s’good- Ah~” you moaned, digging your nails into his shoulders as he went deeper. Dainsleif pressed his forehead against yours, sighing deeply as he spoke. “I’m almost halfway in now, sweetheart, you’re doing so good.” He whispered, his words serving to make you squeeze tighter around his thick shaft. "Hng~ Relax, or I'll have to go even slower than I am right now." he grunted softly, his hips stalling against yours. you slowly relaxed as he kept going, moaning as he finally bottomed out inside of you. He groaned loudly as your cunt spasmed and squeezed around him while you tried to get used to his size completely. Even now, it was so difficult for you to get used to this feeling after months without it, months without him. He had gone missing in Liyue, when he ran through the portal after that Abyss Herald and the Traveler's sibling. You didn't make it in time to the portal to get through with him, and were left on the other side of the portal with the Traveler and Paimon. During the time that Dainsleif was gone, you wandered aimlessly, searching for your husband for what felt like years, when in reality, it was barely three months. You thought you would never see him again, that you would never feel his arms around you like this again. Your grip on his shoulders tightened as tears welled up in your eyes, recalling that crushing feeling of being so very alone for so unbearably long. He noticed how quiet you'd gotten, and looked down at you as he spoke. "Are you alright?" he asked, reaching up and gently cupping your face in his hands. You nodded, letting your tears fall as he held you there. You reached up and put your hands over his, speaking very quietly. “I thought I wouldn’t get the chance to be close to you like this again. I was looking for you alone out there for so long, I thought you were killed.” you whispered, eyes shutting tightly as he looked down at you. Dainsleif gently thumbed away your tears and pressed his lips against yours, his eyes slipping closed as he kissed you. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, my beloved Inteyvat, I promise.” he whispered, his words soothing you and chasing away the negative thoughts in your already lust clouded mind. When he slowly pulled away, he set your legs back down against the mattress, letting you wrap them around his waist. He slowly rocked his hips against yours, watching as you whined softly and dragged your nails down his back. “Hnn~ just like that, please don’t stop- Ahn~!” You gasped when he hit deeper, causing you to clench and squeeze around him more. “Hnng~ so- fuck- tight. You’re always so good for me, you know that? Such a good girl.” He whispered, his hot breath fanning against your neck as you held onto him.

You buried your face in his neck and bit down on his skin, leaving a mark in the crook of his neck as his thrusts picked up speed. “Nh~ D-Dain, please- aHm~!” The coil in your lower tummy was winding tighter, and you couldn’t help but gasp as he hit your sweet spot, his tip bumping up against your cervix every time he hit particularly deep. “It’s been so long since I last had you like this, too long- Ngh~!” You squeezed around him tightly when he spoke, your gummy walls clenching around him at his words. Your eyes rolled back when his hand went town between the two of you and he rubbed your clit with his thumb. “Such a beautiful sight for my eyes alone. Go ahead and let go, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” He whispered, pressing his lips against yours as you gasped and moaned loudly, tugging his blond hair as tears pooled at the corners of your eyes. “NghAhm~ cumming, cumming- AnH~!” You came all over his cock as the tight coil of pleasure snapped in your lower tummy, pushing you over the edge as you buried your face in his shoulder. His own orgasm hit him soon after, his hips stuttering against yours as you spasmed and squeezed his thick shaft tightly. A loud groan slipped past his lips as the noise of skin meeting skin grew louder. You gripped his shoulders tightly as his hips stilled against yours, breathless beneath him. After the two of you had calmed down, you slowly pulled back and looked down at him. “Mmh~ Dain?” You looked down at him with half lidded eyes as he spoke. “Yeah, what is it?” He asked, his arms snaking up to yours so he could hold your hands. The spaces between your fingers were filled, and you couldn’t help the tears that rolled down your cheeks at the loving gesture. “Are you alright? Did I do something? Was it-” he stopped mid sentence as you started giggling softly, resolving to rest his head against your chest. “I love you.” You whispered, pressing your lips against his gently. He kissed you back, tensing up slightly as your hand went up to cup the side of his face. More specifically, you were holding the side of his face he usually wore his mask on, the side the abyss had stained. You didn’t care, you loved him dearly regardless of what had happened to him when he was in the abyss. “We should wash up.” you mumbled, chuckling softly as he huffed and nosed your neck. “Ok.” he mumbled.

