#genshin/his WIFE????????

[twifairy]

Genshin Asogi and his partners dump???????????

[mmmairon]

All patched up

[abyssruler]

you and scaramouche have been married for fifty years, but unlike your immortal husband, you’re a human who inevitably ages.

“yes, she’s my wife. yes, she’s seventy-eight. you got a problem with that?”

he stares thunderously down at the recruit who had stupidly asked who the old grandma hanging around their camp was.

[bellanoche-oxo]

can't stop thinking about them

[lvnesart]

little wife

[celifin]

Silly kavetham stuff I never posted

[redthemarten]

I like to think that if there's one thing Monsieur Neuvillette does in his free time to unwind, it's probably soaking in a bath for hours without end, until he becomes one with water

[rosieyart]

nephew ⭐️💫

[m1d-45]

room 11-13

summary: albedo is weird. no, not just weird- disgustingly strange.

word count: ~2.5k

-> warnings: implied stalking [him -> you] ; he is a weird creep!! brief + non described mentioned nudity (of reader, within a drawing)

-> gn reader (you/yours) in a modern au !

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

your roommate was… interesting, to say the least. not that you really had many expectations—unlike apparently everyone else, you didn’t come to university with a plethora of friends packed in your bag. you had no names to list on your housing contract, no familiar faces to look forward to when you came home, just you, a handful of cardboard boxes and a lingering sense that you’d forgotten something.

there was nothing you could pin about him. nothing in specific, no one catalyst you could point to. sure, you don’t see him often, but that isn’t inherently a bad thing. there’s nothing wrong with not going out much, there’s nothing wrong with being a quiet person when you’re living with a stranger. the common room is clean, the sink is (relatively) empty, and none of your things in the fridge have been eaten. he really, by all standards, should be a perfectly fine roommate, but…

albedo was a quiet man. you first met him when you moved in, delicately pouring exact amounts of water into a small tins over the sink without a single sound or stray droplet. he looked up, you exchanged names, and that was that. the rest of your day was spent unpacking in your room, barely hearing the click of his door closing.

you never quite asked what he was doing that first day, but you could put two and two together. he had a habit of leaving pencils or erasers or other supplies on the coffee table, and you often ran into him when he came out of his room to fetch them. you’re not quite sure how you never see him in the living room when you never told him your schedule, but… well, whatever. it didn’t take a genius to know that the guy with charcoal smears across his hands was an artist. and, if you’d somehow missed those, you sometimes ran into half-used palette in the fridge, beads of paint in a myriad of colors sealed neatly in plastic containers, changing every time you checked.

you weren’t sure why they were always there, as you’d definitely seen one when he was in the dorm, but… well, it’s not really your business, is it? maybe he’s busy, maybe he doesn’t want to paint, maybe he’s taking a nap, who cares. you grab what you need and go back to your room; there’s more important things to worry about than a stranger’s hobbies. honestly, you shouldn’t spend so much time thinking about him. you could hardly claim to know someone you never saw.

well, except when you did see him.

you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge as you came back from your chemistry lab, not minding the usual palette of paint beside it. also as usual, you heard his door open as he remembered some random item, not minding the sound of his footsteps as you receded into your own room-

“wait! ah- please…”

you forgotten what his voice sounded like. it’s mostly out of shock, not recognition, that you turn around, seeing him lingering in the entrance to his half of the dorm. his hair is loose around his shoulders, catching the light from the window and glowing gold. his apron is stained with a rainbow of paint, matching the perpetual lines across his hands, and he seems a bit too nervous to be talking with someone he’s been living with for a few months now.

“…i couldn’t make it to the lab today,” he starts, words measured and not at all like his original call, practiced instead of panicked. “could i borrow your notes?”

…you’re in the same chemistry class? you’d never noticed. then again, you’re not sure you could pick him out of a crowd—it’s not like you two were exactly close… but giving him your data was honestly a non-issue. normally you wouldn’t think twice about it, except if he was in your lab section then he should know the rules about missing them.

“you’re going to have to retake the lab anyway, aren’t you? my report won’t help you at all.”

he blinks, like he’d forgotten that fact, and you half hope that’ll be the end of it. you still have your own work to get to, after all.

“still… it would give me something to reference, so when i do it i’ll know if my results are reasonable.” his brows are drawn, genuinely worried, crystal blue carrying a surprising amount of emotion despite the careful cadence of his words. “i’d greatly appreciate your assistance on this matter… i don’t have a reliable way to contact anyone else in the class.”

it only takes you a few moments to weigh the pros and cons. at worst, your partner can back you up if he tries to steal your work. at best, nothing happens and you’ve earned a bit of goodwill.

you shrug, taking off your bag and setting it on the counter, unzipping the main pocket and digging for your lab manual. you find it and flip to today’s lab, mentally wondering what an artist would think of the irritated scribbles down the side of the page. whatever the case, you hold it out toward the hallway he was before, only to find him barely a foot away. he’s stood over your shoulder, letting your manual bump into his chest without a flinch, without an ounce of the worry from before.

without an ounce of anything at all, really. his face is flat, empty, just staring down at the words in front of him without seeming to read them at all.