You gasped as he braced himself and slowly pulled out, making sure he didn’t hurt you. He kissed your forehead before slowly getting up and pulling the covers back. He picked you up and slowly walked to the bathroom, gently setting you down on the rim of the bath and running the water warm the way you both liked it. Once the bath was full, he gently lowered you into the water as he spoke. “I’m going to let you soak in here for a bit while I make us something to eat and change the sheets. I shouldn’t be long.” He said, noticing your worried gaze. He pressed his lips against your forehead and stood up straight, throwing on a towel and wrapping it around his waist. You waited for him to come back, looking around the bathroom in the meantime. About twenty minutes later, he returned with some eggs and some bacon, setting the plates on the bathroom counter. He then took the towel off and got in the bath with you, sitting behind you as he grabbed the soap and lathered his hands with it. He then slowly rolled his palms against your shoulders, working his way down your body as he eased the tension that had built up in your muscles. “Does that feel better?” He asked, slowly pulling his hands away when he’d finished massaging your legs. “Mhmm~” you hummed, a blissed out expression on your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He shampooed and conditioned your hair and his, before rinsing it out of your hair and moving on to do the same with his own. You, however, gently guided him to lay back in the water, and gently rinsed it out of his hair. Your nails scratching his scalp like this always felt nice, and he seemed to melt in your arms as you rinsed his hair. “Ok, I’m done.” You mumbled, causing him to open his eyes and look up at you. You smiled down at him and pulled away so he could sit up, watching him get out of the bath to get the two of you some towels. He lifted you up and wrapped you up in the towel, draining the bath when you were out. He then helped dry you off, drying himself afterward. As he carried you back to bed, you couldn’t help but pull him down to kiss him. He gave a muffled grunt of surprise, before he returned the kiss. Once he set you down under the covers, he went back and got the food. It was still, thankfully, warm, and you gladly ate it as he handed you a glass of water. “You should drink something, it’ll do you well.” He said, watching as you took the glass and drank it. “Thanks.” You murmured, leaning against him as you finished eating your food. “Any time.” He replied, taking your plate and going downstairs with it to put it in the sink. He would wash it later when he had the time. He then got back in bed and under the covers with you, pulling you close to him. He always loved holding you like this after a particularly long session together, and you were happy to receive his touch. You rolled onto your back and let him rest his head against your chest, his arms around your waist as his usually tense body relaxed. “The Abyss can wait, I just want to be here with you right now.” Dainsleif whispered, letting himself bask in your warmth as he started falling asleep. “Don’t worry, Dain, I’m not going anywhere.” You soothed, watching him nod tiredly before he looked up at you. “I love you, my Inteyvat, I love you so very much.” He mumbled, closing his eyes and drifting off soon after. “I love you, too, Dainsleif.” You whispered, your hand in his hair as drowsiness took you over and you fell into the comforting embrace of sleep.

If only things could be peaceful like this all the time.

[soiwj]

SOMEONE REQUESTED THIS, BUT I FATFINGERED THE POST BUTTON MID WRITING SO IT POSTED THE INCOMPLETE VERSION AND WHEN I DELETED IT I WENT BACK INTO MY INBOX AND THE ASK WASNT THERE ANYMORE! SO DEAR PERSON I HOPE YOU FIND THIS!!

Orange glow

Dainsleif x adventurer!fem!reader

Synopsis: Dainsleif and reader meet again, confronting each other, but things take a turn for the worst.

Being in the adventurers guild has turned your life upside down. You went from helping out in your fathers jewelry shop to hunting hillichurls and abyss mages. And today, you're doing just that.

You run towards the hillichurl camp at full speed, blade slashing against their boney masks as they fall to the ground one by one. Strangely, the numbers don't seem to dwindle. It's as if the more you kill, the more there are. Something blue catches your eyes, as you turn to your left, curious to find out what it is, you hear an urgent "Watch out!"

Steel glides past your gaze as you close your eyes, bracing for impact. But it never came. You open your eyes as you see a stranger in front of you. His blonde hair flowing in the wind, his dark clothes shifting. You quickly back away, wary of the stranger. He quickly turns around at the noise of your footsteps. "I just came to help, I don't want to hurt you." His gaze portrays that of a human looking at a wounded animal.

Before you can respond, the hillichurls start getting up again. The undead creatures quickly force the blonde back into battle. His sword stabbed, but it had no use. They keep coming back. Yet he keeps fighting, stabbing, and killing.

You, however, realize there's no use in still fighting. Better to let the patrol guards take care of this. Although you feel guilty for leaving the stranger to fend for himself, you don't know what he would've done if he did succeed in killing them. You quickly run off, back to your home.

Since then, you keep seeing him everywhere. Although he's not actually around that often, you can never seem to forget those blonde locks and ocean blue eyes.

Your blade stabs at the hillichurls as you shake yourself from your thoughts. It's been weeks since you last saw him, yet you can't stop thinking of him. Maybe it's because of the guilt?

Something strange suddenly occurs, and the hillichurls run away. As you're trying to figure out what's happening, you feel a strong force collide with the back of your skull. You fall to the ground as your head is pounding. Clutching the grass bellow you, you raise your head, looking at the perpetrator. It's a fatui opperative. Shit.

You try to fight back as your head is pounding. Your vision slowly fills with black spots as you try to block the opperatives' attacks. Suddenly, you don't feel the cuts nor the bruises. Just a peaceful bliss.

You're ripped out of your sanctuary as you sit up. The makeshift bed below you creaks at the movement. "You're awake." The air smells of yasmine tea. You try to find the voice's source as you look around horrified. Where are you? What happened? You try to remember what brought you here. You remember the hillichurls and the fatui opperative, but everything goes blank after that.

A wooden plateau is placed onto your lap, on it stands a tea cup. The yasmine fills your nostrils, giving you a calm feeling. You snap out of your daze as you look to your left. It's the blonde stranger. "Y-you'" almost tilting the tea cup, you crawl backward. Away from the man. The movement causes your leg to ache as you look down at it. It's bandaged.

"Easy, you don't want to spill the tea." He looks almost annoyed at your antics. "Where am I?! Why am I here?! And why are you here with me?!" The questions blurt out of your mouth as you start freaking out again. "You were getting attacked, I saved you, and brought you to my home." He states. "I can't believe the adventurers guild would hire someone so incompetent." You scoff at his remark. "Well, atleast I know how to pick my battles. This one just caught me by suprise."

His gaze hardens as he answers quickly. "Just like how you left me with those hilichurls last time?" A pang of guilt hits you as you look in his eyes. A sigh escapes his lips as he nudges you towards the tea cup. "You should drink the tea. It has healing properties." You slowly reach for the tea cup. Holding it up to your nose as you smell the liquid.

"How do I know you didn't poison it?" He looks at you questioningly. "Why would I go through all this effort to save you, just to poison you in the end?" You shrug defensively. "I don't know what kind of things you're into."

He chuckles, surprised at your retort. "Well, if you want to find out, I'll be here." He stands up as he walks back to his little desk in the corner. You take your time to look around the room. The walls are made of stone. You're in a cave. A portable radiator is placed right in front of your bed. It glows orange in the dimly lit room. You take a sip of the tea, and it tastes delicious. You can almost feel your wounds getting healed. You try to get up from the bed, whincing at the ache in your leg. Before you can get off of it, he walks over to you.

"I'd recommend waiting a bit before trying to get up," he says gently. "What's your name?" The question catches him off guard. "What?" You repeat your question. "It's Dainsleif." You've never heard a name like that before. You tell him yours. "Oh, I know what your name is. I asked around." What? Why? "I wanted to know more about you." He says, answering your question almost telepathically.

Deciding you're too unpredictable to leave by yourself, he pulls a stool from under his desk and sets it down next to you. "Hey, Dainsleif?" His head perks up as he's snapped out of his thoughts. He makes a slight hm sound as if to acknowledge you and insist you continue speaking. "I'm sorry for leaving you with those hillichurls. I don't know how im supposed to thank you, considering you've saved me twice now. Even after I abandoned you."

His brows furrow at your statement. He didn't expect you to apologize. "There's no need to apologize. You did not know me after all." He brushes the matter aside as he continues speaking. "You know... You're not as bad as I thought you were." You giggle. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?" He gives you a gentle smile. "I sure hope you take it as one." His smile fades away as he looks down at your injured leg. "I ran out of bandages. Do you happen to have some in your bag? You're an adventurer, after all."

You nod, but you quickly realize there's something else in there. Something you definitely can't let him see. "Wait!" You yell out in urgency as you see him holding it in his hand. "Why do you have this," his eyes darken as his sentence continues, distrust gleaming in his gaze. "I- It's not what you think -" you mutter, trying to organize your words so you can explain your situation.

The fatui insignia reflects the radiators' orange light, as he observes it. "You're trying to stop me from finding out what happened to khaenri'ah right? Is that it? You peaked my interest on purpose to distract me from my main goal. How could I be so foolish as to not realize it sooner." He speaks in a stern voice, yet his face betrayes all of his emotions. The slight agony in his features becomes very apparent as he strides towards you. "Wait, Dainsleif, it's not what you think! Hear me out!"

He grabs your chin forcefully as he gets close to your face. "I am going to leave. When I come back, I want you gone. If you are not gone, then I will make you leave by force. And I can promise you now that I will not be gentle," he commands with a booming voice. You've never seen him like this. Not even when you guys hated each other.

He lets go of you as he walks to the cave entrance, leaving you alone. Your only companion is the orange glow of the radiator, the only warmth you feel at this moment.

Omg this took me a little while to finish haha

[newtabfics]

Dainsleif for 16? He deserves it after everything I think

We're going with the idea that Y/N is The Traveller for some self-insert but also like I don't think he talks to anyone else honestly XD

Send me prompts from THIS list!

He shivered when she pressed him against the wall. "Y/N, you don't need to do thi--" He stopped when her finger found his lips, silencing him.

"Don't worry," She assured him with a seductive smile. "I'll make you feel real good."

It wasn't that he thought he deserved it. He had been too intent on his mission, especially considering her sibling was... He shook his head, trying to focus on the woman before him as she went to her knees, mouthing at the front of his trousers until her tongue somehow skillfully undid them and left him exposed.

He trusted her. he knew she wouldn't do something so vile to him in this state, not after all they'd gone through.