“…sorry,” you start, “i didn’t hear you-”

“don’t be sorry.” with a blink, he’s back, taking the manual with a gentle smile. “thank you for your help. i’ll return it by tonight.”

“…yeah, take your time.”

you’re not going to question what or why whatever happened did. it’s.. just easier if you don’t. you grab your bag and go to your room, focused on anything else.

you don’t find it in the common area, on the coffee table or by the sink or in any reasonable area. he doesn’t knock on your door to return it. no, instead, you trip over it the next day as you leave your room, squinting in the dark to see it laying on the carpet, a note taped to the front.

yeah, you’re not reading that. not now, at least. you’re certain albedo is a nice guy, if socially awkward, but… you can give him the benefit of the doubt later. you shove the note in a drawer and forget about it, going to class. if you just ignore it, you won’t have to deal with it.

it must not have been anything important, because he doesn’t ever bring it up again. it’s almost as if nothing happened. there’s a new pencil on the common room whenever you walk by, he ducks his head and smiles sheepishly when grabbing it, and nothing is new. you try to look for him in the lab, if only to be courteous, but never find him. it’s not a big class… but whatever, you’re not too familiar with his face anyway. after a week or two, you stop trying.

it’s wishful thinking, really.

you have to do a double take when opening the fridge one day, the paint on the palette looking, from the corner of your eye, like a human hand. it’s just skin-toned paints, delicately mixed into a color that somewhat looks like yours.. by the looks of it, he must have fussed with the tint for a while. normally there’s only small bubbles of paint, but this is excessively fine refinement.. he must just be a perfectionist.

you can’t leave your room without running into him. not just like before, with brief intersections as he grabs what he’s forgotten, but actual interactions. he sits on the couch, drawing in a small notebook, asking you about your classes like he’s not supposed to be in his own classes. sure, he could be taking some online, but it’s like he never leaves the dorm.

he asks as usual, one day, what class you’re going to. when you finally gather your courage and ask why he himself isn’t going to the lab, he startles, like he’d forgotten he was attending. there were plenty of reasons why he wasn’t going—maybe he was in a different section of the class, or he had a car and had reduced travel time, or quite literally anything other than silence. but he sat there, staring at you like you were the one who had mixed up your schedule, with the same painfully empty look as before.

you left soon after that.

if asked to describe albedo in three words or less, you’d fumble for a few moments before landing on “fine, but weird.” if asked to do so with any other level of detail, you’d probably end up saying the exact same thing.

and that’s fine. you didn’t really expect to become best friends with your roommate. but for archons’ sake, he’s just so… uncanny.

you’ve never seen any other food in the fridge but yours. you cannot remember ever seeing or hearing him leave or enter the dorm, or ever remember not seeing some sign of him being there. his door was perpetually closed, the faint sound of scratching coming from behind it, and he’d just… freeze at random. like he recedes into himself, leaving a hollow husk until he returns, eyes left as flat disks set into an unfeeling face. there’s nothing inherently wrong with not showing many expressions, but whatever he’s got going on is far more concerning than that.

so really, who could blame you for being curious? his sketchbook is just there, laying open on the table, only partially masked by the small bag of supplies next to it. the door to the bathroom is closed, you really shouldn’t be invading his privacy like this, but it’s not like he even bothered to close it.

still, it’s wrong.

still, having something solid to point to could really help if you ever need to make a complaint to an RA.

oh archons, this is such a bad idea.

before you can convince yourself not to, you walk over and sit in his usual place on the couch, picking up his sketchbook and gritting your teeth through the fact that there’s no way this is morally justified.

the current spread is plain. it’s entirely in pencil, repeated iterations of different kinds of jewelry. rings, with ornate spirals and diamonds along the sides, leading into a gem of many different cuts. some simple stud earrings, some hoops, a necklace draped around a half-drawn bust, the chain sketched to look like blooming flowers strung together. there’s some notes in another script, but other than that, it’s entirely normal. there’s nothing weird about a guy that draws bracelets in his spare time. but your mind itches to find a justification, searching for proof, and you’re already in too deep. despite your better judgement, you turn the page, doing your best not to drop it when you do.

it’s you.

you, at least six times on two pages alone. smiling, waving, fixing your hair, by the seven you feel faintly sick, fingers digging into the pages as you try to rationalize what you’re seeing.

it could just be a one off. maybe you have a particularly interesting face to draw? except the next page is the same, and so is the next, and you flip through them all with the edge of your thumb and it’s all you.

all of it. every single page that has ink on it has your face. from the very front to the very back, with only a page or two of white left, and it’s clear that the jewelry was an intentional decoy. there’s a spread dedicated to just your hands, one to various outfits he’s seen you in, one- archons, one in various stages of undress, barely granting you the dignity of keeping them from the waist up. the worst part, really, is how accurate they are, clear proof of just how much time he’s spent staring at you.

you recognize his voice now, quiet and measured as he calls your name. that could just be your heart in your ears, though.

he has that same blank expression again, standing in the doorway, looking between you and the book. you’re certain he can see the paled fingertips of your grip on the cover. “do… do you not like them?”