Yet somehow, watching her take him into his mouth, he could find that her betraying him wouldn't be the first thing on his mind. How long had it been since he felt such intimacy? he couldn't definitely say at least have a millennia. To have Y/N on her knees and swallowing him down was too much as he quickly began to grab her head and thrust into her mouth, leaving her choking and moaning around him as she swallowed down his load.

As she felt him still hard in her mouth, she couldn't help her mischievous nature as she began to bob and suck again, making him shout from pleasure. He wasn't done by a long shot.

[ladysirenity23]

Before I start the Liyue arc in the Sagau Headcanons ..

Here are some stories I want to post in wattpad soo choose for me what to post first with these introductions :]] will do a poll after

"𝘔𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘐𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴"

You sought to kill your mother's former protégé as he returns as a teacher in your old high-school while being ignorant to the people who'll be affected by your petty revenge

X fem reader

Warnings:

child-neglect;

intense mentions of gore;

sadistic mannerisms;

toxic parent reader;

Very slow redemption ;

Love interests;

All Might

Endeavour

Mirko

Hawks

Fat Gum

Midnight

Eraserhead

Present Mic

Vlad king

Overhaul

Oc

+

"voleuse de coeurs"

Settling down in your homeland was never the life you'd wish to spend in, so you go to a trip all over Teyvat!Learning about the mysteries of each nations,Escaping each and every crime you have committed, And on the plus side!You may have stole a couple of hearts on the way, and an archon's gnoses while your at it!wait-

X fem reader

Love interests;

Aether

Lumine

Kaeya

Diluc

Childe

Rosaria

Eula

Amber

Kazuha

Ayaka

Thoma

Xiao

Razor

Bennett

Fischl

Sucrose

Albedo

Ayato

Chongyun

Ganyu

Scaramouche

Keqing

Xingqiu

Sara

Itto

Dainsleif

Oc

+

"Ang 𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖎ñ𝖔𝖘𝖆"

In which a once sealed goddess now roams the world of Teyvat with two companions who'm she tried to kill upon meeting them.

Xfemreader

Love interests ;

Venti

Zhongli

Baal

Dainsleif

Xiao

Ganyu

Kaeya

Aether

Lumine

Tartaglia

Scaramouche

Diluc

Baizhu

Oc

+

[cloudfox42]

Imagine your fictional crushes fighting about who gets to snuggle you to sleep each night. Who do you really want to win?

[areislol]

twitter links w/ hsr men

pairings. blade, jing yuan, aventurine, sunday, gepard, sampo x afab/fem! reader

warnings. NSFW no minors! please read at your own discretion, explicit/18+ smut, established relationships for most, brat taming for blade, mention of being called a whore (teasing manner) for aventurine, mentions of puppy for gepard but there's no meaning about it. aggressive sex, passionate sex, masturbation (fem.) sub! gepard for 1 twt link, fingering

a/n. i don't think i've done one for hsr yet... or genshin so maybe that'll be in the future. sorry (not sorry) guys i'm ovulating (i need them all carnally). also i think for some you need to be logged in twitter for them to work! this only has a couple of characters cause i'm a bit lazy today

blade

✧ fucking you so good from behind, "you like that don't you?"

✧ eating you out in a room just beside his colleuges room, he likes the risk and it turns on him. you feel the same way, right?

✧ teasing you for being such a brat, spanking your tight pussy and rubbing soft languid on your sensitive clit. you'll learn your lesson sooner or later.

✧ the size difference never fails to amaze him. but that's fine, he'll take his time with you.

✧ making you cum just by his slender fingers

jing yuan

✧ riding your boyfriend jing yuan

✧ fucking you in his bathroom while you're wearing his shirt. how adorable of you ♡

✧ best friend! jing yuan who fucks you right and how you deserved to be fucked. "feels good doesn't it? i know baby but you need to keep your voice down.. your mom is here.." it's quite hard to stay quiet while being pounded relentlessly, isn't it?

✧ a 5 star meal in his opinion, nothing beats your pussy.

aventurine

✧ slowly and painstakingly teasing you with his cock, oh, and you're wearing that new blindfold he bought for you!

✧ bouncing up and down on his dick, "like the whore you are"

✧ morning sex (is this based off the artwork recently posted by hoyo? yes)

✧ fingering you from behind

✧ "fuck..." aventurine loves hearing you moan

sunday

✧ "ride my face, please."

✧ passionate sex with sunday

✧ giving your boyfriend an awaited tit job ♡

✧ restricting your movement by binding you. "stop moving or i won't put it in." he says while also rubbing his hardness on your entrance.

✧ fucking you 'till you're braindead

gepard

✧ your puppy boyfriend who loves eating you out. best meal ever.

✧ breeding you just like you asked, one peak down at the messy sight gets him 10x more hard. good luck with a horny gepard

✧ milking your beloved with a vibrator

✧ teasing your poor husband with a video of your wet pussy while he's at work.

sampo

✧ your boyfriend still continuing to finger you through your orgasm. overstimulated would be an understatement.

✧ making out in your room

✧ fucking you aggressively after seeing his rival, gepard, flirt with you (?? gepard flirting??)

✧ your pleasure is his pleasure//masturbating while eating you out

a/n: me after not writing anything for a couple of weeks (i think almost a month?) :) i haven't done this in SO long. no continue reading for this since it's short. (this is a shitpost)

taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..

liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!!

[jessamine-rose]

Now that my next fic for Yandere Church AU has been announced, it’s time for a special game. Get ready for Who's That Darling?

We’ve had Capitano’s damsel, Pantalone’s kitty, Dottore’s asisstant, Pierro’s savior, Wanderer’s doll, and Arlecchino’s devotee. And now…..

…….any guesses for the personality of the next darling?? I think this one will be a nice surprise. Hints are in the teaser, Pierro’s story, and my masterlist if you look closely enough（╹◡╹）♡

[lyneira]

♤ gimme just a little taste ♤

SMUT - MINORS DNI

-> their favorite part about eating you out + how they prefer to eat you out (split into two parts!)

fem!reader x genshin men / cw: cunnilingus, fellatio, face riding

Their Favorite Part About Eating You Out

Watching your face as he pleasures you

Zhongli, Albedo, Thoma, Kazuha, Tighnari

Your pleasure is his pleasure, so when he can see how much of it he's giving you, its enough to make him just as happy (and therefore enough to make a tent form in his pants 😏) Nothing compares to watching the numerous blissful expressions on your face as his mouth works wonders on your pussy: watching the blush on your cheeks grow deeper, watching your brows furrow from the intensity of pleasure, seeing your lips slightly parted as you panted and moaned at his touch, then at times biting your lower lip as he sucked and circled the tip of tongue on your pearl with relentless precision.

It reassured him that he was treating you so well, that he'd smile into your lips knowing that he was the one who put you in such bliss, and he's the only one who'll be able to see it.

When you'd then tighten your grip on his head, cry out his name, and finally pour yourself into his mouth, he'd look up to admire your exhausted face as he savored your taste, and would again smile, "You look beautiful, love". And if you blush or get flustered, he'll be inclined to go down on you once more to see more of that adorable expression.

Being able to hear you more

Xiao, Alhaitham, Dainsleif, Ayato, Cyno

Sure, these guys are more on the reserved side and don't tend to speak too much, but they'd find better use of their tongue than using it for meaningless chit-chat. In fact, they'll use their tongues to make you talk for them instead. With each lick to your sex, each suck on your folds, and each rub of his tongue against your walls, they'd want to hear your moans and gasps, to hear their name fall breathlessly from your lips, to hear how good they're making you feel, and they'd even want to hear your incoherent babbling as you were approaching your high. They'd want to hear it all. (even more so if you're just as quiet as they are, they'll do all they can to draw out such rare, delicious sounds)

Other than the trembling of your thighs around his head and the squeezing of your walls around his tongue, these sounds told him that you needed him terribly. He needed you too, and he'd show it in the way he'd keep his tongue buried in your heat, probing deep to find and massage that sensitive spongy spot that could elicit more whines from you.

And when he finally finds it, your cries and sighs of pleasure would come as a melody to his ears, and he'll make sure that you sing your song throughout the entire night by making you come over and over again.

Being able to intake your essence

Baizhu, Kaveh, Gorou, Scaramouche, Diluc

He loves eating you out as he's able to drink in the sweet nectar that he had long thirsted for, drinking it so earnestly as if it were from the fountain of youth. And that's exactly the effect you had on him: you restored him with the entirety of yourself: from your soul, which he finds so beautiful, to your warm, soothing touch that reassures him that he isn't alone, to your essence which you pour out for him when he's making love to you, and so much more. Therefore, to intake your nectar was a symbol of how much you filled him with you and your love.

Also, your lower lips were always drinking him in whenever he was deep inside of you, so it's only right that he drink yours. He'll first plant feathery kisses up and down your entrance, causing a shiver to run up your spine at his gentle touch, then he'll give your lips a passionate deep kiss, before finally slipping his tongue in to drink, the intensity of his thirst being exposed in the way his lips smacked wetly against your pussy and through the obscene sucking sounds that would fill the room.

His hands would be clenching your thighs as he further dove his tongue in to taste you, and he'd hum with delight into your pussy, mumbling a "tastes so good, mmph". Regardless of much he had already drank, it wouldn't be enough. You would learn by the end of the night that he would be the very definition of "pussy-drunk"

Getting messy

Venti, Heizou, Itto, Childe, Kaeya

Similar to previous category, their favorite thing about eating you out is tasting your essence, but more specifically, they enjoy being covered in it as well. He believes that if his mouth isn't overfilled with your arousal nor his face stained with it, then he didn't do it right. He wants you to make an absolute mess of him just as he's making a mess out of you. That's the correct way to do it.