“…what?”

he settles back into himself, sad, shoulders slumping and eyes downturned. “they’re just practices, i promise. the actual painting looks much better…”

bile threatens the back of your throat. “the painting?”

“yes, the painting. the one i mentioned in my note…”

…the note. his note. the one you didn’t read. the one he gave you after a grand total of one significant interactions, before which you all but considered him a ghost. and he decided that making a painting of you was a normal thing to do?

“…it makes sense you forgot it. i can’t imagine i’ve ever come close to properly capturing your beauty… it doesn't matter the medium, i never seem to get it right...”

he crosses his arms, picking idly at his lips with one hand, like he’s discussing a particularly annoying problem on his homework and not the fact that he has drawings of you topless. after a few moments of mumbling, he shakes his head. “i’ll do better. i promise i will. one day i'll draw something that finds even a fraction of your perfection.”

you don’t care. all you want is to get out of here, to lock your doors and try not to call the cops while he’s in earshot. “it’s fine, albedo”

the lie is a poison that seems to sting him upon arrival, a ripple of shock crossing his impassive expression. “it's not fine, not at all. how can i call myself an artist if i fail to impress my muse? please, give me time, i promise i can do better-”

“it’s fine,” you repeat, setting the sketchbook down and realizing with another stab of disgust that he’s written your name on the front cover. you stand, hands buzzing with the echo of what you’ve witnessed, not caring for the crestfallen look on his face. “…you’re a talented artist,” you grit out.

and you’re going to be sick.

[mishhe-kht]

wanted to do something for them this month

(extras down below)

[pigeonpeach]

I’ll take whats yours and make it mine~

Aka Yelan vs Pantalone

Cw: forced marriage, basically legal kidnapping, then illegal kidnapping, Yelan saves you dw, Wlw, reader is called ‘bride’, mild misogynistic themes,

-also fun fact: chinese wedding dresses are red with red veils and not white because white is the color of death in china.

To your surprise you had been arranged to marry a harbinger? It was quite a jarring experience and upsetting. You would be leaving behind everything to go to Snezhnaya, a completely different culture and completely different environment. You were devastated to say the least. You would never bee seeing your homeland again according to your father who seemed far too okay with this all. Apparently the Regator caught sight of you and decided he needed you for himself. You werent happy. You considered running away but you would be running from the Fatui. You couldn’t help but cry just thinking of the life you lead. Besides.. you were so close to finishing your degree in business. You had wanted to join the Tianquan someday. You had so much potential all to be thrown out because some man thought you were beautiful.

“Dearie, you’d never have to work a day in your life as his wife.” Your mother tried to comfort you but also persuade you to just go along with it.

“You don’t get it. I just got a letter from my friend Keqing who said Lady Ningguang would be interested in offering me a PAID internship! And dad just sold me to some bloodthristy harbinger!” You whined. You were going to miss Liyue, your friends, your dreams. Everything was over.

“Well.. to be fair we don’t really have a choice here… Pantalone is a force to be reckoned with and… we just wouldn’t be able to stand against him. My dear its better you go as his wife than as his prisoner. At least as his wife you would get some respect and agency. Now wipe your tears. We have to start preparing for your… depature.”

Today was the worst. Dawned in red with a thick veil over your face, stuffed into a carriage. Did you really have to travel in your wedding dress? Its such a long journey too.. its incredibly uncomfortable sitting for hours in such a tight garment. Worst off all your parents weren’t allowed to go, you tried not to cry in the carriage. Fatui were all around the outside, soldiers with stones for hearts it seemed as they seemed annoyed when you showed any semblance of struggle. You weren’t looking forward to being married into the Fatui whatsoever.

Then the carriage stopped. You paused. Was it time to camp already? You looked through the see through curtains, its evening. But they usually wouldn’t stop until they came across some inn or city? Your answer came in the form of gunshots ringing out, the carriage shook as the horses became spooked and rode off dragging you in the carriage with no rider it seemed. You held to the walls as you could hear the fight from afar. Who was fighting them? What was happening?