After all, being able to get you wet and him being soaked as a result of the pleasure he gives you swells his pride enormously (and his dick too 😏). He's going to slobber all over your cunt, broadly licking stripes up your folds, and will spit on it for smooth access for his tongue. With his nose applying gentle pressure to your clit and his tongue ravaging your insides, he'll easily make you cum.

After composing yourself from your release, take this opportunity to look at the sight of him: cheeks dusted red from the heat of being buried in between your thighs, half-lidded eyes looking up at you, shrouded in heavy lust and ecstasy, and most of all, notice the mixture of your arousal and his saliva dripping from both sides of his mouth, staining his chin and jaw.

The sight would be erotic, but don't you worry, he'll have you looking just like that when it's your turn with him soon enough ;)

How They Prefer to Eat You Out

Wants you to stand

Venti, Heizou, Kaeya

He doesn't mind getting on his knees for you at all and prefers to have you standing when he eats you out, especially if you're wearing a skirt or dress which he can hide underneath in. He gets a little privacy with your pussy since you wouldn't be able to see how he's pleasuring you, but oh boy will you be able to feel it.

He'll use his obscurity to keep you on your toes as you try to anticipate how he'll use his tongue next, but sorry dear, he's going to be unpredictable. He could be sucking on your clit, then go on to licking up and down your slit, and right when you think he's going to insert his tongue, he returns to licking your sensitive bud instead, earning a sudden thrust of your hips into his mouth. And all of your yelps, gasps, and flinching when he surprises you would please him all the more.

Wants you on your back

Ayato, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Baizhu, Cyno, Scaramouche

Enjoys having you on your back since it's a versatile position. Some days he'll enjoy having your legs wrapped around his head as he eats you out, other days, he'll prefer them hanging over his shoulders, or maybe he'd like to test your flexibility and see how far you can bring your knees up to your chest so that he can have a clearer view of your pussy.

Whichever way, he'll still be on top and can enjoy eating you out to his liking.

Wants you to sit on his face

Itto, Childe, Zhongli, Xiao, Diluc

Basically THIS TikTok audio LOL

Sit on his face like a chair. No, really, that's how he’d prefer to eat you out. Don't you dare worry about whether you're too heavy or not, he wants to feel your weight holding him down and wants to be suffocated in between your thighs. It would feel heavenly. Feeling the plush of your thighs holding his head still and feeling the heat emanating from your skin, your pussy, and from his breath makes everything all the more hot, both figuratively and literally.

He also enjoys the fact that you can easily ride his face too, in this position. With you grinding your heat into his mouth, he'll also be able to delve his tongue deeper into you.

69

Dainsleif, Tighnari, Albedo, Gorou, Thoma

He'd enjoy this position because not only is he pleasuring you, you're pleasuring him too. There's much more stimulation as you enjoy sucking his cock and he enjoys sucking your pussy. The pleasure becomes twofold, particularly when it comes to the reaction of one another. For every jerk of your hips, it becomes a thrust of his own, and for everytime you'd deep throat his cock, he'd delve his tongue into your cunt even deeper.

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[arisewanekosuki]

TLH -What if-: What are you? (Abyss Prince! Aether x Fem!Reader x Dainsleif)

This time short story of What if Lumine was your traveling companion. Also happy 4th anniversary to Genshin Impact!🎉🥳 Thank you Hoyo for all cute and handsome boys hehe

---------

It was supposed to be a normal day in your travels with Lumine and Paimon. It started with a commission where someone asked your group to go deep into the domain and retrieve some relic. 

-”Still not there… m-maybe let’s go back? Paimon has a bad feeling about this place.” Paimon was looking around, worrying that something would jump out at any moment. -”Don’t worry Paimon! With Lumine here, there is nothing to fear! And if things really go bad I will teleport us immediately!” You took the little girl's hand in yours to reassure her. -”So far we haven't even met any enemies so I don’t think there is anything to worry about.” said Lumine, looking around. -”Yeah!! and this is not normal!!” shouted the white haired girl. “Normally there would be some hilichurs!! Even the guy who commissioned us, didn't he say this place was full of monsters?! So where they are–” then your group heard something hitting the floor. Paimon screamed and held onto your head, slightly pulling off your hair. -”Ouch! Ouch-! Paimon! That hurts!” You shouted trying to take the little girl’s hands from your hair. Lumine meanwhile took her sword out, ready to fight whatever it was coming from another room. -”You should try to not be that loud in this place, The Abyss Order is hiding somewhere.” you heard a male voice coming from the room. -”Dainsleif?!” you and Paimon said in unison. Lumine let breath of relive, hiding her sword. -”Didn’t expect to meet you here.” She said coming closer to the tall man. -”The same goes for your group. Why are you all here?” -”We got a commission to find some relic!” you smiled, joining two blond people.  -”I see.” he looked at you and then at Lumine “I think for now you should leave, I’m not even sure what Abyss Order is planning to do here.” You and Lumine looked at each other and in unison said -”No way! We will help you!!” After seeing your both determined faces, Dainslef only sighed -”Alright, then let’s go. I can feel Abyssal power not far from here. And with that your group started to go deeper into the domain. You cam closer to Paimon and whispered -”See? There were no monsters because Dain took care of them! There is nothing to worry about!” Paimon crossed her arms, not really sure if there is really nothing to worry about.

At some point you reached the room where two Abyss Heralds appeared. Lumine and Dain started to fight them, while you and Paimon hid to not be a burden to them while they fought. But at some point both Abyss Heralds started to run towards another room. -”Don’t let them escape!” shouted the male, running after them. Lumine followed close after him. You and Paimon start to go after them as well when Paimon noticed something -”The doors are closing!! (Y/n) hurry!!” You ran as fast as you could but then you were stopped. It was like your feets got glued to the floor. -”Paimon!!” you shouted after the girl to grab her attention. Trying to move you noticed something dark around your legs. “I can’t move!” Paimon turned around wanting to fly back to you but then the doors closed in front of her face, leaving you alone in this place. You fell to the floor, nothing holding you in place anymore. You got up and run towards doors, hitting them. -”Paimon? Lumine? Dain? Can anyone hear me?!” you shouted, after moment of silence you head Paimon’s voice. -”(Y/n) I’m here but I can’t open the door from here!!” What should I do?! Lumine and Dain went further!” -”Just go after them! I will just wait here till you all will be back!” -”A-are you sure? What if something comes to you??” -”Don’t worry!” you turned around noticing that the way your group came in was blocked too. “All exits are closed, I think I should be fine for now!” There was silence for a moment, you thought she already left but then you heard. -”J-just stay safe okay?” You smiled. -”Okay.” you said calmly. And then there was silence again.

After some time you sat down on the floor, your back towards the door. “I hope they are alright…” you thought, worrying more about your friends than yourself. You sighed and brought your knees closer to your chest. At some point you couldn’t stand the silence so you started to humm some song. But what you didn’t expect is to suddenly hear someone join you and footsteps getting closer. You looked up and gasped. -”That's an interesting melody but it’s not from this world, is it?” the golden haired boy smiled to you gently. You got up, leaning more at the door. -”Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you. I just want to talk." He stood in front of you and there is barely space between both of you. -”Shouldn’t you talk with Lumine?” -”Even if I want to, now it’s not time… So at least I want to learn more about you.” -”I don’t think there is anything interesting you can learn.” you turned your head from him. Wondering what to do. Is he going to hurt you? Should you run? Scream? He grabbed your chin and made you look at him. -”You whole being is interesting. You’re not from this world and yet you’re not someone like me and mine sister. It’s like you’re here and at the same time not. Why is that?” It’s not like you knew the answer to this question. There are some things you too don’t understand or how they work.  -”And this…” he took your hand holding it up so you could see it. “that white thread going towards my sister.” -”...W-what white thread?” you asked and Aether was surprised by your confusion. -”Ah so you can’t see it? Even those other threads that go far away from this domain?” They are not that easy to notice like the one you share with his sister but they are still there. -”I really don’t know what you are talking about…” you replied, even more nervous with him gently holding your hand. Aether was paying attention to your hand and then he noticed it. The served black thread… the same one it was on his hand as well. He was silent, glaring at your hand. This made you worried. Is he going to break it?! But then he closed his eyes and smiled. -”I see…” his expression now being more serious “It’s a shame he won’t give us more time.| -”Him?” But before you could do anything else, Aether grabbed you and jumped away from the door. “Wha-!!?” The doors were destroyed with two slashes, in their ruins stood Dainsleif. Aether still held you close and then whispered to your ear. -”Please take care of my sister.” with that he kissed your forehead and let go of you. -”Wait!” shouted a taller man, running to catch a gold haired boy. But he was too late. The Abyss Prince vanished. You were so confused. In such a short time many things happened. Dainsleif placed his hand on your shoulder. -”Are you alright? Did he do something to you?” you shook your head. -”I’m alright.” you replied, giving him a small smile. He sighed, placing his hand on your head and bringing you closer to him. You face got into his chest making your cheeks feel warm “W-what?!” you were confused by this. Then you heard Lumine shouting your name and her fast footsteps, Dain quickly let go of you and took a step back. -”(Y/n)!!! Are you alright?! Did you get hurt?!” She hugged you and then looked around your body to see if there were any bruises. -”I’m okay!! Nothing happened to me!” -”I’m glad! I’m so sorry I left you behind!” Lumine smiled but when you looked at her she had many bruises around her body. -”But what about you?! What happened?” You started to panic, already searching for food that will help her heal quicker. She only smirked and placed hands on her hips. -You should see the ones I was fighting!” she said in a proud voice. Paimon came holding onto some relic. -”Let’s get out of here! (Y/n) is safe and we got what we were looking for!” Everyone nodded and went towards the exit.