“Help! Someone? Whats going on?!” You cried out. But no one answered. The ride was bumpy, you couldnt really even know what was happening. Was it a ambush? Who would ambush you?

The carriage suddenly stopped vaulting your forward. You groaned as you made contact with the wooden wall infront of you. You could hear the fight continue as it seemed the Fatuus were losing… who could be so powerful? You noticed the carriage door was still unlocked. Now unguarded you could just… poke your head out maybe?

You did so, slightly to look out, you saw the horses were gone actually, the leashes holding them had been severed. You briefly hoped they were fine, then you heard someone approaching. You quickly closed the door hiding. If someone was powerful enough to take on that many fatui agents then you had absolutely no shot against them.

“I know you’re in there, come on out.” You heard a voice say, it sounded confident and sultry. You hesitated as footsteps got closer. Finally the door opened. A lady with short dark blue hair and a unique attire greeted you with a smug smile. “You’re quite the pretty bride, but I assume you don’t want to be here huh?” She said casually. You nodded. She offered you her hand. “I can get you out of here, and I’ll take you somewhere safer. You’ll never have to marry that harbinger.” Her voice sounded confident. She seemed to know what she was talking about. You hesitated before taking her hand. With that she helped you out. She lifted your veil, firmly removing it letting you now clearly look around without it.

“Those… were the millieth… they just let us past like that?” You were a bit surprised as you were led to a hotel room.

“Darling, I’m not just some robin hood stealing from the Fatui, I’m a secret agent.” She said as she helped you change out of your dress. You were blushing as you undressed with your back to her, covering your body. “I heard he was forcing some young lady to marry him and I decided to intervene. I assure you, you will be safe here. I have plenty of strings here to pull. So needless to say, you’re under the Tianquan’s protection now. You can relax.” Her words were so soothing… you felt so flustered. She’s so beautiful too. Who would’ve known you would be saved by someone like her? The lord of Geo must have heard your prayers.

“T-thank you… I-i cannot thank you enough!” You say as she hands you a new uniform. Your eyes widen as you realize its a uniform worn by the assistants of Lady Ningguang. “W-what but this is…”

“Your cover. You’re going to hide out in the Jade Chamber for a bit. You see, Lady Ningguang owes me a favor or two.. and I asked if I could house you temporarily in the Jade Chamber. One of the most secure locations in all of Liyue. No one will ever suspect you’re there. Of course you’ll be out to work but if I remember correctly that’s what you wanted yes?”

“W-wait.. you arranged all this for me? Why?” You asked. You finished putting on your uniform as you turned to her. She smiled.

“Well.. I couldn’t let a pretty face like yours be wasted on that banker. Jewels like yourself deserve better than to be treated like a trophy. I’ve always like taking from him too. And I’ve actually had my eye on you too.” Her voice was so sweet, like candy. You felt like you were being lured into a trance almost, sitting on the bed blushing as she folded up your dress. “I assure you, I’ll be taking good care of you~” she said with a wink.

“WHAT?!” Pantalone’s hands tore the report in half as his underling trembled.

“They did everything possible yet the bandit made it out with the bride.” The underling said nervously.

“I heard you the first time.” He said seething. “What I want to know is how incompetent were those agents that ONE pesky agent could work through their defenses and make off with MY bride!” Pantalone sat back down, his legs crossed as he attempted to regain his composure.

“We’re working to identify the thief but there’s no clues. We could only find the veil.”

“Must I go down there myself to find them? What are you doing standing around here anyways, shoo. Go tell them to keep searching and send out more investigators. I paid good money for that bride so either I’ll have them or I’ll have you sent to Dottore’s Laboratory!” Pantalone hissed. Immediately the underling bowed and left. He groaned as he sat in his chair.

“You’re not going to win this game, you pesky woman.” He hissed

[mintjeru]

duke of the north the fortress of meropide

open for better quality | no reposts

[azaracyy]

haikavethamtober day 2: soup "alhaitham. put that book down. the soup's getting cold." "argh, you know what? i'll make sure you finish this myself. open your mouth."

[vanidrabbles]

Neuvillette: [fully immersed in a new case file, listening to classical music, occasionally sipping his water glass, very focused]

Furina: [upside down on his office's couch] Do you think lakelight lilies have feelings?

[special-mooon]

Haikaveh community is so funny sometimes. We all saw that Kaveh wasnt on the newest banner and were just like "yeah its cuz he's on maternity leave 🤷"

[mvrders-are-okay]

making venti submit may take a while, given his personality ( he’s a stubborn slut, especially when wearing his barbatos outfit [ also, holy fuck, those thighs! ] ). i also think it will come to the point in which it’s you who will just give up and let him be; you’ll just settle on plopping down the couch, letting him climb on top of you with that shit-eating smirk of his, as if smug that he came out victorious, then, yeah, he’ll ride you. yay.