When you left the domain you wanted to talk to Dain about Aether but before you could do it, he already left your group. You pouted. “Why does he always have to leave so fast?!” Both Paimon and Lumine were surprised too that he left without any word. After taking money from the commission you went to the inn to rest. You were laying in bed while Lumine went to take a bath and Paimon went to grab food. You were contemplating whether you should tell Lumine about meeting her brother or not. And not only that, you looked at your both hands. Nothing there attached to them. “Is this ‘connection’ the white thread he spoke off? But then why can he see it and not me?”   You sighed, closing your eyes and laying your hands beside your sides. “It’s not like I will get answers… as an ‘observer’ I should be thankful that my body can be here in this world.”

The miracle happened, so cherish it and enjoy your stay in Teyvat as long as you can.

--- Thank you for reading! 💛

[simping-overload]

'𝟐𝟑 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐩

note: All of these can be subjected to change

fandoms: genshin impact, honaki star rail, bungo stray dogs, trigun stampede, modern warfare 2, jujutsu kaisen, obey me,

ヾthis is a multi-fandom blog that is designed for mlm/nbmlm identifying readers! so if you're female or fem please do not follow or interact with my mlm related post!! you will be blocked if you do not heed this warning ゛

𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟏 - (𝟏𝟎/𝟎𝟏-𝟏𝟎/𝟎𝟕)

Day 1 - Zhongchi

including: cock hungry childe, zhongli has 2 dicks, slight overstimulation, begging, using hydro as a lube, happy arranged marriage plot

Day 2 - Dottore

including: bondage, excessive use of vibrators, multiple orgasms, gn reader

Day 3 - Sampard

including: vampire sampo, bitting, blindfolds, edging,

Day 4 - Dazai

including: aphrodisiacs, overstimulation, begging, gn reader

Day 5 - Kavehtham

including: overstimulation, degradation and praise, smei-public sex, fucking in a library

Day 6 - Diluc

including: playboy bunny diluc, body worship, blowjobs, throat fucking, amab reader

Day 7 - Jingrenheng

including: threesome, 2 in 1, bitting, overstimulation, ftm dan heng

𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟐 - (𝟏𝟎/𝟖-𝟏𝟎/𝟏𝟒)

Day 8 - Doppo

including: lingerie (x & x), giving you a show, dick riding, amab reader

Day 9 - Jingren

including: reminiscing, rough to soft sex, kissing,

Day 10 - Simon "Ghost" Riley

includes: soft sex, dacryphilia, simon loses his virginity, marking, amab reader

Day 11 - DanCae

including: vidyadhara dan heng, heats, scent marking, biting, possessive dan heng

Day 12 - Wriothesley

including: werewolf wrio, knotting, breeding kink, cockwarming, gn reader

Day 13 - Vashwood

including: vampire vash, needy vash, feeding, thigh riding

Day 14 - Nanami

including: size kink, praise, breeding, bro has a massive dick, gn reader

𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟑 - (𝟏𝟎/𝟏𝟓-𝟏𝟎/𝟐𝟏)

Day 15 - Suegiku

including: humiliation, degradation, edging, smei-public sex, fucking in a supply closet

Day 16 - Captiano

including: size kink, monster cock capitano, stress fuck, power dynamics, your his subordinate and he's your superior, gn reader

Day 17 - Satosugu

including: praise, let them be happy gays gege, kissing, handjobs

Day 18 - Satan

including: catboy satan, heats, marking, biting, dry humping, amab reader

Day 19 - Jingheng

including: power bottom jing yuan, ftm jing yuan, 2 dicks 1 hole, dan hengs first time

Day 20 - Oikawa

including: first-time anal, slow and soft sex, pretty crier oikawa, amab reader

Day 21 - ThomaTo

including: temperature play, thoma using his pyro, it gets hot and steamy

𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟒 - (𝟏𝟎/𝟐𝟐-𝟏𝟎/𝟐𝟖)

Day 22 - Pierro

including: cockwarming, stomach bulge, slow + sleepy sex, gn reader

Day 23 - Renheng

including: dacryphilia, like old times but better, biting, kissing, a lil bit of blood

Day 24 - Machabloosm

including: friends w benefits, they act like they're dating tho, possessive karou, jealousy sex, kissing

Day 25 - Dan Heng il

including: praise, overstimulation, dirty talk, 2 in 1. gn reader

Day 26 - Neuvillette

including: public sex, sex in the courtroom, low-key gets kinda rough, gn reader

Day 27 - Dainsleif

including: hasn't had sex in YEARS, bottom + sub dain, cum play, amab reader

Day 28 - Wriolette

including: body worship, neuvillette gets overwhelmed, dragon neuvillettes, crying, comfort

𝟑 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝟏𝟎/𝟐𝟗-𝟏𝟎/𝟑𝟏)

Day 29 - Foul Legacy

including: big dick, stomach buldge, eating you out, long ass tounge, biting, gn reader

Day 30 - The Dullahan

including: public sex, sex in the woods, he's rlly pent up, rough sex, stomach bulge, gn reader

Day 31 - Mothman

including: oviposition, breeding, monsterfucking, last minute booty call, gn reader